#i'm sorry but poker face could never

[murasaki-cha]

So I finally got to watch the new pjo episode and I can confidently say that "What is love" by Haddaway suddenly playing in the background during the tunnel of love ride is possibly the best thing to has ever happened in my 20 years of life

I am deceased actually, I died from asphyxiation because I laughed so hard, this is my ghost posting this

[wordsarelife]

—the alchemy

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge reader

summary: you always had a thing for jj, while you thought he had a thing for kie. you couldn't have been more wrong..

warnings: none i think

notes: i have absolutely no clue how to play poker, so please don't grill me lmao

the water glistened, reflecting the afternoon sun. you dunked your feet inside, hanging from the bridge you were sitting on. it was lightly moving due to the waves beneath it.

you kept your eyes trained on the horizon, but looking at nothing in particular.

jj came running from the shore, sitting down beside you, letting his feet dangle into the water next to yours. "john b is making food"

"what could he possibly be making?" you smiled, clearly knowing that there wasn't much left in the pantry. you got through the day alright, thanks to both of you working, but you didn't buy any extraordinary things to make sure you had enough money to pay everything else.

“we’re having toast,” jj smirked, then paused for dramatic effect. “but we raided heyward’s for tomatoes, and kiara brought guac from her mom. so it’s fancy toast.”

“fancy toast! the ritz could never.” you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, but a smile crept up on your lips.

"what are you even doing out here alone?"

"i'm thinking"

"about your dad?" jj asked carefully. "you know I’m here if you need to spill. no judgment. not even if it’s super depressing.”

"thanks, i know" you were thankful that you had such great friends. people that were like family to you and always made sure you were alright, even if they didn't have much to give themselves, apart from kiara.

"are you going to surf the surge tomorrow?" jj changed the topic, interpreting your silence as answer enough.

"heard agatha's gonna be a bitch" you shrugged. "must be nice to lose a few unnecessary limbs"

"don't be ridiculous, i'm a pro" jj took the sunglasses off his head and pushed them on your nose instead. "are you coming or not?"

"i prefer not to" you giggled, slapping his hand away as he tried to readjust the rest of your apperance. "gonna look good for cps"

"they won't even make it out here, agatha will arrive too soon for that"

"well, then i should be thanking her, right?" you looked up to the sky, the sun still breaking through the slowly arriving clouds, but the darkness of them made it evident that it wouldn't take too long for the storm to arrive. "thanks aggy! sorry for calling you a bitch"

"if that isn't nice" jj grinned. "look at you! such a polite lady"

"told you i could behave better than you" you stood up and waited for him to do the same. "i'm pretty sure they just told you to go and get me not to wait out until they had finished the food, right?"

"caught me" jj shrugged. you knew him well enough to guess that he was trying to escape more work than necessary. "but it did take some time to find you. you weren't in the tower john b locked you in"

"oh, maybe i'm not as well behaved as we thought" you shrugged, following him back to the beach. "you need those sunglasses soon?" you liked the red tinted look of them. you had worn them before and you loved that they made you look like a hippie or vanessa hudgens going to coachella in 2014.

“keep ‘em,” jj shrugged, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “you look better in them anyway.”

you raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “how much did these cost?”

jj spun around, pretending to be offended. “whoa, whoa! don’t insult me like that. i didn’t pay for them.”

you laughed. “you stole these?”

“they were like six dollars, okay? i stole them out of principle.” he wiggled his eyebrows like that somehow made sense.

you shook your head amused. “jj, that’s still stealing.”

“nah, see, i was planning on giving them to you for a while, so really, it was a selfless act. call it proactive gift-giving.”

jj’s face lit up, the trademark smirk in place as you walked side by side back toward the beach. he kicked at the sand a little, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was waiting for you to laugh again.

you could hear the others before you saw them—john b shouting something about the toast burning, and kiara’s voice cutting through with, “how do you even burn toast?!”

“so, what’s the plan after we survive this gourmet meal?” you asked, your tone only half-teasing.

jj rubbed his hands together with a glint in his eyes. “well, after we feast on fancy toast and whatever leftovers kiara’s mom sent, i was thinking… poker.”

“poker? don’t we always lose when we play with pope?”

“yeah, but he’s working today, so we have a chance.” jj wiggled his eyebrows as if this were the best news in the world.

you laughed, shaking your head. “so, your plan is to take all my money after i generously agree to participate in poker?”

jj’s smirk deepened. “well, since you’re wearing those shades, you’re bound to win. you’ve got that poker-face-hippie thing going on.”

you shrugged, pretending to think about it. “true. i could absolutely bluff the hell out of you all.”

he nodded seriously. “exactly. so really, it’s your civic duty to play.”

“civic duty,” you repeated, laughing. “sure, sure.”

"sit down, you two" kiara ancouraged when you walked onto the patio.

"where have you been that long?" john b questioned, looking at you suspiciously. "you're always sneaking around together"

"don't be ridicilous, b" you shook your head. "we were just watching the waves"

kiara and jj exchanged glances you didn’t quite understand. it made your nerves tweak to not know what they were hinting at.

“i bet it was a sight so see” kiara said softly, a smirk on her face.

jj nodded. “as always” he shrugged, his eyes still on her.

you had to try hard not to let your face distort into jealousy. you had had a crush on jj for as long as you could remember. and the two of you were close, but nothing ever really happened with your brothers best friend.

being in love with jj was confusing. most of the time, he treated you just like anyone else, acting completely normal. but then, out of nowhere, he'd start flirting, leaving you unsure of what to think.

even though you tried your best, the crush on the boy always resurfaced when he would flirt with you once more, keeping your hopes up.

the meal continued without anything happening and you found yourselves cleaning the table to play a few rounds of poker like jj had promised.

"looks like you're in a tough spot" he grinned.

kiara had put down her cards, while you were trying hard to keep a straight face, knowing you would probably lose.

you shrugged. "i don't see you putting down anything valuable, maybank"

"ohh" kiara and your brother hollored at the same time.

"well, let's see then" kiara nudged jj's shoulder.

the blonde smirked before he revealed his cards to you, flushing a street. "you've underestimated me, guys"

john b and you sighed simultaneously, accepting defeat as you threw your own cards in the middle. while jj was busy mixing the cards, kiara took a look at her phone.

"i think i better head out" she smiled, standing up from her chair. "my mother's gonna go crazy if i'm late again"

you played a few more rounds after the girl had left, john b and you losing to jj each time. you were sure he had gotten help from pope, knowing that his time would come.

john b threw down his cards after one more uneventful round. "i'm heading to bed" he nodded, pulling his snapback down, before he highfived jj and pressed a kiss to your hair. "don't stay up too late"

"night, b" you smiled as you watched after him.

"one more round?" jj giggled.

"i'm all out" you shrugged, pointing at the pile of money on the table in front of him.

"well, if i lose you can have all of it"

"this sounds almost too good" you muttered. "okay, what if i lose then?"

"you'll take off your shirt" he shrugged.

"jj!" you pushed a hand to your mouth, draining out the scream of outrage that threatened to errupt in the air between you.

"what?" jj smirked, looking up at you with wide blue eyes. "am i making you nervous?"

"not a chance," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering in your chest. jj's smirk widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he shuffled the cards one more time.

"alright then," he said, dealing the cards smoothly. "prove it."

you glanced at your hand, trying to keep your expression neutral. jj's eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you intently, and you couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not.

you took a deep breath and played the first card, trying to focus on the game instead of the way jj was watching you like a hawk.

the next few minutes were tense, each of you placing cards with care. it was almost suffocating.

"you're really dragging this out, you know that?" you muttered, glancing up at him.

jj just grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "patience, sweetheart. good things come to those who wait," he replied, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the slight tug at the corners of your mouth.

finally, it came down to the last card. you had one left in your hand, and so did jj. your eyes met, the room silent except for the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitated for a split second, then threw down your card.

jj's eyes flickered to the table, his face breaking into a triumphant grin. he laid his final card down with a laugh.

"looks like i win," he drawled, his voice smug. your eyes widened as you stared at the cards, disbelief washing over you. how did he keep doing this?

"you've got to be cheating," you grumbled, pushing back from the table. jj laughed, the sound warm, filling the quiet night air around you.

"well, you agreed to do this" he shrugged, like he was completely in the right.

you looked at him without any expression on your face, before you sighed, your fingers dipping down to meet the material of your shirt, as you stood up.

jj's eyes widened at your movement, standing up at the same time. "it was a joke, y/n" he muttered quickly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to"

you halted in your movement. "if you had won, would you have given me the money, like you promised?"

"of course" jj answered without so much as a thought.

your smile deepend, before your fingers gripped the hem of the shirt, pulling it over you head in a quick motion. revealed was your bikini top. the one jj had seen you in a million times, but still his eyes widened even further.

jj's mouth opened slightly, his usual cocky demeanor vanishing as he stared at you. he remembered seeing you in it before, but this still felt different. maybe it was the intimacy of the dimly lit patio, or the way you stood before him now, your eyes steady and unwavering. you had called his bluff, and he was utterly speechless.

"see?" you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the rapid thudding of your heart. "no big deal. just a bikini, jj."

he swallowed hard, finally snapping out of his daze. "right," he said, his voice cracking slightly. he cleared his throat, his gaze darting away before quickly finding its way back to you. "just a bikini."

you walked around the table, pushing yourself between him and the discarded chair. "this can't really be the reason you're so uneasy"

you tried to read the emotion on his face, but he just looked at you, at a loss for words. you softly pushed your hand to rest against his chest. your eyes widened in surprise. "your heart is racing" you declared with a soft whisper.

"yeah" jj finally found his words. "you're so close"

you looked up at him, surprised at what he was hinting at. "i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable" you tried to step back, but his hand shot out, holding you in place by your elbow.

"jj" you muttered, your voice barely audible. you could feel your heart beat just as fast as his did.

"have i ever told you how beautiful you are?" jj's voice was soft and tender, like he was trying not to disrupt the calmness of the moment.

"no" you sighed, unsure. he came closer, your noses were almost touching. his eyes were ready to close, not far from kissing you. your voice rung out before he could do anything of that sort. "what about kie?"

"what?" jj blinked in surprise, stepping backwards.

"what about kie?" you repeated a little bit louder.

"what about her?" jj laughed, before he saw the confusion in your eyes.

"i thought there was something—“

"between me and kie?" he smiled, shaking his head. "well only that she knew about my crush on you"

"you have a crush on me?"

"i thought it was kinda obvious" he pointed a finger between the both of you. "can i please finally kiss you now, routledge?"

you smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest at his confession. "of course" you watched him step closer once more, before you grinned. "but what about—?"

"—oh would you shut up now?" he pushed his lips against yours, drowning out your giggle as your smile touched his mouth like it was supposed to.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.

CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.

Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.

The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing. 

If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin. 

One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club. 

 The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about. 

Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met. 

The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud. 

After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.

As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me. 

On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home. 

Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it. 

Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again. 

Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.

Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.

  When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.  

You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone. 

Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste. 

Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time. 

She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”

You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement. 

You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”

His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”

You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.

“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”

Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”

He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants. 

“You can’t even say it.” He challenges. 

You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive. 

“I can too!” 

He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?” 

You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”

“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.

“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.” 

Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”

Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?” 

Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.

His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.” 

You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.” 

He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”

“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”

You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”

Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”

 “I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated. 

“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.” 

He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.” 

Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle. 

It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask,  “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”

You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?” 

“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours. 

His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”

He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”

Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”

He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.” 

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.” 

Joel

The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.

His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream. 

Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.   

His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.  

His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”

Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.” 

Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years. 

“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”

Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo. 

“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”

Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him. 

You 

You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night. 

Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!” 

“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

“You sound like you're out of breath.” 

You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.” 

Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”

“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.” 

“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs. 

“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?” 

She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”

“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?” 

“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”

You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?” 

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 

“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.” 

“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!” 

“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”

“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.

“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes. 

Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.  

Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops. 

You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself. 

The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.

As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile. 

Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo. 

As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man. 

You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning. 

Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.  

From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.

Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” 

You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve. 

On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it. 

Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.

When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear. 

After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.    

You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.

You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in. 

Spanking, five. 

Whips and Crops, five. 

Paddles, five. 

Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point. 

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 

Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel. 

The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied. 

Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”

You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.

A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours. 

“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.

Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.

The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”

Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”

A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.

“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”

Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”

You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you. 

“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call. 

“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.

“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears. 

“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”

Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs. 

Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller. 

His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel. 

“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.

“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.

He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.

“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.

“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”

As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?

The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.

Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”

He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”

You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”

“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”

You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”

Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.

Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”

You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”

“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”

This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”

Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”

“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”

He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”

His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”

He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”

You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”

Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”

You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”

Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”

“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.

He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his. 

“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”

He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”

The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.

He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”

Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault  the inside of your stomach.

You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.

“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips. 

“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you. 

“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.

Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”

Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on. 

His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently. 

“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”

He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”

With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives. 

You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.

Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging. 

His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”

He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”

He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table. 

“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.

You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”

It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”

You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.

You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms. 

You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.

“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”

Next Chapter

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ kinktober 2024 ୨ৎ

welcome to my first kinktober! bellow you'll find prompts i've come up with + one that was commented on a post i made about this very same subject.

if you want to be tagged, tell me! i update this post everytime i finish one of the prompts with some details.

୨ৎ WEEK 1: LET'S PLAY PRETEND ୨ৎ

OCT 1ST strip poker with sir crocodile

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

OCT 3TH somnophilia with kento nanami

title: sweet dreams synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [1.5K] cw: established relationship, service top!reader, somnophilia, body worship, nipple stimulation, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), choking (gn!receiving), hair pulling, overstimulation.

OCT 5TH incest with karlach

title: a small favor synopsis: a movie night turned into you being a good girl for your older sister. if only she had warned you of what it truly meant. [1.1K] cw: t!karlach, plus size!reader, incest, lil sis/big sis, dub con, gaslighting, obssessive behavior, apologetic, spit, dry humping, pussyjob, premature ejaculation.

୨ৎ WEEK 2: MONSTERS AND LESBIANS DESERVE LOVE TOO ୨ৎ

OCT 6TH monster fucking with multiple monsters

title: haunted bang synopsis: when you decided to explored a haunted mansion, all you wanted was to gain more knowledge for your grimoire. you never expected it to be habited, even less for all the residents to agree that sharing is caring. [2.4K] cw: wizard!reader, teratophilia, monster fucking, gangbang, voyeurism, size difference, manhandling, mind connection, scent kink, oral (females!receiving), pet play, pussy drunk, overstimulation, you know that post about "would you fuck your clone?", f in v, monsters included are a eldritch creature, a werewolf, a vampire and a shapeshifter.

OCT 8TH shower sex with namivivi

title: let it sink in synopsis: the fight was over, the war was done, but the tension was still there. watching the princess falling victim of her own mind, the navigator has to intervene. [1K] cw: established relationship, insecurity, a bit of hurt and a lot of comfort, this isn't sex it's love okay i'm sensitive about them, shower sex, masturbation.

OCT 10TH scent kink with farcille

title: animal attraction synopsis: back from the dead, falin could feel something changing inside of her. but with marcille's scent blinding her mind, she ignored the dragon and focused on the warmth coming from her friend. [0.8K] cw: the night pre-chimera, scent kink (in a dragon’s mate way), nipple stimulation, a tiny small bit of somnophilia, erotic dreams, public sex.

OCT 12TH masturbation with nico robin

title: a helping hand synopsis: there is an aspect of sailing in the grand line you failed to consider: there is no one to fuck. of course, that's only true if you ignore your crew as candidates. [0.5K] cw: sorry for the delay! reader has a little crush on luffy, masturbation, accidental orgasm denial, accidental/non-accidental voyeurism.

୨ৎ WEEK 3: REWARD SYSTEM ୨ৎ

OCT 13TH praise kink with kagaya x reader x amane

title: pretty, pretty, pretty synopsis: back from a mission, is time to remember your lovers you will always be there to take care of their every needs and desires. [1.1K] cw: sorry for the delay! established relationship, kagaya x reader x amane, dom!fem!reader, praise kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f! and m! receiving), body worship, oral (m!receiving).

OCT 15TH bondage with dark justiciar shadowheart

title: sing your prayers synopsis: to worship lady shar, one must be perfect. shadowheart will guide you, make you the best you can ever be. don't matter the cost, her teachings shall find a way into your very soul. [1K] cw: fem!reader, bard!tav, domme!shadowheart, power imbalance, memory loss, bondage, humilliation kink, temperature play, gaslighting, dacryphilia, religious imagery, Shar vs Selune.

OCT 17TH corruption kink with shan yu

title: training session synopsis: you're tired of being treated like a glass about to be shattered. if he will have you whole, than it's only fair you receive the same. [1.3K] cw: established relationship, corruption kink, finger sucking, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), cum eating.

