#someone get this man some brown contacts please

[hairdried]

tryna learn how to draw these dweebs!!

[mind-lost-in-the-stars]

for those of you who are are blessed enough to not be on the cesspool that is Twitter, Jon fucking Matteson is officially on he nice list <3

[maned-wo1f]

someone PLEASE get this man some brown eye contacts

[princessbellecerise]

Happily Ever After

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the Yandere!HOTD characters would react after being told by your father that they cannot marry you

warnings | Smut, mentions of pregnancy, yandere behavior, public sex, violence, mentions of death and sword fights

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Prince Jacaerys grows desperate upon being told he cannot marry you

The usual level-headed and reasonable Prince that people are used to seeing quickly goes out of the window and is replaced by a man desperate to do anything to have you

Not having you by his side was not part of his plan, and it’s simply not an option

Jace absolutely refuses to have anyone else as his partner, and he’ll be damned if you marry anyone but him

After being told no by your father, Jace begins to spiral

Anyone can see that the Prince is clearly not happy, and his behavior starts to become panicked and irrational

Rhaenyra tells him to let it go; to let you go but she doesn’t understand. How can Jace let you go when you’re everything he’s ever wanted?

He tells, no begs your father to reconsider, tells him that he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else but you

Jace tries to get him to see just how in love the two of are, but unfortunately your father still tells him no. And it’s nothing against Jace, he reassures the prince, but it’s just that—much to everyone’s surprise—your father has already made arrangements to betroth you to someone else

You of course have absolutely no knowledge of this, and you’re stunned when your father apologizes to Jace but it’s still a big, fat no

He sends you both away and tells you not to ask again because everything is final. And even when you burst into tears, begging your mother to not let him do this, your father doesn’t budge

“This alliance is vital for our House, Y/N. I’m sorry, but you will not be marrying the Prince.”

That night, you go to bed absolutely devastated and of course, you want nothing more than for Jace to comfort you. You wish to sneak out and go to his chambers like you normally do, but your father is smarter than you anticipated

As if he knew exactly what you intended to do, he asks Rhaenyra to place a royal guard at your door

No one is allowed in and no one is allowed out, which makes your plan of seeing Jace impossible

You beg and you plead, but the guard does not budge. He simply tells you go back to bed and alas, you do not see Jacaerys that night. Or any night after that

It seems that your father is intentionally keeping you away from the prince, whisking you away every time he tries to approach or arranging your schedule so that you do not run into him

Additionally, there seems to be a guard present for every little thing you do, so sneaking away isn’t an option

If you do so happen to even see Jace, it’s only through fleeting glances and the lack of contact begins to drive you both insane

You can’t stand being away from one another and time is running out. The only reason your family is in King’s Landing is because your father was there for business, but soon he will be finished and you’ll have to go back to your homeland. Without Jace, to marry someone else

The sheer thought of it gives you anxiety, but you’ve exhausted your pleas and by now you know that your father won’t listen

There’s nothing you or Jace can do to change his mind—or at least, that’s what you think

Two days before you’re supposed to leave though, a sudden knock on the door shocks you. When you open it, you’re expecting it to be one of your family members, but nothing—absolutely nothing—prepares you to see Jace standing on the other side; the guard knocked out, Jace’s fist bloody, and a wild look in his brown eyes

When you ask him what the hell happened, Jace responds by telling you that he can’t live without you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his

He couldn’t let you leave without doing something, and so that night, the prince takes you in every position that he can think of. Missionary, doggy style, against the wall, on the balcony

Anything to breed your pretty little cunt, anything to make sure that his seed takes

Jace hates it, he hates breaking the rules and as heir he knows what he’s doing is wrong

He knows that impregnating you while not being married could potential ruin him, you, and his mother. He knows how the greens would react to a bastard having a bastard, but he’s so afraid of losing you that he doesn’t care

Jace risks everything that night just to make sure that you stay by his side; and it works

A few days later, you still end up leaving with your family but on the journey back home you pray to the Gods that your plan works

You pray that Jacaerys’ seed takes root in your womb and to your utter excitement, you prayers come true

A few short weeks after returning home, you notice that your moon blood hasn’t come and you start to get sick nearly every morning

You’re barely well enough to attend any meetings with your so-called ‘betrothed,’ and it doesn’t take long for someone to catch onto your symptoms

