#she doesn’t have a last name yet lol

[spicyicymeloncat]

Nightcord Kaito is actually my favourite virtual singer from project sekai. He’s so angry I love him. (I changed his hair to kinda resemble the character from the original Samsa mv)

[fingertipsmp3]

Bro why are legal websites in the UK so badly designed and clunky and why do they say they’re going to send you a verification email and then they don’t and why is there no button to say “hey I didn’t get my verification email, can you send it again?”

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

[laligraves]

chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3

You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus. 

The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne. 

He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say? 

You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies. 

Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.  

“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out. 

“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair. 

“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool. 

“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.” 

“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically. 

She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip. 

The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy. 

A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous. 

You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so. 

Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper. 

You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it. 

I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you! 

You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass. 

His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly. 

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos. 

The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation. 

His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness. 

“Joel,” you whimper. 

You push back on his hand, overcome with need.

Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt. 

Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise. 

At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.  

“What–” 

“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?” 

You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face. 

“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep. 

He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused. 

“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.  

“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.” 

With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. 

“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”  

Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat. 

“Joel–” 

“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.” 

“No, I didn’t. I–” 

“I knock you up?” 

You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words. 

“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”

“No—“

You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.

You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams. 

“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”   

Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground. 

Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?

“Joel, what are you–” 

His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.” 

“We can’t–” 

Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans. 

Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines. 

He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button. 

 “Joel, please,” you beg. 

But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.

Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back. 

“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps. 

You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. 

The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on. 

He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s. 

“Joel, my sister is inside–” 

He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”

Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock. 

Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful. 

Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.  

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs. 

“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!” 

Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded. 

“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”  

With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp. 

Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples. 

You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.” 

“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger. 

But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.

The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands. 

If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating. 

The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly. 

“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”

His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth. 

“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?” 

Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby. 

He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.  

“Jesus–,” Joel groans. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!” 

The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight. 

Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.

He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck. 

“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps. 

You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.   

“C’mon–fuck.” 

You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you. 

If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you. 

You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body. 

He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down. 

“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.” 

You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see. 

His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking. 

“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”  

The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit. 

He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.

Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss. 

Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body. 

He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close. 

“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy. 

“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–” 

He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again. 

Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you. 

You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum. 

Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move. 

“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks. 

You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point. 

“Full… and sore,” you whisper. 

“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

You roll your eyes and push him off of you. 

“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"

“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?” 

[consciouscarrot]

day 11 - medical kink/doctor x patient [r.lupin]

remus lupin x fem!reader

content warnings; dub/con, innocence, abuse of power (remus), so many pet names, vaginal fingering, p in v, basically ‘hysteria’, very unrealistic loss of virginity (next to no pain mentions, remus doesn’t go slow etc), r thinks she’s been wetting herself slightly but she’s just horny and wet lol, age gap (r is 18, remus’ age is undisclosed but he’s a licensed doctor)

notes; (unintentionally) the longest fic i’ve even written by far, oh my god my thumbs hurt. all likes, comments and reblogs much appreciated. as always mdni

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you’d been guided into the empty room at the doctors office by the bored receptionist, her muttering something about the doctor joining you soon, and to take a seat.

it had been a few minutes since then, you were sat carefully on one of the patients chairs, grasping nervously at the cross hanging between your breasts. the ticking of the clock only amplified your nerves, leg bouncing as you stared at the door, imaging all the ways this appointment could go wrong.

you jumped when the door opened, doctor lupin walked in, smiling widely as he shut and locked the door behind him.

“hello, it’s lovely to see you again, y/n,” he sat down at his chair, not taking his eyes off of you.

you nodded along, not trusting your voice just yet, nails now digging into your bare thighs, skirt shifting higher up your legs.

“now, i was told that you’d been having some female problems, could you tell me more about that?”

avoiding eye contact, you chewed on you lip before attempting to explain your embarrassing situation, “i- um, i’ve been having some- some weird feelings, y’know uh, down there,” you mumbled.

“okay, how long has this been going on for, hm?”

“a few weeks, maybe. it’s- it’s on and off though, not all the time,” what you refused to mention, was that whenever you were experiencing these feelings, was when you were thinking about your hot new doctor.

“yeah? so around the time that i saw you last? why didn’t you mention anything then, sweetheart? it seems to be bothering you an awful lot,”

oh my gosh, this was the most mortifying moment of your life. how on earth were you supposed to tell him that the weird sensations only started happening since you met him.

you’d had to change doctors after you moved house, still living at home with your parents, and had met dr lupin for a standard checkup. you’d instantly become a stuttering mess- much like you were now- at how attractive he was.

you weren’t sure how to answer his question, cheeks flaming, and almost sighed in relief when he clearly pitied you enough to ask something different.

“do you think you could describe what the weird feelings are like, honey? are they painful?” he asks, face twisted in concern.

“no they don’t hurt, it’s like- tingly, i think. feels throbby and uncomfortable. it um-,” you shifted in your seat, eyes locked on your mary-jane clad feet.

“it’s okay, take your time,”

“it makes me pee a little, i keep having to change my- my underwear,” you eyes began to sting in humiliation, knowing that if your parents found out that you’d been wetting yourself at the age of 18, they’d never speak to you again.

“sh, sh there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. are you sure it’s pee? or is it thicker, maybe a clearish-white?”

“yeah, it’s just like that, and it’s sticky too,”

“i think i know the problem, y/n. it’s easily treated, but you’ll need regular treatments with me to keep it contained, okay?” he wheeled his chair closer to his desk, typing something in his computer, nodding when you meekly said okay.

you were beyond relieved that you were going to be okay, that you wouldn’t have to confess your sins to the priest and your parents, that you could be cured by your nice doctor.

“alright, i need you to fully undress, get into this gown and lay down on the bed for me, then we can start the first session,” he gave you no room for arguments, handing you a pale blue hospital gown and turning back to his computer.

you shuffled over to the bed, slowly undressing and blanching at the thought of him seeing you borderline naked. your family were very christian and at a young age you had promised to never ruin yourself, especially not before marriage. you’d never been allowed any boyfriends growing up, always heavily punished if you’d been caught even looking at a boy for too long.

you’d since learnt your lesson, only having girl friends, steering clear of anyone outside of the church and keeping your head down in public. the idea that dr lupin would be seeing you down there, was enough to bring you close to tears.

you peered over your shoulder periodically, nervous that he’d turn around and catch a peep of your bare skin.

slipping into the gown, you climbed onto the bed, laying back as you called out to him that you were ready.

you watched dr lupin set up, snapping on his gloves and sanitising various terrifying looking equipment on his metal table.

“just need you to pop your feet in the stirrups, lovely girl,”

you carefully did as he said, legs spread wide and feeling oh so vulnerable, but terribly scared of disappointing him. you hated it, but a small part of you was loving the way his hands gripped your ankles when he strapped you in, murmuring reassurances about it being for everyone’s safety, thumb stroking along your delicate skin.

eventually, he stood between your legs, blue gloved hands hovering above your private parts, “is it okay if i start? i’ll need to touch you.”

you nodded your consent, breath hitching as he made contact with your very inner thigh, fingertips sliding closer to where the problem originated, his eyes never leaving the area.

“are you having those feelings now? you’re all wet, love,”

a tear finally slipped free, cooling your burning cheeks as you turned your head away, shame consuming you.

“oh baby, it’s okay, i’m gonna help you, you want me to make you feel better?”

you nodded, finally looking up at him with salty tears glittering in your pretty eyes, wanting nothing more than this horrible feeling to go away. you wanted dr lupin to make you all better.

his digits glide over your pussy, your warm slick coating them. you whimper when he hits your sensitive clit, legs twitching in response. the taste of iron coated your tongue, biting down as a pathetic effort to try and keep quiet, mindful of other patients in the waiting room just down the hall.

he slowly started circling it, free hand going to press at your throbbing hole, “fuck, you really aren’t very well, are you poppet? s’alright, i have just the thing to make you feel good again, it’ll fix you right up,”

you cried out when a finger entered you, tight walls spasming around the foreign object. sobbing and shaking, so overcome with pleasure with him working you up to your fast approaching orgasm. you let out a sharp gasp, confused as to what was happening to your body. you were losing control of your movements, and you began to worry that you were being possessed by a demon.

those thoughts were cleared from your mind when you came with a squeal, thighs closing around his hands in an effort to get the overwhelming pleasure to stop. you were astounded that something medical could feel so amazing, or even that it was possible to feel like this at all. you felt very lucky that you had such a good doctor, even if he made you feel flustered.

already, the feeling deep in your belly was starting to be satiated, but you really hoped that there would be more treatment today, as it still lingered and you desperately needed to feel that bliss again.

when he pulled his fingers away, he could see the white substance ringed around them, arousal fluid still connecting your heat to him in strings. his erection was pulsing against his trousers, dampening the fabric there as he tried to hold back from corrupting you too much.

oh well, too late now.

he whispered praises to you, rubbing your thighs and smearing your cum all over them as he tried to calm you down, smiling softly when you reopened your eyes.

“that was intense, huh? you did so well for me, just need one more from you, then you’re all done for today. i know, it’s a lot, but it’s really important that we fully complete the treatment, especially seeing as you shook so much,”

you nodded hazily, head much too clouded in pleasure to be able to take in what he was saying. you’d never felt that good in your life, and you supposed that it was a good thing that you’d gone to the doctors first instead of the priest, feeling much better already.

still so caught up in your mind, you didn’t pay any attention to what dr lupin was doing, not noticing him snapping off his gloves before unbuckling his belt and pulling out his reddened cock.

“this piece of equipment is really gonna make a lot of difference in your recovery,” he said, rubbing his tip along your puffy entrance, groaning quietly when it caught, slipping inside slightly.

you moaned loudly when he finally pushed in, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

dr lupin had to hold still for a moment, trying to hold back from giving you a creampie already at the sight of your virgin blood staining his cock, pearly white and crimson mixing to create a rosy pink that coated him.

checking that you were doing okay, he pulled out until only his tip was left inside of you. fingers grasping at your waist, hard enough that he knew it would leave plum coloured bruising, remus gave you no warning before he began to pound into you, letting out guttural groans as your back arched off the bed.

the clinical paper ripped beneath you, his hips slapping against you, the two of you moaned, fully giving up on staying quiet, getting lost in the feel of each other.

his rough hands grabbed at your ass, tugging you towards him with each thrust, sweat collecting along his hairline. his eyes switched between looking at your face and your pussy, tears still spilling over with a heated face, pussy covered in your shared fluids, throbbing around him.

feeling your high building up again, he held back his own, wanting to finally release together, he lifted a hand off of your ass, circling steadily over your little button to push you over the edge.

the band coiling inside of you finally snapped, and you whimpered as you squirmed around, body shaking uncontrollably. your nails dug into the sides of the bed, trying to hold on as he worked you through your orgasm, groaning out as he too let go.

you felt his hot cum spurting inside of you, moaning at the new feeling, praying internally that this would never end. your previously arched back fell down as your orgasm ended, aftershocks still wracking your body. you were happy that he had gotten to feel this good too, even if you didn’t understand what that fluid was, or why he’d felt pleasure as well.

breathless, his body involuntarily folded itself over in exhaustion, slumping down onto yours. he tried to catch his breath, feeling your chest expand and collapse underneath his face, heart beating wildly.

he slid he cock out of you, and you were just about lucid enough to notice this time that the piece of equipment was attached to his body. you thought it was quite handy to have something so useful joined onto him, wondering if that was a part of the training to become a doctor.

hot cum poured out of your abused hole, trailing down onto the ripped up clinical paper, soaking the already damp material. remus pulled it out from under you, binning it before grabbing a couple of baby wipes from a nearby drawer.

“good girl, did amazing for me, baby. y’might just be my best patient,”

he wiped you down, soothing you when you jolted from the cold feeling of the wipes, unstrapping your ankles, then guiding you into slowly standing and redressing, turning away when necessary but occasionally peering over his shoulder to catch glimpses of your pretty body.

“i think we’ll book you in for another session, let’s say two days from now? is 6:00pm alright with you?” he asked when you were ready to leave.

you quickly agreed, already excited for the next appointment. he helped you out to the car park where your parents were already waiting for you, ignoring the dirty look the receptionist gave the two of you, patiently holding you up as you stumbled along, before subtly patting at your bum, telling you that he can’t wait to see you again.

[evolnoomym]

Washing Machine Heart 🩶

Mom’s Best-friend!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: Your Mom is not nice to you, her only Daughter, always picking on you whenever she can. To get back at her you decide to seduce and fuck her Highschool Best-friend Joel Miller. Oh she also has a crush on him so that’s a bonus.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, implied abuse, childhood trauma, alcohol, smut, reader has no name only nicknames, size difference, age gap, readers age is mentioned and Joel is more than double sooo, mommy issues, strained relationships, petty shit, cream pie, tittys, choking kind of, teasing, Joel is tiny bit Pervy, of course Daddy kink, unprotected p in v,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: I was mad so this is what I cooked up lol

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is my first time writing smut sooooo be nice please. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🖤

Song’s I listened to while writing:

I Hate My Mom by GRLwood

Class of 2013 by Mitski

I hope ur miserable until ur dead by Nessa Barrett

Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

Backstabber by Kesha

Jerk by Oliver Tree

You know exactly when the relationship between you and your mother started deteriorating- The day she decided to choose your loser Stepdad, the one she only dated for 4 years, over her own 8 year old daughter. From then on you took a backseat in her life yet she still expected you to take care of her all needs. You hate her for what she did and you miss her like a little kid. You had to drag her home when she drank too much, you can’t even remember how often that happened. Always having to jump in between that asshole and her fighting cuz even though she practically emotionally abandoned you, you still wanted to protect her from harm's way. She forced you to grow up so quickly, it’s her fault you never got a real childhood.

For years you accepted that this is normal. The screaming, the violence and the degrading words became a part of growing up. You were a kid but not clueless, someone who loves you wouldn’t have done all of this. And yet all of them tried so hard to make you shut up and believe it’s what you deserved.

Luckily what happened did not entirely break you. No, you grew into someone who fought for herself since no one ever did that.

Of course you hoped she might realize her mistakes, apologize and change but nothings new with her. She’s great at pretending to be a better person to the outside world, than she is in reality, behind closed doors the mask unveils an ugly woman. A narcissistic self absorbed monster that took all your joy away.

It’s pathetic considering how much she always talks about getting abused by her own father but instead of breaking the cycle she doubled down on it. Going as far as using that as an excuse for what she did to her own child.

She only kinda stopped the abuse once you no longer were a small child. Now that you could fight back she did not corner you anymore.

But just because she couldn’t hit you anymore doesn’t mean the picking on you stopped, no, it was her mission to rid you of the last remaining confidence and self love.

In each screaming match she tried so hard to gaslight you into believing you were crazy for feeling offended by her disgusting behavior.