୨ৎ WEEK 4: ANIME SEASON ୨ৎ

OCT 24TH sex pollen with kyojuro rengoku

title: milk me synopsis: usually demons' poisons just kill whoever was affected by them. this time, it served for something else. something way better. [2.1K] cw: established relationship, eye patch!kyojuro, crystal hashira!reader, sex pollen, public sex, pussy drunk, forced orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), p in v, dacryphilia, spit, nipple stimulation, accidental voyeurism (we'll say: sorry miss shinobu).

୨ৎ WEEK 5: LOVE, LOVE, LOVE ୨ৎ

OCT 27TH exhibitionism kink with ryomen sukuna

title: mine synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [0.5K] cw: established relationship, toxic couple (only towards others), exhibitionism, public sex, cockwarming.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi @miyanosm @idonthaveanameforthisacc

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[barefoothighlander]

never going back again - 02

summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup

simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of eating, nightmares, mention of alcohol, mutual pining

prev part masterlist next part

It was the calmest he'd ever been, lounging around the cottage with you near, he wasn't much for conversation but he enjoyed asking you questions, how long you'd lived there,

"3 years next month, I bought it a while back after moving here on a whim"

What you did all day,

"Garden and read, lots of painting, even more cooking"

It was all so foreign to him, the idea of living one day at a time, not worrying about the outside world or whether or not your life was in danger, he'd realized quickly that this was the first time he felt safe in years, even with the looming threat of enemies outside and the lack of contact to his team. It did occur to him that if he didn't reach out eventually he would be labelled MIA, but to a man who wasn't even legally alive, the prospect of never seeing his team again didn't worry him a bit, what did worry him was the burning smell from the kitchen.

"What are you doing in here?"

"I was trying a new recipe, it's harder than it looks" You rush to turn off the stove, quickly pulling the pan from the surface and using a towel to waft the smoke.

"I thought you were good at cooking"

"No I said I liked cooking, not that I was any good" You huff while reaching to open the small window above the sink, allowing the fumes to migrate through the opening.

He leans his hands against the table "It doesn't look that bad"

"You're a terrible liar, has anyone ever told you that"

"Most say I've got a great poker face" He tilts his head, you respond with an unamused haha,

He stands to his full height, moving towards you "Let me"

"Let you what"

"Cook, I'll make dinner"

"Anything's better than this" You nudge towards the pan of burnt food, straightening your clothes before allowing him the step to the stove. You turn to sit at the table, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease, grabbing ingredients from various spots while you point him toward the proper cabinets.

"Where'd you learn to cook?"

"Had to figure out a way to feed myself once I left home"

"They don't feed you at work?"

"They do, but it's mostly inedible, more nutrient based than anything"

"Did your mum cook?"

He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to realize the words that come from your mouth, your smile fading quickly, "I'm sorry I forgot"

"S'alright, she um, she didn't often but some Sundays she'd make a roast, best meal I ever ate"

He turns to you, his gaze soft as you smile slightly in response,

"Well let's hope her skills weren't wasted on you"

He laughs lightly, a real laugh before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the stove. You watch as he prepares the food for a few minutes, reaching across the counter to add spices,

"So what are you making?"

"I am making" He stops his sentence, turning off the stove and twisting to face you, "French toast"

"French toast?"

"I said I could cook, not that I know a lot of recipes"

You cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes creasing at the sides as he places a plate in front of you,

"Well, it smells great"

The two of you dig into the food, your gaze focused on the plate as you allow him the privacy to lift his mask up slightly, revealing his mouth, falling into a comfortable silence as you eat, Simon smiles to himself as you make a small hum of approval,

"You can't be serious"

"What'd I do?"

"That's like a cup of syrup"

"So?"

"You're teeth are going to rot from your head"

"What if they already have"

You scrunch your face at the thought, "At least it'd explain the mask"

"You don't have to turn away you know"

You make a small huh? in response,

"When I pull on my mask, I don't mind you seeing parts of my face"

"I just assumed"

"I know, but you don't have to turn away"

"Okay" Your voice is smaller, intrigue and confusion mixed into it as you nod. “How’s your cut”

“Healing, thanks to you, still tender”

“Can I” You turn your eyes to his, standing from the table to kneel by his side, his breath catches in his throat as you lower your body, your fingers inches from his stomach.

He nods lightly in permission, lifting his shirt for you and settling it on his lower stomach, your fingers pressing gently on the sides of his wound as you inspect it. His eyes stare at your face, holding back a smile as you bite your lip in concentration, you stand, turning behind to grab some new bandages from the cabinet behind you before returning to your position in front of him.

You brace your fingers against his skin, tugging at his bandage,

“Sorry”

“Doesn’t hurt”

You tilt your head to him and he’s watching you, his eyes locked on your face, your cheeks flush slightly under his stare, turning your attention towards his wound as you dress it, pressing the bandage into his skin. You let your fingers linger for a moment, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath before you slowly pull away, standing up and nodding.

“That should do”

“Thank you”

“It’s nothing”

“Thank you” He repeats in a lower, softer voice as he lets his shirt fall into place.

"Any idea when your ear thing will work again?"

"You trying to kick me out?"

"No" You widen your eyes at your quick response, "Just, want to make sure there isn't someone at home missing you"

"There isn't"

You mouth a small oh before turning your gaze toward the window, "It's late, you should rest"

"Right"

There's tension between the two of you, neither wants to leave the others company yet at the same time, neither of you will do anything about it.

"I'll see you in the morning" You smile, passing through the kitchen towards your room and closing the door, leaving Simon alone.

He wakes in a blind panic, the sky outside still dark as he blinks his eyes, turning his head towards your door, he can hear you shouting, rustling around and without thinking he enters the room. Your limbs are twisted between the sheets, jolting around as you mumble, he takes a step back as you sit up, your chest heavy.

You clutch your chest at the sight of him, lurking in the doorframe,

"You scared me"

"You were having a nightmare"

"Yeah, they happen sometimes"

It's then that you notice he's not wearing his mask, the room is dark but there's enough light for you to make out the curve of his nose,

He scratches the back of his head, "Okay" turning to leave,

"Simon"

He lazily turns his gaze back to you, responding with a small hmm.

"Will you stay, it's just"

He cuts you off, "Easier to sleep with someone beside you"

"Please"

"Of course"

You watch as he crosses the room, looming beside your bed as you pull the sheets to cover you, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he settles in. He lays awkwardly on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach, you watch his chest rise and fall, without thinking you slide your palm against it, your fingers light on the fabric of his shirt as you move closer, pressing your chest against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. He snakes an arm around you, letting you nestle against him as his hand settles gently on your arm, his touch feather-light as he tries to keep a consistent heartbeat.

You must've fallen asleep shortly after, waking to the sun streaming into the room, your limbs tangled between his, both of you had turned in your sleep, his chest now pressed against your back as his arms held snugly against your waist. You can feel his steady breath fan across your neck, his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazes your skin, he's so warm, the sheets on the bed long forgotten in your sleep and the heat coming from him is more than enough.

You reach a hand to his arm, tracing over the lines of his tattoo and you feel him tighten his grip, his stable breaths now ragged as he wakes up. It takes him a moment to realize the position he's in, his brain doing little to comprehend the situation.

"Do you have something in your pocket?"

He pulls from you instantly, jolting upwards and turning around as you giggle,

"M'sorry" His voice is groggy, his accent thicker than usual.

"It's fine"

He keeps his gaze away from you, anxiously stretching his limbs before you realize,

"I'm gonna shower, I'll turn away so I don't"

"Thank you"

You can only see the back of his head, his blonde hair that's a mess, the outline of his head as he nods, shaking your thoughts as you move out of the room.

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hoping that he didn't get a chance to see you that morning either, your hair was everywhere, the skin under your eyes dark from your usual lack of sleep as you strip your pyjamas, turning on the faucet.

You stand in the warm water, letting it wash over you, hoping it would calm your rampant thoughts as you hear Simon moving around behind the door.

You step out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel and smoothing your hair back before opening the door, the steam wafting from the small room into the house.

“Where’s the kettle?”

“Top left cabinet”

You stand in the doorway, your hands squeezing the water from your hair as you look at him,

“Thanks”

He turns quickly to you and his body freezes, his eyes glued to your practically naked form as you stand, the beads of water dripping from your warm skin.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yep, just making tea”

“Okay, bags are in the lower cupboard”

He nods awkwardly, furrowing your brows at him before turning around, he lets out a heavy breath as you leave, leaning back against the counter as he drops his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Shit” He mumbles to himself, adjusting his pants feeling them grow tighter as his mind runs circles around the sight of you, replaying the way your fingers traced over his skin, and scent of your hair as he rested his head against yours. He was awake most of the night, listening to you breath, smiling lightly as you mumble about nothing, you were soft, he’d never had soft before always jagged and dark.

His mind snaps back as you call from the other room,

“Are you any good at fixing things?”

“Depends, what needs fixing”

“The shutters outside, they’re falling apart”

“I could give them a look”

You appear in the entry, smiling at him, now clothed with your hair pulled back, he just watches you in awe, the fact that you could look so perfect no matter the circumstances, you could be caked in mud and still make his heart flutter.

The two of you sit for tea and chat about nothing, asking more questions that he dodges while you openly answer everything he had wondering about.

“I think you’re his new favourite”

Simon makes a small huh before you nudge your head toward his feet, the small cat nestling itself against his calf.

“Strange”

“He’s not strange”

“Not him just, I’ve never had a cat do this”

“Well get used to it”

He smiles under his mask, he could get used to this, spending his days with you, cooking and drinking tea, just enjoying each others company around the house.

“The shutters”

You set your cup down, nodding at him, “There’s some tools in the shed outside, not sure what’s left but maybe they’d help”

“I’ll get right on it then”

It was sweltering outside, the sun beaming down without a cloud in the sky as Simon tries to navigate his way around fixing the shutters. You see him through the window, his arms flexing as he unscrews some things and nails in others, you had no idea what he was doing but he looked good.

I’m hot, he must be hot you fan yourself with your hand, pulling the hair from your sweat glistened neck, eyes darting around the kitchen before an idea clicks in your head.

“Beer”

It’s the only word you can manage to think of as your eyes fall on him, somewhere in the last few minutes he’d stripped himself of his shirt, tucking the loose material into the belt of his pants as his sweat dripped down his skin.

“Cheers, love one”

Your throat dries, nodding as you extend a n arm toward him, the cold glass of the drink transferring to his grip as he tips it towards you in thanks, turning around to lift his mask slightly before taking a sip. Your eyes trailing down his muscled form, roaming over every ridge of his stomach before moving back up.

“Must be hot with the mask”

“Get used to it”

You take a few gulps of your own drink, running the glass across your skin in an attempt to cool yourself. He turns his gaze back to you, watching as you let the beverage run across your skin, leaving a trail of drips behind, he can’t tell if you’re teasing him or this is just how you act naturally.

“How’s it looking”

“Great”

“So you’re almost done”

“Huh?” His eyes pull back to yours,

“Are you almost done, it’s getting unbearable out here”

“Yeah, nearly there”

“Great, I’ll be inside”

The rest of the evening was calm, the two of you doing your best to stay cool in the small cottage as the sun set over the horizon, deciding on cooking something that didn’t involve the use of heat, settling on sandwiches for dinner.

“Mind if I shower, I’m covered in sweat”

“Yea of course” Your mind floods with the sight of his bare form, thankful that the hot air masked the flush of your cheeks, “Towels are in the washroom”

He nods, standing from the table to move toward the shower, closing the door behind him before turning it on. You blow out a long breath, bracing your hands against the table before turning your head at the sound of him wincing,

“You alright?” You call

“Yeah, just sore”

“Well hurry up, I’ll check your stitches”

You sit impatiently as he showers, nervously tidying the kitchen as you wait, your chest fluttering as you hear the shower turn off.

“Figured it’s easier if I just put my shirt on later”

He must be doing this on purpose, once again your eyes roam his form, his sweat replaced by dripping water as his freshly cleaned skin draws your attention,

“Sure, easier”

He sits on the couch, leaning back and positioning his arm against the top to allow you a better view to his stitches, to your surprise they’re doing well, no inflammation or bleeding, they look good.

“S’good, should be able to take them out soon”

“Great”

“Might leave a scar”

“Adds to the collection”

You pass your gaze over the skin of his chest, littered with scars, some small and others long, some old and some new.

“I’m fine”

“I know you are”

“It only hurts a little, when it happens”

“And someone did this to you”

“A few people”

“How many is a few?” You stare at him with rounded eyes,

“Nothing you need to worry about”

You soften your gaze, standing from the couch,

“I guess we should sleep now” His eyes follow your movements, he shifts in his spot trying to get comfortable,

“Simon, would you- nevermind”

“What do you need?”

“I felt bad waking you last night and I was thinking maybe, if we slept in the same bed I wouldn’t have any, you know”

“Yeah, I’d like that- you not having nightmares” He fumbles over his last words, trying to keep himself together at the prospect of once again having you close.

“Okay” You walk nervously toward your room, the simple action now feeling foreign as he trails behind you, “I’ll keep the lights off if you want”

He nods, closing the door behind him as you get into the bed, shuffling around a little before finding comfort in your position, you turn to your side but keep your eyes on him as he reaches to tug his mask off, your mind trying to piece together what he might look like behind the sharp lines of his shadowed face.

He sets himself beside you, moving an apprehensive arm under your pillow, making sure you were okay with it. You push back against him, your body perfectly slotting in front of his as his other arm settles around your waist, you hold it with your fingers, your thumb rubbing against the skin as you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

You’re asleep in no time, the warmth of the air combined with the comfort of Simon behind you lulling you into a dream while he stays up, his arms tucked against you, it was the most comfortable he’d been in years, maybe ever and be didn’t dare move, his body freezing everytime you moved a leg against him or squeezed his forearm lightly, they were like subconscious reminders that you wanted him there and it warmed his heart, melting against you as he tucked his nose against the nape of your neck, your hair brushing against his skin.

He wakes to an empty bed and a weight on his chest, opening his heavy eyes to the sight of Goliath,

“Good morning kitty”

He runs a hand across his back, smiling lightly as he purrs against his touch before he jumps off, startled by the sounds from the house. Simon quickly realizes that he’s not wearing a mask, it’s light out, and you’re not there, a small panic setting into his nerves as he stands.

He tugs on his mask and a shirt before leaving the room, pressing his side against the frame as he watches you move around the kitchen, steeping some tea while you clean up.

“Mornin”

You turn around with a wide smile, “Sleep well?” You ask, leaning against the counter,

“Best in years” He’s being honest, something about you was so comfortable, safe, he wanted to stay forever, if this was what life had in store for him then he’d accept it with open arms.

“Good, cause I think I found that wire you needed”

His heart sinks in an instant, “You did?”

“I think so, was tucked back in the drawer”

“Oh, I’ll see if it’s the right one then”

You smile, turning back to the kettle that had begun whistling as Simon panics, it was too soon, he wanted more time, he needed to figure out a way to stay longer, something good that would keep him here at least a few more days.

“The bathrooms got mold in it” It was the best he could come up with, he hated lying to you.

“Huh?” You turn with your brows furrowed,

“The bathroom, noticed it last night, I can’t fix it if you’d like”

“Are you sure, I didn’t see any”

“Easy to miss sometimes, it’s just near the drain, shouldn’t take more than a day to clean up”

“Yeah sure, just let me know what you need”

He nods, fighting back a smile of success behind his mask, excusing himself from your direct line of sight before internally celebrating, before stopping to think to himself,

Now I’ve gotta figure out how to retile a shower.

[i23kazu]

♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?

diluc

possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

childe

he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).

lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.

alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

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[saccharinesatoru]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (m)

Pairing: Gojo x reader (afab)

Genre: cowboy!gojo x bandit!reader + smut

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: You're just an innocent girl who got caught up in a crime. You've never broken the law before and are desperate to stay out of jail. Lucky for you, Sheriff Gojo has just the solution.

Warnings: language, coersion (lowkey highkey), oral (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving), degradation, praise (like if you squint), penetration (m in f), just really rough sex lmao, maybe typos idk I didn't proofread this

a/n: surprisingly,,,, I'm not dead. i am back. i saw the fanart of cowboy!gojo and never wanted to ride something so badly- and i’m not talking about a horse. oh and i also know little to nothing about cowboys or even the time period that cowboys existed in so i’m sorry if i like,,, get the cowboy lore incorrect lmao enjoy

xx Jay

---

You were fucked. And, fuck, did you know it. 

“You idiot!” you cursed, “Do you wanna die? How could you be so stupid?”

Your partner in crime (literally) turned to you with a crazed grin on his face, high on the rush. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared of some little sheriff.”

The sheriff, in question, is none other than Gojo Satoru. Not only was he the youngest sheriff in the region, but he was an incredible shot and phenomenal horseback rider. The man was known all throughout the west for his strength, wit, and impeccable skill as a marksman. And he just so happened to be the man hunting you down as you speak.  

“Am I scared? Am I scared?” you yell in disbelief, “Hell fucking yeah I’m scared! You just had to rob that bank, didn’t you? Toji, this is insane. We’re going to die, and it’s all because you wanted a little extra cash to blow at some saloon since you’re shit at cards and are always too drunk to make a reasonable gamble!”