When your maids discover what’s going on, they immediately tell your mother, who in turn tells your furious father

When you finally break the news, you swear that you had never seen him get so angry before. Had your mother not been holding him back, you were sure that he would’ve strangled you where you stood

Alas though, as much as he wanted to wring your neck he knew that harming the future Queen of Westeros would not be a wise decision

After all, there were no doubts about who the father of your unborn child was, and as soon as the news broke your father had furiously written to Rhaenyra and informed her of the situation

As soon you arrived in King’s Landing, you were all but thrown into a wedding gown, modified to fit over your stomach of course

But either way, you and Jace get exactly what you want—the opportunity to spend forever together, and six moons later, a healthy, chunky baby that just so happens to be born three moons sooner than anyone expected

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon is angry when your father tells him no

And it’s not just because of the rejection, it’s also because he knows—Aegon knows that the only reason he says no is because your father doesn’t think he’s good enough for you

In fact, your father flat-out tells him this, and to make things even worse, your father declares that you’ll marry his brother instead—the responsible, honorable Aemond

Like hell Aegon would ever let that happen

You are the one thing Aegon has that Aemond doesn’t. Someone to love and genuinely care for him, and Aegon isn’t going to let that go so easily

He has half a mind to draw his sword and kill your father on the spot for even suggesting such a vile idea, but you beg him not to. Despite heavily disagreeing with your father’s decision, you tell Aegon that there’s other ways to get him to change his mind that doesn’t involve bloodshed

Surprisingly, Aegon listens to you but you should’ve known it was only because he had already thought of something worse

You didn’t know it, but when Aegon lures you into his chambers the next day, he’s come up with a plan

He knows exactly how to get your father to change his mind, and his plan starts the moment he has you naked

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time you and Aegon have fucked so bedsheets are no use to him. No, your lover has to get a bit more creative than that

Somehow, Aegon convinces you to try something new and you end up bent over the Prince’s balcony as he fucks you from behind, his cock driving in and out of your slick cunt

It’s the middle of the day and what you’re doing is beyond risky, not only because you’re not married, but also because literally anyone could look up and see the two of you

You see, the Prince’s balcony just so happened to overlook the training yard, and though it was empty at the moment, Aegon knew exactly when it got crowded

All he had to do was wait for his chance, fucking you so good that you didn’t even grasp the situation

You were none the wiser as to what was happening, eyes closed as you basked in the pleasure. You moaned his name and clenched around his cock, feeling a familiar pinch in your stomach

Just as you reached your peak, you began to hear shouting from below

Startled gasps and a few screams had your eyes flying open, Aegon smirking as you caught the attention of at least twenty people—one of whom was your father

He stood, horrified as the prince locked eyes with him. Seemingly taunting him as he rutted into you, moaning and still fucking you against the railing

Aegon swore that he had never came so hard in his life—expect maybe on your wedding night less two days later, the memory of your father’s face and the satisfaction of getting what he wanted fueling what he calls, “The best fuck of his goddamn life.”

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon is amused upon being told no

He’s amused and it’s because he never really asked for permission in the first place. It was more like…a courtesy warning, and he only did it because he knew you were too scared to tell your father yourself

After all, the Rouge Prince has a reputation and it’s not exactly squeaky clean. Daemon’s track record with his wives is why your father said no, but he should’ve known that no isn’t in Daemon Targaryen’s vocabulary

In fact, Daemon merely laughs in your father’s face, declaring that the two of you will be married in a fortnight, regardless of what your father says

Show up or don’t, Daemon doesn’t care—but you will be his wife

And of course, your father protests, appalled that the prince is so bold

He even goes as far as to complain to the King, but Viserys is old and weak. There’s seldom that he can do to fight Daemon anymore except threaten to exile him again, but Daemon isn’t afraid of punishment

He’ll gladly leave the hell hole that’s King’s Landing, but he makes it clear that if he does, Westeros will never see him or you again

He relays this threat to your father, and in his desperation to keep you away from the Prince, your father all but flees in the middle of the night. Making sure that no one except those loyal to your House know where he’s taking you

Despite your protests and your attempts to alert Daemon, you’re dragged on a boat and shipped off to a far away land, one where your father hopes the Prince will never find you

He even goes so far as to change your hair and make up a fake identity for you, but he was a fool to think that he could ever cross Daemon Targaryen

