#all i wanted to know from my client was 1) is there a problem with the tenants vacating because i am getting the vibe it's a Problem

[sarah-yyy]

the worst part of this job is client interaction because i can really be out here asking y/n questions and my client will literally tell me every single thing EXCEPT the answer to my question

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 5

shy!reader really wants to tell construction worker!rafe how she feels but what if he doesn’t feel the same?  

18+ mdni!

c/w: the L-word, mostly fluff, reader being an overthinker & getting a little jealous, pda

wc: 2.3k 

hi! this is the last part of sweet treat (might write some extras but i make no promises) & just wanted to say how much i appreciate everyone who reads my stuff. the first part was my first proper piece of writing i posted on this blog and i was overjoyed by the warm welcome and all the kind comments, asks & reblogs (nothing goes unnoticed by me!) so thank u so so much for being so lovely <33

hope you enjoy xx

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s been exactly two weeks since she came to terms with the fact that she’s in love with him.

She hasn’t been able to sleep all that well and has tried her very best to avoid Rafe, albeit fruitlessly since he insists on driving her home from work every day and on top of that, he often invites himself over to her house or asks for her to stay the night at his; not accepting her excuses about being tired and having to wake up early.   

“Why don’t we just…be tired and wake up early together, then?” his grin is playful when he argues with her reasoning. And how is she meant to refuse that?  

And if all that wasn’t already suffocating her, of course he’s now helping with the renovation of the cafe since her boss wanted to expand the business; make the small coffee shop into a bigger one in hopes of more space for new tables and seats because the amount of clients they got was beginning to be too much for everyone to comfortably enjoy their stay. 

Therefore, she now has to practically work in the same building as him every single day because the renovation work isn’t disturbing the current cafe from running nor decreasing the number of customers with a sweet tooth or a craving for their usual morning coffee from strutting in.   

This wouldn’t be a problem, if Rafe wasn’t walking around all sweaty and dusty, biceps bulging whenever he’d lift wooden planks over his shoulder or carry around different equipment; looking as attractive as ever.  

And with these newfound lovey-dovey feelings trying to break through the surface, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to stop herself from ogling him or keep her rapid heartbeats to herself whenever he wanders over to chat with her on his breaks.

She tries to act as normal as she can, but she can tell that he’s picking up on her excessive rambling and stuttering, flushed cheeks and anxious fingers fixing her hair every two seconds whenever he’s talking to her.  

She’s certain he can see right through her, knows that she’s hiding something. She can practically see how he wants to bring it up more often than not but seemingly hasn’t found the right way to approach the subject yet and she can sense that she’s running out of time; can’t tolerate lying to him for much longer.   

She’s been thinking this whole thing through over and over, to the point of her head hurting as she bakes Rafe’s favorite lemon raspberry cookies as a distraction and because he’s been working so hard and she wants to surprise him; see the soft smile that makes the whole world glitter whenever he graces her with it.  

She wants to tell him, wants him to know how deeply she feels for him, how much she appreciates him but every time she tries to open her mouth, the words seem to evaporate before they’ve even begun to sprout on her nervous tongue.   

What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this is all just a casual thing for him and she’s making it into something more than it is? These bleak thoughts turn her mood sour; a pout forming on her lips as she concentrates on topping the flamingo pink icing covering their most popular vanilla cupcakes with fresh blueberries.   

As she’s taking out Rafe’s cookies out the oven, she comes to the conclusion that she has two options; she either tells him she’s in love with him or she doesn’t. If she tells him, there’s a very high possibility of him looking at her with a crease between his brows and words about not wanting for this to be anything serious hitting her against the face.  

And if she doesn’t tell him, then…well she doesn’t really have anything to lose, does she? Except maybe the what ifs haunting her for the rest of eternity.   

She tries to get rid of these tormenting thoughts with a shake of her head as she sets the cookies off to cool down and begins to place the finished cupcakes onto the display counter, trying her hardest to forget about it all.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

Later that day when Rafe is contently munching on the cookies she plated for him and happily distracting her from work, someone approaches the counter; a girl with glossy lips and shiny hair.   

“Hi, could I get a mango matcha latte, please?” Her eyes are as green as grass as she places her order.  

“Of course, would you like it with ice or no ice?”   

“With ice, please,” she answers in a friendly manner.   

“Coming right up,” she gives the girl a polite smile when her payment goes through.   

“You’re working on the renovation?” The girl’s attention then turns towards Rafe, making Y/N’s gaze flicker over to them as she puts blended mango into the bottom of a tall glass.  

“Yeah, the cafe’s gon’ be twice as big as it’s now,” his gravelly voice drawls, putting the half-eaten baked good down.   

“That’s so cool, I’ve always wondered how construction workers are so strong. Do you go to the gym a lot?” A saccharine voice reaches Y/N’s ears, making her brows furrow as she’s measuring the right amount of matcha powder and trying to appear nonchalant.   

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Also think my workdays sometimes count as workouts,” he scratches the back of his head as she lets out a giggle. It wasn’t that funny, Y/N thinks with a roll of her eyes.   

“Hey, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime? Could give you my number?”   

Something muddy swirls in her stomach at the girl’s straightforward question. She doesn’t appreciate the fact that she’s blatantly hitting on Rafe right in front of her. Even if she’s well aware that they’re not together and the girl probably assumed they were just friends, which they are.  

However, she can’t prevent herself from turning grumpy from the mere notion of him being interested in someone else. After all, the girl is stunning and she wouldn’t really blame him if he wanted to at least consider her offer.  

“Nah, I’m actually not available right now,” he offers an apologetic smile when the girl’s shoulders slump.   

“No? That’s a shame. Well, let me know when that changes?” She gives him a flirty smile that makes Y/N quietly scoff as she pours the milk into the mix.  

“It’s not changing anytime soon,” she mutters under her breath, making both of them turn their heads towards her.   

“Sorry?” The girl asks, muted jade settling on her suddenly tense form. Fuck, did she really say that out loud?  

“Oh, um— just that…here’s your drink,” she peeps out, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into the side of her face as she sticks a paper straw into the beverage; the ice cubes clinking together when she hands it out to her.   

“Right, thanks,” she says looking over to Rafe once more, seemingly expecting him to give her an answer of his own.  

“Uh…yeah, what she said. Not changing anytime soon,” his grin is wide, making the girl’s cheeks flush as she hurriedly leaves.  

And when it’s just the two of them again, she flits her eyes down, busying herself with a wooden container of tea bags she’s trying to organize, not wanting to face him.  

“What was, uh…what was that about?” His tone is teasing, an annoying smirk playing along his features.  

“Nothing,” she quickly dismisses, avoiding his gaze.  

“Nothing? You’re telling me you weren’t just really fucking jealous two seconds ago?”  

“N—no,” she can’t even convince herself with the pitiful denial.  

“Don’t worry, I’m all yours, alright?” He chuckles as he stuffs the rest of the cookie down his maw.  

“How did you know I was craving these, by the way?” He asks around the mouthful as she tries to brush aside the sudden tingle in her ribcage and the blush dusting over her cheeks.   

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

A few days later when her shift is coming to an end, her other coworker already beginning to take orders and telling her she’s free to go, she drags Rafe behind the counter and practically forces him to taste test a new recipe she’s tried out; a walnut carrot cake with lime buttercream. 

“Wow, this is…amazing. The lime gives this fresh sourness to the frosting, it’s so good,” his voice is muffled by his chewing and her heart warms in response to his detailed commentary, never one to shy away from showering her in compliments.  

“You think so? I actually added the lime just cause I know how much you like citrus fruits so, I’m really glad you like it,” she beams up at him.  

“Yeah? Made this just for me, huh? Can I ask why I’m getting this special treatment all of a sudden?” His tone is playful, tongue licking over his bottom lip to clean up the bit of icing lingering there.   

“Well, cause I love you and—” she blurts out and then her entire body tenses; mouth hanging open in shock and wide eyes slowly moving to look at him, trying to verify whether he heard it or not. Of course he did. She wasn’t exactly quiet now, was she?   

“You…you love me?” His brows raise in surprise.  

“Uh…I— I didn’t mean to…I mean, you probably don’t feel the same so doesn’t really matter. Just— um...just forget I said that. I don’t know why I—”   

“What are you talking about? You think I spend most of my time with you cause I…what? Dislike you? You can be so silly sometimes, you know?” He scoffs, setting the golden fork down on the porcelain plate.  

She stays silent. 

“What I’m saying is that I’m obsessed with you. I mean, you’re even in my fucking dreams, right? But listen, love has always been a little…tricky for me to grasp onto cause my relationship with my family has always been…complicated? But if me wanting to spend every second of my day with you means I love you too then, shit, maybe I do. But I need some time before I can really say that shit, you get that?” His words are honest and raw and she thinks her rattling heart is going to beat out of her chest.  

“Oh. I— um…yeah, of course. Take all the time you need,” she finally manages out.  

“Hey, c’mere,” he says before he’s practically dragging her dumbfounded form into his embrace; beefy arms pushing her flush against his chest with a steadying grip on her waist.   

“I mean, we’re basically already dating at this point, no? Wasn’t sure how to make it official without freaking you out but since you love me, I think you’re all good, yeah?” 

She croons something incoherent in response.  

“So, wanna be my little girlfriend or what?” He asks into her hair.  

“I— of course I do,” she mumbles against his shirt.   

“Yeah?”   

“Mhm,” She hums before he tucks an index finger under her chin and raises her face to look up at him; thumb toying with her bottom lip before he’s leaning down and smearing a sloppy kiss against her mouth.   

“Shit, you’re so cute. Just wanna swallow you whole sometimes,” he murmurs with a soft smile tugging at his lips and blue hydrangeas twinkling with something syrupy in them.   

“I love you,” she mumbles, almost inaudible; words still too tender to consciously say out loud.   

“Say it again,” he practically demands.  

“Um…I love you,” her voice is nearly a whisper.  

“What was that? Think you can say it a little louder?” He teases.   

“Rafe, stop…you’re embarrassing me,” she whines, cheeks coloring over with a strawberry hue.   

“No, I’m not. Just wanna hear you say it,” his smirk is all big and smug and it makes her huff.  

“ILOVEYOU, okay?” The words mesh together like fluffy clouds in the sky and her volume is louder than he’s probably ever heard it, a couple of curious heads turn to look at them, the lively chatter around them quieting down some.   

“Yeah? You guys heard that? She loves me!” He’s nearly shouting, looking around with a stupid grin on his face, making her flush and hide behind her hands as a few customers cheerfully titter in entertainment.  

“Congrats, dude!” Someone even yells.   

“Oh my god, Rafe. Why would you do that?” Her mortified eyes widen as she crouches down; trying to find shelter from behind the pale-yellow counter. “I’m never leaving my house again,” she complains with a glare.   

He doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by the whole thing, simply chuckling with dimples denting his cheeks; the light-hearted sound making her stomach flutter despite the humiliation crawling up her spine and making her want to vanish into the cracks on the floorboards.   

“Of course you are. I’m your boyfriend now which means I’m taking you out on a date tomorrow, yeah?” He lifts her up with a grip on her waist, pulling her flush against him as his devious fingertips slip underneath the hem of her shirt, smoothing over her bare stomach and making her let out a squeak.  

Then he’s grasping her jaw in one hand and pressing his mouth on hers once again; her protests withering away like a dead rose when he slips his tongue past her lips, dragging out an involuntary whimper from her.   

She pulls away, hiding her face in his chest when she can feel multiple pairs of eyes staring at them.  

“Rafe, can we just go already?” She pleads with her voice small before he’s guiding her out of the coffee shop with a big palm resting on her back, calming her down some.   

And despite the little scene he just caused, she thinks she might just be the happiest girl on the island as he helps her climb into his truck with a honeyed kiss warming the apple of her cheek. 

[holylulusworld]

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: You need money. Hansen’s agency offers the right kind of trade.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, unnamed other reader (Hansen’s girl)

Warnings: money problems, sex for money, selling your virginity, blindfolding, sex with a stranger, groping, oral (fem rec), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, loss of virginity, slow sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Bucky, undefined age gap, dad’s best friend trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, language, mentions of past death of a loved one, fluff

A/N: This story is part of my: Traders of love (lust) masterlist

A/N2: It's also a request fill for my 16.666 followers celebration masterlist. Sorry, this took me so long. I'm working on all the requests left for this celebration.

Words: 3,9 k

“Do you know what you get yourself into if you sign this contract?” Lloyd Hansen, the devil with blue eyes asks.

“I need to money and uh…I tried anything else. I worked my ass off and even sold my car. It’s no use,” you exhale deeply to calm your racing heart. “The debts are eating me alive, and the only thing left that I could sell is my…virginity.”

He watches you squirm in your seat, amused, and aroused at the same time. “Aw, you’re a cute little cupcake. I’d love to have a taste of you myself, but I don’t shit where I eat – you know.”

Lloyd cocks a brow when you reread the standard contract he handed to you. “So, you will put me on your website and your customers will buy me?” You blink a few times to not cry. This feels so surreal and wrong. How did you stoop so low that you sold your body to a stranger?

“Kinda,” Lloyd gets up from his chair to show you his iPad. “We don’t sell you off to a random douche. I don’t want a cute muffin like you to end up under a sick bastard. All my clients are gentlemen.”

You nod slowly and try to remember every detail he tells you. “Okay.”

“You can choose ten out of my clients and, if you want to, a wild card.” Lloyd hands you the tablet. “If you choose only ten out of my clients one of them will have the honor to fuck you first.”

You fight the urge to scrunch your nose up. “What’s the wild card?” You look up from the iPad to meet Lloyd’s eyes.

“If you choose ten men and the wild card, you will get more money,” he explains. “The start offering will be one million dollars. You’ll get six hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll arrange everything for your safety.”

You gasp loudly. This amount of money would save you and allow you to live a better life. You don’t care Lloyd will have almost half of the money. He provides the hotel suite and will make sure that you’ll come home safely.

“The men will attend an online auction. They will bid on you. If you get lucky, they will pay more than one million bucks.”

“Wow!” You exclaim. Even if it’s the worst thing you’ll ever do, this arrangement will help move on from your past and pay your debts.

“Now, I’ll tell you about the wild card,” Lloyd sits next to you. “The wild card is special. You cannot choose this man, but you’ll get two hundred and fifty thousand bucks more. No matter who wins the auction. You’ll get eight hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“He’s not a creep, right? I don’t want my first time to be with someone hurting me or ignoring my safe word,” you wring your hands.

“The wild cards are my special clients. These men have my trust, sweetness,” Lloyd says. “The inner circle of my organization. It consists of ten men. You will find none of them in my files.”

“I could need the extra money,” you ponder. “You promise that they are not crazy or shit?”

“I’m the craziest guy in this organization,” he flashes you a smile. “And you are not scared of me, right?”

“You’re intimidating,” you shyly admit as you glance at Lloyd. “But you didn’t hurt me or scare me. You were nice.”

“Hah, did ya hear that, sunshine?” Lloyd yells, making you flinch. The door immediately flies open, and his assistant walks inside. “See, she thinks I’m nice.”

“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you like I do,” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at Lloyd. “Sweetie don’t let him talk you into this wild card shit. His buddies are the worst, and he’s the king of shit!”

“Darling don’t be rude,” he gets up to wrap his arms around her waistline. She squirms in his hold, giggling while pushing against his shoulders. “Give your man a kiss.”

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

“You love the mustache. It makes your clit all tingly when I go down on you,” he steals a kiss, and gropes her plump ass. “If not for my new client, I’d fuck you right here and now to put a little Lloyd inside of you.”

“You’ll take care of the sweet girl first. You better not pressure her into this shit,” she grunts and pushes Lloyd off her. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

She walks back outside and closes the door with a loud thud.

“A hell of a woman,” he hums and adjusts his pants. “I found her—” Lloyd clears his throat. “Never mind. That’s a story to tell later.”

“Can you tell me what the men will expect? I mean, aside from having sex with me.”

Lloyd smirks. “You don’t have to worry about kinky shit. The contract includes vaginal sex  - missionary, or doggy style. Maybe a blow job. Protection is a must. If you want it to be pleasurable for you too, play with your pussy, or think of something nice.”

“I’d imagine Bucky,” you blur out. “I—fuck.” You curse when Lloyd cocks a brow. “He’s my dad’s best friend, and a little older than me. Not a gramps or something.”

“Bucky, huh?” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you hastily say. “His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.” You swoon now. “He never looked at me twice, but if I want to get off, I always imagine him.”

“As long as you don’t moan his name, I don’t care what you do to get into the mood,” Lloyd says, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on. “Back to the options. Wild card yes or no?”

You look at the iPad again. What is one more stranger, right? “Yes.”

“Barnes,” Lloyd grins like the devil. “Hey, no swear words, sunshine. I got a nice little deal for you.” He grunts and mutters into the phone. “Would you just listen for a moment? A nice little bird came to me. I think you know her…”

“Y/N!” Your dad’s best friend jogs next to you. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Uh-hi,” you squeak when he wraps you in a hug. “Nice to see you, Bucky.”

“How have you been?” He releases you to lock you up and down. “You look a little stressed. Is everything alright? You know that you can always come to me. I’m like an uncle to you.”

“Uncle,” you wrinkle your nose. “Right.” You shake your head at the naughty thoughts wanting to force their way to the front of your mind. “I’m good. Really. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” He presses on. “If you are scared to tell your dad, tell me. I won’t say a thing.”

“I said that I’m fine,” you snap at him as a woman gets out of his car and calls his name. “How about you go back to your arm candy and leave me alone? We haven’t heard of you for two years.”

You twirl around and storm off. You don’t need anyone to help you. Lloyd offered more money than you’ll need to pay the debts your dad left you when he passed away.

Bucky didn’t even know about it because he just doesn’t care…

“Pumpkin,” Lloyd claps his hands as you walk inside the expensive penthouse suite. “You look stunning.” He grins as you squirm under his gaze.

He walks toward you to hand you the iPad. “The wild card won the auction,” he casually says. “I transferred the town hundred and fifty thousand bucks to your bank account. This is the point of no return. If you want out, say it now.”

“I know,” you released a shuddery breath. “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money. It’s one night with a guy you trust. So…let’s get this over with.”

“On the bed is something the wild card got for you. OH, and he wants you to put the blindfold on. It’s his special request,” Lloyd gently pats your shoulder. “I promise he’s a good guy, and won’t hurt you, pumpkin. Just remember the only two rules. Never ask why they pay you for sex, and, never let them do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you—” you close your eyes and take deep breaths. “I can do this. Please leave me alone now. I need to get ready.”

“If he crosses a line,” Lloyd says. “You say Lloyd, and I take the door down.”

“What? I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows.

“Just say Lloyd.” He whispers in your ear.

“Lloyd,” you say, and the lights in the room turn red. An alarm shrills and you need to cover your ears. “Oh…wow.”

“See, I take care of my girls. Do not let him gag you, though,” he warns. “If he tries anything you don’t agree to, yell my name and I’m there in a split-second.”

You nod and give Lloyd a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“I make money with my girls. I don’t want them to get hurt or worse,” he says. “I’m not a saint or a good guy. But no one hurts my girls.”

You watch him leave the room and release another shuddery breath.

He’s right. This is it. The point of no return…

The gift from the wild card is a silky nightie dress in your favorite color. Midnight blue. It has a plunging back and lace-lined cups. It fits you like a second skin.

You close your eyes and count to ten to calm your racing heart as you put the blindfold on. It’s the wild card’s special wish, and you don’t want to piss him off right away.

Maybe the blindfold will make things easier. You can imagine any face, while the stranger is inside of you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful.” You shudder as his voice is deep and rough. He entered the room without making a noise, and now he’s already so close you feel his breath fan over your neck. “I see you are wearing my gift.”

“Yes…Sir…” You breathlessly reply. His hands ghost over your arms, touching you gently. “Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Hmm…” He hums. “We will see, doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “Can I call you doll? Is that alright with you?” His lips press against your neck, he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I need you to answer me.”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me,” you are already enchanted by the stranger. His scent is intoxicating, and his voice goes straight to your core.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his body. His chest is bare, and you feel his skin pressed against yours. “I dreamed of doing this with you.”

“You did?” You purr and lean your head against his shoulder. “What do you want to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckles as you press your butt into his crotch. “You’re eager to get me going, huh? Don’t worry. I’m already so hard for you it hurts.”

He releases you and steps away to admire your wrecked state. You’re a panting mess, and your legs quiver. “Beautiful and so responsive.” He’s back on you to slide the thin straps of the nightie down your shoulders. The stranger nips at your neck, leaving little love bites on his way. “I can’t wait to have you.”

“You have me,” you move your hand behind you, blindly grasping for his hair. He’s a stranger but feels so good against you. “I want you to have me.”

“I know, doll,” he whispers in your ear while shoving the nightie down your shoulders. The fabric drops to the ground and pools around your ankles. “I love how you feel against me. I bet you feel even better around me.”

His hands cup your breasts. One warm and soft, the other cold and a little rougher. He gropes your soft flesh and pinches your nipples. This stranger plays with your body and pulls all the right strings.

You don’t have to imagine someone else. His lips nipping at your earlobe, and his hands, those skilled tools press moans and whimpers out of you. “Sir…”

“It’s alright, doll. Be as vocal as you want to,” he smirks against your skin. “Relax and let me take good care of you.”

“Yes—” you hiss when he meaningly tugs at your nipples. “Ouch.”

“You are a big girl and can take it, baby doll,” he grinds into you to rub his aching cock against your butt. “I bet your pretty cunt is wet for me.”

Your voice fails. He’s moving one hand between your legs and pinches your clit through your soaked panties. “I knew it.” He teasingly pinches your clit, igniting another spark deep within you. “You’re mine now. Only mine. After tonight, you’ll never want another man. Say it!”

His other hand rips your panties off of your body, taking you by surprise. You squeak and giggle as he twirls you around. “You’re all I imagined you’d be,” he cups your face and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve been kissed before – but not like this. His lips are soft and tender, but the kiss gets heated when his hands move to your ass to hoist you up.

You end up in his arms and sling your legs and arms around his body out of instinct.

“Your lips taste like heaven.” He purrs while walking toward the bed. “I bet your sweet pussy tastes like sin.” You end up on the soft mattress, the stranger on top of you.

He kisses you again, slowly, and sensually this time. “I’m gotta have a taste, doll.” You wish you could watch him kiss his way down your body. It feels like his lips and hands caress every inch of your body they can reach. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The stranger moves lower, kissing you right above your belly button. He moans against your skin, making you shiver at the slightest touch.

His hands move over your thighs, spreading them wide so he can settle between your legs.

“Let me have a taste of heaven,” he presses a searing kiss to your pussy. “I’ve got you, doll.”