One time you asked why she hit you as a little kid and the answer left you completely blown away. She expressed that you cried so much, and did it to provoke her. What else could she have possibly done other than raise her hand?

Or another time she refused to acknowledge that she hit you at all but a second later told you that perhaps if she would’ve done worse you would’ve turned out better.

At some point you stopped calling her Mom and only went with her name. You knew that it must hurt but did she really deserve that title after everything she did?

Now at 21 years old the relationship is just as rocky, not much has changed.

Your mom has basically zero friends, she’s a bitch of course no one would want to be too close, well except for Joel…..Joel Miller that somehow was her friend.

Perhaps only since they have known each other since High School, he might have felt some kind of obligation towards her due to that. She told you once that Joel was the boy every girl had a crush on with his whole guitar playing thing they all swooned over him.

Even now all those years later Joel was a beautiful specimen, tall, broad shoulders, huge hands, strong arms you’d like to be enveloped by, tanned freckled skin, a cute butt, gorgeous brown curls with slightly gray streaks showing his age, big brown eyes, a prominent nose and soft pillow like lips.

You understand why your Mom had a crush on him, any woman would bend over for him if he’d say so. She thought it was not too noticeable but unlike Joel you caught it immediately.

She made you the reason for her life being so shitty but now after years of torment you saw a chance at really giving her a reason to hate you. Maybe something is wrong with you for liking the idea of breaking her heart so much but you honestly couldn’t care less. The one you felt sorry for most was probably Joel; he would be the pawn in your deranged game without knowing.

As it turns out though Joel is not as innocent as expected, the more you tried to get closer the more you realized he might be easier to seduce than originally anticipated.

You started with small things like hugging him a bit longer than normally so he could feel you perky full tits squished against his chest. Touching his arms and squeezing them but not too much as if to draw attention to it. And from his reactions, he did not seem to mind.

You were not worried about your mother, she never was the most alert to begin with.

When Joel came over for a barbecue you used the time alone with him in the garden while your mother was in the kitchen preparing god knows what to impress him.

Joel and you had some interesting conversations.

“Soooo you work in contracting, right?” You asked him sweetly. Joel chuckled “Yeah sweetheart, I do. But ya know tha’ already, so why ask?” You played it off as much as you could “Just making sure you didn't decide to switch career paths in the time I haven’t seen you…” you look up at him through your lashes, cheekily biting your lip. Joel of course fell into the trap, his eyes going down to your plush lips in mere seconds. Got ya you dirty old men.

You stepped closer until you two were only a couple inches apart. His chest almost touched yours. In this position you really had to Crane your neck up to keep eye contact consistent.

“What are ya doing Baby,huh?” Joel tilted his head slightly down towards your face. You just giggled at him “Nothin Joel, just…” with that you put your hands on his wide chest ruining them down over his enticing slightly protruding belly. “I know you stare at my ass alllllll the time. I also know you like it when I walk close by you and graze you with my tits. My little skimpy outfits turn you on as well don’t they,huh Joel?” You smirk at him.

You can see how he clenches his jaw…ohhh yes you got him figured out.

He hisses low and menacing at you “You are a little slut ain’t ya, baby. Groping a man over double your age. Teasin me with those sugar tits and that tight lil ass….”

You can see his pupils dilate till his eyes look close to being completely blacked out. You muse “Yeah I’m a whore but you like that don’t you?” With that you cup his hard cock over his shorts he decided to wear today.

He gasps and immediately grips your wrist to yank those devilish hands away from his throbbing length. Especially when he hears your mother’s voice calling out from inside the house.

He backs off and tries to catch his breath as well as calm his raging hard on down to an unnoticeable minimum. Before he leaves to figure out what she called for he turns to you and lifts an accusing finger towards you.

“We ain’t done baby, ya gonna make it up to me for teasin and leavin me all high and dry, mkay?” He tilts his head almost to intimidate you but to no avail you’re just a massive brat “Hmmm sure Joeliii but i think your underwear is anything but dry.” You giggle and continue “Probably full of pre cum am I right,huh?”

Joel can’t believe what he’s gotten himself into and just shakes his head while turning to the house.

Somehow he made it through the barbecue without your mother noticing any tension between Joel and you. Stupid of her but good for you.

In the weeks after that afternoon you and him kept secretly meeting up. Most of the time at his house or he’d pick you up with his truck to drive you somewhere where he could have you without any distractions, of course when your mom wasn’t home. She might be stupid but even to her it would be weird why you suddenly start taking trips with Joel and she should not be suspicious.

Also during the talks with Joel that happened when taking a break between fucking it was once again made clear that he for whatever reason had not an ounce of knowledge about your mom’s crush.

The plan for how the reveal should go was set in motion. Your mom was driving out to one of those weird grocery stores that sold the health powders she drowned herself in, in hopes of making her more pretty from the inside out but to no avail the rot can’t be reversed.

You knew how long that would take her, it gave you enough time to fuck Joel in her favorite spot on the couch. Yeah petty and perhaps childish but you don’t care make her remember how you defiled her lovely couch with the man she was in love with.

Joel showed up 10 minutes after she drove off. You barely got the door closed behind him before he pounced on you. It’s been a few weeks since you fucked him last, you wanted him to be desperate for it so he’ll might be more focused on pounding you then notice that your mother is returning.

He immediately slotted his lips over yours, his hands grabbing at your hips with urgency.

You spin with him attached to your lips so you can guide him where you want him, on the couch. His breathing is already elevated and by the significantly evident bulge he’s massively turned on. Good, the less rational thinking the better.

While you push him towards the couch his lips slip down your jaw and land on your throat kissing and sucking all over. Between those kisses he huffs “Babyyy - I’ve - missed - ya so - much…” you just hum as an answer and when the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch he’s forced to unlatch from you.

He falls back, his head hitting the soft pillows so he’s only slightly elevated. You wink at him “yeah I bet you have and most of all He has missed me huh? Looks almost painful, did you not touch yourself in meantime?”

He sounds a bit whiny in his response “No Baby haven’t touched myself, saved it all for ya greedy little pussy.” Even when you think to have the upper hand he reminds you how different it actually is. “Come on baby, why don’t ya take of that lil skirt an’ take seat on my lap.” While grabbing at his crotch.

Your mouth is watering but there’s no time today to get your mouth on him like you usually love to. At his dirty words you can feel some wetness gush from your pulsing cunt, coating the inside of your thighs. As requested you slip your flowy skirt down your legs.

Joel let's out a gasp „No panties baby? Ya naughty little slut.“ he chuckles and you retort „Don’t need them if I’m with you, so why make it harder than it needs to be?“ at that Joel can only nod.

„Come here Sweet Moon Love.“ he demands.

You get on your hands and knees between his spread legs that lay on the couch. Slowly crawling towards him teasing him with your tits that are almost spilling out of your skimpy tank top.

When you finally sit down on his jeans-covered cock he lets out a sound of relief. Your knees on either side of his hips and his hands immediately find home on your hips and ass, kneading and caressing the skin there.

„Fuck Moon ya turn me on so much take of that goddamn top and show me those sweet sugar tits.“

So you do, slipping it over your head and throwing it somewhere behind you. He’s not surprised by the lack of a bra. He knows you hate wearing them and if he’s honest he loves that a lot, easier access and all.

Joel’s hands go from your hips up to the tits he loves so much. Carefully touching them, his warm hands and the wonderful feeling making it unable not to moan. Swiping his calloused fingers over your nipples, twisting them with determination causing you to keen.

You start arching your back towards his groping hands. His administrations cause the pull in your lower stomach to Continuously get stronger. You are convinced his jeans are covered in your juices and without realizing you’ve started to rub your bare pussy over his bulge with vigor.

„Joel enough I need you inside me, now!“ You don’t even wait for a response, lifting your hips and loosening his belt and unbuttoning the buttons of his jeans. With his help you drag his pants down but only so much that you are able to pull his throbbing cock out of the confines that are his blue boxers and you can see a huge dark spot where pre cum leaked, making you look at Joel chuckling „You really want it huh? Daddy” with a sweet lilt that makes his dick Twitch in your hands.

He just groans “Baby Moon if ya don’t sit down on my cock right now I’ll do it myself and I won’t give ya time to adjust.” He threatens but it really only turns you on more.

You peer up at the clock and see that you only have about 15 minutes left.

You take your original position and when his warm length slips through your moist folds his pre cum mixing with your own juices to create an addicting squelching sound.

At this point the dark hair nestling at the base of his cock and his happy trail are completely soaked.

“Gosh, Sweetheart she’s gushing all over me, put it in. She wants my cock don’t keep her waitin” you love when he talks in this way about your cunt, makes you wetter if that’s even possible.

You lift up a bit again and take hold of his length with one hand, the other on his chest to stabilize yourself. Dragging his leaking head through your glossy folds before lining him up with your gushing opening. You take one deep inhale cuz you know it’ll be a stretch even with how often you've done this.

Before sinking down on him you look at him there’s guilt somewhere deep in your conscience but you shake your head, you ain’t backing out now.

You slowly start to sink down when Joel decides it’s not quick enough so he grips your hips and in one swift fast motion sheets his huge dick inside your tight cunt.

“Ahhh..-ah J-Joel what the fuck” you hiss slapping his chest hard for being so impatient.

He huffs “Sorry Baby but Daddy has waited long enough for Her, just shush.” He actually has the audacity to shush you.

You get used to the feeling of being so filled to the brim and slide back & forth for a moment.

Then you put your feet down flat on the couch and grip the headrest behind him before starting to fuck him in earnest. Up and down at first slowly but steadily you get quicker and harder. Joel can’t even speak unless you count his obnoxiously loud moaning and growling.

“Yeah how you like that old man, hmm Daddy you're all quiet this pussy shut you up good, huh?” You wonder and out of nowhere one of Joel’s big hands grips your throat making you slow your movements to a minimum. He pulls your face toward his and grunts “Baby Moon ya need to be put in your place, ya bratty ass is treading on some mighty thin ice.”

He gives you one hard peck and then shoves your face in his neck. You don’t complain, you love when he’s so rough with you and his musky masculine smell is your favorite.

Joel pulls his legs up and plants his feet on the couch just like you did and then he starts to relentlessly push up into you at an alarming speed so hard that if it weren’t for the arm pinning you to his chest you’d fall off.

“Jo-Joel….Joel it’s so good ah…don’t stop” you babble in his ear and opposite to his harsh pounding he soothes “Shhh Baby I know, I know it’s so much for ya and Her. But listen to how much she’s enjoying it.”

And he’s right besides the obscene “plap, plap, plap” of skin hitting skin you can hear the wet squelching from the place you're both connected. “I’m close baby, where?” He asks while slipping a hand between your bodies to touch your neglected clit and immediately your whiny moans get even louder “I-in…inside Daddy. Pleaseee cum inside me.”

You beg and he loves that “Hmm yeah, ya wanna be filled up Baby?” He questions “God yes Daddy fill me up, please pleasee” you want nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you.

Seems that when Joel told you he was kinda deaf in his right ear it wasn’t a lie or maybe the plan of making him so desperate to fuck you that he won’t hear the door unlocking worked out.

But you can hear the slight clicking and the closing of the door. Unlike what you expect she does not start screaming, no, she’s eerily quiet. Perhaps it’s due to not having realized who exactly you're screwing as if there’s no tomorrow or simple shock.

Joel under you seems to have reached his end and without any preamble he starts shooting his warm cum deep inside your tight hole. The warm sensation combined with his unrelenting rubbing your clit pushes you over the finish line too. With that you pull up from his neck and drag him up as well, crossing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

You know she is right there at the threshold, you don’t care and to rub it in even more you say “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” And as if he knows his role Joel answers “I love you too little Moon.”

And that might have been the final straw, she speaks up and it flips out into incoherent screaming. Joel is immediately startled; he lightly pushes you off, quickly tugging himself back into his jeans and getting up to explain. You however get up slowly and put your top and skirt back on.

With the lack of panties you can feel his spend leaking out of you and you’re sure there’s very evident stains on Joel’s jeans that your mother must see.

The back and forth they must be having doesn’t even register to you. The blissful buzzing from the orgasm and the satisfaction of having succeeded in hurting her are making you all dozzy.

But then she comes charging at you screaming in your face “You’re smiling, you think this is funny??? I knew you were a bitch who only ruins everything, you are a worthless piece of shit a absolute waste of space” she’s so hysterical but you don’t care, it’s good she’s showing her true colors for Joel to see.

She continues “You are disgraceful and shameful for the entire family. I want you out of the house now. You are dead to me.” She probably thinks those words could hurt but it’s nothing compared to all the horrible things she did in the past. You just smirk at her nodding which infuriates her more than any comeback could.

With that you slip past her, Joel looks completely stunned by what just unfolded before his eyes. You don’t acknowledge him much, quickly skipping up the stairs,entering your room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it with the most important items. Then shuffling out of your room locking it behind you. You heave the suitcase down the stairs, no sign of Joel all you can hear is her crying in the living room, it amuses you, not an ounce of sympathy left for her. You don’t bother saying bye just open the front door and out you are.

The surprise is waiting in front of the house, Joel, he didn’t leave but instead waited for you.

He looks at you “Did it mean anything to you at all, or was it just a big joke?” He doesn’t look hurt, just confused. You close the distance between him and you “I wish it wouldn’t but it’s not possible to not feel anything, look at you Joel you’re a so beautiful so caring of course I fell for you.” He nods and takes your suitcase out of your hand. “Wh..what are you doing ?” You question “I’m taking ya home Moon, think I’d let you run around these streets? Get in the car” he urges.

And you do, when he drives off you don’t look back once.

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @sizzlingcloudmentality @the-mandawhor1an @clawdee @penvisions 🩶

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[sunaluv]

Come get your man, come get your man!

In which someone has an obvious crush on your man

Feat: suna, nagi, ran, eren

Ignore the pairings I’m indecisive lols

SUNA RINTARO

“Hey you’re suna’s girlfriend right?” You looked up to see a girl with a stretched smile looking at you expectedly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You asked, seeing no reason to be hostile yet.

“So nice to meet you! I sit next to him in english, you could say he’s kinda my english boyfriend,”

Oh.

You knew suna was attractive and you had a feeling this was inevitable, but that does not stop the shock of the situation.

“He told me about you, said you had a weird sense of humor,” you replied with a tight lipped smile.

‘He didn’t say that, he just said she was weird’ you thought.

“Omg so he does talk about me! It’s so weird, he like totally ignores me but it’s nice to know he talks to others about me,”

Now you were more amused than anything.

“But anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you, girl to girl is that I think he might be into me a bit-not trying to sabotage your relationship it’s just… if it was me, I’d want someone to tell me.” She sat down next to you, putting an hand on your arm in faux comfort.

A voice called her name “what are you doing here.”

Like a deer caught in headlight, the girl stammered over her words “suna, I was just talking to your girlfriend about us.”

