#she would do an EXCELLENT job cleaning!!

[bumblingbabooshka]

Maid Outfit but with Pants

[your-internet-bf]

It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."

You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...

"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"

"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?

"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"

Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.

"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."

As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.

We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.

"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.

I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.

"Very good, one more time for me."

You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.

"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."

The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?

While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.

"I'm - I'm sorry?"

"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."

You stare at me. "Remove my - "

"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.

I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.

I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.

Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."

I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."

Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.

"And spread for us, please."

Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.

"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "

You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...

My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".

The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.

The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.

"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."

The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.

You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"

"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"

You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.

One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.

It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.

The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."

Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."

"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.

You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...

The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.

You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.

"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."

Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.

"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."

[archangeldyke-all]

Oh man I have ideas..

Sevika has a home back in Zaun but she has to have an apartment in Piltover because of councilor duties until she fully adjusts to topside and accepts the insistent offers of a manor. Imagine being her wife and just helping her relax after her first day, cuddling and all that whilst adjusting to the fancy apartment bigger than your old house.

Or..

Sevika taking her wife out for a walk in Piltover, admiring more of the garden as the plants grow upon new soil. A talk about the future whilst holding hands.

Or..

Them renewing their vows, having that damn fancy wedding of the dreams.

Toodles!!!

EEEEEEEEK okay lets do some councilor sevika (also isha and jinx are still alive in this story because i said so. she doesn't need to suffer so much to still be an incredible leader. give her her girls!!!)

men and minors dni

you were the first person approached about sevika representing zaun in piltover's new council post-war.

you were a little concerned to find councilwoman shoola and three members of her personal guard on your front stoop-- and for just a moment you had a flash of anxiety that she was here looking for jinx or isha.

"councilwoman. hello." you say, still surprised. you've met the woman a few times before, both of you attending various re-building efforts around the undercity. she holds up a hand.

"please, dear, we've built a bookshelf together, you've seen me at my lowest. you can call me shoola."

"h-how can i help you counc-- shoola?" you ask. she smiles.

"i'm here regarding your wife."

you frown. "...is she in some kind of trouble?" you ask, already mentally planning how to worm sevika out of her trouble. the councilwoman chuckles.

"quite the opposite, actually. i'd like her to join the council... as an ambassador to the free nation of zaun." she says.

you nearly shit yourself at her words-- sevika's life work casually mentioned like it's just a sidenote. "the-- free?" you ask.

she smiles. "while the deaths of the other councilmembers in the war was a horrible loss, there are some issues i could never get my late colleagues to agree on. now, though... i've been given full authority to reorient the power structure of the council to avoid anymore kirraman's taking over-- and i've always been of the belief that zaun should be free."

"and w-what... you want to arrest jinx in exchange for it?" you ask.

shoola chuckles. "no."

"y-you want isha?" you ask. shoola laughs again.

"what could i want with a child? no!"

"so... what do you want?" you ask, your voice shaking as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"i just want your help talking sevika into the job. i know she can be... stubbo--?"

"bullheaded?" you guess as shoola searches for a kind word to describe sevika's stubbornness. she chuckles at your description of your wife and nods.

"here." she hands you a stack of papers. "i've outlined the full responsibilities of the job. as well as the benefits she will receive for serving. please. look it over and talk to her, would you?"

you do.

it's an excellent proposal.

as the undercity figures out how it wants to self govern, piltover will fund zaun's public infrastructure as if it's their own-- meaning that the undercity will, practically overnight, have access to things like clean water. and schools. and welfare. they will provide these services for up to fifteen years as zaun finds it's footing.

the position outlined for sevika in piltover's council is a way to assure piltover doesn't back out of their promises-- that somebody is there to call them out when they try to cut corners in helping the young nation of zaun find it's footing.

and, while your wife might miss the more physical aspects of her old work, you can see her chewing out some stingy old councilors for their greed in your minds eye, and you can't help but smile.

"what're you smilin' about?" sevika asks.

you jump and slam the folder in front of you closed, blinking up at your wife.

she's back from her meeting with ran, scar and jericho. the four of them have grown close in these past few months as they coordinate rebuilding efforts for various neighborhoods across zaun. you have to gulp, trying not to get dizzy with the possibilities of what sevika's job offer means for them as a team. as team zaun.

"h-how was your meeting?" you ask. sevika raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you and you huff. she sinks across the table from you, easily pulling the folder out of your grasp.

"meeting was fine. the elementary school bein' built in firelight's territory is almost ready to open. first school in zaun." she says with a smile. "now, what were you smiling at?"

"i was approached by councilwoman shoola this afternoon."

sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "did you two try to build a chair this time?" she teases. you groan and kick her shin, before tapping the folder in her hands.

"no. i was asked to convince my stubborn-ass, incredibly loyal, strong, beautiful, hard-fucking-headed wife to join the fucking council."

sevika blinks. "what?"

"they want you in the new council. serving as an ambassador. to the free nation of zaun, sevika."

sevika blinks again, and then she rips the file open, her silver eyes flying across the confidential text. "the fr-- the free nation of zaun?" she asks, her eyes flying up to yours to confirm. you grin and nod.

sevika flies out of her seat and crawls across the dining room table to reach you, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kisses you like her life depends on it.

you're there when shoola and sevika finally sit down to discuss the opportunity. shoola's the first piltoverian to not turn her nose up at the messy state of your small home-- she even grins at the sound of jinx and isha bickering from their bedroom. "you two have made a lovely home for yourselves, here." she says, sitting down at the table and jumping a bit when a toy squeaks under her bum. "i can almost see the love leaking out of the wallpaper."

"could be black mold." you whisper. sevika and shoola both sputter surprised laughs.

"sevika. have you considered my proposal?" shoola asks.

sevika sighs and nods. "i have a few conditions before i agree." she says.

this surprises you. as if the prospect of representing a free zaun isn't tempting enough, you saw the salary sevika's being offered. it's the kind of money that could buy you a house big enough that all four of you could have your own bathrooms.

(secretly, though, you hope you live in a tiny house forever. you like tripping over your family-- being within reaching distance at all times.)

"first. i'd like you to assign me the budget to employ three of my trusted confidants as advisors. i can give you their identities if you'd like, but i give you my word that they're good peo--"

"done." shoola cuts sevika off, scribbling a quick note in her journal before looking back up at the pair of you with a smile. "what else?" she asks.

you smile a bit. sevika blinks, then gulps. "jinx and her little friend ekko get a full ride to the university up top. they're incredibly gifted, and with a little proper education they could advance zaun--"

"you don't have to convince me, i remember how the war went. without them, we'd all be dead. i can arrange that."

"i don't want to leave zaun. i can't represent these people if i'm not living here. i'll need a car to get--"

"would you like a personal vehicle or a driver each morning and evening?" shoola asks.

sevika blinks. "a-a driver." she says, a little shocked.

"anything else?" shoola asks.

sevika nods. "o-one last thing." she reaches over to grab your hand. you have no idea what she could possibly want beyond what she's asked for-- she's taken care of her friends, her family, and her transport.

"anything." shoola says. you think the woman might mean it.

sevika looks down at her lap and sighs. "we... we never really got married." she says. you blink, not at all understanding why she's telling the councilwoman this. "i mean... we had a party and we exchanged vows," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. you squeeze her hand and her eyes flick up to yours, before shyly darting away like you guys haven't been married for a decade now. like you guys don't have two kids together. "but we never... nobody gets married in zaun. 's expensive. the trip up to the justice is too far. and..." sevika gulps, her voice getting shaky as she looks back up at you. "and you're the reason i've fought so hard for our home in the first place." she whispers.

tears start to well up in your eyes and you let out a shaky laugh. "what, 're you proposing to me again?" you ask. sevika snorts and shakes her head before turning to shoola. the woman's drying her own tears.

"will you arrange to have us married? officially?"

"i'd be honored." shoola agrees.

the wedding is small and intimate, you and sevika, jinx and isha, vi, ran, scar, jericho, and shoola.

the councilwoman took you to a beautiful little garden a few blocks away from the council, and she married you, officially, as the sun set and your girls threw handfuls of confetti into the sky.

your whole party marches through the streets of piltover and back to zaun for the afterparty, councilwoman shoola laughing happily as you introduce her to the zaunite tradition of barcrawling.

each bar you enter, jericho happily announces that you and sevika have been freshly married. sevika, being the new spokeswoman of zaun, is quite the celebrity now. all of this is to say, you spend the night drinking many free drinks, hugging many drunk strangers, and kissing your wife on request about a thousand times.

it's the best night of your life.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[v6quewrlds]

❝ say my name, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: success is great until you realize that you haven't touched your husband in nearly a month. feeling guilty about your absence, his new assistant's constant presence hits a nerve.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: game dey fic for good luck! i'm just gonna come clean and say that this picture inspired this entire thing. possessive joe we all say in unison. this was so fun to work on, thank you anon for the request <33 requests are still open!!

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: angst & smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, established relationship, jealousy, dom!joe, exhibitionism?, public sex, mirror sex?, size kink? size kink, cunnilingus bc joe burrow is an eater™, the tiniest baby hint of a breeding kink.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x fiancee!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.

The kitchen was bathed in the soft glow of the hanging lights hanging above the island, casting shadows that danced across the marble countertops as yourself, Joe, and your best friend, Tamara, sat around the kitchen table. The aroma of a quick meal filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of Joe's cologne and the sweetness of the boxed cake mix they had shared. Your dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun, your blowout beginning to curl up again. You and Tamara listening intently as Joe spoke of his assistant's impending departure. Your eyes, a deep shade of brown, drifted in and out of the conversation as you thought about the pile of work waiting for you at your office in downtown Cincinnati.

You just barely heard Tamara suggesting her cousin as a replacement. Tiffany, who was studying Marketing at the University of Cincinnati, had grown closer to her older cousin in her time in school despite the age difference between them. "She's been looking for an internship or something part-time," she said, hope sparkling in her voice. "It's tough out here, and she's really good with people."

Joe looked at you, who nodded in approval, half listening and trusting your best friend’s endorsement. "Send her my way, T," he said, smiling. "I'll set up an interview."

The following week was a blur of phone calls and emails as Joe prepared for the interview. Your schedule was packed with work, and Joe was buried in his season commitments. Your paths rarely crossed outside of brief moments at home, leaving your newly purchased house feeling more like a rest stop than a shared home.

When the day of Tiffany’s interview finally arrived, Joe was surprised by her poise and professionalism. She walked in dressed sharply, her confidence radiating in the room. Despite her youth, she spoke with the eloquence of someone who had been in the industry for years. Her references were impeccable, and her career goals were admirable. He had no doubts that she would be a valuable asset to his team.

You met Tiffany for the first time in the kitchen the morning after she started. The young woman's enthusiasm was palpable, but you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something not quite right with her demeanor. Tiffany's eyes lingered on Joe a little too long for your liking, and her smile was a bit too wide when he spoke to her. You shook yourself out of her skepticism and chalked it up to nerves and excitement about the job. You had to admit, after all, that Tiffany was a breath of fresh air. She was excellent in keeping up with Joe’s schedules and appointments, helping to shoulder some of the burdens he dreaded about his career.

The next few weeks passed in a whirlwind of game days and late-night reheated dinners. Your business was thriving, and Joe's season was on an upward trajectory. Yet, amidst all the success, there was a worrying feeling that something was off-balance. Tiffany was always there, a constant presence that seemed to hover closer to Joe than necessary. You tried not to let it get to you, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy every time Joe laughed at one of Tiffany's jokes or thanked her for handling something simple so efficiently.

You stood over your side of your twin sinks, your coils pushed back from your forehead as you completed your skincare routine. You felt a gentle nudge as Joe leaned against you, his reflection in the mirror showing the exhaustion etched into his features. It was 10 PM, way past Joe's bedtime, but you appreciated the effort he was showing to take advantage of what little time you could spend together.

"So, I've got a dinner tomorrow," he began, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet bathroom. His strong arms wrapped warmly around your waist. "It's a sponsor thing. Nothing crazy, no cameras. Just dinner and a few schmoozes."

Your eyes met his in the mirror. "You want me to come?" You tried to keep the hope out of your voice, but it crept in regardless.

"Yeah. I know you've been slammed with work, but I'd love it if you could come. It's at the Kinley downtown. They have that amazing tiramisu you love." Joe's smile was boyish, and your heart melted at the thought of a rare date night.

The last time you two had been to the Kinley was the night of your engagement three months ago. That famous tiramisu had been delivered to your suite to accompany a bottle of champagne after the hotel manager heard the city's star quarterback was celebrating an accepted proposal. It had been a night filled with laughter and love, and you couldn't help but hope for a similar experience tomorrow.

"Okay, I'll come," you said, turning to kiss him. "But only for the tiramisu."

Joe chuckled and squeezed you tightly. "Whatever it takes to drag you outside with me." He kissed the top of your head before reaching for his toothbrush. "But promise me you'll wear that dress I like, the white one."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "The one that never makes it through the door before you're trying to get it off me? That one?"

Joe grinned, his teeth flashing in the bathroom light. "You know the one."

The morning light streamed through the blinds, creating a checkered pattern across your bed. Your eyes fluttered open, the promise of the dinner date lingering in your mind. You felt Joe's warmth beside you, his even breaths a comforting soundtrack to the start of your day. As you slipped out of bed and into the shower, you couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement for the evening ahead. Joe was gone from his side of the bed when you returned from her shower, his deep voice carrying from the kitchen as he laughed over the phone with Ja'Marr.

As you got dressed to leave for work, you heard the doorbell ring. You didn't expect anyone, but Joe's voice grew louder as he spoke to someone at the door. You made your way downstairs to find Tiffany, dressed in a sleek casual outfit, her hair slicked down perfectly.

"Morning, you two," she chirped, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Joe. You felt a flicker of irritation but pushed it aside.

"Hi, Tiffany," you said with a forced smile. "I can't believe your boss got you over here so early."

Tiffany's eyes darted to Joe before returning to you. "Oh, it's no trouble. I just wanted to make sure everything is set for tonight. Joe said I could tag along to the dinner. You know, for networking and all."

Your smile didn't falter, but your stomach did a flip. "Networking? At the Kinley? Downtown? Tonight?" You couldn't help the searing glare you shot towards Joe who remained wrapped up in his own little world. Completely oblivious to the dissatisfaction on your face. 

You had to admit that you had hoped for a more intimate evening with Joe, but you had no desire to be rude. "That's a great opportunity, Tiffany. It'll be good to make some business connections in the city."

Joe looked between you, blissfully unaware of the tension between the two women. "You're right, babe. Tiffany's going to be graduating soon, and she needs all the help she can get." He gave you a kiss on the cheek, a hand reaching to cradle your waist. "Don't worry, I'll try to keep the business talk to a minimum."

You nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check. You didn't want to ruin your night with a petty argument about his assistant. After all, Joe had done so much to support you, especially with putting up with your late work hours recently.

Tiffany grimaced as Joe's hand lingered on your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. "Right," she murmured. "I'll just grab my laptop and get to work." She reached into her laptop bag, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at her reaction. You had agreed to come to the dinner to support Joe, not to play chaperone.

The day passed slowly, a mix of business meetings and working through the massive to-do list from your secretary leaving you with little time to dwell on the evening's potential awkwardness. When you finally returned home to get ready, you found Joe in your closet, half dressed in a sharp suit that hugged his muscular frame. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, and you had to admit that you felt a spark of excitement at the prospect of a night out with him.

"Joe, did you think Tiffany's energy was off this morning?" You asked as you stepped into the walk-in closet to choose your outfit.

Joe looked up from his phone, presumably texting his stylist, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

You emerged from the closet wearing the white dress he had requested, your eyes meeting his in the floor-length mirror. "She just seemed... eager."

Joe shrugged, his tie now hanging loosely around his neck. "Eager to network, you mean? That's what she's here for, babe." You nodded, trying to convince yourself that your jealousy was unfounded. You reached up to do up Joe's tie for him, your hands trembling slightly. As you stepped back to admire your work, he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"You look amazing," Joe whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hand cupped your cheek, his blue eyes sweeping over your face. "You always do, beautiful."

You felt a warm blush creep up your neck. "Thank you, baby." You kissed him lightly, trying to ignore the voice in the back of your head that whispered about Tiffany.

The drive to the Kinley was filled with Joe's stories from practice and Tiffany's chirpy interjections about the inside jokes they built up over the weeks she had been working for him. You listened politely, but your mind was elsewhere, planning how you could make the most of this evening. You didn't want to spend the entire night watching Joe work the room with his assistant by his side.

Once you arrived at the luxurious hotel, the valet took Joe's car, and the three of you stepped into the bustling lobby. The air was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet tension between yourself and Tiffany. You took a deep breath and slipped your hand into Joe's, reminding yourself that this was your night, despite the third wheel.

The dinner was a mix of business moguls and sports celebrities. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for a friendly face. You spotted a few local influencers from your business’ social media following, but you were already engaged in your own conversations. The grand ballroom of the Kinley Hotel was a sea of unfamiliar faces, all dressed to the nines and seemingly at ease. The three of you made your way to the table reserved for Joe and his two guests.

Tiffany was already scanning the room, her eyes lighting up as she recognized a potential networking opportunity. "Oh, there's Dr. Simpson from the university," she exclaimed. "I've been dying to talk to him about an internship."

Joe nodded, his gaze following her as she gracefully excused herself. "Go for it," he encouraged, offering her a kind smile. "I'll grab us some drinks."

You watched Tiffany weave through the crowd, an eager bounce in her step. As Joe returned with an espresso martini for you and an iced tea for himself, you couldn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach. You took a sip of your drink, trying to push the negative thoughts aside.

The evening progressed with Joe being pulled into conversation after conversation, leaving you to sit alone at the table. You checked your phone for the millionth time, scrolling through social media to keep yourself entertained. You were in no mood to schmooze with influencers and their sugar daddies, your work had already left you with minimal energy. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow over the room, and the clinking of silverware against china filled the air. You felt out of place, a fish out of water.

Your eyes followed Joe as he charmed a table of investors with a story about a recent game-winning play. Tiffany hovered at his side, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she subtly touched his arm, prompting him with information or a well-placed joke. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you watched Joe's assistant monopolize his time.

A server approached with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, and you finally gathered the will to stand and mingle. You recognized a few faces from your own business circles, but the conversations felt forced, the words sticking in your throat as you tried to maintain a cheery facade. With each passing minute, your frustration grew. This wasn't the romantic evening you had hoped for; it was just another work function for Joe with an unwelcome plus-one.

Tiffany reappeared at Joe's side, her laugh a tinkling sound that seemed to carry across the room. You felt a twinge of annoyance at her ease, the way she moved with confidence and charm among these powerful individuals despite her lack of experience. You couldn't help but wonder if Joe had noticed the flirtatious glances she kept casting his way.

"Babe, you okay?" Joe asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he took a seat beside you. His brow was furrowed with concern, and for a moment, you felt guilty for your jealous thoughts. You forced a smile and nodded. "Just a little tired," you said, playing off your discomfort.

But Joe wasn't buying it. He leaned in close, whispering, "What's going on, sweetheart?" You took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne calming your nerves slightly. 

"It's Tiffany," you confessed.

He frowned, glancing over at his assistant. "What about her?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, wanting to choose your words wisely. "It's just... she's all over you, Joe. And it's so fucking weird. She's supposed to be here for business, not to flirt."

Joe's eyes widened in surprise. "Flirt? She's not flirting with me." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to where Tiffany was now engaged with a group of businessmen. "Babe, she's just doing her job. Networking."

You felt a spark of frustration at his dismissal. "It's more than that, Joe. I can feel it." You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice low and steady. "I don't want to ruin your night, but I can't ignore how uncomfortable this is making me."

Joe studied you for a moment, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. But before either of you could say anything else, Tiffany came gliding back over, a triumphant smile on her face. "Joe, I've got a meeting with Dr. Simpson next week. He's interested in discussing some marketing strategies for the university's athletic program. You're a genius for bringing me here!"

Her eyes flicked to you, who offered a tight smile in return. "Congratulations, Tiffany," you said through gritted teeth. "You're doing a fantastic job." The words were perfectly sweet, topped off with a gentle lilt as you stood up from your seat. Your hands smoothed over your dress before pushing the chair back in. "But if you'll excuse me..." you trailed off, making your way through the crowd of people without a backward glance.

Joe's hand reached out to grab yours as she passed, but you slipped away. He watched your retreating figure, the frown on his face deepening as he realized he had a situation to handle. "I'll be right back," he told Tiffany, who nodded, her eyes tracking your exit with an odd expression that was not lost on Joe.

He found you in the quiet hallway outside the ballroom, leaning against the wall, your eyes closed. "Hey," he said softly, approaching you. You didn't open your eyes, but you didn't flinch either, which was a bad sign.

"Hey," you murmured, your voice low and tired.

Joe stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Babe, what's wrong? I don't like seeing you like this."

You took a deep breath, opening your eyes to meet Joe's concerned gaze. "It bothers me Joey, the way she acts around you is so fucking weird. And you're not even picking up on it." Your voice was laced with a hint of anger, but the exhaustion from your long day was clear.

Joe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. If you're uncomfortable, I'll talk to her," he offered, his voice sincere. "But she's been nothing but professional with me, sweetheart."

You looked at him, your eyes squinting in disbelief. "Joe, she's been all over you since she started working for you. That’s not professional."

He frowned, clearly confused. "Babe, she's just trying to do her job. She's young, eager to impress. It's not what it seems."

You pulled your arm away, your voice rising slightly. "Why would she need to impress you by flirting with you? She's your assistant, not a contestant on a reality show."

Joe's expression darkened as he took in her tone. "Babe," he warned slowly. "You're being dramatic."

But you were beyond caring. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a huff, "Joe," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and sadness. "You're so blind. She's obviously into you."

Joe's jaw tightened. "Look, if you need attention, I can give you attention." He offered his hand for you to take, his patience wearing thin.

You stepped back, the coldness in his voice cutting through the warmth of the room. "Is that what you think this is about? Attention?" You threw your hands up in frustration. "This isn't a game, Joe. This is our relationship!"

The music and laughter from the ballroom seemed to fade away as you faced each other, your words echoing in the quiet hallway. The silence between you seemed to stretch on for hours. Neither of you were willing to back down. 

Finally Joe took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I miss you." He hummed as a hand reached for your hip, pulling you closer to him. "It's been a month since we’ve done anything just the two of us."

Your eyes searched his, the frustration slowly melting away as you gave in. "I miss you too."

Joe's gaze softened, and he leaned in to kiss you. It was gentle at first, a sweet promise of comfort and reassurance, but it quickly grew into something more urgent. A month's worth of longing and tension poured into that kiss, and suddenly, the hallway didn't feel so cold anymore. Your knees practically buckled under his touch, his hands grasping at your curves with a hunger you missed so desperately.

"I need to feel you," he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding around your waist.

You felt a thrill run through you. You knew Joe wasn't the type to act on impulse like this, but you couldn't deny that a part of you craved this passion from him. You had been so busy, and this raw passion was a stark reminder of why you were together. You leaned into him, the heat from your bodies melding together.

"Baby, not here," you whispered, though your voice was laced with want. You didn't miss the twinkle in his eye as he glanced down the hallway.

"Come on, let's go somewhere private." He took your hand, leading you away from the ballroom's prying eyes. You stumbled into an empty bathroom, the door clicking shut behind them. The tension between the two of you crackled in the air as Joe's hands slid up your thighs, pushing your dress up. You gasped as his mouth found your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of heat.

In the dimly lit bathroom, your eyes locked in the mirror. The reflection showed a side of them that hadn't been seen in weeks—desperate and passionate. You gasped as Joe bent you over the counter, his hands roaming under your dress. The cool marble sent a shiver down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the heat between your legs. You didn't protest when he pulled your panties to the side, instead leaning into the sensation of his hand on your skin.

Joe's voice was a gruff whisper in your ear. "Do you want me to stop?" His thumb traced a tantalizing circle around your clit, and you bit back a moan.

"No," you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck me."

With a grunt, Joe complied, his hand moving away to unbuckle his pants. He was already hard, his cock pressing against your ass as he lined himself up. He slammed into you without much prep, and your moan echoed in the tiled room. You gripped the edge of the counter, your breath getting caught in your throat as he began to thrust into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with the distant laughter and clinking glasses from the dinner.

Your movements grew more erratic as you both gave into your desires. Your heels clicked against the marble floor with every thrust, the sound bouncing off the walls. Joe's grip tightened on your hips, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered dirty nothings that made your toes curl. It was a stark contrast to the elegant evening gown you wore, now hiked up around your waist, and the fancy hotel bathroom you found yourself in.

"Harder," you moaned, your voice thick with desire.

"Yeah?" Joe questioned, his grip tightened on your hips, his rhythm quickening as he drove into you. The bathroom's sterile scent was overpowered by your mingled perfume and the scent of your arousal. The world outside the bathroom door faded away, replaced by the symphony of your panting breaths and the wet slap of your bodies coming together.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering open to meet Joe's in the mirror. The sight of him, all muscular and intense, brought a new wave of arousal crashing over you. You felt the tension in your core tighten with every stroke, your body begging for release.

"I'm right here," Joe murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the urgent sounds of your lovemaking. His eyes held yours in the mirror, a silent promise that he heard you and that he cared. "You're all mine, baby. You're all I want. The only one."

You felt your body respond to his words, the tension coiling tighter, your orgasm approaching like a freight train. "Baby," you moaned, your nails digging into the counter. "I'm gonna come."

Joe's eyes darkened, and he thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you. "Come for me, sweetheart," he urged, his own breathing ragged. "You wanted my attention? You got it. Right here, right now."

Your body obeyed, shuddering with pleasure as she climaxed, your inner walls clenching around him. He groaned, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. The sound of your passion bounced off the marble walls, echoing through the empty hallway outside. It was a reminder of the passion that still burned between the two of you, despite the distance your busy lives had created.

You both came down from your highs, your breathing slowly returning to normal as Joe held you against him, your hands resting against the cool bathroom sink. "I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter.

Joe leaned in to kiss your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't be. We both needed this." He pulled out of you gently, setting you upright to clean you up gently. You straightened out your clothes, trying to compose yourselves before returning to the dinner.

When you exited the bathroom, the tension between you had shifted. The awkwardness was gone, replaced with a newfound intimacy and understanding. You held hands as you walked back to the ballroom, your eyes meeting in a silent promise that you wouldn't let your busy lives come between you two again.

As you re-entered the buzzing room, the first person you saw was Tiffany, who was chatting with a group of people. Her eyes immediately darted to your joined hands and hazy eyes. You felt a smug satisfaction at the slight flicker of jealousy in the assistant's gaze. But you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Joe and the rest of the night ahead of you.

Joe steered you to your table, and you noticed that the dinner had progressed to dessert without you. The other guests were engaged in lively conversations, oblivious to the passionate interlude the two of you had just shared. You couldn't help but feel a bit rebellious, a bit wild, knowing that while everyone else was munching on chocolate tiramisu, you had just been properly fucked by your fiancé in the bathroom.

You sat down and picked at your desserts, Joe occasionally squeezing your hand under the table. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and forced smiles, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Tiffany's eyes kept finding you, lingering a second too long on the lean into each other or the occasional kiss you shared.

As the dinner wound down and guests began to disperse, Joe leaned in, whispering, "Let's get out of here." The excitement in his voice was palpable, and you found yourself smiling genuinely for the first time that evening.

"What about Tiffany? She's not ready to leave," you whispered, glancing at Joe's assistant who was still deep in conversation.

"She's a big girl," Joe said with a firmness in his voice that made your stomach flutter. "We need some time alone."

"Joe," you warned, your voice a mix of amusement and concern. "You can't just leave her here."

He leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Why not? She's a smart girl, she can handle herself."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smirk that played on your lips. "Fine. But you're telling her we're leaving."

Joe leaned back in his chair, his own smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "My pleasure." He stood, his movements graceful despite his towering height. He approached Tiffany, and you watched as he tapped her on the shoulder. The young assistant's smile faltered when she saw who it was, the new glow in his features unmistakeable.