You shudder feelings his nose brushes your clit. “So pretty down here too,” he murmurs against you. His breath tickles your folds, leaving you wanting more. “Shhh…” He shushes you. “I only want to eat this sweet cunt out.”

He spreads your pussy lips, to look at your clit. “Ah…S-ir.” You stammer. “What are you doing?”

“Did no man ever put his mouth on you?” He looks up at you from between your legs, groaning loudly when you shake your head. “Good. I’m your first for everything then.”

Your mouth falls open. Why would he want to do such a thing? Isn’t this night all about him, not you? “Why?”

“I love eating pussy, doll,” he laughs. “And I want you slippery wet so I can shove my dick right into your tight little hole.”

You grab your tits, squeezing your flesh to do anything but lie there and wait for the stranger to rule your body.

He teases your pearl with the tip of his tongue, eager to please you. A shudder runs through you. You are so lost in his touch that you nearly forget this is about him and that he paid you to touch you.

This is not love-making, but a business transaction. “Please just fuck me…”

“Not yet,” he slaps your pussy lips. “I want you to be a good girl and let me enjoy every moment. “This includes tasting your cunt.”

“Oh-“ It never crossed your mind that a man could be interested in eating you out before getting off. “Be my guest.” You sass and spread your legs wider. “I’m on the menu tonight.”

“That you are,” he kisses the inside of your left thigh, caressing the soft skin with his lips and tongue. “But only for me.” He turns his attention toward your right thigh.  

He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Fuck, you smell so good, doll.” You gasp the moment he licks up your sex. It’s a new sensation and you already love it. “Use my face, come on.”

You bite your lower lip. Can you do this? Lloyd said this is all about the man’s fantasy, but he wants to give you pleasure too.

“Fuck,” you nod and start grinding your pussy against his mouth, hoping to get more of this new feeling. “Please.”

“Soon, baby doll,” he purrs and flicks his tongue to play with your little nub. You wiggle on the bed, grinding as he uses his mouth to send sparks of pleasure through your body. You don’t think, just feel.

You whimper and moan hearing him groan against you. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, spreading you wide as he teases your soaked hole with the tip of his index finger. “Oh God, yes. Please just put it inside,” you become impatient. “Fuck…please.”

He laughs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes one finger inside, curling his digit inside of you. “Relax, doll. I’m gonna give you my cock soon enough.”

“Y-es…p-lease,” you can’t think straight. Your body is on fire, and you need release, or you’ll lose your mind. “Please I want you to…”

“Baby,” he purrs while slowly starting to fuck you with his finger. “Soon…I’ve been waiting to have you for so long.”

He adds another finger, now pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot. “Fuck,” you exclaim loudly. “Ah, there…I need… I want…”

“No,” you don’t get to cum. He scissors you open, ignoring that you beg and plead. “Not yet. You’ll cum on my cock only. I want to feel you fall apart for the first time while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh baby doll,” he coos when you sniffle, and slam your fists into the mattress. “I don’t want to be cruel, only to make it easier for you to take me.”

“Please, I only want to feel you,” you hold out your hands, sniffling louder. “I need you to do it now before I get scared.”

“Shit,” you feel his fingers slip out of you. He crawls up your body and kisses you slowly. “Baby doll, tell me if you want me to stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“You pai—” He silences you with his lips and makes you forget that you are only here for him to get what he paid for. “I want you.” You don’t know why, but it’s true. All you want is to feel him inside of your body.

“Are you sure?” He asks against your lips. “Baby doll?”

“Yes,” you blindly grasp for him. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait any longer.” You don’t tell him that the man you wanted to be your first would never even look at you twice.

“You don’t have to beg me.” He angles his hips to run the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat feeling his length slide slowly into you. He stills his hips, groaning loudly as your walls strain against his intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby doll.” He buries his face in your neck, murmuring your name as he moves back and forth, always pushing a little deeper. “Open up to me, pretty doll.”

It hurts a little, and you hide your face in his shoulder, whimpering any time he tilts his hips. “I know, baby doll. It will feel good soon. Let me just,” he breathlessly whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N.”

You bite his shoulder when he slides all in with the next thrust. A whimper escapes your lips, and you claw at his back. “Shhh…you are doing so good for me, baby. I’m proud of you, my sweet princess.”

He wraps one arm around you and removes the blindfold with one swift motion. You gasp and dig your nails into his back. “Bucky?” You can’t help but whimper his name. “What?”

“I couldn’t let you do this. I wanted you for so long.” He claims your lips in a soft kiss. “You refused to take my help so I…”

“It’s you,” you cling to Bucky. “Not some stranger…it’s you…” you sniffle. “You’re here…”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips. “Do still want to…”

You wrap your legs around his waistline. “Yes…hell yes…” You grunt. “Please don’t stop now. We can’t stop now.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck and digs his knees into the mattress. You melt into his arms, knowing it’s not a stranger, but the man you adored and loved for years.

“We already broke all the rules, Y/N,” he slowly starts rocking his hips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bucky curses as you claw on his back. “My doll.”

He’s pushing harder into you with every thrust. It doesn’t matter that you feel like you are in a limbo of pleasured pain, or that you forgot the condom. All you are capable of is to stare up at Bucky as he takes you apart.

Your body belongs to him and opens up to Bucky like a flower finally deciding to bloom. Your core burns with desire for more of him. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Y/N,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to cry out loudly. Something drops to the ground in the room next door, but you don’t care.

You rock your body in sync with Bucky, urging him on to claim you, and your whole being. Even if you should be mad at him for tricking you, you can’t. Not when he pushes you over the edge, his name on your lips nor when he spills into you, cursing your name.

“Baby,” he worriedly looks down at you. You are panting heavily and are unable to open your eyes. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good…” 

Bucky slowly pulls out to lie next to you. He opens his arms and watches you lie on his chest.

“Why did you never come back?” You run your hand over his sweaty chest. “Bucky?”

“Your dad found out that I had a thing for his beloved daughter,” he runs his hand over your head. “I’m sorry. He left me no choice but to stay away from you. I had to keep my distance.”

“You could’ve come to his funeral,” you sniff. “Why did you leave me all alone?”

“I had problems with the law, and I was in the middle of a divorce. You didn’t need a drunk wreck longing for you,” he whispers. “I had to wait until I’m better and then Hansen called, telling me about your problems.”

“That fucker,” you grumble. “I knew he was going to trick me!”

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” Bucky softly says. “I paid all your dues before coming here. I just couldn’t resist you any longer. I had to have you.”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you explain everything to me later. Like – how do you know Lloyd Hansen? And what is going on with his assistant?”

“You will get to know everything.” He pecks your lips. “For now, all you need to know is that I love you…always have…”

Tags in reblog.

[cannellee]

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

UNVEILING FATE (serie) : part 1, next up : rin

alpha! kakucho x omega! reader (bonten)

— stuck working in a brothel to keep you safe from hunger, you're tasked to entertain a particularly dangerous and influential mafia group. however, you're met with a delicious smell which could only belong to one person, your soulmate...

my masterlist : ☆

"take this with you and don't mess up or you'll have some problems with the higher ups", your friend shoved a tray in your hands, her serious eyes looking at you.

the plate was full with tea and other delicacies you had been trained to serve over the past few weeks.

"I heard they're part of a huge business, wouldn't want to get on their bad side honestly", you eye her up, feeling yourself grow more uneasy at each confession. she seemed to catch on your nervousness.

"don't stress y/n, I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job! just breathe and everything will be fine okay?" you nodded hesitantly, readjusting your grip on the tray.

you felt your friend brush her hands through your hair one last time, tightening the fabric on your waist to make it look more snatched the way clients like them usually liked it.

you inhaled deeply, counting on the things you learned alongside the other girls. all you needed to do was look pretty, serve them the tea and stay quiet on one of the corner of the room, until one of them eventually finds you to his liking and takes you to a private room.

you walked through the long hallway, already hearing the shattering of glasses and aggressive discussions, while silently greeting the other omega who just came out.

upon hearing the various voices through the closed door, your confidence died down in the blink of an eye. that would be your first ever night with a costumer and you were deeply afraid of what was waiting for you.

you swallowed nervously the lump in your throat, clearing your throat and mustering the courage you needed. you needed this job, you couldn't fail.

you made sure to keep your scent down, stress making it definitely more sour than what most alphas liked, and finally, you opened the door.

the loud cheers didn't stop and you relaxed a bit when none of them seemed to pay any mind to the new intruder. they were all too absorbed in their conversations to even look your way.

that thought alone should have pushed you further into the room. it should've calmed you down enough that you would walk up to them and put the pastries on their table.

and yet, you did none of that. all too paralysed by the foreign scent, enveloping you as if to prevent you from smelling anything else. it was strong, commanding, but all too comforting to even feel threatening.

you didn't feel like moving, you wanted to remain in the warm embrace of the pheromones casually claiming you without you knowing. it didn't feel suffocating and you would've fight whoever asked you to leave the room.

you breathed in deeply, the room now silent and looking at you. you ignored them, eyes now frantically searching for the source of such a nice scent, and then you found him.

black eyes, long hair and a calm aura surrounding him which made you crave for more, needy for his touch even though you didn't know him.

and then he got up, went up to you and... growled, with anger in his eyes.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

kakucho felt disguted.

he never frequented brothels and was sure to keep it that way if only his boss wasn't the one to invite them here.

he watched the other executives already eyeing up the women working there, casually making advances and booking a room for later.

when they sat down around the huge table, workers after workers came in. ran looked ecstatic, loving the way their position could get them such a spectacle, and carefully judged each of them until their plates were full of food.

the meal was calmer, with kakucho's own scent turning bitter the longer he witnessed his colleagues' doings.

then came the desserts. this was over soon. he'd be able to get out of this place full of so many different pheromones it nearly gave him a headache.

kakucho wasn't by any means someone like ran or sanzu, who both easily found pleasure in such displays, loving the way omegas would flock around them and throw themselves at their feet.

kakucho didn't like the lingering looks from the women he obviously didn't intend to spend the night with. he cared too much about his job and too little about his own private life to actually pay any mind to love or sex.

fuck, he just wanted to get it over with so he could go and complete the work he had started a few hours prior to his boss calling him over.

he sat on the side farthest from the door, a strong scent around him to keep the workers away while he finishes his drink.

he didn't hear the door open, he wouldn't have looked at the person entering even if he did hear her.

but her scent.

kakucho was suddenly hit by a mind-blowing sweet scent, the sweetest he had ever smelled. his nose instantly picked up those new pheromones, inhaling deeply to keep the scent close.

he didn't realise his own pheromones started spreading like crazy, instantly reaching out to the pretty stranger right in front of him.

the other executives all stopped, intrigued at the scene in front of them and at how their usually cool headed friend was a second away from drooling.

you looked cute, adorable even, totally out of place and definitely not suited for such a place. what were you even doing here ? a lovely bite-sized omega like you was sure to get all the unwanted attention of all the perverts coming here.

god, you looked so innocent, kakucho didnt think he had ever seen such a pretty omega, your scent sent him into a haze like never before.

but despite the seemingly perfect moment, your presence was still bothering him. you couldn't possibly be working there. what were you doing with a tray in your hands ? and that dress ? you looked beautiful wearing it, but it was the usual clothing a girl working here would wear.

kakucho was growing even more mad the second he connected the dots and his already present annoyance only worsened.

what do you mean his omega was working in a brothel ?

he looked at you, watching as you eyed him with big doe eyes and a candid expression. you looked so sweet. kakucho couldn't believe he had found his one and only soulmate in a brothel.

while kakucho wasn't fond of spending his time doing anything other than working, he spared a spot for his partner. the thought of having a fated partner made his romantic heart melt, he had a soft spot for you and you were going to be the only one aware of it.

this is probably why he got up so aggressively and stopped abruptly in front of you, with nothing but pure rage at the treatment of his omega.

that's why he growled. not at you, but as a warning to whoever put you in there and accepted that you work for gross men, unaware that it was actually your first night.

he couldn't believe other men had touched you. were you scared ? did those people do bad things to you? how hard your life must have been that you would end up here...

his thoughts were racing, each one worse than the precedent. kakucho was having none of that and swore to get you out of here the second he laid his eyes on your much smaller form, looking up at him as if he was your saviour.

kakucho felt compelled to now take his responsibility as the alpha you waited for your whole life.

and similarly, kakucho felt deeply protective of you, alpha instincts urging him to shield you away from the flawed world which had done you wrong while soothing all your worries away. he had never felt so in touch with his instincts before, feeling them growing inside of him to push him to act the right way his omega mate would expect.

he felt so angry. but he had to swallow that down and make sure you were alright first. so he toned it down, putting on a genuinely kind smile, one nobody ever saw him with.

"don't worry, I'll take you away from this awful place. I'll offer you a much better life, you don't have to worry about anything anymore, m'kay?"

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS - part 2

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1

thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)

sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.

sugar: no problem, sir.

sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.

the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.

it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.

however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.

she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.

but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.

thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

you: ellie...?

ellie: hi baby.

you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.

ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?

you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.

you: what can i do for my favorite client?

ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?

you: like...a date?

ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?

you: sure! what should i wear?

ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.

you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.

ellie: are you blushing?

you: ....no.

ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.

you: hm, we'll see.

ellie: guess we will.

-

saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.

you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.

groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.

as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.

overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.

you would have to change jobs. and schools.

"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.

unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:

ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?

you: yes! i'm ready hehe

you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.

two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.

"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."

your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.

"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.

"ready to go?"

"yeah, let's go ahead."

"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."

taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.

and she was.

ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.

but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.

ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.

getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.

what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?

her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.

ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.

"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.

you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.

"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.

"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."

"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"

you nod, "much better, thanks."

"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.

"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."

"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."

approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.

"great taste. i love this song," you chime.

"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."

eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.

and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"

"hmm?"

"you keep staring at me."

"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.

"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.

you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."

the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."

the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.

"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.

"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"

you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"

"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.

-

"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.

ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"

"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."

"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.

you nod, "mhm, i am starved."

"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.

corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.

"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."

"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.

digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.

"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.

ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.

leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.

"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.

"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.

"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."

your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.

"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"

"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.

"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."

"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."

"fine."

when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.

"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.

"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."

and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"

walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.

"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."

as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.

this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.

your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.

"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.

"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."

"o-okay."

and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.

but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.

she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.

"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.

“please. please, kiss me.”

leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals. 

her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more. 

ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.” 

“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.

“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.

“what’s so funny?” 

you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride. 

you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”

ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.” 

pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.

hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in. 

they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent. 

“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below. 

“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment. 

she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you. 

“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.

“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.” 

your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.

“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.

“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air. 

ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again. 

- 

the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over. 

after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.

“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two. 

“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend. 

“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.” 

“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”

you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.

“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.

your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.

you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot. 

“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.

ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people. 

“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.

warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through. 

“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”

“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.

sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.

for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.

for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.

you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips. 

and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before. 

her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.

you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans. 

“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck. 

“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.

“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.

she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.

the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”

“then you better keep it down, pup.”

ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”

you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie. 

“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.

“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.

“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles. 

you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.

“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips. 

a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.

her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty. 

“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.

“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”

unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down. 

“use your words, pup.”

“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.

“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely. 

“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace. 

your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.

she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.

“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”

all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now. 

the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push. 

“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”

“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”

the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears. 

the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.

the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you. 

ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch. 

you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.

“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now. 

“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”

you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.

ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek. 

“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.

“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.

“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you. 

ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”

you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly. 

“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”

you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”

🫶🏼

[m0chisenpai]

lestat x black female reader

inspired by ep 1 where lestat invites louis and lily, but here it would be reader and lily where they are friends and lestat just uses lily to finally have reader 🤭

fascinating

˚｡⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader

in which you are the most fascinating being of the night

You were a fly on the wall when it came to Lily and her business. And you intended to remain the same, though you boarded in the same home as she, and the rest of her working girls did. You refused to partake in the business.

You were a…muscle of sorts. Though you could hardly overpower the men who she saw all you needed to do was scream for someone and the men would be sent right out without question.

You could never partake in the business of pleasure, it was not something that drew you in.

Truth be told the touch of a man made you feel ill. Not that you preferred the company of women, but the men who came in for Lily wanted one thing merely and that was to waste their seed and forget about their problems at home.

You could see right past their imported rings, their custom tailored suits. It was all a ruse to mask the broken little boys deep in their souls, but tonight Lily insisted you enjoy the music out on the patio while she handled her ‘business.’

This was typical, you kept her clients company while she got ready or wrapped up a previous one. She offered a portion of her earnings to you but you declined. But tonight you were in need of the funds for a new new novels you'd had your eyes on.

“I need you to keep an eye out for my next appointment love please?”

You hum turning your head rested in the palm of your hand to look at her.

And from the look in her eye you grumble like a child. “Not Lawrence again he is such dull company.”

“No now if he were coming I’d tell you to pick your book up and come. No this ones a French white,” she whispers it like a scandal and you will admit your interests are peaked.

“A french man Lily. What’s his name and what’s he look like?”

“Oh he’s got these dreamy blue eyes, golden locks. He knows to meet me up here, but you'll keep him entertained for me love won’t you?” When she holds your hands and pouts her lip you sigh and agree and she’s squealing and promising a treat on her next night.

You'll hold her to it.

When she’s gone your eyes return to the book, the light music spilling from the night sets the perfect ambiance for you to read from the tattered pages. You enjoy your little bubble in peace, oblivious to the man who now sits in front of you. Watching, drinking in your calming aura. It brings peace to his own mind.

It isn’t until his cane knocks into the table that you pick your head up to meet the most beautiful of eyes. This man is unlike the others. No, he is special. When you tilt your head ever so slightly he mirrors it back.

“I hope I am not of a disturbance, madame.”

“No,” your wet your lips finding your voice. “You must be looking for Lily. She should be ready for you in a moment I can alert her-“ When you go to stand his hand comes down upon the hand atop your book. But it is gentle, and it stops you.

“No please, I would prefer your company tonight.”

Oh now this was new, your eyebrow raises but your hand does not move from beneath his own. It is cold, but it is comforting in the humid evening. “I do not warm beds sir, if you’d like I can find you another woman to provide you the company you desire?”

“I think the company you offer surpasses any woman’s here, please sit. I will even pay you for your time.”

You hesitate for. A moment, but the extra money could provide you just enough for the new novel you’d been in search of. So you sit, crossing one leg over another.

“Where are my manners, what am I to call you madame?”

You offer your name and he whispers it back. “Lestat De Lioncourt, but for you my dear, Lestat.”

His answers are vague to your questions. She comes from France, from money passed on from a father. His mother travels the world since the passing of said father, and he finds himself in love with New Orleans.

“But enough about myself what-“

“Mr Lioncourt!” When Lily comes the tiniest bit of disappointment fills you. But Lestat’s eyes do not move when you dearest Lily returns by your side.

“Lily you did no tell me you had such interesting company around here.”

“I told you she is, she would rack in a fortune-“

“But I do not like the feeling of a man. It makes me…” you shake your head but Lily’s hand on your hand provides you comfort. Cause she knows, a secret that built the bridge of your sisterhood.

“Well I will leave you both to it, I’m gonna check in with Madame, Lily, you fine by yourself?”

“Of course, Mr.Lioncourt is my last of the night then we can go to that new cafe.” You stand, book in hand to walk past but Lestat’s hand holds your elbow. Had it been any other man your instinct would be to step aside out of their grasp.

But his hand does not feel like fire on you. And he drops a ring in your hand, a fortune which he lays his hand atop.

“Will this suffice?”

“Yes, thank you Lestat.” You smile and move to leave his hand dropping from your hand. Yet his gaze does to leave until you are completely out of sight.

Lestat begins to buy up Lily’s time, to the point where she hardly can see others. She wasn’t comparing the man paid her extremely well from what you could tell, enough that she was giving you a portion her earnings.

“I just feel bad, dragging you to and from. But I think he is sweet on you love.”

“He is not.” You giggle as she bumps into your side as you walk to the mans home, your elbows linked and walking slow enjoying this rare moment of peace with one another.

“He is! You know….” She leans up to speak into your ear, “I think he pretends it is you some nights.”

“You and your imagination Lil,” she giggles right until he is meeting you at the iron gates and letting the both of you in. It was always the same, he offers you both a drink, you speak for a bit, the two go upstairs while you drown the noise out with a song on the record or one of Lestat's novels from his collection, then Lily walks you both back home.

But tonight it was as though the two knew something. Because when she passes Lestat the gaze they exchange is....mischievous? Perhaps she has found a new trick for him. Lily pauses in the doorway cursing beneath her breath when you are shedding your coat.

“I left my compact at Lawrences love I’ll be right back!” And she’s dashing out the door before you can run after her. Lestat closes the door just when your hand reaches for the knob and your looking at him, chest to chest, eyes wide as a does in embarrassment.

“I hope is am good company,” he holds his hand to you. And you lay your hand in his, letting him lead you into the parlor. Two glasses await you before the lit fireplace.

The record plays the softest of music, dare you say romantic

The setting feels too intimate, especially as he places his hand now to the small of your back nudging you to join him on the couch beside him where he sits close, closer than most do. But you attribute it to his heritage. He was always more touchy, cold skin was something you were used to and never flinched at when you felt it.

He deposits a glass, half filled into your hands and clinks your glasses together. You take a slow sip. It’s a smooth red that warms your bones and you set it back down. When you look up at him, his gaze is settled on you, almost loving. Too kind for your linking to you settle on looking at the spot between his eyes.

“Do you find my company a nuisance?” He tilts his head, and a furrow creases the perfect marble of his skin. “Because I can’t offer you what Lily has. I’m sorry.”

“Au contraire my little love,” his hand slips into your own, lifting it to press a kiss to your hand. “ Your company offers me something hers does not.”

Now it is your turn to be confused and you tilt your head. He continues, “Your questions. Your thoughts. Your hunger and desire to know the things beyond man and God. You hunger for something more.” As he speaks his hand rests across your bare chest, where your heart beats beneath his cold palm.

”It is here. And I too had such desires. Until it brought you to me. My answered prayer. The one who alone can satisfy this hunger.” You don’t realize how your body seems to draw closer. Your own hand resting where his heart should beat.

You should feel sick, you should be broken. No man can fill the void of your heart. “You were never broken, your soul knew what your flesh knew not. It needed me.”

When you go to move back his hand rests at the back of your neck, but it is gentle. His hand are always so gentle. “How did you know.”

”Because my love. We were meant to be, to be companions for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come.”

You don’t know why it feels so hard to breathe. But he is sliding another ring from his pinky, and he drops it into your hand, curling your hands around it to hold between both his hands.