His eyes widened at your statement, “I’m just down on my luck that’s all!” 

You roll your eyes and continue pacing around the small room, almost internally counting down the minutes until you're inevitably caught and thrown in a cell to rot. Maybe Toji could tough it out in jail (assuming he wasn’t hanged for his crimes), but you knew you weren’t cut out for that kind of life. It’s not like you meant to get caught up in this life, after all. A few bad decisions led to this nightmare of a reality, and now you were about to ride this sinking ship with the buffoon in front of you who was pushing 40 and still thought it was a good idea to devote the little cash he had on reckless gambling instead of caring for the adorable, perpetually scowling son he left behind to pursue a life of crime. 

“Don’t give me that look, doll,” his tone is sickly sweet but showing no real affection or warmth. “Don’t forget that you’re an accomplice in this crime too. Who was in the carriage waiting for me when I ran out of the bank with the cash, huh? Oh, that’s right! It was you!”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sit down and rest your head in your hands. “Don’t remind me, asshole,” you spit out, tone equally as harsh. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t know you were gonna do that shit! I owed you a favor- one favor, Toji! What, you think because I owed you one, I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the most feared sheriff in the west? Believe it or not, but I don’t want to live this way!”

He huffs and sticks a cigar in his mouth, lighting it and letting out a puff of smoke before meeting your eyes again, “Well, tough shit, doll. This is the hand you were dealt, and now you’ve gotta decide whether or not you’re gonna fold.”

You roll your eyes, sensing a migraine coming on. “Shut the fuck up with your poker references, Toji. You’re not good enough at any card game to warrant that kind of talk.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You turn around and are about to rip into him when you hear the sound of incoming horses and a voice call out, “They’re just up ahead!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toji curses as he puts out his cigar and stands up hastily. He looks around the room frantically and meets your eyes before darting out of the shared space.

“Fuck! Toji, come back!” you shout as you rush after him. You’re not all that well-versed on running from the police given you’ve literally never had a reason to do so. To say you’re relying on Toji to get you two out of this predicament is an understatement. After all, that man has committed more crimes than interacted with his own son. 

Running out of the room and following his footsteps, you exit out the backdoor. Your jaw drops to the ground at the sight in front of you. Toji sat on top of your very own horse, grabbing her by the reins and turning to you with a devilish smirk on his face. “Sorry, doll, I gotta cut ties here. ‘Can’t afford to get caught, you know? I’m sure you understand. Let me borrow your horse, yeah? I owe ya one.” 

You can’t even fully process his words, you’re seeing red with the amount of rage consuming you. Frozen in place, you watch Toji ride away on your horse, effectively abandoning the house that was about to be raided by police. 

Toji gets a fair distance away from the house before you hear the same voice yell, “There he is! You lot track him down. I’ll stay back and search the rest of the house. He had an accomplice. I’m sure they’re hiding out here somewhere.”

As soon as the man is done speaking, you hear multiple horses run off in Toji’s direction. You’re scared shitless of what’s to come. You just know the man about to search the house is the famous sheriff you had just been professing your fear of to that backstabbing bum who stole your fucking horse. Even though you know you’re thoroughly, laughably, undeniably fucked, you can’t help but laugh internally at the thought of Toji being captured by the sheriff’s men. You hope they don’t hurt your horse, although you doubt she’ll be yours much longer since you’re about to be sent off to jail. 

Cutting your losses and acknowledging defeat, you walk back into the house, ready to face the renowned sheriff. Walking back into the kitchen, your footsteps alert the man of your location, and he makes his way into the room. 

If you weren’t scared out of your mind at what’s to come, you might have started drooling, honestly. If this man weren’t known for his near superhuman abilities, he would have been known for his looks alone. You had never seen or even heard about a man that looked like him. He had bright white hair that peaked out from his hat. His skin was so fair and beautiful you swore he was made of porcelain. His lips were a pretty pink that somehow had a glimmering shine to them. He wore black denim with a black button up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his large hands and delectable arm veins. For a reason unknown to you, he wore a blindfold over his eyes. You could only wonder what his eyes looked like, although you imagined they were as beautiful as the rest of him. 

He looked unreal. This whole situation felt unreal. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that you were about to be arrested let alone the fact that you were standing in a room with a man that looked like that.

“Well, well,” Gojo chuckles, “Here I was thinking Toji’s accomplice had to be some ugly brute with a tobacco addiction. But here you are instead.”

You rocked on the balls of your feet out of nerves, “I- I’m sorry to disappoint.”

He laughs fully this time. “And a sense of humor, too? What did Toji do to get you roped into this in the first place, huh?”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. It’s like he could see right through you. Was it that obvious that you didn’t live a life of crime? You suppose it’s times like this where your naturally expressive face and body language actually benefited you, as Gojo must have known about the true nature of your involvement just by the way you reacted to his presence. 

“I, um…” you tried to pick your words in a way that made you look the least guilty of committing a crime. “I only agreed to help him since I owed him a favor…”

This seemed to pique Gojo’s interest. “Oh? And what did the lying, deceitful, manipulative, gambling addict do to earn a favor from a pretty girl like you?”

Your face flushes when you process his words. Warranted and accurate insults about Toji aside, the human embodiment of perfection called you pretty. 

You must have been frozen in place for a second or two because when you blink again, Gojo is standing closer to you and leaning inward, “Are you with me, sweetheart?”

Eyes widening, you nod your head vigorously and elicit another chuckle from the man. 

“Well,” you sigh after being able to mentally calm yourself, “he helped my family in a tough situation. My mother was very sick, and Toji just so happened to have the proper remedies to heal her…”

Although you can’t see his eyes, you can tell that Gojo raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and his silence prompts you to continue.

“Believe me, I never wanted to help him out. Or, at least, when I agreed to help him, I had no idea he was gonna drag me into this mess. But I couldn’t just walk around my house and pass by my mother without thinking that, if it weren’t for that lunatic, she wouldn’t be with us anymore.”

Gojo hums and brings his hand to his chin as if in thought. “I bet your family would be pretty disappointed to see you now though, right? Doing all this for your mother is admirable, but you still committed a crime… What kind of sheriff would I be if I just let you off the hook because you told me some sob story and batted your eyelashes at me, hm?”

You didn’t know how to react to his words. Sure, he’s right, your family would be disappointed to see you in this position. You’d never gotten into any sort of trouble before- certainly never done anything illegal. 

“You thought you owed a simple favor, sure… But last time I checked, the pathway to heaven wasn’t paved with good intentions.” he tuts. “But jail time seems a little harsh, no? What do you think we can do to solve this little problem?”

Your heart is beating so hard that you wonder if Gojo could hear it from where he stood. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ve never broken the law before, and I can’t afford to leave my family and go to jail.”

“Anything, huh?” Gojo smirks and pulls down his blindfold to reveal the most striking, beautiful eyes you had ever seen in all your life. “Well, how could I turn down an offer like that?”

You almost didn’t even process his words since you were so stunned by his eyes. In your entire life, you had never seen such a bright, beautiful, magnificent shade of blue. You had seen blue eyes before, sure. But, like the rest of his appearance, his eyes looked mythical. 

“Quiet all of a sudden, huh? No ideas for your substitute form of punishment?” The young sheriff walks around you like a shark circling its prey before the bloody, inevitable attack. “You’re in luck, sweetheart, because I’ve got just the perfect penance for ya.”

Before you could get out a word, he’s behind you and pulling you flush against his firm chest. You let out a soft squeak at the sudden sensation and move to bring your hand to your mouth to prevent any other embarrassing noises from spilling out. Gojo notices your timid movement and quickly wraps an arm around you.

“Nuh uh,” he says in a sing-song tone, “part of your punishment is letting me hear all those pretty little noises of yours, do you understand?”

You nod repeatedly in acknowledgement and remain stiff in his hold, unsure of how to react next. You weren’t entirely dumb. Were you dumb enough to help Toji commit a crime? Yes. But you weren’t so dumb that you didn’t understand what Gojo was hinting at with his little punishment “substitution”. The thought was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. If you had a stronger constitution, you might have just denied Gojo and accepted jail time instead. But, here you were, helpless in his arms and doing your damnedest to keep from embarrassing yourself any further.

Gojo runs his free hand from the top of your shoulder all the way down to your hips. “Such a soft, dainty thing, aren’t ya? Caught up in all of this and so, so desperate for a way out… It’s no wonder why Toji played with you like the toy you are…”

You shiver in his hold. 

“You see, my eyes can be quite sensitive. But now that my blindfold is off…” he leans in closer and inhales against your neck, taking in your sweet scent that he could practically smell the nerves radiating from. “I’ve got a better view of this pretty, little toy. And I’m just dying to play with her.”

He removes the arm from around your waist and begins to unbutton your flannel at a leisurely pace that has you both shaking in your boots (quite literally) while also wishing he’d hurry up and just rip the shirt open completely.

“Never wanted Toji to…” you pause, embarrassed to finish your sentence.

Gojo continues to undress you and just hums against your neck while his long fingers continue their work. “Never wanted Toji to… what, sweetheart?”

You swallow, “Never wanted Toji to… to play with me.”

The young sheriff raises his eyebrows and sports his signature smirk, “Oh, is that so? Does that mean you want me to play with you?”

Clearing your throat, you nod once more, “I’m just trying to follow the law, sir.”

He laughs at that and finally pulls your shirt open and off your body, revealing your bra-clad chest. “Follow the law, huh? Is that what they call it nowadays?” He removes your shirt altogether and undoes the clasp of your bra with almost concerning expertise. “Well, better late than never, I suppose. Maybe you’ve learnt your lesson already… Although, I better punish you further to make sure you don’t forget- just in case.”

Once your torso is completely bare, Gojo spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours. You let out a gasp, and Gojo’s tongue uses the involuntary noise as an invitation to push into your awaiting mouth. 

You’ve kissed your fair share of men before, though most were drunken kisses at saloons that you almost immediately regretted. Kissing Gojo was unlike anything you had ever experienced- practically everything about him was a foreign sensation, honestly. His lips alone had you feeling like you were vibrating, and the faint taste of strawberries on the tall man’s lips left you just as breathless as the kiss made you feel. 

He brings his large hands to your hair and tugs against the strands, making you moan deeper into the kiss. His lips are hungry against yours, and he eats up each and every sound you make from the smallest of whimpers to the sudden gasps. 

You reluctantly pull back for the kiss and look him in the eye, half-lidded and hazy already. “May I… touch you too?” you ask timidly. You’re hoping more than anything he’ll say yes since your fingers are itching to feel even more of him against your skin. 

His lips turn upward slowly, and he removes his hands from your hair. You let out a whine at the loss of contact, but he quickly grabs your hands and brings them to his chest. “Look at you, all polite and obedient. Better late than never, huh?”

He pulls you back into a searing kiss and you move your hands freely along his toned body. He might as well be made of marble with how firm he feels beneath you. When you bring your hands to his hair and run your fingers along the nape of his neck, he groans and brings his hands down to cup your ass which elicits a whine from you. 

He pulls away this time and before you have time to complain, your breath is taken away by the sight in front of you. He pulls open his shirt and quickly removes his belt. Once the belt is off his waist, he pulls it apart with both hands making a snapping noise. His gaze falls to your hands and you wordlessly offer them to the sheriff. He makes quick work binding your wrists with the fabric. “Just like the handcuffs I’ll save for Toji,” he grins and unbuttons his pants. “On your knees for me, honey.”

You fall to the floor, too hungry for him to worry about looking desperate. He chuckles at your reaction and pushes his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs up and slaps his toned stomach.

Although your sexual experience was next to nothing, you knew that Gojo’s cock had to be the prettiest one in the world. You didn’t even need to see another man’s physique to make that conclusion. Hell, you were never the overtly sexual type, but Gojo’s cock basically had you drooling. 

He laughs at your hungry expression. “See something ya like, sweetheart?” 

You nod quickly at his question which draws another chuckle from him. “Well, don’t keep me waiting then. Open that mouth of yours and let’s see if it’s as good at sucking me off as it is at getting you out of trouble.”

You eagerly dive in and wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Fuck. He tastes as good as he looks. 

Moaning at the flavor on your tongue, you continue to suck on the tip as if it were your favorite candy. He groans at the sensation but breathes out, “I know you can do better than that, pretty girl. You don’t wanna end up in jail, do you?”

Your eyes widen at the statement, and you quickly take him deeper in your mouth. Bobbing your head quickly, you try to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. No matter how much you hollow your cheeks or hold your breath, you can’t manage to fit him all in your mouth. 

How could you? He’s massive. 

To say he’s bigger than any man you had ever been with before doesn’t do justice to how large his cock is. Even when you force him in your mouth to the best of your ability, you’re not even halfway down his length. Every now and then, you keep wanting to reach up and wrap your hands around him before you remember they’re restrained by his belt.

That doesn’t keep you from sucking as if your life depended on it- which it pretty much does. 

Gojo pulls your hair back in a makeshift ponytail and pushes your head down deeper. “Come on, sweets. Take it allll the way.”

You choke around his cock and tears well up in your eyes. Gojo begins to fuck into your mouth and groans loudly, the sounds echoing throughout the empty house. You really wish Gojo would have taken off your pants before you began sucking him off since you feel the increasing discomfort of wetness between your legs confined by denim. 

“Between you and me,” Gojo huffs between moans as he picks up his pace, “I’m glad that Toji didn’t get to see you like this. A dick like him doesn’t deserve a mouth like yours.”

Your eyes roll back at his comment. Desperate for some relief, you rub your thighs together and hope that the friction will alleviate some of the pressure. The young sheriff notices your movement and scoffs. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you some manners? Rubbing those thighs together like some common whore at the saloon?”

You let out a muffled whine at the comment. His words go straight to your cunt and only make you wetter than you already were. He laughs again as if he could sense the impact his words had on you. 

The tears in your eyes begin to spill down your cheeks as the speed of his hips increases even more. “Is that tight little throat of yours ready, sweetheart?”

You try your best to nod despite his massive cock ramming into your open mouth. His breath quickens before he groans loudly and hot cum shoots down your throat. You can help but moan at the sensation too. Your jaw was sore, but the taste of him was definitely worth the discomfort. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Gojo tuts, “Don’t swallow just yet, pretty. Let me see that mouth I just filled.”

Looking up at him with wide eyes, you show him the contents of your mouth and frantically bring your fingers to your lips when some of his cum begins to dribble down your chin. Gojo chuckles at the sight and gently closes your mouth. “Go ahead and swallow every drop, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he smirks. 

You greedily swallow the salty substance and even open your mouth again to show him you had done what he asked. 

“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” Gojo smiles. “But we’re not through with your punishment just yet, pretty. Up against the counter.”

You clumsily rise from the floor and stumble to the counter. Your eagerness makes the man laugh. Once against the hard surface, Gojo bends you over and reaches around to unbutton your pants. Your efforts to contain your excitement don’t go unnoticed by the sheriff as he catches you rubbing your thighs together once more which just makes his cock grow hard once more. 

When he finally pushes down your pants and panties to the floor, he stares at your pussy for what feels like ages. Instinctively, you begin to close your thighs out of shyness. “Oh, no you don’t, sweetheart.” He firmly shoves your legs apart once more. “You’re gonna stay nice and still while I play with this pretty pussy. And if you wanna be a brat instead, then I’d be more than happy to give you this punishment down at the station. Would you and this soaking cunt like an audience?”

“No! No, I’m sorry,” you speak quickly, “I’m just not used to men…touching me there.”

Gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, “You mean that no man has ever done… this?” He runs a digit against your folds and you squeak at the feeling. 

“Or… how about this?” Gojo licks a long stipe up your cunt that has you squealing involuntarily. You shake your head as heat rises to your cheeks. The sheriff hums at the revelation. 

A pretty little slut like you hasn’t had her equally pretty pussy played with before? 

It must be his lucky day. 

“Guess you’re in for a treat then, darlin.” Gojo dives right in with his tongue, and you’re unable to conceal your loud moans even if you tried. The way he flicks his tongue against your clit has you practically seeing stars. None of your past sexual partners had ever taken the time to prioritize your pleasure. And after so many disappointing hookups, you ultimately gave up on sex altogether. 

But this changed everything. 

The way his tongue sucked and licked your sopping pussy was nothing short of magic. You had no idea you could even feel this good until now. Gojo’s tongue against your cunt made up for every underwhelming hookup you had ever had. And now that you know what it feels like, you’re hooked. 

“Fuck,” you whine, “That feels so fucking good. Please don’t stop, sheriff.”

The man hums against your pussy and suddenly pushes a finger inside you. You cry out a wanton moan at the sensation and barely have time to adjust before he shoves another digit inside. The two fingers piston in and out of you at a rapid pace. Gojo pulls away from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

“My, what a dirty mouth you’ve got,” Gojo teases. “Maybe I’ll have to fuck that mouth of yours again just to clean it.”

You instinctively tighten around his fingers over his comment and he emits a loud laugh. “Your cunt is so honest. You don’t even have to speak, because this pretty pussy talks for herself.”