"Tiffany, we're heading out," Joe said, his voice firm but not unkind. "I know you're not ready to leave yet. But when you are, just order an Uber. It's on me, you can Venmo me in the morning."

Tiffany's expression tightened, and she nodded, trying to play it cool, but the sting of being ditched was clear in her eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt, but you couldn't bring herself to care much. Like Joe said, she was a smart girl, and it didn't take much to see the sexual tension floating between an engaged couple.

The two of you made your way through the lobby, giggling to each other as you tried to slip out under the radar. An older man passed by, giving you a knowing smile. "Looks like the night's just getting started for you two," he said with a wink.

Joe's arm tightened around your waist as he replied, "You could say that," with a mischievous grin. "I'm taking my wife home." The man chuckled before continuing on his way, leaving you to your own devices.

"Wife? Already?" You teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was promised another ring, Mr. Burrow.”

"Might as well get used to calling you that," Joe said, a hint of possessiveness in his tone that sent a thrill through you. “The ring will come in due time, Mrs. Burrow.”

You stepped outside into the cool Cincinnati evening, the sounds of the city muffled by the plush hotel lobby behind you. The valet pulled up with Joe's sleek black sports car, and you couldn't help but feel like a teenager again, sneaking out for a date with your forbidden boyfriend. You drove through the city streets, the tension in the car thick with unspoken words and lingering passion.

Back home, you didn't bother with small talk. The moment you were through the door, Joe scooped you into his arms and carried you upstairs in a bridal carry to your bedroom. Your kisses were deep, your touches exploratory, as if you were discovering each other all over again.

"Joseph," you scolded as he tossed you onto the plush king-sized bed, your bodies tangling together as he followed you down. His broader, more muscular body covered yours completely. Your heart swirled with arousal at the thought of him towering over you, claiming you as his wife as he did earlier. 

He kissed you deeply, his hands exploring the curves of your body as if he hadn't touched you in years instead of just an hour. Your fingers danced over his chest, feeling the familiar strength beneath the fabric of his shirt, your desire for him growing with every beat of your heart.

"I think we have some unfinished business," Joe murmured against your neck, his voice deep and filled with desire as his hands continued to roam over your body. His mouth trailed hot kisses along your collarbone, making you arch into him with a gasp.

Your own hands found their way to his shirt buttons, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. As the fabric parted, you could see the outline of his muscles, the result of countless hours of training and hard work. You ran your fingertips over his chest, feeling his heart race beneath your touch. It was a powerful reminder that, despite his rigorous schedule, he was all yours.

"Open those pretty legs for me," Joe groaned, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, pushing your body up even further on the bed and tearing your panties away.

You eagerly complied, your heart pounding in anticipation as Joe's eyes darkened with lust. He kissed down your body, peppering your skin with kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake. When his mouth reached your pussy, you bucked your hips upward, desperate for his touch. His tongue slid along your slit, teasing your clit before delving deeper. Your moans grew louder, filling the quiet room, as he feasted on you, bringing you to the brink of another orgasm.

"Fuck, baby," you whispered as Joe's tongue swirled around your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You couldn't believe how much you needed this, how much you craved his touch after being entrenched in your busy life. Your body felt alive again, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as Joe worked his magic on you.

"Yes, Joe," you moaned, your hips rocking against his face as Joe's skilled mouth brought you closer to climax. You felt him smile against you, the movement sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you. You were lost in the sensation, your body trembling as you reached for his hair, gripping the short strands in your fists.

"Yes, yes," you panted, your body writhing under Joe's relentless attention. His tongue was a masterful tool, bringing you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. You could feel the tension building within you, your toes curling and your grip on his hair tightening as you approached your peak.

"I'm gonna come," you warned, your voice breathless. "Baby, please don't stop. I need you so bad."

Joe's only response was a low growl of approval, his mouth working faster as he felt your body tense beneath him. He knew you were close, he could taste it in the sweetness of your arousal. With one final, lingering lick, you shattered, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Joe looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with pride and lust as he watched you come apart in his arms.

You collapsed back onto the bed, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering shut. Joe didn't waste any time, quickly shedding his own clothes before sliding between your legs. He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock thick and hard with desire.

"Look at you," Joe murmured, his voice thick with lust. His eyes traced the lines of your body, taking in every inch of you like it was the first time all over again. "So beautiful, all mine. Never seen anyone so fucking perfect."

You felt your body warm at his words, your eyes snapping open to meet his. "Joe," you whispered, your voice a plea for more as you felt him nudge against your entrance. He slid in slowly, filling you completely, making you gasp with the sudden fullness.

Your rhythm was slow at first, a gentle rocking that grew in intensity with every beat of your hearts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back. Joe's eyes never left yours, the love and desire in his gaze setting you alight. You moved together in perfect harmony, your bodies speaking a language that only the two of you understood.

"Joey," you whispered, your voice strained with need as his hips rocked into you steadily. His thrusts grew stronger, more demanding. The bed beneath you creaked with the force of your passion, the only sound in the room your ragged breaths and the slick sounds of skin on skin.

Your voice cut off with a strangled moan as he hiked your thighs up higher. Your calves now rested on his broad shoulders, as your pelvises cushioned against each other. 

“What is it baby?” Joe questioned softly against your parted lips, your breaths mingling together in whispers of moans. “You know I’d give you whatever you need. Just ask.”

"Tell me you love me," you breathed, your eyes locked on Joe's. 

His pupils dilated, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I love you, beautiful. So fucking much," he growled, his voice a mix of passion and frustration at the same time. "You're mine, and I'm yours. No one else." His words were punctuated by his hips, driving into you with a ferocity that mirrored the emotions churning within you.

"Only yours," you repeated, your voice a breathy whisper as Joe's cock slammed into you, each stroke hitting a spot deep inside that sent you spiraling towards another climax. The words resonated within you, a departure from the insecurity that had plagued you earlier in the evening.

"Fuck, Joey," you moaned, feeling the pressure build inside you once again. Your nails dug into his back, urging him to go harder, faster. "Don't stop, baby, don't ever stop."

Your movements grew more frantic, the passion between you a live wire, sparking and crackling in the air. Joe's muscles bulged with effort as he drove into you, each stroke hitting deeper than the last. The room grew hazy with lust, the only reality the feel of your bodies joined together.

"I don't want you to ever doubt how much I love you," Joe said through gritted teeth, his eyes stuck on your pleasure-ridden face. He pushed into you, each thrust a declaration of his love and ownership. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt the familiar tightness begin to coil within you for the third time that night. "Not when I'm with you, not when I'm at work, not when I'm around anyone else."

Your lovemaking grew more intense with every word, each one a promise that resonated through your soul. The feeling of him inside you was more than just physical; it was a reaffirmation of your commitment, a reminder of your bond. Your nails raked down Joe's back, leaving a trail of red in their wake. Your legs tightened around him, pulling him closer, as if you could somehow fuse your bodies into one.

"I fuck you too hard?" Joe smirked, his voice strained as he felt your tight grip on him. He knew you were close, your breath hitching in your throat, your eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

"Too good?" He continued his relentless pace, his hips slapping against yours. You could only nod, your mouth forming a silent "yes" as you rode the wave of ecstasy. Your legs trembled around him, your body begging for more.

“Want me to fill you up, baby?” His mouth kept running as his voice became more strained with effort.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped out, your eyes flying open to meet Joe's intense gaze. You could feel your orgasm building, your muscles clenching around his cock. The way he filled you, the way he claimed you with every stroke, it was more than you could handle.

"How could you ever doubt me baby?" Joe whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he drove into you even deeper. 

His lips found your neck, biting at the soft flesh and soothing the pain with the flick of his tongue until you were squirming beneath him. "How could you doubt me when this good cock is just for you, huh?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head as another orgasm ripped through you without warning, your body tightening around Joe's cock. He groaned, feeling your pussy pulse with pleasure as he picked up the pace, driving into you faster and harder. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, the bed shaking beneath you as you both gave yourselves over to the moment.

Joe felt his own release building, the pressure at the base of his spine growing with every stroke. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, your teeth clashing together as you lost yourselves together. He could feel your pussy clench around him, milking his cock, and with a struggle of a moan, he came, filling you with his warmth.

For a moment, you two lay there, panting and trembling, your hearts racing. Then Joe pulled out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you both fought to catch your breaths. You felt his heart thud against your chest, the steady beat a reassurance of his love and commitment.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you come," Joe murmured, his voice still thick with desire as he kissed the side of your neck. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the aftermath of your lovemaking. 

Moments later, you leaned back into his broad chest as you soaked in the warm water of your bathtub. Your bodies tangled together, the only sound your ragged breaths and the occasional whisper of love and reassurance. The tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by a comfort and closeness that you hadn't felt in weeks. You knew your schedules were hectic, but moments like these reminded you why you had agreed to marry Joe in the first place.

"You know I don't doubt you, Joe," you murmured against his shoulder, your voice sleepy with satisfaction. "Tiffany's behavior today was weird. And I felt guilty about my feelings and I took it out on you."

Joe sighed, his arms tightening around you. "I’m sorry we’ve been so distant, baby. I'll talk to her. I hated seeing you so upset." He kissed the top of your head.

"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling closer to him. Despite your exhaustion, you knew that talking about Tiffany had brought the issue back to the surface. But Joe's embrace made you feel safe, and you allowed yourself to relax into the comfort of his arms.

"It's not just her," Joe began, his voice serious. "I know I've been distant, with the season and everything. But you're my priority, always." His fingers traced lingering patterns into your ribcage under the water. "I don't want anything to come between us."

Your heart swelled at his words, his voice devoid of any sign of doubt. "I know you don't," you said softly. "We'll do better, baby. I know we can."

Joe nodded, a serious look crossing his features. "We will. I promise." He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your temple. The silence was a welcome comfort, the weight of your promises lingering in the air.

[r3starttt]

GUN PLAY

PAIRING: Caitlyn Kiramman x reader

It started with that habit she had of playing with the small fancy gun. It was handled with so much care, so much attention even without it being intended. And the look on her face- the little frown, the scrunch of her nose and the small pout on her lips while her eyes wandered on whatever work stuff she was dealing with and had her stressed- maybe you should've kept it to yourself.

You knew her pretty well, yet there was this naive thought. Maybe if you stared in silence, she wouldn't notice.

Her eyes met yours, in mere loud silence. Gun in hand and a paper in the other one, she looked mad, annoyed- disturbed? Your jaw clenched and unclenched until it got busy with her lips, opening enough to allow her tongue inside. She seemed desperate, hidden by her commanding tone, her height, her grip not hesitating on undressing you.

The kiss seemed interrupted by both your and her moans. Her steps guiding you to the edge of her bed, not caring about anything else but having you displayed for her. The cold tips of her digits caressed the skin of your thighs, pushing you to lay over her perfectly made bed. She opened them wide, her mouth truly salivating at the sight. You were so pretty and you were all hers.

She made her way between them, towering you and resting her weight in her elbows, sinking the matress on your sides. "Open," and you did "Now... suck," her command was followed by a nod at your instant obedience. Her eyes shined with awe, admiration. Her fingers fully sinking into your mouth, being sucked by you with no hesitance at all. "Enough."

Her lips hovered over yours, wanting to get the look of your face the second she pressed those same drool covered fingers at the mere entrance of your wet pussy. "You're so wet... what's going on in that brain of yours, mhm?" A gasp hit her lips on exchange once she did, thrusting them in and out of you with quite ease. "Come on, love." You hid yourself in wandering eyes, focusing only on her parted lips, almost perfect tonfit your own, cupping her face to pull her closer.

"It was the gun, wasn't it?" Her mocking came along a quiet chuckle, followed by the gentlest kiss on the corner of your lips. Her fingers thrusting your slick covered pussy in the most obscene way possible. And you nodded, no longer caring about the shame but the pleasure. "Be patient love, just like that." Her lips lowered to your neck, sucking at the skin there. Then down your breasts, close to your nipples but not really touching them. And then your stomach, where she left your body alone. cleaning her digits with your mouth once again. The salty and sweet of your own wet filling your mouth full while she got herself occupied with something.

There was a sudden cold hitting your clit, it made you hump closer to it. "Oh, look at that... my pretty girl" she'd laugh at you. "Go on." And you followed her command, grinding your hole against whatever it was- the gun.

Your eyes opened Inmediatelly, peeking through. It made you stop. She was excellent with her shots, perfect handle. You'd experienced the many talents yourself after all, but one thing was her own touch and another the gun itself. Yes. it was empty, yes, she would never hurt you. But- "Shh, just breathe. You can do that for me, can't you, love?" Yes, you could- you can.

"Good" she coos, with her free hand running up and down your leg, scratching at your inner thigh until she switches the grip on the gun and repeats the motions with her other hand.

The exhale you're about to let out gets cut off at the sensation inside you, the cold and big of the gun sliding between your folds and into your walls, that don't hesitate on clenching around it. After all, this is sort of what you wanted. And she's being far too fair on providing you with such after keeping her occupied and far from her beloved job.

You gasp, adjusting yourself to the mere tip of the gun. She slides it in and out with ease. Her own slit wet at the sight of your pussy, at the sounds it makes just for her? You're too sweet for her, too "Good, so good for me."

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @kiki5gigi @thesevi0lentdelights | - caitlyn taglist: @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages @mirconreadzztuff22 @crispers @moonlyblue @bruhhtsukjf | this one goes to @clairoscharm and her pretty brain, hope u enjoy my not so smart brain, I'll get back to this later

[strwbwrrybunny]

𝒮𝐻𝒰𝒯 𝒰𝒫 𝒜𝒩𝒟 𝑅𝐼𝒟𝐸 ─── eren y. x connie s.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

─ you're a car enthusiast aiming to win a race for some extra money, but the handsome guys next to you already intended to take the victory.what happens when you three bump heads?

content warning ˚୨୧⋆｡˚slutty writing, 18+

word count ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 6k

parings ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ eren x connie x reader

the scorching heat slithered against your shimmering skin like a venomous snake, poised to overpower you. summer was by far your least favorite season.you fucking detested every aspect of it - the unsettling bugs, the pollen, and above all, the unbearable heat.

it came as a shock when your father informed you that the two of you would be relocating from alaska to los angeles. the contrast between the two places was stark. alaska's rugged coastline was a sight to behold, and you were disappointed when you arrived in flat los angeles. while it had its downsides, you would miss the beautiful glaciers, crystal clear lakes, and towering mountains.

your wandering mind returned to focus when a bright pink butterfly settled on your grimy hand, its wings fluttering softly. as you inspected it more intently, you noticed the sprinkling of black and white across her wings.and yes, you instinctively assumed she was a girl.

you softly called out to the insect, "hi baby." it appeared to examine the car oil on your hands before fluttering off, causing you to furrow your brows.

“rude ass butterfly.”

you turned back to your vehicle, your baby, your most valuable possession. a 2021 porsche taycan, you had it customized in hot pink, your favorite color. you had rescued mia—yes, you named your vehicle—from a collision. you’d invested numerous hours and a significant amount of money into reviving her.

she was your greatest achievement, adorned with blacked-out rims, 5% tint, a hello kitty-themed pink interior, and a hello kitty bumper sticker middle finger held high as it read, ‘if you're going to ride my ass, at least take me out for dinner first’

you were doing an oil change for mia. it was well needed seeing as you’d exceeded your mileage. you felt grateful to your father for consistently bringing you along to his mechanic job, even though you disliked it initially - with its loud, smelly, and grimy environment. however, as you kept accompanying him, you gradually developed an interest.

you observed your father working, and one day he’d noticed your feigning curiosity. he called you over and you’d listened as he talked about his techniques.

you learned quickly, and by the time you were sixteen, you had secured a position working alongside your father.

after you finished high school, it wasn't unexpected that the first thing you did was to obtain your certification in automobile service excellence. you landed a job at one of the busiest mechanic shops in town, and your wallet was definitely happy about it.

exhausted, you let out a deep sigh as you completed the task of changing the oil and lowered the car to the ground. the final step involved installing and removing the oil dipstick to check the oil level.

“damn, if i were lesbian i’d be swooning right now.”

peering over your shoulder,you smiled looking at your best friend aaliyah walking towards you, holding two refreshing cold glasses of lemonade. you've been besties since junior high and she's like a sister to you. after school, you both snagged a spot together.

“i think i could still pull you,” you sprouted a fake pout while wiping your greasy hands on a towel. once your hands were clean, you pulled her close, planting a kiss on her cheek with a mischievous grin. the lightskin girl felt her cheeks warm, stomach fluttering as she pushed you away.

“tease.”

“always.” you winked.

you couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh as you savored the flavor of your friend's homemade lemonade. it was the perfect balance of sweetness and tartness.

you had pleaded with her to share the recipe, but she always played the role of the mysterious chef, insisting that some secrets were meant to be kept.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

pink, scintillating bubbles piled up dangerously close to the edge of the bathtub, ready to overflow. the water had a tempting pink hue, which wasn't surprising considering the bath bomb you’d added was called "pinky pie".

a relaxed breath left your lips and leaned your head against the edge of the bathtub, feeling goosebumps on your skin as the cold metal made you shiver. without realizing it, you had sunk so low in the water that half of your face was covered by the foamy water, stopping just below your nose.

‘girls need love to’ playing quietly in the background.

the candles you lit beautifully contrasted with the dimmed lights, filling the room with a heavenly scent.

this was precisely what you fucking needed after a tough week: facing your ex, getting a drink thrown at you by an irate customer, and being dragged across the pavement when your great dane decided to chase a squirrel. and that was only half of your week.normally, you'd smoke to clear your mind, but you were flat out of weed and your plug was out of town.

just your luck.

you attempted to meditate and calm your thoughts, but the idea of coginating and being alone in your thoughts didn't sound the least bit satisfying. so here you were, endlessly browsing through tumblr: your eyes shifting from one explicit image to another. it was no secret that you'd been in a recent dry spell, not even your fling with armin could satisfy your naughty cravings.

if you were truly honest with yourself, he never did.

armin was too gentle, too soft. one fucking squeak from you and he was ready to stop, thinking he had hurt you. you enjoyed being taken roughly and aggressively, wanting to be called the vilest things. you craved a hand wrapped around your throat, choking until your lungs screamed for the sweet relief of air.

you desired to be put in your place and spanked until your ass stung. you liked armin, truly, but he wasn't satisfying you.

sure, you loved being cuddled and kissed, but it wasn't what you were looking for. yesterday , you went to his house looking for a release. he had you in doggy style for about two minutes before he was whining and cumming all over your back.

embarrassing.

your hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they slipped past your stomach and stopped at your tingling bud. just as you went to flick your finger across it a startling bang made you jump.

“omg! there’s a car meet in an hour and ony is taking me. you should definitely come! ony mentioned there would be some racing. you’d easily win with that death trap of yours.”

aaliyah burst through the bathroom door, yammering while her eyes remained glued to her phone, likely texting ony. ony was the embodiment of a man whore; he used his good looks and charisma to draw you in, only to string you along without any genuine intention of pursuing a real relationship. aaliyah and ony had been on-and-off since their freshman year of high school. every week it seemed as if they were at each others throat ,then lovey dovey the next.

countless times, you attempted to persuade your best friend to break up with him. you didn’t know what she saw in his narcissistic ass, and you made sure he knew how much you disliked him whenever he was around.

“okay, first of all, knock before you come in. secondly , i hate that nigga, so stop texting him. and third, my baby is not a death trap.”

aaliyah clicked her tongue and sat on the marble bathroom countertops,”ony is doing better y’know.maybe you’d see that if didn’t loath him.”

you scoffed,”weren’t you guys literally just arguing two days ago?”

“yeah but that was different!” she whined,crossing her arms.

“right.”

you had to admit a car show and racing did peek your interest, you got to gawk at hot guys and potentially walk away with five grand, you were so in. you figured you’d use that extra cash to add a couple more things to your car. you wanted to add pink heart shaped valve stem caps as well as a wing on the car,also pink of course.

it’d been almost a year since you last raced with your baby, remembering how stunned your opponents were that they’d gotten beaten by a girl in a fucking hello-kitty pink porsche.

men,and their fragile ass egos.

“sooo,you in? you can't pass up cash, cars, and pretty boys," aaliyah said, raising her eyebrows.

you nodded,giggling.

“fine,yes. now out!” you smiled, ushering her from the bathroom. aaliyah squealed with joy, kicked her feet, slid off the counter, and broke into a happy dance. 'out!' you shouted playfully, pointing towards the door until she listened.

as soon as you scrubbed away the week's events, you stepped out of the bath and wrapped your pink towel tightly around your chest. you still hadn’t figured out what you would wear to the car meet - something slutty enough, but not too slutty. at the moment, your focus lay on your skincare routine, with a pink plush bow headband pulling your hair from your face as you used a cleansing brush to work in the facial scrub.

although you were a greasy mechanic most days, you didn’t play when it came to hygiene. most of the time when you’d mention your job, you’d be met with a laugh as they thought you were joking. you definitely didn’t seem like the type of girl who'd know her way around an engine.then you'd rattle off some car facts and watch their jaws drop.

you splashed water on your face, then moisturized, finally moving onto the last step. brushing your lashes out technically wasn’t skincare, but you did it religiously so it might’ve well have been.

you were glad you had gotten your hair done the previous day,that would definitely cut your time of getting ready in half.aaliyah was studying cosmetology, so you often became her test subject for new styles, her latest being a pastel pink wig.

at first, you doubted if such a bright color would suit you, but you quickly fell in love with the final look.you decided you would have aaliyah do some crimps once your makeup was done.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

you chose to go for a subtle makeup look with a bright under eye, ensuring you sprayed your face three times with morphe setting spray. although the sun had went down july humidity was brutal.the final touch was lining your cupid’s bow with a brown liner and applying clear gloss over it. aaliyah decided to roll a joint, and you could hear her clicking her tongue and cursing at the gloss stains on the blunt.

after digging through your closet, you opted for a pink strapless tank top with a cute bow on the hem, matching it up with a short denim skirt that highlighted your figure. you accessorized with sparkling gold bracelets and oversized gold hoops before slipping into some pink wedge sandals.

damn, you looked good.

“i can’t wait to see some eye candy tonight!” aaliyah said excitedly as she pinned a section of your hair up and grabbed the crimper.

you peered up at her through your lashes,”aren’t you going with ony?”

“yeahhh, so? what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” she giggled,placing a neat crimp down and spraying hairspray on it.

“god you two are so toxic.” you huffed,crossing your legs

“maybe, but the dick is too good.”

“please don’t put the imagine of a naked ony in my head.” you scrunched your nose is disdain.

“whatever. hopefully you can find a guy you like tonight, i’m tired of hearing your rose toy at night.” aaliyah commented as she crimped the last piece of hair,holding it in place as she sprayed it.

you felt your cheeks warm up in embarrassment.it was true,your rose toy had been working overtime to please you but it could never seem to hit the spot. maybe you potentially could find a fling and and wipe your hands of armin.

you looked into the mirror and admired your perfect crimps that fell down your back,”you did your thing liyah,this is so cute!”

“i know.”

you giggled as you could see her head practically growing at the compliment.

a beep signaled ony’s arrival, and you rolled your eyes as aaliyah squealed like a high school girl. you inhaled from the blunt again. although not your regular choice, it somewhat alleviated your nerves about tonight.you ashed it out with a deep exhale.

here we go.

‘up and down’ by doja cat blared from your car's speakers as you followed closely behind ony’s camaro. he drove wildly, forcing you to almost run several lights.he knew you hated him and probably found the whole situation hilarious. irritation churned inside you and if you didn't love your car, you'd have likely rammed into his.

you pulled up to the car meet, the lot lined with all sorts of vehicles, from sleek sports cars to rugged muscle cars. as you step out of your ride, you can feel the eyes on you, accompanied by a wave of chatter that ripples through the crowd.

the air is thick with the smell of burning rubber, marijuana, and alcohol, creating a heady mix that hits your senses. ‘like a g6’blares through the speakers, the bass so powerful that you can feel the vibrations pulsing through the ground beneath your feet. the night is alive with energy, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you take in the scene around you.

"oh em gee!" aaliyah squealed with excitement as she stepped out of ony’s car, locking her arm in yours. "look at this!" she beamed.

“i know,it’s like i’ve died and i’m in car heaven!” you giggled.

the night air was crisp and warm, and you were glad you sprayed your face until it was stiff. you could see a group of friends approaching you. you were used to people asking to take pictures of your car, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention.

the group approached with wide eyes and excited chatter, their phones already out and ready. you gave them a nod and a smile, feeling a sense of pride as they admired your ride.

the night was just beginning, and you knew it was going to be a memorable one.

as you sit on the hood of your car, a guy from the group steps forward, clearly impressed. "man, this ride is something else," he says, running his hand along the sleek lines of your car. "what kind of mods have you got under the hood?"

you smile, enjoying the chance to talk about your pride and joy. "thanks! I've got a turbocharger installed, upgraded the exhaust system, and did a custom tune. it really makes a difference in performance."

he nods appreciatively, clearly impressed. "i bet it does. the paint job is killer too. did you do it yourself?"

"yeah, i spent a lot of time on it," you reply. "wanted to make sure it stood out."

he grins. "well, you definitely succeeded. mind if I snap a few pics of you with the car?

"go ahead," you say, leaning back and watching as he and his friends take photos from different angles, appreciating the admiration and the camaraderie of the car meet.

“it’s not even that special,” you could hear ony grumble.

“awe,are you jealous you aren’t getting any attention?” you fake pouted while teasing him.

he rolled his eyes and flipped you off.

“right back at you bitch.”

you looked at him smugly before your eyes scanned the lot.

your brown eyes settle on two men,both looked like they’d just walked out of a model magazine. one has long, flowing hair that catches the light, while the other sports a neat buzz cut. both are wearing fitted black shirts that perfectly show off their intricate tattoos along with muscled arms.the long haired boy sported a pair of beat up converse and buzz cut sported black nike dunks.

they seem engrossed in a conversation, occasionally glancing at their cars with pride. almost if he can feels your eyes on him the man with the long hair locks your gaze.his green eyes were nothing short of mesmerizing, they held a seductive allure that made you clamp your legs together. his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light,flecks of gold dancing with the green.

he had those type of eyes that could see right through you,dark secrets,desires.

your heart fluttered as his lifted one hand and waved.

you sheepishly waved back.

you wanted to sink into the ground when when he nudged his friend and pointed towards you,his friend chuckled and shook his head when long hair had said something that you couldn’t make out. you suddenly felt exposed, and you turned your back to them and looked at aaliyah who was making out with ony.

you grimaced,”get a room freaks.”

aaliyah giggled as her lips never left ony’s,”you wish.”

you wished you’d brought your flask.

“when’s the race ony?” you questioned when the two had finally unlatched lips.

“mm,in like fifteen minutes i think. you joining?”

you nodded,”i think i have a good shot.”

he smiled,”type shit, you got it girl.”

your heart fell to your ass when you turned back around and saw those beautiful pair of green eyes and a pair of vibrant golden hazel eyes.

“sweet ride,this yours?” green eyes spoke,his voice was deep and guttural and matched him perfectly.

buzz cut nodded.

“definitely a head-turner.”

you smile as they compliment your car, but when they turn their attention to you, their expressions shift. their gazes linger a bit longer, and you can feel your cheeks heat up.

they're not just admiring the car, but also you.

“pretty car for a pretty girl.” green eyes smirked,”i’m eren,this is connie” he motioned to his friend who flashed you a pretty white smile.

“i’m y/n.” you stammered out.

god,why were you so fucking nervous?

“you racing tonight, beautiful?” connie questioned and you could feel your stomach flutter at the compliment.his voice was a higher pitch then eren’s but you still found it alluring.

“yeah! are you guys?”

they nodded.

“just letting you know we’ve never lost a race,but i tip my hat to you cutie.” eren stated,his eyes flickering over your body.

he found it hard to imagine you’d be racing.your big brown eyes peered up at him through wispy lashes,glossy lips pulled into a smile.your short skirt reveals just enough to make his imagination run wild. he’s taken aback; you look like you stepped right out of an episode of my little pony, hello kitty and kuromi tattoos adorning your left arm.he finds you sexy,and his imagination flickers over to him having you spread out as he uses that pretty little mouth of yours.