“Be my companion, my love, let me fulfill every desire these mortal men have neglected. Please,” he whispers your name like a prayer. He's not like him, the one who left you broken. No. Lestat does not look at you in such a way. You are not damaged goods, no. You are the pieces of a broken promise.

And he intends to fix it. He intends to remedy every single thought, every way those mortal boys have misused you. Tears fill your eyes, sliding down the slopes of your cheeks. You can only slowly nod.

And he is devouring your lips, the flames burn higher.

”Oh love!” Lily squeals seeing you at your normal spot. Your back is to her, hair pinned up in a gorgeous crown braid with silk ribbon. It had been some time since you returned. Whispers spread that you eloped, that you ran off to France, hopped a train to New York with some man.

but Lily long since told you needed a break. Though her heart did drop when she returned one day to a simple letter of your departure, she was reassured by the set date of your return for the fall.

And here you sit unbothered by the chill.

“Lily,” your voice is so smooth, had you always sounded like that? When she is able to see you, you look up at her.

Golden eyes, stare into her brown ones.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal." “Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-" You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: Well, hello there!

I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!

To: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Subject: I think I have a Virus?

12:50 AM (10 min ago)

Hey Sugar,

I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.

Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.  

Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant. 

(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)

Thanks,

Joel Miller 

Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group

(512) 123-4567

To:J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com 

Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?

1 AM (0 seconds ago)

Good Evening Mr. Miller,

I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".  

Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.

Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.  

Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.

Goodnight!

IT Specialist 0926,

IT Department, Miller Construction Group

(512) 765-4321

"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."

Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.

It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it. 

"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"

"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."

"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"

"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."

"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"

Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.

Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"

You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.

"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."

She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.

"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."

She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"

A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often.  Way too often.

[My laptop won't turn on.]  Did you charge it? Try doing that first.

[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?]  Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.

[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?]  It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.]  Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret.  [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.]  Uh, sure Mr. Miller.

You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again.  There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).

After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.

Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...

Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly.  Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns... 

Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all.  At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right.  Wants? What kind of a file name is that?

The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.  

Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.

Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.

Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)

Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)

You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.  

Wants.

What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.  

What the fuck did I just read?

“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”

You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list… 

Kiss her in the rain.

Make love in my truck as she rides me. 

Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

Marathon sex

Eat her out as she works at her desk.

No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right.  I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself.  Who would want someone so pathetic as me?

It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?

You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.

There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?

Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.

"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."

"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"

"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"

As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.

After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.

It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.

You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring.  It's just a coincidence, right?

“Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”

“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.

You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”

You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”

“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”

“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”

“Joel.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”

“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”

“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”

“No.”

“No?” 

“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“

He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“

"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"

"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"

"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."

"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.

"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."

Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"

"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"

"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"

How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother.  Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...

Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"

“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.  

"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."

“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"

You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“

“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”

“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”

“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”

“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“

You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—

“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”

“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”

Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”

That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”

He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”

You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.

"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."

Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."

A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.

"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."

A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.

"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.

"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."

He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."

You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"

"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."

You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.

As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.

As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.

Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.

"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."

He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"

A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.

Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115

For more updates on all of my fics, please follow @chiriwritesstuffnotifs

All dividers by @saradika-graphics

[periwinkla]

How Takumi writes romance - and narumitsu thoughts

I feel the way he writes it is.... dare I say realistic? If dramatic. Which is also very realistic honestly. To be fair all AA characters are kinda.. dramatic themselves so any couple that comes from that HAS to be dramatic. Anyway the point I want to make is that I honestly LOVE the way he writes romance, like come on LOOK at the canon ones: -the Delites (crazy in love and also in general <- perfect AA couple example) -Maggey and Gumshoe (not a canonical couple per-se but canonically down bad for each other and also both kinda wild, one in a way the other in another.... it's left to interpretation whether they get together after AA3, but it is fairly hinted) -Mia and Diego (very realistic? love can be tragic, also love leads you to make bad choices sometimes) -that one wild tgaa couple (don't wanna spoil) -actually multiple tgaa couples This is unironically peak romance to me. We never see the actual development of these couples here. Takumi shows they love each other, he doesn't simply tell you by making characters confess or have cute moments together. You see them do foolish things for each other, you see them care. You see them being illogical and that leads to them doing bad, messed up things sometimes. When I think about that one discussion going around Suekane telling Takumi he wasn't writing the narumitsu scene right so he better scrap the scene (which is honestly a bit of an ambiguous info to be taken with a pinch of salt imo, but let's analyze this anyway) I think the main problem is that that's just not how he writes. It's just not! He didn't write AA that way and it shouldn't be forced like that. It would feel out of place. Like, look at this (obviously just trilogy stuff because that's what Takumi wrote): -Miles' very odd conversation with Iris -generally every poetics Miles spews in the trilogy... -his agreeing to doing something so incredibly foolish at the drop of a hat such as donning a defense attorney badge? (after an harrowing hurried flight over in the middle of the night) He even suspends his disbelief and still resorts to using an artifact that reminds him of the ugliest event of his life? -Phoenix's depression after Miles disappears...? He already wasn't accepting any clients after 1-4 (Ema had to force him) which I think was a mix of things (Mia's death, Maya's departure, the fact that he had accomplished his goal with Miles but apparently they didn't keep in touch?) but then after Miles' note it just went even worse - if Maya wasn't there to basically drag him around, what would have happened? How was he paying rent? Groceries? He wasn't working. How was he planning to continue living exactly? -Phoenix's I-am-the-only-one-who-can-save-him obsession is similar to Godot's I-blame-myself-for-not-saving-her, who has it over someone he canonically loves... and they're both very pretentious about it as well. While these are definitely character flaws, they show as I said that love doesn't always lead to logical and healthy thoughts or choices and sometimes it leads to you doing very messed up things… This is all way more telling to me. And of course I don't believe in a million years the games will ever make it a canonical couple, but in my heart they care so much for the other that all I can discern from this is that at least they canonically love each other. Was it meant to come across that way? Who knows. But sometimes your own creation gets away from you (also it's not like Takumi made AA123 all by himself, other people were involved).

[owlespresso]

the coring, the goring

alpha!blade/beta!reader/omega!luocha you are a beta courier. kafka asks of you a favor. tags: filth and spice below like you wouldn't believe, extremely dubious consent, luocha and blade are freaks but that's nothing new, prone bone pt 3 of my part in @lorelune's a/b/o collab. they've been extremely generous enough to beta read all three parts and give feedback. i could not have done this without them! part 1, part 2, collab masterlist

Kafka shows up at your apartment, one afternoon. After Blade stayed over, flayed you open, left your tender underbelly exposed to the pale moonlight. You still don’t know how you feel about him. You do, however, know how you feel about her.

You’ve never told her where you live, but it doesn’t surprise you that she knows. She lingers in the doorway, leaned up against the left side. Her coy smile is more subdued than usual.

“I need your help with something,” she says. At least she isn’t wasting time on the pleasantries, today. That’ll get her to leave quicker, and that’s pretty much all you’re concerned with. You still blanch, because she wants something from you. That’s always a dire sign. Something in your life is about to go awry.

“You can’t find someone else? I’m a bit busy today.” you narrow your eyes at her. Her smile tightens. Whatever she’s come here for, it must be urgent. 

“Whatever your clients pay you, I’ll double it for the days you miss. Every single one. I’ll even throw in some of those honey candies you like to sweeten the deal.”

“Days?” you blink, already beginning to calculate the potential gains and losses in your head. Missing several shifts could lose you a few clients—could you wheedle her into paying you that difference until you find new ones?

“Yes, days,” Kafka twirls a lock of her hair absentmindedly. “You see, Bladie has a little problem that needs delicate taking care of—” she begins, voice pitching up, preparing to wind around the crux of the whole thing until you lose your mind. 

You cut her off there. “Just give it to me straight.”

“Always so forward,” she pouts. Her voice winds up like she’s about to give you a scolding, but she flattens out, lips curling into a lazy smile. “I like that about you.”

“Bladie is in rut,” she continues. Slowly, like she’s explaining the concept to a child. “He has someone to take care of him—that merchant, the blonde one. The only problem is, well… their paths don’t make them entirely compatible.”

Your lips twitch into a frown. Destruction and Abundance, on opposite ends of the spectrum. If they were both normal people, it wouldn’t pose a problem… but you have no idea if Blade’s unique condition could cause complications. Regardless, you’re not sure why she’s telling you. This isn’t your problem.

“They’ll need a mediator—” she begins.

You’ve heard enough. “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, c’mon. These two have been barking up your tree for more than a month and you’re not curious?” she teases, 

“No.”

She says your name. Your spine goes rigid. Something sweet and cloying pricks its claws into the soft flesh of your consciousness. This is suddenly no longer a negotiation.

“You don’t have to do anything. You just have to be… present, in case Blade’s mara rears its ugly head.”

“You could do that,” you point out.

Kafka shrugs. “I could, but that isn’t the only benefit of having an emanator of Harmony around. I can’t mediate like you can,” You hold your tongue only because you know she’s right. “I know it’s a hassle, but I’ll make it worth your while. And I’ll pay you triple of what you would have made this week.”

You narrow your eyes. “And if his rut doesn’t last a week?” Unease churns at the bottom of your gut. This isn’t your wheelhouse. To delve to the depths of intimacy when you haven’t even waded the shallows is unwise at the very best, life-endangering at the worst. You’re not attached to Luocha and Blade in the way they are attached to each other. And the moment you lower the drawbridge and weaken your walls, you anchor yourself even further to the Luofu.

“You’ll be paid the same, regardless.” Kafka says, as though it’s in any way comforting.

You loosen the tensed muscles of your jaw. It’s not as though you… dislike Blade. You think about him, early in the morning, when you’re too sleepy to get your thoughts straight. You remember keenly the press of his lips, the smell of him as he breached your personal space, permitted himself to your skin—

You shut your eyes. You feel too hot, all of the sudden, “Can I get that in writing?” 

“If it’ll make you feel better, I can wire you the money right now—” Kafka slides her phone out of her pocket, nimble fingers clicking all over the screen. You still aren’t comforted. 

“No, it’s fine,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose, already feeling the oncoming headache. You can’t believe you’re doing this. “When do I have to be there?”

—

The house looks the same as it always does. There’s nothing new on the breeze. Nothing beside the rustling of the leaves and the chirping of the birds. You knock on the door. Luocha stands in the doorway, red robe hanging off his shoulder. Bruises bloom on his skin like blood in water, spots of bluish-purple that run up the left side of his neck. You blink, speechless. He’s greeted you dressed like this, before, but he’s never looked so ragged. So run-down. His lips are kiss-swollen, lit up an angry pink. Flaxen blond flows down his shoulders like a river stream, strands sent awry in several places—they look like they’ve been tugged at, manhandled in a way you never imagined he would allow.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” he chimes, and steps aside. He motions for you to come in. It’s a threshold you’ve crossed many times, but something about this feels permanent. There’s a heavy feeling in the air. The faint scent of something spiced and smoked lingers throughout the entryway and living room. Unease prickles up the back of your neck. The door clicks shut behind you. A hand lands on your shoulder. “No need to be so tense, my dear Courier. Nothing bad will happen to you here.”

“What exactly will happen here? Kafka gave me the rundown, but…”

“Well, that depends on you,” Luocha hums. The warm hand on your shoulder slides down to your bicep. He stands behind you, a solid stroke of heat along your back. “I know I speak for us both when I say we would very much like you to participate, but all you really have to do is… watch.” He breathes the word, breath soft and hot against your ear.

He slips away from your side. The space he occupied at your back feels cool and empty. You shiver.

“—And you’ll have to intervene should anything go awry. While I can sate his carnal urges, the same cannot be said for his mara,” Luocha continues, cracking open the bedroom door. 

“You came,” Blade’s voice rumbles, raspy with sleep and something else. He’s laid across the bed like a lounging panther, appraising you with eyes half-open. The long stretch of his body is completely bare, all broad muscle and softness in certain places. He’s taken the bandages off his chest, you realize after a few moments of looking (staring) at him from the doorway. Free of clothes and free of scars, a perfect statue of a man.

Luocha, behind you, mistakes your shock for apprehension. He laughs by your ear.

“It’s only natural to be apprehensive. Come. Just watch for a bit.” His fingers squeeze your shoulders. You let him steer you over to an armchair with green cushions sat by the nightstand, up against the wall. Blade stares at you from the other side of the bed.

He doesn’t stop looking at you. Even when Luocha rests a knee on the bed, robe slipping off his arm, inch by inch of pale skin opened to the gaping maw of his gaze. His back—it’s as broad as you would expect from a man who lugs around a coffin on the daily. Not as big as Blade. There’s a sinuous grace to his figure, with narrow hips and—you don’t dare let your gaze lower. Because he’s looking at you looking at him over his shoulder with that coy little smile, just waiting for you to slip up.

And then he’s not looking at you, anymore. You’re entreated to a view of those long, luscious locks—sliding over the alabaster of his back as he approaches Blade on his knees. 

“Well, Blade. I know you’re excited, but you’ll have to settle for me for just a little longer,” he says. You nearly open your mouth to remind him that you haven’t agreed to anything, but the breath is robbed from you as he mounts Blade’s thighs. 

The alpha’s cock is long and thick enough to make you cringe as the tip nestles between Luocha’s cheeks. Twin groans fill the air. Blade’s voice is low and coarse, the vibrating thrum of an old engine. 

Luocha luxuriates in the stretch. His back arches, head bowing back as he takes the other man inch-by-inch. The dim light which reaches in through the closed blinds casts him in perfect clarity, and you can see his thighs begin to shake as he seats himself fully on Blade’s lap. His fingers fist in the sheets on either side of him, glimmering silk bunched between long pianist’s fingers. Cock taken to the hilt. 

“You’re putting on a show,” Blade accuses.

“And you’re watching.” Luocha replies, voice breathy and soft. He starts to say something else—but Blade’s hands fit over his hips, bulky fingers nestling into his v-lines. His voice devolves into a choked little sound as he’s lifted, until only the tip remains inside of him. The effortless gesture of strength makes you swallow and sink back in your seat. The air swells with unabated sweetness. And you—you react to it. 

Your fingers tense briefly, gripping the hard cushion armrests as you watch Blade fuck into him with voracity bordering unhinged. Luocha’s soft moans reverberate through the room, each one goes straight to your wetting cunt. Your thighs squirm and shift, pressed tight together. 

Blade grunts. His thrusts lose what little rhythm they possessed to begin with. You see every slide of his thick cock into Luocha’s loosened hole—slick-doused and swelling. You can see the muscles in Luocha’s back tense and stretch as he arches. The orgasm wracks him bone-deep. His toes curl. And Blade—Blade’s grip only tightens. Luocha’s thin waist is clutched entirely in his hands. His nails dig into the skin as he sheathes himself with a throaty snarl. The cum is so excessive that it drips and pools on the silken sheets, running down Luocha’s creamy thighs.

The room goes quiet. There’s only the steady sound of their mixed breathing, desperate huffs which level out over the next however long. You’re stuck there, still. The room smells of sex. A strange, hot feeling rolls down your spine. You feel like an exposed nerve. Like a trigger a hair away from being pulled.

Luocha, eventually, pulls himself off of Blade with another slick sound. Blade shuts his eyes and reaches out a shaky hand, wrapping it tight around Luocha’s shoulder. His nails bite into the pale skin, thick fingers right next to a ring of recent bitemarks.

“Mm,” Luocha pauses. He presses his lips to the scarred fingers which clutch him. At this distance—you can sense the sudden lurch of Destruction, spurred on by cloying mara and the natural, ingrained need to give chase. To empty the wellspring of Luocha’s Abundance like a man parched. You tense in your seat. Pushing your scrambled nerves aside, you reach for the Harmony—expel it and let it float through the chamber. “I'm not going anywhere, Blade. You know that.” Luocha says. Blade’s grip loosens. The wildfire in his eyes dims to a hearth. He settles.

Now free to be as obnoxious as he likes, Luocha turns fully to you.

“Ah,” his eyes twinkle as he licks his lips, looking at you now. “Did that do it for you?”

“N…No.” your voice feels thick in your throat. The most bold-faced lie you’ve ever told.

Luocha laughs a little. “It’s alright; you don’t have to say it. How about you come over here? Or do you want me to come over there?”

“I’m perfectly content to watch,” you insist. Your voice comes out steadier than you thought it would. But Luocha only smiles. He regards you with that same, infuriating knowingness that he always does. 

He slides off the mattress, smooth as fine grain sand and assured in his nakedness. You feel the tips of your ears get hot as he approaches, crosses the breadth of the room with swaying hips. 

He has you, and he knows it. Long fingers slide over your arms where they clutch the armrest. His thumbs rub over the back of your palms as he looms close. 

“You can stop this,” he murmurs, voice close to a whisper. He pries your fingers off the armrest, urges your hands to go limp. “Any time you want,” he says, but you don’t feel like it. You feel pinned by the voracity in Blade’s eyes as he stares at you from his perch on the mattress. 

Luocha slides to his knees like a swan takes to water. Slender fingers work the buttons of your trousers open, thumbs which slide beneath your waistband pull them down. You make a grab for the elastic, clutching it in your fist. The breath rushes in and out of your lungs, something in you suddenly awoke. The fear and an apprehension you should have felt from the start snap to life like a bolt of lightning.

But Luocha. Luocha gently pulls it again. More like an ask than a demand, and you let it go. You swallow as he slides them off. revealing the seat of your panties. Wet.

“Oh? All for us? That’s very flattering,” he says, like you’re a child who's earned the praise. You don't know what kind of face you make, but it must accurately convey your displeasure because his eyes crinkle, unmistakably fond. “Forgive me. I simply can’t resist teasing you… and I was under the impression that you hated me for the longest time.”

Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. Your throat feels full of something thick and unsweet. 

Your underwear comes next. It's a simple black pair. He thankfully spares you the commentary as he delicately slides it down your thighs, your legs, so meticulously careful in his handling of you.

“Well, you still might,” he continues, once you're bare from the waist down. “But at the very least, I know you feel some base level of attraction.”

His tongue parts the wet folds of your pussy. You tilt your head back, fingers curling to clutch the armrests, unwilling to watch him make a mess of you. The air feels liquid around you, murky with their scents—which have taken on, somehow, a new intensity. 

You don’t get to think about it, because Luocha brings your knee over his shoulder and puts his lips on your clit, tip of his tongue flirting with your entrance. He laps up your slick, drinks you in like a man starved. You jerk, a wheeze rattling out from between your ribs, but Luocha holds you fast. 

Pleasure surges in you like a current, a clever twist of his tongue making you jerk—and moan, like the harlot you know you are not. It sinks in, then and only then, as you clench his flaxen locks in your fist, that this is happening.

But you don’t get to digest it. Something hot snaps in the core of you, toes curling as you gush wet and hot into his eager mouth. 

His lips are shiny with your slick when he pulls away, lips curved into an unmistakably satisfied grin. Your chest rises and falls as you try and catch your breath. You feel—wrung out, hazy in the remnants of your climax. 

“I hope I lived up to your expectations.” 

You blink blearily at him. “I didn’t expect anything from you in the first place.”

There’s a small huff from behind him. A small smirk pulls at the corners of Blade’s lips. 

“How charmingly candid,” Luocha says, unbothered. You’re still too witless to muster a witty retort. Or any sort of retort at all, because as soon as you try, he heaves you into his arms with an ease you hadn’t expected. 

An undignified sound bleats from deep in your throat, words on the tip of your tongue mangled as you scramble for purchase. You dig your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. The muscles there are broad and smooth. Exactly what you would expect from a man who carries a coffin around with him all day.

“Wait just a second—”

“You surely don’t think the chair will be a more comfortable place for this than the bed, do you?” he asks, hands big and warm on the backs of your thighs. 

“Don’t just go picking someone up without warning,” you seethe, and it still feels like a concession.

“Ah,” Luocha’s smiling again. “My apologies—I forgot how easily you scare. I’ll be sure to give you due warning, next time.”

“I don’t scare easily.” you mutter. He hums. Then he gently deposits you onto the mattress. Blade lounges easily, passion only betrayed by his smoldering, half-lidded gaze. The long line of his body is caked in muscle. The kind of body you’d expect from someone who carries around a sword that heavy—whose hands have ended a number of lives and worlds beyond your reckoning.His chin rests idly on the palm of his hand. Your gaze drifts over the smooth ridges of his abdomen, the plush of his chest.

Luocha settles up against the headboard. His cock is out, you realize belatedly. It stands hard and proud against his stomach. And his thighs glisten with release—both his and Blade’s. Your cunt throbs.

A hand reaches over and fists in Luocha’s hair, dragging him downwards for an open-mouthed kiss. He tongues your release from Luocha’s mouth. Lewd, wet sounds fill the balmy air, rumbling groans and soft little whines. Even now, in this deep between them, you feel like a voyeur. Yet, you watch them with lips parted and eyes wide.

You shudder.

Eventually, they separate.Wordlessly,  Blade sits up and disappears behind you. You try to crane your neck to follow where he goes, but Luocha’s nimble fingers yet again seize your jaw.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, voice delicate as it hovers in the air between you. “Blade’s not going anywhere, dear. Just focus on me for the time being, alright?”

But it’s so hard when you can feel the presence behind you, hovering like a dark cloud. You swallow, the noise impossibly loud in your own ears. Your cunt is wet and you’re sweating and your shirt is still on—but Luocha endeavors to fix that in the next moments. It’s difficult, in the haze of everything, to keep track of where his fingers go or when your button-up slides off your shoulders, to breathe when he unlatches the clasp of your bra like he’s done it a thousand times before. 

How many people has he done this with, before? A bitter taste twinges at the back of your mouth. Unprovoked and without reason. 

Blade’s big hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing the space above your waist.

“Handle her gently, Blade,” Luocha murmurs gently. His soft hands stroke down your bare arms. His verdant gaze drags down your torso, too slow to be anything but indecent.

Blade grunts. He squeezes, once, before he lifts you without warning. You splutter, hands snapping to perch on Luocha’s shoulders for some sense of balance as you’re moved with near pitiful ease. The show of strength sends a fresh wave of heat flush to your drooling cunt, and you try not to pant as you feel the tip of Luocha’s cock nestle against your folds. 

Your fingers curl and your eyes shut.

“Just like that,” Luocha says, simple and light. Another pair of hands settles on your thighs—and he’s breached you. You choke.

The stretch hurts. You didn’t expect anything else, but your head still falls back, eyes clenching shut as your walls spasm and squeeze tight. Behind you, Blade pants like a dog, huffing into the crook of your neck, inhaling you by the lungful. There’s a tremble in his hips that you can feel. 

It takes you a moment to realize that the whimpers filling the room are yours. 