He removes both fingers from you and instead uses them to rub your clit as he shoves his tongue back into your pussy once more. The coupled sensation of his fingers and his tongue has your eyes rolling back and your hands balling tightly into fists. 

Finally snapping out of your daze and able to speak, you whine out, “I’m so close, Gojo. Please let me cum.”

Gojo pulls away for just a second to command, “Cum all over my tongue like the dirty whore I know you are.”

Your scream rings throughout the house as your climax crashes upon you. Your legs are shaking so badly that you almost collapse, and it feels as if electricity is in your veins with the buzz you feel. 

Barely comprehensive, you whimper as Gojo removes his tongue and fingers. Although you can barely stand and would undoubtedly fall to the floor if he continued his attack on your pussy, you already missed the feeling more than you’d like to admit. 

When you finally snap out of your orgasmic daze, you feel Gojo pressed against your backside. 

Fuck. 

If Gojo felt big in your mouth, he felt fucking gigantic against your pussy. It’d be like ramming a train through a keyhole. But even though you knew he’d fuck you within an inch of your life, you felt more arousal trickle down legs just at the thought of it.

He grabbed your hips firmly and lined up the head of his cock against your lips. Dragging his cock up and down your slit, he spread your arousal. 

“Please no teasing,” you beg. “If I have to wait any longer, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Gojo clicks his tongue, “If I weren’t just as eager to fuck this tight little pussy, I’d give you another punishment for being so damn bratty and impatient.”

Clenching his jaw, he slowly pushes the tip in and hisses at the feeling on your warm walls. You can’t help but gasp at the penetration. He’s only stuck the tip in, yet it feels huge. 

After only a moment of keeping the tip within your heat, he all but shoves the rest of his cock inside your weeping pussy. Gojo leans over your back and groans in your ear and you all but scream at the intrusion. 

Before you have time to catch your breath, Gojo begins jackhammering into your cunt at a brutal pace. Tears quickly form in your eyes and drool spills from your lips. He’s just began fucking you and you’re already cockdrunk. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” He moans loudly. “How are you so fucking tight?”

You’re unable to form words as he pistons his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the house, and you have no doubt that people would be able to hear you all the way from the end of the street. His grunts and groans harmonize with your moans and whimpers. 

He uses one hand to gather your hair and pulls you against his chest. “This is supposed to be a punishment, but look at you,” Gojo grunts. “You’re loving this. You may look the part, but that good girl routine is all an act. Once a whore, always a whore.”

All you can do is whine at his words, unable to form words to respond with. Gojo laughs at the dumb look on your face. 

“What’s that saying? “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time”. And, honey?” Gojo says between moans. “I’m gonna enjoy taking my time with you.”

Beyond what you thought possible, his thrusts increase in their intensity. He’s hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. To say you feel him in your guts doesn’t even come close to describing the sensation. All you know was that you had never felt so full in your entire life. 

“Gojo!” you cry out after a particularly rough thrust. 

The man smiles with a crazed look in his eye. “Oh? Pretty girl can talk now? I must not be fucking you hard enough then.” 

He reaches his hand around your waist and begins furiously rubbing little circles on your clit which has you screaming at the top of your lungs. Your brain was fried at this point. All you could think about was Gojo, Gojo, Gojo…

In your fucked out haze, you tried to maintain your hold on the counter since your legs were going to give out any second now (and Gojo’s grip on your hair was the main source holding you up). The counter top beneath you was covered in your tears and drool, and your bound hands could hardly get a grip on the surface. 

Gojo just continued his aggressive pace as he clenched your hair tightly in his hand. “The idea of Toji trying to get a piece of you just makes me sick,” He spits out. “As if a pathetic criminal like him deserves to feel this cunt.”

Even though nothing romantic or sexual ever transpired between you or Toji, Gojo practically saw red at the mere thought of the older man ever touching you. Though your paths hadn’t crossed officially until this point, Gojo can’t imagine any other man laying a hand on you. Insanely enough, he sped up the speed of his fingers in jealously over the hypothetical situation. 

“G-Gojo, I can’t-” you attempted to string together words. “S’too much.”

He coos in mock sympathy, “Aw, baby can’t take it?”

You just whine in response, so out of your mind with how deep he is inside of you. 

“Well, that’s too bad, sweetheart,” He grunts. “Because this lesson’s not over with just yet.”

Unable to keep your head up, you let it slump down as far as Gojo’s grip on your hair will allow. And just when you think (as much as you even can think with him pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy) the feeling couldn’t get any stronger, Gojo’s tip hits that one spot that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, my god! Fuck, Gojo!” you sob. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t take anymore! I’m gonna cum!”

He continues to ram against your G-spot over and over again until you’re sure your brain is melting. “Go ahead and cum all over cock. Be a good slut for me and show me that you’ve learnt your lesson.”

When the coil in your stomach breaks, you scream at the top of your lungs and squirt all over Gojo’s cock, soaking both of your jeans. You don’t even get a second to recollect the broken pieces of your brain because Gojo continues to fuck you like it’s his last day on Earth. 

“Fuck, did you just soak my jeans, sweetheart?” He half laughs, half groans. Quickly approaching his climax too, he clenches his jaw and furrows his eyebrows. “I’m gonna fill you up, and you’ll tell me what you learnt from this punishment as my cum is dripping out of you.” 

His words go in one ear and out the other. All his words sound like gibberish to you. You feel like you’re going to pass out if he continues at this rate. 

Gojo swears and his hips stammer before he shoots ribbons of cum into your tight pussy. You swear you feel your stomach begin to bloat with the amount he gives you. 

Your body goes limp against Gojo’s, and he holds you up before you collapse. You both whine when he pulls out, and he watches in awe as his cum trickles out of your messy cunt and runs down your shaking legs. 

You’re still on cloud 9 (no, you’re on cloud 100 at this point), and to say your vision is blurry is an understatement. No amount of booze at the saloon could have you drunk like this. 

“Gojo,” you practically slur.

Still out of breath, he manages to laugh at your thoroughly fucked out state, “I know, sweetheart, I know. Look at that cunt, all pretty and sloppy with my cum. Whatta sight for sore eyes…”

He turns you around to face him and holds on to your weakened form. 

“Now,” he begins. “What did you learn from your punishment?”

He could have asked you for your own name and you wouldn’t know the answer. He might as well have filled your skull with cum the way not a single thought was swimming around in your brain.

“I…sorry…” you stutter in confusion. “And Toji…”

Gojo sighs condescendingly. Even though he asked the question, he knew you’d never be able to answer. That was the goal all along. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart… But that wasn’t the answer I was looking for,” Gojo sighs with a mocking pout to match yours. He pulls you closer and you snap out of your daze with widened eyes as you feel his hardened cock once more. “I guess I’ll just have to teach the lesson again.”

---

lmao uhhh yeah there we go if you made it this far thanks for reading <3

taglist: @browniebigga @ourfinalisation @idolingalong

[itsagoodluckkiss]

Lost Time

Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader

WC: 2K

Warnings: Mutual pining, idiots in love, just pure fluff, no use of Y/N

A/N: Finally coming out from my hole to work on the requests I have neglected for so long. It was a rough couple of months, I'm juggling work, school and the problems that come with existence, so please be kind. English is not my first language, so sorry if this is all over the place at times. This is a request from my lovely @macbethsymphony, I love you so much, beautiful. I combined the two ideas and I really hope you'll at least enjoy it. Also forgive me for not making it suggestive, fluff suited it better I think. 💕

"Hiya 💕 Can I request something? I’m really craving some Zoro fluff 👉👈 I was thinking of something along the lines of kind of an accidental confession? Like the reader accidentally says they find him handsome but quickly and casually brushes it off (out of embarrassment but they’ve got a good poker face) but it sticks in his mind for days. Or maybe something about insomniac alone time in the crows nest? Idk I’ll let you chose what you prefer (if you decide to go for it that is because absolutely no pressure!!!) I’ll also let you decide if you wanna make it suggestive :3 whatever feels best for the story! Anyways love you ✨"

If anyone had said to you two years ago that you’d find your forever family on a pirate ship, you would have laughed at their face. Sometimes, when you lay in your bed at night, you still can’t comprehend the fact that you’re surrounded with such unique and amazing people. Despite the hardships and pain you had endured, you would never exchange the loving bond you had with your friends, each one holding a special place in your heart. But one of those bonds was slightly different.

It was slightly unbelievable how you had hit it off instantly with the swordsman of the crew, ever since they picked you up from your small island town back in the East Blue. Zoro’s your partner in crime, the person closest to you, the one you’d always trust with your hopes and fears. Even in moments of weakness, he was the person who managed to make you get it together. And somehow in return, you had managed to crack through his hard shell, gaining his trust and respect. Υour cheeky and bubbly personality appealing to his nonchalant character, making him smile whenever you were around, whenever you’d spend time together.

In the battlefield, you two were a force to be reckoned with. You always had his back, literally, watching out for enemies’ sneak attacks, him always protecting you when you were down, cutting down on anyone who dared to touch you. And that’s why Zoro never went easy on you during training, always wanting you to give you a challenge so you’d be in your best shape when in need. You appreciated that he never judged you based on gender, but sometimes, you wish he would relax, both for your sake and his.

It was the following days of a particularly rough battle; your bodies were still recovering from the wounds you sustained. You were in the crow’s nest, trying to keep up with his quick moves, the muscles of your legs straining as you deflected his attacks. Honestly, you couldn’t understand how this man could move with those dreaded wounds on him, but here he was, almost kicking you off your feet.

“Don’t lose your focus.”

Your eyes met his as you panted, trying to find your breath, fists raised in the air, sweat running down your forehead. You glanced down his body, your eyes widening when you saw the red streak on the bandages that covered his waist. You relaxed your stance immediately, going towards him to make him sit down the bench.

“Stupid bastard, you reopened your wound!”

“It’s nothing, don’t hover over me, we shouldn’t stop.”

“Shut up and sit still, let me see.”

You unwrapped the bandages around him, flinching when the slash on his ribs was visible to you. You grabbed the first aid kit from across the room. Chopper had insisted there would be one in every room because according to him, he may be a reindeer, but he may not always be able to treat all of you animals simultaneously. You sat beside Zoro on the bench. Disinfecting the wound got you a slight, almost silent hiss from him.

“You’re lucky the stiches haven’t reopened.”

“See? It’s nothing, no need to fuss.”

“You know, I only joined you today because I wanted to stop you eventually. You shouldn’t strain your body like that, Zoro. You should give it time to heal.”

You were careful with your moves, applying the ointment your doctor had made, cleaning the skin around his wound and then got the sweat off his abs before you wrapped fresh bandages around him. You were the only person besides Chopper that Zoro allowed to tend to his wounds. You had to admit that it made you feel special. It also gave you a chance to touch that body that felt like it was sculpted by the gods. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you never starred at him when he wouldn’t look, or how your heart thumped in your chest whenever he was too close. You had come to peace with your feelings of love for the swordsman, and you had come to peace with the fact that you’d never say a word about them. They wouldn’t be reciprocated anyways, so why would you ruin your friendship over them?

Right now, you had him in your arms, and it was enough. Rubbing the tension off his shoulders, his back laying against your chest, sighing in relief. His guard was down when you two were alone, allowing himself some sort of vulnerability, trusting in you to keep that side of him to yourself. His chiseled back, bare and clean from scars, laid in your display. His eyes were closed and you could see with the corner of your eye his facial features slowly relaxing. Your mind was racing, how you wanted to smother that beautiful face of his with kisses. You were smiling to yourself, not realizing you were thinking out loud.

“You’re so handsome…”

Your eyes widened for a second, breath caught in your throat, before you composed yourself as his eyes snap open to look at you, his gaze as stoic as always, not able to read what was going on in his mind.

“What?”

“I mean, you’re too handsome to die from not taking care of yourself. Do better, Roronoa.”

Your mind was reeling, almost short circuiting, but you kept your cool, appearing unbothered by what you just said, although you let go of him almost immediately after. You gathered your things, ready to go die in your room from embarrassment. He rises to his feet, stretching his limbs before grabbing a tower to wipe off the remaining sweat off his forehead.

“I’m gonna go lay down. You should rest too. Promise me you won’t train more today, yes?”

A sigh of annoyance left his mouth. “Okay, I promise you. Happy?”

“Yes. I’ll see you later.”

~

He had to admit, he didn’t expect your compliment. Of course, you had complimented each other’s skills and fighting in the past, but you had never made a comment about his appearance. Zoro pondered over it the next couple of days. He noticed how you had scattered almost immediately after, and even if you didn’t let your emotions take the better of you, he could sense your nervousness after that comment. He was taken aback but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by mentioning the topic. It also gave him a sense of satisfaction. He had to admit he was happy you thought about him like that. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but the weird feeling that had taken its place in his heart from the first time you joined this crew was growing stronger each passing day.

Zoro had tried to deny his emotions for a long time. But two years apart made him realize there was no point in that. The times he would catch himself thinking about you, missing you in a different way than the rest of the crew. The way his heart clenched when he saw you again. How different, even more beautiful, you were but also how it was like no time had passed when you wrapped your hands around him in glee that you were with him again. It made him see there was no denying the devotion he had for you. Yet, he didn’t want to smother you over it, making you feel awkward for not reciprocating his feelings.

But your compliment made him doubt his decision. He recounted the times he had caught you staring at him, only to turn your head away in embarrassment. Or how you always leaned on him when you were tipsy, giggling against his shoulder. And how he always held you close in those moments. What if you actually felt the same? What if you actually saw him the way he saw you, and you were afraid of the same thing he was. Rejection. Zoro was never the man that cared about people accepting him or not. But it felt different with you. A stupid need wanted you to accept him in a certain way. The way two lovers got together in those novels Robin was reading about in her spare time. Love is a strong word, but he couldn’t find a better one for his feelings.

All these thoughts were swirling in his head as he nursed his bottle of sake while keeping watch in the crow’s nest until he heard the hatch opening. And as if some divine power was watching over him, you came into the room, closing the hatch behind you.

“Knew I’d find you here.”

“I’m keeping watch, so I don’t know where else I could be.”

You both chuckled as you made your way to stand next to him, leaning on the railing.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that, yeah. I’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour.”

Zoro said nothing, instead offering you his bottle. You gingerly took it from his hand, your fingers brushing just for a second. You took a swig, looking out on the open sea. There was a full moon illuminating down on you, and no sound around you except the gentle waves against the hull of your ship. You stayed like that for a while, eyes on the vast ocean around you.

“You ever think about lost time?”

You turn your gaze in surprise when you heard him speak.

“What do you mean?”

“… Things you should have done but were late to do and you wasted time.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Zoro finally looked at you. You couldn’t read the gaze he had in his eyes but the hold he had on you would never allow you to look away.

“That two years have passed without seeing you and I still haven’t said that I thought of you every single day.”

“You… thought of me?”

You felt your heart clenching. Your eyes widen as you stared at him. Did he actually just say that? Zoro was never a man that played with his words, always blunt and straightforward. He scoffed lightheartedly, a small smile on his face at your shocked expression.

“Of course I did. And during that time, I also realized I wasted time wondering what you’d think of me while I could have spent it holding you in my arms.” He took a small pause. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

He turned his gaze to look at the sea once again while your now teary eyes were glued at him, hanging on the words that fell from his mouth, a wide smile forming on your face. It felt like a dream. A dream you regularly had in those two agonizing years you yearned to see him again.

“What are you sorry for?”

His eyes were on you again, reading your expression.

“I-”

“Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to just tell you? How much struggle it took to keep it all down?”

Your bodies were now thoughtlessly closing the distance between you, almost touching. Your hands grasped his shoulders softly while his traveled to your waist to hold you steadily in his chest.

“You should have.”

He leaned slightly, your foreheads touching. His gaze buried into yours, communicating all the feelings that both of you shared. Longing, reluctance, uncertainty and most of all, love.

“I don’t want to waste more time. May I kiss you?”

You gave him a toothy grin, a tear sliding down your face.

“Yes. Please.”

His hand cupped your cheek to wipe the tear away as his lips found yours in a sweet kiss that held no hesitation, all the unspoken words both of you hadn’t spoken in so long pouring into it. His other hand held your waist firmly against him while your lips moved in sync with a passion that couldn’t be described, as the moon shone down on you, the only witness to your link. After a moment you broke the kiss to catch your breath, smiling, his breath falling on your lips as he chuckled breathlessly, foreheads still against each other.

“You’re stuck with me now.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Zoro.”

[saddleups]

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 .

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 2.8k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . drabble , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . fighting for dominance (?) . oral ( m and f receive ) . guys its rough . explicit dirty talk . sixty nine lol . p_rn w/o plot.