“There is no ‘us’” he deadpanned.

You watched amused as she accused suna of leading her on, saying how she kept borrowing pencils from her, or not moving his knee all the time when they’d touch and other absurd accusations on why he’s into her.

When she stormed off embarrassed and heartbroken, he sat next to you.

“Why did you intervene? I was having fun getting to know your english girlfriend,” you teased making him groan.

RAN HAITANI

“Omg you’re so pretty!”

Your boyfriend was on the other side of the nightclub dealing with who knows what as you smiled at the girl who had been gassing you for the past 2 minutes.

“I’m so glad stinky old ran found such a beauty like you, how did he cuff you?” She looked around as if searching for someone before leaning in close to speak over the booming music of the club.

“Just asking to check, he told you about us right?”

What us? “No he didn’t, what’s up with that?”

She sent an apologetic look. “He was here last week and we kinda…hooked up. Im not trying to be a homewrecker I just thought you should know.”

This liar, last week he had flown out with you on holiday for the week. You had arrived two days ago due to his business needing him.

But she didn’t need to know that.

“Omg no way, he’s cheating on me!” You faked hurt.

“Im sorry girl, I-“

“Why are you like this,” Your boyfriends strong groan cut into your conversation.

“Stop lying to her ran, she doesn’t deserve this! Come clean right now, you and I hooked up in that bathroom last we-“

“We weren’t in the country last week, dumbass.”

She froze and as if piecing everything together, she was about to fume at you. You knew she was lying and embarrassed her like that.

“You sly little-“

Before she could finish, ran was already pulling you away from her and leading you towards the back of the nightclub.

“I hate you by the way,” he sulked before you could even begin to poke fun at him.

NAGI SEISHIRO

You stared at your boyfriends ringing phone next to you, then back to said man who was absentmindedly clicking on his keyboard.

“Baby can you get that for me?”

You agreed, pressing accept on the incoming call from a random girls name that you’ve heard in passing from Nagi himself, nothing to be worried about, quite the opposite actually.

He keeps complaining about how she won’t leave him alone, but you defended the girl you didn’t know, saying maybe she was friendly.

Answering the call, a pretty girl sat infront of the window, neck angled so that the gold light shined on her face.

She obviously wasn’t expecting to see you, as she quickly adjusted her position to a more casual setting.

“Uhm hello, you must be sei’s friend, can you put him on the phone?” She asked, not hiding her distaste that your man wasn’t the one answering the phone.

“Girlfriend,” you corrected. “And he’s busy right now, I can get him to call you back if you want,”

She glared at you seeing you not let down. “Okay I guess. Just tell him it’s KK calling, he’ll come to me.”

You sent her a challenging look before relaying the message to the man three meters away from you nice and loud so she can hear.

“Hang up.” You saw her eyes widen and didn’t bother to hide your smile.

“What was that?” You asked.

He repeated himself, not realising she could still hear him, but before you could hang up, she had already done it, too embarrassed to face the girl who has what she wanted.

“You see what I mean now?”

EREN YEAGER

You stood in between the spread legs of your boyfriend in the party hosts kitchen as his big arms held your back to his chest. His long legs kicked the cabinets as he swung his legs, staring down the girl stood across the room.

“Why are you staring at me?” She asked giggling seductively.

“You’re being weird.”

“Whatever,” she smiled, rolling her eyes.

You fiddled with the necklace eren bought you for your anniversary, which seemed to get her attention.

“Cute chain girl,” she covered her annoyance with intrigue. “Did yeager boy here get it for you?”

You sent her a look, nodding to confirm.

“Omg that reminds me of this one time when we went on holiday together, you remember that ‘ren? When you bought me that cute set?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

You knew exactly what she was doing and it wasn’t going to work. It’s such a shame she had to act like this too, she was pretty, you’ll admit.

You trusted your man, he gave you a head up about the girl who leeched on to him, warning you about all the lies and deception she would try to drill in your mind.

“That was back in Spain right? He bought a extras while looking for this one right?” You smiled at her innocently.

“Wowwww, you told her about me eren? I’m so flattered” if she was pissed, and you knew she was, she didn’t show it.

“Mhm he told me all about you, about how you leech on to him at any chance you get.”

She let out loud, forced laughter “she’s a funny one yeager, make sure you keep a tight leash on this one.” She looked at you and you swore you saw her eye twitch.

The pair of you stayed silent as you watched her aggressively walk back towards the party.

“You’re better than me you know, if any of your guy friends started to act like that I would’ve beat his ass,”

You chuckled, turning in his hold to face him. “Good thing you were holding me because one more second and I would have.”

God he was so in love with you.

[aozui]

YUJI had a baseball cap phase, you can’t convince me otherwise. alternatively: I MISS THE TRIO BADDDD :((

for the ones who wear claw clips: he’d be the type of boyfriend to put yours on the back strap, parading it around like he would an ‘I ❤️ MY GF’ tee (he has one of those too), and he wears his relationship on his sleeve. on his forehead, actually. he never shuts up about you.

“he’s like a walking billboard for her,” nobara scoffs, “you can’t be telling a curse ‘I’m gonna marry the shit out of my girl’, moron. especially not two seconds before blowing their brains out.”

itadori shrugged, “I am going to marry her.”

“that wasn’t my point, airhead! don’t you have any morals?” nobara yells from below as she hammers a nail into a disfigured blob—exorcizing it. last of many.

the trio were on yet another mission, a minor one. yuji had been texting you the whole ride there. megumi rolled his eyes so far back into his head you could see the whites, nobara fake-gagged a few times.

“stop being such a wet blanket, kugisaki.”

“..where’d you learn to say that?”

(they both look at megumi)

“what?” megumi’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. from that angle, he sort of looked like his dad. the one that stepped up I mean! not the other one.

“nothing.” (yuji, nobara, in unison)

safety makes you careless. they’ve gotten used to these back and forths on the walks back to the dorms. it makes their youth feel less abnormal; as much as either of them would hate to admit, they’re all each other has. it’s no surprise that they get defensive over him when it comes to you. it doesn’t help that you’re from jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.

itadori thinks of you a borderline unhealthy amount, and they can’t deny the expression he makes when he does. happy he’s happy. his phone buzzes in his hand,

yuji 7:88 AM: soooooooo tired

you 8:03 AM: mission? sorry slept in pretty late

yuji 10:11 AM: yeah 👎

yuji 12:00 PM: I miss you

yuji 12:00 PM: fushiguro keeps glaring at me LOL I think he’s jealous I’m texting you. or that I have someone to text at all aha

new message! you 1:55 PM: 😭 maybe he just doesn’t like.. me

he frowns at this. the other two are having a debate over dinner. or something. he’s not paying attention.

you 1:56 PM: how’d the mission go?

you 1:56 PM: [3 attachments] had a late lunch with miwa <3

itadori’s developed a habit of fiddling with your things when he misses you. he pulls at the hair ties you’ve lost on his wrist, touches whatever marks you left on him the last time he saw you in person. and of course, the clip.. that.. isn’t.. there? they must notice the panic on his face, because they stop talking, while he frantically pats himself down, swearing under his breath.

“did you lose something?” someone asks. he isn’t sure who. everything was starting to blur.

your name is in white gemmed cursive on the hair accessory—black, matching his current favorite cap.

yuji started to get sentimental when he realized how precious life is, how unfair it is that death doesn’t pick favorites. he figures that if you’re going to lose someone, at least remember them. and what better way to remember than holding onto something that belonged to them?

it might’ve been the weight of the day. it was probably just his head messing with him. the trauma from seeing so many lives get taken away in front of him. supposedly a flaw in mindset. an aftereffect of trauma. but he was losing his mind over a hairclip.

it was yours, and you trusted him with it. he can already hear the “it’s fine, I’ll just get a new one.” yet the guilt still gnaws at him from the inside.

“are you turning pale?” he’s almost sure it was nobara.

they were worried. the voices kept getting smaller and smaller—more concerned by the minute. by the time itadori realizes he’s having a panic attack, he’s in a different place: sat next to you in a hospital waiting room, claw clip in your right hand, left hand in his.

he recognizes it from somewhere, the hospital.

he feels like he’s been here before. he chooses to assume it’s the familiarity of having you around.

you notice him staring, and give him a disarming smile. yuji feels his entire body relax.

how can the sight of someone feel so good?

“they found it a block away from where fushiguro called the ambulance.” you lean on his shoulder as he runs circles on your palm with his thumb—watching the nurses and patients pass along. “he was worried about you. they both were.”

itadori’s quiet, so you keep going.

“I wouldn’t have been upset.”

“I know.”

“you do?”

he nods. “I just don’t like losing things.” and it feels like some kind of cursed metaphor for the things he leaves unsaid, the things he hasn’t healed from. it feels like a secret. both of you let the statement seep.

“you won’t lose me.”

yuji looks up at you, waiting for more.

“nobara told me you wanted to marry me. and to call her nobara from now on,” you laugh, “I think I’ve been accepted somehow.” he grins at that.

“I would’ve said yes.” “..yaga would’ve scolded me.”

“because we’re young?”

“because I’m a moron, apparently everyone thinks.”

“I don’t think so.” “well you’re different.”

you two sit there for awhile, talking about things that matter, things that don’t matter. normalcy—the sole thing he craves, he has with you.

“I’m never putting baseball cap on ever again.” he says, serious all of a sudden.

you pale. “let’s not say anything we don’t mean.”

the next week, he had a new one on, because you bought it. said it looked good on him. you’ve always had a way of giving itadori a new perspective, anyway. people may think your relationship is weird. that you’re a moron for choosing the moron. none of that matters, though. you’re his anchor, and he’s yours.

A/N excuse any typos and grammatical errors, haven’t been feeling like myself lately so this was just a 3am brainbaby </3 don’t love this & I might delete later, I’ll let it sit for now

masterlist

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 

John’s icon dims. 

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 

He tried to call as often as he could. 

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening. 

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 

You steel yourself and raise the box. 

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 

Pregnant. 

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

TAGS:

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[dannyricsmirrorball]

tying the knot • cl16 part 3 ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing || charles leclerc x gasly!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || baby fever is a disease and it’s contagious!

alt. y/n is pierre’s younger sister. there’s no way she’s dating his best friend aka her childhood friend… right?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ warning || google translate 😬 again lol

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || so initially thought this would be the last one but alas it is not… so one or two more party’s left! also charles on POLEEEEE LFG

NOT PROOF READ YET!

part 1 part 2

liked by francisca.cgomes, luisinhaoliveira99, and 276,646 others

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landonorris y/n jpg coming????

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lilymhe COME BACK NOW

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⤷ alex_albon really. how soon is soon?🙄

⤷ yourusername blah blah haterrrrrr

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 126,727 others

yourusername past couple months

username91 oh to be y/n gasly 🫠

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⤷ username16 y/n leclerc. sounds pretty good to me.

username9 always a ferrari gal ❤️

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username9 even tho i’d love to know who he is, i still love the cute pics y/n posts of her and her husband

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liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63, and 186,870 others

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tagged carla.brocker, charlotte2304, lilymhe, alex_albon, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes

username16 the charles shirt 😭

username73 more charles x y/n content. we are winningggg.

username72 ahhh i love all her friendships especially w alex and lily

maxverstappen1 nice shirt 👍

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⤷ alex_albon it wasn’t all me!!!

⤷ charles_leclerc don’t worry alex, ik lily was the mastermind 😒

⤷ lilymhe what’s it to u???! it’s funnyyyy

charles_leclerc never letting u take the wheel again

⤷ yourusername boooo whatevaaaa

liked by joris__trouche, yourusername, and 11,829 others

mlnmarta un début octobre sur la côte d'azur ur

translation: an early october on the french riviera

tagged riccardobenetta, charles_leclerc

yourusername mon coeur explose 🥹❤️‍🔥

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⤷ mlnmarta nous aussi ❤️

username16 y/n freaking out is so realllll

joris__trouche boubouuuu 🥹

charlottesiine bébé chiara 😍💕

username11 omfg charles w a baby. i’m on the floor.

charles_leclerc 🤍

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, alex_albon, and 192,082 others

yourusername ma petite fille 🩷

tagged yourfriend1

username17 y/n w kids 🥰

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landonorris don’t drop her 😳

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⤷ yourusername maman! 😅

⤷ lorenzotl 😂

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liked by lilymhe, yourfriend1, and 175,982 others

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tagged yourfriend1, yourfriend2

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username74 baby fever arising

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⤷ alex_albon owned.

liked by mlnmarta, yourusername, and 887,838 others

charles_leclerc pourquoi tous nos amis ont des bébés?

translation: why do all our friends have babies?

tagged mlnmarta, riccardoberetta, yourfriend1, yourusername

username18 lmfao y/n and charles rlly are just surrounded by a bunch of babies and toddlers

username15 i’m actually dead at the amount of charles and y/n x babies content we’ve been getting

username54 charles acting like we don’t know he has the biggest baby fever ever… i mean look at talk the reels he likes

⤷ username7 same as y/n like that baby fever has KICKED IN

riccardoberetta ❤️

yourusername 🥹

username82 does no one else find all these baby posts from y/n and charles a bit… suspicious

⤷ username72 no? u guys need to get over this agenda, like they’re just childhood friends

pierregasly surprised u know how to hold one mate

⤷ charles_leclerc cant say the same for u

landonorris y/n looks like she’s going to eat the poor thing

⤷ charles_leclerc i think she wanted to 😅

⤷ yourusername U DIDNT SEE HIS LITTLE CHEEKS 🥹

mlnmarta 😍

liked by friend1, luisinhaoliveira99, and 198,827 others

yourusername j'en veux un

translation: i want one

tagged yourfriend2, mlnmarta

yourfriend2 😳 ummmm please return my baby b4 u say these things…

⤷ yourfriend1 don’t trust her.

⤷ yourusername whatever do u mean… ☺️☺️

username9 ik we were all joking abt y/n having baby fever but i fr think she does

username88 girly just got married and she already wants a baby LMFAO

⤷ username72 i mean i would to if charles leclerc was my husband

⤷ username2 average delulu charles y/n stan

username82 that pic of charles and baby c moved and changed y/n and that is so relatable of her

⤷ username26 literally SAME

landonorris have u seen ur laundry room?