“Re—lax,” he breathes, sounding almost pained. Like he has the right to. Like he isn’t fucking you open, pushing deep in as your greedy cunt squeezes and struggles to take him. Your knees press hard into the mattress, instinct prompting your aching thighs to buck upwards and flee the intrusion, but Blade holds you fast, grinding his teeth into your aching skin. 

“You’re doing so well for me, darling,” Luocha praises, cooing as your cunt clenches, “Oh,” he sighs, like he’s awed by it. His green eyes, unseeing, blown wide—your hands scramble for purchase on his shoulders as Blade lifts you again, up and up until only the head of his cock remains inside. “Gentle, Blade.” he bids, eyelids low—

And then Blade eases you down. It’s a slow drag. It hurts less, this time. Sparks of pleasure roll up your spine and send your cunt aflutter, your nails raking into his shoulders as they set the pace. He rolls his hips as Blade moves you—puppeteers you, his mouth tracking wet, open-mouthed kisses over your shoulders and up the sides of your neck. His teeth score into your yielding flesh.

“Stop—gnawing at me,” you snarl, reaching a hand back to swat him like an unruly animal. His lips find the meat of your palm, lips tenderly grazing the skin there as if in apology. He growls and inhales, again, and you marvel in fear and awe at just how stupid the chemicals in his brain have made him. Are all alphas like this, during their ruts?

Luocha says something else, but it’s all lost to the filth, to your moans and cries and other undignified noises as they further unravel you. Blade grips hard enough to bruise, his breath heavy against your skin, your ears. They work in tandem. Blade fucks you up and down on Luocha’s cock like a fleshlight, and Luocha rocks his hips into your fluttering, tight pussy in a quickly unraveling rhythm. 

And Blade—you feel his cock press hot up against your back just as dexterous fingers glide over your clit, Luocha’s touch making you thrash. Your sweat-slicked skin grinds up against Blade’s front, and he snarls. 

You come, orgasm a searing and unwieldy thing. You crash over the precipice, head tossed against Blade’s shoulder as your cunt spasms around Luocha’s cock. Milking him, shaking body trying to suck him in deep. Your entire body is one hot line of heat, pressed between them and oh fuck, Blade keeps fucking you onto Luocha’s cock. The blonde’s consistent and precise thrusts stuttering out of pace until he comes with an obscene groan. His fingers dig into your thighs as he fills you, rope after rope of his release hitting inside.

The room fades into a calm quiet. The air is dense with the smell of sex. Even through the exhaustion, the pheromones pry under your skin and keep you as hot as the bodies you’re wedged between. Blade lifts you from Luocha’s cock with pitiful ease, and the noise you let out at the separation is downright pathetic. Your mixed releases slide slick down your thighs and onto the sheets below, and your consciousness rouses just enough to feel a twinge of humiliation.

“Lovely little thing, you were even more incredible than I anticipated,” His fingers clumsily draw over your cheek, your neck, your side. Petting you, palms shaping around your breasts and stomach as you come down from the high. You all but collapse against Blade’s front, boneless. 

The moment he releases you, you topple onto the bedding next to Luocha. It’s hard to breathe. The air feels thick. You fight to regain your bearings amongst the haze, covered in sweat and cum and sore spots all over your neck and shoulders. 

Luocha coos. The pads of his fingers gently prod one such spot. 

“You didn’t have to be so rough,” Luocha hums at Blade. His touches delicately circle every point of pain, “This is your first impression in bed. You may be in rut, but you have enough self-control to not chew on your caretakers. You aren’t an animal, are you?”

“No,”

“No,” Luocha repeats, airy and fond as he pulls away. “You’re a blade. I don’t know if that’s more or less of an excuse.” He says, but he doesn’t sound frustrated. His scolding is light-handed and more amused than anything.

“Will you two quiet down?" you grouse, finally coherent enough to complain again.

“Our apologies. We really should be putting our mouths to better use,” Luocha says, rubbing your back again. You throw a hand back to try and swat him away, but he pushes you aside with frustrating ease. “As much as I would like to afford you the proper time to rest—”

He doesn’t get a word in before you’re being manhandled onto your back.

Big hands pin your hips to the mattress. Blade’s palms are hot and clammy, sweat rubbing into your exposed skin. 

“I appreciate this,” he rumbles lowly. His candlewick irises threaten to swallow you whole as he ducks close, pressing your foreheads together. Blade’s keen gaze shifts from your eyes, rolls down your face and over your throat like a soft breeze. 

You swallow, your breath stolen from you in a gasp as he turns you over yet again. He maneuvers you how he likes, front pressed right against the sheets from head to toe. His hand settles in the crook of your left knee, opening you for the hot press of his head. The slow press of him is a sweet agony. He’s too big, he’s so fucking big—your cunt struggles to accommodate him as he bullies his way inside. Short, aborted thrusts which grate against your velvet walls. Your entire body twitches, overworked nerves crying out in muted protest, but the pleasure is open and heady, your entire body made pliant by the pheromones and—oh and it’s so much easier to go prone, like this. 

Blade’s eager mouth tooths a path along your shoulder, seeking the crook of your neck with single minded hunger.

It’s a slow, heavy push aided by previous climaxes, but he’s still much too big. You weren’t meant to take anything like this, you can’t help but think. 

Luocha gives a sympathetic coo. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Is it? You try to answer, but all that comes out is a low, animal sound. Half pained but all pleasured. If Luocha filled you, Blade bursts you to the seams. Your fingers claw at the bedding as you struggle to take him, unable to stifle your voice. You’re not sure how long it takes for him to hilt. Minutes or hours. Time is lost to you, all of your focus centered on the tight space between your legs and how he swells in it. 

A wet, warbling sound wanders out of your weary throat as you feel his thighs press to the back of yours. At last complete. The grip he has around the crook of your knee tightens, his breath sputtering onto the back of your neck as he pulls out. 

The first plunge back in is no better than the initial fit. He pumps you full, over and over, pace breaking into something ravenous at the first sign of your acquiescence. You can’t think, you can hardly breathe as your velvet walls suck him in. Every thrust has his cockhead teasing your sweet spot. You try to arch your back, but you’re met by the solid wall of muscle that comprises him, flattening you to the bed, leaving you cored and flayed open for him to fuck, to fill, to stick his fingers and tongue inside. He scrapes his teeth over what feels like the marrow of you and makes your vision go hazy with tears. They roll down your cheeks, fat droplets soaking the bedding beneath you. 

Your orgasm isn’t a steady trickle but a sudden burst, white hot pleasure erupting behind your clenched eyelids. He fucks you through it. His knees dig into the mattress on either side of your body, pelvis slapping your ass with each disjointed thrust. Whatever rhythm he might have had sputters into nothingness. He mindlessly pursues his own climax, lips fitting over your shoulders. He kisses your spin. His hot tongue laps at your sweat and your bruises, almost tender. 

There’s an ask, there. A request for your forgiveness, or your acknowledgement. But you are too spent to speak. 

He cums inside of you, his release splattering your walls and dripping onto the sheets below. It’s so vulgar it almost makes you nauseous. But your toes curl and your voice pitches into a watery whine because he’s still fucking you. 

“Blade,” you find your voice, but do not recognize the ragged, ruined thing it has become. “Blade!” The pleasure has long tilted over the edge into pain. You claw at the sheets. You can’t tell if you’re trying to squirm away or arch closer, all that you know is the heat of his body and smell of sex and wetness of his cum running down your thighs. 

“Blade,” a different voice says. You completely forgot Luocha was even there. You can’t see where he is, “Remember what we talked about? Don’t knot her. She’ll break.”

“The poor thing,” he says, voice soaked in sympathy. A slender hand curls beneath your cheek, wedged between it and the pillow. Your lips press against the palm as your face is forced up. 

Luocha’s eyelids are low. His lips slightly parted, and his expression so impossibly benevolent as he observes you.

“Just a bit more,” he murmurs, thumb pressing against the swell of your bottom lip. You huff and squeal into his hand as Blade’s body tenses, readying itself for another orgasm. And as he spills within you a second time, Luocha steals the moan off your tongue with a deep, searching kiss.

—

Afternoon has shifted into late evening. The living room is cooler than the shaded bedroom. Somewhere after a third climax, you had been cleaned, a robe maneuvered onto your form by clinging, roughened hands. You’re not sure who did what. For the past hour, you think you’ve hovered dangerously close to unconsciousness, barely able to open your lips to sip on the glass of water someone held up for you. The rim was blissfully cold. You swallow the drink down with a voracity you’ve scarcely ever shown, let it soothe your sore throat and float some of the life back into you.

You’re endlessly grateful for this as you scarf down dinner. Some greasy takeout that fills your empty stomach, fried batter crunching nice between your teeth. 

Exhausted, and sore, and something related to satisfied, you finally rest your weary eyes. Your fingers find Blade’s silken strands. His face is nestled into your lap, nose pressed into the inseam of your thigh. He all but flopped atop of you after you finished eating, content to doze half-under a red blanket.

 Each breath taken is a warm puff you can feel through your robe. When did it go this far? How did it go this far? In a few hours, will he be just as voracious as he was when you walked in? You rummage through what remains of your cognizance in search of answers, but come up blank. All it amounts to is feeble frustration. Your fingers still comb through those long, luscious locks.

Footsteps pads in your direction from behind. You don’t bother to look up at Luocha until he nudges something into your hand. The stem of a wine glass is pressed into your shaking fingers.

When you look up at him, he only smiles, “For the nerves,” he says, and settles on the other sofa. “And the pain.”

You stare into the glass. The person reflected in the deep cherry looks sleepy and sated. A feeling of defeat churns in the depths of you. Your stomach sinks. You shut your eyes and let your head loll onto the back of the armchair. The plush upholstery cushions the back of your skull. The steady, building buzz of anxiety building behind your eyes amounts to a soft, yet still aching throb.

You lift the glass, and press your lips to the rim.

[simpleeindulge]

The Beast and the Mouse

Info: Fem/readerxKid, semi-slow burn, mutual yearning, cussing

Context: Kid develops a crush on a girl, and he can't deal with it.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4🔞

Part 5

Kid woke up with a raging hangover the following day. He groaned and covered his eyes with his left arm. While hangovers were the worst, they never stopped him from indulging.

And I fucking deserved it last night, he thought.

After his rendezvous with the woman in the mask, Kid returned to the bar and drank for the rest of the night. Other women tried to approach him, but he waved them off and then scared them off. He didn't see any value in taking another woman upstairs when the first one actually did her job satisfying him.

Satisfied.

Kid paused and wondered.

When was the last time he was satisfied after fucking just one woman? He breathed in slowly as his head throbbed with thinking. Never, he answered himself. Oh, he would finish, but he usually would have another woman ready, but he didn't have that need this time.

And fucking wasn't the right word, either. It was by no means love-making, but it was different.

Kid lay in bed staring at the ceiling. They were setting sail tomorrow, and the rest of the supplies needed to be gathered today. And then, there was Y/N.

Y/N.

"Fuck," he breathed and then winced.

He would deal with her later when his skull wasn't trying to crush his brain. His thoughts then drifted back to the woman in the mask and what was different about her. She was feisty for one thing, and for another, she actually participated.

The woman seemed to enjoy herself and worked to ensure her pleasure. Interesting for a woman who was supposed to be whore. They typically just did whatever would finish the job so they could move onto the next client.

And she didn't exactly acted like virgin either.

Who was she?

Kid swallowed some bile that crept up into his throat and breathed.

They were setting sail tomorrow and he needed to deal with his mouse problem once and for all.

But first, he needed a little more satisfaction.

Y/N woke up early, showered, and dressed before heading to the infirmary. She started to mix her ingredients when her first patient of the morning walked in.

"Wire," She greeted and quickly poured her concoction into a small glass.

Wire eyed her warily and said, "If this is poison, I will kill you."

Y/N didn't dignify his comment with a reply and merely pushed the glass towards him. Wire glanced at the glass for a minute before reaching for it. He tossed it back and grimaced.

"That tasted like shit."

"But you won't feel like shit for the rest of the morning," Y/N replied and started on her next batch. Wire turned to leave but paused and said, "He's thinking of kicking you off."

Y/N froze, and her head snapped up to look at Wire.

"What?"

Wire peered at her, his expression unreadable.

Y/N knew that Wire was part of Kid's inner circle and that anything Kid shared with Killer typically gets shared with Wire or Heat. Though he trained her, Y/N sensed that Wire's opinion of her was always natural, which was the expectation of that day.

"You need to think if this is where you belong, Mouse." Wire said in a dull tone. "If you have any doubts, you should leave before he kicks you off the boat in the middle of the sea. He's done that before."

Y/N swallowed as she imagined Kid throwing some poor soul off the Victora Punk in the middle of nowhere. She could see him walking away from the railing as they screamed to be let back on the ship. Kid wouldn't waste a lifeboat on someone he deemed worthless.

She wanted to ask Wire if this had to do with the stabbing incident or something else. Y/N wanted to know if there was anything she could do to change his mind or what she was doing wrong. There were more questions she wanted to ask, but Y/N knew that he wasn't the person to talk to. Neither was Heat or Killer.

"Thank you for making me aware of my situation." That was all she said before making her hangover juice for the next person to walk through the door.

Wire didn't bother sparing her a glance as he left the room. More people came into the infirmary, groaning, hands on their foreheads, and looking pale. Y/N served them all her elixir. Wire's warning tumbled in her head, slowly shaking her calm facade apart.

What was Kid's reason for kicking her off the crew?

He couldn't have found out about last night. If he had, Kid would be raging and shouting at her. It was odd timing to punish her for the knife incident now. Maybe Wire had lied to her, but she didn't think he would waste the time.

Y/n let out a frustrated sigh as she set a large pitcher of her elixir on the main counter. She needed a walk to clear her head before she snapped at someone. She set cups next to the pitcher and turned to leave when Killer walked in. Y/N paused as she looked at him with surprise.

Killer didn't seem like the type to get hangovers, and with his mask on, it was hard to tell if he was experiencing any symptoms.

"If you have a hangover, I made a big-"

"Don't need it." Killer said as he walked to the counter and poured the pitcher's contents into a cup.

Y/N realized that Killer must be taking it to Kid.

"The Captain isn't feeling well?" She asked and felt immediately stupid. Kid was a big drinker, and there were mornings when he stomped in here with a foul mood and demanded she make her elixir for him.

Killer ignored her and then turned to leave the room. Y/N knew he wasn't the person to ask and that she should be a big girl and confront Kid herself, but...

"I heard that I might be kicked off the ship." She forced herself to say.

Rarely was it possible to get a straight reaction from Killer. He was the polar opposite of Kid—calm and collected. It was not just his mask that hid his emotions and thoughts. Killer's voice and body language gave nothing away, but her comment surprised him.

He glanced at her and tilted his head in thought, then said, "It's not for me to say if it's true or not. You'll have to ask the Captain yourself."

His answer cemented in Y/N's mind that the kid was going to kick her off the crew.

“Well, shit,” She breathed as she tossed down a cleaning rag she had in her hand. One hand went to her head as the other rested on her hip.

“I guess I can't blame him, but he goated me into stabbing him,” she murmured.

“Do you want to leave?”

Y/N glanced up at Killer.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to leave?” Killer asked again, this time annunciating each word.

“Of course not!” Y/N replied, sounding offended.

“Then talked to him,” Killer replied and left the room.

Y/N groaned. Maybe Wire was right; she needed to consider her opinions while they were still on land.

Y/N was still deciding what to do hours later as she helped shop for supplies. She was browsing a stall with medicinal herbs when a woman came up next to her. Y/n was about to step aside to make room when the woman spoke in a low voice.

"He wants to see you again."

Y/N froze with confusion and quickly realized who the woman was and what she was talking about.

"Does he know?" Asked as she pretended to continue her shopping.

The woman picked up a bundle of holy basil, turning it over to inspect the leaves.

"No, he doesn't."

"What did he say?"

"That he wants to see you again. Tonight."

"For what-?"

"Don't waste time asking stupid questions! You know why!"

Y/N winced at her snappy tone. The madame of the Garden's brothel was right; that was a stupid question.

"I can't. The crew is setting sail tomorrow, and I have other problems I need to deal with."

The woman set the bundle aside and picked up another bundle of herbs Y/N recognized for its use for nerves. The woman sighed and mused, "He and his money are more trouble than they're worth. I let my pride cloud my judgment."

She set that bundle next to her holy basil. Y/N breathed to speak, but the woman cut her off. Her tone was steady at first but edged near hysteria as she noticed Y/N's hesitation and reluctance.

"You will come to The Garden tonight and see him. I will disguise you better if you insist on remaining unknown. I don't care what your problems are, but he is not a man I will risk saying no to!"

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat and pleaded.

"Can't you disguise someone else? Make them look like the girl he was with or like something?"

The woman scoffed, "If it were that simple, I wouldn't have bothered to look for you. I have my limits."

She then selected a few more bundles of herbs and paid the merchant. Y/N made her purchase as well and turned to face the madame.

"You do know that I am part of a pirate crew."

The woman smirked and said, "Yes, I know. I had you followed. Your crew is setting sail tomorrow, so I'm sure there will be one last hurrah tonight. If you are not at The Garden when he asks for you, I will tell your captain something interesting."

She then started to walk away, and men waiting at the other stalls quickly followed behind her. Y/N let out a big breath and headed in the other direction to the ship.

What she needed was a drink and a long think.

Kid was heading back to the ship. They both happened to turn the corner at the same time. They both saw each other and stopped walking.

@ella157 @bdudette @faetoraa @elen-alambil @buckysxgal @ryuv1i @ilovespicykimchi @stuckinthewrongworld @ninablue @kookydoesstuff @Kimyk10br @rivui

[popponn]

so what if you are michael kaiser's ex. like just one of many, the one that broke up with him a year ago. the catch is that despite hating this guy's guts, somehow you always ends up meeting him again at least 3 times a month. 20 times, if you are particularly unlucky that month.

your friend drags you to a party? bam, kaiser is there—with a new date. a job meeting with someone in the cafe? wow kaiser is sitting two tables away. you got lost in some big city in another country with your phone battery dying? would you look at that—it's kaiser.

and, probably the worst part, it isn't as if kaiser isn't also sick of you. he is probably your #1 hater at this point. gone was the charming bad boy from the first date and only a bitter ex is left.

the funny part is that this particular bitter ex is one that accompanies you in the party when your friend left you ("my date gets boring," he said); one that looks ready to punch a guy and helps you when your client turns out to be an asshole ("why did i help you?" he parrots your question. "if i ignored that it will just be worse for me in the way that i don't want it to be."); and the one who makes sure you reach your hotel safely ("idiots like you need pity to stay alive.")

the one that doesn't want any present he gave to you returned, but also the one who scoffs whenever you ask "Why?" or "Why the fuck?"

(if kaiser is also one that couldn't swallow his pride to ask you back, that's for everyone except you to know.)

(and if you still never date anyone after breaking up with him that's your own problem and no one else's.)

i have been itching to write ex!kaiser since like. idk. last month?? a bit tempted to also include the 'we knew each other too long to cut each other off' trope, but that's for another time. he is enough of a complicated asshole already. so it's just 'exes who still clearly have feeling for each other' + 'exes who acts like sworn enemy' with a pinch of 'everyone knows and are sick of them' trope. this dude and this idea is hilarious to me because like he is kind of a himedere in my head, but he is so interesting and not just t h a t in a very 'i want to punch him' way. but anyway very brainrot but this guy, i believe, despite his narcissistic tendencies and all his self centered issues, seems like someone who will love deeply when it came for the one™. like dude is like that with soccer, the capital c commitment is strong. it's just reaching that stage that's hard, because he is also capital a asshole.

[rveyjules]

A Second Chance

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings,  p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This is the second part of my story. This story is entirely fictional. I do not know what the President and the Prime Minister exactly do for the country. Same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue so pardon if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.

—

“The jury found the defendant guilty.” 

               Joyful sounds were heard from your client, who was the victim, and from her family. You closed your eyes and a sigh of relief escaped your mouth, smiling at your performance today. You just won another trial. The suspect is proven guilty with the evidence you have against him and the jury was on your side. 

“The jury is thanked and excused. The court is adjourned.” 

               You turned to your female client. She’s a 22-year-old who was a victim of rape and sexual assault. You promised her that you will do your best to give her the justice she was longing for after being made fun of by her schoolmates, calling her such names, giving her judgemental looks, and earning a lot of hurtful words.

        It has come to the point where she almost took her own life on the rooftop of the apartment she was staying at. Being a victim of rape is traumatizing. It would take time before you recovered completely from what happened by going under rehabilitation and psychological observation. But today, justice is served.

“Thank you so much, prosecutor!” Her mom shakes my hand repeatedly. You can’t count how many times her family expressed their gratitude for helping the child. You giggled and patted the mother’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you hired me as your lawyer. By the way, how was your rehabilitation?” You asked the last part, looking at your client. She has a smile on her face, brighter than the times we met before the trial and you just realized how pretty the child is. 

“It’s all nice and okay. Prosecutor,” She took a few steps ahead towards you and held your hand. “I don’t know how to express my feelings in court. Our opponent came from a prestigious family in the town. I am afraid that we will not win because of how powerful their family is. I think I underestimated you a little and I’m sorry for that. I see how focused you were in every trial session. And now that it was confirmed that he was the bad guy, I felt so happy. So, thank you so much, Prosecutor L/n.” 

            You smiled at her and cupped her cheeks. “You’re a law student, right? I want to give you some advice that can help you when you become an attorney one day,” I paused. “I considered going into law. Not because of money, but for the thrill of problem-solving. And always remember, be an independent woman. You are what you are. Face them with your head high. Justice is served and the suspect is proven guilty.” 

            The girl nodded and gave you a tight hug. “I hope we will meet again in the future, attorney.” You nodded your head and hugged her back. “I’m looking forward to it, dear.” 

           From a distance, Leon watched how you comforted a girl after winning a nerve-wracking and intense trial in the court just now. He crossed his arms and smiled, seeing you being warm around your client. Leon received a voicemail from his earpiece, 

“Agent Kennedy, the Prime Minister, scheduled a meeting with Prosecutor L/n.” 

“Copy,” He replied before approaching you. 

               The mother of your client acknowledged his presence as Leon made his way toward you. The older woman smiled at him before looking back at you and asked something unexpected…

“Is he your husband? You two look great together.”  

                 Your eyes widened and immediately denied it. “No, we’re not. He’s not my husband. I’m still single.” You awkwardly replied. Leon was taken aback by the woman’s question and quite affected when you quickly denied the woman’s question. He felt butterflies in his stomach at the thought of you being his wife. 

“Sorry for misunderstanding but he’s only my bodyguard. He’s only with me for safety purposes.” You explain, smiling to ease the uncomfortable feeling you have. The woman nodded in understanding.  