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . .  james  sunderland  has  always  been  a  mystery  to  you.  after  a  long  day  on  the  road  ,  he  suggests  stopping  at  a  rundown  ,  grimy  motel  for  the  night.  the  place  is  far  from  inviting  ,  but  james  is  determined.  its  here  ,  in  this  dirty  old  motel  that  you  finally  uncover  what's  been  lurking  in  that  charming  blonde  head  of  his.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . i cheated and looked at the poll results earlier ... it gave me a head start considering 58% of y'all yearned for the motel lol . ngl , this is kind of a mess but i am feral.

The drive home had stretched out longer than either of you had expected. James was behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but you could feel the weight of his exhaustion in his posture. The soft hum of music played in the background as you found yourself studying his profile—the sharp slope of his nose, the strong cut of his jaw, a perfect combination that made his handsomeness almost unfair. It was hard to keep your attraction under control. Your body reacted without permission, a quiet tingling sensation awakening inside you, but you did your best to keep those feelings tucked away. After all, your poker face was never quite as convincing as James’.

He always seemed to keep his emotions locked up, held at arm’s length. Unless he directly told you what he was thinking, it was nearly impossible to read him. You realized you’d been staring too long when he spoke, his voice calm and steady. "Everything alright?"

You quickly snapped your gaze forward, heat rushing to your face. "Y-yeah. Sorry."

"I'm feeling a little tired," he admitted, still focused on the dark stretch of road ahead. "I don't think it's safe for me to keep driving."

"Do you want me to take over? I don't mind," you offered, glancing at him.

James shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "No, no. I know you're tired too. There's a motel up the road," he said, nodding toward it. "We can stop and take a break."

You nodded, relieved. "Yeah, that sounds good."

As James pulled into the motel’s parking lot, he parked the car and turned off the engine. The building ahead was far from luxurious—run-down and worn, with a flickering neon sign that made the whole place look like a relic from a forgotten era. Still, it was a place to rest.

James got out of the car first and came around to open the door for you, a gesture that made you smile despite your surroundings. It was such a small thing, but it felt thoughtful, like a reminder that he always took care of you in these subtle ways. You murmured a quiet "thank you" as you stepped out, appreciating the moment.

He walked with you to the front desk, his hand lightly guiding you. The motel lobby was just as rundown as the outside, with faded wallpaper and an odd smell lingering in the air. You couldn’t help but feel uneasy, inching closer to James as the man behind the desk asked, "What can I do for you?"

"Any room available?" James asked, his voice steady and polite.

The clerk grunted, tapping at an ancient computer before handing over a key. "Room at the end. Number seven."

You gripped James' arm tighter as he accepted the key, your nerves on edge in the seedy atmosphere. He glanced down at you, offering a reassuring look before guiding you out of the lobby and toward the room.

Once inside, you both took in the sight of the small, outdated room. It wasn’t much, but it would do for the night. You set your bag down and turned to you James soft smile. "Not exactly five-star, huh?"

James didn't respond. Instead he firmly shut the door behind him. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable as per usual, however the tension between you two was palpable. Your heart raced as you take a step back, body pressing against the wall.

"What are you doing?" You whisper.

James stepped closer, his gaze boring into yours. "What am I doing?" He sounds almost … irritated?

"After the way you were looking at me before, god. I nearly crashed the car." He huffed a breath. "Like you were begging for me to bend you over." It dawned on you, it wasn't irritation in his demeanor. It was sexual frustration.

Before you could react, James grabbed your waist and pressed his body into yours. His lips crash forming rough, punishing kiss. His hands move up your hips, pulling them closer until there was no space between you two. You felt the restriction on his jeans against your thigh, the thought of the length caused you to gasp in his mouth.

James wasn't letting go. He deepened the kiss, his tongue probing into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise as he grinds his erection against your thigh. So desperate for a sense of relief.

Your voice trembles as you plead, "P-please…"

But James only pulls back, his eyes dark, "do you want me to stop?"

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you shake your head, your desperation matching his intensity. "No, please don't stop…"

He kisses you roughly, tracing the edge of your mouth with a finger as he groans against your lips. "You're so fucking sexy. I can't stop thinking about you."

Your knees tremble under his touch, completely under his spell. "What are you thinking about?" you ask coyly.

James's hands roam over your body, lifting your shirt to expose your lacy bra underneath. "Your tits, your ass," he growls as his fingers squeeze and knead your breasts. A soft moan escapes from your stained lips. "And how tight and wet your pussy feels around me."

His dirty words sent a jolt of desire through you, and you couldn't believe that such thoughts existed in his pretty head. You weigh your options in this game of seduction and decide to play along.

"But that's not what good boys do, James," you tease, causing his erection to twitch in response. "You're such a dirty boy." The seductive tone in your voice only adds fuel to the fire as James's desire for you intensifies even more.

James's eyes darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Are you gonna punish me for it," he almost laughs, his voice husky with desire. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips tightly as he pressed you harder against the wall.

You gasped as he ground his hips against yours, feeling the hard length of him through his jeans. Your head fell back against the wall, exposing your neck to him. James took full advantage, his lips trailing hot kisses down your throat as his hands roamed your body.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," he breathed against your skin, nipping at your collarbone. "Wanted you for so long."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as pleasure coursed through you. "Then take me," you whispered, your voice breathy with need.

James growled, his eyes flashing with hunger. "I'll show you just how dirty I can be."

In one swift motion, he lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you to the bed, tossing you onto the mattress with a bounce. Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you, his weight pressing you into the creaky motel bed.

His hands were everywhere at once, caressing, squeezing, exploring every inch of your body. You arched into his touch, desperate for more. James's lips trailed hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You knew there would be marks tomorrow, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"James," you moaned, your voice a low, commanding whisper as your fingers slid through his hair, tightening your grip with each passing second. His lips traveled down the length of your body, but before he could indulge any further, you yanked him back, asserting control.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze. His eyes were wild with desperation, a raw hunger that betrayed his need, but you held him firmly in place, denying him the satisfaction he craved. He was yours to command.

"I told you," your voice cut through the thick tension in the air, "that's not how good boys behave."

His breath hitched, and you felt the shiver run through him. You could see the struggle in his expression—the fight between his desire and the knowledge that you held all the power. He was teetering on the edge, waiting for you to decide his fate.

With a groan of pleasure, you pushed yourself off the bed and stood before him, the alluring picture of innocence undone. Delicate fingers urged James forward, his eyes locked onto yours as he remained on his knees in anticipation. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room as you freed yourself from the confines of your clothes, revealing your supple body to his hungry gaze.

Your hands slipped behind the lace of your panties and gathered the wetness that coated your fingers. You held the sight before him like an offering, a temptation he couldn't resist. "Open your mouth," you commanded softly, and James obeyed without hesitation - hungrily watching as you slipped your fingers between his lips and onto his tongue.

Heart racing, you placed your fingers against James's eager mouth and ordered him to suckle like a baby from your honeyed nectar. His cheeks hollowed out with the effort as he swirled his tongue around yours, lapping up every drop of your essence while sending shivers of delight through your core.

"Good boy," you breathed out, feeling the tension within you mounting unbearably. "Suck harder." And James did - pulling on your fingers with all the desperation of a man lost in desire for you, his tongue flickering wildly against yours as he drank deeply from the wellspring of pleasure that was flowing from between your legs.

As you watched James suckle greedily at your fingers, a warm glow of pleasure spread through your body. You couldn't help but reward his eagerness with a soft "good boy" murmur that made its way into his eager mouth. His tongue flicked against yours in response, as if he understood the praise was for him alone.

Removing your fingers from his mouth a string of saliva connects you both. James , on his knees, scurried forward. His teeth biting the strap of your panties, he slid the lacey number down.

"That's my good boy," you purred, stepping closer to him and running your hands over his shoulders before guiding him towards the rickety bed that creaked under their combined weight. You pushed him gently onto his back, admiring the way he arched under your touch as he allowed himself to be led like a lamb to slaughter.

Kneeling between James's legs, you free him from the confides of his clothing. Freeing his cock from the cage it was trapped in. You ran your tongue along the length of his shaft before taking it into your mouth and sucking greedily on its hardness. His hips bucked up off the mattress in response, demanding more from you as you teased him with short bursts of oral pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good. I feel like I'm going insane." He groaned.

James reached out to pull at your hair, urging you deeper onto his cock while pleading wordlessly for release. His hands trembled against your skin as he fought for control over himself, but ultimately it was you who held the power in this game… for now.

"You've been such a good boy," you whispered against his throbbing member before pulling back to admire its length one last time. "But I think it's time for your reward."

And with that, you sank back onto James's cock with a satisfied moan, welcoming him into the depths of your mouth. The tip of his hard cock hitting against your throat, meanwhile rings of your lipstick linger along the shaft. Before he can loose himself completely in your game, James returned the motion you shared earlier. With a fistful of your hair, he yanked you from his throbbing member with a guttural groan.

In a fervent nature he situated your body on the dirty mattress. Involuntarily, you find yourself opening your legs wider for him, "James! You're being so bad,"

"Shut the fuck up!" He dejects, running the tip of his cock against your slick cunt. He enters, stretching your walls to their extent. You stretch your legs farther in a feeble attempt to earn more from him.

As you feel James's cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy, you can't help but let out a moan of pleasure at the sensation. Your breasts rise and fall with each thrust of his hips, an erotic sight that drives him even deeper into you. "You're so wet, so filthy." With a growl of possession, James wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to his as he takes you harder than ever before.

"That's it," you pant in response, arching your back to meet him stroke for stroke. "Fuck me like the dirty little whore that I am." And James does – grinding into you with a ferocity that leaves no doubt about who holds the power here.

Finally reaching his climax, James grits his teeth and buries himself to the hilt inside you one last time before pulling out with a sharp groan of release. His hot seed shooting across your stomach in a powerful eruption that leaves both of you breathless and satiated.

As the two of you lay entangled in each other's sweaty embrace, you rest your head on his chest, tracing circles on his abdomen. The old mattress groans under your combined weight. "You were worth every fucking second," he whispers into your ear, nibbling softly on your lobe. His cock throbs against your thigh, still wet with his essence and aching for another round of pleasure.

"So what's next?" You ask teasingly, arching your back to offer him a glimpse of your slick folds beckoning him forward. "Should we try something different, I can ride you." James responded with a gruff you couldn't discern.

Then he rolls onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he drags you into a sixty-nine position. You yelp at the unexpected motion. His depravity, perverted nature was running like a faucet. You lay atop of James his hardened, throbbing cock mere inches from your face. With a trembling hand you reach forward for his length, tasting the juices that were inside you moments ago.

Underneath you, James darts his tongue out to taste you once more while his fingers trace lazy circles around your clit. "Fuck... you're so fucking filthy," he moans against your cunt, licking and sucking at your swollen folds as if they were the most delicious dessert he's ever tasted.

You gasp in response, surrendering your weight on James face, grinding. Completely lost in the pleasure he was providing you. Unable to focus on the task of sucking his cock, your nails dig into his thighs. Sounds of pleasure rip from your throat, uncaring of who can hear the two of you outside the motel door.

"You like that?" He asks teasingly, nipping at your clit before diving back into his feast. "Tell me how much you want it."

"I need... I need you inside me," you moan out, bucking against his tongue as it delves deeper into your soaking wet cunt. The pressure is building again but this time there's no rush – this will be a slow burn toward orgasm after orgasm until you both collapse in a puddle of sweat and satisfaction.

James' demand is like a whip cracking in the air, spurring you into action. With a ravenous hunger for his touch, you hastily position yourself as he commanded. Your legs tremble with anticipation as his hands glide up your thighs, admiring every inch of your body with greed and awe. "Beautiful," he mutters in breathless admiration. A soft smile tugs at your lips, but it quickly turns into a moan as you plunge yourself onto him, feeling his hardness fill you completely. His skillful thrusts hit all the right spots, driving you wild with pleasure. You place your hands on his chest, using them to anchor yourself as your hips move in sync with his, pushing him deeper inside you. His fingers dance over your clit, sending electrifying shockwaves through your entire body.

The symphony of your combined moans fills the room, each one louder than the last as you both lose yourselves in this passionate battle of desire and ecstasy. As your climax approaches, James' name becomes a mantra on your lips. With a final burst of intensity, waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. James' release floods inside you, overflowing with primal satisfaction that can only be found in each other's embrace. You slowly dismount and snuggle into his arms, basking in the afterglow of pure bliss. In silence, you both anticipate what new pleasures await in the morning.

[skteezcursed]

❝0025❞ — j.wy.

PAIRING. jung wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. friends to lovers. kinda idiots in love. switch woo. switch reader. teasing. strip poker. mentions of alcohol. pet names (pretty boy, bunny, love, good girl, etc). praising. p in v. unprotected sex (please, do NOT!). oral (mostly fem receiving). creampie. kinda breast play. mostly filth, i'm sorry. lmk if i forgot anything!.

SYNOPSIS. you and wooyoung have always had a thing for each other, but never acted on it, until one day he gets tired of waiting once he notices you want him just as bad as he wants you.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 3,3k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

The idea that something could be so infuriating and exhilarating at the same time was confusing to say the least, but that was how you felt whenever Jung Wooyoung would look at you, the eyes that held a teasing and menacing gaze at the same time they burned to your skin as if you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. In all truth, you were, and he was expecting to make that known to you that night as he had managed to convince you to play a game of strip poker, the drinks you had earlier not helping one bit at keeping your judgment clear. 

It’s not that you were bad at card games, no, you were amazing at them, except when you had something – or several – to drink, which was now the case. Although Wooyoung wasn’t too far behind you in being intoxicated by the alcohol, he seemed to have kept his cool, almost sober as the cards were dropped and clothes started to fill in the floor you two were in, thanking heavens that you were alone with him at the comfort of your house, at the same time trying to ignore how the pool that was forming in between your legs kept getting more annoying as the time passed and your clothes were on the floor while he still had his pants and one sock on.

  “Oh, look at that…,” the grin that took over his lips made you want nothing more than to rip it out as you groaned loudly looking at the cards he was showing, winning again. “C’mon pretty, take some piece off.”

“I fucking hate you,” his laugh reverberated through the room as he watched you take one of your socks, trying your best to push away the cold that involved you as you were only in your lingerie. Sensing the disappointing look Wooyoung sent your way, you hid your smile trying to calm your heart. “Be ready to take off some pieces next time, you are gonna lose!”

The smirk was quickly back into his lips as he picked the cards shuffling them around his hands, as you forced your eyes to not stare at them, not to imagine how good they always looked on your thigh or how flustered you always were whenever Wooyoung was bold enough to touch you a bit longer and in a daring way. The truth was, you’ve always had a thing for Wooyoung, if you were honest, how could you not? He was the perfect mix of a gentleman and a menace, but never going as far as making you uncomfortable, whenever a slight hint that you were annoyed by his antics, he would stop and apologize to you. The fact he was a touchy person didn’t help keep your feelings at bay as you grew closer. 

As the cards were thrown, you tried your best to keep your poker face and legs crossed – the latter so he wouldn’t be able to see the wet patch on your underwear. Wooyoung was already cocky enough about all the attention he got, although he got shy, you knew he enjoyed teasing the living shit out of you whenever someone would compliment him or indicate they wanted him, but curiously enough, he never gave them another second of his attention, just politely declined and kept on with whatever it was that your group was doing, also leaning closer to you, even if it was to tease how many gorgeous women and men wanted him. 

Although you wanted to deny, you loved how he would decline all the offers that came his way. You weren’t much of a jealous type, but you were definitely a possessive one, as much as you wanted to tell your brain you shouldn’t be like that towards Wooyoung. Whenever he would tease about that, you’d play it out by saying that’s how you were with all your friends, receiving a laugh from Wooyoung as you felt his hands linger on your body, sometimes he would talk back against your ear, others he would pull you closer with some excuse, and on rare occasions he would just stay like that, fingers burning on your skin as the tip of his fingers would lightly caress your exposed skin. 

“YES! Told you I’d win!” You cheer with excitement as you draw your cards laughing loudly at his pout as his eyes bore into your figure and you notice a small smirk appear on his lips before he gets up, eyeing you with that menacing glare. “No, I don’t care what you say, I’ll win the next ones too and -”

As his fingers went to the buttons of his pants, your voice stopped at once, eyes ignoring the apparent tent that was there. Once his fingers found the zipper, your eyes averted to the ground, specifically to his feet that still had one sock, which brought an inquisitive look to your face, turning into shock as his pants fell at his feet before he took them out completely kicking them somewhere along with his shirt, the sock joining it not long after, bringing your eyes to finally look up, straight into his face, as the tongue was in between his lips along with the growing grin that made you clench your thighs together. 

The movement did not go unnoticed as you saw Wooyoung’s eyebrows rise and fall before he took a few steps closer to you, noticing finally how you had your legs up to your chest cursing at yourself as you realized he probably saw the wet patch in your underwear. As he lowered himself in front of you, the maximum you would allow your eyes to wander off was up to his chest, the tattoo on his ribs finally visible for you to see, for you to touch, to –

“My eyes are up here bunny,” luckily, you only clenched your own cunt and not your legs as the pet name reached your ears, as your eyes found his predatory ones, the smirk with a slight gap between his lips, allowing you to see his tongue moving inside his mouth… God, you needed it in – “still need to go a bit further up,” his finger found your chin bringing your eyes to finally meet his and stay there. “That’s it, I like when you look at me, especially when it’s like that.”