“ignore him,he’s…competitive.” connie butts in.

while eren found you sexy connie found you simply,cute.but just like eren he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to you underneath him,whimpering, sweet little cries filling his ears in bliss as he rocked your body.

“well, may the best man win.” you gulp out,suddenly feeling a bit intimated by the two men towering over you,hungry look in their eyes.they were so close you could smell their colognes wafting into your nose,a mixture of musk and spice between the both of them.

“indeed.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

the atmosphere is electric with anticipation. cars are lined up, engines revving, and the crowd is buzzing with excitement. you sit in your car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. your palms are sweaty, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

eren and connie are in their modded out camaro beside you and you glance at them.they’re already looking your way, sizing you up. you can see the confidence in their eyes, and it only makes you more nervous. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

you can do this. just focus. you’ve got this.

you adjust your grip on the wheel and looks straight ahead. the signal lights start to count down, and you feels a surge of adrenaline. the moment the light turns green, you slam your foot on the gas pedal, your nerves transforming into determination.

the roar of the engines fills the air as the race begins. you can feel the car responding to your every move, and despite your initial nerves, a sense of exhilaration starts to take over.

“assholes.” you grumbled as eren caught up to your speed,connie rolling down the window with a smile.

“come on princess,put the pedal to the metal!” you could hear him laughing with eren and it only motivated you to go faster,your turbo engine was definitely working overtime as you flipped its switch,leaving the two of them in dust.

a smirk pulls across your lips.

in the distance, the finish line comes into view.

the checkered flag waves, signaling the end of the race. you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, every muscle tensed with determination.

almost there y/n. just little further. you do this.

the car speeds forward, you expertly navigating the last few turns. the crowd’s cheers grow louder, urging you on. you can see eren and connie on your ass through your rear view and one final burst of speed, your wheels crosses the finish line, the car roaring triumphantly as it passes under the checkered flag.

“yes!” you squeal out in excitement,hands smacking across the wheel.

you’ve done it. you’ve won.

you stepped out the car with a grin,cheers filling the air just for you.

eren and connie are second,annoyed look on their faces as they stepped out.

“well cupcake,congrats. how does it feel to be a cheater?” eren asks with furrowed brows.

“i-“ you start but you’re cut off by connie.

“excuse my bitter friend,congrats pretty. you did great.”

you smile sheepishly,looking down at your painted toes.

“thanks,connie.”

the moment is interrupted as aaliyah pulls you into a hug from behind,” this is my best bitch and none of yall better not not touch her! ahh, you did so fucking good. i feel like a proud mother.” she pretended to wipe fake tears from her face.

you giggled,”thanks liyah.”

“i think this is cause for celebration,drinks? on me.” connie offered.

aaliyah shifted her eyes to the two men, then at you,a smirk pulling on her lips.

“i have a date but i’m sure y/n would love to.” she nudged you.

you bit your lip as you switched your eyes from your friend to the guys,a breathy ‘sure’ falling from your lips.

you were gonna kill aaliyah.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

you found yourself tipsy on the plush white sofa, laughing as eren and connie shared their life stories. you learned that they both hailed from los angeles and, like you, developed a passion for cars during their upbringing.

you found yourself enjoying the experience much more than you had anticipated, and they appeared to have moved on from their disappointment about losing the race. unsure whether it was due to the alcohol or your prolonged lack of intimacy, you felt arousal stirring within you as pressure built in your vagina.

spotting that gleam in your eyes, eren strolled towards you.

“are you ready for the gift we have for you?" eren inquired, a playful sparkle in his eyes as he sipped on a glass of don julio.

in a state of confusion, you didn't realize they had purchased a gift for you. however, when connie gently took your hands and guided you to their bedroom from the sofa, you offered no resistance.

you found yourself sprawled on the vibrant red silk bed, feeling a wave of desire rise within you as they gazed down at you hungrily.

“are you guys gonna fuck me or sit there and look stupid?”

connie was the first person to move and then eren.

eren assisted in removing your shirt while connie focused on undressing your lower half.

the realization of what you were engaging in was almost unbelievable.

what were you thinking? oh,that's right, you weren't fucking thinking at all.

a soft moan escaped your lips as you felt eren’s lips on your neck, causing your head to tilt to the side in satisfaction. deep down, you had been yearning for his touch, and you were aware that he felt the same way. you joined in by helping them remove their clothes, carelessly tossing them aside.

as you took in their toned bodies adorned with tattoos, you could sense the anticipation building as their erections twitched.

“lie down, i want to taste you," rasped connie. your lip caught between your teeth as you complied, positioning your head at the edge of the bed. connie’s mouth watered as he spread your legs, revealing your shaved pussy. he noticed your arousal dripping out and couldn't resist swiping it up with his thumb, eliciting a small cry from you.

"you taste as sweet as you look."

your clit had swollen with arousal, pulsating with every touch. your eyes closed in pleasure as connie cupped your thighs and skillfully worked his tongue on your quivering pussy. he licked at an inhuman speed, leaving you moaning uncontrollably.

eren, who had been pleasuring himself at the sight, seized the opportunity to use your mouth while connie pleasured your pussy. a deep moan escaped eren’s lips as he slowly thrust his throbbing member into your warm mouth.

"fuck," eren whimpered as he moved his hips rhythmically in your mouth, "you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

overwhelmed with pleasure, you could only grip the sheets tightly, emitting a muffled moan as connie focused on your sensitive clit. you felt his hands holding your pussy open as he devoured you, and you were on the brink of screaming in ecstasy.

"such a gorgeous pussy," connie remarked between licks. eren had increased his pace as he thrust into your mouth, his testicles slapping against your face with each movement. you made sure to take a breath with each thrust.

eren’s thrusts intensified, causing your body to react with small whimpers and your pussy clenching tightly around him. each time he pushed into your mouth, he could see the indentation where his dick lay.

“taking all of me like a big girl, mama," eren groaned, using your breasts to leverage his movements and achieve a deeper angle. the wet sounds emanating from your throat as he rocked his hips were incredibly lewd, making his arousal even more intense as he heard you struggle to accommodate him.

tears welled in your eyes as eren continued to abuse your throat, while connie simultaneously pleasured your trembling pussy.

connie skillfully managed to insert two fingers into your tight cunt, while his other hand played with your clit, rubbing, slapping, and teasing the sensitive bud. the sensations were overwhelming, and you were grateful that eren had filled your mouth, preventing you from blurting out ‘i love you’ from the pleasure.

your body arched in bliss as connie delivered a sharp slap to your moist pussy. "you’re so wet, mmm. i’m goin’ to break you in," connie murmured, sliding three of his long digits into you.

gurgled moans escaped your lips as eren thrust his hips into your face, causing you to gag as his tip brushed against the back of your throat.

“ughhh, i’m about to nut.”

eren expressed his nearing climax, his words catching in his throat. despite the mess on your face, your focus remained on connie pleasuring your pussy and eren’s throbbing member in your mouth. with a final series of thrusts, eren climaxed, releasing warm spurts of cum into your mouth.

his eyes closed in pleasure as he felt your tongue working to collect every drop. as he withdrew from your mouth, you finally managed to voice your plea for connie to slow down, as he continued to finger you rapidly, the squelching noises echoing in his ears with each deep thrust.

“connie,please slow down," you pleaded as he drove his fingers quickly and deeply into your needy pussy. you could feel your slick cunt sucking on his fingers as you neared your high, tears streaked your face and your lips trembled with pleasure.

your pussy quivered around his fingers as your eyes rolled back in bliss. you almost snapped your legs closed as you felt him brush against your g-spot, arms pulling you down further onto him now that eren wasn’t occupying your face.

“i’m close, so close," you gasped as his fingers worked. you cried out as eren wrapped his pink lips around your raised nipples, his tongue flicking as your legs began to shake. you felt connie’s fingers pull out and his mouth munch back on your wet cunt, lapping you up hungrily.

your head fell to the side and your back arched involuntarily as a guttural moan escaped your lips, his tongue wildly flicking over your pussy now. with one more lick of your pussy, you screamed as your orgasm took over, connie locking you in place as he ate you through your orgasm.

eren was now knelt beside your face, cleaning it up as you shook in pleasure.

"mhm, let it out, baby," he whispered, talking you through your orgasm as connie ate you through it.

connie thoroughly cleaned you with his tongue, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around your thighs throughout. a series of moans escaped your lips as he persistently pleasured your sensitive clit. when he finally stopped, you let out a whimper.

"so fucking good," he huffed.

there was hardly any time for you to acclimate when eren lay on the bed and insisted that you straddle him. without hesitation, you complied, and he wasted no time in pulling you into a kiss.

your lips moved passionately over his soft pink ones, and your moans escaped into his mouth as you felt him grip your buttocks and part your cheeks. you could sense connie behind you,fluttering soft kisses on your back.

he was going to fuck you in the ass while eren fucked your pussy.

you trembled as you sensed the lubricant being applied to your anus.

“put me inside you pretty girl,”eren husked.

shaking with desire, you took hold of his shaft. his head was flushed and glistening with pre-cum, and you ran your thumb over it before taking it into your mouth. a mischievous smile spread across your face as eren whimpered. you positioned him at your entrance, your folds rubbing against his shaft, causing his leg to twitch slightly.

you let out a whimper as you sank down onto him, feeling his length and thickness stretching your sensitive pussy. a deep groan escaped him as he was enveloped by your tight pussy tensing around him from the intense stretching.

"so tight," he exhaled unsteadily.

connie surprised you by pushing into your backside before you could even react, causing a mixture of pain and surprise to escape as you both moaned.

the sensation of both of your openings being stretched caused your head to spin and your stomach to flutter. they remained still as they allowed you to adjust. eren’s lips returned to yours, kissing, sucking, and tugging, while connie planted gentle kisses on your back, sending a shiver down your spine.

“such a pretty ass,” connie murmured, his voice now dark,laced with lust.

“are you ready beautiful?” eren whispered into your ear, his green eyes locked onto yours as you nodded and squeezed your eyes shut.

as soon as they started thrusting, you felt the wind being knocked out of you. connie's gentle thrusts were soft yet deep, making you see stars. on the other hand, eren's rough hip movements against yours made you cry out in pleasure as he passionately took control.

“look at you, taking both of us like a slut,” eren gasped in pleasure,his tip hitting your walls making you mewl. his dirty talk made your stomach flutter,”tell me how you’re feeling baby,” he whispered,jaw clenched.

“i-feel,ah!”

your words caught in your throat as connie began picking up speed, balls slapping against your ass.he placed one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the small of your back,his thrust now matched eren’s,erratic and deep.

your toes curled in pleasure, tears welling in your eyes as they fucked you. each time they thrust their hips into you, both of your openings queefed, and you were too consumed by pleasure to care.connie's hand smacked your ass, you let out a cry, feeling the sting on your skin.

“don’t be rude pretty,tell eren how you feel,” he rasped.

“g-good!” you shuddered out.

connie's large hand delivered sharp smacks to your ass, eliciting cries from your lips with each strike. the stinging sensation on your skin made you anticipate bruising the next day as he continued to spank you. your head drifted forward in a state of euphoria, your arms trembling as you struggled to support yourself.

“sluts deserved to be spanked,” connie groaned out.

“you think we didn’t notice that look in your eyes, you’ve been waiting for this huh?” eren panted,hammering into you.

you struggled to find your voice, managing out a weak “y-yes.”

you were in disarray, tightly gripping the sheets with a clenched fist and an open mouth. connie and eren's intensity drove you to the brink. dry tear streaks marked your face, "you're so fucking sexy," connie grunted while vigorously moving against you, causing the bed frame to smack against the wall with a continuous bang.

eren's hand wrapped around your neck, making you suppress a moan. each powerful thrust of his hips engulfed you in ecstasy, and his tight grip made your head spin. you couldn't help but moan as you looked down at him, his eyebrows furrowed over his closed eyes, his face contorted in pleasure as he relentlessly made love to you.

you were certain he was going to suffocate you until you passed out, but just when you were on the brink, he released his hold.

“this pussy so good, you’re ours now” eren hissed.

you released a quivering breath as connie withdrew, leaving only his pulsating tip inside your anus. a cry escaped your lips as he thrust back in. you were a moaning, creaming wreck on connie's shaft, causing his head to fall back in ecstasy.

your tightness around him caused his legs to tremble beneath him as he spread your cheeks apart, greedily savoring the sight of you devouring his member.

“creamin’ on this dick so fucking hot.” connie mewled out,hands caressing your ass as he fucked you with dirty squelching noises.

eren complimented, "so fucking pretty," as he gazed at you. a light sweat kissed at your brown skin,eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, with your lip caught between your teeth as soft moans escaped. unable to resist, he gently sucked on your breast, causing your back to arch.

you body shook as eren prodded into your g-spot.

“a-ah eren,” you sobbed out, his hips drilling into that spot relentlessly.

“cum on this dick baby.”

eren persisted in striking at it until the tension in your stomach released, causing you to whimper as you climaxed on eren's member.he sensed his own climax nearing as your walls tightened around him, eliciting soft moans from his lips.

he inserted two fingers into your mouth and you eagerly complied, eliciting another moan from eren.

you were so sexy to him, and with a loud moan, he released hot bursts of cum inside you. he filled you completely, and you could feel him pulsating as his nut spilled out of you.

connie saw this as an opportunity to gently guide you onto your back, a soft cry escaping your lips as he entered your already filled pussy.

"connie, please go slower, i’m so sore," you whimpered.

"just a little longer, baby," he whispered, and you nodded in contentment. the sound of your filled pussy excited him, his hands intertwining with yours above your head as he kissed you passionately.

his tongue sought dominance as he kissed you eagerly, a moan escaping his lips as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you.

he grasped your thighs and pulled your legs above your head, causing you to cry out at the new angle. he looked incredibly sexy to you, his hazel eyes now dark brown, jaw clenched in pleasure as he moved rhythmically.

“please, it's too sensitive!" you gasped as eren reached over and teased your clit.

seeing your clit being pleasured like that made connie's stomach tighten, and he released warm cum inside you, mixing with eren's as he let out a breathy curse.

he pulled out and watched as their fluids dripped from you, your contracting pussy pushing out the thick sperm.

a shriek left your lips as the bed railing gave out.

“well, looks like we’re going bed shopping tomorrow.” eren noted.

what a night.

@ CINNN4MON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.DO NOT STEAL OR MODIFY. MWAH, BYE

masterlist🏎️

[writers-potion]

Hi! I would like to ask if you could possibly give any tips on how to properly manage to introduce characters ?

Techniques for Character Introduction

There are many things you can consider for an impactful character introduction:

The Point of View of your novel

Whether your character is a POV character or not

The tone of your novel

What your character is like

In-Medias-Res

Immediately show the character in the middle of action.

Character(s) come into the scene running, fighting, laughing - whatever it is.

Good for leaving an impression

Could be an in-medias-res hook in the very opening of your novel, to introduce the main character.

Choose an action that "defines" the character. Perhaps it's something they do repeatedly (going to the gym at 5am every morning) or that shows a key part of their personality (digging through a large pile of laundry because they cannot keep their room clean)

Dialogue - Voice First

The character makes a voice entrance before we "see" them physically appear.

It helps the readers define the relationship between the character being introduced and the character that we've been following.

From Dan Brown's <Digital Fortress>:

"David?" "It's Strathmore," the voice replied. Susan slumped. "Oh," She was unable to hide her disappointment. "Good afternoon, Commander." "Hoping for a younger man?" The voice chuckled. "No, sir," Susan said.

In these few lines, we already know (1) Strathmore is Susan's boss, (2) quite high-ranking in some military/governmental/secret agency (commander??) (3) is male (4) has a sense of humor (5) seems to be quite friendly with his employees, etc.

By using phone conversations, you can also show how the POV/main character truly feels about the character on the phone - there's no need to make appearances. Perhaps they frown, or attempt to throw their phone on the wall in frustration while the other talks.

Via Another Character

This is where characters in the story talk about the characters even before they are introduced.

Often used with villains/characters with popularity in the story world.

Example: "You've heard of Joe, of course."/ "I'm sorry, who?" /"The president of Book Club? Red hair, freckles?"

Simple Intro with direct characterization

Sometimes, just writing a brief description about the character can be effective, especially if you have some backstory that really, really need to be there before the readers start following the character.

Here's a passage from Leigh Bardugo's <The Familiar>:

"Dona Valentina had been raised by two cold, distracted parents who felt little towards her beyond a vague sense of disappointment in her tepid beauty and the unlikelihood that she would make a good match. She hadn't. Don Marius Ordono possessed a dwindling fortune..."

The key here: provide interesting detail. There's no fun in saying, "Dona Valentina wasn't too pretty, so she had to marry Don Marius Ordono with little wealth." An image of a girl neglected by her parents and bartered for wealth is much more captivating.

Slow & Mysterious Setup

This one is harder to execute than the others on this list, but when done properly, it can produce a beautiful effect where the readers know who you're talking about without you ever having to name them.

An excellent example of this is how Marcus Zusak introduces Death (with capital D, who's the narrator of the story):

"I could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. You will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables."

"Your soul will be in my arms." "I will carry you gently away."

Death continues to talk about his "job" like the above until it becomes enough for the reader to catch on.

Drop enough hints for your readers to recognize the character

Works best with an archetypal character - devil, vampire, demon, angels...some figure with distinct features that even when described mysteriously, will be noticeable.

Showing Attitude - For POV characters

Present a peculiar line of thought or show some attitude that makes the character immediately interesting.

This works wonderfully with POV characters - by giving the reader a crucial piece of the POV character's mindset to set the overall tone of the novel.

From Rick Riordan's <Percy Jackson and the Lightening Thief>:

"Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advise is: close this book right now."

Percy (the POV character) goes on a bit like this before we get his name, etc. in the subsequent section.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[writteninlunarlight-years]

How about the "there is only one bed" trope with our lovely Hazbin Boys; Alastor, Husk, Angel Dust, and Lucifer? <3

Scenarios

I made these two parts because I love all the Hazbin boys, and I am a sucker for this trope. I didn't add pentious because I am not confident writing for him. Val is well, Val. Pt1 Pt2

Adam

It was a fucking shit show trying to find an excellent place to stay on this side of heaven. The big man upstairs decides to pay a visit, and Adam just has to see him in person, as if he hadn't seen him twelve million times before. Originally Lute was going to go with him however a situation occurred with the exorcists, you personally think that is a lie but so be it. Being Lute's little sister and third in command over the executioners, you got the job of babysitting Adam.

It wasn't that you disliked Adam for any reason towards you; Lute made it very clear when you joined the battalion that you were off limits; he could flirt, sleep with, and kill anyone he wanted to. Just not her baby sister. So Adam never really got to hang around you much, probably cause he was so afraid of your older sister. However, unbeknownst to you, Adam had a thing for you; though he knew you were not some innocent flower by any means, he knew that touching the forbidden had its perks; I mean, hell, Eve did it.

Sighing, you found one hotel still with a vacant sign; you thought traveling with the first man meant you had ease of access everywhere fucking wrong. Still, you walked in and managed to book the room. The poor elderly angel, though, was so difficult to speak to; you were glad that you went in, not Adam; otherwise, he would have been a dick. Grabbing your bag and motioning him to follow you two heads up to the room. "Yeah, she said it was pretty big, I mean, it should be for two beds." Adam pouted, "Aw babe, you don't want to share a bed with me? Now is your chance to get in my pants while Lute is gone." You scoffed and opened the door to your hotel for the night. "Yeah no not only do I not wan't in your pants I also don't....wan't..........death......Fuck me."

Adam laughed and walked in behind you, "What? You just told me not to fuck you, babe can't be acting all coy with me." He finally looked up and saw why you stalled. He is so dead when they get home; he should have listened to Lute and booked a room in advance. You sighed and walked all the way in. There was a couch. At least you could take it. You were smaller.

Carefully, you started to make the couch into a makeshift bed. "Hey toots, no, none of that. You get the bed bitch. I am not going to be the first dick that made a woman sleep on a fucking couch."

You looked at him, surprised at the offer. You nodded your head and went to clean up for bed. As you slid into the sheets, you saw Adam in his PJs, trying to get comfy. You sighed softly and rolled over, trying to ignore him, yet something pulled at your heartstrings. Lute didn't have to know. You rolled back over and saw the uncomfortable man, "Um, hey, Adam, come get in bed with me." You could have worded that better, but you were tired. You managed to miss the blush on Adam's face as he heard you.

"Yeah, can't get enough of the dickmaster, huh," He dodged a pillow attack from you as he made his way over. Gently, he placed the pillow between you two and climbed in. Lute didn't have to know.

Come morning, no pillow was between you two, your head resting gently in the crook of his neck, his arm wrapped around your waist while his other above his head. You wrapped one arm around him while the other pulled to your chest. You both had slept through the numerous phone calls from Lute and the meeting with God. Adam didn't mind; you deserved the break, and it felt so nice to finally hold you close to him.

Alastor

Charlie sent you and Alastor on a mission to help gain more sinners. Why it had to be on the other side of Pentagram City near Vox's tower was beyond you. You loved Charlie like a sister, though, so you wouldn't fight, and you may have some underlying feelings for a Radio Host that may have swayed your decision to go along with him.

After a hard day of recruiting and passing out flyers, Alastor was some help. Seeing as all of Vox's cronies tried to fight you both on each street corner, it was finally time to call it a night. You were eagerly waiting for Charlie's call, looking at your phone; she was supposed to book your room for you guys out here. After the extermination, Alastor was still recovering, so his shadow teleports weren't the best idea, lest you both be stranded in the shadow realm.

Your phone finally rang to a cheerful Charlie on the other end. She directed you two to the hotel and asked you questions about the recruitment process. As you two talked, the hotel came into view; you sat off in the lobby, talking with Charlie about the hotel as Alastor got your room key. Soon, he stood before you and motioned you to follow. "Do tell Charlie that if she was going to talk to you all night on the phone, she should have been the one to come, not me." You pouted at that. Had Alastor had a bad time with you? That was far from the truth, though. Alastor had a great time showing off his impressive powers to you even though he was still injured, yet he was jealous that Charlie was taking all your time. "S-Sorry, Al. I think Charlie was just concerned. She wanted to make sure we got to the room safely." All you got in return was a slight hum and static. You sighed, and Charlie tried to cheer you up on the phone.

Alastor entered the room first and halted, eyes wide, "Fuck." You had only ever heard him cuss a handful of times, and without static, too, it must have been horrible. Yet, as you hear Charlie's slightly high-pitched laughter, you know she is up to something. Quickly, your phone was snatched from your hand, static buzzing. "CHARLIE WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING THERE IS ONLY ONE BED."

As Alastor yelled at her, you winced. Damn, was it that bad to be stuck with you? You pushed your way into the room and looked around. It was cozy, that was for sure, only one bed. As you finished, Alastor hovered over you, and you started to make a pallet on the floor to sleep on. "And what do you by chance think you are doing my little doe?"

You blushed at the pet name and shrugged. You made your way to the bathroom to change and take a quick shower, not wanting to ruin Alastor's night any more than you had. Once you were done and walking out, however, Alastor was in red PJs, and your pallet was gone. "Hey, where did my bed go, Al? I worked hard on that!"

Static buzzed softer as he sighed, "You are not sleeping on the floor, my dear. Now come get in bed. I made a pillow wall; it is safe."

He sounded sad about it, but you didn't want to trick yourself into thinking there was anything more between you two. You nodded softly and curled on your side, gently drifting to sleep. You could have sworn that as the dreams started coming, the pillow wall behind you disappeared.

Come morning, you were safely held against Alastor, your back against his firm chest, and one arm caged you protectively against him. His other arm lay under the pillow, probing his head up as he slept soundly, inhaling your scent. As for you, the blissfully unaware dreamer, your hands were cradled against you, and you slowly pushed yourself closer into the radiating warmth behind you. Alastor smiled a genuine smile softly; he could definitely get used to this for you.

Angel Dust

Val had sent Angel to a bad part of town for a shoot. You, being the caring, adoring friend you are, decided to go with him just to help make sure no fans or crazies attack him. You had gone to plenty of Angels shoots and even was propositioned by Val many times. Yet you always turned him down and showed your distaste for the moth. He always said that you would come around. How about not. Instead, you were in love with your best friend... cliche, but he was terrific.

Angel put on his robe and walked up to you. You had been spaced out watching the shoot, thinking about the handsome spider before you. As he snapped his fingers in front of your face, you finally reconnected with the world and looked up at him. "What? Sorry, Angel. What is going on?"

He laughs softly and helps you stand, your legs feeling like jelly from sitting on the sound box for hours. Falling into him, he laughed and helped you right again, a soft dusting of pink across his cheeks. "Ya fine toots, shoots ova' let's head out to the hotel."

You nodded, grabbed your bags, and followed him to the limo that would take you to the hotel. Val hadn't known you would come on this trip, but Val always had Vox book double rooms for the whole crew on far-off shoots. The only person who got a single room was Val himself. Sighing you looked out the window as the ritzy hotel came in to view. "20$ when Val sees me, he will ask me to go to his room again."

Angel laughed and shook his head, "Oh no, Val isn't here; this was an exclusive shoot for a customer. So it's just the cast and crew and you."

You blushed. How did you not notice Val wasn't there? You were so stupid. You followed the crew into the building, staying close to Angel as the key cards were passed out. Your room number was in the 9's; it was one of the lovely posh rooms. Okay, Vox, you did something good for a change. You rode the elevator up and talked with the others as they reached their floors. A comfortable silence filled the small space when it was just you and Angel.

At the ding, you two walked to the room, entering though you both found the problem....it was a sweetheart's room. This was Val's standard room. "Damn toots, there's only one bed. I will go ask for another room, don't worry,"

You grabbed his arm, not even thinking, "No, it's okay. It would come out of your pay, too. We have been best friends forever, Angel. We can share the bed." You gulped saliva building in your mouth. He gave you a soft smile and a nod.

"Alright, no funny business," he leaned down close to your ear. "Unless you want there to be." You scoffed and smacked his arm, heading to the bathroom first to clean up. Angel smirked; he was excited to finally have this chance. He got the bed situated to try and make it more comfortable for you.

As you exited, you thanked him for the consideration and let him shower and clean up. You got comfy on the bed and closed your eyes. You slowly drifted off to sleep, exhausted from all the running around. When Angel returned, he smiled softly and climbed into bed next to you. Gently, to not wake you, he placed his head on your chest, listening to your heart.

When morning came, Angel clung to you with both sets of arms, holding on to you, his head nuzzling your chest and neck. You had one arm protectively around him and the other in his hair. The rest of the crew left hours ago, but you two stayed tangled in the sheets, having a sweet, cuddly morning.

[ragingbookdragon]

Part of her duties required her to hear the calls of her people. Simon’s words rang true when many of her subjects blessed her at the foot of her throne and thanked her for the food and help she provided. Other times, she was forced to listen to the nobles and children of nobles boast and puff their chests like birds attracting a mate. One moment has stuck out to her when a group of rough looking men entered the hall and she felt a sickening feeling gather when she watched John and Kyle stand up straight from the windows they were leaning on; more so, when she felt Simon and Jonathan come to the left and right of her throne side and stand.

The leader, she assumed from the way he swaggered up to her throne, gave a showy bow. “Your Majesty,” he greeted with a disgusting tone and look in his eye. “It’s a pleasure to be in such a glorious and dignified hall.”

She ignored the desire to have them thrown out on their rears, and lifted her chin, replying calmly, “The pleasure is mine. Might I ask what you’ve come to me in request of?”

“Well,” he drawled out. “My men and I,” he gestured to the men behind him and then himself. “Have been doing an excellent job of keeping your border on the west end clean of ruffians and bandits.”

“I wasn’t aware I had commissioned a new squad of knights,” she answered, arching an elegant brow on her forehead. “Might I ask who your captain is?”

The man’s chuckle was anything but amusing. “Oh, we’re not knights. We’re simply concerned...citizens.”

“Ah, I suspect I shall see more armed citizens soon, then?”

“Perhaps,” he smiled. “My Lady.”

“So, what do you require of me?”