⤷ yourusername shut up. you’re literally a child.

pierregasly oh? 😀

lilymhe MILF MILF MILF MILF MILF

⤷ yourusername LET’S BE MILFS TOGETHER

⤷ lilymhe OMFG YES

⤷ alex_albon oh! 😃🤨

username18 don’t mind her. she’s going through a phase 😬

danielricciardo i knew there was a reason u begged to come back to the farm w me! u wanted to steal my nephews and nieces 🫨

⤷ yourusername they’re just so cutieful 🥹🥹

username17 wild y/n on the loose! hide ur kids!!!

joris__trouche u guys are too much 🤣🤣

⤷ username91 what does he mean ‘you guys’… when i tell u everything is piling onto my charles y/n agenda 😗

mlnmarta si mignon, baby c tu manques 🌸🌸

⤷ yourusername I MISS HER 🥹😘❤️

liked by lorenzotl, charles_leclerc, and 19,092 others

charlotte2304 what a weekend 🏎️❤️

tagged carla.brocker, francisca.cgomes

carla.brocker 🩷🩷

username17 where’s y/n lol

francisca.cgomes 💕

lorenzotl ma belle

username72 leclerc wagsss so pretty

username01 where’s y/n?!

username18 y/n has NEVER missed monza. where is she?!

username89 leclerc wags w/o y/n 🥺

liked by pierregasly, alpinef1team, and 198,038 others

francisca.cgomes 🇮🇹

username9 the prettiest gal in the paddock

username14 her fits 😍😍

username16 miss y/n and kika in the paddock together

⤷ username81 please it’s one race 🙄

pierregasly 🤍

charlotte2304 😍

carla.brocker 💘

username17 i needddd her dress

luisinhaoliveira99 so pretty 💘🌸

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, and 109,882 others

lilymhe p7 for my mansssss 🍝

tagged alex_albon

username23 his good luck charm!!!

username41 she looks so bored w/o y/n

username18 lily where’s y/n?!!!

⤷ username16 fr where is she?! she never misses monza!

alex_albon 🐐🐐

williamsracing monza minister of defenseeeee 📣📣

2 years later // 2025

liked by lilymhe, isahernaez, and 239,092 others

francisca.cgomes famfun&friends

username53 sweetest couple

username18 missing y/n and kika hoursss

username21 it’s been two years. where is y/n hiding!!!

username14 every time kika or pierre or lily or like anyone posts i cross my fingers that y/n is in a pic and i’m always disappointed

pierregasly ma belle 😘

lando.jpg pic creds??

⤷ francisca.cgomes desculpe lan

⤷ username17 if u had told me 2-3 years ago that lando and kika were mates i would’ve been shocked

⤷ username4 it’s all thanks to y/n… she brought together all those random pairings bc they were all friends w her… and now she’s no where to be found 🫠

charles_leclerc stop taking my man 🤬

⤷ francisca.cgomes then give me back my girl!!!

⤷ username16 GIRL?!? 😳

⤷ username68 charles has a gf?!

⤷ username45 OMFG

⤷ username63 it’s y/n guys… like trust meeeee

⤷ username78 pack it up granny

⤷ charles_leclerc no girlfriend

⤷ username16 OH?! officially confused.

liked by alex_albon, carmenmmundt, and 109,838 others

lilymhe recent 🌃

tagged francisca.cgomes, alex_albon, carmenmmundt, heidiberger_, charles_leclerc

username1 i’m actually so emo bc where tf is y/n

username82 lily hanging out w charles has rlly reminded me how much i miss y/n. like what happened? where did she go!!

username17 all the best wagssss

alex_albon ✌️

heidiberger_ ilyyyyy

⤷ lilymhe mwahhhh

username76 all of them hanging out without y/n feels sooo wrong

⤷ username73 it’s been TWO years bro like get over it

⤷ username14 how do u know that she’s not there? they might just not post photos of her bc she wants privacy lol

⤷ username54 WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING!! like everyone has been throwing a hissy for the past two years abt y/n and where she is but like are we forgetting that kika is her sister-in-law and pierre is her literal brother also she grew up w the leclercs and lily has been her best friend for like over five years - i guarantee she just doesn’t have a presence on social media but is surely still in their lives

charles_leclerc traitor! i look like an idiot

⤷ lilymhe well i mean…

⤷ charles_leclerc wounded

francisca.cgomes miss u ml x

carmenmmundt 🤍

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, and 8,092,260 others

charles_leclerc no words. ❤️

tagged f1, scuderiaferrari

username18 “for the first time ever, charles leclerc is champion of the world!” was music to my earssss

username61 LFGGGGGG

username92 ⭐️boyyyyy

username16 il predestinato fulfils the prophecy

scuderiaferrari il formidable, il predestinato ❤️❤️

carlossainz55 deserved hermano. felicidades!

pierregasly félicitations mon frère 🫶

lorenzotl waouh charles ❤️🤍

landonorris congrats mate 😘

francisca.cgomes congratulations charles!!! 🫶💘

joris__trouche bravo mon beaux 😉😘

yourusername jamais été aussi fier de réaliser vos rêves! champion du monde ❤️ toujours à vos côtés 🤍

translation: never been prouder, fulfilling your dreams! champion of the world. forever by your side

⤷ charles_leclerc pour toujours

username71 UMMMM Y/N???!!

username8 after years of radio silence the first sign of y/n is her congratulating charles on his wdc 😭😭 they are soulmates, u cna not make this shit up

alex_albon 🔝 job charlie

lilymhe 👏👏

arthur_leclerc bon travail frère ❤️🤍

leclerc_pascale mon bébé 🥰

georgerussell63 let’s gooo 👍👏

lewishamilton 💜

username16 the way y/n’s comment is the only one charles replied too 👀

taglist: @chalecbooks @lxclerc @1655clean @dl-yum @honey6578 @lillianacristina @xcinnamongirl @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii!

(If you’re not up for it simply ignore. I love your work and hope you’re happy and healthy and taking care of your own mental health ❤️)

The bat boys with a reader who has really low days and really just wants to be held?

I just wanted an excuse to add Kyle Rayner as a bonus cuz I’ve been wanting to write something for him but dunno what. Plus I’ve been needing something like this after the week I’ve just had lol.

Dick would smile softly as he held you in his arms, tightening his grip on you as he peppers you in kisses however he could.

He knew that days like these were the hardest for you and he wasn’t going to hold it against you, not in the slightest as he would softly hum a song to you as he carried you to your shared bed, Hayley hot on his heels as she was worried about your change of attitude.

Speaking of Hayley, she never leaves your side, in fact when she sees Dick hold you against him , she immeditly joins in and tries to wriggle her way in between you both in hopes of covering your face in comforting licks. She wants to see you happy and she’ll gladly cuddle up with you if that’s the only way to do it.

Dick would spoil you rotten with cuddles, kisses and words of encouragement when you felt as though all hope was lost, for the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though no one had you back when he did this entire time of being together.

‘You’re amazing baby and I’m so fucking proud of you, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise you otherwise because you outshine them without having to try.’ He says while pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Dick would gladly make a fool of himself if it was to make you feel better but holding you, kissing you, and praising you will have to do for the meantime as he could hope that he has given you the strength needed to get out of this dark place that you’ve found yourself in.

He believes you can do it but until then he’ll gladly hold you until you could stand on your own two feet again.

Jason doesn’t need to be told twice as he was well aware of what you want the moment you came through the door of your shared bedroom.

‘Come here sweetheart.’ He would say as he sets aside his book and held out his arms for you to burrow into as you rested your head on his chest, arms latching onto his waist with an iron like grip.

He didn’t need to ask about the day you’ve had for he could feel the fatigue and weariness within your body and the deep sigh that left your lips that told him you have been holding in for a long while. Your body practically radiated with tiredness in all its forms that made it impossible for him to ignore even if he tried.

‘Rest your heavy head and your weary eyes chipmunk,’ he tells you as he begins to rub up and down your back soothingly, ‘I’ll be right here when you wake up, so just relax for me okay?’

You hummed out a small and a tad muffled ‘okay’ and Jason presses a kiss to the side of your head as he tightens his hold on you. He’d even read passages of his book to you in hopes the tit would take your mind off of things quicker as he knew how much you liked the sound of his voice.

Jason knows there’s want much he could do when you experienced days like these but all he could hope was that he was making enough of an effort to make you feel just that little bit better.

Tim makes sure he has everything you could ever need during days like these such as your favourite plushie, blanket, comfort foods, and some water just to name a few as he wants you to be comfortable and taken care of if he was to not be moving away from the bed anytime soon as he held you in his arms.

He just wants you to be okay and doesn’t want you run in on an empty stomach.

‘We’re human, we have limitations and breaking points that tell us to stop and take a break for ourselves, but yet we have been made to think that we shouldn’t and that we should neglect our health and well-being for temporary achievements and successes; almost as if that’s the only thing that should mean something to us.’ Tim tells you as he cuddles you against his chest as a movie played on his laptop as background noise.

‘You’ve done so well for yourself and now your more then deserving of a rest, we’ll return to reality in our own time, we’ve got enough of it that it shouldn’t matter whether we’re still here an hour or two later.’ Tim continues as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

And he meant it, Tim didn’t care how kind he’d have to wait for you to get better because he understood that it wasn’t going to be as easy, having had shit days where he couldn’t be bothered to bring himself to do anything other then lay in his bed, wondering to himself about what he could’ve done to feel such deep pain and isolation.

He knew that it would take time for you to feel even remotely better and even when you did you’ll still need all the help you can possibly get, and he’ll be there for as long as you’ll need him there too.

Damian isn’t well versed in the art of comforting someone but with you, suddenly he’s an expert as he lets you flop against his side as he holds you protectively.

He doesn’t trust his words enough to bring you any comfort as he wasn’t given much himself when he was growing up, so Damian instead just lets you cling onto him and watch in silence as he draws whatever in his sketchbooks: in this instance it was quick sketch of you, him and all of his pets on a field somewhere.

Damian knew his drawings were somewhat therapeutic to you as you got to watch him go through every step he took to make the perfect drawing, no matter if it was heavily detailed or less so, that and he was proud of his artwork that he doesn’t mind showing you some of his precious works and telling you the stories behind them.

Titus joins you, obviously, as he could tell something was wrong with you and will lay in your lap to provide you with some comfort until he’s fallen fast asleep, rendering it impossible for you to move but you didn’t care and neither did Damian as you were surly to follow the Great Dane into dream land where you would be laying in that field that Damian drew.

You were a lot more stronger then you let yourself believe in Damian’s eyes but that didn’t mean he wasn’t more then content in holding you in comfortable silence until you felt better, even if it was just a little bit but even then Damian was determined to outdo himself and find other ways of helping you no matter what.

He just wants to see that smile he loved so much again that told him that everything was going to be okay.

Random Bonus character: Kyle Rayner

Kyle hates seeing you so down and will do absolutely anything and everything he could even if it meant only getting a little smile out of you he’d take it wholeheartedly!

Anything was better then that distant, solemn look on your face as you stared out the window as though life didn’t look as bright or pleasant anymore as it did before.

He’d conjure up anything your heart desired if that helped even by the smallest amount, any amount of progress was better then none. Kyle just wants to see your eyes light up again with childlike wonder again, even if it was momentarily.

However he doesn’t mind if him holding you in his arms was the only way to achieve such a thing as he could keep you close and squeeze you tightly as he tries to pour everything encouraging into your ears in low hushed whispers.

‘You’ll be okay,’ Kyle begins, ‘whether that’s within days, weeks or even months, you’ll be okay. You’re not missing out on anything nor are you going about life at a slower pace compared to others, you’re going at your own pace and that’s okay, you’ll get where you need to be in due time so there’s no point in rushing yourself to get there quicker.’

Kyle would even do some silly little doodles for you just to hear you chuckle or even let out an amused huff. He’d gladly make himself look silly if it meant brining a little light to your heart and life back into your eyes.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 6

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything 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. 

CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.

AN: I don't think I understood the term "labour of love" until right now. I'm emotionally exhausted yet so fucking proud at the same time. Thank you @lotusbxtch for fixing all my grammar and formatting. I also couldn't of done this without @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69, @alltheirdamn, and @for-a-longlongtime (even if you did just try to distract me with Santi the entire time LOL)

Word Count: 14.6k (sorry, grab a snack or two)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

CW: use of petnames, mention of losing a spouse, mentions of child abuse (mostly verbal), use of nick names (baby, sweet girl, etc.), dirty talk, spanking, sexual activity in public, kissing, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), consumption of alcohol, mutual pining, mentions of falling in love, Dom/sub dynamics.

You: 911, I need to go buy a dress, but ya’ll can’t ask me what it’s for Laren: no strings attached shopping? Fuck yeah!  You: I’m serious though Laren: Dude, I won’t ask you as long as you don’t ask about the hickey on my neck Jamie: Damn, my dad’s in California so I can’t leave the office. You: hmm…maybe we just tell each other one secret each Laren: oh sorry, forgot I have to vacuum my cat today, can’t shop You: fine, no asking about the hickey. Pick you up at noon? Jamie: Have fun. I need a sugar daddy. Odette: booo! I’m studying. Someone alert me when we learn about the hickey. 

You

Laren’s jaw drops as you step out of the dressing room, the soft silk of the floor length black gown skims against your body. Your eyes trail down the thin straps along your shoulders and down the deep v that sits low on your sternum. You’ve never appreciated your small breasts until now. The risque cut has a soft and romantic feel. Somehow, so does the long slit up your one leg, stopping much higher than most black tie venues would find acceptable. You spin to take in the way the silk dips low on your back. Yeah, Joel Miller is going to love this. 

“You look stunning. I’m not gonna ask, but whoever you’re wearing that for is going to fall in love with you. I might fall in love with you.”

You laugh at her, watching as she tugs the collar of her sweater up to cover the very prominent purple hickey on her pulse point. If only she knew how ridiculous that statement really was. Joel Miller, your dom, falling in love with you. It’s impossible. 

The big box that you stuffed the small, pink and bedazzled box in snickers in your mind then taunts you in her uppity British accent. He loves you, remember how he held your hand so tenderly through that last orgasm? “It’s a date”, “It’s only you”. 

You shake your head and run your hands down your torso and hips, the silk feeling like water under your hands. 

“Wow, that dress was made for you.” The peppy store clerk says as she rounds the corner to the dressing room. “Oh! I have just the accessory, if you don’t mind me showing you?”

You nod and then look over at Laren through the mirror. The two of you haven’t been friends for that long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s not wearing her massive engagement ring, plus that giant love bite; something is off. “I’m not gonna ask about the hickey, but are you ok?”

“Ya - I’m fine, why?” Her phone goes off in her purse for what feels like the hundredth time since you picked her up. She hasn’t looked at it once and this newest alert doesn’t change that.  

“No reason. I’m here for you though. I hope you know that.” The corners of her mouth lift, but that vivacious sparkle in her eye doesn’t make an appearance. 

You spend longer than you ever had getting ready on Friday. You’ve shaved, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of your skin. You painted your fingers and toes with a fresh coat of pearly white polish, noticing that the skin around your cuticles on your hands isn’t picked clean. For the first time in your life, your anxiety hasn’t needed its usual outlet; picking and pushing at your nails until they’re clean. Even with the last few days kicking your ass, Mister Miller made it better, made you better.

After about three hours, you’ve completed the look: big loose curls, one side pinned behind one ear with a gold clip, exposing the soft slope of your neck that Joel loves to press his lips to. You’ve opted for a neutral glam look; a light smokey grey eye, flirty lashes, a touch of blush and highlighter and a nude lip. 