“Fuck off,” you push his hand away and turn your legs around in front of you, still covering the growing wetness between your legs, making Wooyoung chuckle before he returns to his position, “why didn’t you take your socks off, you are supposed to only take one piece of clothing.”

“Are you complaining, love?”

You rolled your eyes as you pointed to the cards in between you two, ignoring his grin as his fingers nimbly organized the cards, ignoring how his eyes were fixed on you.

“You're scared you will lose?” 

The scoff that came from Wooyoung made you finally eye him as he finished organizing the cards. “I was planning on suggesting something for the grand finale.”

“You definitely scared to lose though, you were the idiot who took two pieces of clothing, while -”

“You would do the same if you had noticed how hard my cock is as it only got harder as I saw how wet your cunt is,” that shut you up at the same instant, the deck of cards being left on the coffee table as his eyes never left you, the smirk growing as his tongue wet his lips, sitting cross legged in front of you as his hands found his thigh, chuckling as he noticed you finally noticing his hard cock against his underwear. “Are you still gonna pretend you don’t find me attractive and that you don’t want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?”

  “Wooyoung, look -”

“What do I have to do for you to understand I don’t see you as a friend and that I want you to be mine?” As your eyes averted from his, you could hear the movement and see it from the peripheral view, only to get his hands on your chin, making you eye him as he towered above you, trying to ignore how his hard clothed cock was inches away from you. “I never wanted to be just your friend and I sure as fuck ain’t blind not to notice how you react to me, so are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless before becoming officially mine, or you still gonna be fucking brat?”

Instead of responding you palmed his clothed cock watching as his mouth opened with a gasp as you squeezed gently the length, his hands moving from your chin to caress your cheek as you smirked at each other.

“Tell me again how badly you want me, Wooyoungie.”

As you said that, both your hands moved to the waistband of his underwear, pulling slowly as you sustained eye contact with him, until you noticed that the tip of his red angry leaking cock was finally seen. Making you eye him before moving your face closer to his hip bone, leaving a tender kiss there as you slowly moved towards his cockhead, watching as it twitched slightly, his chest going up and down rapidly, making you giggle before your lips touched the tip making him groan loudly. 

  “Fuck you are gonna torture me?”

“I told you what I want, if you give it me, I’ll give it to you,” another kiss on his cockhead makes him throw his head back groaning before his hand go to the back of your head, your hair getting tangled within his fingers, “it’s a fair trade don’t you think, pretty boy?”

“Fuck I knew you were gonna be my end the day I laid eyes on you, bunny,” at that, you finally took the rest of his underwear, making his cock slap you in the face, making you giggle before holding it with one of your hands, putting just the tip inside, feeling his precum on your tongue before squeezing lightly the base of his cock. “Fuck, you are such a fucking tease, the way you’d sway your hips, how you always wear something that shows skin just to have my hands on you trying to take those fuckers who just want to fuck you away -”

“But you are one of the fuckers who want to fuck me, aren’t you Wooyoungie?”

“The difference between me and them my dear bunny, is that I can fuck you senseless and you’d still come begging for more, because you are just as desperate for my cock as I am for your cunt.”

At that he forced your head down his cock making you gag as you took him all in, tapping his thigh after a while, feeling him pull your head back and up, as his lips finally met yours. It was sloppy, desperate, lustful, it was all you both wanted and more and you felt him pulling you closer, his other hand found your waist going up your back to unclasp your bra, but never leaving your lips, not even when he felt your hardened nipples against his chest, pulling you closer to his, letting his cock press against your stomach.

You tried to put your hand in between you two, but he wouldn’t let you, keeping you firm against him as his tongue explored your mouth, God the amount of time you imagine those lips against yours, leaving wet traces until it finally found itself between your legs with your hands on his hair as he ate you out. 

“Be a good girl and sit on the couch, legs spread open,” he was as out of breath as you were, yet you complied taking off your bra first, but he stopped you as your hands went to your panties to pull them off. “Did I say something about taking these off?”

“Then how are you gonna eat me out properly?”

“Oh, my sweet bunny,” he hovered over you on the couch, the smirk forever present as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you, “I’m gonna make you scream my name in no time once I get a taste of you, and then I’ll fuck into oblivion until you beg me to stop.”

“Is that a promise?”

The doe eyes you sent him not matching the secret wish that question held, making his smirk grow as he pulled you in for another kiss, one of his hands going all the way from your waits to your knee as his other, found your breasts, pinching the hardened nipple making you moan against the kiss before he slapped it before massaging it all over again, making you whimper against his lips.

“It’s a promise since the moment I first saw you,” his lips lingering closely to your own as you felt his hand squeeze your thigh as his other moved up to your neck cupping your face pulling you in for another tender and innocent kiss before he started moving downwards, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses on your jaw and neck before reaching the valley of your breasts. “It’s a promise from the moment I saw your tits almost slipping out of one of those dresses you wore for the first night out we had as a group, where I almost had to fight a few guys who wanted what was mine.”

“I thought I wasn’t yours yet.”

“You were always mine, you just didn’t want to accept it,” his mouth fully involved your breast as his hand massaged the other, feeling the little random bites that would sure make their appearance in the morning, but you couldn’t care less as your fingers found his hair moaning every time he sucked and bit your breast, “so pretty like that and I barely touched you, I wonder how pretty you look all fucked out.”

“Why don’t you start by putting your mouth to use somewhere else?”

“Your wish is my comment, love,” he kisses you one last time before the wet trail of kisses happens all over again, slowly but surely accompanied by small bites here and there as Wooyoung makes sure to hold you down and spread your legs open as he gets closer to your clothed core. “Fuck, you are so wet, I wonder how much you can last.”

Combination of his words, eye contact, fingers gently taking the edges of your panties and the small kiss he leaves on top of your clothed aching clit, makes your hips jolt up, bringing a chuckle to Wooyoung’s mouth as he finally takes your panties of, a this line connecting your panties to your soaking core makes him curse before completely throwing your panties somewhere along with the other clothes. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you and make you cum on my mouth.”

Before you could say anything, his hot breath collided with your sensitive clit, a tender and contained kiss being left there as you could sense the chuckle Wooyoung left at your whimpers, reverberated through your body before your fingers found his head pulling him into your soaked cunt. His hands firmly on the back of your thigh spreading them open, your knees up to your chest as his mouth fully involved your clit, the kitty licks making you moan loudly and arch your back, feeling the small laugh he let out reverberate through your body once more.

“Woo, fuck-,” you cried as he lowered his head, his tongue at your entrance as his nose would meet your clit sending shocks of electricity and warmth through your body, “fuck, just like that Woo, fu-fuck, your ton-tongue, I can’t I-”

“Don’t you dare hold back, I wanna hear you, bunny.”

As two fingers entered you and his mouth closed on your clit sucking it, a scream left you. His fingers were quick, curling from time to time inside you making you squirm under him, as his arm could barely hold you still, but he honestly didn’t care, the sight of you shaking under him, your taste on his mouth, the feeling of your cunt clenching his fingers was sending him into overdrive and he wasn’t even inside you yet. 

The first wave hit you like a truck, the guttural sound that left your mouth followed by a scream as your fingers pulled Wooyoung’s hair was enough for him to finally let go of your wet folds. Once you felt his face away from you, your eyes met with his face glistening with your juice as he pushed his two fingers into his mouth, ravishing on your taste before pulling you in for another kiss. Your hands quickly ran down his chest to find his hard cock, before he stopped you.

“But Woo-”

“We’ll have plenty of that, unfortunately, if I don’t get inside of you right now, I’m afraid I’ll combust,” as you pulled him in for another kiss, your heels found his ass and thigh, pulling him into you, your hand finding his hard leaking cock and putting it at your entrance, making him whine against your lips as you squeezed him with your hand as to pull him closer to where both of you needed. “Fuck, I’m gonna break you, bunny.”

“You can break me as many times as you want if you are willing to put me back together.”

“God you are so perfect,” as his lips found yours with a tender and borderline innocent kiss, his cock pushed through your gummy walls making you gasp and moan against his lips before he hid his face on the crook of your neck, biting the base as he slowly entered your tight hole. “Tell me when I can move.”

A small shake of your head was all he needed before he started progressively thrust into you, his hips finding yours at a rapid pace as both your moans and grunts filled the house along with the sounds of your bodies. Wooyoung was a bit over average size, but he was girthy, so you were still getting used to his size as he fucked you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix every so often. 

His hands pulled your legs towards your chest making him hit a whole new spot inside you, making you scream at the feeling before his thumb start rubbing circles on your clit, your legs already shaking, mouth open, uncontrollable moans leaving both of you as his thrusts became sloppier, his kisses were messy and you clenched so much around him that ripped profanity after profanity from his lips. 

“Woo, I’m coming, fuck, please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, it feels so good!”

“Cum with me, love, cum all over my cock,” as if magic, his words hitting your core sending you to combust under him, shaking and screaming as you felt your orgasm reach you, feeling his warm seeds inside you as his thrusts faltered before coming to a stop. Your legs were numb, but your arms quickly wrapped around him, your nails scratching his scalp softly as his body weight held you against the couch. “You are just as perfect as I imagined you to be.”

Your giggle came with the small kisses and love bites he left on your neck before pulling out of you and placing some distance between you two as he watched his seeds leak from your fluttering hole, a smirk on his lips before his lips met with your clit making you cry a moan.

“Wooyoung, please…!”

“Sorry love,” his face was quick to go up to yours, a kiss on your lips as you both smiled at the current situation. “So, can I ask you to be officially mine, now?”

“I was yours from the moment we met, Wooyoungie.”

“That’s my good little bunny.”

general masterlist here ♡

network: @cultofdionysusnet ♡ @atzhouse ♡

©skteezcursed (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[grandline-fics]

Your writing hits the point.

I would love to read more about Law falling love/being in love with reader

Maybe the story about how they become a thing, thanks a lot

DESCRIPTION: A continuation from Law’s part in this. 

WARNINGS: Slight blood mention near the end

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,127

A/N: I'm so glad you enjoy my writing. Hopefully you like how this turned out

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

“Bet?” 

“There was a bet to win a date with you?” 

“When!? Who took part and didn’t tell me?!” 

“Where was I?!” Law rubbed his eyes tiredly over the commotion he’d unintentionally caused in the dining hall during breakfast. Why did he have to open his mouth? Slowly he looked to you, watching as you peered at him from over the rim of your teacup. Your eyes glinted in amusement but when you lowered the cup you fixed him with a convincingly confused and almost concerned expression. No wonder the others hated playing poker against you.

“Captain, I’m sorry but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You told him, studying his face with a slight tilt of your head. “Is it possible you imagined it? I know sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations.” Law rolled his eyes, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated anything. The jolt of irrational panic he’d felt about someone going on a date with you was too real. At least this confirmed that you’d lied to get him to sleep, he still wasn’t completely sure why that had been your tactic in the first place. “Maybe you dreamt it?” You prodded with a growing smile, remaining in your seat as the others began to drift out of the room to begin their tasks for the day. 

“It wasn’t a dream.” Law muttered as he rose to clear his dirty dishes away before heading to the door. 

“Awww that’s a shame.” You hummed sadly. “I quite liked the idea of you dreaming about me, Captain.”

He snapped his head around to look at you while you rinsed out your cup. By the time you turned around your expression was innocent once again while his was one of agitation as he tried to fight the prickling heat rising up the back of his neck. Saying nothing more you walked by him with a smile. This one-sided teasing was insufferable.

Later in his study he found himself griping to Bepo who had listened patiently at first but finally he let out a small laugh, making Law pause and look at him in confusion. “What?”

“For someone so smart Captain, you can be pretty dense.” The navigator grinned. “Why do you think they were the one I got when you didn’t listen to me about going to sleep?”

Law opened his mouth to answer but then closed it again. At the time he never thought to really question it. He was extremely tired at the time and part of him rationalised that it was because the others had already tried. Bepo’s grin grew and he answered. “Because you pay attention to them more than the rest of us. Most of the time you don’t even realise it but when they move near you or speak to you, you either stop what your so hyper-focused on completely or at least take a break from it. They’re my secret weapon when you need to rest.” Only now Bepo realised, you were now his not-so secret weapon. However after this long of using you this way it was about time he got his Captain to open his eyes to how he felt about you. 

“They’ve never lied about a bet before…or about the others getting to date them to get me to go to sleep.” Law muttered, rubbing his stiff neck. Even if he were to believe Bepo’s claim about your power over him, that was still something that was throwing him off. 

“Maybe they were testing you?” Bepo mused. “It could have been their way of seeing if you would react to the thought of them being with someone?”

“Why would they do that? They’ve never exactly been shy about voicing their feelings about anything.”

“Maybe this time it’s different? Still it’s something to think about, yeah? That is if it’s something you wanted to think about.”

For the next two days, the navigator’s suggestion was all he thought about. With his words playing over and over in his head Law became more aware of how he was around you and how you in turn acted with him. When you helped him in the lab with preparing vaccines in preparation for the next islands for the crew you stayed close enough to be able to feel the warmth of each other’s presence but still separate so neither were suffocated or uncomfortable. When you were about to ask for a utensil or component he already had it in his hand in preparation to pass it over and when you did take it, your fingers always lightly grazed against his for the briefest of moments. It wasn’t unpleasant for him, now that he was aware of the fleeting moment with every exchange he could see you’d always done this with him.

With all of the possible vaccines completed, properly labelled and stored you and Law set about clearing the equipment away and cleaning the lab. Without warning the ship lurched and you were knocked sideways against the counter, hand shooting out to try and catch yourself at the same time Law caught your waist and braced as the ship corrected itself again. Suddenly all too aware of your Captain’s body against yours you looked up to meet his stare. “You’re bleeding.” Blinking you followed his gaze to see your hand pressed into the glass of broken test tubes that had thankfully been unused. The last thing you wanted was to get infected by anything possibly harmful. “Come on, sit over here.” You were thrown by the gentleness in Law’s voice and let him guide you to sit at the table, his arm still around your waist until you sat down. 

As he picked the glass from your hand and methodically cleaned the blood away you couldn’t help but smile. A few minor stitches were needed but overall it was nothing major. “Who knew the Surgeon of Death could be so tender.” You said with a smile that grew when he let out a small chuckle. However your smile dropped into a look of shock when he unexpectedly placed a kiss against your bandaged palm. You tried to calm your growing blush and stared at him in bewilderment. “Wh-what was that?!” You asked while Law rose casually. He stared down at you in confusion and you had to wave your injured hand at him for emphasis. “Kissing my hand?!”

Law blinked at you slowly and your eyes widened when the son of a bitch had the nerve to tilt his head at you curiously, mimicking how you teased him just days before. Only this time to make matters worse he leant down so his face was inches from yours. “Is it possible you imagined it?” 

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine taking Rayleigh and Shakky out on a date

This is part 2 of this post

Rayleigh: so you want to take us out on a pretend date to spite your first mate and captain for bullying you?

Reader: I know how it sounds, but I figured it'd be a good way to get back at them.

Shakky: While I'm all for helping you get revenge, I don't understand your logic.

You: well, Rayleigh is Shanks's father figure.

Rayleigh: That's not how I'd put it, but I suppose I'm the closest thing he's got.

You: And while I know you two have an open relationship, I thought fucking my captain's father figure would be crossing a line.

Shakky: probably a wise move.

You: And I wanted you to go on a fake date with you, Shakky because Benn has had a crush on you for years, but has been too nervous to ask you out on a date.

Rayleigh: so a date, with both of us, would be two birds with one stone.

Shakky: Oh, I know about his little crush, his poker face is terrible

You: I know, right? I saw him in here earlier, looking at you, he was about as subtle as a sea train.

Rayleigh: *turns to his wife,* What do you think?

Shakky: I dunno.

You: I'll pay for dinner.

Shakky: Deal.

Rayleigh: Pick us up at six thirty tonight.

That night during dinner

Rayleigh: *drinking straight from the wine bottle you ordered*, So how's the brat supposed to know you took us on a date?

You: Well, he planned on dining here at seven, so by the time our food arrives, he should be here. But you know him, he's not good at sticking to plans. If he doesn't come, we could take a picture as a backup plan.

Shakky: Sounds like a plan, in the meantime, we should have a proper date.

Rayleigh: yes, tell us about yourself.

An hour later

You: And Shanks, buck ass naked, slips on the wet rocks, falls, and smacks against the surface of the water!

Shanks: (y/n)?

You: *looks over to notice Shanks and his inner circle gawking at you*

Rayleigh: hey sport

Shanks: what's going on here?

Shakky: what does it look like? We're having a date with this little cutie. *wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder, giving a pointed smirk at Benn*

Rayleigh: *puts his arm around both you and Shakky and pulls you into his side,* They were just telling us about your skinny sipping mishap on Koala Island.