“You’re too pretty to not be in a relationship but I respect your decision if you’re not into relationships.” She smiled and you thanked her for understanding. When your client and her family have left, you turn to Leon and shoot him a death glare. 

“Seriously? You as my husband? Hell, no.” You sharply claimed. Leon cleared his throat and replied, “I just want to say that the Prime Minister scheduled a meeting with you.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“When you received a voicemail, I received a text message from the Prime Minister.  At least you should have waited for my client to leave before popping out of nowhere only to be misunderstood as my husband.” You snarled. Leon finds you cute, though. 

“Bet you feel the butterflies in your stomach, don’t you?” He asked flirtatiously, making you scoff. 

“Butterflies,” You scoffed and chuckled sarcastically. “I got headaches.” With that, you walked past him to the exit. 

—

“Papa, you know I don’t want to be in a relationship. How many times do I need to tell you that? I don’t even want to go on a date, why are they trying to put me up in an arranged marriage?!” You snapped, rubbing your temples. 

            The meeting your father scheduled is private and personal. Right now, in front of your parents and the Senator’s son that was supposed to be your husband in this arranged marriage, looked at you in disbelief. You declared your plan in life and that is you’re not going to get married to anyone. 

“Y/n!” Your father yelled angrily. “For our family’s sake! Senator Carter’s son is the right man for you! You know that this man has the potential to become a President in the future! I want you to become the First Lady of this country.” 

“But being a First Lady has limitations, Papa! And also, it will only give me more responsibilities!” You retorted back. 

“You’re already thirty-three, Y/n. A perfect age to prepare yourself—” 

“I am not interested in becoming a First Lady,” You interrupted. "Besides, I am not into politicians. Helping the government is enough for me but marrying a politician? No." 

          With that, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room, leaving your parents disappointed and frustrated. You can hear your dad calling out your name but you did not turn back. Tears filled your eyes, and you couldn't bear the fact that your parents are forcing you to marry someone you don't love. 

           Leon noticed your expression and he knew something was wrong. "Y/n, what happened in–" He was interrupted when you snapped at him, “Shut up! This is all your fault!” 

        He was startled and the guards that were securing the area looked in your direction. Tears started falling down your eyes, and couldn't bear the pain. “This is all your fault.” You whispered before storming out of the establishment. 

            You get the keys from your driver and ride the car before driving on your own. You sobbed as you sped up on the highway but were still aware of the speed limit. You want some time alone. Betrayals, family pressure, arranged marriage… Goddamned it, why can’t you be free from this? The trauma of your past relationship with Leon did a lot of damage. You run your hand on top of your head, calming yourself down.  

—

            In your house, you are checking the report of the CIA. There are files that must go under your consent so you have a lot of papers to sign. It’s not new for you anymore. Being a prosecutor, a superior of a top security agency, as well as being a politician’s daughter has its pros and cons. When it comes to wealth and fame, you got the jackpot. But when it comes to responsibility…

“Goddamn, I need a vacation.” You sighed as you signed the last file and put them organized on the shelf. 

           And then, Leon popped into your mind out of nowhere. He has been working under you for three months now. You are secretly doing everything to make him leave. You mean it when you say you don’t need him anymore. But there are times where Leon would be so caring of you. He’d hold your hand secretly when the two of you are close to each other in crowded places. He’d take off his jacket and put it on your shoulders when he saw you shivering. Although you are cold and dismissive to him, he’s still caring for you and his love language was still the same as before. 

           Turning your heel, you went to the window and watched the city lights of Washington D.C. You want to take a break. You want to sleep all day,knowing that you deserved it for doing a great job. But you simply can’t. Even falling asleep in your room is sometimes difficult, especially when you feel something is not right. The President needs you to be active 24/7. The White House could call you anytime when an emergency occurs. Even if it was two in the morning, you need to get up and meet the President and cabinet secretaries. 

           You are so powerful that’s why there are people who tried to kill you. Imagine, surviving five assassination attempts. You may be looking cool but deep inside you are scared. Those moments where you were stunned when the assassin pulled the trigger of his gun and you barely dodge them. It makes you feel like a child, being scared when you are supposed to be brave. 

           Taking off your gloves, you looked at your scars and caressed them. You thought the pain was gone, thinking that your scars symbolizes your bravery despite being left out. But everythings is coming back ever since Leon came back. With that you remembered how you struggled just to survive.  

         Three days after Leon left with Ada, you almost lost your sanity thinking that surviving the apocalypse is impossible. You have no one to lean on. You barely make it to find an abandoned store with foods and drinks that can ease your thirst and hunger. The city was filled with zombies. Finding a safe place to stay is difficult. The device you used to track Ada’s identity was broken. It was your only hope to contact your father. 

         Every day, you’d cry while washing your wounds on your wrists to prevent contamination and easier access for infection. Being alone and desperate to survive scared you the most. You are asking yourself what you ever did to them to leave you in this state. As for your relationship with Leon, thinking about those times when you caught him with Ada, doing the unthinkable emotionally damaged you. 

“Leon– ahh!” Ada moaned as Leon pressed his half naked body to her, sucking her neck and leaving marks on her skin. “Y/n would get suspicious where did I get this,” Ada said but Leon didn’t budge. 

            Instead, he lifted the skirt of her dress and pulled her underwear out of her legs before undoing his pants and taking his member out of its cage. “Just be quiet. She wouldn’t know that we’re doing this.” He smirked before slipping his hardened cock into Ada’s aching hole. 

           They tried to be quiet to hide their secret affair while you were standing by the door, sobbing quietly. You heard how Ada moaned and praised Leon at how good he makes her feel. And then there was you, heart shattered into pieces. You felt numb and couldn’t feel or hear anything aside from the sinful sounds coming from them. 

           That piece of memory made you punch the mirror in front of you, breaking it. Your knuckles started to bleed. You covered your ears as you fell on your knees, traumatized and heartbroken. You knew that things would go wrong between you and Leon. But this is beyond your expectation. Never in your life you thought that he would do that.

          One day, you found a radio in the establishment where you are currently staying. It was functioning and you heard voices coming from the radio. You realized that it can connect to a military base. You grabbed it and spoke to the speaker. It says that the government will bomb the city to stop the virus from spreading. Hearing this increased your fear. You don’t want to die with these monsters.

“Is this the military? Please, help me. I’m a survivor.” You said, hoping that they will hear your voice. 

        After a few seconds of silence, the voice on the other line spoke. “This is Commander Valdez speaking. Please, state your name and current location.” Your hope was growing as the commander replied. 

“My name is Y/n L/n, daughter of Senator L/n. I’m a first year college student, studying Law. I am in a safe room of the high-rise hospital in Raccoon City. Please, help me. Zombies are surrounding the area.” You sobbed. 

         Hearing that you are the daughter of the Senate President caused the Commander to order to gather up his men and prepare to rescue you and also ordered the President to refrain from releasing an order to wipe out Raccoon City until you are completely rescued. 

“Miss L/n, listen carefully to my instructions. My men will be there in less than an hour. Now, I want you to prepare yourself to fight against the horde of zombies. The President has moved the time of releasing the bomb. They will nuke the city after we rescue you. I know you have limited resources to use as your weapon but I hope you can find some to defend yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The military is on its way. Go to the rooftop of the hospital. The military chopper will come to rescue you. Goodluck.” Then your conversation ended. 

             This is your last chance. You must make it out of this damned city. You went to the bathroom of the safe room and looked at yourself through the mirror. You washed your face to make up your mind and covered your injuries with a clean cloth. You wear your jacket and luckily found a baseball bat as your weapon. With a deep breath, you gathered all your strength and prepared yourself for a life-or-death fight against those monsters. 

            You walked out of the safe room quietly to prevent attracting the attention of the zombies. You held your weapon tightly, alert for any zombies to come to your way. You are currently on the 20th floor of the hospital. The rooftop is on the 25th floor. Of course, as you expected, zombies found you and chased after you. You run for your life, hitting those zombies who will try to grab you or block your path with a baseball bat. 

            Anger was rushing through your veins that you went on a killing spree with a single weapon. You looked out the window as you ran and found the helicopter coming to the hospital you are in. This increased your hopes in survival. Little by little, you made it to the rooftop. You closed and blocked the door with anything that you think can prevent those zombies opening the door. 

          The helicopter has found you from a far distance. You waved your hands in the air as you jumped to gain their attention. But the zombies managed to break in and it found you. You turned around and fear creeped out to your veins. A large horde of zombies are coming towards you. Then, you heard loud gunshots coming from the soldiers, shooting the zombies as the helicopter moved downwards on the edge of the rooftop.

“Miss Y/n! Hop on!” A soldier yelled through the loud sound of the propeller. 

                You ran towards them and jumped to the helicopter, feeling a little relieved to be rescued. The helicopter started to move away as the zombies were falling down from the building, mindlessly trying to reach for us. The soldiers check on you to see if you are bitten. The pilot spoke through the radio. 

“General, Y/n L/n is successfully rescued from the Raccoon City. She’s not bitten or infected, just some injuries that need medical attention. Aside from that, everything is cleared.” 

“Roger that,” You heard the military general replied through the radio. 

               After a few moments, when you are far enough from the city, you hear a loud, roaring, and huge explosion. You looked out and saw an atomic bomb explosion, destroying Raccoon City. You saw how wide the bomb reached to kill those who were alive or undead. You survived the chaos on your own. You make it out of the forsaken city. You are the last man standing. The city where Leon promised you that you build your dreams and goals has been wiped out into ashes.

            A sigh escapes your mouth as you caress your scars. For everyone who barely knows you, wearing gloves is your trademark in fashion. People never see you take them off or go out without gloves on. But your family and other important people in your life know what’s behind that piece of clothing. It’s not like you were ashamed of it. It’s just that it hurts you emotionally as you remembered that you went under hard and difficult circumstances just to survive as those people you helped betrayed and left you to die. 

            Your phone opened and rang, snapping you back to your senses. You turned around and grabbed your phone. It’s a call from your older brother, Judge Dylan L/n. You picked up the call and put the phone next to your ear. 

“Dylan? What can I do for you?” You asked. 

“Y/n, Papa called me just now. What was that behavior?” He asked calmly but there’s a lingering strict tone. 

“If you’ll scold me, I’ll hang up.” You scoffed. 

“Y/n, you are the only daughter of the Prime Minister of the country and has the potential to become a First Lady.”

“I know that. Among the Prime Minister’s five children, I am the youngest and the only daughter. But that doesn’t mean that I need to go under his order to marry a politician.”

“But the boy is the son of the Senate President.”

“Dylan, please. Don’t make yourself a problem for me. He didn’t even congratulate me for winning my case today. He just called a private meeting only to say that I am bound to marry the man and ended up scolding.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Y/n,” Dylan paused. “I know that your past relationship still affects you. But in this case, you are just proving to them that you haven’t moved on from your ex-lover. Y/n, it’s been fifteen years…” 

             You sighed, heading over the table to pour yourself a glass of wine. 

“Please, believe me when I say that I truly moved on from my past relationship. It’s just that…” You paused, trying to find the right word to say. “The pain was coming back. You know that feeling when you believe in yourself that you are completely free but the truth is you are still chained up to the past?”

“Did you and that guy cross paths again?” He asked and you hummed. 

“I don’t know if fate is fooling around with me. After fifteen years, why did he come back? I mean, I don’t want to see him or even cross paths again with him but then, one day he just appeared out of nowhere.” You explained. Your brother chuckled at your response. 

“I think I know the guy you are talking about. Leon Kennedy, right? Your ex-lover but currently your bodyguard.” You pouted as his response. “If Papa knows that Leon Kennedy is your ex, what do you think he will do?” He asked.

“He will fire him immediately, probably.” You replied. 

“Wrong,” Dylan quickly responded. “You and Papa never interact with each other that much, that's why you don’t know the possibility of his reaction regarding the issue.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

“Y/n, please. If you interact with Papa, you will find the answer. That’s all for now. I have to prepare for my trial tomorrow. I just called to check on you.” 

           You bid goodbye to each other before ending the call. You received another phone call from the Senate President’s son. You picked the call…

“Let’s have a drink. The usual place.” He said.

—

        Leon can still hear how loud you were when you snapped at him earlier. He can tell that your meeting with your family did not end well. The way your eyes teared up when you yelled at him, gaining the attention of the people who were in the area at that time. Leon gulped down another glass of whiskey, slightly wincing at how strong the alcohol is as he ran his thumb against your photo, which he secretly took throughout the years. 

         Yes, he has been stalking you. After saving Ashley Graham from an insane cult in Spain, he immediately did some research on you. And there he found out about your success after leaving you in a hard situation in Raccoon City in 1998. At that time, you were a newly licensed prosecutor but you became one of the most influential prosecutors in the Supreme Court as you easily solved and won cases back then. Your father was a Senate President back then and having you beside him is a big asset. With that, your father managed to reach the position of Prime Minister. 

          Every event you need to attend whether it was a national or international, he was there. He camouflaged within the crowd so that you wouldn’t see him or feel his presence. He took a lot of pictures of you, keeping them in a secret room of his house. He was obsessed with you. He even finds himself masturbating in his room with your picture in his hand, looking so elegant in every angle, every outfit you wore, every look you pulled out, it drives him crazy. 

           For his latest mission, which was in China, he brought a dozen of your pictures as his motivation and inspiration. Weird but he did. There are times when he was in a tight situation and went through near-death experiences but he remembers that he needs to come back. For you. He encountered Ada again but this time, he was not her puppy anymore, who would follow her demands and manipulate him. 

“I heard that she’s the new Chief of the CIA aside from being a prosecutor. Seems like your ex-lover has already moved on from you.” Ada smirked as she looked at the photo of you in a black dress, holding a piece of paper while speaking in court. 

“Give it back,” Leon demanded. “What are you even doing here, Ada? Are you going to use me again?” He added and Ada chuckled in response. “What do you think?” 

             What Ada did not expect was Leon’s sudden attack. He disarmed her and took the photo out of her grasp, hissing when it was crumpled slightly. Ada noticed his unusual behavior and smirked. 

“You’re obsessed with her. What is she going to think when you two meet again? What will be her reaction if she meets the one she loved the most but also the one who betrayed her?” Ada asked, trying to provoke Leon.

           Leon got furious when Ada dug up the past. Without hesitation, he pulled out his gun and shot Ada in the shoulder with eyes full of anger and guilt, not for her but for you, who he left just to escape that damn city. The woman looked at him in shock. Never in a million years did she expect that Leon would do this to her. He was different from the one she used to order around. There were also times when Leon almost got down on his knees and worshiped her like a saint. But now, his eyes are filled with the flame of anger. Leon wasn’t hers anymore, but yours even without knowing it. 

         Five months after that mission, he was summoned to the White House by the President and they talked about the assassination attempts you had. His face remained calm but his hands were clenched into fists and his insides were burning in anger. When the President asked him if he could be your bodyguard, he immediately said yes. Your father, the Prime Minister trusted him the moment the President introduced him as a recommendation. That’s how he got into your life again. 

            He prepared a plan on how he was going to win your heart again. He thought it would be easy but it turns out it isn’t. You are colder than he expected. You never look at him the way you used to look at him before. It wasn’t easy to make a conversation with you as you always dismissed him. His top priority is to keep you safe away from assassination attempts you might encounter again in the future while finding a way to see a crack in your armor. 

           He believes that you will give in to him someday. He laid down on his bed, closing his eyes, and imagine how good it feels to be between your legs as he fucks you hard. The way you’d moan loudly or even scream, praising him for making you feel so good. You’d hold onto his shoulders as he pounds against your cunt, tip kissing your cervix that sends you crying. 

          His mind was filled with lewd images of you, wearing tight blouses and pencil skirts, teasing him as you walked. Your curves are perfectly fitted into the skirt and he will pounce on you and rip all of your clothing until you are completely naked under him. You and Leon never made it to take your relationship to the next level because you were just eighteen and in your first year in college back then. You two agreed that you’ll only do it when you are ready or wait until you get married. Although your relationship was a secret, you both gave pure love to each other until shit happens. 

            He believes that your virginity hasn’t been taken yet. For someone like you who focuses on studies and two professions as well as having trust issues, he’s sure that no one hasn’t touched or even kissed you. And the thought of taking your virginity sends him to the edge as he found himself masturbating. 

“Y/n… you feel so damn good. So tight!” He moaned, imagining how tight you are when he pushed his pulsating cock inside your wet, aching, virgin pussy. 

              Your moans ring into his ears as he fucks you. The way you’d ask him to be gentle or be careful of you, sobbing. And the best part of it is when he spilled his warm seeds deep into your cunt. In real life, his cock spurted his juices, staining his hands and abdomen as he trembled from his orgasm, groaning as he let it out until the last drop. 

             No, he did not feel guilty. Why not? He’s going to take you back. Now that he heard from his co-worker that you are bound to marry the Senate President’s son. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. Not even over his dead body. If he needs to go through hell just to win your heart again, he will do it without any hesitation. 

—

         On the other side, you are back in the VIP Room of the bar where you usually go. You are currently with the Senate President’s son. There’s an awkward tension between the two of you. David Carter is sipping on his glass of vodka while you are drinking wine. 

“Your outburst earlier is unexpected,” He chuckled, studying your expression. You glanced at him as he started the conversation. “A lot of women tried to catch my attention but then there was you.” 

“Is that a compliment?” You asked, sipping on your wine and he nodded with a hum in response. 

             David might be quiet and did not have a chance to explain himself during your meeting yesterday but he is one of the most respected and most influential men in politics just like you. He’s a congressman with the potential to reach the highest rank in the country. That’s why your father wants him to be your husband. 

“Yes. I rarely compliment a woman. You know I have a high standard when it comes to women and you passed.” 

“Because this is me.”  You rebutted, rolling your eyes, and smirked. 

              You two are good friends. You went to the same law school and passed the board exams together. When you were elected as the new Chief of the CIA, he was elected as a congressman. Coincidence? He would say no but you would say yes. David understands why you suddenly snapped at your father upon mentioning the arranged marriage. He knows that you have a trauma in love although he doesn’t know who caused you that pain to be so dismissive of love. But deep down, he wished that you would realize that he has hidden feelings towards you. 

“I noticed that you are not with your personal bodyguard today. Leon Kennedy, right?” He asked, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes again. 

“I don’t know. I don’t care though. That guy needs to breathe from my dark presence.” You joked. 

“I’m surprised that he’s not resigning yet when you are so cold and dismissive to him. In my perspective, men who manage to stay despite your bad side are the ones who have true feelings for you.” You paused and glanced at him. 

“I feel this agent knows you better than I know you. For the past three months of him being your bodyguard, I have never seen someone who's more patient than your father. I noticed that you throw your tantrums on him often but he will only look at you and give you your favorite coffee. Your former bodyguards never bring you your coffee without you telling them which one you prefer. But this agent, he will just pop out of nowhere with a cup of coffee you like. Is there something I don’t know about? Do you have connections with each other?” He added. 

“Oh, David. Stop the spectacle of yourself. Agent Kennedy is nothing but only an agent who saved Ashley from Spain and is currently my bodyguard.” You retorted. 

“But a bodyguard wouldn’t act so protective and caring of you. I mean, he’s crossing the line of being a bodyguard and you don’t notice. He’d protect you from the media, people who will tend to cause you discomfort, and bodyguards should keep an eye on his distance to his boss. But he will take off his jacket and put it on your shoulder like a man who cares for his lover.” 

“Enough!” You snarled. 

“You’re guilty because it’s true. A bodyguard shouldn’t look at his boss with stars in his eyes.” David added. 

              What's surprising about him, even though he has secret feelings towards you, it feels like he’s helping you regarding your issue with Leon which you never mentioned to anyone before. 

“Admit it already, Y/n.  You and Agent Kennedy had a thing before.” 

                   You looked at him, speechless. David is a very observant person but he takes that to another level that's beyond your expectations. He raised his eyebrow at you while you shook your head in defeat. 

“You’re right. We used to be lovers.” You admitted. 

—

             Leon was in his apartment across the apartment building you are in. He purchased the unit to keep an eye on you a few years ago. He knows that this is the place where you usually go to ease your mind rather than going to your own home. He brought his own telescope, not to look up in the sky but to stalk you. With his knowledge in hacking, he used to sneak into your apartment unit and set up small cameras that are difficult to see around your place to see what you are doing when you are out of his sight. 

            You just came back from your hang out with David. You are quite tipsy and tired after a long day. Leon watched you from his computer, your every movement is being captured by the  hidden cameras he put around your apartment. You kicked off your heels and put them on the shoe rack before heading straight to your bedroom to have a nice and cool shower. Undressing yourself, Leon watched your naked figure step into the shower. The sound of water running as you hummed a song sent shivers down to his spine. 

            He watched how you touch yourself as you scrub yourself with soap and wash your hair with shampoos. The way the water ran down your body is something he can’t ignore, but craves. Those perfect large breasts, slim waist, and thick thighs, ugh. He badly wants to go there and fuck you already. 

            After thirty minutes of shower and skincare routine, you came out of your bathroom, wearing nothing but your robe and drying your hair with a towel. Leon continued watching you. He observed you as he realized that you were looking out the window, staring at the apartment building where he was currently in. He looked out too and there he found you standing, seemed to be in a deep thought. He studied your face and he believes that you’re unable to see him because his window is tinted. 

         But for you, you can definitely see him. Since Leon has become your bodyguard, you were even more observant of your surroundings. You've always had a feeling that someone is watching from the shadows and the moment you meet him again, your questions have been answered. Earlier, you and David had discussed this without mentioning Leon’s name. 

“You know, obsessive people are usually more on body language, eye contacts, and sometimes, they use metaphorical words. They are waiting for the right time to have their way to their target. I suggest you give this man a little show. I believe you can do this easily. For a seductress like you, I think this is an easy task.” David smirks as he sips on his whiskey.

“What kind of ‘show’ are you talking about?” You asked. 

“A strip show…” 

            You glared at him at the idea he suggested. “But be careful. Don’t let your bodyguard know about this show you are about to pull out or else you’ll receive a severe punishment from your daddy.” He chuckled. 

            He doesn’t know that the obsessive man you are talking about was no one but your bodyguard himself… 

           Sighing, you untie your robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing your perfect naked body. Leon gasped as his eyes widened in surprise about your sudden, unexpected move. You looked like a Greek Goddess that came down on Earth to seduce men and fulfill their lustful needs. You smirked before getting inside, slowly walking, naked. You grabbed your phone and played soothing, yet seductive music. 

             You started dancing and closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm and the melody of the music. Your hair dances in the air as you turn gracefully. Leon watches you, smiling to himself. Seeing you dance like that felt like nostalgia but way different from before. You changed from a sweet teenager into a seductress. Leon smirked, crossing his arms. 