You keep the jewelry simple, just thin gold hoop earrings and two dainty golden chains, the accessories that the sales girl picked out. The first chain is the longest; one end loops tight to your throat then lays down your sternum, a small clip on the other end holds it in place to the lacy black thong you bought for the occasion. The second chain wraps around your exposed thigh. A few small crystals dangle off the garter. It feels perfect for a sex club, almost like you’re being tied up in gold. 

After wrapping the gift you bought for Joel today you debate taping the dress in place. It’s a sex club, surely a nip slip isn’t the worst thing that can happen. However, Joel would probably forcefully remove anyone who got a peek. As tempting as it is to witness that, you decide to save his sanity for one more day and after placing the last piece of tape you hear the rev of his engine coming down your street. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, it’s been weeks since you’ve heard that sound. That deep rumble will probably always fill you with an excited anticipation of seeing Mister Miller. 

You agreed to let him pick you up tonight since Odette is out. You slip your perfectly pedicured toes into black heeled sandals, working the small golden buckle around the ankle quickly as Joel’s shiny black Jag parks in front of your building. You watch from the window as he gets out of the driver's side door, flowers wrapped in brown paper clutched in his hand. A man that size doesn’t look like he’d fit in that sleek sports car. 

Even from your birdseye view from the fourth floor he looks absolutely gorgeous. You’re sure once he’s right in front of you he’ll be devastatingly handsome, especially once he’s added the gift you got him. Similar to you, he’s in all black tonight. 

The beep of his car locking and the buzz of your door go at the same time and you excitedly hit the button to let him up. It feels like hours before there’s a light knock on your front door. After a shaky breath, you open the door.

Fuuuuuck me, you think as you take him in and actively stop yourself from drooling.

He looks as hot as sin dressed in all black, the lapels of the jacket and the tie slightly silky against the flat black of the rest of his clothing. He’s the living, breathing epitome of JMKink right now. Dressed like that matte black letterhead he still leaves you notes on when you clean for him. You lick your lips as your eyes trail back up his tie. Fuck, you want him to wrap it around your wrists. 

He steps into your front entrance and the apartment feels so much smaller; almost like he takes up every bit of space and simultaneously sucks all the air out of you. His hair is parted to the side, trimmed neatly around his ears, curls perfectly placed. You’re sure it was effortless on his part, just running his fingers through it after getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips. Your mouth waters as you continue to just stare at one another. 

Joel

“Wow,” he finally manages to rasp. His throat feels like it's full of sand all of a sudden. He clears it gently before continuing. “You look…you’re always beautiful, but you are…”

His eyes travel up and down your body again, he’s feeling lost for words which is not something that happens to him often. He watches your bottom lip slip between your teeth, waiting for him to form a thought.

“Sorry, sweet girl, I need a second here.” He places the bouquet of wildflowers on the small table at the entry then reaches out towards you. He actually feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you soon. The whorls and calluses of his fingers drag down the warm, soft skin of your arm gently before he closes his hand around yours. Usually, he loves how small your hand looks in his, but he’s finding it impossibly hard to break eye contact with you right now. As he steps in closely you smile sweetly at him and he’s surrounded by the smell of mint, lavender and something distinctly you. “You look life-alteringly gorgeous. I’m not sure if that’s a word, but wow, Freckles.”

You place your free hand on his chest and he’s sure you can feel how hard his heart is pounding behind his chest. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear his heart at this point. He cups your face with his other hand and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the way you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him deepen the kiss. He swallows the quiet moan that you make just for him. You pull away too quickly for him, an excited smile across your face.

“I got you something!” You spin and he’s left breathless again by the low back of the dress and the way the silk skirt sways with your hips. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, following you into the living area of your small apartment. “I don’t want you spending your money on me, sweetheart.”

You spin again and his cock twitches as he catches just how high the slit of the skirt is, and the golden jewelry wrapped around your thigh. In your hands is a large, light brown box tied with a black ribbon. “Technically, I spent your money on you,” you say with a wink. “Open it.”

He steps in close, watching your face go from excited to downright giddy as he pulls at the ribbon. He slips the lid off the box and stares down at the exact same black Stetson that he sent with Tiffany. His heart stops beating as the memories, both good and bad, flood through him. This is the same hat he wore the night he met her, the night of their first date, the night he told her he loved her for the first time, the night he married her. Joel Miller doesn’t believe in signs from the universe, but this? This is something. 

No, he thinks as emotions start to clog his throat. This was Tiffany. 

He blinks away the tears that threaten to form behind his eyes and whispers your name. “Thank you, sweetheart. I - I used to have a hat just like this.”

When he looks back at you your brows are furrowed together, a genuine curiosity across your face. “Used to?”

He clears his throat again, “Yea, it’s complicated, but this - this means more to me than you could ever know.”

He slips his hands into the box, the felt of the brim spreads a warm comfort up his hands and forearms. He swallows hard as he realizes it’s the same comfort he feels when he has you in his arms. 

Oh my god…I think, no, I know. I love you.

It hits him so hard that he has to clutch the hat tighter in his hands to ground himself as he pulls it from the box. He knew he was falling, he knew the second he saw you. He can’t push it down anymore. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”

He turns the hat over in his hands, the black satin liner exactly like his old one. He looks up at you, no longer able to stop the smile or the tears that flood his lash line. Your lips part as your eyes dance around his. 

“No, baby, you didn’t. I’ve, well, I’ve been really missing this hat lately.”

“You gonna try it on, cowboy?” The sultry flirtiness of your voice feels sweet on his skin and after a shallow breath he brings the hat up to his head. As the satin slips over his hair a calm confidence washes over him. His eyes meet yours and your flirty smile turns shy as you blush under his gaze. He’s whole again. 

“So?”

“I’m gonna have to fight the women off, I think.” You say softly.

He laughs, moving the box from your hands back to the table and then cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll only be looking at one woman, my sweet girl.” His lips meet yours gently, your tongue swiping softly against his lip as your slant into the kiss. 

I love you.

You

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel giving him the hat, but his eyes welling up and his breathing getting all shaky was not what you expected. Something about that hat called to you when you saw it. When you picked it up, the soft felt against your palms reminded you of how it feels to be in Joel’s hands. 

He breaks the kiss with a sigh and glances around your apartment. Months ago you would have felt shy or self conscious about Joel in your space, so wholly different from his, but he has never judged you for anything, and you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with him which is not a feeling you’re used to. His eyes fall to the scratched wooden coffee table that you got for free from Craigslist.

“You have college letters,” he says proudly, looking back at you.

Your arms cross across your body subconsciously, like they’re trying to shield you from the possibility of being rejected again. “Ya, the last two came today. I’ll open them later.”

“Baby, let's open them! It could be good news.”

He looks so goddamn handsome, in a suit that probably costs more than the entire contents of your apartment and his new black Stetson hat. His expression is encouraging, that same look from his kitchen when you ate some toast; prideful and empathetic. 

“I’m scared,” you almost blurt, wishing you could be smoother with this man. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. If these are both no’s, I don’t know how great of company I’ll be tonight.”

“Freckles, I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. But I think you’ll be thinking of the letters either way.”

“Ah, my consent stands even for mail,” you joke.

“Well, it's a federal offense to open someone else's mail so…” Joel winks and flashes a devastating smile your way. 

“Ok,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s right, you’ll be wondering all night what those letters say, and Joel has a way of making you forget, making you feel understood, important and cared for. “Do it.”

As if he’s a child on Christmas morning and you just gave him the ok, he snatches up the University of Austin and Berkeley letters, almost vibrating as he says, “Which one first?”

You start to pace the few steps of your living room, wringing your hands together as your heels click on the cheap laminate hardwood. “Austin, I’ll be less upset by a no from them.”

The tear of the envelope sounds like a dagger to the ribs as you go to grab the flowers Joel brought for you, desperate for something to do besides stand there. 

“It’s a thick envelope..” Joel says as he slides the letter out.

“Ya, I’ve learned that that doesn’t mean shit,” You say sardonically.

Joel laughs in surprise, “Always shocks me to hear that pretty little mouth swear.”

“Yea?” You ask, “Open the fucking letter, you’re killing me.”

Joel snorts as his strong fingers gingerly fold open the letter. His eyes shoot to yours, “You got in!”

“W-What?” You drop the flowers on the counter top and cover your mouth.

“Sweet girl, you got in. I’m - I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You stand frozen on the spot. It’s not the school you wanted, you want Berkeley, but it doesn’t matter what that letter says now, because either way, you’re going to be a lawyer.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as Joel's arms pull you in for a tight hug.

“Congratulations, baby girl.” His lips press to hair and you start to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

You both part from the hug as you fight to stop tears of pure joy from ruining your makeup. “It’s just…you know, for a second there I actually thought that I wasn’t smart enough. Me? I have a 4.0, I graduated early, I’ve been top of my class for years and I actually thought that I wouldn’t get in.”

Joel's eyes dance, a big smile across his face as he watches you fill a vase. “Open the other one.”

He keeps his eyes on you as he opens the next letter. As he folds open the thick eggshell coloured paper you plunge the flowers into the cold water, his face drops and you prepare yourself for the worst, “You got in. Baby, you - you got in.”

You - Four Years Prior

“So what? You think that getting into your fancy university in Texas means you can just leave Arizona whenever you please? Your mom needs you, you can’t just leave.” Your dad is in his patchwork recliner, a beer in his hand despite it being nine in the morning. The hot June morning heating the small house to an uncomfortable stifle. 

“I’ve contributed as much as I can, dad. Two months from now I’m not going to have any time to myself. I deserve some time doing what I want.”

Your dad snorts, legs slamming the leg rest down on the recliner. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?”

That should sting, it would to anyone else, but you’ve been called every name possible by your father. You see him now for what he truly is, a loser. He can’t hold a job, hasn’t been able to for years. When you were younger, you thought you were the apple of his eye. He’d show up to every school function, every award ceremony, all the little things. You were eight when you realized he didn’t even speak to you at those functions, just walked around bragging about how he was the reason you’ve achieved whatever you were being celebrated over. It was his time to shine, his award, not yours.

“I’m going,” you say, hoisting your duffle bag of clothing over your shoulder. You’ve always wanted to go back to California. You went once with your mother when you were nine or ten, and the minute you got to the beach and felt the warm sand between your toes everything went quiet. It’s called out to you ever since.

As you spin towards the front door you hear the groan of your dad standing up. Fear spikes in your veins, your heart slamming in your ribs. He’s never hit you, but with the redness of his face as he called you names this morning you wouldn’t put it past him. 

“Like fuck you are!” He bellows as a hard object strikes the back of your head, followed by warm liquid soaking through the back of your t-shirt.

One of your hands cups the back of your head as you bolt towards your recently purchased, and slightly rusted, SUV. “Get back in here right now you little cunt! You stole money from me for that vehicle, didn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh as you get in the front seat. You don’t bother locking the doors, you know he’s barely out the front door without looking. He’s not strong enough, and definitely too drunk, to overpower you. You throw the vehicle into reverse and yell out the window, “You don’t have any money for me to steal, Doug!”

You hit his first name hard, knowing damn well how much it will enrage him. You drive away without looking back, and you only stop once for gas for the next ten hours. 

The sun is setting as you reach the motel in Newport Beach. You head straight for the beach, kicking off your sandals and letting your feet sink into the cool sand. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, “Mom” across the screen in bold letters.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, still feeling like a child even though you aren’t.

“Get our ass home, right fucking now. You’re supposed to be contributing to this family and somehow you had enough money to buy a car? And a trip to California? Mark my words, young lady. If you don’t walk back through that door by this time tomorrow, I will come there and get you myself!”

A lump forms in your throat. You’ve spent your whole childhood trying to get them to see you. Contributing? None of your friends had to contribute, they all got to be kids. You’re going to be making a lot of money as a lawyer one day, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they’re getting a single penny of that money.

“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, mother.”

“You’re in for a rude fucking awakening, little girl. Just because you were the smartest person here, does not mean you’ll be the smartest person anywhere else. The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, and your father and I will not be here to fix you.”

“I don’t see how that’s any different than now. Good bye.”

You hang up before she can respond and look out over the water. The sun is setting in a kaleidoscope of peaches, marigolds and lavenders. You block your parents' numbers before snapping a picture of the sunset and setting it as your background. A sense of calm washes over you as the waves crash along the shore. You walk towards the water and dip your feet in, the water washing away the last eighteen years of your life. You’re free.

You - Present Day

A whispered ‘holy shit’ is all you can muster as realization washes over you. Your dream school - and you got in. You can go to the beach and listen to the ocean, feel the sand under your feet. You can feel as free as you did almost four years ago. You lock eyes with Joel. Can you really leave him? 

“I can’t believe I got in. To two schools. I’m going to be a lawyer.” Excitement floods your body. You can worry about deciding later, even though deep down you already know what you're going to choose. Right now, you can just be happy and proud. He reaches a hand out to you and you step into the living room to take it. He pulls you in, wrapping you in his strong arms. 

“I know I said this already, but I am so god damn proud of you, sweet girl. No one deserves this more than you. I want to celebrate this with you soon, please?”

“Well,” you say with a hint of mischief, pulling back to look at him, “We are going to be at the club.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve never seen before. “Ya - the club.”

“Oh my god. We’re late, Joel!” You push out of his hold. This is his big night, his five year anniversary of owning his club.

“Baby, stop,” he pulls you into his arms again and cups your face. “I don’t care. Just let me kiss you until you need to reapply that lipstick, and then we can go.” His lips crash passionately into yours. “I’m so fucking proud of you, sweet girl,” he gasps between kisses.

Joel wasn’t lying. He really did kiss you until your lips were swollen and you had to touch up not only your lipstick but the bit of highlighter on your nose; he also needed to participate, taking one of your makeup wipes to his nose, chin and lips before opening the door to his Jag for you and speeding off to the club.

Upon entering the club, the two of you were separated almost immediately. Joel was whisked away to the stage where he, Tommy and who you assume is Tess are now. The stage is lit up as he gives a speech and thanks everyone. A glass of champagne is handed to you as you stand along the edge of the bar. Everyone claps and as he tries to make his way back to you is pulled into a handshake from a very wealthy looking older man. You smile into your glass of expensive pink champagne as the woman from the stage approaches you.

“Hi! I’m sorry for having to steal him the moment you two walked in.” She extends a perfectly manicured hand out to you. “I’m Tess.”

You go to introduce yourself and she cuts you off as she continues. “Oh, I know who you are. Joel will probably kill me, but we have all been very interested to meet you.”

“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.

She shrugs. “No one has ever seen him this, hmm, this relaxed before. He’s usually here or across the street barking orders. You don’t become as successful as him without a little stress, but since you came along he seems different. Happy.”