Shanks: No

You: yep

Benn: *glaring daggers at you,* You little shit, how long has this been going on?

You: Not long, this is the first date.

Shanks: Is this because of what we said two weeks ago?

You: a little

Shanks: *pouts,* We were just teasing.

Shakky: You're interrupting our date, it's quite rude.

Shanks: Fine, enjoy your evening.

Later

Shanks: *alone, passed out drunk on his table*

Rayleigh: *sighs* this boy I swear.

Shakky: Want to ditch him with our tab?

You: Yeah, but we're not gonna leave him without the cash, *pulls out his wallet and puts the Berry you brought along inside before sliding it back into his pocket*

The next day on the Red Force

You: *walks onto the ship only for everyone to stare at you*

Benn: You have some explaining to do.

Shanks: *bursts out of his cabin,* Did you fuck them?

You: no, I thought that'd be crossing a line.

Shanks: then where did you stay last night?

You: In their guest room, I helped Shakky open this morning because Rayleigh had wandered off after our date... Look, it wasn't a real date, Boss, I was upfront with them about my intentions.

Shanks: We didn't bully you.

You: It certainly felt like it to me, and when I voiced that hurt, you didn't apologize, and basically told me to stop sulking. So I wanted you to know how it felt, so I asked Rayleigh and Shakky to help me get back at you for bullying me.

Shanks: I see, *reflects on his behavior for a moment* I'm sorry we teased you, it was supposed to be a joke but ended up hurting your feelings.

You: Apology accepted.

Shanks: Now, please never date any of my former crew mates from my time with Roger.

You: I promise I won't knowingly date any of them.

Shanks: I don't like the way you phrased that, but fine, I guess.

Benn: Now that that's done, tell me how in the hell you got Shakky to go on a date with you.

You: Again, it was a fake date, but I simply asked.

Benn: I was afraid you were gonna say that.

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[n0vation]

Won't you just make love to me? Salesman x Saleswoman!Reader

ㄨSUMMARY:Two dogs monster soulmates recruiters become friends accidentaly and decide to have fun watching their favorite shows!

ㄨ╰┈➤ˎˊ˗PAIRING: Salesman x fem!reader / Smut / Dark Content

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ TAGS/WARNINGS: Sadomasochistic!reader, gun mention, kidnapping(not reader this time), cigarette burns, Dom!Salesman x sub!reader, piv, choking, dubcon?

Prepared with love and care from Nova after this poll<3.

══✿═══✿════╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞════✿════✿══

Saleswoman!reader who understands something is wrong when flashing her cute and professional smile at this person in the train, resulting in him waving the same golden card as her.

Saleswoman!reader who notices this too good man in train station. If he was that good financially, he wouldn't be sitting on that bench.

"Excuse me, Sir. Would you like to play a game with me? " She asked, crossing her legs to look more professional in that office outfit. He smiles back.

"I don't like this tone. Yet your face doesn't speak to me." He answered, thinking it's a previous winner who came back for revenge.

"Sir, just one game?" Is he drunk? Then it will just be easier for you.

"I'm not a scammer. If you win, you get this." Flashing the money, it always gets them to play.

Salesman can't help but feel confused. Was that an error? There is never an error.

"I'm sorry but that's my zone." He flashed his money too, annoyed. Is she stupid? You compare the message you both received with the same zone assigned for two different number.

Recruiter 01... Recruiter 04...

"Maybe it wasn't an error. Do you really think they would make such an error?" You think out, loud making him roll his eyes. Doubting your superiors? Unimaginable.

The notification on both of your phones cut your discussion short. An address, a number and both of your IDs. So it wasn't an error. You can't help but show off.

"Told you." You said while walking with him outside of the station. He just stares at you, hating how he would have said the same.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Bursts of laughter came from the backseat of the taxi. Who could believe it? The dogs recruiters have a lot in common! You both worked as a circle before being promoted to triangle and from that, recruiter! Even your favorite party games are the same!

"Bet she has the same kinks too" He thoughts. No, Salesman that's too intrusive to ask; he scolded himself.

"Bet he has the same kinks too." You thought. Come on, control yourself!

The taxi stops, the doors parting to reveal a nighttime Seoul. You follow the other recruiter, letting his back frame be the only visual as he leads the way to the outgoing part of the city.

The GPS stops in front of an abandoned building. Suspicious, you both enter looking around, but nothing to be seen except a few spiders.

"You're sure-" He cuts you by shushing you loudly. You hear it now. Faint beat from underground. He grins, having a point; now it's a draw between both of you.

"Illegal party?" You ask as he nods. He points toward a back door slightly opened, letting the noises peek through. Flashing lights and loud rave music greet you after going down to the basement. Painfully for your ankles in such heels. He shows you the picture he just received on his phone. The target.

"I've seen this guy before, trust me. " He states before grabbing your upper arm and leading you through the crowd, reaching the most hidden place. His hand pulling you roughly to make you struggle between all the people.

You enter an enlightened room, watching multiple people play poker. The target, him, is currently getting handled and ruined by his friend . As soon as he notices you, he comes for you and gives each of you a letter, signing you to not open and hurry you out of the room.

While you make your way out of the rave, someone grab you by your tie and pulls you apart. You look around for Salesman and notice him being hurried up the stairs too. The smell of strong alcohol assaults your sense of smell. They leave your clothes, starting their mockeries toward both of you. The two ladies with the three man laughing drunkenly at your looks .

Both of you glance toward each other , thinking the same things: "No witnesses." . You distract the men for a few seconds with the ddakji trick before Salesman sends them to sleep a bit. You handle the ladies before they start being too noisy.

Taxi, building, basement, alcohol, music and finally it's all set up! You look at your new friends who agreed to play with you and Salesman. How sweet!

You glance at the chained victims waking up , greeted by the sight of the recruiter and you drinking peacefully, before you both flash them with the same large smile.

Your new bestie get up before you could, handing you to stay sat while he "puts the show on!". You can't help but feel flaterred at his manner.

"Ladies and gentlemans, you will be playing red hand to win liberty back! The rules are simple, you have to slap your opponent's hand before them but if you go for it and they pulls away you have lost. The first one to arrive to 10 fails is eliminated." He states as he drags out a man and a woman from their still sleeping friend group to put them against each other .He puts them in a way you could safely watch from your seat, not having to worry about your safety since the chain on their leg was not long enough to reach you.

He sits next to you, playing with the gun. If it wasn't for that your show wouldn't start. He lowers his head, starting his bet over the winner. You look at him, admiring his features. It just made your mind wonder over his face at hearing him spat such gruesome overcome for the terrorized victim. Yet he was so attractive it unlocked something in you.

The first round start, the game starts to raise in violence because none of you decide to interrupt at any overflow. You watch him appreciating the game in front of him, especially how the man started to get physical because he was losing to the lady.

7...8...9...10!

"We have a winner!" He said getting up, grabbing two things on the table.

"My dear friend will decide your fate, Sir." He tells out loud before bending toward you, showing you two weapons : axe or gun. You chuckled as you point the gun, not wanting him to take too long before coming back to sit next to you. You watch him from behind, shooting the man and setting the painted in red winner in front of her next opponent. So graciously and hot. You felt like a hole was dug in your stomach and filled with burning love at the sight of the recruiter wiping away blood from his hand.

"Round two" He raises a cup of alcohol to your enjoyment, flashing his smirk again.This time you were too distracted to even pay attention to the outcome of the match. The piano, the screams, him, maybe it was more than enjoyement you were feeling. Spreading all over your body to gather in your stomach. Maybe not stomach now, you would have located somewhere else. He leans toward your side to talk to you and that enjoyment just twist into arousing.

You cross your legs, avoiding his gaze and watching your movie as he turns his head to look straight into your face. You stay stern, poker face, trying to supress any signs of what was physically happening to you.

"No way...You too..." He mumbled his smile growing as he crosses his legs in the same attempt as you. He then suddenly gets up grabbing your arms, dragging you outside of the luxurious room. You chuckled letting him. As soon as he reaches another rich room, he yanks you toward him , kissing you. You answer back at the kiss before breaking up watching him examinate your face and then kiss you again shoving his tongue to entagle with yours. His hands travels up your arm to stops over your shoulder, his fingers sinking deeper like if you wanted to run away. You let your hand finds their way around his neck, pulling him to lay down the soft couch.

You slide over him, feeling the features of his body under the clothes. It was like you expected. You sit over him, grabbing the cigarette over the table and lighting it as he stares at you.

"You wanna smoke?" He asks not understand why right now. You exhale the smoke, blowing into his face as you smirk. You take the cigarette between your fingers leaning to his face. He flinches at your hand holding the hot material resting too close to his cheek.

"Why so sudden? I like my show long and slow." You graze the hot end between your finger around his features. After all, you like to take part of the show too.

"Don't go on that path. You won't like it after." He says amused at your attics but definitely not by the burn that is coming for him.

" Noo." You says sliding the cig down his neck. Chin, neck, Adams apple, collar bone..

" Here. You don't mind ,do you?" You asks innocently, taking an inhale as you goes back to threatening to burn him over his sternal.

"I want to have my own show too." You pout, loving his attempts at getting up but your thighs holded him.

"Warned you." He suddenly grabs your hand, sitting up and pushing you down the matters, reversing the position.

"You had your show, I set it up just for you. My turn now." He says snatching the cigs to bring it to his mouth. You swear you could see him watching where you put your lips over the roll and put his there too. But you were busy trying to get over him again. He mimics your game, running the burning stick over your cheek and down between your chest, pulling your clothes down to your shoulders. He flicks you a smile before sinking it over your skin. Between your boobs. You squirmed , smelling the mixed scent of tabasco and burning flesh as he pressed harder, mainting you down. He lights up another one, pressing another circle next to the first.

"O, O." He puts his two finger in front of them, in a piece sign before mumbling something you couldn't hear. Did he just said "Yoo"?

"Won't you just make love to me?"You asks not sure of what his show consist of. He doesn't look very sane anyway. He leans over your chest, letting his lips graze over your burned skin. That's when your moral came back: you're gonna hook up with a co-worker.

You try to sit up straight but you get pinned back, hand over your throat. His kisses, a hand squeezing your neck just how it should and the other sliding less and less clothes off of both of you...

And then everything found its right place: both of his hands around your throat, your legs around his waist and his cock inside you. Your fingers claw over his thick forearm, attempting to loose up his grip over your neck as he pounds in you. You watch his face blur from the lack of oxygen combined with the sweet release building inside of you. He grins, smokes escaping his lips as he enjoyed your face leaning to pinkish tone to red.

He presses his finger deeper feeling your hands shaking as you came, feeling high. He lets go of your neck while you take deep breaths . He snickers as he slides a firm hand under your back lifting you up to manhandle your hips. You squints as the smoke coming from him burn your eyes. He looked so hot gripping on your hips to slam you back circled by heavy smoke. It was clear that you needed pur oxygen now. He slams you on last time before lifting you way from his member letting his hot cum shoots on your stomach.

His hands find there way around you , holding you close to him as he admires your face. That is now his favourite show for sure.

FUCK I MEAN WORSE***

[eluxcastar]

idk if we're meant to req this way but Pantalone Dottore and Capitano (separate) with #6?? please we're starving out here ri

Opening up to their s/o

── ୨୧：pantalone, il dottore, il capitano x reader (separate)

୨୧﹑synopsis :: more of this prompt more comfort drabbles spins

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff but I would maybe not call it straight fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, literally none of these people effectively communicate, kinda vague on purpose

୨୧﹑words :: 1.3k

Opening up for the first time.

is nobody feeding you?? I mean I know I've been slow but anon honey are you ok 😭

sorry this has taken so long as I said medical issues I swear I'm back to not starve you I've been thinking of this since I received it actually because you said you're starving. to everyone else, I'm getting off my ass

prompt list

── ୨୧：pantalone

Pantalone is not typically emotional. He is prone to fronts and lies, and he is not enthusiastic about the idea of sharing his feelings with you. It's not in his nature to be emotional, though Pantalone feigns such things and uses it to hide things from you. Playful with you each time you question him, he'll evade it and convince you, to his satisfaction, that everything is fine.

You hardly believe him, as is the case with many of the things he says. His well-crafted exterior hardly masks his stress once caught off guard, crushed under the pressure of maintaining the image of a well-groomed and high-class businessman.

The people he associates with disgust him, as do their actions and worldviews. They were raised in a world of glamour and decadence where he's belittled, new money in a sea of people living off of old money. It never seems to get to Pantalone until it does; the outbursts of anger are what follow. It's fine, he always says. He just needed a moment.

But nothing will ever be enough, he realises, your arms so inviting as you stand by the chair at his desk, running your hands through his hair, only a month after you made it official you were dating. Pantalone's poker face was pretty while it lasted, but his messier sides were always lurking just around the corner. To hold his head in your arms and console him through his pent-up anger is therapeutic to him, a labour of love for you.

His composure is fragile at times as he dances on the occasionally very thin line between put together and on the verge of smashing his wine glass in frustration right in front of an acquaintance. It's certainly not pretty, and he makes his fingers hurt at times from how hard he fights to refrain from doing it, but it keeps the very thing he works so hard for—his reputation.

Pantalone got so far, but it still amounts to nothing, even when he's the wealthiest man in the world. Nothing matters in the face of a reputation lingering, a poor man pretending to be rich, new money already too big for his britches. You don't care about his reputation, and you're not caught up in appearances. He likes that.

He likes how you laugh as you tell him that's junk, rich people crap, aristocratic bullshit. It feels comforting, like home to laugh his problems off as the pettiness of others. It's nice to let go of such a serious outlook.

 

── ୨୧：il dottore

Dottore's idea of sharing with you very much involves deflecting, avoiding and dancing around the many problems in his life, not eager to rely on a person when he could solve the issue himself. If you never need to know, you never start worrying and never dwell on it. He never has to face the problem properly.

For small things, that doesn't seem so strange. Dottore can quickly move on without them bothering him too much because that's the natural way of dealing with minor inconveniences, short of being ironically dramatic. Something goes wrong, and he can solve it within fifteen minutes. It's like water off a duck's back. Other times, Dottore will wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, and his greatest worry is how to make sure he doesn't wake you up as he slips out of bed.

No matter how often you tell Dottore to tell you what's wrong, he tries to assure you it's nothing, insignificant or a temporary setback. It's not that, as evidenced by his troubled face. It doesn't shake his lies. He'll run off and try to fix it all himself just as he always has, previously stemming entirely from the fact he had to, now purely by habit. If it ain't broke, don't fix it (it's broke).

So to hear him open up is…strange, though you are used to long-winded rambles reminiscent of a raving madman. He talks quickly sometimes and expects you to follow to the best of your abilities. Whether you can or not is another question. It is different, tired and spent from a day of hard work, hands raking through his messy blue hair as words fall from his lips as quickly as they enter his mind, barely coherent sentences of every inconvenience big and small he faced.

In a way, he hopes it's so hurried and jumbled you'll hardly catch half of it, though you sit by his side and debate between rubbing his back and not startling him with the sudden touch. It feels like the release of every little thing he bottled up overflows, and he doesn't want to speak once he settles, quiet. He looks at you with such exhaustion in his eyes, and you touch your hands to his face with as much caution as you can muster. He lets out a sigh the closest filled with the closest to relief he can get.

It is not perfect; he is an imperfect man. But it is his first step, and he can be nurtured.

 

── ୨୧：il capitano

Capitano doesn't intentionally hide things at a glance. He's usually very open with what he says, but some things slip his mind, and he's hardly keen on speaking from an emotional standpoint. Everything is objective, a piece of news and not a conversation about what happened. Someone fell down a ravine. What happened? They died. And his reaction? It happens all the time.

Objectively, that measure is correct, but it ignores the fact that people are people. He never wants to acknowledge being part of something because Capitano can tell you things without needing to. You notice it but avoid bringing it up, wondering maybe if that's just how he copes with it all. The years of death and bloodshed will weigh down on him, but if he doesn't bring it up to you, he'll have a reprieve to retreat to.

It's not good enough, but people never are. Everyone has their vice, and perhaps Capitano's vice is separating himself from who he is in battle once he returns home.

He never had a single point at which everything came crashing down, and the world felt bleak, but a series of small moments where Capitano let it slip that he mourned each loss with unimaginable care. Capitano remembers their names and keeps items to memorialise them. Somehow, that's not unthinkable with the way he keeps his regiment running like a well-oiled machine, every person there to better it in some way. He picked those people by hand.

Capitano paces when he thinks. He paces more than usual around the room in circles on a particularly rough night. He suffered a great setback, as it was put. You try everything you can think of to get through to him, from asking him to talk to you to telling him to sit down. He insists on just being preoccupied.

Coincidentally, that gets you the furthest as he tries to push you away with excuses.

He's preoccupied. Why? He had a difficult mission. What happened? People died. And? And what? There shouldn't be more, yet it unravels, the loose thread of his stoic composure suddenly coming apart. He knew them by name; it hurt to lose them, and he wishes to personally deliver their belongings to their families as soon as possible. That's it. That's enough for him to curl up on the couch and quietly accept that you finally got him to say something and that it was pleasant to have it be less of a burden to carry such things.