If the Prince wasn’t annoyed with your father before, then Daemon is most certainly furious when he learns that he’s all but kidnapped you

He sets to work on finding you almost immediately, and he swears once he does he’ll kill anyone that helped with this ridiculous scheme

He starts his search by fiercely questioning all of the guards and servants that were tending to you. And because he’s Daemon Targaryen, it doesn’t take long to get the answers he’s looking for

With one look at Caraxes, the so-called men that were loyal to your house end up folding pretty quickly. Daemon has them all but fighting each other to give up your location, though unfortunately their honesty isn’t enough to spare their lives

In his pursuit to get where you are, Daemon leaves a trail of bodies

He kills anyone that he suspects of helping your father, though his rage won’t be satisfied until he confronts the man himself

And what do you know—your father truly is a fool of a man because it turns out that he took you to Pentos. Pentos, the land where Daemon Targaryen lived for years

Why he thought that was a good idea, no one knows. Perhaps he thought that hiding you in plain sight would be enough to fool Daemon, but unfortunately the rouge Prince is much too smart for that

And due to all of the connections Daemon has in the city (and his dragon) it takes him less than a week to locate you

He finds you hiding just on the outskirts of the city, in some rundown village. You look miserable as you chat with some of the locals, hatching your own plans to escape and somehow get back to Daemon

Your father was asleep in the house that you shared, though the beat of Caraxes’ wings are enough to alert you both, your father waking up and running outside just as Daemon lands in front of you

The Prince wears a smirk of triumph as he dismounts his dragon, taking in your father’s horrified face and laughing

He enjoys the moment almost as much as he enjoys the way you immediately run to you, ignoring your father’s protests and shouts to come back

It’s obvious who you choose by the way you hang onto Daemon, hiding behind him while Caraxes roars

There’s a moment where everything seems to stand still, and Daemon drinks in his moment of victory before slowly gesturing you towards his dragon, helping you mount

As you climb onto the red beast, Daemon slipping in the saddle behind you, the last thing your father sees is the smirk that adorns Daemon’s face

Lilac eyes with with his own, and then, Prince’s lips utter a single word

“Dracarys.”

Lucerys Velaryon

Poor Luke is devastated when your father rejects his proposal

It took all he had to muster up the courage to even ask, and now he’s crushed that he won’t be able to marry the love his life

Not only that, Luke genuinely cannot see himself with anyone else. You’re it for him, and he’s determined to be with you no matter what

Call it young love or maybe just sheer stupidity, but one night Luke sneaks into your chambers and hatches a plan

He tells you that there’s a way for you to be together, a way for you to have your happy ending after all. All you have to do is come with him, and he’ll take you to a place where no one, including your father, can come between you two ever again

And that night, when you flee with the Prince on the back of Arrax, it almost feels like a fairytale. You’ve never felt more alive than you did as you watched the Red Keep disappear into the night

With your heart beating as fast as Arrax’s wings, you and Luke run away, neither of you thinking of the consequences, or caring

You’re just so happy to be together that everything else falls into the background. Caught up in your own bliss, you and Luke flee to Essos where the Prince has arranged for you to be married

Like he promised, no one is there to object or to stop you from becoming one. They’re all too busy in King’s Landing looking for you both, your mother distraught and your father wondering what happened to his youngest child

Likewise, Rhaneyra nearly collapses when she finds out that Luke is missing, but Daemon reassures her he’ll be back. He doesn’t know when, he tells her, but he has a sneaking suspicion that when he does you’ll be in tow

And what do you know—four moons go by and it turns out that Daemon was right. You and Luke return to King’s Landing after all, and upon arrival you’re greeted by your weeping mother and your

concerned father

They both have so many questions—where have you been, what happened, why did you run away?

And everyone is so focused on questioning you, so relieved that the Prince isn’t dead after all, that they almost miss the glaringly obvious bump that’s concealed behind your blue dress

Almost

You try to hide it as best as you can, but when your father pulls you in for a hug you know that he can feel it. The horrified expression he wears when he pulls away confirms this. And when you back away, placing a loving hand over your stomach and settling into Luke’s arms, that is when he also takes note of the matching Velaryon pins on your clothes

“We have something to announce,” Luke tells his mother excitedly

You both share a loving look, and Rhaneyra’s eyes are ready to pop out of her skull when Luke places a hand over your stomach and grins

“Y/N is with child.”