You blush, watching him engrossed in a new conversation, his eyes often meeting yours across the room. “Look,” Tess says, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I hang around the Millers way too often and I could really use some girl talk. Is that ok?”

“Tess, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s girl talk.” You smile at her and then turn to the bartender. “Two tequila shots, please!”

She takes a breath, looking at Joel and then back at you. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where Joel wore a black cowboy hat again.”

You raise an eyebrow at Tess, this could be your chance to get an explanation around his response. You know you weren’t imagining his eyes getting glassy, and he did say it means more to him than he could ever tell you. “I got him that hat.” 

Tess’s jaw drops and panic rises in your chest. “What? Why? What’s wrong with the hat?” 

“Tequila first,” she says as the shots slide across the shiny black marble bar top. A shiver racks through Tess after she swallows, you don’t flinch. “I don’t know if it’s my place…”

“It’s girl talk, he’ll never know.” You state, sucking at the lime. Tess clears her throat and motions to the bartender for another round. The next time she speaks it’s a hushed, sad voice, just barely above a whisper.  

“He, umm - well, he had a hat just like that growing up. Wore it all the time actually. He had it on the night he met Tiffany, and pretty much every important day in his life since then. Their first date, their wedding. Shit, I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Sarah as a newborn in that hat. He also wore it the last time he held her.” Her voice trails off and heartbreak for her friend lines her features. “He…she loved it so much that he sent it with her.” 

You swallow hard and glance past Tess’s shoulder to Joel across the club. The moments of time between each of your heartbeats are filled by memories of his reaction. Tess continues, “Look, maybe you're like Joel. Maybe you don’t believe in astronomy or signs from the universe, but I don’t think you finding that hat was a coincidence.”

You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him. 

All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right? 

“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.

“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier. 

She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.

“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”

“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.

You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.

“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”

Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”

The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you. 

“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”

You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”

She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.

When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”

“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings. 

Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”

His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now? 

Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?

Joel

I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music. 

Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers. 

I love you. 

Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder. 

I fucking love you.

You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him. 

“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.

He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”

“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.

“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.

“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”

“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”

You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”

One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song. 

A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart. 

You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”

At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.

“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.

The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”

“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”

Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.  

“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”

You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”

“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?” 

“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”

You

“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.

Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”

That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.

The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.” 

Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”

He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore. 

You’re falling in love with Joel Miller. 

“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.

Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over. 

The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it. 

Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”

“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”

He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.” 

The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage. 

“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.  

“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.

“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”

You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”

The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage. 

“He’s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar. 

“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.

You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.

His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?” 

God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”

You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”

Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage. 

He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with. 

Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.

He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”

His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar. 

If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself

His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.

Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords. 

Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore

You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place. 

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel. 

Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?

The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.

All the complexities and games  No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on

You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see  Our future days  Days of you and me

And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.

When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us

This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.

And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest

You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’

All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.

‘Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.

So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay

‘I’m here for you’.

No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone

You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing. 

You and me It’s just, you and me

You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”

Joel

The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.

He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women. 

You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?” 

He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.” 

He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.

No, I just love her.

He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you. 

His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”

You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints. 

As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”

He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.

The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”

It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit. 

A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once. 

“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”

You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.

A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”

You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.

“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”

He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”

Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane. 

His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him. 

He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.

You

The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”

What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him. 

“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’

His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties. 

The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you. 

“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible. 

He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.

He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”

His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”

The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him. 

“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.

He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you. 

The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady. 

“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.

“Take me to the club.”

“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours. 

“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”

“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”

Joel

This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are. 

“I can take you home if you want.”

“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.

Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”

He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.

He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.

“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.

“What do you need?”

You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”

I love you. 

He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.

“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.

You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”

He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?” 

You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”

“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.

“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office. 

“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused. 

“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.

When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful. 

I love you. 

You

Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side. 

“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.

“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull. 

“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.” 

“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.” 

He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright. 

If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego. 

Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet. 

You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”

You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?” 

You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.” 

You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.

“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn’t you sweet girl?” 

You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.” 

“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.” 

He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him. 

He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours. 

“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy. 

Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants. 

As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric. 

“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!” 

He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.” 

The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.” 

For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently. 

“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.” 

You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.

“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back. 

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”

You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.

He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.

“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

 The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”

You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him. 

“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says,  “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”

“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.

“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”

This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you. 

“Is this ok?” He whispers.

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips. 

“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”

Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.

His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”. 

You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now. 

“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does. 

His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.

“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”

“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.” 

“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.

Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers. 

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.

Joel

He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach. 

“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece. 

More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.

Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”

He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen. 

He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”

He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel. 

I love you.

Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”

“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat. 

He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”

“Again,” he growls.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.

He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you. 

  He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.

Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.” 

He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling. 

“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip. 

“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you. 

The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.

There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way. 

Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl. 

“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips. 

His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”

Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”

He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk. 

“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.

“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…” 

His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating. 

“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.

“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved. 

The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you. 

He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.” 

“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.” 

“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask. 

“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.” 

“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”

“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”

The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now. 

“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”

Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”

Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep. 

His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”

Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”

Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”

“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed. 

He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”

You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”

“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”

“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his. 

There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”

Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany. 

“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”

“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”

[eddiethehunted]

hey y'all here's yet another "i'll probably never finish this" snippet — this one's considerably longer (near 3k words!) so maybe it's okay <3

post-vecna, fwb, idiot4idiot, you know how it is. trans eddie but it’s not really relevant to this piece lol

18+ for sexual themes and also one usage of the f slur

——————————

Eddie knows he's acting weird—or, weirder than usual—but he can't muster up the energy to care.

He's not really talking, sitting off to the side and kind of just listening in. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with anyone, or whatever—it’s that he doesn’t think he can handle hanging out with Steve.

He's successfully avoided Steve all night and he plans on keeping it that way. That is, of course, until Robin, tipsy and warm and happy from the beers she's been crushing all night, gets up and pulls Steve over to the swing chair with them.

Eddie considers fleeing while she’s not sitting on his knee forcing him to stay there, but he’s not quick enough. She flops back down and brings Steve with her, giggling as he stumbles and bitches and complains about it, making the chair swing back and forth and jostle them all together in a way that would normally have Eddie laughing with her.

Instead, all he can do is stare beyond Nancy’s head, rolling his beer between his hands distractedly and wishing the alcohol would hit him even half as hard as it’s hitting Robin. Maybe then he wouldn’t want to fucking bash his head into the wall right now.

He can see Nancy giving him a weird, curious stare, and look, he likes Nancy, really. She’s cool and badass and he’s kind of scared of her, which is awesome. But he’s not about to talk to Steve’s ex about this fucked up friends-with-benefits to maybe-not-even-friends-anymore-and-definitely-without-benefits trainwreck he’s gotten himself into.

Robin sandwiches herself in between them, a sharp elbow digging uncomfortably into Eddie's ribs. Eddie is being absolutely assaulted by Steve's cologne and presence and warmth and he's not okay. His heart feels like it's going to explode and he wants to leave so fucking bad.

Robin starts rambling about graduation and college to Nancy. Eddie tunes out quick, because Steve's arm is flung over the back of the chair and he's rubbing these distracting little circles on Eddie's shoulder, through his shirt. He can feel Steve's eyes burning holes into the side of his face, over Robin's head.

Steve's touch is distracting normally, but even more so now because it's been almost three weeks since Eddie has seen him, and even longer since he's touched him. The last time they were this close, he'd had Steve climbing into his lap, panting and grinding on him and kissing him like he was trying to steal the air out of his lungs. Whispering Eddie’s name like a prayer between breathy little whines as if it fucking meant something.

The painful throbbing in his chest is nearly as bad as the uncomfortable ache between his legs, and he almost forgets that he's trying to distance himself when he feels Steve shift closer. Robin's leaning forward to talk to Nancy, and that leaves plenty of room behind her for Steve's hand to move, to curl into the hair at the nape of Eddie's neck. Plenty of room for Steve to lean into his space and god, Eddie is having a really hard time keeping a grip on his self-control because all he wants to do right now is pull Steve into the bathroom and fucking get on his knees and make it so that he's the only one Steve will ever want.

“Been a while,” Steve says conversationally. Casually. Eddie wants to fucking kick him.

“Uh-huh,” he replies, not willing to give Steve more than that. It earns him a huff, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to see that Steve’s rolling his eyes at him.

His voice is quiet and trickles down Eddie's spine when he says, "You've been avoiding me."

Eddie can't think of a good response, his voice sticking in his throat, his brain full of static. He finally swallows and vaguely says, "You think so?"

Steve's hand squeezes the back of his neck and every single nerve in Eddie's body lights up. Robin is right there. Like, she's half-sitting on Eddie's thigh. This is—its a really bad fucking time for Steve to be touching him.

"Why?" Steve asks him. He sounds hurt, but also a bit angry, and that shouldn't turn Eddie on but it really, really does.

He likes that Steve's hurting. No, really, he does. Because at least it's not just him. (He's never claimed to be a nice fucking person, okay? He knows he's a bit of a selfish asshole, and he's fine with that.)

He's not having this conversation while Robin is sitting on top of both of them, so he jerks away from Steve and gets up, not paying any attention to Robin's indignant shout as he storms into her house. He's been here enough times that he knows the way to the bathroom even with all the lights off, but he doesn't have the chance to shut the door before there's a foot blocking it.

Steve pushes in, looking pissed, and so, so hot. Eddie's knees feel like jelly and his stomach squirms like he's going to be sick. Emotional confrontation is like, the actual fucking worst, and there's Steve, angry and hurt and crowding him against the counter in Robin's bathroom, looking him dead in the eyes.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

His hands are on either side of Eddie's hips and their faces are so close Eddie could count his eyelashes if he tried hard enough. His cheeks are burning, his voice stuck in his throat, and he's annoyed because Steve knows that being pinned like this gets Eddie hot, and that's not fucking fair.

"I'm not," Eddie lies through his teeth. "I've just been busy—"

Steve snorts, cutting him off with a mean laugh. "Yeah, real busy, I bet. Must be hard work pretending I don't fucking exist."

Eddie is like, five seconds away from either punching Steve or kissing him. He hates that this is doing something for him right now, hates how hot Steve is when he's mad.

"Get off of me," he snaps, but it doesn't sound convincing. Steve's gaze drops to his mouth, just for a second, before it flicks back up.

"Did I do something?" he asks desperately, looks at Eddie with those big, dark eyes. Eddie presses his lips together firmly, biting the insides of them, because if Steve keeps looking at him like that Eddie's gonna let him bend him over this goddamn countertop. Steve seems to take his silence as confirmation, and makes a quiet, sad sound.

"You can tell me, Eddie," he says, a bit softer, like some of the anger has evaporated out of him. "I miss you."

That hurts.

Eddie wants to throw up. "Don't say that to me."

Steve frowns. "Why not? What, I can't miss you? Can't wonder what the fuck I did to piss you off so bad that you won't even look at me?" He backs off, a bit, enough for Eddie to breathe, crossing his arms tight across his chest. "One day you're shoving my dick down your throat and the next you're acting like you hate me. Kinda makes a guy wonder what happened."

"I don't—hate you," Eddie manages, nearly choking on his words because he doesn't want to say them, but the sad, hurt eyes Steve's giving him pull them from out of his chest. "I'm not even—I'm not even fucking mad at you, Steve. I'm not—this is so stupid." He rubs a hand over his face. “I just… I can't keep doing this shit. This—whatever it is.” He gestures vaguely between them. “Hooking up. Whatever."

Steve's shoulders slump forward. He moves back, until they're not touching at all and there's a few feet between them. He sounds exasperated and frustrated when he says, "Okay, so don't! You could've just told me you didn't want to fuck around anymore. I’m not gonna be mad or something. Jesus, Eddie, you can like, talk to me. I give a shit about being friends more than, like, getting some ass or whatever.”

Steve's not getting it, which is maybe for the best, but the distance between them makes Eddie want to pull his hair out. "No, I mean—" He can't help but reach out, tugging Steve a little closer by the loop of his jeans, which makes him flush so pretty. “I don't wanna stop."

"So...don't?" Steve says slowly, warily. One warm hand wraps around Eddie's arm, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed. "We can keep... I dunno, doing whatever. Whatever you want. Even just… hanging out. Or watching a movie, or—uh, yeah, whatever.” He swallows, glances down at Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie’s sure he knows just what Steve’s thinking about.

He can't help but laugh, because he's sure that what he really wants is not within the realm of what Steve is okay with. Sex is fun, but—god, Eddie wants to be allowed to love him. He’s already opened himself up more to Steve than anyone else. Steve already knows things about him that nobody else does, except his uncle. It’d been so easy to fall in love with him.

"That's the thing. I don't think we're on the same page."

Steve looks so confused that it would be funny if Eddie wasn’t on the verge of spilling his guts, of throwing up his heart all over Steve right now.

“I need you to elaborate, man,” Steve says. “‘Cause you’re giving some crazy mixed signals right now.”

“I don’t want to just keep hooking up with you. I know this all started just as fun and it is fun, but it’s driving me crazy,” Eddie lets out a frantic little laugh, feels like he’s going to start hyperventilating, but he’s started now and can’t stop, “I’m so into you it’s insane, Steve. Like, I like you. So fucking much. So much it makes me want to rip my hair out or something. I can’t keep doing this knowing it doesn’t mean the same thing to you and I can’t keep pretending that the thought of you with someone else doesn’t make me want to die. Okay? I can’t. It—it hurts and it fucking sucks and I can't do it anymore.”

His voice is shaking by the end of it, and he knows by the burning feeling in his eyes and nose that he’s about to start crying. Because this is it—this is what he’s been dreading, all this time: the moment that the other shoe drops, the moment that Steve rejects him. He’s a nice guy, he’ll do it kindly, let Eddie down gently, but that’ll hurt more. Eddie needs Steve to like, punch him in the face and call him a fag, or something. He can’t handle a sweet, gentle, let’s stay friends forever, it’ll all be okay rejection.

Instead of the bright snap of pain he’s hoping for, he feels Steve’s hands slide up the sides of his neck, almost like he does when Eddie’s down on his knees for him. It’s much softer, now, Steve’s thumbs stroking just under his eyes to wipe away the tears that he can’t stop from falling.

It’s too much. 

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut tight, shaking his head in frantic, jerky movements as his tears just keep coming. He wants to yell at Steve, to tell him to leave and let him lick his wounds in fucking peace, but he can’t make the words come out. All he can do is suck in another sticky, wet breath.

It tears out of his chest as a sob and Steve swears under his breath.

“Hey,” he breathes. He moves Eddie’s hair out of his face gently, tucking it behind his ears. Any traces of anger are gone from his voice now, and it’s soft, quiet, like he's talking to a frightened animal. “Eddie, hey. Shit, I’m sorry. Can you look at me?” 