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter one

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

AO3LINK NEXT

"You're in denial, you could just say you didn't want me anymore. But you prefer to pretend that..." You throw his favorite book out the window like it means nothing. 'Cause now it doesn't mean.

"You can't blame me, our romance should have ended a long time ago. But you and I..." Yoongi seems almost too serious saying this. Do you mean nothing to him?

"You and me what?" You respond from the balcony of your apartment. Luckily your neighbors aren't too curious to know why you're yelling at your ex-lover.

"You know I can't shout that here, some fans might be here." Poor little thing, at that moment you wonder where the brave man is who asked you to embark on this relationship even though you knew your worlds would never be the same.

"I thought the whole point of paying a lot of money to live in an apartment far from the big city and known for its discretion would be being able to yell at you at two in the morning." You don't care if he thinks he's going to leave you without anything more or less, and that you're going to come out of this situation smiling, he should have found someone else to have sex with.

"If you would let me come up, we could talk like adults." He speaks subtly with an impressive poker face. If he stops being a musician, perhaps he could try a career as an actor or a gambler.

"Like adults? I'll be waiting for the other adult to arrive." You say throwing some clothes that are in your apartment that belong to him.

"Like you're being mature about all this. Damn!" One of his belongings ends up breaking near his feet. In fright he lets out several swear words, you luckily end up laughing.

"You break up with me over the phone and I have to be mature. I gave up part of my freedom to be yours. And look what I get in return." Anger took over you initially but now all you can do is try to keep from crying.

"Y/N. Let me in, so we can talk. I can see you almost crying from here." You smile lightly as you feel tears fall down your cheek. What a humiliation.

"If you cared about me you would have had the decency to say that you wanted to finish it the last time you were here." His cowardice can only be explained by his fear of having to do this in person.

"I couldn't. I didn't..." That was exactly what was left of the two of you. An awkward silence and resentment.

"Do you know how frustrating it is not being able to curse your name or tell someone you broke my heart?" You say that sobbing. What a tragedy it is that has made you sentimental now.

"Just because we don't work anymore doesn't mean I don't love you." You look at him and for a moment you feel more sorry for him than for yourself.

"If this is how you love someone. I'm sorry to inform you that you don't know love." Ironically it makes you smile. Maybe this is all his fault, not yours.

"Love..." It's very painful to see the man you've been involved with for the last year, call you that and not be able to respond.

"I'll send the rest of your things to the company. Don't worry, I won't expose you any more than I already have. Now get out of here, you and your fake love." Using one of his songs as the grand finale was a majestic act. Crying yourself to sleep, unfortunately, is not so majestic.

Two Months Later...

"You were the only person I thought would understand my situation. Try not to judge me but I need an opinion." You say looking Namjoon in the eyes. You got really close to him during your secret relationship with Yoongi.

"Is it too big a secret?" He asks entering his new home. A home where you swore you would start over.

"You tell me..." You say, opening your coat and revealing your stomach.

"Did you call me here because you gained weight after the breakup or do you have worms?" Namjoon asks and you smile nervously. Until you shake your head denying.

"Let's say the weight gain is due to something prior to the breakup..." You try not to say the word. Maybe the situation will go away if you don't name it.

"You are pregnant?" He named his current situation. Now it means it's really happening.

"Surprise!" You say trying to liven up the situation but you know you're fucked. Namjoon seems really surprised. As soon as he assimilates the information, he hugs you. You knew you could lean on the friendship you two have.

[oneforthemunny]

could i request some mafia!eddie pregnancy angst?

baby blues |mafia!eddie munson x pregnant!reader|

prompt: you're pregnant. eddie's scared. he does what he always does when he's scared; he runs.

contains: mafia!eddie so mafia themes, some mentions of violence and drugs, pregnant reader, unplanned pregnancy, angst angst angst, parental fears, past trauma mentions, fluff-ish at the end (you guys know I have to make it happy or I'll throw up lol)

Eddie had always heard about time standing still, frozen in fear, the Earth unmoving and stilling all around you. He'd seen it happen to others, sometimes he was the one inflicting it. Yet somehow, he'd never experienced it. Not even when he was staring down the barrel of a gun, a bullet lodging himself in his lungs.

Not until now.

Standing in the marble bathroom, your fingers at your lips, anxiously chewing on your nails, arm wrapped around your midsection protectively.

Suddenly, Eddie felt like he was under water, ears ringing and roaring, your muffled voice that he couldn't bring himself to register the words. He felt his breath leave him, one final push of air out of his mouth, heart stilling to a stop in his chest.

The pregnancy test on the counter. Positive.

Two beady red lines that ran down the test and straight to Eddie's nervous system, shocking him back into reality. "Eddie," You sighed, heavy, a little nervous- begging. Begging him to look at you, say something, anything to you.

Eddie blinked up at you, eyes far too wide and scared. Not the usual poker face Eddie held in times of fear. Oh no, that was gone. Gone was the rationality, the stoic expression he kept for you. Eddie was scared.

"Eddie, please. I-I know it's not what we wanted," Your breath stuttered. Of course it wasn't what you wanted. Neither one of you really ever planned on kids. It wasn't in the cards with this lifestyle. More importantly, with the danger that came with this life.

"Can you... Can you say something, please?" You whimpered, your hand curling into your sweater, grabbing at the material there over your stomach.

Eddie swallowed hard, eyes flickering from the counter back to you. "I-I don't know what to say." He admitted. That was true. His mind had gone vacant with fear, his own heartbeat in his ears was deafening, making it very difficult for him to think of much of anything.

Your lip quivered, fists balling beside you. "I'm sorry..." You muttered, unsure of what else to say. "I-I don't know how this happened. I went to get my shot and I was... I was on schedule and," You stuttered, heart shattering in your own chest. "And I don't know what to do, Ed."

Eddie didn't console you. Didn't wrap you up in his arms and tell you everything would be alright. Didn't tell you he'd handle it or not to worry, that the two of you would figure it out. Not like he'd done before.

No, this time. He just stood there. Just as unsure and scared as you.

***

"Rick," Ladonna's voice carried down the hall, her heels clacking with every step behind her. "Honey, someone's here for you."

Rick huffed, pushing out from under his desk. "Don, I'm busy. Can you tell them I'm not-" Rick wasn't expecting to see Eddie there. All curly hair and wide eyes despite the heavy bags under them.

Rick flinched, looking from his wife back to Eddie. "Jesus, kid, you look like shit." He muttered, scanning his frame.

Ladonna glared at him over Eddie's shoulder, patting his back gently before excusing herself. "Did we have a meeting or something? I didn't have anything down but-"

"-I need to talk to you." Eddie said, urgent but not shrill. An eery calm that had Rick's shoulders tensing, eyes cutting around out of instinct.

"Yeah?" Rick hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to appear as cool and level headed as he could. "'bout what? What's wrong?"

"About my dad." Eddie said bluntly, eyes blinking. He looked young, like a scared teenager again.

Rick's heart lurched at the mention of Clint, mouth opening then closing. He let out a slow sigh, nodding gently. "Sure." He pushed the door to his office open, letting Eddie walk in.

Eddie didn't look around at the spacious walls or at the art lining them. No, he'd been in here too many times before, seen it before, and he was too scared to be interested. Instead, he sat on the couch, perched on the edge, hands clasped in front of him and knee bouncing.

Rick hadn't seen the kid like this in a while. Not since he first started, anxious that he'd fucked up when he'd shot someone trying to rob him. "So," Rick propped himself across from Eddie, sinking into the chair. "You want to know about your dad?"

Eddie nodded, hands pressed together in a white knuckled grasp, knee bouncing furiously, faster and faster at the mention. "Any reason why?" Rick pressed, eyes scanning over Eddie.

Eddie's breathing hitched, running a hand over his face, refusing to meet Rick's eyes. "I just... I need to know what he did." Eddie admitted with a shaky sigh.

Rick raised a brow. "You know what he did." He replied simply. "He handled the messy shit. Me and him both, actually, under David."

"No, I mean..." Eddie shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "What did he... How-How did he fuck up?" Eddie lifted his eyes, leg stilling entirely. The room was uncomfortably silent. "What did he do wrong?"

Rick leaned back, the chair groaning slightly. He watched Eddie, how he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, the rings on his fingers catching his eye. Specifically on his third finger, the way he twirled it around his digit with his thumb, fiddling with it anxiously.

Rick sighed heavily out his nose, nodding slowly. "So," He started, leaning forward. "Your girl's pregnant, isn't she?"

Eddie stilled, eyes widening in a dead giveaway. "How-How did you even-"

Rick shrugged, cutting him off. "Ed, you come to me, asking about your dad. You look like shit, like you're about to fucking give out on me at any moment. So either you're being haunted by Clint, or your girl is pregnant. Which is it?"

Eddie's throat bobbed, a hard swallow. "S-She just told me yesterday."

Rick's eyes bulged. "And you left?" He boomed. "Jesus Christ, kid, did you fucking tell her you were leaving?" Eddie's silence was answer enough. "For fuckssake, Ed. Your girl is pregnant and you run? What kind of bum does that?"

"I'm scared, ok!" Eddie exploded, jumping to his feet, arms out in exasperation, voice echoing off the walls. "I-I don't even know what to do, ok? I don't know why I left, I don't know why I'm here, and I don't... fuck, Rick, I don't know how to be a dad."

Rick watched him, his lips pressing together, eyes shining. He'd seen Eddie go head to head with guys double his side, not batting an eye once. He'd seen him get questioned by the feds, too calm and cool for them to crack him ever. Yet here he was, petrified, begging Rick for some sort of answers he wasn't sure he had.

"You wanna know what your dad did wrong?" Rick asked, calmly. "Clint was sloppy."

"Rick, I'm not talking about work. I mean-"

"- He was sloppy at his job, but he was sloppy as a dad, too." Rick said, jaw flexing gently. Eddie's shoulders deflated, blinking at him curiously. "You were young, and your mom... she was great, Ed. She did everything she could to keep you safe, but Clint... Clint was an alcoholic and a junkie who was too busy shoving half the stash up his nose to be a good dad or a good husband."

Eddie's heart dropped, sinking lower and lower into his chest. Rick sighed. "I know that's not what you want to hear. No kid wants to hear their dad's a piece of shit, even if you knew it. It's still shit to hear, but it's true."

"Great. Just great." Eddie threw his hands up. "I'm gonna fuck this kid up just like him and-"

"- Now, hold on." Rick stood, brow furrowed in challenge at Eddie. "When did I say that, huh? I never said that shit, kid. Don't be putting words in my mouth." The hard glare, stoic and serious flashed over Eddie's eyes for a moment before Rick continued.

"You want the truth? My honest to God opinion? Fine." Rick paused, taking a step closer to Eddie. "The fact that you're here. The fact that you're worried about becoming like your dad, worried about being a good dad, worried about keeping them both safe. That's enough to prove to me, that you're not gonna be like your dad."

Eddie hesitated, chin quivering before he clenched his teeth. "But I don't even know how to be a dad. I don't know what to do."

"No one does. Are you kiddin' me?" Rick scoffed. "You think any parent knows what the fuck they're doing? No. But they figure it out together." He glared at Eddie pointedly. "They don't fucking run. They stick around and they figure it out. Since when are you a runner, kid?"

Eddie felt his stomach twist with guilt, heart hammering at the image of you, still in bed, cheeks tear stained and shining in the low light when he slipped out late last night.

"I don't want to fuck up." Eddie whispered, shaky breaths that matched his shaking hands. "Don't want to be like my dad and ruin this kid... Ruin both their lives."

"Eddie, listen to me," Rick placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "You take care of them, you keep them safe, and you love them."

"What if I can't keep them safe?" Eddie rasped, eyes shining with fear.

"You will." Rick nodded, reassuring. "You care way too much. Clint... he got sloppy. You won't be like that."

Eddie nodded, swallowing at the thought of his mother. Rick squeezed his shoulder lightly. "You'll be a good dad, Ed. I know you will be."

"I hope you're right." Eddie said halfheartedly. "Doesn't feel like I'm off to a very good start."

Rick snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well, good thing you got some time to prepare, huh? Got some time to make it up with your missus too. If she doesn't castrate you after this. I wouldn't blame her if she did." Rick glared at him. Eddie nodded, face falling with worry as he looked down.

Rick walked around his desk, pulling the rotary phone and sliding it over to Eddie. "Call her and let her know you're alright." Rick nodded, walking towards the door.

"Thanks, Rick." Eddie muttered, but his eyes were soft, warm and genuine. He spun the dial, fingers tapping on the desk before he turned, speaking lowly into the phone.

Rick heard the shrill from across the room, Eddie flinching at the sound of what he could only assume was his furious wife. He left the room, making his way down the hall towards the bedroom, picking up the other phone off the hook, dialing a number.

"It's me. I need fifteen guys moved down in Hawkins. Back up... Send 'em some good ones down there... Yeah, just some extra muscle..." Rick muttered lowly into the phone. He knew Eddie had it covered, sure he'd be able to keep you both safe, but extra help wouldn't hurt anyone.

***

"She's pissed, Ed." Max muttered when Eddie made his way up the stairs of sidewalk. The redhead's arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him fiercely.

"I don't blame her." Eddie sighed, looking past her into the house. "Anyone else here?"

"Jeff. He calmed her down last night. Me and Gare were looking for you." Max replied. "Jeff told us you were at Rick's and... well, we got the guest room ready for you. Figured you'd be staying there for a while."

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he knew she was right. You had every reason to be mad at him, furious and hurt. His heart lurched at the thought. "Can you get Jeff and... can you both give us some space?" Eddie asked, eyes softening when he looked at Max.

Eddie didn't wait for her response, climbing up the stairs towards the bedroom. He could hear the low rumble of the TV, hesitating for a moment before he turned the knob.

There you sat, perched on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over you, lips twisted and eyes narrowed in a look of pure rage. The dogs in front of you, sitting at alert when Eddie walked in.

"Hi, baby-"

"Don't." You snapped, uncrossing your arms to pound your fist into the mattress. "Don't you fucking dare come in here acting like everything's alright. You left me? You left me?" You sneered, crossing the carpet towards Eddie.

"Baby, I didn't-"

"I wake up and you're gone. Gone. No one knows where you are. Your keys are gone, your cars gone. I didn't get a note, not a word, not so much as a goodbye, I'll be back, a fuck you, nothing!" You jabbed his chest furiously, toe to toe with him. Eddie shrunk under your furious glare.

"I was fucking terrified, Eddie. I thought something had happened, or-or that you..." You shook your head, swallowing around the thought. You couldn't bring yourself to even say it. The harsh truth that you thought was your reality just hours before.

"You left me. You left us." Your hand moved to your stomach, cradling your torso. Eddie's eyes followed, swallowing thickly around your words, around his own guilt. "If you don't want this baby, fine. Just say that, Ed. I'll leave."

"No." Eddie snapped fiercely. You faltered, shocked at his reaction. "No, please don't... I-I fucked up, ok? I was scared and I shouldn't have done that, but I'm not leaving. I'm here now, and I'm here to stay." Eddie grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his own.

"Yeah, for now." You rolled your eyes, turning your head so he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. "Until you decide you don't want to be here-"

"-Don't." Eddie shook his head, jaw flexing with emotion. "It wasn't you or-or the baby." His throat tightened around the words, head spinning at the realization. You were bringing a baby, a real baby into this world. His baby.

"It was me." Eddie croaked, eyes shining wetly, threatening to fall with tears. "I-I just wanna be a good dad. I want to keep you both safe, and-and... I was scared, baby. I was scared I'd be like my dad and-" His face crumpled into itself, a shuttering breath that had his body shaking with sobs.

You reached for him instinctually, pulling him into you with a soothing hand on his head, letting him curl into your neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Eddie rasped. "I won't leave, I fucking swear. I'll keep you both safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." He babbled into your skin.

"I know you won't." You hushed him, cradling his head.

"I won't ever leave you again. I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry." Eddie clung to you, hands balling into the material of your shirt.

"You better not." You gave him a watery smile, cradling his jaw when he pulled back. "I'll take Rick's suggestion up next time. Have your balls on a fucking chain if you do that to me again."

Eddie laughed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I won't." He said sincerely shaking his head.

His hands found your torso, squeezing gently over the place where the baby was. He swore he could feel the swell of your abdomen, a tiny change that had his heart soaring. You'd tell him it was too soon, but he knew it felt different. It was different. You two were going to be parents, bringing a baby- a life into this world.

Eddie worried constantly, endlessly if he'd be a good dad. A million "what ifs" and consuming dark thoughts that wrapped around his mind, leading him to do everything he could to prevent them from coming to fruition. He worried about the labor, about the risks after with new borns, if he'd be able to keep you both safe, if he'd fuck the kid's life up like his dad had his. He wondered if he'd worry forever, that he'd probably never stop, but he did know one thing. He'd be there for you and his baby. He wasn't going to run.