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond takes your father’s words as a challenge

Despite how irritated he is at being flat-out rejected, he decides not to lash out or show any emotion really

For Aemond, keeping a level head is important. It allows him to plan, to strategize like he’s always been taught and to be able to stay one step ahead

He supposes he’s just like his grandfather in a way, and it’s obvious that your father underestimates just how far Aemond is willing to go for you

The first man that your father agrees to betroth you to only lasts about five minutes in the duel Aemond challenges him to

The second fairs a little better, though not by much. By the third, your father is furious and it’s become a game for Aemond to see how fast his opponent can last before they ultimately meet their maker

He wears a smirk the entire time he’s fighting, easily ducking and dodging and occasionally striking which wounds the man heavily. It’s obvious that he’s going to win, again, and the sobs and screams from the Lord’s family are hard to miss

They sit next to you in the crowd that surrounds him and Aemond, and every time Aemond lands a blow your father flinches, muttering under his breath how it was a mistake to ever let you meet that man

You on the other are ecstatic, occasionally locking eyes with Aemond and sending him encouraging smiles

You pray after each duel that your father will finally change his mind and allow you to marry Aemond, but it’s not until after the fourth duel does he agree

After a particularly bloody and grueling fight, there are no more proposals. Every Lord that had ever considered asking for your hand is now too terrified to even speak to you, and with the lack of marriage offers your father has no choice but to admit defeat

He agrees to marry you to Aemond, and of course, Aemond feels victorious. He smugly thanks your father for his reconsideration, shaking his hand and promising that he won’t be regretting his decision

[moonstruckme]

ok yeah. i can't stop thinking about that doctor pls i need doctor remus follow up or something im dead

Based on this ask

cw: mention of giving blood, lightheadedness

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 447 words

You rouse to hands on your shoulders. Cold tile against your backside, and the hum of a nice voice. 

“Hi, love,” it says. The hands seem to get you where they want to, your neck and shoulders resting against something warm and soft. One cups the back of your head gingerly. “Could you open your eyes the rest of the way for me, please?” 

You think you’d do anything for someone who talks to you like that. The lights in the room are harsh, but a figure cuts through them, a man perhaps just older than you. His head, gentle features and a mop of tawny brown hair, hovers over yours. It’s then that you remember where you are. 

You’re at the doctor’s office, in the small private room they took you to for your blood draw, and you appear to be in this doctor’s lap. 

“There we are,” he says, using a hand to shield your eyes from the fluorescent lights. “I’m Remus. Do you know where you are?” 

“Doctor’s?” you mumble. 

Remus smiles. “Very good. I have some juice for you here.” He looks away from your face, reaching for something on the floor beside you. “Could you tilt your head down a tad to drink it, please? Yeah, like that. Thank you.” 

You drink from a juice box with his hand supporting your head. Remus encourages you to take small sips, wiping the corner of your mouth gently when you’re done. You worry you might faint again at the brush of contact; though, really, you probably ought to be more concerned about the contact you’re having with the rest of him. 

“It seems like you had some trouble with the blood draw,” he says in a kind voice. “Is that something that happens often?” 

You try out your voice, clearing your throat. “No. No, I’ve never done that before.” 

Remus hums. “Do you feel okay?” 

Honestly? You’re not sure. You feel deeply, horrendously out of sorts, having woken to find yourself in the lap of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. At the same time, you think you might be the best you’ve ever been. 

“I—I think so,” you manage. 

Remus gives you a little smile. “It would be perfectly normal to be a bit shaken up,” he says. The hand not behind your head has found your forearm and begun tracing small, seemingly thoughtless, circles into your skin. “Losing consciousness isn’t easy on the body. It’s alright if you feel out of sorts.” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, woozy all over again. “That must be it.” 

Remus hums sympathetically. “Let’s just stay here for a while, then. I’ll have someone get you a snack.”

[rensylph]

>>> 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒

< yandere zhongli x reader ( MAFIA AU ) >

You and two of your friends decided to go to a club to party and the start of your semester in the nation, teyvat. You got drunk and woke up naked in a grand mansion and a man holding your waist and nuzzling against your chest. You thought this would be a normal one night stand and will not be in contact with you but turns out the man has other plans

Warning : implied sexual intimacy, age gap, drinking

Imagine waking up in a hotel suite bigger than your apartment with someone nuzzling close to you, your clothes are scattered around the bedroom, an aching sting in your body lowest parts, a box of empty condoms And the worst hung over in your life.