He took another step up but stopped when Kyle and John appeared and held out their arms, effectively blocking him. “Quite the group of knights you command, Your Majesty.”

“They are,” she affirmed. “What do you want from my kingdom? Gold? Land? Titles?”

“Well, if we are going to continue to protect the border, we’d like to know it’s going to be repaid.”

“I’ve never heard of your group before. Why would I repay such?”

“We are good. Better than even your knights.”

She hummed low and waved a hand; a young woman appeared with a golden cup and a pitcher, and she took the wine goblet. “Thank you, Laeneris.”

“Your Majesty,” the woman bowed and stepped down with the pitcher.

“I will offer amnesty, but I will send my own knights to see how you protect my kingdom. You will fight for my kingdom and my people. You will fight for me.” She took a sip of her wine. “I will give you one day to decide.” Waving a hand, she said to a man in the side hall, “Amnie, a few rooms in the inn in town for our…guests.”

The leader gazed at her as the men behind him laughed and cheered with one another; he regarded her with a curious and lewd expression. “Show me your cunt. I want to see if it’s worth fighting for.”

Simon was already drawing his long sword and down a half step when she simply raised a finger. “You are in my throne room. In my castle. And are going to be staying in my inn. You do well to remember as such.” She looked behind his men. “You have a decision to make, and I have more subjects to hear.”

He smirked and nodded his head. “Of course, Your Majesty. I thank you for your hospitality.” He turned and walked past Laeneris, pausing to slap her rear hard; she jumped and made a face as he muttered, “I’ll find you tomorrow evening.”

As they walked off, she leaned back in her throne. “Ser Simon?” she narrowed her gaze on the man’s back. “When you meet them on the border…kill that one first.”

Simon’s gaze darkened behind the visor as he sheathed his sword, and he assured, “Gladly, Your Grace.”

[siren-141]

part two to this angsty beauty - enjoy 🖤

Your head pounded when you woke up, sunlight filtering through the curtains in your shared bedroom. Well, in your bedroom now. Who knows if you’d even be able to keep the apartment – would he want to stay here or would you? He said he’d be here today to pick up his things, so maybe he was letting you keep it. Maybe you’d surprise him with an empty apartment when he came to collect his things, and you’d be long gone.

Gone, that’s where you wished you could go. What did that even mean..?

It didn’t matter.

You got up and cleaned your face, throwing on some workout clothes and stepping out into the cold air. It was winter in New York City, and everyone else was bundled up with long coats and scarves, boots and their fuzzy socks peeking up at the top. You walked the five miles to the Avengers tower in some leggings, running shoes, and a light hoodie, not even bothering to put the hood on.

You slipped into the meeting just as it was starting, taking a spot next to Natasha this time instead of your usual one. There was an empty chair next to your ex-fiancé, everyone taking notice of it but not mentioning it more than a quiet glance amongst each other. Bucky listened with intent as if nothing had happened – you stared at the small scratch in the glass table until your eyes went fuzzy.

“I know we just finished one mission up – seriously, great job, you two-” he gestured to you and Bucky. Clearly not reading the room, he continued. “Truly a dream team, you two work great together.”

You could hear Bucky huff out a sarcastic laugh and you just rolled your eyes. How he had the audacity to sit there and act like he hadn’t just shattered your entire world last night, you would never know. It’s always been fucking hard to be with you. His harsh voice rang in your ears, flashbacks from last night hitting you like a train.

“Tony, could you..?” Natasha motioned for Tony to continue with his agenda and stop lingering.

“Right.” His voice was drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears, and you could barely hear what he was saying anymore, starting to zone out again.

Natasha nudged you, and everything came back into focus.

“Solo mission, Canada. Rumlow’s back.” She whispered it over to you as indiscreetly as possible, the details that Tony had just gone over, but without all of his theatrics.

You looked over at her. Rumlow? You mouthed. She nodded her head grimly.

“I can do it. I have the most experience dealing with him-” Bucky piped up finally, acting as some sort of martyr.

“I’ll go.”

All heads turn to you, finally having spoken up and looked up from the scratch on the table.

“Are you out of your mind?” Bucky’s words sliced through the silence. You locked eyes with him and there was nothing but fury and heartbreak in yours. You could see where his hands were in fists below the table, balled up and trying to keep his composure.

You looked at Tony. “I’ll go. Rumlow doesn’t know me. Even if he had files on each of us, you know mine is sealed. I’ve only been on covert missions that didn’t deal with the public-”

“Tony, you can’t let her go on this mission!” Bucky tried to speak over you. You could tell he was getting mad.

“-and because of that, my identity has never been known. To him, I’m just a random girl. Send me. I’ll get it done.”

It was silent in the room, and you could cut the tension with a knife. But Tony had made up his mind.

“Those are all…excellent points. Meet me in 20 in my office and we’ll go over it. You leave tomorrow.”

You closed your eyes, a feeling of relief washing over you. The meeting ended and you got up to leave, managing to round the corner before you felt a grip on your arm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“You can’t go on that mission alone, he will kill you,” Bucky said through his gritted teeth. You tried to keep walking but his grasp on your arm was too strong. You knew you could never overpower him. “I’m going instead.”

“You know what you can fucking do-” you turned around in his arms and managed to shake out of his hold. By this time, the people who were left after the meeting were all silent and watching. You barely took note of them as you felt your vision cloud with rage.

“Hey, guys-” Steve tried to step in, tapping Bucky on the shoulder. It was no use. Your eyes brimmed with tears of rage.

“No, you go back to wherever the fuck you went last night and leave me ALONE!” you yelled at him, whipping around and starting to storm off. Before you got too far though, you turned back around and threw your engagement ring at his feet and let it clatter around the tile floors for everyone to see. “Sorry if I’m too hard for you to deal with right now, but I’m going on that mission alone and I hope that when I’m done, I can fucking stay up there away from you.”

He watched as you walked down the hallway and turned into Tony’s office, the door shutting behind you. He stood there in silence, the audience behind him in utter shock. They all began to dissipate, going in their own directions, until it was just him left.

I'll probably turn this into a multi-part fic, what do y'all think? part 3

[inklore]

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good. 

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses. 

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another. 

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach. 

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days. 

A girl can dream. 

And she has. Embarrassingly. 

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God. 

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity. 

Gratefulness. 

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you? 

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings. 

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel. 

He was always there. 

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time. 

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before. 

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks. 

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over. 

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped." 

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone." 

"Hey! I could punch someone." 

"Could and would are two different things." 

"You sayin I couldn’t?" 

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t." 

"Not tough enough?" 

"Your heart's too big." 

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured." 

"I’m shaking in my boots." 

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn.  On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?" 

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch." 

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?" 

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel." 

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?" 

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out. 

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red. 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully. 

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts. 

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll. 

"Don’t alert the press." 

"Oh, they’ve already been informed." 

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky. 

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting. 

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink. 

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight." 

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him. 

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin. 

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money." 

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be. 

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say. 

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had. 

Joel Miller was a good man. 

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know. 

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma. 

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind. 

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good." 

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle. 

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke. 

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks. 

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now. 

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?" 

"A what—pity kiss?" 

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?" 

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?" 

"Exactly." 

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. 

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate. 

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement. 

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks. 

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his. 

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders. 

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one. 

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him. 

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you. 

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl. 

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers. 

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now. 

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can. 

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth. 

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs. 

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence. 

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked. 

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?" 

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously."  There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken. 

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up. 

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes. 

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging. 

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth. 

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center. 

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection. 

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you." 

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are." 

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises. 

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag. 

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back. 

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight. 

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel. 

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock. 

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after. 

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though." 

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully. 

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (1)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4.3k

— 🍄 summary: hired to look into the mysterious deaths, disappearances, and disturbances in the small town of Farrow's End, you soon meet a certain gang of oddballs who help you connect the dots. and NO, you are NOT taking a liking to them.

— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader, cozy small town mystery/addams family vibes, botanist!yoongi, magical absurdity, bookshop owner!namjoon, barista!jin

— 🕸️ a/n: first chapter! directly influenced by this fic on ao3 by tinyratthief, which is loosely based on the addams family.

series m.list/schedule → next chapter

chpt. 1: new digs

september 16, 2004

If this job has taught you one thing, it’s that the laws of truth can and will be bent by anyone with enough concentrated effort. People come to you to find very specific truths; birth parents, cheating spouses, the details of shady business deals.

But if this job has taught you one thing, it's that the truth will also reveal itself to anyone with enough concentrated effort.

Though, there's always a handful of cases that force you to delve deep into things you’d rather leave buried. Like the person in Oregon who didn't show up in any photographs. Or the small town in Maryland with the strange, centuries-old secret society.

You’ve seen sides of human nature that have left you cynical, distrusting. Some have called you “dead inside,” but you’re not here to brag. Naturally, you are excellent at your job.

And when the Mayor of Farrow’s End, a sleepy town with enough missing persons cases to warrant a Netflix documentary, contacted you about a possible case, you accepted almost instantly.

Even her first correspondence and initial offer were strange. She stated a preference to discuss the finer details in person and in person only, which to you immediately suggested that the entire investigation would be a matter of confidentiality.

You were proven right when you met with her a week later. And while being proven right is usually one of your favorite things, you didn’t exactly expect this.

The offer: investigative services regarding (but not limited to) local missing persons/homicides, ecological disturbances, environmental chemical imbalances. etc.

In exchange for: monthly salary, rent support, covered business expenses.

And above all, everything must remain off the books.

The salary along with the rent support is very generous considering what you're used to, but you don’t tell the Mayor that. You do inform her that, while you wear many hats, you are not an ecologist, nor a chemist.

Mayor Summerbee, a middle-aged Asian woman with a sweet smile and even warmer eyes, informs you that you will have access to the local University’s college of natural sciences. She gives you the contact information for one Min Yoongi, a botanist who works in the school's research department.

Then she gives you the contact information for one Kim Taehyung, the town coroner and pathologist. Apparently, both of them will be available for consultation.

She is eager, maybe even desperate, smiling at you with an urgent sheen in her eyes.

When you accept her offer, shaking her hand with your usual firm grip, she seems to exhale in relief.

You move to Farrow’s End by the end of the week. It’s not as if you have much to move, just a trunkful of books and a handful of duffel bags. You’ve always moved around for work, and even if you didn’t, staying in one place for too long makes you nervous.

Your bags hit the pavement beside your boots as you survey your new home. It's a small, quaint house. The paint is faded but the architectural structure is sturdy. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, living room. The whole place is in a slight state of disrepair, but you can't complain.

You spend the next day cleaning and unpacking, which doesn't take long since you leave most of your books in the trunk. You're exploring the town by the end of the afternoon.

The town square, though full of shops and businesses, is nearly barren. A few civilians putter around, their faces weathered and reflective of the gloom in the air. They stare at you as you pass by, a cocktail of curiosity and slight suspicion.

The next thing you notice is the posters. They're everywhere, on the crumbling brick walls, stuck on lampposts, taped to the windows, all displaying a variety of subjects. Events at the University, local night markets, antiques for sale.

But there are a few that stick out. THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE LAKE! Sign the petition to restrict land access →

HAVING STRANGE DREAMS? You're not alone, contact a psychic today!

BEWARE! DO NOT FEED LOCAL WILDLIFE.

Though, what's more strange to you is what you don't see. There are barely any missing person posters, and the few that you do see appear to have been ripped away.

Work begins now, you think to yourself as you snap some photos of several posters, flapping in the cold wind.

You pop into the general store to pick up some essentials, and the store clerk immediately recognizes that you're not a local.

He asks where you're from, you reply with the standard answer: a city not too far but not too close. He asks what you're doing here, you reply with the standard answer: you're a journalist. You add in the suggestion that you're working with the University about a story, and he doesn't question any further.

You're not sure if it's because he takes the hint or because he loses interest.

During the drive home, you notice something looming in the distance. Atop the highest hill is a dark house, with spires and towers rising from the tops of spindly trees. Even from here, you can see that the architecture is old and ornate, almost ancient in a hypnotic way. You're fairly certain you can see a murder of crows circling above.

An unusual feeling hangs around the house, like there's some kind of aura surrounding it. Welcoming some, yet blocking others.

Very strange indeed.

You spend the rest of the night huddled next to the fireplace, using the flickering orange light to skim over newspaper clippings.

No, the house does not have a heating system. But you don't mind too much, you have plenty of wood and warm clothes.

Five missing and three dead in the last year. Local law enforcement has done everything they could with what they had to work with, which apparently wasn't much. Scattered locations, no visible connection between the victims, and an alarming lack of evidence.

Eyelids heavy, you leave the papers scattered across the floor and head to bed, already looking forward to tomorrow's first coffee.

september 17, 2004

The University appears to be just as old as the rest of the town. Original wood, aged stone, curved iron accents. The brick walkway is slick with morning rain, and the sky is swirling with fog.

Perfect weather, it makes you ready to get to work.

The directory stated that Min Yoongi would be in Montgomery Hall, the natural sciences building, either in the greenhouse or in one of the labs, according to the TA you talked to earlier on the phone.

It takes some wandering, but what you like about this place is that people don't seem to notice your presence as much as they do in town. Out there, you're an easily identifiable outsider. Here, you're just another passerby with a purpose.

You find him in one of the lab rooms, tucked into a little nook that's encased with plastic sheeting, dotted with beads of moisture. The small space is crowded with greenery, big pots of tall plants with fanning leaves, draping vines from wall planters, seedlings in little trays.

Through the condensation dripping down the plastic walls, you can see that he's spraying the plants down with water, wearing a classic white coat.

You're indulging in your bad habit again. Your footsteps are notoriously quiet (you've been told), and you (apparently) have a tendency to sneak up on people and observe them for several minutes before they notice that you are there.

But it's a skill you delight in.

The man is of average height, thin, black hair, delicate features. You notice that the soles of his boots are caked with mud, and his skin is dewy from the humidifiers pumping moisture into the room.

"You already know my opinion on this," you hear him say, muffled by the spray of the water.

For a moment, you think he's talking to you, that he's rejecting your case before you've even presented it to him. But he isn't facing you, and his tone is decidedly casual, like he's talking to an old friend.

"It's bad for the others, anyway," he continues. "Don't wiggle your trigger hairs at me like that."

A pause, the water flow stops. Then a sigh of defeat.

"Fine, one puff. Then you quit pouting, got it?"

There's the sound of shuffling, then the fwick of a lighter being ignited.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step forward to peer through the slit in the plastic sheeting.

There's a Venus fly trap on one of the shelves, and between the jaws of one of the trap mouths, is a lit cigarette.

The man's head piques up when you enter his field of vision. Eyes widening, he looks like a cat that's been caught off guard.

He looks between you and the plant several times. You're fairly certain you see the tip of the cigarette glow ember, as if the plant were actually inhaling.

The man snatches the cigarette away and crushes it beneath the wet sole of his boot.

"Nasty habit," he finally says with a nervous chuckle. An awkward, straight-mouthed smile crosses his face, making his cheeks puff out slightly.

"Min Yoongi?" you ask.

"Yes, ma'am," he responds politely.

"I'm ______," you say, holding out a hand to shake.

He shuffles forward, his cold slim fingers meeting yours.

"Ah, the mayor mentioned that you'd be around."

That throws you a bit, because from what you've gathered about this case, you assumed that the mayor didn't want to be associated with it.

"Yes, would you mind filling me in on some of the ecological disturbances that have been going on in town?"

It's as if the question sends ants crawling down his spine. His neutral smile dissipates into an anxious twitch of his lips. He turns the hose back on and resumes spritzing the plants.

"What do you want to know?" he asks, a new tension in his voice.

Odd.

"Well," you start, "The mayor tells me that locals have been complaining about strange mushrooms invading their yards, increased acidity in their soil. Would you know anything about that?"

His eyebrows are knitted as he dampens the leaves of a spiraling fern.

"Mushrooms are really just the fruit of fungi, they bloom like flowers when the conditions are just right. Moisture, shade, an abundance of organic material, stuff like that. When it comes to the acidity, there's a variety of factors. All the rainfall recently leads to leaching, and the increased use of fertilizers causes nitrification. It's pretty standard."

You raise an eyebrow. He's deflecting.

"People have been saying that these mushrooms have been particularly hard to get rid of."

Yoongi 's brows furrow as if he's thinking hard.

"Fungi are tricky like that. We don't know much about them, really. They're their own class of life form. It could be a particularly stubborn strain."

"There's also been some unusual plant growth, creeping vines or the like. Very resistant to herbicides, apparently."

He pauses, considers it.

"Hmm," he mutters, the nozzle of the hose going lax in his hand.

“Also,” you continue, trying to further engage his curiosity. “There's been several cases of strange root rot?”

You add a questioning tone to your voice, gauging his reaction. Apparently, he hasn’t heard about it, because he looks up at you with the same question in his eyes.

“Root rot? In household plants?” he asks.

“No, in residencies.”

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, and you can tell he’s intrigued.

“I would benefit a lot from your knowledge, if I could just bring you a few samples, maybe go out and do some fieldwork—”

“You wouldn’t like working with me,” Yoongi interrupts. “I’m very…particular.”

You have a feeling the word is meant as a substitute for something else.

“Wonderful, so am I,” you reply, digging one of the many notebooks out of your bag. Flipping to the calendar, you click open your open your pen and start scribbling.

“Mornings are best, get the most out of the daylight. Make sure to bring your equipment and something to write on, and a camera if you have one.”

“Wait, I just don’t know if I’m going to be much use to you,” Yoongi says a little nervously, sticking his hands in his pockets.

You pause your scribbling to look at him. He’s pale in the fluorescent light, but not just physically. He has pale mannerisms and pale expressions, the countenance of a person that doesn’t feel as if they belong.

You know the feeling well.

“Coffee is always on me. How do you like it?” you say instead.

“Does Wednesday work?”

september 18, 2004

Three dead and five missing in less than six months. First, Michael Bradley, aged forty-two. Cause of death: chronic poisoning/exposure to toxic chemicals. He was found in his garage surrounded by household cleaners and herbicides. Apparently he’d been trying to get rid of the same strange mushrooms in his yard.

For now, all you have to work with is what they’ve published in the newspapers, and it seems that all that's come out of it is a public service announcement warning homeowners to be careful around toxic chemicals. His wife, Mary Bradley, hasn't commented on the circumstances of her husband’s death. And no one else has inquired any further into the matter.

Until today, obviously. Mrs. Bradley didn't answer her phone, and when you knocked on her door earlier this morning, she seemed less than pleased.

You opened with the standard introduction: I'm a journalist working on a story, would you mind consenting to an interview? Mrs. Bradley narrowed her eyes and scanned you up and down with barely concealed suspicion.

She asked what a journalist would find interesting about a common, accidental death in a small town. Apparently, the citizens of Farrow's End are very perceptive to outsiders.

You mentioned that fact that although Bradley's death appeared accidental, it's not common for people to die at the hands of household chemicals from prolonged exposure. Chronic poisoning is rarely without symptoms, why didn't he go to hospital?

She didn't have anything to say to that. You asked if she'd be comfortable divulging some of the details of his death, maybe even giving you access to the autopsy report. But she just grimaced at the mention, insisting that she had nothing to say about the matter and that you should leave right away.

She slammed the door in your face, but luckily it wasn't the first time people have resisted your questions. Unfortunately, a significant part of your job involves being a pain in the ass.

You linger in the front yard, where it's impossible not to notice the gnarled tree stumps and large rings of mushrooms scattered across the lawn.

You're not a mycologist by any means, but even you can tell that these mushrooms are strange. They seem to be multicolored, red and orange and brown, changing depending on the light like a hologram, but without any of the shine. They aren't bulb-shaped like many other mushrooms, but twist in tendrils this way and that, stretching.

And a smell hangs about them. You can't really describe it, something like damp and musk and old meat. Standing there, breathing them in, for too long makes your head spin.

And the trees, or rather, what's left of them. Nothing but stumps now, but you can tell that they were old when they were cut down. There's that same multi-colored effect to them, except it runs in veins throughout the tree's bark, spiraling into the rings.

You'll have to ask Yoongi about it.

Curiosity nips at you like a non-venomous snake even after you're home. It's not deadly, but it sure as hell is annoying.

What kind of disease infects fungi and trees? Why would the mayor care about privately investigating such a thing? And a thousand other questions.

You shove your boots on and enter back into the chill. You remember seeing a bookstore in town.

The Magic Shop: Books and Oddities

The front window glows with warm light, crowded with displayed volumes and curiosities (a stuffed raven, a jar of yellowing teeth, insects encased in amber).

The door swings open with the ring of a bell. Someone calls out "Welcome in," in a deep-velvet voice.

The smell of parchment and aged leather envelopes you like a familiar hug. You can't help pausing in the doorway and inhaling deeply. No matter what city you're in, places like this always feel like home.

It's everything that a bookstore should be: crowded, mysterious, and slightly dusty. The shelves are tightly grouped and arranged like a labyrinth few are privy to, and stacks—no, towers—of books occupy every corner.

You enter into the space, feet padding on the braided rugs, eyes drinking in the details. There are labels on the shelves, haphazardly spaced. They start normal enough: gardening, self-help, adventure.

But then you realize that they branch off into even more labels, or rather sub-labels. There's nocturnal gardening, gardening under the influence, Faerie gardens and goblin gardens. Each labeled sub-genre branches into even more specific sub-categories, creating a seemingly endless array of subjects.

You could explore this place for hours. In fact, you intend to over the course of your stay in Farrow's End.

You spend an indeterminate amount of time exploring all the labels and categories. The shelves twist this way and that, creating little nooks where the occasional armchair is tucked into.

Eventually, you come to a more open area with a wide-sprawling desk. The man sitting behind it is tall and tan, glasses perched on his nose, with short chestnut hair that shifts golden in the candlelight.

He's deeply focused on the book in his hands: A Comprehensive Guide to Navigating Parallel Universes and Pocket Dimensions.

Typically, you hate to bother people in a bookstore, especially if they're already reading. It's supposed to be a space for quiet reflection, for self-exploration and uninterrupted browsing. But you still have a job to do, and it's clear that you won't be able to navigate the complicated system yourself. At least, not in a concise period of time.

So you square your shoulders and prepare yourself to address the (handsome, you notice) man at the counter.

"Excuse me," you begin in a hushed voice.

The man's head whips up, as if he completely forgot there was another person here.

"Yes?" He says in that same deep voice, friendly and eager. "Do you need help finding something?" It sounds like he can't quite believe the fact. This place must not get many customers.

"Yes, if you don't mind."

His face lights up as if nothing would delight him more.

"Do you have anything on unusual mushrooms?" you ask.

The man sets down his book and slips out from behind the desk. "Hmm..." he mumbles to himself, expertly weaving between the shelves while you hurry to catch up.

"Let's see here..." he says, passing a wall draped with vines from a hanging planter, like the ones in Yoongi's lab, you notice.

"Fungi," he mutters, fingertips ghosting over the shelves. The sections under Fungi are vast and wide-ranging. Poisons & Antidotes, Moss & Lichens, Carnivorous, Aberrations.

He pauses at that last one, eyes flitting between the volumes.

"Anything specific?" he asks.

You debate on how much to disclose, but with the several cases of strange fungi in people's yards, it's probably common small town knowledge by now.

"Anything about an unusual fungus with...tendrils?" You can't help the hesitation, you're not sure if it's a common feature among mushrooms.

Apparently, it's not as unusual as you thought, because the man only nods and shifts his attention to one of the lower shelves. His slim fingers finally land on an old cloth-bound book with a red toadstool on the spine. There's no title on the cover, but the man seems to be familiar with it.

"Here you go," he says, handing it to you. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in this one."

He says it with the confidence of someone who's read every book in the building front to back. A very specific part of your brain tells you that this fact is almost certainly true.

"Thank you very much," you say, turning the book over in your hands.

"My pleasure," he replies, and means it.

"How much?"

He guides you back to the counter and rings it up for a very good price.

You're itching to ask questions, but you're not sure where to start.

The man places the book into a brown paper bag printed with Magic Shop Books and Oddities and hands it to you with a warm smile.

You lose your nerve and take the bag in silence. Then, as if he could smell the fragmented thoughts darting around in your skull, he says, "Be careful in the woods."

You look at him. There's the same friendly smile, but now with a hint of good-natured curiosity.

"If you're going mushroom hunting, I mean," he adds.

You stare at him for perhaps too long.

"Thanks," you say, dropping a generous tip into the jar next to the register.

"Hope to see you again," he calls out as you exit through the front door.

A moth to flame, bees to honey. Insert: you to coffee shops with perfect ambient lighting. You spot it just as you're leaving the narrow alley that leads to the bookshop.

Turning the corner onto a cobblestone walkway, you catch sight of the cafe windows, slick with the recent rain. But from what you can see through the glass, it looks like a warm, cozy place.

Glancing at the front door, you notice an OPEN sign, even though it's quite late. You're opening the door and stepping inside before you're even conscious of it.

The interior reflects the same aged aesthetic as the exterior, dark wood and brick and brass accents. But the kitchen area houses clean chrome appliances, and there are shelves stacked with white dishes behind them. Golden light warms a glass case fully stocked with a manner of pastries, breads, and other nibbles, all of which still seem to be steaming hot.

You immediately decide that you like this place.

"Good evening," a pleasant voice calls, though you can't yet identify the speaker.

The smell of steam and freshly-ground coffee beans becomes richer as you approach the counter. You can hear someone puttering around in the back room.

You glance at the menu's wide selection, and when you look back at the counter, a man is standing right in front of you.

You don't scare easily, but it's enough to make you jump a little.

"What can I get you?" the man asks cheerfully. He's tall and slim, wearing a white button-up and black slacks under an apron. Brown hair, dark eyes, and a full smiling mouth.

You order a coffee and a pastry.

"What time do you close?" you ask, wanting to sit down and enjoy the atmosphere but also not wanting to be the asshole that settles in just before closing.

"On Wednesdays we close at noon, otherwise we're open twenty-four hours," he replies, sounding delighted by rather than annoyed by the fact.

A twenty-four hour coffee shop? You really like this place.

He must see your eyebrows raise in surprise, because then he proudly adds, "Only one in town."

Pleasantly surprised, you look around the shop to assess the seating options. There are booths tucked along the walls, a few tables and chairs, and a few plush-looking armchairs near the windows.

"Please, have a seat and make yourself at home. I enjoy the company," the man says as he makes your drink.

You take him up on it, settling into one of the chairs by the frosted glass of the window. It's then that you take a closer look at the book the shop owner recommended.

A fraying cloth-bound cover, a red toadstool instead of a title. Inside, a table of contents. First, a bit of basic mycology, which you greatly benefit from. Immediately after, a range of mutations, circumstances, and environmental factors that caused the direct disturbance to said mycology.

You get lost in it quite easily, sipping your drink (which is expertly brewed) and nibbling your pastry (which is almost too delicious for words). You know that you'll be spending a considerable amount of time here throughout your stay in Farrow's End.

The book cites several case studies, all suggesting that a new strain of fungus is not only spreading rapidly, but infecting all other strains it has access to.

You read on, only momentarily distracted by the occasional customers that enter into the establishment. Like the group of students, most likely from the University, who order a large batch of espresso to-go. Or the old man who orders a sandwich and black coffee and sits outside despite the late-night chill.

You don't realize it, but you read on until the early morning. The first few faint, pale rays of sunlight stretch across your current page through the window, and you jerk to attention when you realize what time it is.

Not that you have somewhere in particular to be today. But you've always liked to get a jump on things early on in the investigation. And you have better luck getting interviews during the day.

You had no idea that time was passing so quickly. This place seems to have an air of particular tranquility, the kind that only a handful of coffee shops are able to achieve. It's the feeling of finding a quiet place after being overstimulated for hours.

You take your dishes to the counter, drop a tip into the jar, and step into the morning chill.

Exhaustion sets in on the journey home, and you crash moments after your head hits the pillow.

The dreams start that night.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! love to hear any of ur thoughts 👉👈

next chapter

[first-edition]

idk if this it's a good request but I've always loved Sandor/handmaid readers fics!