             After a few minutes, you stopped dancing and went to your closet and wore a silk nightgown, gloves, and a coat. You put on your sandals, dried your hair, and put on a light shade of lipstick. You left your apartment, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened. You just gave him a little strip show, unsure if you did it on purpose or was that just some naughty habits he had never seen until now. While Leon heaves out an unsatisfied sigh, you went to the apartment building across yours to confront him already. 

              David is right. He crossed the line of being a bodyguard. Though he is affectionate to you when the two of you are together, you did not expect him to be this obsessive of you. 

“...or just give in to his needs already if you find yourself attracted to the man. Confront him.”

                You remember David gave you another advice earlier before going home. You also thought about this while taking a shower. You are aware that there’s a hidden camera around your house. Yet, you don’t feel creeped out at all as if you know who’s responsible for this. All the dots are connected and the mystery is solved the moment Leon came back and got hired as your bodyguard. The spark you felt towards this obsessive person sparked even more when it comes to Leon. It’s always him. Every question you make about this emotional stuff always leads back to him. 

             The ding of the elevator snapped you back to your senses as the doors opened. You stepped out of the elevator and went to Leon’s apartment unit, Unit 2704. You pressed the doorbell and waited for Leon to open the door. 

            He went to the front door and looked at the peephole. He was surprised to see you standing on his doorstep. He opened the door, you looked at him and he was surprised to see you. 

“I need to talk to you,” You started in a stern tone.

—

To Be Continued...

[holylulusworld]

SHG for killers (1) - The first meeting

Summary: 6 men meet up to talk about their problems. They soon realize they need someone to help them solve their problems. This person is you. Whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Steve Kemp x fem!Reader, Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader, Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x fem!Reader, God, the bounty hunter x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder/killing for money, serial killers/hitmen, mentions of blood/gore, talk about crimes, self-help group for killers/hitmen, world building, we get to know the men first

Self-help group for killers masterlist

“IT STINGS!” His screams of pain and agony echo in Lloyd Hansen’s mind when he wakes from another restless slumber.

He’s a stone-cold mercenary. Merciless and fearless. Or he was. That was until a certain former CIA lapdog pissed onto everything Lloyd stands for. It doesn’t help that he lost two fingers while hunting Six down.

“Bastard,” he curses under his breath as his eyes focus on his hand mutilation. “Still miss my pussy fingers,” Lloyd grumbles angrily. “Wait until I find you, Sierra Six. You’re a dead man; you just don’t know it yet.”

He closes his eyes, replaying the scene again. Lloyd grits his teeth, remembering how he got into a grapple with Six, who blew off Lloyd's left pinkie and ring finger.

The finger prosthetics don’t make him feel better. Sierra’s win over him, the loss of his fingers and reputation, still stings. His self-confidence and ego were not only bruised but torn in two.

For months, he fails mission after mission. His team is long gone, and so is his patience. Lloyd is angry and out for blood. Preferable Sierra Six’s blood.

He tried anything to find the renegade assassin. So far, he didn’t even find a trace. Sierra Six is a master at hiding from his enemies. Lloyd gives him that.

“One day, you’ll pay for what you did.”

“No drugs. No contact with other offenders. No missing an appointment,” Ransom’s probation officer recites all the rules he must follow. “Mr. Drysdale, did you even listen?”

“All of you are telling me the same thing.” Ransom sneers. “You’re the fifth guy in not four months. I know the rules.” He leans back in the uncomfortable and cheap chair the probation officer offered him. “All of you try to get me behind bars again; I get it. You’re pissed because I got earlier than everyone expected.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” the probation officer replies, watching Ransom munch another cookie. “I really don’t have the time to make plans to get you behind bars again. That’s not in my job description. If you don’t have any problems, we can end the meeting for today.”

“Shit, just a sec.” Robert doesn’t have the time to talk to his ex today. “Listen, you got the money and the car. Let’s part on good terms.” He’s poorly hiding his anger. If she says one more word, he’ll sneak into her new apartment and kill her and the bastard who’s banging her brains out now. “I got a job to do.”

Robert hangs up the phone. He’s not done with the body yet. The client wants proof that her husband is dead. She’s a naughty one, Robert thinks to himself while getting the saw out. Well, all for customer satisfaction.

The doctor is not happy. He tried anything to make sure his business was flowing. Sadly, some people try to stop him from being successful.

“You had to cross me, didn’t you?" He looks down at his former partner and sneers. “We could’ve made so much money. But you had to find your conscience.”

Steve kicks the dead man, grunting as he’s bleeding on the brand-new carpet at his office. Killing his partner wasn’t in his plans for today. It’s not the first time he got his hand dirty.

If Steve were honest, he’d admit that he likes to get his hands dirty. As a doctor, he should save other people’s lives, not take them. Still, he can’t help but feel excited about his latest decision.

Watching the family grieve over the death of their recently killed father and husband, God furrows his brows. He never understood human emotions. The man he killed was a tyrant. He betrayed his business partners, terrorized his family, and cheated on his wife.

The man remains in his hideout to watch the family and friends mourn their loss. Lately, he likes to stick around to watch their reaction. Some scream. Others silently cry.

God likes the ones who put on a show for others the most. He did so all his life. Pretending in public that he’s a normal guy.

The truth is, he feels hollow because he never belonged...

Andy Barber steps out of the courtroom with his head held high. He won another case and can’t help but smirk as his opponent seems to be salty.

“Barber,” the prosecutor says, venom in his voice. “Congratulations on letting another monster go free.”

“If you wanted them in jail,” Andy says, and he dips his head to watch his client smirk at the victims of his cruelty, “you should’ve been a better lawyer.”

Andy walks toward his client, a spring in his step to shake the monster’s hand. He smirks and assures the man he deserves to walk out of the courtroom as a free man. Andy squeezes the man’s hand hard, making him wince. Who would’ve thought a lawyer could be so strong?

The serial rapist ends up dead after the accused was acquitted for lack of evidence. Lloyd recites the newspaper. “I see you’ve been very active lately, Barber. Do I need to remind you to keep it low?”

“No one asked you,” Andy shoots back. He doesn’t know why he’s still coming to the so-called self-help group. Andy doesn’t feel guilty for killing his clients. Who else would punish them for their crimes? “They had a choice, Hansen. It wasn’t me letting him go.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ransom says between munching a cookie and sipping on the expensive mochaccino he bought on his way to the group. “Baber got a point there.”

“Who asked you, amateur?” Robert sneers. He just can’t stand Barber or Drysdale. They are not worth his time, or so he thinks. He’s fine with Hansen and the guy calling himself God. They are like him—professionals. “I don’t even know why you, Mr. Lawyer, are here.”

“I invited them,” Hansen grunts. “If you want to leave, you can go anytime. I founded this group, not you.”

“Man, stop making a fuss!” Pronge shows his palms. “I only wanted to point out that they are not professionals. What if the cops find out about their hobby? What if they decide to get a deal and rat us out?”

Lloyd snorts. He looks at the black leather glove hiding his prosthetic fingers. “No one rats Lloyd Hansen out. We all agreed on complete secrecy. What we discuss here stays within this room.”

Andy rubs his bearded chin. Coming to the group to talk about the crimes he committed helped him improve. Lloyd and God even gave him advice on how to make his crimes look like accidents. “I’m going to therapy now,” he admits. “Not to talk about my hobby, though.”

“Therapy, huh?” Lloyd taunts, while Ransom smirks. God and Robert busy themselves with checking their phones for new clients. “I hope you’re not talking about our little group with the doctor.”

Steve sneers. “Don’t call these incompetent wannabes doctors. They are by all means nothing but pathetic losers trying to tell you how to live your life.”

“No one asked you, Dr. Frankenstein,” Ransom snaps at Steve. “Did you work on some nice asses and tits lately?”

“Shut up,” Steve jumps up, knocking his chair over. “At least I got a job, and I don’t live off my family’s money.”

“Shut up yourself!” Ransom puts his cookies aside and throws the rest of his mochaccino at Steve.

“Gentlemen!” Lloyd yells at Steve and Ransom. “We come here to talk about our problems and help each other improve. I didn’t come here, freezing my ass off on the way to watch you fight like girls over the latest fashion trend.”

“The therapy helps me more than coming here,” Andy raises his voice. “Your advice was good, but I think I’ll stick to her.”

The men stop fighting and stare at Andy.

“Her?” Lloyd licks his lips. “You’ve got a pretty little doctor for your therapist? Why didn’t you tell us before? We would’ve been all ears.”

“Why does this make a difference?” Andy cocks a brow. “She’s got a good reputation and listens to me. I talked to her for months, and she never pressured me into talking about my family.”

“Boohoo, your wife killed your murderous son and is as dead as your latest victim,” Lloyd mocks Andy. “Let’s talk about that pretty ass you’re seeing. Show us her reputation and shit.”

“Why?” Andy sighs deeply. He knew it was a mistake to talk about you and your sessions.

“For science,” Lloyd grins and snatches the phone out of Andy’s hand. Before Andy can protest, Lloyd throws the phone at God, nodding at him. “Unlock it, and look for the doc.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t come here to talk about some therapist. “Can we go back to business? Barber has a therapist. Maybe he even bangs her. Who cares?”

“Bangs her?” That picked Lloyd’s interest. “Not the worst idea. Maybe as a new version of therapy. Fuck all the bad memories out of her sweet cunt.”

“Got it,” God says and throws the phone at Lloyd. Y/N Y/L/N,” he recites your address and contact information. “She looks cute.”

“Cute?” Ransom laughs. “I didn’t know the word cute in your vocabulary. Show me.” Ransom walks toward Lloyd to look at the phone in his hands. “Not bad. Hey Barber, does she have a cute ass too?”

“Why are we talking about some woman? If our meeting is over, I’ll go back to business,” Steve says as he gets up. He wants to walk past Lloyd but glances at the phone. “Hmm…I’ve seen her before.”

Steve snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands. He looks at the pictures of you, licking his lips.

“Stop stalking my therapist,” Andy angrily says. “Can I get my phone back now?”

“I remember now,” Steve exclaims while staring at your pictures. “She accompanied one of her patients. They wanted surgery, but she talked them out of it. I hated her.” He shrugs.

“I bet she’s an uptight little doctor,” Lloyd muses. His smirk darkens as he looks at the men he brought together around two years ago. “Barber, did you already have a taste? I bet she tastes like strawberries.”

“Hansen, that is enough,” Andy grumbles. He snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands and turns to leave. “This was a waste of time!”

“Not to me.” Lloyd clenches and unclenches his fists. “I think I found something that will help us improve as a group. You all came here to talk about your problems and to get better at what you’re doing. I think this sweet doctor will be a big help.

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[cameronspecial]

Assisting In Deception (Part 1)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: People saying bad stuff about Rafe.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K 

Summary: A wedding and rumours lead Y/N and Rafe in need of a partner.

Masterlist

The sound of the keyboard as Rafe types is the only thing that can be heard when Y/N enters the room. She places his coffee in front of him and opens the planner she designated for work as she sits on a chair facing his desk. “You have appointments at eleven, two, and five for today. I’ve booked your haircut at three tomorrow and your dad called saying he wants you to call him when you get off of work. Is there anything else you need me to do, right now?” she questions, leaving a checkmark beside each reminder she informed him about. Rafe takes a second to look up from his computer, “No, assuming you put all of that in my digital calendar with more information. That’s all, thank you.” He returns to work and Y/N retreats back to her desk outside of his office. 

Rafe Cameron is a cold and distant boss. He is polite, but he never smiles. Everyone in the office is scared of him, except for Y/N. Her kind and warm personality makes him not as stern with her, but it doesn’t mean she has the privilege of getting past his hard exterior. No one knows anything about him. However, this doesn’t stop her from developing a tiny crush on her boss. She knows it is a cliche, but she recognizes it is probably only because he is handsome and polite. Even if it was based on real emotions, she would never try to develop a romantic relationship with him. She doesn’t believe in love anyway. 

Y/N is taking calls for him when he leaves his office. “I’m going for lunch,” he informs her and she gives him a nod to signal she heard him. He is watching her as he waits for the elevator. “I’m not sure if Mr. Cameron can fit you in today. He already has meetings up until six today. No, he normally doesn’t go to meetings after that time, Mr. Rosa,” Y/N begins, but upon hearing the name, Rafe flashes seven fingers to her. “Actually, I just checked with Mr. Cameron and he is fine with the meeting beginning at seven. Is that okay for you? Great. Have a good day, Mr. Rosa. Thank you.” Y/N goes to get her lunch but is immediately stopped by another call coming through. Rafe observes from the elevator that she takes the call and doesn’t go to lunch. 

——

When Rafe returns from lunch, Y/N is still on a phone call with the same client as when Rafe left. He takes note of that and reminds himself to have a chat with the client about holding up the phone line around lunchtime. She watches as Rafe approaches the desk and gives her attention to him, waiting for him to tell her what he needs. Instead, he places a paper bag on her desk and takes the phone from her. “Hello, Mrs. Matthews. Ms. Y/L/N has been very polite by letting you take up her lunch hour, but right now, I’m letting her go on lunch, so you can call back tomorrow. Thank you, goodbye,” he hangs up the phone and sets it to voicemail, then turns his attention towards Y/N. “I’ve bought you lunch, please, eat it. Take an hour and don’t call back Mrs. Matthews until tomorrow. I know you feel bad, but she never has anything important for me. And next time, just tell the client that you have lunch. If they have problems, then direct them to me.” 

He enters the office and she opens the bag to see what he got her. Inside, she finds the creamy mushroom gnocchi from her favourite Italian place. She has it at least once a month when she treats herself to lunch that is not leftovers from the night before. Y/N didn’t know that he noticed. She moves a strand of hair behind her ear and heads to the break room to enjoy her lunch. 

——

Y/N returns from lunch and is just settling down at her desk when Jenna approaches her. “Hey, how was your lunch?” Jenna asks. Y/N knows Jenna wants something so cuts to the chase, “What do you need?” Jenna gives Y/N relieved eyes at not having to keep up the charade. “Could you please tell him some contractors have been saying some pretty bad stuff about him on the news this morning? The media is going crazy about it,” Jenna begs, widening her eyes and pouting like a puppy dog. 

“Why me? Aren’t you the head of PR? Last time I checked, that’s in your job description.”

“It is, but he’s scary. He doesn’t get as mad at you as he does with anyone else. Maybe he has a crush on you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s because I don’t dance around telling him the truth. He likes my honesty.”

“Yeah, yeah, but can you pleaseeee do it? I’ll buy your coffee for the whole week if you do.”

“Fine, but I want that coffee. What have they been saying about him?”

“That he has a heart of stone, he’s rude and has secret children that he makes the mothers keep a secret.”

“Damn, that’s a lot. Only the first thing is kinda true, but the others are like so far out there. He barely leaves his office. How is he supposed to father children? I guess that’s why his dad wanted him to call him.” 

“Probably, thank you so much. I owe you.”

Jenna runs back to the elevator to head down to the PR offices and Y/N makes her way into Rafe’s office. She doesn’t stick to pleasantries as she knows he has a meeting soon. “Contractors have been on the news all day saying crude things about you. PR wants a meeting to do damage control. You know before random women start popping up saying that you are their baby daddy,” she tells him, hoping the joke will soften the news. Rafe looks up from his computer with a confused look on his face, “They are saying I fathered children? Obviously, they don’t know me well enough to know that I barely leave my office.”

“That’s what I said, but it’s what I’ve been told to tell you. Do you want me to cancel your other meetings this afternoon so you can head to PR?”

“Yes, please. Why are you telling me this and not Ms. Walsh?” 

“Uh, she had to get everything ready for the meeting. She had her assistant relay the message to me.”

“I see. So it wasn’t Ms. Walsh that I heard a few minutes ago.”

“No, sir.”

“Well, then I guess you’ll need someone to get you coffee for the next week.” 

Her eyes widen at being caught in the lie and quickly leaves the office after his teasing. He only ever teases her. 

——

Y/N leaves work at five o’clock on the dot after being told by Rafe that it is okay to leave. Before she left, he was still in the meeting with the PR team. She wonders what they could possibly be talking about to be in a meeting for so long. She enters her apartment to find Juni at the small kitchen island. Their small New York apartment doesn’t have much, but the view is incredible. It almost makes the absurd rent worth it. “So your hot boss was on the news today, Sweetie. How is he? Does he really have a million baby mamas?” Juni jests, pointing her pen at her roommate. Y/N just shakes her head at her friend, “He’s still in a meeting with the PR team. You know none of that is true, Juni. He literally never leaves his office, so unless he can get his work pregnant, then he is the father of nothing.”

Juniper Cresswell has been Y/N’s best friend since they were ten years old. Juni had just been adopted by the Cresswells and started attending the same school as Y/N. The pair instantly bonded over not having a traditional family. Y/N’s mother, Phoebe, had her at a young age and her biological father was non-existent in her life. Her mom did get remarried though to Nate and they had Nancy two years later. Nate treated her like his own daughter and even changed his last name to Phoebe’s so that they could all have the same last name. Y/N grew up in Queens and when she moved out, she was able to rent an apartment close to home with Juni. 

The knock on the door and the quick opening of it pull the attention of the girls. Standing at the entryway is Alexander. “Sup neighbours. How was our day?” he questions, leaving the doorway to sit at the kitchen island with the girls. “Mine was good. I got to help a mom get custody of her children from her wealthy asshole ex-husband, who only wanted the kids to get back at his ex-wife,” Juni retells, going back to her paperwork. Y/N walks over to him, “It was okay. Mr. Cameron got me lunch and he is being accused of having more children than Nick Canon.” This causes Juni to look up from her work, which goes unnoticed by Y/N because she is going through the mail that Alexander brought up. “How come you didn’t tell me your hot boss got you lunch, Sweetie?” Juni interrogates. Y/N stops at one particular letter, “Because it’s not that big of a deal. He knew I couldn’t eat mine. A client wouldn’t let me get off of the phone.” 

Alexander and Juni give each other a look and then stare at her as she ignores them. She opens the pink envelope to find a wedding invitation from her cousin. Francine has been dating Gwen for eight years now, so it isn’t a surprise that she is getting married. Y/N loves her cousin, but she can’t help groaning. She hates the idea of having to go to another family event alone. She doesn’t mind being single, the issue is that family events come with constant badgering from relatives. Why are you still single? Don’t you want to start your family soon? Aren’t you lonely? You only have a few more years to have a baby. Juni looks over Y/N’s shoulder to see the invitation. “Ooh, another event you have to go to by yourself,” Juni wisecracks, taking the invitation out of Y/N’s hand to show Alexander. She gives him a pleading look that asks if he could go with her. He shakes his head with pity, “Damn, I wish I could go with you, but that’s when I have to get my wisdom teeth removed.” 

Y/N turns to Juni in the hope of finding someone to be a buffer at the wedding. Juni sadly makes her lose that hope. “Sorry, Sweetie. That’s my dad’s birthday. My mom is planning a big party and everything.” The other girl sighs, resting her chin on her hand, “I guess I’ll just fly solo. Again.” Juni shrugs, “You never know. Maybe you’ll meet a handsome stranger, who you fall so head over heels for that you’ll be married before Francine.”

——

The PR meeting finishes at eight and Rafe is home a half hour later. It was an unproductive meeting of just going around in circles with the same weak idea of him making donations to various organizations and suing the contractors for defamation. Donating probably isn’t going to do much in the eyes of the public; they would say he is doing it just for how it would look during a so-called scandal. Suing won’t do much because the damage is already done. Dax greets Rafe at the door with an excited wag of the tail. “Hey bud, I miss you,” Rafe pets the German shepherd, moving over to the kitchen to get something to eat. 

He gets Dax’s food ready first and watches as the dog devours the food soon after it is placed in his bowl. Rafe then moves over to the stove to make himself grilled salmon, fondant potatoes and steamed broccoli. He makes his way to the living room and turns on the TV. He quickly changes the channel from the news, which has his face plastered on it. He knows his issues aren’t the worst problem in the world. He’s a wealthy, white, male; this society is designed for him, but he can’t help feeling disappointed that people would blindly believe things about him they hear on TV, especially if they aren’t true. Rafe had to deal with enough prejudices when he was growing up and he went through a little bit of a wild phase. He might have been a little rebellious, but not so much that he should have been judged harshly by the media. 

He settles on the couch, remembering he has to call his dad. He takes his phone out, dialling the number he needs. The phone stops ringing after a few seconds, “I know most of what they are saying is not true, but we need to workshop how we are going to fix this.” Rafe shakes his head at his dad’s direct approach. 

“Hello to you too, Dad. And Jenna thinks it would be good if I make some donations and sue the contractors.”

“Okay, that’s all fine, but you need to do something more. It’s too bad that you don’t have a girlfriend. You could show just how dedicated you are to her and that might distract the media.” 

Rafe frowns at his dad’s slight disappointment and quickly wants to rectify the issue, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m dating someone.”

“Really? Since when? How come you haven’t told me about her?”

“Um, we’ve been dating for about a month. And I haven’t told you because I wanted to see where it is going. But it’s going good so I guess this is as good of a time as ever.”

“This is great, Rafe. How about I come over later this week and we can talk to the PR team about making appearances with your new mystery girl? Talk to your girl about this too. Tell her how important this is going to be for your media image. ”

Rafe nods at his father's suggestion, “Yeah, Dad. That sounds great. I’ll see you later, bye.” Ward utters his own goodbyes and hangs up his phone. Rafe moans, sitting back on the couch. He looks at his now cold dinner in dissatisfaction. “What am I going to do now?” he whispers to himself. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @victory-in-the-llama

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 1 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: this started off as 3k andddddd it tripled before my eyes lol (sorry!) Enjoy!

Series Warnings: NSFW, Smut with a plot, Heavy BDSM, Dom/Sub storyline

Raven checked herself in the mirror outside Helen’s office. She knew Helen hated when they did not look presentable and perfect, even when they were just meeting with her. She prayed Helen would actually have a client for her tonight. After her abysmal first date, she needed an opportunity to redeem herself quickly. However, as she approached her office door to knock, her movements halted as raised voices filled her ears.

“This is unacceptable, Tash!” 

Raven cringed, Helen was terrifying on her good days but when she was mad, whew… she was a tornado and anyone unlucky enough to be in her path was screwed. And if she was angry at her best girl, Raven could not help but shake in her heels at what Helen would have in store for her.

“I can’t control a sick kid!” Raven heard Tasha respond, her exasperation clear in her voice. “My ex can’t take him. I don’t have much of a choice.” 

“Hold on. Come in, Raven. Stop gawking outside the damn door.” 

Raven glanced up in the corner at the camera that Helen positioned in the hallway and sighed. She should have known. She squared her shoulders and pushed in. 