When you were about to gather your clothes and leave before the person woke up, a hand grabbed your wrist preventing you.

The man has beautiful long locks of brown hair, ember eyes, handsome face features, and a well built body with tattoos of a dragon in his back and arms. Dang you struck gold.

He introduced himself as zhongli, he asked for you to stay a little longer and he will order room service

It was awkward to be honest, you did ask some questions about him but he always gives out a vague answer. As if he's trying not to reveal too much, you didn't pry about it though since he is just a one night stand plus you're in a foreign country there's a high chance you're not gonna see him anymore in the future.

He told his chauffeur to pick you up and drive you home. He seems very well known in the hotel staff every time they pass him they would greet him, it felt awkward of course.

His driver arrives and introduces himself as xiao and he opens the door to the car for you, before getting in he grab your wrist and put a note of his number saying that he had fun and wish to experience it more than one time and then he said he gotta go due to work and you get in the car.

The car ride was quiet and xiao seems to have no intention of making conversation it was just dead silent

And when you arrive at your dorm, your best friend lumine rush towards you and tackle you asking where you were, she said that when she was in the bathroom you disappeared and was entering a limo with a fine gentleman.

You didn't think much of it, since it's college and you have to focus on it. Recently many gifts and flowers were sent from mr zhongli. He even gave you an ember necklace that cost more than tuition. It was 4 million mora meanwhile your tuition cost 1 million mora.

You ask mr zhongli to please stop sending since it causes so much and you don't want to trouble but he just shrugged it off the amount saying it was a little amount and just accepted it.

I mean you do text him often talking about you guys days and meet from time to time but it's Always in fancy restaurants that always cause a fortune to have a table and reservation.

During one of these meetings he pulled out a beautiful ring with a large jade in the front with diamond encrusted around the metal, with two dragons engraving inside the metal.

He proposed saying after you graduated from college, you and him should get married. He will offer everything to you, you don't need to live in that small cramped dorm room you can live in one of his penthouses in the city, you will have xiao drive you and your friends anywhere, instead of eating cup noodles everyday and worried about money, he will have private chefs cook your favorite food as well giving you an allowance every week for you to spend, you don't need to worry about anything just said yes and he will take care of your needs.

It all moves too fast it's been only 6 months and he already wants to get married. You rejected saying that it moves too fast and say you don't see yourself being with him in the future. You said you need space and leave not before paying for your food and tipping the waitress and Mr zhongli just sit their stunt.

For the past few days after the accident you and him haven't talk in a week thinking, you're giving him space after the rejection.

Until when you were alone in the campus garden some one hugged you from behind and whispered in your ear

"if you don't follow me or obey my orders, I will kill everyone on this campus, this is your last chance to stop a massacre of your peers, this is an order "Marry me"

[gloxk]

just sitting here high asf thinking about getting the sloppiest head from aot guyzzz…*HEAVY ASS SIGH* let me wish upon a star hoping someone could write about this for me…*LONG HEAVY EXTREME SIGH.*

⁺ 　 . ✦ Favorite eaters ⁺ 　 . ✦

(Eren Y. Armin A. Connie S.)

A/N: ugh yes girl ik the feeling … im to sitting here wondering how nasty eren would eat the kitty…BUT ANYWAYS TYSM FOR 600!!! NEXT STOP 700!!! AHHH!

Synopsis: Aot men as your favorite eater.

━━━━━━━⚥━━━━━━━

♡ Eren ♡

Ughh omg..Eren giving you nasty head after he pissed you off…The type of head that makes you run away in shame!!!

“Givin me an attitude ain’t gonna get you anywhere, you know better den that.” Eren scoffed, while tossing a blunt over to you.

Oh boy how he was so undeniably wrong.

You could tell Eren was unamused with your bullshit. He wasn’t taking you ignoring lightly at all.

“You gon fix it or am I, figure it out.” he whispered in your ear. You stood on what you dished out, you weren’t fixing shit.

You chuckled at him in response, how stupid he was to think you were going to pipe down.

That was until he found his way between your thighs..

One hand tangled in his brown locs and the other one holding a blunt. Best combo..

You lazily rutted against his tongue while his piercing twirled against your puffy clit.

It was so hard to look him in the eyes after he made you cum on his tongue 3 times.