It could be that reader has a crush on him, so she leaves him little gifts or do favors for him in secret, like a secret admirer type of thing<3 or you can write the other way around too! The hound having a crush on reader, it all depends on you

Love your writing btw😭 so excited for Fox and the Hound next chapters💗

OF course that is sooo cute! Im so happy you like the book so far there will a ton more of exciting and sad events to happen!!

Cw- reader has hair that can be moved out of the way, fluff, Cersei is abusive when drunk, Sandor being adorable. Sandor x hand maid reader.

Little Gift

The first time you laid eyes on the big brute of a man you fell in love. All the other handmaids were terrified of him, they hid when he walked down the halls, talked about how scary he was, and purposefully avoided him when doing daily duties, oftentimes leaving them up to you for more work. But you never minded, seeing sandor was the highlight of your day and little did you know it was his as well. 

You grew up in the palace, not as the grand princess type but as a maiden to said princesses, your mother was handmaiden to queen cersi and she taught you her ways to excel at it. Which you did. You learned how to clean a certain way on certain fabrics, you learned to cook and most importantly obey. All that time you spend learning about and admiring one person in particular. Ser Sandor Clegane. The king's guard dog, the hound, no matter what frugal name they called him he would always be sandor to you. 

Because all the other women were terrified their jobs for him were left to you. Sorting out his linens mostly as you weren't allowed in the light quarters but you made due. When you went to collect or bring them back you began leaving extras. Coin, treats from the kitchen, sometimes flowers. You've seen him throw them away sometimes but at least he noticed them. You knew that there could never be any chance with the rugged man due to his past and forceful nature but a girl can dream after all. 

You follow in the courtyard over seeing the princess Marcella talking with a sutor. You walk a hefty pace behind however not far enough to lose sight or mishear if false intentions on his part became at hand and you needed to step in. They stop their walk so you do as well making sure to give a settled amount of privacy, a group of knights in training most likely by the uniform pass you by one of them subjecting them to speak with you. 

“Excuse me ser.” you reply as you try to form a way around the larger man to continue to chaperone the princess and her caller. 

“Come on love, take the day off the little princess will be fine eh. Come and drink with us. Training is almost over.” he chuckles. Two of his friends then join into the new found joke. One of them takes a hold of the necklace you wear. 

“This is a fine thing for a maid to be wearing isn't it? Little Jewels and all. You steal it?” he huffs. 

“N-no it was my mothers! Now excuse me.” you say harshly before trying to break away. The men begin to banter, grabbing at you. 

“OI!” you hear a deep grumbly voice the men let go of you dispersing back as sandor comes into view. 

“Didnt you fucking hear her. Fuck off or i’ll use your guts as a jump rope.” he barks out at them. They hurriedly run off with the others disappearing around the corner. You look up at him about to say thank you but he simply leans down, taking a knee before standing back up, your necklace in his hand, broken from all the tussle. 

“No…” you say your heart clenching, you take it in your hands seeing the snapped chain and now misaligned holder for the jewel. 

“Y/n!” you hear marcella call to you as she takes your arm in her hand, a worried look on her face you look at her showing her your necklace. 

“Are you alright?” she asks from the commotion happening a bit ago. You nod yet still sad about the jewelry. She nods in thanks to sandor before you both head off now done for the day with her line up of men. You want to turn back and say thank you to the larger knight but before you can even open your mouth he’s farther off walking away. 

Your work continues as normal, cleaning, taking care of marcella and leaving small things for sandor. You walk to the side of the knight's quarters catching a glimpse of something that makes you double take a small vase that holds the flower you placed for him. A smile forms on your lips before you turn to walk off only to be met with the front of the very man you were smitten about. 

“My apologies, my lord, I didn't see you there.” you say gasping. He hums before walking around you but before he disappears you speak. 

“I wanted to thank you!” you exclaim. He stops his back to you briefly before turning around. 

“For?” he asks confused as to why. 

“For protecting me from the other knights, you were very brave.” you speak. He chuckles in a way that slightly puts you down. 

“Brave? A dog doesn't need courage to chase off rats. Those measly cunts aren't even knights let alone are ever gonna be.” he speaks. 

“You shouldn't do that, call yourself a dog.” you say softly looking up to him as he walks closer to you. 

“You're not a dog, you're a man.” you say. He huffs. 

“I don't scare you, do i?” he asks, kind of annoyed. You shake your head no before answering. 

“Why would you?” you ask to look up to him. 

“Hmm.” he grumbles before looking to his waist where he keeps his sword belt and others. He flips open the small saddle bag reaching into it and pulling out a necklace, your necklace, but it's fixed. 

A small happy gasp leaves your lips and a smile is placed on your face as you see the piece of jewelry. 

“Turn ‘round.” he says, seeing your arms are full with cloth. You do so at his command you feel his hand pulling your hair away before the cool metal is placed against your skin sliding up ever so to clip the back together. You smile looking down at it before turning back to him. 

“Thank you!” you happily exclaim. You're not going to question how he got it from your room or who fixed it but he did it for you. He just looks at you, his eyes scanning your features before he turns around and walks off again. 

The next few days there's been a gift at your side. Decorated clothes, little bits of jewelry, and the biggest gesture a dress which you wear to marcellas send off. You were supposed to go with her, wanting to make sure she’d be safe marrying the prince of dorne but Tyrion wouldn't let you. Stuck in the castle you remained to do things for the queen. Oftentimes she confided in you or when she was drunk hit you. You began to walk around the hall quieter, smaller, bruised even, but worst of all your gifts to sandor had ceased and he hated it. 

Cersi had cast you out after the worst treatment, even throwing scrolls and glasses at you before hitting you and throwing you out into the open battlefield during black water while she continued to drink herself silly. 

Before you knew what to do to hide you were hit by the blunt end of a sword and knocked unconscious. Found on the ground a few seconds later you were picked up onto a horse riding off. 

You came too in bed, your headache slightly as you sat up. You looked down at yourself no longer in the dress you were wearing but wrapped in a black fur, your small clothes not doing you justice to keep you modest as you moved the blanket to the side holding the fur closer to you. 

As soon as you stood your legs gave out sending you to the ground accidentally knocking over the side table you use to try and catch yourself for support. The large oak door of the room opens revealing sandor who rushes to you helping you up making sure you're not hurt any further. 

“S-sandor?” you ask as he picks you up easily and places you back onto the bed. 

“Stay.” he says before kneeling back down picking up the dropped table. You look around seeing everything about the room, the fireplace farther from the bed where it's supposed to be unlit, leaving the candles of the room to give dim light. 

“What happened where am I?” you ask. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, not answering the question. 

“No..” You say. 

“You're shaking.” he replies back before pulling the blanket back up over you. 

“Stay here.” he says before getting back up and walking out of the room. Ofcourse you dont listen and get up nonetheless this time your legs become stronger as you walk out of the room following where he was to go. As you walk through you admire the house looking around seeing a yellow and black banner with dogs on. 

You watch as Sandor walks back into the house, the door closing behind him. 

“Sandor.” you say he puts down the large animal he carries on his shoulder. 

“Where am i?” you ask. 

“Home. My home is just beside white harbor. You've been out for two days.” he says you look around once more looking at the fireplace in the main room once again not lit. 

“Aren't you cold? The fires are not lit.” you ask, seeing the sheen of frost beginning to appear on the windows. 

“I'm not going to light it, I'm fine.” he huffs. You walk over to it, grabbing the logs from the side, placing them in and beginning to strike it, creating the fire that lights the home and gives you warmth. 

He watches you the entire time fearing for both your safety and his own. “What happened?” you ask looking back at him as you sit on the furs by the fire. 

“I don't know. I saw a man with you in his arms. You were unconscious. I killed him. Took you, I assumed you didn't know him. Saw too many women being raped didnt want you too be one of them.” he says 

“Right…cersi she pushed me out i don't remember much after that.” you speak. 

“Fuck cersi, fuck jeoffry.” he huffs pickign up the animal and walking out of the room only to come back a bit later. You stand up and walk to him.

“You're welcome to stay as long as you want, it's just me and winter is coming.” he says as you nod. 

“Your dress is at the end of the bed.” he says pointing down the way. You nod but before walking over to the room you take his arm in yours pulling him down a bit and kiss his cheek. He won't admit it but the blush condoning his face was hotter than the fire. 

For the next few weeks he came more comfortable with your presence even leading to things being said and feelings being shared including a night together which neither of you are led to forget any time soon or later. He continued to give you little gifts one of which being a dog to keep you company while he was gone hunting or just out. And you of course gave him the best little gift of all after the next months, his own son. But you are by far the best gift he's received

[cailinsblog]

A Sweet Christmas | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N, spend a cozy Christmas evening baking cookies together. Despite Lando’s playful messes, they laugh and enjoy decorating the cookies. The night is filled with warmth, love, and holiday magic as they relax by the tree and savor their homemade treats.

Masterlist

The snow had started to fall softly outside the windows of Lando Norris' cozy apartment. It was the kind of quiet, peaceful evening that you could only find around Christmas, when everything felt a little bit more magical. Inside, the soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the living room, and the warm scent of cinnamon and gingerbread had begun to fill the air.

Y/N was standing in front of the kitchen counter, her apron tied around her waist, carefully measuring out flour. She was excited for their Christmas tradition, even if it was something simple—making cookies together. It had become something of a special ritual for the two of them. Lando might spend most of his time on the racetrack, but when it came to Christmas, he was more than happy to trade in fast cars for flour-covered countertops.

Lando, for his part, was currently attempting to "help" by sifting the powdered sugar... a task he had apparently decided was too easy and, therefore, not nearly as fun. Instead, he was playing around, tossing little clouds of sugar up in the air and watching them drift down like snowflakes. Y/N chuckled as one of them landed in his hair.

“Lando!” she laughed, reaching for a paper towel to wipe some sugar off his shoulder. “You’re making a mess!”

He grinned sheepishly, but there was something incredibly endearing about his childlike energy. “Hey, I’m helping! You just don’t understand the art of creating the perfect snowfall effect with powdered sugar,” he teased, flicking a bit more in her direction.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, holding up the flour and gesturing with a teasing smile. “I think you’re just making a bigger mess than we need to clean up later.”

“You can’t rush art,” Lando replied with mock seriousness, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N shook her head but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across her face. “Well, while you’re busy perfecting your snowstorm, I’m actually going to start making the dough,” she said, grabbing a bowl and starting to mix the ingredients.

Lando watched her for a moment, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned against the counter. “I can do that too, you know. I’m good with my hands. Maybe I’ll make the best dough ever.”

“Oh really?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You can barely bake a cookie without burning it, let alone make the dough.”

“That was one time!” he protested, holding up a finger. “It was a *very* complicated recipe.”

She smirked, already knowing he was about to get defensive. “Sure, Lando. You’re probably right,” she said dryly, handing him the rolling pin. “But for now, you can roll out the dough, okay?”

Lando nodded like he’d just been given the most important job in the world. He immediately took the rolling pin and started to roll out the dough with exaggerated concentration, as though the fate of the Christmas cookies rested entirely on his shoulders. Y/N could hardly contain her laughter at his antics.

After a few minutes of him dramatically rolling out the dough, he grinned triumphantly. “All done! Now, what’s next?”

Y/N moved in to take a look, inspecting his work. The dough was unevenly rolled, with some parts much thinner than others, but she didn’t mind. It would all taste the same in the end. “Okay, now we can cut out the shapes,” she said, pulling out a set of cookie cutters in the shape of stars, snowflakes, and Christmas trees. “Are you ready to make some Christmas magic?”

“Born ready,” Lando said, positioning himself beside her. “But I’m going to warn you, I’m excellent at decorating cookies. Like, top-tier.”

Y/N laughed. “We’ll see about that. I have a feeling you’re going to end up eating most of the decorations instead of using them.”

They spent the next hour rolling, cutting, and laughing. Y/N couldn’t help but love the way Lando’s enthusiasm was so contagious. Even when he accidentally made a dough explosion or ended up with flour on his face, he just laughed it off, turning every mishap into an inside joke.

When the cookies were finally ready to go into the oven, Y/N turned to him, her smile softening. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun baking before.”

Lando shrugged, his expression warm. “It’s the company, not the cookies, that makes it fun.”

As the cookies baked, they moved into the living room, where the Christmas tree twinkled with lights and the soft hum of holiday music filled the background. Y/N curled up on the couch, and Lando joined her, draping an arm over her shoulders.

They sat in content silence, only the sound of the occasional pop from the fireplace breaking the quiet. The world outside seemed far away as they simply enjoyed the moment—together, cozy, and happy. It wasn’t the holiday shopping or the big celebrations that made Christmas special; it was these simple, quiet moments.

Eventually, the timer went off, and they both jumped up, rushing back to the kitchen to check on their cookies. The smell was heavenly—spiced with cinnamon, ginger, and sugar. Lando opened the oven door and pulled out the tray with exaggerated care, pretending like he was handling fragile treasure.

After a few minutes of cooling, it was time for the best part: decorating. Y/N set out icing, sprinkles, and little edible pearls, and Lando was immediately at it, piping colorful swirls of icing onto the cookies with absolute concentration.

“You really are good at this,” Y/N said, genuinely impressed as he carefully outlined the snowflakes.

“I told you,” Lando grinned. “I’m a natural.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling as she began decorating her own cookies. They worked together in harmony, sometimes making faces at each other over their icing, sometimes getting into little “cookie decorating contests” to see who could make the prettiest designs. Of course, most of the cookies ended up a little lopsided, but that was part of the charm. Every one was unique and full of love.

When they were finally finished, they stepped back to admire their work. The plate of cookies before them was a sweet, colorful mess of imperfect but delicious-looking treats.

“Well, we definitely won’t be winning any decorating contests,” Y/N said with a laugh, “but I think we’ve created some Christmas magic.”

“Agreed,” Lando said, looking at the plate with a satisfied grin. “They look like something straight out of a holiday movie… except maybe with a little more personality.”

They shared a laugh before grabbing the first cookie from the plate and taking a bite. The warm, sugary taste was perfect, and they both sighed contentedly.

“I think we’ve made some of the best Christmas cookies ever,” Y/N said, looking at him with soft eyes.

Lando smiled, his expression tender. “Yeah, I think we have too.”

They shared a quiet moment, just enjoying each other's company and the happiness of the season. In that moment, surrounded by laughter, cookies, and the warmth of Christmas, Lando and Y/N knew that this was what the holidays were really all about.

And as they settled in with a plate of cookies and a cup of hot cocoa, the world outside continued to drift by, but inside, everything was perfect.

💕💕Remember reblog helps a lot guy💕💕

[faevi]

HEAT WAVES. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: The heatwave is unbearable and your landlord threatens you with a bill. You find yourself desperate to make money before losing your home. Good thing, your kind boss Gojo Satoru is here to save you.

Word Count: 20,486 (i'm so sorry LMAO).

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her). DARK CONTENT (i mean it), manipulation, corruption, bribing, brainwashing, dubcon, sacrilegious, worshipping (a human as a god), dacryphilia, humiliation, fear of becoming homeless, fear in general, degradation, possessiveness, innocence (doesn’t know much about sex asides from what media teaches aka it’s mostly beneficial for the man), loss of virginity, master kink, handjob, blowjob, fucking reader’s mouth, swallowing cum, fingering, cunningulous, unprotected sex, creampie, slapping (on the breasts), pain, bowing to a man, so i guess sorta dehumanising content, sadism/masochism, hickeys, pet-names, satoru really is just.. lowkey nasty & immoral - but he cares in his own way, obsessed gojo, really messy - saliva, cum, etc. he cums twice, huge cock, dirty talk, reader is referred to as a maid —

i think that’s it? please (kindly) let me know if i unintentionally missed something.

Note: Important to warn that there’s mentions of stress about money and losing a home, so desperation to not become homeless etc. If this is a sensitive topic for you, please don’t read! But also remember that this is just fiction and in no shape or form do I agree with such actions in real life. Absolutely not. I would not want anyone to ever be in this position. I wish I don’t have to state the obvious but alas, better to be careful. People enjoy things differently within fiction compared to the real world. Look at people who love horror, for example. Fiction doesn't equal real world, please remember. <3 p.s. not my best writing and i'll always say that. always room for improvement. If you find any mistakes, please ignore!

I also want to give a little thank you to @mochimooon for listening to my idea, helping me out & even inspiring some of my writing/quotes. Please check them out! c:

I hope you enjoy if you’re reading and please let me know if you do! <3

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Fuck, it’s hot.

Obnoxiously so, you think as you hover your face in front of your fan that sits on top of your dresser. It’s small & cheap. Just like most things in your very tiny apartment. You frown in annoyance as the fast-spinning fans begin to stutter. “Don’t you dare.” You threaten the piece of junk before sighing and tugging the third drawer, angling it right so it actually opens. Hands blindly pull out the last set of pants in hopes of wearing them for your shift. You ignore with guilt of the pile of washing sitting in the corner. In your defence— You’ve been too busy worrying about bills and your health than dirty clothes.

Bills. The absolute pain of your existence, minus the current heatwave that has hit the city like a tonne of bricks, surprising everyone. You bring the piece of clothing to your nose, sniffing. “Excellent, sniff test passed.” You joke lightly before holding them to your legs… There’s a big hole directly in the middle of the pant leg. A whine falls naturally from your parted lips, feeling almost disbelief at how things aren’t going your way this morning. One hair grips your hair anxiously, wondering what you could wear to your shift.

It may just be a housekeeping job but, you’re still supposed to look somewhat presentable. The only options you have are tiny shorts. They may be a blessing for this heatwave because it’s not so suffocating but there’s just no way… Is there? You think for a moment, falling down onto your bed and hearing it creak.

The man you housekeep for; Gojo Satoru, is usually at the office building, trusting you enough with a key to come in, clean up and do other duties before greeting him briefly in the evening and leaving. Sometimes you catch him in the morning to wish him a good day and he’s always wearing that handsome grin on his face, crystal blue eyes holding warmth. It always made your day better when you saw him. Satoru is a good boss to have! That’s all. He’s nice enough to understand most situations and pays your wage the proper hourly rate. Surely, he’d understand the misery of working in heat (you just know it’s hot, even when the aircon is blowing) and that shorts are the solution. He won’t be there to see how tiny they are until the very end and it is long forgotten until the next day.

Yeah. You think it may work. You being the professional and polite girl that you are, will still ask him through a message on your phone. You crawl over to snatch your phone up, ignoring how your heart starts to speed up, cheeks all hot. It’s the weather. You breathe in deeply, fingers rapid on the keyboard before you press enter and toss your phone, suddenly feeling flustered.

{ Y/N } good morning, sir! i hate to trouble you before i even arrive, especially since you must be busy getting ready to leave. do you think it’s okay if i change my uniform for today and wear shorts? the heatwave is calling for a change! i promise to still work hard!

It was mere seconds before you heard your phone vibrate, frantically grabbing it to read his response.

{ boss 😇 } mornin’! go for it :) maybe i’ll wear shorts too 😌.

An amused giggle falls from your lips, mind-visioning the sight of the tall male in a pair of shorts at his workplace. It’d be a sight to see. Perhaps a sight you’re actually starting to crave… Shorts to reveal his toned thighs? You frantically shake your head to snap out of the thoughts, almost embarrassed to catch yourself thinking of your boss like that. “Stay professional, Y/N..” You mumble before you finally stand up to get ready, actively trying to think of anything else besides the overdue bills and your charming boss.

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

Finally ready to leave for work, you hastily grab your bag and move towards the short hallway. You briefly pause to inspect yourself in the mirror, cheeks feeling hotter than before. The pair of shorts were— Well… /short/. Tightly fitted around mid-thigh, fabric cupping around your ass cheeks and threatening to ride up with every small movement. Your shirt is sadly your typical polo work shirt. It’s a bit baggy so you’re able to move freely but regrettably not long enough to hide your lower half. The first button on the shirt is undone to pitifully attempt to cool off in the heat, only wishing the other two were undone as well.

You sigh softly, pinching the bridge of your nose. Satoru won’t be home as you work around his loft. Maybe if you move fast enough, he won’t even have time to check out your temporary uniform change before you step into the elevator in the meeting. You breathe in deeply, index finger pressing against the mirror. “It’s fine! Just go succeed the—“

There’s a loud knock on the door. Your head snaps towards it before hastily approaching to yank the door open. You have to use force to even open it. You often try to mention that it seems dangerous if there’s a fire hazard. What if you get stuck? You’re face to face with your landlord. An unpleasant old man who just shoves multiple envelopes against your chest.

“Your rent is overdue, here. Also got your other mail for you. If you don’t pay by the end of the week, you’re outta here.”

Your eyes widen, hands clammy as you take hold of the envelopes, your heart drastically sinking. “Wh-What? I just paid—“ You attempt to defend yourself and it only falls on deaf ears as the landlord grins at you. “Don’t care, that’s your problem. Not mine. Seven days, Y/N.” He warns before hoisting up his pants and moving down the hallway, probably eager to torment his next victim. You hastily rip open the envelopes to see the amount of money you owe. It’s not only rent but, other necessities as well. Tears threaten to spill and you bring a hand up to wipe at your eyes.

How are you going to get this large amount of money before the week ends? You’ll be kicked out and have nowhere to go. Living out of your car would be the last resort and the one you’re forced to take. A shaky breath escapes, stuffing the envelopes into your backpack before slamming the door shut behind you. You have to get to work. It’s the only way you get money even… if it’s not going to be enough. Still, your heart feels thankful towards Gojo Satoru for hiring you and you weren’t gonna let him down.

So quietly, mind swirling with disastrous thoughts and eyes stinging; you travel to work.

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

You find yourself on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city, keycard swiping against the small machine lodged into the wall and pressing the four-digit code. The door unlocks and smoothly opens as you push it. Nothing like your one. You didn’t bump into Satoru on the ground floor as he usually makes his way out. So naturally you just assume that he’s left for the day. It’s a relief to you. You’re paranoid that your face is all puffy from crying hard in the car; cursing at bills and the heat.

Ugh, the heat. Thank goodness for the gentle cool air blowing through the vents. Did the man in charge of you turn it on for you before he left? You smile softly, dropping your backpack in the usual corner. People often depict Satoru as this overly confident man without a care in the world, often oblivious to how selfish he can be — He may have his moments but, you know how kind he can be. Not to mention hot… You frantically shake your head, hands slapping against your cheeks. “Now’s not the time to be giddy over your dumb crush on your boss. Work.” You mumble under your breath, teeth gnawing on your lower lip.

You open one of the many doors in the long hallway to reveal your cleaning supplies. Satoru allows you to keep it in his home so you don’t have to tug it along for each journey. Yet again, kind. Finally, you get to work and desperately try to ignore how tight the flimsy shorts feel around your ass each time you bend over. You also try to ignore the haunting thoughts of your bills.

It’s going to be a long day…

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

Satoru isn’t in the office building today. He decided to stay home, unable to be coaxed out of the penthouse because of the nasty heatwave. That and he’s been ‘inspired’ by a very polite text message about shorts and why the hell would he leave now? The white-haired man glances towards the office door that’s slightly ajar, listening to muffled sounds of you already starting to work. Utterly oblivious to him being home.

Fuck, he finds you so cute. He remembers since the day he met you that he’d hire you instantly. Bowing towards him and looking so innocent as you express eagerness to be his maid— He refuses to call you ‘housekeeper’. It’s far too boring. It’s a pity that society deems it unethical and also impractical to wear pretty maid dresses to work. Now it’s a dumb polo shirt and usually pants. Usually… Not today. His gaze is wide and manic. He’s so eager to see you in a pair of shorts. The white-haired male doesn’t care if they’re just baggy basketball shorts either. Shorts are shorts. Shorter than pants. Skin is showing. Your soft, pretty skin.

Satoru groans quietly, annoyed with his stubbornness to hide for a while before surprising you. He wants to see you now. Long fingers thread through his white hair, crystal blue eyes falling back to his laptop and lips forming a natural pout, typing dramatically slow on the keyboard with one hand. Still, it will be worth it to see you let your guard down before being surprised by his presence. He can already tell that you’d behave so cute that it’s a miracle he won’t bend you over any flat surface and pound into you until you’re a babbling mess. “Safe to say you’re obsessed and want your dick wet with her cute pussy, Satoru..” He mutters beneath his breath, snorting.

Obsessed feels like an understatement. Satoru feels his infatuation for you grow deeply every day. Every single time you bid him farewell and smiled so sweetly, leading him to jerk himself on the couch with your name escaping his lips. He even deliberately goes late to work just to catch you in the morning, swearing you’re the reason for a good day and everything going his way. Nearly everything. He often thinks of just how exactly he could really get you to be his. It’d be scary to a normal person if they could ever read his mind and realise the dark thoughts he has to try and charm you. It’s just so hard when you’re determined to stay professional and keep things to be strictly business. So yeah, maybe he has to stick to his filthy fantasies for now. Satoru always gets what he wants in the end. He just needs to be patient.

The penthouse is big and with a glance at the time, Satoru assumes you’re in the kitchen by now to clean and prepare meals. Perfect time for a coffee. The corners of his lips twitch, biting back a childish grin and lifts himself up from the office chair. He knows he mentioned wearing shorts in the text message but, he decided on the other way around. Tracksuit pants and no shirt. He works hard at the gym daily and so surely, his beautiful toned body would entice you or at least distract you. The elastic band of the tracksuit pants hang low on his hips, revealing the sinister ‘v’ that leads down to somewhere that will hopefully make you look. He’s downright awful for this behaviour. Terribly unprofessional but all he can think of is his cock.

He quietly steps out of the office room, thankful to actually step away from the screen and walks through the hallway and then the large open space that connects the lounge area with the dining and kitchen. Satoru stuffs his hands into the pockets of his grey tracksuit pants before approaching the kitchen and, holy fuck. His eyes instantly focus on the gorgeous sight of you bending over in front of him, wiping your cloth across the cabinet doors. The pair of shorts aren’t like basketball ones at all. Silly of him to think baggy clothing just because your aura is so innocent. It distracted him from the idea of tighter clothing. Just like your booty shorts now, riding up between your perky ass cheeks and squirming to try and feel more comfortable. He’s going to hell for imagining himself yanking the fabric up further until you do that cute little gasp of surprise and look so embarrassed. Satoru just knows, deep in his core, that embarrassment would look good on you.

Still, he needs to behave. Just a little. You’re a sweet person and he needs to keep his sadistic ways away from you. In his defence (he’s often trying to defend himself against his own thoughts), he has ‘loving’ fantasies towards you. He just wants you to himself. Satoru shakes out of it before casually walking over until he’s standing directly next to you, flicking the switch on the kettle. “Morning, Y/N. You don’t need to work so hard, y’know? Give the dust monsters a fighting chance.” He jokes, reaching for his favourite mug; a gift from you. It’s crystal blue and reminds him of how flustered you were when explaining it made you think of his eyes.

You gasp sharply out of surprise at a sudden presence, trying to grab onto the edge of the bench for support but failing to do so and fall directly onto your butt, eyes wide as you look up at the tall male beside you. He’s home!? Heat rises in your cheeks and you scramble to stand up, fingers twisting the cloth. “S-Sir! I didn’t- I didn’t know you were home. I’m so- Sorry. I should have greeted you…” You trail off quietly, shy gaze lingering on his toned upper body. He’s shirtless. Oh god, he’s shirtless. It’s not shorts that he decided to wear for the heat. It’s less clothing.

The corners of his lips curl up to form an amused smirk, eating up every bit of your reaction. It’s just what he wanted. Luck really is on his side every second of the day. He especially enjoys the lingering gaze of yours on his body. Being shirtless was the right call. He feigns innocence as he spoons the coffee ground into his mug, smiling gently in your direction. “Don’t apologise. It’s on me for being a hermit in my office. It’s too hot to go to work. I’d say it was a good call on those shorts.” Satoru says, voice low and smooth. His eyes shift down to look at your shorts once more. The front view is even better. You laugh shyly, thighs pressing together in a pathetic attempt to try and hide. It does nothing but fuel his secret desires further. You turn away to start wiping another flat surface, hand trembling. You need to stay professional and stop looking at his eight-pack. It was a nice distraction from your thoughts of bills at least. Satoru’s presence alone is always enough to do that.