“Hi, I just came to-“ 

“I know why you came,” the older woman waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t have a client for you tonight.” 

Raven’s whole body deflated with disappointment and stress. Another night and no dates. Her mind immediately went to her dwindling bank account. She could not survive many more weeks like this. She needed clients, steady ones, and fast. 

“Really? Nothing?” 

“Sorry.” Raven could tell Helen was not sorry and did not care one bit. The long timers like Tasha made her more than enough money that she did not truly need to concern herself with newbies that would likely crash and burn. And Raven knew they all expected her to do just that. But she needed to succeed, she did not have much of a choice. “It’ll pick up soon.” 

“Ok, t-thank you.” Defeated and frustrated, Raven simply turned to leave, resigned to spending the evening in her apartment when a hand grabbed her arm to stop her. 

“Wait! She can go in my place.” 

Helen’s laugh was visceral, signaling the absurdity of Tasha’s statement. “No. Absolutely not. He is one of your best customers therefore one of my best customers. I’m not a fucking idiot. Can’t send a girl who's never turned a trick before and has only been on one date to him.” 

Tasha shook her head. “Nahhh, she’s perfect. She’s his type, wide hips, a fat ass, small waist, pretty dark skin, and she has a naiveté, innocent factor he’ll eat up.” 

Raven merely stood there, getting whiplash from the onset of both compliments and insults being thrown at her as if she was not standing in the room. However, she knew she could not contribute to the conversation or lobby in either direction because she had no idea what either of them were talking about.

“Look, she’s green as fuck but he ain’t gonna want one of these snow bunnies or redbones you got runnin’ round. Look, the real is it’s her and you still make money tonight or you gotta cancel and you don’t make anything.” 

Though Raven did not know who they were talking about, she did know one thing. If he was on Tasha’s client list, he was one of the biggest fish Helen had reeled in. One night with him would not solve all her problems but it would lessen her stress. 

“I’ll do it!” She piped up immediately, her voice assured and confident as if she knew exactly what they were talking about. “I can do it. I need the money.” 

“Fine.” 

Internally, Raven could not help but cheer though she kept her excitement subdued. She knew this was not a credit to her or because Helen actually thought she would do a good job. The reality was, all she cared about was money so sending Raven would, at least, ensure the night was not a total waste. 

“But look here, you fuck this up, you’ll never get another client in this town again. Understand?” 

Raven nodded, “I won’t. I promise.” 

“Tasha, find her an outfit in the closet… something expensive so he knows she’s not a girl I pulled off the damn street. Maybe after tonight, you can afford a designer outfit or two.” 

Raven glanced down at her black body con dress. It wasn’t much, even she could admit that, nor was it new or designer like the other girls wore. But it showed off the right assets and looked good on her so she felt like that was enough.

“Thank you! You won’t regret it, seriously.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” Helen muttered as Tasha dragged Raven out of the room. 

Raven could not wipe the giant grin off her face as Tasha led her to the closet where the girls could borrow clothes for dates. Her body practically bounced after Tasha’s as they walked. 

“Thank you so much. I owe you big time.”

Tasha waved her hand as she started rifling through the options. “Don’t mention it. Just give me 10% of what you make tonight and we’ll call it even.” 

“Deal.” Raven answered immediately, she had no idea how much she’d make or what 10% of it would be but she knew she would still have a hefty sum even after paying both Tasha and Helen their cuts. All part of the investment, she decided quietly. “So who's the client?”

“Size? Look like a 10 or a 12?” 

“Good eye. 10. The client?” She asked again. 

“Michael B. Jordan.” 

Raven’s heart dropped and her jaw nearly unhinged. “Wait wait wait. THE Michael B. Jordan?? Actor, director, Hollywood bad boy, Michael B. Jordan? ‘The MCU just created a whole phase around him in a six movie deal’ Michael B. Jordan? ‘Time’s Magazine just dubbed him our generation’s Denzel’ Michael B. Jordan? He’s the most sought after actor in the game right now.”

Tasha nodded, rolling her eyes at Raven’s fangirling. “Damn, sis. You know his whole IMDB? But yea, that Michael B Jordan. He’s a regular when he’s out here in LA. Tomorrow’s his birthday so his friends hired me for the night. Look, leave that starstruck shit at the door when you get there, he hates that shit. And he’s rough,” she added as a warning as she handed Raven a dress. 

“How rough?” She could feel desire pool at her core at the thought. She thought about all the times she and her exes would dabble in BDSM and control but none of them were ever willing to take it as far as Raven thought she wanted it. Now, maybe it was her shot to test it out. She had figured she would get a client who was into that anyway, seemed like the most popular kink among all the clients she heard about. Raven quickly slid out of her old outfit and into the new one.

“I hate coaching you new girls,” Tasha muttered under her breath as she checked her phone.  

Raven quickly corrected herself. “I-It’s not a problem! I promise. I like rough… I did some stuff with boyfriends and I actually really enjoy it so no problem. I’m just trying to figure out what to expect.”  

“He isn’t gonna actually hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about. He expects obedience and submission but he’ll respect your limit if it goes too far. But since he’s never been with you before, he’ll probably keep it vanilla. Most you can probably expect is him calling you names, maybe he’ll make you beg or spank you a couple times? He ties me up and shit and can get creative but this is a surprise so I doubt he’ll have time to plan anything all that interesting. Don’t expect any warmth… well don’t expect that from any nigga you go in dates with as a rule but I know he seems one way in interviews and shit so people think they know him. When the door closes, you’re there to play a part and serve him. That’s it. He wants control, give him that and you’ll be fine.” 

“Ok. Anything else I should know?” 

“Oh don’t call him by his name.” 

Raven’s nose wrinkled. “Ok what do I call him?” 

“You know, sir, daddy, whatever. Take your pick.”  

Raven nodded, she could tell Tasha was getting bored of her “coaching”. But she only had one last question.  

“Is it normal to be this nervous?” 

Tasha laughed. “The first time? Yea. I almost vomited the first time I went on a date. Once you get regulars, it’s not . You get to know them, they get to know you and it gets comfortable. They are paying you but you got more power and control than you’d think. But just keep your head about you. He acts like a bad boy but he’s cool people, not a bad guy for your first time. Trust me. Dress fits like a glove. You should keep it.” 

Raven turned in the mirror for a few minutes before offering Tasha a sad smile. She coveted so many pieces in the closet but Helen always insisted they be returned unless you wanted to purchase them from her. “I can’t afford it.”

“Helen won’t miss it. It's an old dress of mine I used to wear on early dates. It doesn’t even fit most of these skinny bitches.”

Raven glanced at her. “Why are you being so nice to me? Most of the girls are… awful,” she muttered the last part more to herself than to Tasha. “They wouldn’t have done a fraction of the shit you’ve done in the last 10 minutes.” 

Tasha merely shrugged. “Most of them see every girl who shows up here as competition. You’re pretty, have a nice body and all that. But no shade, you ain’t worth the energy to be mean. Besides, if I let you fail, I could fuck up my best customer. One date with Michael and I have my rent paid for months. Don’t get it twisted, I’m a bitch,” she assured her. “But I’m not a dumb bitch.” She glanced at the clock. “Aight, I gotta go. Nanny’s gonna be gone in a bit and my son is sick. Have fun and don’t mess this up cause you’ll be on your own with Helen if this shit goes left.” 

“Noted. Thanks… again.” 

Tasha chuckled. “I thought I said don’t mention it? You’re gonna have to become more of a bitch to survive around here, newbie. Cause this good girl shit? It’ll get you eaten alive.” 

Tasha gave her one last glance before leaving Raven alone with her thoughts. 

“Such inspiring words,” she mumbled to herself before she glanced at a notification on her phone. 

Dad: Car broke down. Gonna be $700 to get it fixed. Send that with the mortgage

No please, not even framed as a question. Her money was never her own, it was her family’s. And while they blew their own money on vices and frivolous shit, they always knew Raven would swoop in to foot the things that mattered. And so now, they did not even ask. They just presented their bills to the Raven ATM and she always found a way.   

Raven: I’m helping with the mortgage already… any chance you can cover that? 

Dad: Had to set aside money for Kiara’s school… she wants to go back to be a chef. It’s just $700. 

She rolled her eyes, she did not even have the cash from her date in hand yet and the money was already dwindling right before her eyes. She knew she could not say no, there was no point. 

Raven: Yea, I’ll get it to you later this week.

More motivation, she supposed, to make sure the night was flawless.

***

The club was filled with hazy smoke as Michael and his friends passed around a blunt in his section. The night was young and the drinks were flowing with no signs of slowing down. 

“Aye brah,” Steelo hit his arm softly to get his attention. “We got a surprise for you waiting at the St. Regis,” he held out the hotel room key. 

Michael whistled and dapped the man up. “My nigga!” He was appreciative. It was his first time back in LA since finishing up filming in Atlanta and he had missed burying himself in his favorite girl. He had tried to find temporary release while in Atlanta but no girl was like Tasha and that was a fact. 

Michael grabbed the card and slid it into his pocket. “Aight that’s my cue. Thanks for the birthday present. See y’all niggas tomorrow. Rest of the night’s on me!” 

He said goodbye to everyone before his security led him to his car. Despite the liquor and drugs coursing through his system, he had a clear enough head to envision what he would do to Tasha. That girl was truly up for anything and he loved every second of it. 

He put his phone on DND as he entered the hotel and went up to the room Steelo texted him. 

He did not make much noise as he entered the suite, expecting to find Tasha already naked and ready in the position he liked. Instead, he found a woman standing by the window. He studied her for a moment, in his confusion, taking in her reflection as she marveled at the penthouse suite view of downtown LA. He studied how her fingers barely touched the glass of the window as if that would give her a closer look. He could see her face in the reflection. She was beautiful, her big brown eyes filled with longing and wonder at the twinkling lights across the horizon. She was so taken by it that she did not even notice Michael until he cleared his throat. 

She turned around, Michael suddenly amending his earlier thought. She was not beautiful, that was an insulting understatement. She was painfully breathtaking. He had been in the presence of many beautiful women in his life but she surpassed them all. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I-I was j-just waiting and g-got caught up in the v-view. T-this is the perfect room, you can see the whole city. I-I’m Nicole.” She always went by her middle name with Helen and on her first date. Easy enough to remember to ensure she actually answered to it but kept her true identity to herself. 

“Where’s Tasha?” 

“Oh, umm she had an emergency. Helen wanted to make sure your birthday gift was still perfect so she sent me. I hope that’s… alright?” 

Michael watched as she chewed on her plump bottom lip, he wanted to pull it out of her teeth and bite it himself. He could also hear the nervousness and fear in her voice as if she was worried he would throw a fit about the change. And while no one compared to Tasha, he still could have a good time. Besides, they could not have picked a more perfect replacement. Her ass was delectable, his hand twitched with the urge to smack it. Her hip to waist ratio was mouth watering, he could only imagine how she would look with the deep arch he liked, how his fingers would dig into the meat of her hips as he fucked her from behind. Her breasts sat high, looking good enough to devour right then and there. It was not the girl he was expecting, true, but he would not dare complain. 

“All good. We can still have a good time together.” He noted how her entire body physically relaxed at his words, her shoulders coming down from her ears, her jaw relaxing, the tension in her tight limbs releasing.

They stared at each other for a moment before, awkwardness spreading across the room before she glanced down at herself. 

“S-sorry, I s-should probably take this off… or I can wait till you tell me? You were probably expecting me to already be… Tasha didn’t say what I should do when I arrived or how you liked… so… I’m talking a lot. Does it feel like I’m talking a lot to you? There’s probably not this much talking, is there? I’m gonna stop a-and let you talk a-and tell me how you want me.” she clamped her lips shut as she realized she was rambling. She wished she could smack herself in the forehead. This was already not going well. She did not know how she got up and performed in front of ogling men all through her college and her masters program. She had an altar ego when she danced on stage then but it seemed that vixen was nowhere to be found. And she desperately needed her again. She knew she would arrive once they actually got started. This was where her first date went off the rails, the lead up. There was a certain distance with men at the club… this lifestyle though, was the exact opposite and she did not expect how hard it would be for her. She just wanted to do the deed and go but being one of Helen’s girls required so much more. And all that pre-sex conversation and “bonding” with men she’d never talk to regularly was difficult for her. It didn’t come naturally like it did to other women. “Sir.” she added, remembering Tasha’s instructions. “Sorry.” 

Michael could not help but chuckle slightly. He could not explain why but he found her ranting and nervousness endearing. She was like a lamb trapped with a wolf, so sweet and earnest, not realizing that he was the complete opposite of both those things. It was far different from his first date with Tasha who knew exactly what to say and do. This girl seemed to not know either. But he found that charming, authentic. Other women were always playing a role. It seemed as though she showed up as her true self, beautiful, innocent, awkward and all. 

He wondered how long she’d been in the game. Couldn’t be that long,he reasoned, given how nervous she looked. However, she seemed eager to please, which was his favorite type of woman. If she was done for what he had planned, he knew he could still have fun with her. 

“You can stay like that for now. Tasha told you what I expect?” 

Raven nodded. “Yes, sir.” It sounded so odd on her tongue to call anyone sir in this day and age. However, she could not deny there was a certain arousing quality to it. 

Michael perched against the table across from the bed, gesturing for Raven to sit down on the edge of the bed across from him. “And what do I expect, Nicole?” 

“Obedience, sir.” Raven fidgeted with the hem of her dress as she watched him study her. She could feel him undressing her with his eyes. Usually, she did not wilt under the ogling stares of men. Seven years working as a stripper got her over that hang up really quick. However, something about Michael’s stare was unnerving. Not in a creepy way but in an intense one, as if he was trying to learn everything he could about her by simply staring. 

“You nervous?” 

“No.” 

“Clearly Tasha ain’t tell you everything cause one thing I don’t allow is lying. 10 spankings. Lie again and I’ll triple it.” 

Her eyes fell down to his arms, taking in the taut muscles straining against his t-shirt. She wondered how heavy handed his slaps would be. Her panties were growing damp the longer she spoke to him. She could not remember the last time a man elicited this sort of reaction from her body.

“Yes.” 

He raised an eyebrow, Raven immediately correcting her mistake. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl,” Raven immediately felt her body warm at the term, she could not hide the small but distinct smile that formed. She liked hearing it on his lips. “And don’t be. It’ll be a fun night for us both. I don’t know your limits and all that shit so I’ll take it easy. Tash and I got a safe word. We can use one for the night if that would make you more comfortable?” 

Raven smiled, grateful that he was even taking that into account. “Yea, that would be great.”

“You pick.” 

“Ummm… Wakanda?” she blurted out, the first word that came to mind as she looked at him. She immediately hit herself in the head, cringing at herself. “I’m sorry, that’s so embarrassing… I’m a Marvel n-nerd and it’s just the first word that popped into my head.” 

Michael tried to hold his laughter in but could not. His laughter filled the room, causing Raven to feel slightly less embarrassed. “That is definitely a first but if that’s what you want then deal. You used a safe word before?” 

Raven shook her head. 

“When you want or need me to stop, something’s too painful or going too far, you say it and everything ends for the night. Understand?” 

She nodded again. 

“When I ask you a question, I also expect you to use your words.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good, now that we got that shit outta the way… we can have some fun.” He folded his arms and stared at her. “Lose the dress.” 

Raven took a deep breath and stood up, her arms stretching behind her back to find the zipper of the dress. Before she knew it, the soft fabric was pooled at her feet. She smirked at how his eyes darkened with lust, how his knuckles gripped the edge of the table as if to control his own urges. Slowly but surely, the nerves in her body started to dissipate as lust replaced them. She started to repeat the motion to remove her bra but his voice stopped her. 

“Did I tell you to take that off too? 5 more.” Raven could not help the way her own eyes flashed with excitement at the thought of punishment, a fact Michael was all too keen to point out. “Oh I see… you want it… want me to spank that fat ass until it’s covered in my handprints?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” And she did, she wanted his hands on her body as soon as possible.

“Leave everything else on and crawl to me.” 

Her voice hitched. She had never crawled to anyone. She had seen it in porn, men leading women around in leashes, treating them as pets. And while she knew she should have found it degrading and humiliating, it had only turned her on. She could never convince her past boyfriends to take it that far, the most they were willing to do was spank her or call her names. But Michael was clearly a natural at this and knew exactly what he wanted. And she was more than happy to oblige. 

She sank down to her hands and knees, the carpet roughly poking into her skin. She ignored it though as she kept her eyes trained on his, each step closer increasing the ache between her thighs. She could not remember the last time she had been this wet without anyone laying a finger on her. But it was him… his aura, his commanding being, the possessive look in his eyes that let her know she was his, even if it was only for the night. She so desperately wanted to please him and she found that, in her heart, it was not because it was her job. But because she genuinely wanted to hear him praise her. 

By the time she reached him, the march across the room feeling longer than it actually was, every pleasure sensor in her body screamed and begged to be touched, caressed, kissed, or bitten. Whatever he wanted to do, she did not care. 

She sat back on her heels, an innocent doe eyed look on her face as she stared up at him, waiting. Michael could have cum right then and there, the picture of submission beneath him and it was their first time together. 

And only time, he reminded himself. For some reason, that thought burned uncomfortably in his mind, so much so that he pushed it out just as quickly. 

“Good girl,” he liked how her whole being seemed to beam at his compliment. His hand went to her hair, wrapping his fist around her long kinky curls. 

He held tight as he unbuttoned his pants and his dick sprung into her face. Her eyes grew as she took in his size and girth, he certainly had a package to be proud of. And she yearned for a taste of him, salivating for it. She willed him to shove it down her throat. And she did not have to wait long as his head poked at her lips to part them. Her tongue flicked his head gently. He let her control it for a few minutes, the young woman opting to tease him with soft licks up his shaft that made him moan softly. 

“You’re gonna pay for that later,” he moaned as she continued working him, teasing his dick with her mouth. She spat on him, using her hand to get him as sloppy as possible. 

She looked up and winked at him. “You want me to stop, sir?” 

This girl is gonna be the death of me, he decided right then and there. Submissive but a brat… and she was a natural at it.  

“Nah you ain’t stoppin’ anytime soon.” He unceremoniously pushed into her mouth, this time pushing as deeply as he could, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged immediately, choking and spluttering as her eyes filled with tears. “Want me to stop?” 

She shook her head immediately, her eyes still showed her eagerness. 

And he did not stop again. She moaned around him, sending tiny vibrations through him that drove him wild. He did not give her a chance to breathe or catch her breath as he fucked her mouth like it was a mere convenient hole. And he could tell she loved every second of it as he watched one of her hands drift from his thigh to between her own. He immediately stopped, using her hair to yank her head back. 

Layers of spit kept her mouth connected to his dick. “You don’t touch yourself without asking, understand? That pussy’s mine. Such a desperate and pathetic little slut, already trying to cum.” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

As much as Michael had wanted to bust down her throat, he was ready to bury himself inside her sweet pussy. But first, he needed a taste. And before she could receive any pleasure, she had to be punished. 

“Crawl to the bed and bend over the edge. Ass in the air.” 

Her heart sagged as she realized he was not going to let her continue tasting him. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your taste again,” he winked at her. “Bed. Now. Make me wait another second and I’ll add another 10.” 

Raven knew his words should have had her hauling ass to the bed, however, she opted to take her sweet time. He liked submission, that was true. But it was clear he also liked a little pushback that allowed him to prove his dominance, reestablish his control. And that was one role Raven had always wanted to play. She took her time crawling back, putting an extra sway in her hips to show him her thick ass. She also knew that he could likely see the glistening of the mess between her thighs as she moved. She could feel the intensity of his stare on her as if he were burning a hole in her head. 

“Oh baby girl… the things I’m gonna do to you,” he whispered, his voice tickling her ears. 

The journey back to the bed was longer, Michael allowing her to continue her show. Finally, she picked herself up and assumed the position he demanded. 

She waited with bated breath, no movement in the room but she could still feel his eyes on her. 

“I hope you enjoyed that,” he offered as she finally felt him move toward her, her pussy clenching in anticipation. “Cause you’re gonna pay for it in a minute.” 

She braced herself for the onslaught of pain and pleasure but it never came. Instead, she felt a gentle touch, his hands gripping her ass. Lower and lower they went until one was hovering right above her pussy. She did not understand how he was so close and yet was not touching her.  

“P-Please,” she whimpered, desperate for any type of contact. 

“Please what? Want me to make you cum like the filthy slut you are?” 

“Y-yes, p-please… I-I’ll d-do anything,” her voice was filled with her desperation. She needed him like her body needed air to breathe. 

“I don’t think you deserve to cum,” he shot back. “Acting like a fuckin’ whore for a man you don’t even know. I bet I could touch you once and you’d cum… so horny, so desperate for me. Just like I knew you would be. Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

She knew the answer she had to give. “N-No, sir.” 

“Why?” 

“B-because I’ve b-been a bad girl.” 

“Yes, you have. And bad girls get punished, don’t they?” 

She nodded, her fingers getting tangled up in the comforter on the bed. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl. Tonight, you don’t cum without permission. This pussy and all your pleasure is mine to give and take away. When you’re ready, beg. Count ‘em out or I'll start over.” 

She cried out as he ripped her lace thong right off her body, the fabric snapping against her. He quickly followed it up with a swat to her ass that made her moan. 

“One.” 

She steadied her breathing and counted through each one. It got harder and harder to maintain the count, as he would stop at random intervals to touch her. The first time, two fingers slid into her drenched core, curling into her g-spot with every stroke. He slowly finger fucked her and rubbed her clit, her punishment almost completely forgotten as she surrendered to the bliss of his hands. She could feel her own orgasm building, her pussy clenching around his finger. However, he did not even give her a chance to beg before he stopped. He resumed spanking her, Raven almost losing count in the haze of the pain and pleasure he provided. 

“13.” 

“Are you gonna be a good slut for me? Or do I need to add more?” he asked gruffly in her ear as he put more force in each hit. 

Still sporting the strength and weight of Erik Killmonger, his athleticism, strength, and power showed through every single slap. 

“15… y-yessss… I p-promise, I-I’ll b-be good. Six… sixteen…” 

“You’ll be a good what? Say it!” he ordered as his hand rained down on her ass. She knew she would be bruised tomorrow but she could care less.

“20… I-I’ll b-be a good s-slut. A g-good whore. F-fuck me, p-please!” She begged. Her words were strangled, like a dying woman begging for life. He had her right where he wanted her, she knew that much. And she loved it. Loved every second of surrendering to him and accepting whatever he chose to give: pain, pleasure, humiliation. She did not care, she wanted every single thing and more. 

He stopped, resuming his teasing. This time, he spread her legs and ate her out from the back, his tongue doing the work of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit on her clit. 