“Still got an attitude baby?”

Let’s just say..you ain’t had one after that.

♡ Armin ♡

Oh..lawd. I said this once i’ll say it A FUCKING AGAIN. Armin is a pussy eater expert. He’s VERY talented in that ‘field’..

This man has no problem eating it for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Hell, he will wake up and decide he’s hungry and start going crazy.

That’s how your morning starts..with Armin stuck between your thighs eating it so you can wake up.

Eyes barely opened and you’re already on the verge of cumming..his way of saying ‘goodmorning’.

He so eager to do it too. Sometimes yall could just be watching netflix and he will insist on eating you out.

“Well, I mean, the show is kind of boring. Just come on, it will be quick.” He’ll beg and beg, “Please, I know you’re tired, I can help you go to sleep faster!”

His contact name is NyQuil in yo phone! (If you know. you know .)

When he say fast..oh baby he mean fast. That tongue can move at speeds you didn’t even know existed.

But his favorite time to get to munching is before you go to work.

“We got 10 minutes Armin.” He don’t need even need 10 he will make you cum in 5.

♡ Connie ♡

Ex! Connie getting fucking wasted and coming back home and eating you till your cummin everywhere…

I just know he eats it with his grillz on..I just know.

You want nasty head? Connie is your man for it. He gonna make it SLOPPY SLOPPY.

“Baby whatchu mean, we supposed to be in love..” his words slightly slur, he had a fuck boy grin plastered over his face. “stop acting like you ain’t happy to see me.”

He wasn’t supposed to be there and he knew that. But you couldn’t stay mad at him for long, especially when he was telling you how much he missed you. “Cmere baby i’ve been missin you..” & “I know you mad at me lemme change that.”

if ‘Let my face be yo chair’ was a person…

Sitting on his face is a pleasure to you and him. He gets to see his (ex) girlfriend and you get some head.

A win win in your books!

You grinding against his golden grills while his hands rub your waist up and down. “You got such pretty moans, lemme hear em baby.” & “Uh-huh, let it out mama.”

He’s looking you dead in your eyes while doing it too…

“You made such a mess baby. Don’t worry go to sleep, ima clean it up.” UGH THIS MAN….

best ex ever!

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going absolute feral for these men it don’t even make any sense.

[jellicatty]

‧˚꒰ TRAFALGAR LAW FALLING IN LOVE ₊

╰┈➤ contains : trafalgar law x gender neutral reader. fluff. sfw. 908 words.

╰┈➤ note : he may be a bit ooc here huhu plz forgive me ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

— "You're interesting Y/N- ya"

• There’s only one thing you need in order to impress and catch the attention of Trafalgar Law: be smart. Body shape, body count, and looks do not matter to him. With intelligence alone, it’s easy to capture this man’s eyes.

• Once he’s attracted to you, expect to be showered with teasing remarks. Of course, not too many, just enough to make you flustered for the rest of the day. However, this does not mean he wants to be your significant other. Remember, this is Trafalgar Law we’re talking about. He wants to be sure if this is a feeling he wants to pursue.

• He knows the dangers of the New World and losing someone close all too well. So, I’m guessing he will never make a move (unless provoked by a near-death experience). Only stares from afar, small jokes here and there, and maybe some light touches too. It would be the end for him if you knew he was somehow attracted to you.

• You probably have to be friends before the whole ordeal happens. I can’t see Law falling in love at first sight or immediately after a few days. There has to be some deep trust and chemistry running between you.

— "This can’t be real."

• After some time, if his crush on you still hasn’t gone away, then he might consider thinking about it. Hard. Because there’s no way he, Trafalgar Law, could catch feelings for someone. He knew the day would come when he would eventually find someone and harbor feelings. But he didn’t expect it to be you, someone already dear to him.

• Well, he’s glad it was you. Since Law is a terrifying ex-warlord, supernova pirate, it would be extremely hard for him to have feelings for a civilian. Heck, he wouldn't even let himself, nor his crew, get close enough to a random person. It’s too risky.

• So he has feelings for you. Now what? He would be in full denial mode. He will deny it and will push you away. He’s angry and afraid of the connection blossoming between you two. Having lost so many people, from his own family and country to Corazon, his acknowledgment of his feelings would take a while. If he does stop pretending to be blind to his own emotions, a confession from him will be very unlikely. He’s taking this to his grave and no one can possibly know about it.