The white-haired male forces his eyes towards your face this time, blindly pouring boiling water into his mug before slowly setting the kettle down. You’ve been crying. He can tell by how puffy it is around your eyes and how your free hand tries to rub any evidence away. Oh no… No, no, no. He doesn’t like you upset. Satoru stays quiet, lips pressing firmly together as he stirs the coffee. Who does he need to hurt, he wonders. Is it a boy? God, if it is… His knuckles are going to be all bloody and bruised. Fuck. He’s jumping to conclusions again. He clears his throat, body turning to face yours. “Y/N, are you okay? If you’re feeling unwell, you can take time off... You know that, right? You’ll still be paid.” Satoru expresses with warmth to his tone, taking a sip of the bitter coffee.

Your head whips right around, eyes wide and hands coming up to shake frantically. “No! No, I need to work. Please. I’m honestly okay. I love working for you. You’re always so kind and thoughtful. Please, don’t think anything. Let me keep working. I’m okay, see?” You express earnestly, lips curling to form a wide grin. It prompts a soft smile to grace his features, stepping closer until there’s only a tiny gap between you. You could practically feel the warmth radiating off of his bare skin. His free hand tenderly cups your chin, thumb rubbing over the soft skin. Oh. He’s touching you for the first time. Why does it feel so good? You shyly shift your gaze upwards, looking up at him from beneath your long lashes.

Satoru curses internally when he feels his cock twitch from witnessing such a sweet look from you. He knows that he shouldn’t touch you. It’s breaking boundaries but, he really couldn’t resist. Not when you’re clearly haunted with thoughts and pretending to be okay. He cares for you. In so many ways. “Alright, keep working. Just know that if you ever need something, your master is here for you. I’ll take care of you.” He says rather boldly before pulling his hand away. “I’m going back to work. My door is open.” Satoru reminds, leaving you speechless as he returns to his office, sipping on his coffee.

Master…

Satoru really just called himself that. A hand presses against your chest, feeling your heart race. That’s the first time you’ve ever heard such a title in person and yet, it sounds so much prettier than ‘boss’. He even said he’d take care of you. You twist the cloth in your grip, trying to force down the giddiness you start to feel. You’re so thankful to have someone so kind in charge of you. Still, he’s not paying you to stand around! You need to repay him for his kindness. With a swirl of Satoru’s words and thoughts of your overdue bills in mind, you push yourself to work.

The tall male slumps against the inner wall of his office, crystal blue eyes staring blankly ahead and a sigh escaping from his lips. That was a dangerous game to play and yet, Satoru couldn’t resist the chance of putting ideas into your head. You may be so innocent but, he’s determined that his words would have done something to you. However, he wonders what does trouble you. Even he would put a pause on his selfish ways to help you if life calls for it. He walks over to his chair, setting his mug down before slumping into his chair, long legs spreading out. He stares at the mug, mind already starting to be pumped full of images in tight little shorts and his large hand mindlessly palming himself. You look so cute today and he just wants you so badly… What he really needs to do is pay attention—

Satoru snaps out of his thoughts once more, grumbling before resuming work, hoping that you’ll visit him throughout the day.

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

You’re stupid for thinking that you could go through the day without your stress levels rising. It’s the middle of the day now, most rooms clean and what you should be doing is making lunch for the older male. The one who is so sweet to you and yet, you’re standing in the middle of the lounge room, tears spilling down your cheeks and hands trembling as they frantically try to wipe them away. You’re supposed to be strong and resilient; think you could get through anything the world throws at you. Yet, you’re going to be homeless by the end of the week and living in your tiny car. You barely have money in your bank account to cover even a phone bill let alone rent.

You sniffle quietly, chest feeling tight as you glance towards the scattered letters at your feet. Life is far too cruel to you. Especially when you work for someone so wonderful. Satoru pays you well and yet, it’s not enough for your stupid landlord. Satoru… You look towards the hallway, eyes focused on the open door to his office. He did say he’ll take care of you, right? Will he help find a solution to your hot mess? Will he even comfort you? Oh, how you crave to just be surrounded by his warmth. You breathe in deeply, ignoring how shaky you sound when you exhale and slowly begin to approach Satoru’s office until you’re standing outside and looking into his world.

He’s working hard, fingers rapid on the keyboard but they stop instantly and his crystal blue eyes look up towards you, lips curling. He’s always able to sense your presence. “Y/N, finally visiting me? I was counting down the time.” He half-jokes, standing up from his chair. Satoru instantly notices your misery and how it’s written all over your face. “What’s wrong?” He asks, brows knitting together to form a frown of concern and quickly walks around the desk to approach you. Instantly, you stumble forward until you’re pressing into him, hands clenched together as if you were about to pray to him. “Please— Please, give me extra sh-shifts. I need to— I need to work more. I have bills to pay.” You hiccup between the words that frantically spill from your lips, tears gliding down your cheeks.

Satoru finds his heart racing, conflicted with himself from finding the sight of you begging to be heavenly. His large hands rest gently on your shoulders, giving a squeeze before stroking along your bare arms. “Extra shifts? What, you already work nearly every day, Y/N. That’s not healthy... Bills?” He asks, hoping for more of an explanation. Why is his heart racing with hope from the sight of your despair? He’s a sick individual. Your weight is leaning on him entirely now and Satoru wraps his arms around your trembling figure to provide you with the comfort you were craving. Your tears smearing against his bare chest.

You could barely focus on how being embraced by your superior has always been a secret dream of yours; feeling too much distress and fear of what’s to happen to you. You sob loudly and Satoru is thankful you’re not looking up at him to see the complete bliss written across his face. You’re relying on him. Not someone else. It’s him that you’re clinging onto and begging for help. He should feel guilty for being so happy in this moment. Your nails dig into his bare skin as you cling, your voice muffled against his chest. “Please... Just give me more shifts… If— If I don’t pay my bills by the end of the week, I’ll be homeless! I’ll have to... I’ll have to live in my car and I just need to pay these bills. I have nowhere to go!”

Satoru isn’t going to hell. That’s not what it feels like now. No. This must be heaven. Everything just keeps landing in front of him on a silver platter and he’s more than ready to devour. You’re desperate and in need of money for petty bills and he has more than enough to buy that shitty apartment complex ten times over if he really wanted to. He swears he’s not evil. He cares for you. It’s just that he’s selfish and perhaps a little sadistic. Well, he tries to convince himself of that. It’s going to be a pleasure to finally corrupt you to the core and have you tangled around his long fingers. The plan just instantly appears in his head like a lightbulb flicking on, listening to your sweet cries.

“Oh, sweetheart. That’s awful. How could your landlord be so mean to you?” Satoru says so softly, strong arms wrapping around your smaller frame and he hugs you tightly, not allowing you to see the brief sinister smirk that lingers on his lips and the way his eyes darken with joy for what he’s going to do next. You continue to whimper out your pleas against his broad shoulder. Your boss— No… Master sounds so much more comforting. Your Master is so kind to you. You could feel his warmth soak into your trembling body. The summer heat couldn’t even make this unpleasant.

“I... I don’t know… I already paid rent and he just hits me with more bills. Sir, I have nowhere else to go! I really need the money! Please, I’ll do anything you say if you can just give me more shifts or something? I— I’ll fix things, or try to! I’ll go deliver things? Please—“ You feel his hands gently prying you off of his body, eyes meeting. He’s looking at you with so much kindness. How could anyone ever think that this man is selfish and cruel? The white-haired male cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears as he gently shushes you, coaxing you to slowly calm down from crying. Tiny hiccups escape and snot threatens to drip. Still, you don’t think anything could stop your tears besides a wad of cash.

You’ll do anything for him. It’s like music to his ears; aside from your pretty crying. “I don’t know, Y/N... You already do so much, I can’t really think of anything..” He sighs, watching the way your eyes widen with horror at the thought of not being able to make enough in time. Fuck, his cock is throbbing so hard. He’s awful for doubling the fear you feel. His hands take hold of yours to give a squeeze and pull you into a tight embrace again, a hand resting against the back of your head. It feels so nice, the way his hand strokes your hair. “I can’t give you extra shifts, but I’d love to help you out. I can give you the money to help you not lose your home..”

Your heart sparks with hope! Satoru is so caring towards you. You look towards him, fingers curling into fists that rest against his toned chest. Cute, he thinks. His eyes light up, lips curling to form a smile.

“Except, you’ll have to do something for me in return. You said you’ll do anything, right? It’s nothing too difficult, love.” Satoru purrs, head mimicking your own head tilting, finger tapping against your chin. “I’ll help you with rent if you let me have you.” He proposes, trying not to laugh with endearment from your look of confusion. You pull back a little, though hands refusing to leave his warm torso.

“Have me? You already do, sir. I work for you. What do you mean..” You trail off, heart starting to speed up anxiously, though laced with excitement. You couldn’t understand why. The white-haired male chuckles, pushing hair out of your face and forcing you to look up at him with a grip on your chin.

“I mean, I’ll take care of all those troubling and nasty bills if you let me have your body, Y/N. It’s that easy. You’ll feel so good, too. There’s nothing else you could do for me because you already take such good care of me.” Satoru says, hand tenderly stroking your arm.

You look at him in wild confusion, merely because you didn’t ever expect this to be the answer. He wants your body. Satoru laughs a little, thinking you’re cute for the thousandth time. Dumb little brain needs to be taken care of, too. “Sex, Y/N. Making love.” He emphasises the last term. It’s deliberate as he thinks it’d entice your sweet heart more than the blunt term ‘fucking’. Everything he says, every touch he gives; all have a motive.

Embarrassment washes over you and your hand grips helplessly onto his muscular bicep. “I know what you meant! I just—“ You pause, mind thinking it over. Satoru, the man who has hired you, will give you money to take care of bills and in return, you sleep with him. Your mind is a hot mess, thinking so many things and especially why on earth would someone so gorgeous and with a heart of gold; want you. Your mind travels to a memory. One of when you were in university before you dropped out because of not being able to afford it. A professor got fired and a student was expelled because she had sex with him for good grades in return. Such situations are viewed down upon.

Satoru isn’t worried. He just watches you with patience (though his cock certainly wasn’t feeling that) and his long fingers lightly play with yours. He knows you’ll give in because he’ll lead you to that path. Besides, he knows you’re attracted to him to some degree. That’s been obvious since day one. He pulls away to walk towards a cabinet as you begin to speak.

“Sir, I-I’m flattered that you want to help me and… that this is the only way but, isn’t it against, you know, rules?”

Satoru laughs lightheartedly at your words, prompting you to feel hot in the face again. He reveals a safe, typing in the passcode swiftly before opening it up. Again, every action of his is intentional. Especially when the insides are exposed to you. Stacks and stacks of cash. One tiny stack alone could pay rent for a year. He tilts his head, noticing your shocked expression at the sight of the small percentage of his riches.

“I make the rules, Y/N. Do you really think I’d let you get in trouble and suggest this? I care about you.”

You feel your heart flutter gently from those words. He cares, you know he does. Always so friendly to you and goes out of his way. This really must be the only option he has left if he wants to help you. You sniffle quietly, a hand rubbing at your eyes that feel so puffy and tired. How’d he even think of choosing your body after seeing you cry is a miracle. Still, you don’t know if you should do this. Especially since you’ve never had sex before. You better speak your truth before it’s too late. “Sir, I don’t think I can…”

Satoru sighs out dramatically, hand moving to close the safe, his broad back facing you. You’re not able to see the sinister smirk he’s displaying as he speaks. “Then I don’t know what to do, Y/N. Sweetheart, you might actually end up on the stree—“

“No, I just mean I’m a virgin! I want to take up this huge favour that you’re willing to do for me but I’m a virgin, I haven’t done anything let alone be kissed. You deserve someone experienced, I can’t give you what you need.” You begin to choke up as tears begin to spill down your cheeks when you realise that nothing can be done. You feel utterly hopeless and even useless. Your boss— Master, is stretching out his hand to save you, only asking for your body in return and you can’t because why would he want someone so stupidly inexperienced?

The white-haired tilts his head upwards after hearing the wonderful news. A virgin. Untouched. Innocent. You haven’t been touched by anyone and could be all his to corrupt. He can be the one to twist and shape you into someone that revolves around him. You could even become the one to worship him like a God who saved you from your pitiful life. It feels even more special because of the simple fact that it is you. The one he’s been craving hungrily for since day one. The one he really wanted to have fall for him and rely heavily on him. That you’d only ever look his way because how could some other person, man or woman; ever conquer when it’s him who’s taking all of your firsts and having you tangled in his web. He will become your one and only to worship and cherish.

You definitely wouldn’t want someone else when he’s manipulated you into agreeing and finally having your eyes open to pleasure. Pleasure only he can give. Satoru feels that confident in himself and his shoulders nearly shake from silent laughter. He already feels like he’s won. Satoru breathes in deeply before he turns around to face you, eyes now showing concern for you. He frowns, pretending to not be giddy at the sight of your tears and walks back over to you. The safe is opened slightly to still reveal the contents.

“I accept you for who you are, Y/N. It might be off-putting to other men that you’ve never had sex or as I like to say, make love but, it isn’t to me. It just makes you even more special in my eyes.” Satoru says, hand tenderly stroking your cheek and gently wiping the tears away. Fuck, how he’d love to lick them off your cute face instead. You frown a little at first at his words, an unpleasant twist in your stomach that prompts your hands to reach out for him. For comfort. He’s right. Other men would look at you unpleasantly for being so inexperienced…

Satoru thinks you’re special, though. It coaxes butterflies to appear in your stomach, reminding you how they often seem to come alive whenever Satoru is around. You smile shyly, cheeks stained with tears and you tilt into his hand, thinking of his proposal. He’ll help you with your bills if you just give your body to him. He doesn’t care about your virginity and is still willing to. You bite down on your lip, leaning in close and a fleeting glance at the safe full of money. You care for Satoru and deeply respect him. Still… Is this right?

He notices it and bites back a chuckle. You’re clearly desperate to not lose a roof over your head. In all honesty, Satoru wants to beat your landowner up. Violently. It angers him that you’ve been put in a position and feel complete despair. He hates when others are cruel to you but, he’ll still selfishly take the chance to take you for himself. Nothing could put a stop to that. Not even a gun to his head. It’s safe to say that Satoru knows that he lacks morals. Does he care how unethical it is to coax his personal maid into sex? Fuck no. His dick definitely agrees with his plan, too. He continues to gaze down at you, stroking your cheek. You just need a little push and he knows you’ll fall over the edge and desperately reach for him. He’ll bless you with his hand reaching out to hold you before you could fall into darkness.

“Let’s make love, Y/N. I’ll pay your rent just as I promise. Besides, don’t you want to give up your virginity to someone who truly cares about you or would you rather give it to some man at the bar, just wanting to get his dick wet? I’ll make you feel good. Let me take care of you. Let me save you.” His voice is quiet and low as he bends down to whisper against your ear, warm breath fanning against it. Checkmate, he thinks as his eyes never leave his prize.

This is your virginity. You only get one shot. Body, heart & soul already yearn for the older male, yelling at you that there’s no one else you could find that would do better than Satoru. They agree with their Master’s words and now your mind is starting to agree too. No one else could do it. Satoru wants to make love with you and help you ease your troubles. No one would ever do that. Just your master. This tall, white-haired man has always been so selfless. So kind and loving towards you. You won’t have to worry anymore. It just makes sense to agree.

Shyly, your arms wrap around his neck and you have to lean up on your toes. Has he always been so tall? He towers above you, physique looking so beautifully carved like it’s a Greek statue of a God. You feel so hot despite the cool air blowing from the aircon, looking up at him. Satoru’s hands are cautious on your hips, thumbs dipped beneath the shirt to rub comforting circles against your soft skin. He really is willing to save you. “I want to, Sir. If I give myself, you’ll help me with my bills and take care of me for my first time... It makes sense. I want it all with you.” You express through a whisper, ignoring how your heart races so excitedly for sins that are about to be committed. You always had an innocent crush on your boss and now he’s doing all of this. For you.

An almost manic grin appears from hearing you finally agree, bending slightly to press a kiss to your jawline, breathing in deeply. Satoru could smell your sweet perfume mixed with your sweat. Fucking perfect. He’s finally getting what he’s always wanted. Thank fuck for the overdue bills. “Your Master will take good care of you in return, baby. Don’t worry your pretty little head about those bills anymore. Just let go and succumb to me.” Satoru purrs, coaxing you into feeling a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment as you nod with eagerness.

“Don’t think the office is the right place for this.” Satoru thinks aloud before easily hoisting you up into his hold. He guides your legs around his waist, hands cupping just beneath your perky butt and briefly, he thanks the heatwave for prompting you to wear shorts. “Sir? Where will we go?” You ask, too flustered to use logic at the given time.

“Mm, call me Master from now on. It’s cuter from your lips. Is there nothing in that small brain of yours, baby?” He teases, walking down the hallway. Your cheeks flush from the humiliation of his words, trying to hide your face. He looks up above, mouthing ‘thank you’ — To himself. All his hard work has paid off. “Where does sex usually happen, do you not know?” He mocks, cock straining against his tracksuit pants.

You whine, frantically pulling away to look at him. “I know where sex happens! I just had… a dumb moment.” You huff, helping with pushing the door open to his master bedroom as he nudges it with his foot. He coos, endeared by your brief feistiness and kisses your temple. “Of course you do, Y/N. Only a dumb baby sometimes.” Satoru chuckles and you feel your heart flutter from hearing one of your favourite sounds. It relaxes you. Only a little, which is only natural for something big that’s about to happen in your life. Satoru gently sets you down on the polished wooden floor and walks slowly over to the bed, pretending to inspect it. There’s a circular rug beneath the king-size bedroom. He may have been prompted in the shop by how you praised the fuzziness of it and that he wouldn’t want you hurting your knees when he finally gets you between his legs. Ha. He really is a winner. Never the loser kind.

He stands there before the bed. He sighs deeply and turns towards you. Satoru has to ignore how his heart aches from the cute sight of you nervously fidgeting. “You know, Y/N... I’m really helping you here. You’re always so polite to me but, I was wondering if you could show me how deeply thankful you are for me, your master. Will you?” He asks, voice laced with sweetness. You’re oblivious to the fact that he’s testing your obedience, curious if you really would do anything. Including something some would say is humiliating.

It’s not humiliating at all to you and instead, it makes perfect sense to you. He’s gone out of his way a few years ago to hire you and now he’s going even further. Quickly, you drop down to your knees and your face scrunches slightly from the impact. You’re not close enough for the fuzzy carpet. Even though you feel so flustered, you lower your upper body until your nose presses against the wood and your hands overlap just before you. You’re bowing as deeply as you can, tears of relief threatening to spill. “Th-Thank you, Master. This means the world to me. I’ll thank you over and over.” You whisper breathlessly. You could feel your shorts rising from the movement, perky ass cheeks on display as you bow towards him.

Satoru is more thankful for his phone in his pocket, slyly pulling it out to hold it up and snapping a photo of the glorious sight of you bowing before him, thanking him for how his thick cock will stretch out your virgin pussy— Well, he knows the gratitude is beyond that. He’s grinning a little, still in almost disbelief that everything is going his way. He may be confident in his abilities but, there was always that chance of everything falling apart and you leaving. His heart aches at the thought of that. He’d do anything and everything to make you stay. Even force if he had to. He clears his throat, grin lessening to a soft smile. “You’re okay with me taking a photo, right? Sweet girl, you look so cute when you’re bowing to me.” Frankly, he’d still keep the photo but it’s nice to get your consent either way.

You whine quietly at his words, peeking up at him and noticing him setting his phone aside. “Master can do anything he wants..” You mumble shyly, face feeling hot once more. Is your heart going to leap out of your chest? That’s what it feels like. Satoru walks over until his bare feet are in front of your eyes. You lift yourself up a little to look up towards his gorgeous face as he towers above you. Your saviour. “Y/N, are you happy to give me your first of firsts?” His voice is low and deep, yet so silky smooth that you find yourself nodding eagerly. Truth be told, you always dreamt of giving him your first kiss. You have been crushing on him hard and just stubbornly tried to stay professional.

“I want Master to have it! I want him to show me what it’s like, I want…” You trail off, longing gaze falling to his soft-looking lips. “To taste my Master.” You finally confess and Satoru couldn’t stop himself from smirking, pleased with your response. You’re still in disbelief at everything that is going on. Still nervous about the bills— It’s hard to take your mind off of them. Satoru will help with that. You watch as he stands up and your lips part in silent awe. From this angle, he really does appear like a God saving you. His crystal blue eyes focus on you as he begins to step away, his heart leaping when you desperately reach out for him. “Come on, baby girl. Crawl. You’ll reach the bed soon or, is it me that you’re wanting to reach?” He teases lightly, prompting you to huff and start to crawl on all fours in his direction, ignoring the annoyance of your booty shorts riding up between your ass cheeks. It’s definitely him that you want to reach.

Satoru settles on the edge of the king-size bed, eyes refusing to blink as he watches you crawl over to him like his very own personal pet. It’s a sight he wants burned into his mind to remember for eternity. He could still sense your shyness and while others may have told you to get over all of this; the shyness only fuels his desires further to corrupt you and shape you into his. He bends down once you reach him, arms beneath your underarms and hoists you up with ease onto his lap, directly onto his crotch. He shifts to hug around your waist, pulling against him and you can’t stop yourself from feeling flustered or how your heart seems to race even faster. It’s to be expected, right? Everything is new and it’s all involving the man in charge of you.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous but, trust me. You trust me, right? I would never let anyone hurt you, not even myself. I’m just here to take care of you. Save you.” Satoru whispers, leaning in as his lips hover over yours, not kissing you just yet. A shaky breath escapes, your hands gently gripping onto his broad shoulders for support. He’s saving you. Won’t let any harm come your way. No more mean bills to make you cry. “I trust you..” You respond softly and soon feel his lips pressing against yours. One of his large hands comes up to cup the back of your head to keep you in place, fingers threading through your hair to grip as he moves his tiers slowly against yours, guiding you through your first kiss. He could tell you’re new to everything; not exactly knowing what to do with your lips besides what you see in films.

Satoru couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. “Just follow your Master, baby girl. Let him guide.” He mumbles against your plump lips and you relax on his lap, arms now snaking around his neck as you follow his lead. It’s not so clumsy anymore as you kiss him. Lips moving against lips. Tongue peeking out to swipe across lower tiers. You’re a quick learner, he notices. He fucking loves that. He continues to make out with you, time easing away and the kiss being fuelled with more passion. It’s sloppy, saliva smearing and neither of you seemed to care. You feel a mixture of peace and excitement as you kiss Satoru. Each touch is a reminder to you that he cares for you. That he won’t let anything happen. Not to mention that he’s just really good at taking the lead and kissing you breathless. You wonder if you’ll be allowed to kiss him more after, easily sinking into his trap.

You sigh happily, body moving on its own as you shift to straddle him properly, fingers threading through his white hair to gently pull on as you press flush against him; your covered breasts against his bare chest, unintentionally rubbing. You’re unaware of how you’re moving, just getting lost in the kiss. Satoru on the other hand, is deeply aware. Especially when you’re causing friction against his crotch and causing him to groan into the searing kiss. For a virgin, your body definitely has been craving to be touched. By him only. His tongue drags slowly across your lower lip until your lips part to whimper and he slides his tongue in with ease, gliding it across every inch of your mouth, eager to have your sweet taste permanently on his tongue. His hands are tight against your body to keep you in place, causing you to squirm and press into him, only craving to drown in the kiss.

You feel him slowly devour you, hand caressing along the length of your back and you just simply melt, completely dazzled by everything that is Gojo Satoru. It’s only a kiss, too. Will everything feel so good? His tongue rubs against yours as your pair of lips continue to move against his until eventually, he decides to part. There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips together, causing you to feel flush. “You’re a fast learner, Y/N.” He praises, intentions to trap you and reel you in further. You often enjoyed being praised by him for your work, so it only makes sense to him. His assumption was correct, eyes lighting up at his words and a hand quickly wiping away the saliva. “You’re a good teacher, Master.” You say softly, causing his ego to swell up.

His gaze darkens, using his strength to easily manhandle your body around until your back meets the bed and he’s pinning you down, one hand gripping firmly onto your wrist and his other stroking your side every so lightly. You choke on a surprised gasp from the sudden movement, staring up at him with wide eyes, long lashes fluttering gently. Is your heart racing from nerves? Excitement? “Baby..” He trails off, leaning down to brush his lips along your jawline, whispering. “You’re going to do something for me, aren’t you?” Satoru peeks up at your face and even someone untouched can pick up on the implication. You squirm nervously now. It’s all new. What if you’re not good at it? Should you really be doing this? Would Satoru want you if he wasn’t doing you such a huge favour? What is your worth? Your mind tends to still leave questions and Satoru doesn’t like that. He wants your mind free of everything but his voice.

“Remember that I’m doing you a favour, Y/N.” He growls lowly, teeth nipping at your flesh. He’s awful for being further aroused by instilling fear into you. It’s a necessity if he wants you to break and finally realise the truth properly. That you live to serve him completely. “Don’t be so scared, my sweet maid. You want this, I know you do. We’re taking our time. It’s just… Master is aching. Only wants your touch.” His large hand smothers one of your own, slowly guiding it towards his crotch. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be crying on the streets in just seven days. So baby girl, just forget it all. Let me take care of you as you take care of me.” His words are low and soothing, listening intently to every word that he says like it’s a prayer to memorise.

That’s right. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be completely doomed. With determination pumping through your body, you move to sit up, hands pressing against his chest and he allows you to move him until he’s lying down on his back now, gazing up at you with a victorious grin displaying on his swollen lips. Fuck yes. You’re so easy to manipulate and it riles him up. He pretends that he’s calm, just adjusting the pillows beneath his head before a hand comes down to give your closest thigh a tender squeeze. It’s encouraging to you and you clasp his hands between both of yours, pressing it against your chest. You look at him like he’s everything to you. He always has been. That small crush turned into something more. Foolish of you to realise only now.

“I live to serve you, Master. I know I’m new but, I’ll do everything I can to make you feel good. Please teach me when I need it.” You express breathlessly before letting go of his hand to crawl between his parted legs. You curl up, leaning forward until your face presses against his crotch, nuzzling so lovingly and breathing in the scent of Satoru. He grits his teeth, long fingers twitching before he grips onto the blanket beneath him for now. The white-haired male didn’t expect such a filthy yet endearing gesture but it only causes him to ache, wishing for his cock to be freed already. “Good girl, you’re so good.. Show me what you know,” Satoru says through his clenched teeth, not daring to look away from the pretty sight of you between his long legs. Truth be told, you found that you’d just be happy to exist with your face nuzzling between his crotch, inhaling in his comforting scent. Yeah, sweat mixed with cologne. Some might find it off-putting but it’s Satoru! Your beloved boss.

Remembering scenes from films and your own curiosity as your motivator, you press your tongue flat against the fabric that restricts him, dragging it slowly across the mysterious thickness that his pants are hiding. It prompts a soft groan to leave Satoru, teeth latching onto his lower lip. He didn’t expect you to do something so teasing and lewd. It’s so long, you noticed. Your tongue reaches the end and that’s when you notice the leaking tip just peeking out from under the elastic band, his cock straining against it.

“Are you smiling because you get to see my cock? Dirty girl.” He snorts lightly and you bring a hand up to your mouth, noticing that you really were smiling down at his crotch. You assume it’s because you’ll get to give someone you adore some pleasure. Right? “Can’t help myself.” You tsk lightly, hooking your fingers beneath the elastic band and finally begin to hastily pull down. It seems like you’re pulling and pulling until finally, his erection springs out, slapping against his toned stomach. Your jaw drops in shock from how big it is. You’ve seen porn and obnoxiously big dicks but— Satoru’s is on another level. It’s not obnoxiously long that it seems fake but, it’s still huge. Thick, too. You can only imagine that your fingers will struggle to meet around it. There’s a pretty curve to the pulsating length, protruding veins along the sides. Your gaze is completely fixated on the beauty of it and something just clicks in your head as a droplet of pre-cum leaks from the head and down the many inches. It just clicks that, of course, Gojo Satoru would have the most beautiful cock in the world. Of course, it’d be attached to someone who deserves to be worshipped daily.