Eddie doesn’t want to, but he’s never been good at saying no to Steve. He forces his eyes open, blinking away the tears that blur Steve’s pretty face. 

“If you’re gonna reject me just do it,” he says miserably. His voice feels thick as it comes up his throat. “I can take it, man.” 

Actually, he’s pretty sure he’ll collapse to the ground sobbing and maybe even dry heave or throw up the second he’s alone, but Steve doesn’t have to know that. 

“I’m not—”  Steve huffs out a breath, something like a laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Eddie, I’m not rejecting you. I’m—I’m just kind of in shock.” 

Eddie stares at Steve with watery eyes. “In shock?” he bites out. “Yeah, dude, that kinda happens when your friend confesses he has big disgusting gay feelings for you.” 

“No! Not like—not in a bad way,” Steve clarifies. He has the most adorable pink flush on his cheeks, a frustrated little crease between his brows as he tries to find the words for what he’s so clearly hurting to say. “I’ve been into you for months. I honestly thought you were avoiding me these past few weeks ‘cause you could tell. I’m not, like,” he heaves a sigh, runs a nervous hand through his hair, “good at being subtle, man. I thought you were rejecting me.”

Eddie has no clue what kind of face he’s making right now, but he feels a little bit like he’s floating suddenly. Like he’s just missed the last step at the bottom of a staircase, a heavy, stony pang in his chest, his breath kind of stuck somewhere around his diaphragm. It’s almost like how it felt to flip upside down, weightless, as he climbed through the gate last spring, but only slightly less terrifying.

“I haven’t been with anyone else since the first time we hooked up,” Steve admits, and Eddie's mouth falls open, because that was nearly a year ago. “I know we were supposed to be casual, but it… was never casual for me.” His face is a little redder now, but he doesn't break eye contact. It makes Eddie want to squirm. “I shouldn’t have lied and said I didn’t want more. I wanted you. When we—”  He swallows and Eddie can't help but glance down to watch the way his throat bobs, wants to sink his teeth into it. "When we’re together, you know, it’s… it’s all I ever think about. Fuck, I think about you all the time. I feel like I'm going insane.” He groans, letting his forehead fall forward onto Eddie’s shoulder. “I feel like I’m not doing a great job here.”

Steve thinks about him. Steve fucking wants him. Eddie is literally going to pass out or something.

“No,” he breathes, because this can’t be real, he has to be hallucinating or something, “no, you’re—this is really good. Keep going.”  

Steve sighs like he’s frustrated with himself, his breath warm against Eddie’s shirt. “What I’m trying to say is that I like you too, Eddie. A lot. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t, I’m just—kind of not great at this shit.”

Eddie really, really wants to pinch himself, but he can’t fucking move as Steve’s words sink into his bones. 

“You like me,” he croaks out. His hands curl into fists in the front of Steve’s shirt. He probably looks a fucking mess right now with tears and maybe snot all over his face but he can’t think about that, not when Steve is so close. “You actually like me? Like, not—not just fucking me?”  

“I mean, I do like doing that,” Steve says, lifting his head with a ridiculous grin and eyebrow waggle that makes Eddie feel hot all over. He groans and shoves Steve’s face away half-heartedly, and Steve laughs, turns his head to press a kiss to Eddie’s palm.

Eddie just about melts into a puddle on the floor. God, the Steve Harrington charm. Steve’s smile turns a little soft.

“But yeah,” he says, leaning into Eddie’s hand. “I’m kinda crazy about you, man.”

Eddie needs to make sure he's not insane. "Like, you wanna cuddle me and shit? Fuckin’… bake me a cake?”

Oh god, what do people in relationships even do? Is that even what Steve’s gunning for here?

Steve's clearly trying not to laugh. "I mean, I can make you a cake if you want, but I'm not that great at baking. I always put too much flour and it turns out so bad, and this one time I accidentally put salt instead of sugar and Robin still doesn't shut up about it. I can make a pretty solid lasagna, though, if you want—”

"Oh my god," Eddie says, because he's definitely insane, and also because the idea of Steve in the kitchen making him a lasagna like some kind of little housewife is going to make him act fucking stupid, "shut up."

He really does pinch himself, then, and all it does is hurt. Steve’s lips quirk up again, and he steps a little closer, until it would be so easy for Eddie to tilt his head a bit and move in for a kiss. He goes a little cross-eyed trying to keep looking at Steve, trying to make sure this is still real, that this isn’t some Vecna shit and Steve’s about to turn into some kind of fucked up monster and start, like, eating him or something. 

“Did you just pinch yourself?” Steve asks, grinning so wide Eddie can almost taste it.

“No,” Eddie lies.

“That’s so cute."

Eddie makes a weird, strangled sound, and it’s the most humiliating little noise, one he didn’t even know he was capable of making. He doesn’t have a chance to be embarrassed about it, though, because Steve moves so their lips are just barely apart. 

“Can I kiss you now? I really want to.” Their noses touch. “I know it’s not the first time, but… I wanna kiss you.”

“Like in a gay way?” Eddie blurts, like an idiot.

Steve’s eyes crinkle up a bit when he laughs. “Yeah, dude. In a gay way. I mean, I kinda feel like me licking my jizz out of your mouth that one time was already pretty gay, but yeah. I wanna kiss you for real. If that’s okay.”

[princessofmarvel]

Runaway

summary | thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. thomas’s only condition? to marry the man's daughter. except she doesn’t want to marry him. 

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 1.98k

 genre | fluff with some angst?

requested? | yes! i had so much fun writing this! especially since i have never written anything like this before! thank you so much for requesting! please let me know if you like it!

warnings! | arranged marriage? darkish thomas? (not really, i’m just not great at writing dark characters sometimes, lol) not proof read yet!

author’s note! | hey everyone! this main character was written with poc in mind, i have tried my best, but since i am not a person of color please let me know if there is anything i can change to make it better! i hope you enjoy your request! please know that if you have requested something, i promise that i will get to it soon! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Thomas knew what was happening today, hell his whole family knew. His future bride was coming to birmingham. He struck up a good deal with her father about helping her fathers business about a week ago, then he saw a photo of the man's daughter. The only condition Thomas made? To marry his daughter. Once they agreed, the man said he needed a week to get his family there. By the time they got there, Thomas had already got everything set up to make damn sure the man would be successful in birmingham. Which included a few fights, but Thomas would do it all over again if it meant he could have her. 

They weren’t to meet until the wedding, something her father insisted on. So Thomas stood in a room of the church getting ready, when his brother John busted in. 

“They can’t find her Tommy” was all John said as he huffed as if he was out of breath.

Thomas’s mind began to race. What did he mean they couldn’t find her? Has something happened? Had one of his enemies found out about today and took her? 

“She was getting ready, and asked for a moment to herself, when her mother came back in to check on her, she was gone.” John added as he leaned on the closest chair. 

Thomas stood and took in his brother's words for a moment before he left the room. His future wife was out in Birmingham in her pretty white dress, with no protection and no one was doing anything about it. Her family may not know this city, but Thomas did. He knew what could happen to her if she stayed out there too long. This won’t be an issue when they’re married, and she has his last name. She could kill someone and get away with it then, but right now no one in Birmingham knows who she is. All they know is that she is a pretty girl in a white wedding dress, and the thought of what could happen to her made him sick.  

Thomas looked everywhere he could think his fiance would be. He couldn’t find her anywhere, the only place he hadn’t checked was the Garrison. 

He walked in to see his bride to be, standing behind the bar making herself what looked like her fourth drink. He walked in slowly, making sure not to scare her. 

“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked up to the bar. She looked up at him as she continued to make her drink. “I’m Thomas Shelby, your future-”

“I know who you are.” She said, cutting him off. 

“Well, we're supposed to be getting married right now.” He said matter of factly. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m not marrying you, thought you would have figured that out by now.” She said as she took a sip of her drink. 

Thomas looked at her, making sure to not show how shocked he was that she was speaking to him that way.

“And, why not?” He asked her, now intrigued. 

“I don’t want to, I don't know you.” She said as she finished her drink. 

Thomas moved to be behind the bar where she was. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the bar. 

“(Y/n)” He said as he towered over her. “Your father has already given me your hand.” 

“I know, I don’t care.” She said as she grabbed her drink back from Thomas.

Thomas just took a moment and stared at the girl as she took her drink back. It was the first time he truly got to look at her. He got to take in the color of her eyes, and the curl of her hair, she truly was beautiful.

“Why exactly are you so against marrying me?” He asked as he stared at her. 

“I want to be my own person, not defined by my father or my husband.” She said not missing a beat. 

“I think I can help with that.” Thomas said, starting to get closer to the girl. “I have a certain reputation, if you’re married to me, you’ll be untouchable.”

“That's still me being defined by my husband.” She said, cutting him off with a small eye roll. 

Thomas took the drink from her and set it back down, but this time, she didn’t turn away from him, she just stared up at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“As I was saying, you would be untouchable, and if you wanted a role in peaky blinder business, you wouldn’t just be “Thomas Shelby's wife”. You would be “(Y/n) Shelby, most feared woman in Birmingham”. You have an opportunity here, the choice is yours.” Thomas said, staring her in the eyes. Normally he would never offer this to someone he just met. But there was something about (Y/n), just the look in her eyes, the way she wasn’t scared of him, how she held herself, how she looked at him with the same amount of intensity he looked a her with, how she didn’t care she was defying the most feared man in birmingham. "Don't let your pride get in the way of a smart decision."

Thomas watches the girl stare at the wall for a moment, him taking in her side profile. Until she finally looked up at him.

"I won't be reduced to just your little wife?" She asked with a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"I'll let you take care of anyone who says you are" He said with a serious look on his face.

The girl gave him a small smile, it was obvious that no one had ever believed in her the way Thomas was right now, that they all thought of her as some weak little girl and nothing more.

"Fine, I'll marry you" She said as she looked up at him with a small smile. 

Thomas wrapped her arm in his and led her out of the Garrison. He held the bottom of her white dress up away from the dirt as he walked them back to the church. 

“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” She said to him with a small laugh. “It’s bad luck.” 

“I won’t let anything ruin this marriage, trust me.” He said as he opened the church door for her and let her walk in first. Thomas watched as her family whisked her away, knowing that this girl was truly something he had never expected her to be, and he loved it.

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 9)

summary: thoughts of jack still linger, but a familiar face (and the person who's helped you get over your breakup) come to visit you and hugh - your personal trainer. meanwhile, hugh continues filming and puts on the wolverine costume for the first time. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal abuse. smut (18+, mdni) - cowgirl, unprotected p in v, oral - m receiving, dirty talk, all while hugh is in his wolverine costume, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 4k a/n: i've missed these two's personal trainer, so she's coming back and i think she's gonna be the driving force behind the reader realizing how far she's come! hope y'all enjoy, things are gonna get better... i promise. in the meantime, i've been wanting to write some smut of hugh in his wolverine costume bc i mean... how can you not??? lol. as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

A week has passed since your run in with Jack. Hugh tries to act like nothing happened, act like what happened didn’t bother him, but he couldn’t help it. He was still fuming, still wanting so badly to just find Jack and finish what he started. He does notice a small shift in your behavior, but he has to wonder if you’re hiding the fact that you’re still on edge. There are still brief moments where you space out, like your mind has drifted to some other place and he has to gently take you out of it with a hand on your shoulder or a quiet call of your name. 

You snap out of it more quickly than before, but he can still see the panicked expression flickering in your eyes. 

Every night, you thank him and Hugh isn’t sure why. You thank him for being there for you, for being the safe space that you didn’t know you needed, for loving you the way you should be loved. 

And every night, Hugh watches you fall asleep and only when he sees the peaceful look on your sleeping face does he feel relaxed enough to go to sleep too. 

As the weekend approaches, Hugh has an idea to give both your personal trainer a call and invite her over for the week. He knows how important she is to you, how she has helped you overcome not only your breakup with Jack, but has helped you see just how amazing of a person you are. 

You’re in the bathroom when Hugh steps out on the patio of the hotel room to give her a call. She answers almost quickly and Hugh has to look over his shoulder to make sure that you haven’t come out yet. 

“Hugh, hey! How’s filming going?” she says enthusiastically. 

“It’s been going great,” Hugh answers, biting his lower lip. “How are things back home?” 

“Busy like always,” she laughs quietly. “I’ve been thinking about taking a vacation.”

“How about you come here?” 

“That’s not necessarily a vacation if I’m going there to work,” she chuckles. 

“I’ll pay for everything.”

“I mean, that’s only fair.”

Hugh laughs quietly then he lets out a quiet sigh. “Listen, Jack–”

“I know,” she interjects. “We’ve been talking this last week. Doesn’t sound like she’s doing that well.”

“I think she’s hiding the fact that she isn’t doing okay,” Hugh admits. “And I think if you’re here, she’d feel a lot better. You don’t even have to train either of us. Just– I think she needs someone more than me right now.”

“I’m there,” she responds immediately. “Tell me when, Hugh, and I’ll be there.” 

Hugh lets out a breath of relief. “Perfect. I’ll arrange everything for you and send you the details.”

After Hugh hangs up the phone, he walks back inside the hotel room and sees you come out of the bathroom in a white robe and a towel in your hands to run through your wet hair. He sees you look up at him, a small smile on your lips as he walks over to you. His hands drop to your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.

“So…” he begins.

You arch a brow, tossing the dampened towel onto the bed. You stare up at him, hands now moving to rest on his chest. “What?”

“I know what happened last week is still lingering,” Hugh continues and sees your mouth open to protest, but he shakes his head. “It’s lingering for me at least, baby.” 

“Hugh…”

“Just,” he sighs. “Hear me out. I’m flying in our trainer this week. I know that she’s been with you through everything, has helped you with this and I can’t…” Hugh bites his lower lip. “As much as I wish that I can help you, I just know that I can’t.”

“But you have…”

“But it’s not enough, love,” Hugh admits. “I know that. You know that.”

“I’m sorry…” you drift your eyes downwards, staring at your feet.

“Hey,” Hugh bites his lower lip and hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look back up at him. He can see the hurt in your eyes, the worry etched in your features. You’re thinking again and Hugh brushes his thumb gently across your jawline as he stares deeply into your eyes. “You don’t ever have to apologize for this, for him.”

“I just wish he still didn’t have so much control over me…” 

“I know, baby,” Hugh says softly. “He hurt you for a long time,” he tightens his jaw. “So the way you’re feeling… It’s completely valid.” 

“I love you,” you tell him. “I don’t think I deserve you–”

“Okay, we’re gonna stop saying that, yeah?” Hugh says with a small smile. “I feel like the luckiest man alive that you chose me, that I get to feel your love,” he admits. “So from now on, we’re going to stop saying that… because if anyone doesn’t deserve the other person, it’s me.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but he just leans in and presses his lips firmly against yours. You melt into him, hands moving from his chest to wrap around his neck. “Don’t think that kissing me is going to prevent me from saying otherwise,” you mumble against his lips.