• His crew knows. Specifically, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. Bepo would for sure know about it first, then tell the other two about his assumption. Shachi and Penguin would quickly agree and start planning.

"Operation: get Law some game!"

• Law would be so annoyed if they knew because, first of all, only he has to know it. Second, what happens if you knew, huh? That aside, his advances towards you would be so awkward and… peculiar.

• Shachi and Penguin probably saw "Medical pick-up lines for your babe!" and gave it to Law.

• "Erythema is red. Cyanosis is blue. I get apneic when I see you!"

• Oh Law, please don't let them bring out the medical pick-up lines. He would handle the flirting himself but damn, why is it so hard now that he likes you? His smoothness is still there, but eye contact and your smile can easily break his cool.

• Speaking of your smile, Law is enchanted by it! Not only that, but by your eyes too. It doesn’t matter if the color is dark brown or blue, as long as he feels the sincerity and affection behind it, he would be head over heels. Imagine, Law getting flustered at your pretty eyes fluttering (*≧ω≦)

• He would be so soft for you and don’t take advantage of it. Just bring out your best puppy eyes and he will do anything for you (but you will hear a quiet grumble). His weakness is cute things, and if you’re someone with a face leaning on the cutesy side, then congratulations! You have Trafalgar Law wrapped around your finger. Joking, but it would really be such an advantage if you’re cute.

• Plus, he’s overprotective of you. Really, really protective. His possessiveness and protectiveness show whenever you’re in danger. Law would definitely not put you on the front lines when a battle happens. This is for your own safety, and he doesn't care if you hate him for it. He trusts your abilities, but there are enemies out of your league, especially in the New World.

• You nearly dying can push him to suddenly blurt out his feelings. It would be really random and subtle; you won’t even realize it at first. Him too, he would do it unintentionally since his emotions controlled his mouth.

• There are other ways he can confess; he would much prefer it if it was spontaneous though because thinking too much about it makes him nervous. However, he still plans ahead of time what to say to you. It wouldn’t be extravagant. Maybe a few simple words then he’s out. But...

— Words can’t describe what he’s feeling.

• No amount of words can truly convey the overwhelming emotion drowning his torn heart. He takes Y/N's hand in his and slowly moves it to where his heart resides. His heartbeat quickens with each passing second, his breath picking up pace while his eyes search theirs for the familiar beauty that entices him.

— "All of this… it’s because of you."

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[monarchberrysblog]

Alright

*clasps hand*

I love you so very much, and I’ll be watching you from your window. (Inside joke)

How about… cowboy!Miggy spectating a gal and her pals, she’s challenged to ride one of those rodeo bulls by her friends and fell like, three seconds in. Obvi she failed, so she has to go get another round of shots for her friends. So he took the opportunity to offer some lessons with the cowboy himself😇

EL TORO 🐂

✭ 18+ Cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: losing a bet with your best friends, you buy drinks after failing to stay on a mechanical bull for eight seconds, but before you buy another round of drinks, a local cowboy helps you…

✭ content warning: sexual innuendos, Miguel is a little unhinged, dry humping, grinding, cumplay (?), cum-eating (?), semi-exhibitionism, hook-up with a stranger, and alcohol is mentioned. VIEWER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

✭ word count: +1.8k words

✭ a/n: AUGHHHH cowboy! Miguel has me in a chokehold omfg. but here you go, pookie! thank you for your undying support and love! Your wish has been granted 💋 (if there are flaws, I apologize in advance 🩷)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

Orange opaque lights make up the dimly lit bar. Locals from around were either at a table, drinking away from those green beer bottles you grew familiar with ever since you were younger, or seeing your uncles consume those bottles at a baptism or a wedding banquet. Or you saw the occasional burnt middle-aged man sitting at the island counter, rambling to the bartender about his day, complaining about his cattle or the weather. But for you, you came to the bar unwillingly, as your best friends insisted that you liven up the environment.

But really, it was a pathetic excuse to get you out of your grandparent's bungalow home and to meet someone.

・º♢

"Come on! It'll be fun!" Xina urges, flashing her signature smug smile that always appears when she's up to something mischievous. It was always the same arrogant look she did whenever y'all were kids when she got extra chips or a cookie from her pantry closet. Hell, it was the same look your other friends gave you whenever your grandmother or grandfather offered them fresh fruits from their farm.