Satoru’s confidence just rapidly increases, casually resting an arm beneath his head, smirking at the cute sight of you being in a shock of silence. People in the past often said that he’s got a big dick but your face just says so much more. Mind games and all, it seems it’s just all falling into place and he’s pleased. “My sweet maid.” He calls out softly, his free hand managing to reach out to pet the top of your head as you stay kneeling between his legs. It coaxes you to lean down so it’s easier for him to pet you like some animal, making you silently wonder why you like the feeling of it. Why were you so foolish to call yourself his housekeeper for years when you were more than that? Being his maid is special. Intimate. It means you can do everything for him and he’ll keep you under his protection in return. “Go on, baby. I know you want to touch my cock and it’s cause of you that I’m so hard. Make me feel good…” He smiles to himself. “Paying your bills after all and taking care of you.”

That’s right! You can’t just keep sitting here in absolute awe when he’s waiting for pleasure in return for his help. Besides, he’s even further correct on you wanting to touch him with your virgin hands. You laugh shyly, fingers curling around the thick base and feeling it throb from your touch. The very tips of your fingers just are able to make contact. “I’m sorry, Master. It’s just— I’ve never seen… Only in media, y’know. You’re just so— Huge. So pretty.” You purr, now tenderly stroking along the length, making sure to touch every single inch.

His abdomen tenses from the touch, exhaling low through his mouth as he feels the pleasant warmth of your palm as you stroke gently. He closes his eyes for a moment. Satoru can feel your hand dragging, causing friction from the lack of lubricant. He briefly looks towards his drawer where he knows there’s a barely empty bottle of lube. He uses it a lot to the thought of you and now that he has you? Perfect. “Spit on it, baby. It will make me feel good. Take your time, do what feels natural.” The gentle order falls from his lips as he sighs. Usually, he’s an impatient man who’d just love to bend you over and rail your ass until you’re crying but this is his first time with you. He may have perhaps manipulated to get his way but he’s not going to rush such a perfect moment. Especially when your hand feels so snug and warm.

Spit on it… Right. You’ve read somewhere that dry friction is somewhat unpleasant and so you lean down, tongue hanging out just over the pretty tip and saliva begins to pool, slowly dripping out until you’re practically drooling over his cock. The pair of you actually moan together at the filthy sight, feeling the spit meeting the top of your hand and you begin to stroke until you’re coating his throbbing member with your own spit, pleased with the way it glistens beneath the light of the bedroom, making his cock entice you in further. You pick up the pace of your strokes, wrist twisting each time you slide your hand up and down. Your thumb rubs against the sensitive tip and he grunts, hips stuttering in response as the pleasure leaves him tingling.

You’re a natural when it comes to giving Satoru a handjob. His eyes nearly falling shut; half-lidded gaze focusing on the sight of your hand quickly stroking along his shaft, smearing the saliva that you continue to let drool out onto his tip. Satoru is breathing deeply, nails scraping against his own scalp as a pitiful attempt to contain himself through the gentle waves of pleasure. You’re still on your knees between his long limbs, though leaning down and ass pushing up into the air, appearing so inviting. You keep your face close to his throbbing cock, wanting to memorise the pretty sight and how it feels heavy against your palm. Wrist continues to twist with each stroke before you hear him groaning out your name. You feel pleased to be able to give your Master the pleasure he deserves.

You whimper in question when his hand grips firmly onto your hair, glancing up at him. Suddenly he’s pressing your face against the underside of his cock and you could feel your own spit against your face. “Use your mouth.” He pants out heavily, eyes swirling with victorious lust. You’re quick to oblige, mimicking with what you did before by dragging your tongue slowly along the underside, tracing along a vein until plush lips press against the pretty pink tip. You already find yourself loving the taste of him, craving more. You kiss sloppy innocent kisses to the leaking tip before you wrap your lips around it, suckling on it gently as you look up towards your Master.

Satoru rolls his eyes at the wet warmth of your mouth and your daring tongue sliding across the sensitive head. He waited far too long, mind momentarily wishing you were desperate for him to save you earlier. He’s a sick individual and gives no fuck. Being selfish gets him what he wants and that is every part of you. You look up towards his face with absolute adoration for the older male, tongue lapping at the tip and swirling around like it’s your own personal candy to enjoy. You’re unable to stop the soft moan from escaping and he inhales sharply when he feels the vibration along his thick cock. One hand continues to stroke and lovingly squeeze around the base of his length, mouth parting wider as you take more of him into your wet cavern.

Your jaw is tense, locked in place as you slide your mouth up and down the very first few inches, feeling it rub against your inner cheeks. You find that you already have to slurp up the large amounts of saliva that seeps out. Satoru feels himself twitch in your mouth, one arm briefly draping over his eyes as he focuses on nothing but the sweet wet mouth that surrounds his raging erection. His face scrunches up as the pleasure surges through him, groaning softly. He brings his hand down to firmly grip your hair from the back of your head, eagerly pushing down. Satoru knows that it’s so wrong to urge a virgin to go beyond their comfort levels but, your mouth is too heavenly to ignore & to be frank, he knows he’ll get away with it because of the ‘special’ situation. Hell, he knows that urged him to do it.

Your eyes widen as you feel the force against your head, whines muffled by the aching tug on strands of hair. For him— Satoru, the one who is giving you everything; you’ll do it for him. Happily. Inexperience and nerves be damned. You try to widen your mouth, gagging audibly when the tip of his thickness brushes against the back of your throat, choking as you pull away to look at him with wide eyes, spit mixed with pre-cum smeared and dripping from your chin. “M-Master, it hurts my jaw. I don’t know what to do, I really want your cock. I want to give you pleasure.” You plead breathlessly, eyes stinging with tears. You can’t screw this up.

It does the opposite of screwing up. Satoru is just so happy to not only have you, but a virgin to shape and play with. You’re going to accept anything he throws your way like a dog with a bone. “Baby girl, so inexperienced. Where would you be without me? You’re so lucky that I love to guide you through things.” He murmurs, fingers gently caressing along your jawline, leaning up on the elbow of his other arm. “Other men would find you so embarrassing but I just adore your innocent eagerness to please me. Just relax your jaw, Y/N. Relax as you take me in, okay? You’ll find yourself better at it than forcing yourself. I know my cock is so big for your cute mouth but you’ll take it all, won’t you? For me?” He explains, watching your eyes light up from the ‘teaching’ and helpful information.

“Of course, Master! I won’t dare miss any of you! Every inch of your beautiful cock deserves to feel pleasure. I can do it.” You insist, tears of worry glued to your long lashes. He has to tilt his head away to mask his look of disbelief. A true jackpot. Satoru simply nods to give you permission to continue. Your body muscles soften when you realise he isn’t giving up on you. The deal or whatever is still in motion and you’re just so thankful. He’s right that others would have rejected you. His kindness deserves to be shown your gratitude. Your plush lips wrap once more around the tip, bobbing your mouth up and down the first few inches slowly, eyes focused on him and the way his chest seems to stutter with his heavy breaths.

You squeeze your hand around the base before you start to slide your hot mouth down further, listening to his words from before and just relaxing into it. You close your eyes, nose scrunching slightly but you fixate on the taste of his cock against your tongue that caresses the underside of his twitching length, head tilting as you take more in. You find that you’re lacking oxygen with your mouth stuffed full and start to breathe through your nose. Saliva continues to dribble out, keeping that beautiful sheen over his cock whenever the spit meets the bedroom light. Even with advice in mind, you can’t help but gag on his throbbing cock whenever it presses against the back of your throat.

It’s become one of his favourite sounds. The sound of you choking on his fat cock, only eager to take every part of him. “Mm, fuck… Good girl, doing so good.. Fondle with my balls as you suck like the filthy girl you are for me, baby.” The dirty words just fall from his lips so easily when he feels the velvety feeling of your inner cheeks rubbing along his cock, brows furrowed as his hand returns to your head once more to push. Usually, such words may have shocked you but now with lips stretched so wide around his girth; you discover something new. You love his dirty talk. You worship every single word he says like nothing else holds value. It’s like he is your Go—

You’re yanked out of your loving thoughts when he snaps his hips up, now being the one to force his thick cock down your throat. He’s allowed to do whatever he wants, after all. Your hand cups his balls to tenderly fondle as you breathe heavily through your nose. A few droplets of tears glide down your warm cheeks, feeling the ache at the back of your throat as he keeps his dick stuffed down the warm hole, groaning out happily from the pleasant feeling. He can feel the way your throat muscles constrict and tighten around his invading cock, only driving him further as he begins to fuck your mouth, hand firmly on your head to keep you in place. He’s sliding his cock against your wet tongue, head tilting forward to see the pretty sight of you in tears and struggling to breathe properly.

“Such a cute virgin.” He pants out, causing your heart to flutter, happy that he’s able to find your inexperience and struggle cute. It didn’t matter to you at all, the painful ache and continuous gags rising up loudly whenever his erection slid out to let that moment of air before quickly taking it away from you. Even with your throat acting as some guard to prevent him from going further couldn’t stop him. No, Satoru would just push on your head as his hips snap up rapidly, grinning lightly from the wet squelching. Your nose keeps pressing against his stomach, muffling your needy sounds. The white-haired man coos mockingly when your hands flail, not knowing what to do with them as he fucks your open mouth roughly.

“Come on, baby. Put them to use. You wouldn’t want to make a mistake and lose your chance, would you? Even worse, you wouldn’t want to lose me.” He hisses out lowly, head tilting back as he moans, thankful for his own stubbornness to hold out just that bit longer. He wouldn’t leave you, but he sure loves to see you in momentary fear. The words send you into an internal panic. No! No, no, no! You don’t want to lose your Master! One hand quickly grips the side of his toned thigh to caress, the other returning to squeeze lightly and fondle his balls lovingly, eager to make the male happy.

Satoru’s eyes roll, widening for a moment before closing tightly. He can feel himself approaching his high quickly as his hips continue to snap at a fast pace to fuck your mouth nice and deep. If your mouth feels so good, Satoru couldn’t wait too long to stuff your virgin pussy with his monstrous-sized cock. It’d be even better. You feel lightheaded from not being able to get the proper amount of oxygen and it feels rather nice. Fuzzy. Nicer if you think about how much you trust Satoru and that he’s clearly loving your mouth. You’re happy to be so useful with just one of your holes. Still, it doesn’t stop you from choking, swallowing around his length as it slides beyond your cheeks and down until you can feel it when your hand quickly touches your throat. You could feel when his cock makes your throat bulge and hurt, tears and spit causing you to look like a hot mess already. It’s a miracle you chose today to not wear make-up, you would have had mascara running down your cheeks.

“Fuck— Fuck, Y/N. Take it. Be a good girl—“ Satoru gasps sharply, both large hands gripping onto the sides of your head to prison you in that only spot. A wave of ecstasy washes over his long body, causing his muscles to tense up and shake slightly as his cock finally pumps out ropes of sticky cum that paint your throat white. You breathe heavily out through your nose, eyes wide and frantic from something new filling your mouth and you have no other option but to swallow.

Why does it taste so good? You taste the saltiness of his cum and it lingers even as you happily swallow each drop that he’s blessed you with, feeling so special. You are, after all. He chose you and in return, you’ll be happy to receive anything from him if it means giving joy back. His nails scrape along your scalp, moaning deeply as he simply enjoys riding the wave that is his orgasm. Half-lidded gaze once more and he looks at you, cheeks puffed out from being pumped full of his cum, watching intently as you refuse to let any dribble out. Fucking hell, what did he do in his past life to be able to witness this?

He guides your head up and slowly off of his cock that slaps against his stomach once free. It already starts to twitch just as he watches you sputter. You’re dry-heaving deeply, hands gripping onto his thighs for support and feel relief for a moment that you can breathe through your mouth. You cough, strings of saliva still connecting to his sloppy cock and you wipe them away, trying to wipe your face clean. Your saliva mixed with his dry-cum already feels dry and crusty on your face. You must look awful, causing you to raise your hands to pitifully hide. Instantly, Satoru’s hands grip your wrists as he shifts to sit up with you, staring heavy and firm.

“No hiding.” He warns before his gaze softens, leaning in. “I think you look even prettier when you’re all messy like this. All thanks to me.” Satoru reminds gently, massaging small circles against your wrists. You feel your heart leap from his words, looking at the white-haired male so fondly. Master. Saviour. “Th— ank you.” You manage to rasp out despite your abused throat aching. Satoru coos endeared entirely because of you and presses multiple kisses to your swollen lips. He could taste himself. “How’d I taste, my sweet maid? You better expect more.” He chuckles gently, nose pressing against your temple as he inhales deeply. He could smell your sweat laced with your favourite perfume and silently thanks the heat.

You don’t realise it but your eyes light up at his words, giddy from realising this isn’t the end. Your nerves may never be conquered until it’s over and you have given your true first to him but, you couldn’t deny that you actually enjoyed having him inside your mouth. Especially when he started taking control and you just had to take it. Mess and all. Maybe it’s scary for a virgin to be thinking this but… It just feels like this is what you’re destined to do. To truly serve Gojo Satoru. He’s offering to pay your bills, too. A bonus, really.

“Your cum… It’s my favourite taste now.” You confess sheepishly and his ego just explodes from hearing that, toned arms wrapping around you to pull him down into his crushing embrace. You giggle happily, pleased by his reaction and press loving kisses to his sharp collarbone, hand between bodies coming down to caress along his length lightly. “I’m not afraid to continue, Master.” You express, worried that he might think otherwise. You can’t lose this. “I want you.” You whine, pressing into his bigger form.

Satoru is smirking over your shoulder, hand rubbing along your back. You’re still clothed and finally, he’ll be able to really see everything and burn it into his mind. Fantasies no more when he has the real deal being shaped into craving him and wanting to do everything he says. “You want me. I always knew you did. It was written all over your pretty face. Especially when you’re so scared and desperate, hm? You just want me to take over, so you can be my cute little maid who doesn’t need to think.” Satoru whispers, lips brushing against your ear. His long fingers now coming down to run along the edge of your booty shorts, smiling when you squirm. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks from the white-haired male reading you a bit too well, leaning into his touch.

“Soon, we’ll make love.” He says, eyes focused on your reaction. There it is. He can say the way your eyes cloud over and lips curl into a smile. You’re far too easy to trick and Satoru thinks to himself that if any other person tries, he’ll destroy them. You are his to mess with. “First, though... Let me make you feel good. Get you all relaxed and comfortable.” Satoru purrs against your ear before he lifts himself up to stare down at you, feeling eager like a puppy for a treat. You are his treat. All his for the taking. You give him a questioning look, fully expecting him to just yank your clothes off and shove his length into your virgin hole. That’s what you’ve seen in the media. That’s what your friends tell you when they gossip about their sex lives. Sex is something rushed and mostly for men to feel good.

How wrong you were. You close your eyes tightly, waiting for what you expect to happen, but nothing does. Satoru is gazing down at you and he’s no mind reader but he basically could read you from how you’re behaving. Ha. Every moment just seems to reward him with something. You, the one that he has been craving deeply for a long time, happen to be a virgin and not only that, you’ve clearly been watching the wrong set of media and have the pitiful thoughts that it’s just for a man to fuck a hole. He gets to be the one to teach you that it is so much more than that. You won’t view him the same as other men, but someone above them. He’ll get to trick that pretty little mind of yours that he is one of a kind and to never let go of him. You’ll truly believe that no one else can take care of you and you’ll be happily devoted to him. Call him confident or cocky, Satoru doesn’t care when it’s true. Besides, he really thinks no other man can compare to him.

His bigger form leans down over you, warm breath fanning against your neck before he begins to leave a trail of wet kisses, tongue teasingly dragging along your soft skin and teeth nipping at it as well. You squirm a little, raising to rest a hand against his broad back, feeling the way his muscles move beneath your palm and you sigh out softly, already feeling all tingly. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Master? Why aren’t you?” You question quietly, words trailing off as a needy moan escapes you. He’s sucking harshly on the flesh, making a dark bruise starting to form as he pulls away, looking down at you. He laughs, one hand cupping your chin and long fingers squishing your cheeks together until your already swollen lips pucker up.

“Make love.” He corrects deliberately, though you’re of course utterly oblivious and just look up at him in complete awe. “You don’t need to worry, Y/N. I’ll be making love to you and you’ll be free of all worries, I’m doing all of this for you. Remember?” He waits for you to nod before pecking your lips, teeth latching onto your lower lip to suck on gently before pulling away, saliva connecting your lips with his once more. “I want to take my time. You’re new to all of this and you clearly don’t know what sex is really about, my pretty girl. I’m here to show you.” He says before returning to kiss your neck sweetly, one hand slowly unbuttoning the last few buttons of your work shirt.

You couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on your visage, arms wrapping around his strong body to cling onto as you feel his lips on your neck, whimpering occasionally from feeling the light ache of him sucking harshly until for hickeys to form. You really struck gold and to think that your world was going to crash and end in just a few days. Not only is he saving you by paying bills; but he’s going to make your first time one to remember. Even if it’s been a bit rough with the way he relentlessly fucked your mouth until you were gagging and choking for air, you discover that you… actually enjoyed it. You don’t want to trouble yourself with understanding why and just focus on the moment with Satoru as he gives it all to you.

The white-haired male sits up, long fingers pushing strands out of his crystal blue eyes before he grabs the hem of your shirt and begins to tug up. He didn’t have to ask as you obediently lift your arms up and that just makes his cock throb. Perfect. Satoru smirks behind the shirt that he lifts over your head and you can’t see his face, whining when it gets stuck on your head. “Take it off, I want to see you..” You plead quietly and Satoru laughs, pleased by your words. He’s a sucker for someone needy and dependent on him.

“Who chose this stupid uniform for you to wear—“ He huffs, yanking it off swiftly and you laugh with amusement, shaking your head. “Um, you did?” You tease the male lightly and he rolls his eyes. “Right, dumb choice that was. Personally, I like maid uniforms. They’re a lot cuter.” Satoru tosses the shirt aside, eyes lingering on the gorgeous sight of your breasts being pushed up by the bra. You feel your cheeks becoming hot and look off to the side. Maid dresses? That would be so inappropriate and yet, you don’t care. He’s right. They are cuter. “I think maid dresses are nice... I could wear them instead..” You suggest quietly, too flustered to look at him.

Bingo. Satoru can see the signs of you falling for him when you agree so easily and it makes him grin down towards you, eyes holding warmth. “Conversation for another time, Y/N. Right now, I want to focus on you.” He sighs as he cups your breasts over the bra to give a small squeeze, noticing the way your hardened buds press against the fabric. You whimper behind your hand as his expert hands continue to fondle, giving a harsh squeeze every so often and it feels so good— You even feel your pussy leak further with aroused juices, soaking through your panties and shorts. He cups the back of your neck with one hand to guide you up towards his chest other hand unhooking your undergarment before rather hastily moving you out of it, feeling the straps slide down your arms until you’re on your back again, breasts exposed to the tall male. “Fucking hell..” He mutters under his breath, hands cupping the sides of your boobs, loving the sight of how the squishiness fills the gaps of his fingers and presses your breasts together until he leans down to bury his face, happily nuzzling against the soft mounds.

You bring a hand up to stroke along the back of his head, a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment washing over you from the fact that the man in charge of you is clearly favouring your boobs right now. “Ah, are you a boob man? You must be.” You joke lightly, giggling behind your hand. Satoru snorts, peeking up at you. “I’m a Y/N man.” He answers, not caring if it makes sense. His hands continue to massage, thumb brushing against your sensitive buds and you whine, pulling on his hair until he groans. Your heart easily flutters at his words, keeping your head tilted up to gaze up at the ceiling, feeling a sweet daze coming over you as he gives your chest special attention.

Satoru’s tongue drags flat over your left nipple, swirling it around and flicking the tip against it, all the while his hand continues to pinch and twist the right, coaxing out mewls and moans right from your mouth and it sends excitement straight to his dick that is already starting to harden despite releasing cum so recently. Just the reminder of you swallowing his cum causes him to rut slowly against the king-size mattress. It’s cute, seeing you so reactive from this alone. His piercing gaze never leaves your scrunched-up face, lips puckered around the nipple to suckle on gently, long fingers squeezing the flesh harshly.

You whimper out for him; your Master. You could feel the cool air of the aircon drying the saliva that coats your breasts from him licking around the soft mounds, biting down on the flesh to scatter hickeys across. You’re like his own personal canvas for him to enjoy marking up and truth be told, Satoru is holding back in that department. He may get aroused by your fear but anything too terrifying could have you running. He needs to pull you in slowly until your devotion to him is unable to be tainted. Besides, Satoru also selfishly doesn’t want to expose you to everything that fuels him so you’ll keep coming back with eagerness for this new world.

It’s hard to stay quiet, feeling his tongue dance across each breast and sloppy kisses pressed against them. You quiver with pleasure floating through you whenever he makes contact with your nipples, trying so hard to not cover your face with your hands. Satoru lifts himself up, exhaling out loud and dramatic. “Your tits are the best I’ve played with.” He chuckles, glancing up to see your reaction. He notices your cute pout, prompting him to grin down at you, hand covering your left breast giving a squeeze.

Jealousy bubbles up inside of you and you try to frantically shake it away, thinking to yourself how silly you’re being. It doesn’t matter if you’ve had a big crush on Satoru since the dawn of time. He’d clearly see other women, maybe even men. He’s ridiculously hot and besides, he’s doing you a favour… Even if some little beast inside of you growls to possessively have him; you swat it away, desperate to keep the jealousy hidden. “Hmph, well.. Maybe it just means you need to play with them whenever you want to, Master. I am your maid, after all.” You say with a sweet smile gracing your lips and long lashes fluttering, drawing him in so easily. Satoru’s gaze is hot with passion, swirled with a sense of possessiveness. Truthfully speaking, Satoru hasn’t slept with anyone since the day he met you. He just cut them all off, imagining his hand as your tight cunt instead as he jacks himself off on a daily basis. Usually after bidding you farewell. Obsession at its finest and he knows.

He hums softly, suddenly giving your tit a swift slap to watch it jiggle and you breathe in sharply from the sting of pain that spreads across your breast. You didn’t expect it, though your thighs are now starting to feel sticky from how much your aroused slick just soaked your clothing. Confusion settles over you when you realise you enjoyed it and being the mind reader that Satoru is; slaps the other one, enjoying the numb feeling that spreads across his palm. You let out a whimpering gasp as the burning sensation spreads across, looking up at him in admiration. Your brows furrowed and lips parted, fingers gripping onto sheets. How does he know your body so well? How does he know you so well? You start to wonder… Were you destined to serve him and be blessed with a higher being knowing you to your core? To be able to let go and be taken care of in every way, including your body? You never thought pain could be so sweet and maybe it’s because it’s from Satoru.

The corners of his lips twitch as he watches you intently, endeared by the sight of you potentially coming to terms that you like pain by his hands. A masochist to his sadist self. He could never let go. Still, he keeps it minimal. Giving you only a taste of the world that could open up with him. One hand grips your hip, the other giving a few more fleeting slaps across your breasts, cock swollen just from watching them jiggle and you squirm beneath his grip, biting down on your lip as if that could prevent filthy sounds from escaping. The repeated harsh stings now become numb as he tenderly massages to ease the impact of his palm, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, whispering. “How’d I know that my innocent maid would be a slut for pain? Might be something I have to warm you up into taking more. You do look cute when you squirm from a mere slap.” The humiliation from his words settles over you, shyly tilting your head away to avoid eye contact.

It’s even more embarrassing because you didn’t know you could be physically more aroused and yet, you feel more of your juices seep out. Your body is clearly eager to take something more. Something a lot bigger. Satoru tsks lightly, a finger pressing against your chin to guide you back into looking at him. It’s only a warning. You watch as his large hands spread across the top of your thighs, nails digging into the warm flesh and pushing your legs open until your covered pussy is on display. “I sure hope it’s me that you’re so drenched for and not for having your bills paid. You wouldn’t be like that, would you? Is it the money that arouses you?” He feigns the insecurity with a sigh and you practically leap at the chance to reassure a man who has nothing but a huge ego and confidence.

“N-No! I mean— I’m thankful, Master. You know I am, but this is so much more! You’re taking care of me and showing me new things... I don’t trust anyone but you. Besides, it’s you that’s—… making me horny, not money.” You mumble out quickly, words slurring together. It’s hard to confess to your superior that you’ve been crushing on him since day one. All thanks to his good looks, kindness and irresistible charm. The fleeting moment of panic causes him to coo softly, pressing tender kisses down along your soft stomach as he bends over you, long fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your shorts and panties. “Of course, sweet girl. You wouldn’t be like that to me. So very horny and all for me. Drenched and I’ve barely touched you.” He teases as he uses his free hand to grip the side of your leg, guiding upwards and your other leg follows. His caress is a form of silence praise before he hastily tugs the clothing along the length of your legs until he’s finally able to toss them aside.

He was a lover of those shorts, really. Thankful to the heat waves for prompting you to ask for permission. Ugh, it was mere hours ago, but he clearly remembers his body being crushed by arousal just from picturing it in his mind. Now he’s eager for the soaked-through summer piece to be gone. Hands come up to cover your face quickly, overcome with a mixture of emotions. No one has ever seen you completely naked. Nor in such a vulnerable position. Satoru’s gaze darkens, though fond, as he witnesses you try to pitifully hide. His hands grip on the inner sides of your legs and gently forces them apart until he can finally see every part of you.

A shaky exhale escapes his parted lips, eyes rather manic and eager as he continues to look. He’s been waiting for so long. Too long, in his opinion. He wishes there was an earlier chance. Your legs drop back down onto the mattress on either side of his bigger physique. Your pussy is on complete display for Satoru. Even when he’s sitting up, he can see your excited juices coating the folds, droplets slowly dropping onto the sheets and the slick smeared across your inner thighs. Ego is through the roof, knowing that this is all because of him. Kissing. Fucking your mouth. Giving your breasts attention. Not much to take you dripping for him. Long fingers push white strands of hair out of his eyes, grinning to himself.

Satoru leans forward to take hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away. “No more hiding, I want you to watch what I do for you. I want you to see how good I’ll make you feel and no one else can do what I can, understood?” He asks, prompting you to frantically nod your head. “I understand.. Master? It’s— It’s going to hurt, right? What if I bleed? I’m a little bit scared, of just— you know..” You stumble over your words, looking off to the side. Satoru couldn’t help but soften. It’s hard not to, even when he’s usually gleeful from witnessing you be nervous. He may be sadistic and a huge manipulator but, he still cares so deeply for you. Feelings just don’t get tossed aside just because he’s getting his dick wet.

“Firstly, baby girl. I’m not doing that just yet.” He laughs lightly, lowering himself down until he’s pressing you into the mattress, forearms on either side of your head to hold himself up. One hand strokes along the top of your head lovingly, smiling down at you. “I promised to take good care of you, didn’t I? So that doesn’t mean selfishly shoving my dick inside of you. Though, the idea is hot.” He pauses, letting you giggle softly in disbelief at his crude words. “It means preparing you and coaxing you into a state of complete bliss. Besides, I’m a lover of eating out.” He purrs lowly, kissing along your jaw lightly, nipping at the flesh. “Also, not every girl bleeds so you might not. You’ve really been so poorly educated and believing misconceptions, but I’m here for you now.”

It’s somewhat embarrassing that you believed things so easily. Truthfully speaking, he’s sadly right. You’ve never been the type to just deeply dive into the world of Sex. You always thought of it as something you’d wait for the right time to properly experience it. You just knew what you’ve heard from gossip and media. Naivety at its finest. Still, you have Satoru now. Teaching you everything right and how sex isn’t just revolving around a male’s pleasure. Satoru is a true man and it feels so right to give him everything, despite the circumstances.