Hugh smiles and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Fine,” he says, pulling away slowly. “How about we say that we do deserve each other?” 

You nod, playing with the hair at his nape. “Yeah, I like that a lot more.” You lean up on your toes and gently peck his lips, feeling him lift you even further until your legs wrap around his waist and he sits on the edge of the bed with you on his lap. 

“I love you, baby,” he says, moving a hand to the knot on your robe. “And I just want you happy.”

You bite your lower lip and look down at where his hand plays with the knot at your robe, feeling his length stir beneath his shorts. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admit. “And it’s because of you.”

Hugh grins and then undoes the knot on your robe, slowly pushing it off your shoulders as he watches the fabric fall from your body. He clears his throat, your entirely exposed frame now in full view for him as his gaze darkens with lust. 

“Think we can be quick about this?” he asks hopefully, feeling you slowly roll your hips against his. Hugh’s eyes gaze down between your legs, seeing your sex slicked with your arousal. 

“I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself, baby.” Hugh grunts quietly when he feels your hands tug at his shorts and he lifts himself slightly to lower it past his legs, letting it pool around his ankles. He’s already so hard at the sight of you, his tip already leaking with his precome and when he feels your hand wrap itself around his base, he lets out a loud groan.

“Shawn and Ryan can wait a little longer,” Hugh smirks, eyes fluttering when he feels you slowly lower yourself down onto him. 

—

True to Hugh’s word, your trainer arrives on set the following week. You practically run towards her in excitement (and immense relief) when you see her. Hugh’s at his trailer, leaning against the door when he sees the big smile on your face. It’s been a while since he’s seen your smile meet your eyes, pure happiness and relief written on your expression. 

You pull away from the hug and lead her to Hugh’s trailer, seeing the both of them hug as well before he lets the both of you inside. He’s not yet dressed for today’s shoot, but you can see the blue and yellow suit hanging in the corner. Today had been a day you were looking forward to because not only was your trainer going to be here, but Hugh was finally going to put on the comically-accurate Wolverine suit for the first time in over twenty years. 

“I was thinking we can all grab dinner tonight after shooting,” Hugh suggests, hand reaching out for you. You smile in his direction and take his hand, leaning against him. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a great plan,” your trainer says with a smile. 

“I usually leave earlier than Hugh, so after a few scenes, we can head back to the hotel and catch up,” you tell her.

“Perfect. I’ve already seen Hugh in his element, but to see you in yours? I’m excited.” 

“Oh, I’m nothing special–”

Both Hugh and your trainer look at you with an expression that tells you to stop the negative self-talk. You bite your lower lip and then shake your head, lifting your free hand in the air. 

“Okay, okay. I’m working on it.”

“Oh, after this week, it’s gonna be drilled into you,” your trainer chuckles. “Now come on, show me around set while Hugh gets ready.” 

You nod and then watch her leave the trailer before you turn to look up at Hugh, hand resting on his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Hugh smiles and pecks your lips. “I missed your smile,” he admits. 

You let out a quiet sigh and then look down at his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” Hugh corrects. “I just love seeing you happy, baby.” 

“You’re perfect,” you tell him with a contented sigh. “I’m thinking I don’t ever want to let you go.”

Hugh grins broadly. “Good because you’re stuck with me.” 

“Oh, you promise?” you tease.

Hugh nods, staring deeply into your eyes. “More than you know, love. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

—

You give a thorough tour of the set, but you can tell from the look on your trainer’s face that she’s waiting for you to bring up Jack, to bring up what exactly happened, and how he even came back into your life. 

You know you’ve come a long way from the first time you met her, but you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed in yourself… that all of the hard work that your trainer helped you with seems to have gone to waste at the first conversation with Jack. 

“He called me after he found out that Hugh and I were together,” you finally admit. “I’m assuming it had to do with Hugh posting a picture of us and then word got out and–” you sigh shakily. “Well, you can figure out the rest.” 

“What an asshole,” she mutters. “I’m sorry you still have to deal with him,” she says softly. 

“I just feel–” you sigh. “I feel like I’m the same woman I was when I was with him. A coward. Weak.” 

“That’s not a reflection of who you are as a person,” she replies. “You were never a coward and you were never weak.” 

“But–”

“Jack was abusive,” she says bluntly. “Verbally abusive… and he took advantage of you. And he’s still trying to do that, but there’s a big difference from the woman you were to the woman you are now.” 

“And what’s that? Because from where I’m standing, I feel like I’m back to square one.” 

She sighs. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” 

You shrug. “I just wish I never got Hugh involved.” 

“You didn’t do anything,” she corrects. “You deserve to be happy and Jack doesn’t like that. He doesn’t have a right to tell you who you are – he never did, do you understand me?” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you look at her. She had become the person to help you out of your negative thoughts and you knew that if not for her, you’d have been stuck in the same mindset that Jack made you to believe about yourself. 

“I really missed you,” you tell her, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug.

“Even my workouts?” 

“Ah, maybe not that,” you tease, pulling away from her with a small smile as you wipe your tears away. 

“Well, I’m sure we can squeeze one in this week,” she winks. 

“Thank you,” you say seriously. “For being here.”

“Thank Hugh,” she chuckles. “He just wants you to be happy.”

You smile to yourself. “When you texted me telling me about having someone join in our sessions all those months ago… Did you know that we would hit it off?”

She grins mischievously. “I knew you two would hit it off, but I certainly didn’t expect you both to get together so fast.”

“Oh my god, you set us up.”

She bursts into a fit of laughter. “Guilty as charged.”

You shake your head and begin laughing with her, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like you can finally breathe again after everything that’s happened with Jack. 

—

After a couple of hours, your trainer decides to leave for the day and get some rest at the hotel before dinner tonight. You opt to remain on set, not having had the chance to see Hugh yet. It’s lunch time for the entire cast and crew, so you walk towards his trailer and step inside, removing the camera from around your neck to set on the table. 

When you turn around to see him dressed in his full Wolverine suit, sitting on the couch with a bowl of salad, you widen your eyes and clear your throat at the sight of him. He has a big grin on his face and waves in your direction, but you can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. 

The suit is so fitting – sculpting to his entire body, but your eyes deviate to his arms, seeing his muscles flex from beneath the suit as he takes another forkful of spinach. 

“You’re–” you bite your lower lip. “You’re wearing the suit.”

“I am,” he chuckles and sets the bowl down onto the table nearby before he stands up. 

Your eyes widen even further at the sight of him standing in his suit in front of you. You know you’re obviously ogling him, eyes lingering in certain areas and Hugh’s enjoying it. He likes the way you look at him, especially right now. You look like a woman who knows what she wants and he can see the gaze in your eyes darkening. 

“You look–” you stutter. “You look good. Like really fucking good.” 

“Is this everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” he teases, his large hand coming to rest on your waist. “You know, with Wolverine being your favorite and all.” 

The contrast of him wearing this suit and his accent is doing things to you that you never thought it would. You can feel the wetness build between your legs, the throbbing and yearning to clamp around him. You can’t even respond, your eyes moving continuously up and down his frame. He looks so big, so strong, and–

“Hello?” Hugh interrupts your thoughts, chuckling quietly. “Do you like it?” 

“Like it?” you answer, hands moving to rest on his chest as you gently shove him back down on the couch. “I fucking love it.” 

Without hesitation, you drop to your knees in front of him as your hands move up his thighs and towards the waistband of his pants. You bite your lower lip, tilting your head as you try to figure out how to remove his pants and letting out a quiet huff of impatience when you can’t seem to find the zipper or button or anything to pull it down and reveal his hardening length. 

Even beneath the fabric of his suit, you can see the length of him, stirring and hardening as you run your palm over him. 

Hugh groans, head tilting to the side as he reaches down to cup your cheek. “Baby, I don’t–”

“Help me figure out how to take these pants off.”

“Baby,” he grunts, feeling your lips press against his manhood from over the fabric of his suit. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, his length straining beneath the fabric and he groans when he feels your lips find his covered tip. 

“Hugh,” you whimper impatiently. “I need you.”

Hugh nods and then stands up in front of you, looking down at you as you remain on your knees. He expertly undoes his pants, knowing that it’s going to be just as difficult to put back on, but at the sight of you so needy and ready for him, he knows it’ll be worth it. 

Hugh then drops his pants to pool around his ankles and he’s about to sit back down when he feels your hands wrap around his base and your mouth immediately wrap itself around his tip. He groans, eyes fluttering shut as he tangles one hand in your hair and remains standing before you. 

You feel a sudden sense of gratitude wash over you, wanting to show Hugh just how grateful you are of him. How patient and thoughtful he’s been these last few weeks. You lean in further, relaxing your throat as you feel the tip of his manhood kiss the back of your throat. The hair at his base tickles your nose and you feel tears sting your eyes as you look up at him, his face contorted into pleasure. You pull back enough, his length glistening with your saliva.

“Fuck,” he growls lowly, his grip in your hair tightening even further as you continue to bob your head rapidly. It’s almost obscene the way you’re sucking him off, like you’re a starved animal and this is your first meal. Hugh can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with each of your strokes, with each inch sliding further and further into your mouth that he has to pull back from your lips with a quiet pop!. 

Your lips are red and slightly swollen, saliva dripping just a bit at the corner of your lips. You’re staring up at him with a lustful look on your face and he’s about to say something, about to tell you that he’s getting close, but you interrupt him with a shove against his chest to make him sit back down on the couch. 

He clears his throat, watching you drop your pants and underwear to the floor. He reaches down to stroke himself, eyes taking in your exposed lower half. Hugh groans in anticipation when he watches you straddle his hips and align yourself to his tip. 

You waste no time (like you usually do) in sitting firmly on his erected length. You don’t take your time, you don’t slowly lower yourself. Instead, you lower yourself until he fills you to the hilt and Hugh tosses his head back at the sensation of your warm and wet walls clamping down on his already throbbing length. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Hugh groans, hands darting out to your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. 

“Call me bub,” you demand, hands moving to rest on his shoulders as you bounce along his length. “Please, Hugh…”

Hugh grunts, feeling every inch of your walls slide along him. He knows what you want, so he switches the flip inside of him and stares at you with a dark look on his face. He lets out a low growl – the way Logan would – and leans in to rest his forehead against yours, having long forgotten his normal Australian accent to replace with Logan’s.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, bub,” he groans. “Taking me so well.” 

Your eyes widen and your walls clench at the role that Hugh is now playing. When he sees the look on your face, he smirks and digs his fingertips even further into you, knowing that it’s going to leave bruises later. “Oh god…” you moan, biting your lower lip from trying to let everyone else on the lot hear what’s going on.

“Yeah?” he growls, moving a hand to your clit and beginning to rub it in circles. “Such a good girl. Look at you,” Hugh groans, feeling himself get closer and closer. “Oh bub,” he continues. “You’re close, ain’t ya? Can feel you tremble…”

“Hugh!” you exclaim, rolling your hips forward and backwards as your walls tighten even further around him. You reach your high far too quickly and feel him continue to rub circles against your clit, your body shaking as you try to reach down for his wrist to stop his movements. 

“That’s a good girl,” Hugh grins. He knows that he’s stronger than you, but he loves seeing you try. Loves to see your body become so overly sensitive that you begin to squirm away from him, unsure if you can reach another orgasm. 

“Hugh… Baby, I can’t–”

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning in to gently bite at your jawline as he thrusts his hips up roughly and rapidly. His balls slap against your backside, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls of his trailer as he feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build and build–

“Fuck!” he groans, moving both hands now to your hips as he paints your walls with his come. Hugh’s eyes fall shut tightly, slowly guiding you along his length as he shudders at your tight walls milking every last drop. 

Slowly, Hugh lifts you off his lap and you quickly scramble to sit next to him, not wanting any of his come to get on the suit. You lean back against the couch, legs still spread open as Hugh looks down at you and sees his release slowly trickle out of you. 

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” he says, his voice back to normal as he watches groans at the sight of his come now trickling between your legs. 

“That was hot,” you smile, breathing heavily. 

“You’re hot,” he grins, reaching for a tissue to first clean you up and then to clean himself. Once he’s softened enough, Hugh pulls up his pants and then grabs your panties and jeans to gently hand it to you. “I’m going to have to film for the rest of the day after that?”

You bite your lower lip and slide on your panties. You sit on your knees and lean in to gently peck his lips. “And then we also have dinner tonight.”

He groans and runs his hand along your bare thigh. “How am I going to pay attention after you attacked me like that?” 

You gasp and gently slap his chest, feeling him take your hand and kiss your knuckles. “I did not attack you!” 

“Oh, the minute you saw me in this suit, you were already undressing me with your eyes.”

“Not my fault you look so hot in it.”

“Should I take it back with me to the hotel?” he grins, eyes wiggling suggestively. 

“If you bring it back to the hotel with you, we’re never leaving.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes,” you giggle. “You still have a movie to shoot.”

Hugh sighs dramatically. “I suppose you have a point.” 

You let out a laugh and Hugh smiles in your direction. “I’ve missed your laugh too,” he says quietly. 

You look up at him and cup his cheek, eyes staring into his own. “I’m not gonna let that man control me anymore,” you admit. “It’s going to be tough, but I–”

“You’re stronger than you know, baby,” Hugh finishes for you. “And I’ll be right there to help you through it. As long as you’ll have me.” 

“Wear the suit and then maybe I’ll consider,” you tease. 

Hugh chuckles and gently pushes you onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Hugh.”

“Do you think you have one more in you?” he asks, eyes dark with lust once more as he moves a hand between your legs. 

“I don’t–” you gasp when you feel him move your panties to the side and slide a finger past your depths. He can feel his spend inside of you and it makes him growl. 

“Lunch is almost over, Hugh…” you whimper.

“I know. Let me have my dessert, baby.” Hugh grins and then lowers his head between your legs.

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

[fermithesilly]

STUFF FROM QWEL STREAM

Twisted Connie concept! Qwel said she’d most likely be Uncommon, and she would be able to switch from machine to machine. Honestly idk if this is confirmation that she’s being added, but the way Qwel was talking about her sounded like she wanted to put her in game so idk😭

RANDOM FACTS

-Astro’s full name is Astro Novalite

-Shelly’s full name is Shelly Fossilian(this was confirmed a bit ago but I don’t think a lot of people know about it yet)

-Only the mains have last names. Also this wasn’t confirmed but Qwel was thinking about making Connie’s real name Boolynski, but she calls herself Connie because she doesn’t like her real name

-Tisha would most likely keep a collection of feather dusters, except they’re all just the same

-There were three scrapped Halloween toons with Connie, Qwel only gave us their names tho no design: Harvey, Countis(idk if this is how u spell it), and Duke. THESE THREE WILL NEVER BE ADDED TO THR GAME, NOR WILL WE SEE THEIR DESIGNS

doodles

the dandy and astro one got turned into an emoji lol