She panted as she felt her orgasm build. She remembered his instructions and immediately started to beg. 

“P-Please let me c-cum. F-fuck… f-feels so good. Daddy… please!” She had not intended to call him daddy at any point in the night. She always hated the way it sounded and felt. However, it slipped out and she did not hate it so much on him, and neither did he. 

“Cum for daddy, baby,” he whispered, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he fucked her hard and fast. 

She buried her face in the comforter as the most powerful orgasm of her life ripped through her. So powerful, she felt tears streaming down her face, destroying her perfectly done makeup. Her thanks and appreciation for allowing her to cum was incoherent as his fingers continued to pump in and out of her.

While she calmed down, he took a moment to slide a condom on before lining himself with her wet entrance. He used his head to tease her, her entire body jolting with pleasure as he tapped it against her clit. 

“What do you want, baby?” 

Unflinching, she pushed herself to her forearms and glanced over her shoulder. “F-fuck me. Fuck me like a whore.” 

Without a second thought, he slammed his dick into her, Raven letting out a scream of pleasure that made him thankful the rooms around him were empty. His steady, powerful strokes sent her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She had never been fucked like this before, hard and rough. She had never expected pleasure quite like this when she entered the hotel room but she would thank God for it. 

The only sounds were her consistent moans and screams as Michael fucked her viciously, his hips slamming into her hips with every thrust. She used her forearms to meet every thrust, which only turned Michael on even more. She lost track of the amount of times she begged him to cum. He only did not allow her once, savoring the sounds of her pleas as she tried to hold it in. And when she couldn’t, he did not skip a beat in flipping her over and punishing her, this time with his belt, which almost made her cum on the spot again. 

He moved her around the room, fucking her on any surface he deemed strong enough to hold her weight. 

“You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy?? You gon’ cum again, you fuckin’ whore?” 

Her knuckles were white as she gripped the table he fucked her on. Both of her legs were draped over his shoulders, allowing him to reach regions Raven did not even know were possible. She could barely think since he put her in this particular position, let alone formulate a sentence to respond. 

He hand one hand cradling her neck and head while the other held onto her back, using both as leverage to fuck her. He moved the one on her back to bring down a harsh smack to her outer thigh. 

She gasped. “Y-Yes, yes, yes! P-Please let me c-cum! D-daddy, p-please, please, please.” 

“Cum on this dick, baby. That’s it.” he continued fucking her through her orgasm, Raven left feeling as though she could not withstand much else. As she felt yet another orgasm start to build causing her to shy away from him. “Nah don’t run from me. You wanted it. Acting like a fuckin’ brat. Take this dick!” 

“It-It’s too… fuck! J-Just like that… It’s… t-too much,” she panted out, her words choppy as she still tried to run from him despite his instructions. Her body did not know if she wanted him to stop or continue, to go faster or slower. That is until she let go of the table, all of her weight naturally leaning to one side as her arm gave out beneath her.  

“FUCK,” she cried out as she felt the table slowly tip over. Because Michael was also bracing his weight on it to fuck her, they both toppled to the ground. She groaned, her eyes blurring as her head hit the corner of the tv stand next to them before she fell down to the ground. Her hand clutched the side of her head, now understanding what the phrase seeing stars meant. 

She clenched her eyes shut as she tried to give herself a minute for the pounding in her head to stop. She let out a breathy chuckle, in pain but finding the injury rather hilarious as she felt Michael try to untangle their limbs. Soon, his deep baritone joined in, their laughter filling the room as they laid on the floor. 

“You… alright?” she asked when they both settled down, her hand still pressing into her head. 

“Yea, fell on my arm but it’s not that bad. You good?” 

She nodded. “Y-Yea, just banged my head on the tv thing.” 

“Let me help you up.” 

Michael held out his hand, Raven giving him her free one to pull her to her feet. However, at the fast movement, she immediately felt lightheaded. Her naked body sagged into his as everything started to fade in and out. 

“Oh shit, you’re bleeding,” he muttered, lifting her head up to examine her, his arm immediately going around her waist to hold her up. “Can you stand?” 

“Barely,” she muttered. Her head felt so heavy, all she wanted to do was collapse back down to the ground. 

“Aye aye, ma. Keep your eyes open for me, aight?” He guided her over to the bed and sat her down before running into the bathroom to grab a bathrobe and a towel. He wrapped her in the robe to make sure she was covered before calling an ambulance and calling down to his security to alert them of the situation. 

He figured an ambulance was slight overkill as she likely just had a concussion but he did not want to take any chances. He worried he pushed her too far too fast. He immediately felt guilty. If he had not been fucking her so rough, she would not be half unconscious next to him. He had just gotten completely lost in her. 

He quickly pulled on his own clothes so he could be ready when the EMTs arrived. He grabbed a towel and swatted away her hand to press it into the wound. It did not look that deep but the sight of her face covered in blood was still jarring for him. Her bloody hand rested on his arm as she tried to continue sitting up. Her eyes started to flutter closed, Michael using his grip on her shoulder to keep her upright.

“Eyes open.” She still responded to his commands. “Good girl, that’s it. Keep your eyes on me. Tell me about your tattoo.” It was the first thing he could think of, referencing the ink on her forearm. 

Even through the pain, she managed to give him a funny look. “You fucked me so h-hard, I-I might h-have a c-concussion a-and you c-care about my tattoo?” 

“Gotta keep you awake somehow, baby girl. Tell me.” 

The tattoo, one of a small bird cage, three small birds flying out of the open doors. The word freedom was written beneath it. 

“M-Maya… Angelou… h-her memoir, I Know Why The Caged Bird… Sings. F-first book I r-remember relating t-to… the i-idea that literature and s-storytelling c-could save y-you. She m-made me w-want to be a w-writer.” 

“You’re a writer?” 

Even in her pain, he could see her body sag slightly, sadness rippling across her face. “Yea…w-was anyway,” she mumbled. 

“What kind of books do you write?”��

However, Michael would never get the answer to that question, at least not that night. The edges of her vision were starting to blur and grow black. Her eyes lulled closed and this time, not even the sweet sounds of his voice and commands could force her to open them back up. 

***

Raven groaned as she woke up in a bed, the beeping of the machines around her filling her ears. She shifted uncomfortably as all of the sensors in her body started to wake up and she began to register everything. The pounding in her skull was overwhelming but her whole body ached. She knew it was likely a combination of Michael’s pension for acrobatics, an ache she’d gladly sign up for again and again, and the fall. Slowly the events that landed her in the hospital came back to her. 

The fall. How embarrassing. She knew she’d never live this one down when it made its way back to Helen and the other women. Falling and ending up in the hospital after her second date overall and first one with one of their biggest clients. She was screwed. 

“Welcome back.” 

She glanced to the side, shocked to find Michael sipping a coffee and sitting in the chair by her window. She was equally shocked to find that it was already light outside. 

How long was I out for? She thought to herself. 

As if he could read her mind and questions, Michael chuckled. “About five hours… longest five hours of my life,” he added under his breath. “How’s your head?” 

“Better than my pride. W-what are you still doing here?” She could not keep the shocked tone out of her voice. It was not that she did not appreciate him sticking around, she just would have never expected it given how Tasha described him. 

“Wanted to make sure you were good,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t want you to wake up in the hospital alone.” 

Her heart fluttered, even though she knew it shouldn’t. He was a client, and as soon as he assured she was alive and likely not going to sue him or something, he would be on his way and forget all about her. That was the gig. 

“Oh um… that’s really sweet. T-thank you. And thank you for bringing me here.” 

“It was my fault so it seems only right.” 

“Eh, I think we both shoulder some of the blame there. Not sure why we thought that rickety table could hold both of our weight. Blinded by passion, I suppose,” she mused. “It was fun though,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Sorry… for ruining your birthday gift. I k-know I wasn’t the girl you wanted or how it should’ve ended. I feel bad,” she admitted. 

 Michael studied her for a moment, unsure of how to respond to any of that. Sure, she was not the girl he had expected to find in his room. However, he was happy about that. The night had exceeded every expectation he had, until the very end of course. She was a breath of fresh air, a new challenger who had been up for everything he threw at her. And something about her… he just found himself drawn to it. Which is why he was still sitting here in the hospital five hours later instead of leaving. It was not just the great sex or her beauty, it was her. She was sweet and awkward but had fire and could go toe to toe with him when she wanted. He liked that, the challenge she presented. And while he knew she was only supposed to replace Tasha for that one night, the entire time he was buried inside her, all he craved was more of her. And that feeling had not subsided, even as she laid in a hospital bed. 

He shook his head. “I always believe shit goes exactly as it’s supposed to. And don’t sweat it. I had an amazing time last night. You were somethin’ else.” 

He watched as a small smile bloomed on her face. 

“No Tasha, I know,” she admitted, biting her lip. Once again, he resisted the urge to rip it out. A picture of her lips wrapped around his dick flashed in his head. He knew it was inappropriate to lust after her while she laid in the bed. But he could not help it. Having her was like the first hit of a drug, he needed another fix. “But I’m glad it was still fun for you. I had a good time too.” 

Michael closed the distance between them, one hand going to brace on the railing of her bed while the other held his weight as he leaned over her. 

“Don’t compare yourself to Tasha or any other girl out here. You’re one of a kind.” His voice was low, he usually reserved this voice for behind closed doors. It was commanding and authoritative and he could tell she loved it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her legs tighten together, the lust clouding her eyes, the way her lips parted to let out a shakily breath. “Understand?” 

She nodded, gulping. 

“Words.” 

“Y-Yes, I u-understand.”

But she did not understand. Did not understand why he was still there, why he seemed to care about her, even if it was just to sit in a hospital when she knew he had better things to be doing, or why he at all cared whether she compared herself to anyone. She did not understand him. She had expected what Tasha warned her about… that she would just be there to service, a mere body for him to use as he pleased for the night. That did not bother her, she was there to do a job. However, he seemed to be more than that. You don’t spend all night in a hospital for just a body, right? You don’t care about the low self esteem or self deprecating comments of just a body? And you don’t look at just a body how he was looking at her right now… with such an intense craving and yearning that all Raven wanted to do was to let the ground swallow her whole. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. His hand cradled her face as he took in the bloodied bandage on her forehead. He tilted her head up studying it, his thumb gently caressing her big tresses of kinky hair. 

However, their moment, whatever it was, ended as quickly as it started as Raven’s phone rang loudly next to her. Michael seemed to realize his mistake and looked almost startled, as if he did not know how he ended up so close to her. He took several steps back as Raven grabbed her cell phone from the table. 

She groaned as she realized it was her dad. Michael turned to stare out the window, giving her a bit of privacy as she answered the call. 

“Hey, what do you need?” She knew he was calling because he needed something. None of them ever called to see about her. 

“Hey Rae… could you send whatever money you can today?” 

Raven’s face twisted up in confusion. “Today?? The mortgage isn’t due till the end of the month.” She glanced at Michael who seemed preoccupied in his phone before lowering her voice. “I-I can’t just pull money out of nowhere. Why do you even need it?” 

He sighed. “Kiara got arrested.” 

“Arrested?? For what??” 

“Yea, she got into a fight with her new boyfriend at a bar and they hauled them both off to County. Gotta post bail for both of them by tomorrow afternoon. Or she’ll have to sit there until Monday.”

Raven felt the ache in her head grow but this had nothing to do with the concussion. She would never understand how she was the ugly duckling of the family, the forgotten and unwanted second daughter when Kiara, the prodigal perfect daughter, could barely hold down a job or stay out of trouble for more than a week. Well, that was not true. She completely understood… it did not make it easier to stomach or deal with though. 

“How much?” 

“$10k for them both.” 

“Ten thousand US American dollars??” she cried out loudly, her shock getting the better of her. At that, Michael’s movements did still for a moment, he had been trying not to listen but her outburst made it rather difficult. “I c-can’t come up with that type of money today. Not just because it’s impossible but I’m in the hospital.” 

She heard her dad sigh. “Your sister can’t sit in jail all weekend, she’ll be hurt in there. I’m pulling some money out of savings but it isn’t enough.” 

Raven shook her head. “I’m doing just fine by the way, thanks for asking or caring,” she shot back. Michael could not help but glance over his shoulder at that, taking in the hurt and disappointed tone in her voice that she masked with snark. 

He felt the uncomfortable sting of rage at the despondent look on her face. He wanted to snatch the phone out of her hand and hang up on whoever it was. 

“I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. But are you gonna send me the money or not? I don’t have time for this. Your sister is rotting in jail right now, only God knows what could be happening to her, and you wanna have an attitude? We are the only family you have. The least you could do is make sure we’re ok while you live it up in LA. I need $6,000.” 

She clenched her eyes shut. She knew that meant handing over her entire cut after she paid Helen and Tasha and then the last bit of savings she had left. But she also knew she could not say no. “Fine. I’ll figure it out and send you the money by tomorrow.” 

“Oh it’s her calling from the jail. I gotta go. Text me when you send it. Bye.” 

She pulled the phone from her ear and shook her head. “You’re welcome,” she muttered to herself. She leaned back in her pillows and forced her eyes to the ceiling to stop the tears that brimmed in her eyes from falling. She did not know why her family’s treatment still got to her, 30 years later. Tasha was right… She needed thicker skin in all areas of her life. 

“You good?” 

She pressed her hands into her cheeks as a couple tears fell. She felt a wave of embarrassment as she remembered Michael was in the room. As if her interaction with him could not get any worse. They went from mind blowing sex to a hospital room and brain injuries to tears. 

You really ruin everything for everyone, she thought to herself. 

“Yea, yea. Just dumb family stuff.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.” 

“I thought I told you I didn’t like lies.” 

Raven eyed him for a moment. Part of her would love to talk to someone about her family drama, unload all the pent up feelings she pushed deep down into her soul. However, she knew she could not do it with him of all people. So instead of the vulnerability and honestly he demanded, she instead offered him a cheeky smile. 

“The Nicole that responds to your demands costs $5k a night. And as you heard on the phone, I could most certainly use it,” she added with a wink. 

“Nicole?” The doctor came in just as Michael was about to open his mouth to respond. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I got hit in the head.” She glanced at Michael with an expression that read what kinda stupid question is that? He merely snickered.   

“Makes sense. Well you have a very mild concussion. You’ll need to rest for at least the next 7 days… avoid a lot of screens and movement and anything that requires a lot of mental power. It was very mild though so you should be back on your feet soon. You’re free to go.” 

“Thank you,” she muttered. A week in bed meant a week of no work. And all the money she had to show for this disastrous night was gone. However, she had no time to really wallow in any of that. One thing Raven always did was figure it out. 

She slid out of bed, immediately swaying slightly causing Michael to rush to her side. He was quick on his feet, all that boxing training went to good use. He caught her before she crumbled fully, guiding her back to the bed. 

“Gotta move a lot slower than you’d think with a concussion, especially the first few days. You sure you’re gonna be good on your own?” he asked as he stared down at her. 

She chuckled, the sound void of any true humor. “Yea I’ll be fine. Always am. Thanks for the assist. C-could you hand me my dress?” 

Michael grabbed her clothes from the table in the corner. He watched her as she slid it back on, her movements far more measured and slow as she heeded his advice. She looked far more weary and exhausted than she did when she first woke up, as if that phone call and whoever was on the other line had aged her considerably. 

Once she was fully dressed and finished her discharge paperwork, she settled onto the bed to slide into her hospital slippers. Not the best shoes to wear home but they beat the uncomfortable heels she could barely walk in on a good day. 

“Thanks again… for waiting with me. You really didn’t have to.” She glanced down at her phone as she waited for him to respond, absentmindedly opening the Uber app so she could get a ride home. 

“What are you doing?” 

Her face twisted up in confusion. “Calling an uber?” 

“You shouldn’t uber home like this. I’ll drop you off.” 

Raven instinctively shook her head, the action causing a spot of pain that forced her to stop. “I-I can’t let you do that. You’ve done more than enough. Seriously.” 

“I wasn’t askin’. Ain’t about to let you uber home. If you don’t want me to know where you live, my driver can take you and he’ll come get me after.” 

Raven’s heart warmed at the thought. She did not like the idea of a client knowing where she laid her head every night. That seemed to be one of the few rules all the girls lived by. However, she trusted him. For some reason. 

“No, no, it’s not a problem. T-thank you.” 

Before she knew it, he and his security were hustling her out of a back entrance the hospital used for high profile guests and into a SUV with tinted windows. The car ride was virtually silent, Raven not knowing what to say or do around him. A night in a hospital meant they had a rapport. But he was still a client and this was the longest and most intimate interaction she had ever had with one. And everything since 3 am last night seemed like it was authentically from the kindness of his heart. She had promised him nothing in return for such kindness and he did not ask for anything. She wondered if he assumed and she just missed the cue? 

However, as they pulled up outside of her apartment building in her neighborhood, she glanced at him expectantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But nothing came. 

Instead, he merely said, “You sure you’re gonna be ok alone?” She could tell his eyes were searching the neighborhood, taking in the less than safe area she lived in. 

She nodded. “I, umm, have a roommate. So not fully alone. She’ll be home from work later tonight so I’ll be good. Thank you. A-and sorry again… for ruining your special day. At least, you got a good story for your friends and Tasha next time?” she chuckled. “I’m sure she’ll never let me live it down. Anyway… thanks again for everything a-and it was great to meet you.” 

She knew this was goodbye for good. Their one night together was just that, one night before he went back to being Tasha’s best client. She was the replacement, not the one they came back to for more. 

Though she did not fully know why, she reached over and grabbed his hand that rested between them and squeezed, “You were a hell of a first date,” she winked at him.  

Michael found the part of him he hated most did not want to say goodbye to her yet either. The part he kept caged and usually ignored had full control over him today. It was as if she had pressed all the right buttons to release that specific beast and did not even realize what she had done. Now, the beast roamed free and he found it difficult to herd it and the feelings it created back into their cages. 

He did not want to feel what Nicole made him feel… he did not want to care about whether her neighborhood was safe for her; he did not want to know who she was talking to so he could strangle them for causing that look in her eye; he did not want to know anything else about her like why she said she was a writer in the past tense, what she had written or what she turned to reading and writing to be saved from; and he did not want to feel the urge to reach in his pocket and write her a check for another $5,000 to solve whatever her problems were if it meant she would not look as she had in the hospital ever again. And most of all, he did not want to yearn for all those answers like he needed air. The man who would’ve done all those things, who would have already yielded to those feelings was gone. He needed to remember that. 

“Great meeting you too, Nicole” he offered shortly.  

Raven paused as she jumped out of the SUV, turning back to him. “It’s Raven, actually.”

At his raised eyebrow, she clarified, “My real name. You said you don’t like lies, remember?” Her smile was sweet and innocent. 

“I thought that was gonna cost me another $5k?” 

She smiled playfully, a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there since she woke up. “Spending your birthday in a hospital with a girl you didn’t even know means you earned my real name for free. And where I live… don’t turn out to be a stalker creep though,” she joked. “Cause that would suck.”

He laughed. “No stalking… got it. Thanks for the two birthday gifts then, Raven.” 

She offered him one final smile and wave before she closed the door and walked into her building. 

As he drove away, he was thankful to never see her again. He would return to the comfortability of Tasha who played her role and sparked no other feelings in him but carnal lust. That was all he had room for. All those other feelings Raven elicited would fade and the beast would be locked up once again.

As Raven laid in bed, trying to force herself to rest, she could not help but think a similar refrain. She could not get him out of her head. The duality of the way he fucked her with the care and kindness he showed her after. The genuine concern he seemed to have for her. She wanted more of that, more of him. She wondered what it felt like for him to make love to a woman, and wondered how it would feel to hear him call out her real name. Wondered how it would feel to be held by him… how he took care of her, even if it was only briefly. She thought about how it must feel to be loved by him, the intensity of it must have been intoxicating. She thought back to the night before, flashes of it coming to her. If she focused, she could still feel where his hands were, like fire against her skin. 

However, she knew those fantasies were dangerous and a fool’s errand. She could not fall head over heels for her first real date. That was not the job. And maybe she would find a client of her own like him one day, but she knew she would not last long if she pinned over every man who was nice to her. She thought she had let go of her hopeless romantic phase long ago but it still resurfaced every once in a while. But Tasha was right, she would not survive in their world long wearing her heart on her sleeve. And she needed to survive, her family needed her to survive. So, she would never see the Michael B. Jordan again and she, too, was thankful. Because then she would forget about him and move on.  

She sighed as she settled into bed. Despite ending up in the ER, the night had been a success. Michael had been pleased, which was all that mattered and hopefully he relayed that to Helen. And that meant more clients, more opportunities to make money and get her life, at least financially, back on track. That’s all she needed and wanted to focus on. Anything else, fantasies of a man she could never have again, were foolish and best left for the characters she wrote in her free time. 

Sleep eluded both Michael and Raven that night as they were plagued with fantasies of each other, the person they both knew was foolish to want because they knew they could not have them. 

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii

A/N: I'm both really excited and nervous about this series so I hoped y'all enjoyed chapter 1! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[lets-go-banana-fishing]

Rating Bf characters on how well I think they would perform at their Part-time job

Y'all remember the Banana Fish part-time job artworks? Well I remembered it so now it's my job to share my unwanted opinion on all of them :)

1. Ash as Pizza delivery boy: 5/10

With Ash it just really depends on his mood

He's the fastest deliverer if he wants to

But he's also the guy to deliver your pizza with half the pizza missing and his explanation being: "sorry bro I got hungry"

Also your order will "mysteriously disappear" if you don't tip him enough

2. Shorter as Waiter: 10/10

I mean it's canon that Shorter works at Chang Dai

He wants to be the future owner of the diner so his grind is strong 💪💪

Makes the customers feel comfortable and I just feel like the vibe would be good with him.

3. Sing as Messenger Boy: 7/10

I can see him having fun at this job

Problem is when he starts to have too much fun and gets too invested in people's businesses

He's gonna know every secret in every neighborhood that's nearby

Bonus point because despite acting like he's a delivery boy from the 1900's (definitely tried to speak like them as well), he does a good job

4. Eiji as Pet Groomer: 100/10

Staff was so right for this

Puppy happiness increases by 1000%

5. Yut Lung as Beauty Advisor: 9.5/10

Okay first of all he ABSOLUTELY KNOWS what he's doing so this is an amazing job choice

Will give his clients actual helpful advice and make sure they look STUNNING

Also he definitely lets you rant about your day and will gossip with you whilst fixing your mascara

(and he absolutely calls his clients "honey" or "sweetie" so bonus point)

Minor problem is he WILL judge you if he doesn't like one of your requests and he WILL let you know

6. Blanca as Bartender: -1000/10

I do not trust this man with my drink.