Wait— Eating out? You feel yourself feel hot all over from realising what else he expressed. Is he really going to do that? Fuckboys in your past who have tried to win you over; often said that shit is gross. Yet, Satoru loves to do it? You laugh out shyly, hand caressing along his toned back. “You’re so bold.” You mumble, eyes becoming half-lidded as you focus on the pleasant feeling of the tall male trailing kisses down the length of your body. He takes his sweet time with it. Each kiss is tender and loving. It feels as if he’s trying to reassure you that everything will be okay. Satoru easily shifts his body down with each kiss until he’s laying on his toned stomach, face hovering over the heavenly sight of your dripping cunt.

You feel the warmth of his breath fan across your pussy and it’s like your body acts on its own; pussy clenching around nothing. Is he really about to? Your hand quickly comes down to grip his hair, causing him to grunt in question, looking up at you. Flustered, you squeeze your legs against the sides of his head as if that will stop him. “You’re not really? I might taste bad!” You whisper loudly and frantic, trying to pull him away by the hair. It only fuels his eagerness. Satoru doesn’t even speak, arms just snaking around your quivering thighs to forcefully hold them apart before he leans in and finally, drags the flat of his tongue between your slick folds.

Pleasure jolts through you like electricity from the first touch of your pussy by another, causing you to gasp sharply, fingers through his hair trembling. The corners of his lips curl up, smiling against your pussy before he continues to slowly drag his tongue between your folds, moaning at the sweet taste that fills his mouth. “So fucking sweet..” He mumbles, words muffled as his lips press against your cunt, slurping loudly and devouring you for the first time. His nails dig into your thighs, tongue swirling around your sensitive clit and you couldn’t stop the needy whimpers from escaping.

Everything felt so new. So good. Your hips buck upwards every time there’s pleasure just surging through you, directly from your core. He firmly holds you down against his mattress, refusing to pull away. He doesn’t dare to stop now, after finally capturing what he’s been chasing for years. Satoru kisses your clit before sucking gently, tongue flicking against the nub and you cry out loudly for him. Completely blissed out already, hands desperately gripping his white hair as a way to ground yourself as your head tilts back, chest arching upwards.

Satoru feels as if he’s in heaven with you. Just from the sweet taste that overwhelms his mouth from how much you’re leaking, to your adorable needy sounds. The painful tug on his hair only drives him further, pressing his mouth firmly against your cunt as he makes out with it, lips moving hungrily as his tongue continues to tease the clit or drag along your folds. It’s as if he’s scared that your excited slick will go to waste. He couldn’t let that happen. Selfishly, every drop is for him and him alone. He unwraps one of his arms from around your thigh to bring towards your womanhood. Two long fingers part your folds and he curses from seeing the strings of your excitement, tongue dragging between to break them.

You whimper, toes curling as a way to try and not be overwhelmed by the pleasure. Impossible not to be. You could hear the loud sounds of him slurping up your mess as he eats you out with so much desperation, gasping loudly when his thumb pressed against your clit to rub gently in a circular motion. “Fuck, I’m so obsessed with your pretty pussy. Taste so sweet, baby. Want to devour you always.” Satoru groans breathlessly, feeling intoxicated from your taste alone, watching with great fascination as your slick coats his fingers. It only leaves him wondering what it’d be like to be inside of you, buried in deep to the hilt.

“Master, ah—! Why does it feel so goo’…” You slur out happily, body so much more relaxed compared to just moments ago. Your eyes roll as he continues to rub his thumb against your clit, pressing sloppy kisses down along your folds until his tongue meets your entrance. He teasingly continues to drag his tongue around it and you couldn’t stop from doing tiny kicks of frustration against the mattress, wanting more. He laughs mockingly at your eagerness. “Look at you now, all you want is me, isn’t that right? Can’t live without my touch.” His words are muffled, squirming from the feeling of his lips moving against your cunt as he talks. You pant softly, tongue lolled out and eyes unable to focus on anything.

Satoru is right. He’s always right. Of course, it’d only take one touch; one caress and even a simple kiss to drag you into his depths, tangled and completely devoted to him. His talented mouth washing away all your worries you have of losing your virginity. Bills be damned. He takes care of you so well. The only one who takes care of you. Satoru is the one you wish to worship like your own God. He presses sloppy kisses to your clit, one finger caressing your hole before slowly pushing in— And fuck, he could feel your velvety walls stretch around the new invasion but wrapping so snug and tight. He wishes it was his cock already.

Your brows furrow, lips parting slightly as you feel his long finger sliding in so easily, thanks to your slick and relaxed body. It’s a new feeling. It’s not too painful, easing your worries further. Satoru didn’t wait to start moving his single digit, sliding it in and out of your warm tightness slowly, voice low and soft. “You’re doing so well with everything, Y/N. Such a good girl, not scared of anything. You trust me that much and I’m thankful, will only reward you with pleasure.” Satoru continues to take his time with pumping his finger, forehead resting against your quivering thigh for a moment as he fixates on the sweet feeling of your walls squeezing around. It takes everything within him to not pin you down and just have his way. It’s not just about him and never will be, even if he enticed you this far.

With a glance up towards your face and noticing how buzzed out you appear to be from the pleasure, Satoru slides his finger out, now pressing two of his fingers against your tight entrance. His tongue swirls against your throbbing clit as a distraction, sliding both of his fingers slowly, feeling your walls stretch even further. You whine from feeling your pussy stretch around his fingers, head tilting to the side to nuzzle against the pillow that smells of him, closing your eyes. There may have been a further stretch but everything still feels so fucking good as he pumps the two digits at a slow pace, sucking gently on your clit to further the pleasure.

You look so perfect in his eyes. Satoru is thankful to both destiny and himself, to be able to get you to this position and able to open your eyes to the world of pleasure. The world of sex. He angles his fingers as he picks up the pace of fingering you, desiring to find a certain spot. It didn’t take long at all, he realises. You cry out in surprise from feeling a more intense jolt of pleasure pierce through your body from your core, fisting the sheets and your hips start to roll, grinding down against his fingers. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru curses repeatedly from witnessing the slutty sight of you now starting to fuck down against his long fingers. The very same fingers that rub against your sweet spot, causing moans to fall from your swollen lips, eyes clouded with new-found lust and your slick pooling out practically from how excited you are.

The lower half of his face is smeared with the same mess, pressing a final kiss to your clit before he moves himself up so he could hover above you properly, caging you in once more. The squelching sound of his fingers slowly fucking into you doesn’t embarrass you anymore and he only finds it to be hotter. You snake your arms around his neck to cling onto him, lips dragging along his broad shoulder. “So fucking pretty and all mine..” He breathes out, slowly inserting a third finger to properly stretch you out for him.

Your face scrunches up from feeling the subtle pain of your walls stretching out around the three long digits. He hushes you gently, lips to your temple and you could hear him mutter praise. It leaves your heart thumping fast with joy that the praise is for you and not some other girl. It’s all you. You feel his three digits drag along your velvety walls covered in your juices, the subtle pain slowly subsiding and turning into pleasure. It feels so good, the way they slide in and out. To be able to reach deeply but, it makes you wonder how deep his cock could go. You whimper, tightening your hold as you look up at him in complete admiration.

He cares for you so much. It’s that thought; the one repeating in your mind like a mantra that makes you realise. You’re ready and you want it now. You want him to finally take what you’ve been slowly craving to give him. You squeeze your thighs around his wrist, stopping his fingers that are buried inside of you. Satoru looks towards you, his free hand stroking along your hair lightly. He grins a little, unable to stop himself. “Ready, are you?” Finally. Satoru pulls away, fingers sliding out of your core, inspecting them. Strings of slickness connect his long fingers together and not wanting to waste a drop, slowly drags his tongue along his fingers to lick off your juices with a hum. Feeling flustered, you look away from the hot sight. He chuckles lowly and shifts himself until his cock is positioned near your womanhood but not quite. He’s pretending to reach towards his drawer. “Condom, I suppose.” He says and your hand whips out to grip onto his wrist, looking up at him. Satoru had a feeling that you’d stop him. Call him crazy, but he knows you pretty well. He feigns surprise, eyebrow raising.

“You don’t want me to use a condom?”

“Nn… No, I want to feel you properly.”

“Ah, is it because I’ve slept with others and used condoms?” Satoru teases and you huff, squeezing his wrist. Perhaps he’s sort of right. It seems your own selfishness is growing along the side of his and now that you’re in this position, about to give something special; you want to be the special one in his eyes. The chosen one. He laughs lightly, almost mocking, but really he’s endeared and quite pleased. This is what he wanted. “No condom when it comes to my sweet maid.” Satoru agrees before moving back, condoms lying forgotten at the back of his drawer.

One hand grips your hip to keep you in place as he positions his thick, pulsating cock against your pussy. He slowly grinds, watching in complete awe as his length slides between your folds, coating in your juices. You whine, sensitive whenever you feel him grind against your clit. One hand holds his cock by the base and he slaps his cock against your pussy with a happy sigh, head tilting back. ‘Fucking finally’, he thinks. Quietly, Satoru positions himself until his tip is pressing against your entrance.

Nerves flare up when you realise what’s about to happen and even though you deeply want him, you couldn’t help but wonder about the pain. He’s a lot bigger than three of his fingers. Noticing your nerves, Satoru reaches for your hand with his free one, lacing his fingers with yours and giving a squeeze. “The pain will go away quickly, baby. Do you trust me? You know I wouldn’t do anything bad. This is all for you… Everything is for you.” He says softly, the comforting words washing over you. You nod his head and smile gently, holding onto his hand. “I trust you, Master… I’m ready.”

With that, Satoru presses the tip of his leaking cock against your hole, brows furrowing as he realises truly how tight you are. It takes a little bit of force but he manages to nudge his tip inside of you and slowly begins to push his cock inside of you. You strangle out a cry, eyes widening as you look up at him in a mixture of emotions. Disbelief from how huge he is. The giddiness that you are finally giving him what he deserves to have. Pain from the wide stretch as your own cunt has to adjust to the new size. Tears glue to your long lashes, panting heavily to try and calm yourself down as your walls forcefully stretch around the new invasion. Something so much bigger than anything else before.

He’s squeezing your hand, groaning from feeling your velvety slick walls squeezing around his throbbing cock. It’s only a few inches but he pauses to allow you to adjust. Even though his body wants to act on its own and start jackhammering your tight pussy with his huge cock. You’re silently thankful that he’s pausing, nails digging into his hand as you close your eyes tightly. The tender strokes of his other hand aid you in relaxing. “My pretty girl... Sweet Y/N. It will be okay soon, I promise.” He reassures softly.

You eventually nod your head, a bit dazed by everything. With the sign to continue, Satoru pushes his hips forward. He slowly slides his length inside your core until he’s completely buried deep inside of you, every inch of him finally covered with the wet warmth of your heavenly walls. His muscles tense, head tilting back as he pants deeply from the sensation he feels, You choke on a moan of his name when he’s pushed deep inside of you and it hurts so badly to be stretched out to where you’ve never been stretched out before.

Satoru pushes through his selfish needs to lean down and embrace you, pressing loving kisses across your face, gently hushing you. “I know, I know... It will feel good soon, I promise. Baby girl, believe your Master. You trust him, don’t you? It will feel so good for you.” He whispers, keeping his throbbing cock still inside of you so your now non-virgin pussy could get used to the feeling. Thankfully, it’s not as bad as it could have been. You know that now. He did take care of you to feel good. To get that glimpse of pleasure and truth to be told, beyond the stretch? You love the feeling of being stuffed full of his beautiful cock. It makes you feel complete.

His large hands caress along your sides, lips brushing across your hot skin as he continues to help you ease into relaxing, forcing himself to ignore the way your walls keep clenching around his cock, wrapped around him so perfectly. You’re too out of it to be aware of time, but soon enough you start to move a little. It’s a signal for him to continue and that you’re ready for more. The white-haired male keeps his bigger body pressed against you, embracing you as he starts to move his hips, slowly fucking into you.

You whimper from feeling his hard length slowly slide within you. He doesn’t pull out of you entirely, thinking you’re not ready for it. Just keeping everything gentle and taking his time. Even though his hips stutter, eyes rolling at the pleasurable feeling that washes over him from your slick walls rubbing along his length. It hurts at first and you have to contain yourself through clenched teeth and nails digging into his hot flesh. You believe him that it will start to feel good and—

Oh… The pain is finally subsiding, being replaced with that pleasure that you’ve been hoping for. It’s subtle at first, leaving you all pleasant and tingly as you cling to him. You squeeze around his cock, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. He tilts his head to look at you, eyes swirling with lust mixed with something deeper that you don’t know. Satoru smiles down at you, leaning down to press his lips against yours to form a kiss as he picks up the pace of his cock thrusting into you. He’s right and always has been about everything. Foolish of you to have been nervous. The pleasure leaves tingles across your body as you feel his cock sliding in and out with ease from your aroused juices. He starts to move more, grinding down deep against you, hands cupping your sides to hold you. You moan happily into the kiss, fingers tangling into his hair to pull on. The ache that he feels only encourages him to move fast and deep. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So fucking good for me.” He moans against your lips before pulling away to look at your fucked out expression. Eyebrows knitted together to form a frown, lips open wide and eyes watery from tears that threaten to spill.

Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Satoru’s nails drag along your sides and you squirm, enjoying the light burn you feel from the nails scraping your skin. You spread your legs wider like you’re some eager slut for him to see everything and he loves it. He lifts his body off of you to finally witness the sight of his thick, long cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your velvety walls continue to wrap snug and tight around his length whenever he pushes in, dragging along his cock when he slides out as if your needy cunt is desperate to keep him deep inside of you. It feels so fucking good to be filled by him.

It truly is a beautiful sight to see his cock appear and disappear before his eyes, loving the pleasure that surges through him from his cock whenever he’s buried deep to the hilt. “You’re all mine, fuck. Can’t believe it’s taken this long. Pretty pussy clenching around me. Never had something so big in your life, huh? Look at it making you bulge.” The filthy words continue to fall from his lips between grunts as his hips snap forward, thrusting into your pussy hard. His hand presses against your lower stomach to feel his thickness fucking into you. There’s no pain anymore, minus the burn of his scratches and sting when his balls slap against your ass as he pounds into your wet heat relentlessly.

All you can see are stars as ecstasy just washes over you in crashing waves. One hand helplessly gripping onto him and you could feel your breasts bounce with each hard impact. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixing with the lewd sounds of your needy, high-pitched moans and his groans. You look at him in absolute awe, tears threatening to spill. He notices your expression mid-fuck and it only drives him further, each deep thrust of his throbbing cock becoming rough. “Fuck, god—” He curses and you cry out, latching desperately onto his words.

“Y-You’re my God!” You stutter out quickly, heart hammering from your confession. You couldn’t be in denial any more. He truly is your saviour, after all. Bills aside, he’s making love to you in the best way possible. A God does everything for their believers. He does everything for you. He took you in and eased your troubles. He’s giving you pure ecstasy in the form of his cock. Satoru has saved you. Satoru’s heart leaps from your words, driving to the point of insanity as he gazes down at you with pure satisfaction. You’re giddy from seeing how pleased he is, clinging hopelessly to the taller male.

“My perfect girl.” He huffs out, pulling his throbbing length out until only his tip is inside. Satoru didn’t even wait until he slammed himself in, feeling your slick walls gripping onto his cock, prompting you to scream out for him, tears spilling down your cheeks. To have you worshipping him and crying out in pleasure become his reality; leaves him feeling so happy. Happiness wrapped in his own ecstasy. You’re so happy as he continues to relentlessly fuck into you, feeling so empty whenever his cock slides out, only to pleasantly surprise you by filling your core to the brim again. It feels so fucking good. You swear you’ve never felt anything like this before.

Addiction for not only his cock but, the male in general begins to grow. Your fists grip the crinkled sheets to stabilise yourself as each rough thrust, though it seems to do nothing. His strength behind his thrusts is more than enough to cause your body to jerk upwards, moving against the mattress. As you continue to squeeze so sweetly around his pounding cock, Satoru pants heavily, completely tangled up in the pleasure that continues to surge through him, even causing his toes to curl. One hand fiercely grips your hip still, the other coming down to rub your clit. You strangled out his name, too blissed out to be embarrassed by anything. Not even how heavy you seem to cry from the pure euphoria that drowns you.

Satoru burns the image of you sobbing into his mind, wanting to forever remember the way your face scrunches up or how your eyes roll from the complete bliss and cheeks stained with tears. His thumb continues to rub in a circular motion, panting heavily and head tilting back, unable to contain himself like he could with other girls. No, you bring out the beast that resides within him. Relentless with his fucking and possessive growls parting from his lips. “All fucking mine, got it? No one else can have you. I’ll break them. This pussy belongs to me. You belong to me.” The white-haired male groans out, muscles tensing.

You’re barely able to process the hot words, only knowing it fuels your desire and happiness to be owned by the male. Your beloved God. Master to serve, always. Your stomach begins to feel tight, clit throbbing and with no true experience of an orgasm; even you know what rapidly approaches you as he fucks into your cunt. You squeeze around his length, whimpering loudly. Satoru can just tell when he looks down at you. Maybe from looking so fucked out by him and it makes his ego rise, but he’s eager to give you what you deserve for being so cute and obedient.

“Let it go, baby girl. Fall into it.” He whispers and you manage to tug him down so you’re clinging, trembling legs wrapping loosely around his waist for support. He presses a tender kiss to your temple, panting heavily and with his cock sliding out to the tip, he slams back into your warm hole and everything just seems to explode for you. Pleasure surges through your trembling body, leaving you gasping sharply and babbling out moans, unable to truly comprehend the ecstasy that you feel as you come around his cock. Your walls flutter, clenching repeatedly around his cock that starts to sloppily fuck into you. Your eyes are rolling, desperately gripping onto the taller male as your body continues to tense up before relaxing through a tremble. the intense orgasm easily overwhelming you.

Satoru hips stutter, driving himself further to his own orgasm as he feels your slick walls dragging along his thrusting length, pulsating around his thickness. His forearms pressed against either side of your head, panting heavily. “Fuck, good girl—” He praises you for climaxing, hearing the obnoxious squelching sound lacing with the slaps of his balls against your ass. With one look at you, Satoru slides out before sheathing his cock deep inside of you for the final time. His own waves of complete euphoria crash down on him and he moans out sweetly for you, forehead resting against yours as ribbons of white sticky cum start to fill you up. You feel so fucking full, stuffed with his throbbing length and his cum that continues to just pump inside of you, leaving you breathless and your head positively spinning.

Muscles like jelly, Satoru collapses onto you, trapping you down against the mattress and smothering you with his warmth, body light with sweat. Your breasts squish against his chest and fuck, even that makes him happy. He’s panting heavily, head resting next to yours and staying buried inside of you, not wanting to pull out. You still feel the bliss from your first proper orgasm, hand coming up to stroke along his toned back, letting yourself stay in the pleasant daze. He smiles softly, endeared by not only your gentle touch but the expression you wear. He leans in to scatter light kisses against your neck, hand coming up to tenderly cup your cheek. When he does manage to lift himself up, Satoru gazes at you with something you couldn’t quite figure out. It did make you feel all warm and happy though.

His thumb brushes tears away, kissing your forehead before he finally decides to slide out of your tight heat. You pout at the loss, feeling your hole clench now around nothing. His sticky cum already starting to seep out and smear across your thighs when you clench them together, wanting to stay full of his seed. He slumps onto his side, draping his arm across your body to pull you in. He actually got what he wanted and not only that, you’ve been shaped into someone who craves to worship him. That and, you felt good from him fucking your cunt. All wins in his book.

You shyly look towards him, rolling over to face him properly. A mixture of emotions begins to overwhelm you. You feel gratitude that he did this for you but, sadness seems to be stronger now. He only did this— He only made love with you because there was nothing else you could do in return for bills to be paid. What if you want more of him? Your bottom lip trembles and bring a hand up to wipe at your eyes. “Thank you, Master… For doing this. I know it— must be hard 'cause there was nothing else and I really appreciate that you’ll pay my bills so I won’t be homeless… And I’m even more thankful that you made my first time feel good.” Your voice is breathless, clearly, your throat is tired from all of the crying out for him.

His lips curl up into a knowing smirk, noticing the fear start to appear in your face once more. You want to rely on him. He leans up on his elbow, hand cupping the side of his face and he sighs, a little dramatically. “Yes, well. I’m always happy to help my sweet girl out. Don’t feel too guilty, you made me feel good. I really enjoyed myself, Y/N.” He says, free hand coming up to brush hair out of your eyes. He pretends to think deeply and you notice the frown appearing, eyes widening. “What? What is it? I’ll— I’ll do more if I have to? I want to. I don’t feel guilty, I really liked it.” You ramble out nervously, hand pressing against his toned chest. Deep down, you know it’s just you craving to touch him again. Satoru shakes his head, ignoring the way white strands of hair stick to his temples from sweat. His hand comes up to cup over yours, giving a loving squeeze.

“No, I just have an idea… Do you always want to worry about bills, Y/N? You’re always so stressed, I see it on your face all the time when you come to work. It concerns me. Every single day, your mind seems to be filled with your worries. Bills. Appointments. The potential threat of being homeless. Not being able to eat or time to wash clothes..” He trails off and you feel embarrassed that he seems to read your mind. It’s one of the main reasons you asked to wear shorts. Yet, why do you feel yourself starting to fill up with hope? What is this idea? “What is it, Master?” You whisper, leaning into him and eyes just showing are willing you are to be completely devoted to him. It’s a miracle his cock doesn’t start to harden for the third time. That would be pleasantly painful for him.

Quietly, Satoru laces his fingers with yours and brings them up to his lips, kissing your knuckles as his crystal blue eyes never leave yours. “Instead of being filled with worry, why don’t you live with your Master? Your God.” He emphasises, leaning in so his lips hover over yours. “I’ll take good care of you and not a single thing in that cute brain of yours will have to stress you out anymore. Just live day by day, happily by my side. Do whatever you want in your new home. You can continue to serve me, which I know you enjoy doing… In multiple ways, it seems.” He chuckles at his own implication and your heart starts to race.

Just the mere idea of living with him leaves you feeling ecstatic. It’s something you always wanted, really. You hated being so far away from him in the first place. You’d often think what if he needed you during the night? He cherishes you so much. Satoru has never been too strict with you. Always praising and spoiling you in his own ways. Wouldn’t that only grow if you lived with him? It excites you. Just the thought of always being around him. To be able to welcome him home from work properly. Besides, after making love with him… How could you not already crave more? Satoru waits patiently for your answer, pressing a tender kiss to the crook of your jaw. He already knows what you’ll say. He’s confident in that. Again, he selfishly thinks how you are meant for him, and he’s meant for you. You squeal softly, launching yourself at him and he manages to take hold of you, rolling together until he’s on his back and you’re on top of him, looking ever so pretty in his eyes; even with dried tears on your cute face and sweat coating your body.

“I want to live with you, Master.” You whisper, tears of happiness in your eyes. No more worries. Only comfort, peace, happiness and pleasure. Of course, the pleasure. Satoru smiles up at you, pleased with the success of his manipulation. All his for good. He remembers something. “Yeah? In that case, will you also wear cute maid outfits while you work?” He teases lightly, knowing you wouldn’t deny it. You nod eagerly, not bothered by how inappropriate that would be. You’re living with him as his ‘sweet maid’. Besides, maid outfits are cute; thoughts copying his from moments ago.

“Good girl. Now c’mere and give me a kiss.”

You oblige happily.

[retroaria]

hey! I'm not really into nsfw stuff- sooo would you like to do something soft with reo? 😭 like, idk, him as a husband or father so with a family? THANK YOU SO MUCH 💗💗

✮⋆˙ domestic reo headcanons ✮⋆˙

a/n: this is so brain rotted i can’t even lie i think reo is just so easy to romanticize. pure fluff.

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy !! - aria 💜 | •

✮ I actually love this because i headcanon that reo would be a great dad :D at the very least he’d be extremely supportive of whatever his children wanted to do in their lives. He wouldn’t force them to follow in his footsteps like his father and he’d use whatever devices he could to ensure they can comfortably follow the path they choose.

✮ Would post about all his children’s accomplishments, or if you guys didn’t feel comfortable posting the kids he’d still take any chance to tell everyone about it - even his teammates who literally don’t care that his son got the highest score on the spelling test (they’re happy for him though). He secretly enjoys scrapbooking for his kids but they’re “your books” and he “just helps you with it sometimes”. (he’s the one who took almost all the pictures and saved every piece of paper his kid has ever drawn on)

✮ Reo is a charming husband, so charming and sweet it’s hard to be mad at him. He’s a bit lacking in cleaning/caretaking capabilities when it comes to the home but he puts in the effort??? He tries his best and if he does a bad job he always makes it up to you one way or another. In all honesty, he’s probably already hired people to do that (forgot this man is inheriting a multi millionaire dollar corporation).

✮ Reo is however very good at taking care of children. Once he has a clear grasp of their needs, he finds it to be really enjoyable and fulfilling. He takes a lot of pride in whatever happiness and comfort he can bring to his kids. He hates the sound of his babies crying, not because it’s annoying (though he complains about that too) but because it genuinely hurts his soul. He can be a bit too worrisome about it sometimes - he’s totally the type of person to look up his child’s symptoms and freak out over seeing all the worst case scenarios.

✮ The one thing that reo particularly excels at is taking care of you when you’re sick. He can always tell when you’re not feeling your best and he immediately harps on you. He doesn’t know how to cook very well but he knows how to make a few different kinds of warm foods to fill your stomach and give you a little energy. He’d absolutely refuse to stay away from you (unless it was a seriously contagious illness or if you guys had a baby that could’ve gotten sick). Doesn’t care if you’re sneezing and coughing and wheezing, he wants to feed you and hold you and kiss your hot head until it cools down and everything is better again. His goal is always to make sure you get better as soon as possible and won’t let you do anything but rest and relax until then.

✮ Reo is an incredible gift giver! I’ve certainly mentioned this in another hc post, but he is always out and about buying you little things that remind him of you. If you guys have a kid that’s just more gifts he’ll have to get and the thought of that honestly excites him.

✮ Anything can happen but…reo with a daughter…guys….

✮ he would be the sweetest girl dad! would do everything in his power to make her believe she’s an actual princess and he’s just one of her loyal servants. Spoils her rotten and doesn’t feel bad about it.

✮ You’d have to explain to him how this could negatively affect your daughter and it would break his heart. He’d go into theatrics trying to refute it because “What do you mean I can’t let her have everything she wants?” and “What if she cries? You want me to make my daughter cry?” he gets it eventually, but remains reluctant lol.

✮ He’d love playing sports with his kids. Would try to get them into soccer but if they end up liking another sport he’s still just as hype. Isn’t initially familiar with the concept of letting the kids win but soon realized he has to level with the speed of their little legs.

✮ I don’t have any specific hc’s for him as a boy dad but he’d be just as great of course - he’d make sure his son sees how women should be treated based on how he treats you!

✮ If he could find a way to make you the total world ruler he would because he truly believes you’re the most capable person. He’s the kind of husband who lets you run things for the most part but is always there to step in when you need a break or if you just want him by your side. Would call for an emergency flight back home from whatever country he’s training in just because you said you didn’t wanna go to parent teacher night alone.

✮ He loves doing mundane tasks with you, but always tries to “make it a bit more fun” as he says - which basically means he puts away the clothes you fold while you listen to him crack really bad jokes at you, gossip about his teammates, or try to sing and serenade you with his MANY playlists he’s made dedicated to you. On days you both have nothing going on he follows you around the house like a lost puppy, which is slightly annoying but it also means you have four hands to do stuff because he’s a participator above all else.

✮ Reo always makes sure to show his appreciation for how hard you work whether it’s at your job, taking care of the kids/house, or both. He takes time alone with you very seriously, even as your lives get busier and your family grows he always makes sure there’s time for the two of you to just be together and be in love. Always jokes about how you guys need to keep the romance going. He has small romantic gestures that he indulges you in throughout the day: kissing you on the cheek, brushing your hair out of your face/tying it back for you if you if you need (taking his hair tie out for you to use), hugging you a little tighter just before you get up, running a bath for the both of you, massaging your shoulders while you talk.

to be fully honest with you guys, i have never in my life wanted to have kids so it was a bit hard for me to imagine what being happy with children would be like LMAO but alas i did my best. stay safe and stay cool. - aria :3