"No," you quickly retort, sipping your cocktail. "Please!" MJ pleads, grasping your wrists and seemingly ready to kneel. "PLEASE!" Xina soon exclaims, joining MJ to cause a scene with those around you.

"Xina, MJ…!"

"PLEASE!" They draw out the last syllable together, their voice taking on a childish tone reminiscent of when they were eight years old, fleeing from a honey bee or spider. "Okay! Okay..." You groan out, shaking your head in defeat.

"Yes!" Xina pumps her fist in victory before removing your fruity margarita from your hands and placing it on the table. "Now get on! And if you don't last eight seconds, you pay for our next round of drinks!" A low groan emerges from the back of your throat like alcohol stinging your esophagus, ready to escape. But your body, unfortunately, didn't want to do that for you so you could weasel out of the bet. You look back to see MJ at y'all's table, keeping an eye on the drinks while looking at Xina guide (dragging) you across the bar.

Your shoes squeak against the wooden floors as you get pushed to the mechanical bull area. "Just stay on there for eight seconds, and you don't have to pay for our round of shots." You and Xina passed through the semi-packed bar, occasionally brushing shoulders from a couple of guests in the bar. But one character caught your attention, nearly knocking you off your feet.

His russet brown eyes burned into your soul while his cowboy hat shielded the glisten in his eyes, giving him a dead look by any bystander who dared to make eye contact with him. His eyes match yours, lingering on your orbs. The prolonged millisecond of eye contact seized when he smirked, his eyes lingering on you and you only.

His hands, weathered and rugged, bore the marks of hard work - dry, with occasional scars and scratches, yet exuding strength. They were the hands of a hard-working man, capturing attention as much as his eyes did, capturing attention as much as his eyes did. His shirt was unbuttoned, clearly showing a bit of his chest and hair peppered. Oh, how it would feel to be held in those strong hands... Or how his hands would hold onto your hips while bouncing on his dick—

"C'mon! It's your turn to get on!" Xina urges, directing your attention away from the man and to your inevitable end of the night- falling off a mechanical bull within three seconds.

/

You sit at your table, hair somewhat touseled about while you order the next round of drinks for you and your rowdy group of friends. You looked at the half-assed served shot glass and glared at your best friends as they took their shots. With a sigh of defeat, you walk to the bar counter and take a seat on the wooden stool, covering your face and hiding away the embarrassment.

You settled onto the bar counter, absently running your finger along the smooth rim of your shot glass. A sense of intrusion picked at your gut as you felt someone trespassing on your personal space. Glancing to your left, you saw the familiar figure of the man from earlier, seated a few stools away. Your eyes dart back to the tiny glass in your hands, playing with it.

"You couldn't last eight seconds."

That sounded more evocative than it had to.

"Excuse me?"

"3.4 seconds." He adds, not acknowledging the rhetorical question you spat out. "You're those women having to give up straddling like how a car needs an oil change."

What the—

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"You lack balance, sweetheart. And movement." He lifts his shot glass, calling the bartender to refill his shot glass. "It’s straightforward."

"Oh yeah, since you seem to know everything about it, give me some constructive criticism then." You reiterate, knowing that this man was going to play the smartass card with you by sharing information that is useless or already known by the public.

"You’re not engaging your core, and you don't have any balance on your hips." He sighs before mumbling about city folk and getting off his seat. "C’mere." He waved his hand over, ushering you to get close. You didn't know if it was your being an actual dumbass, but you got off your seat and made your way over.

"M’kay," He sighs before getting off his seat and touching your hips. “It's all here, sweetheart. You have to move with the bull; it's called inertia," His hand rests on your hips and squeezes that specific area. "Always move in the opposite direction of the mechanical bull."

"If the bull moves forward, you move back. And if the bull moves back…?"

"I move forward?"

He nods before patting your tummy. "And engage your core a bit. You have abs under there, sweetheart."

His words of advice continue but they muffled out while taking note of his hand resting against your soft stomach, feeling the heat of his palm.

You take note of his words and stop. "Wait, how do you know how to do this?"

"Take it or leave it." He mumbles before he takes his shot and slams the shot glass down. "Actually," He clears his throat and sighs. "Tell them you want to redeem yourself, then tell your friend, the one who dared you to ride the bull, to buy the bill, and I owe you a drink if you make it past eight seconds."

"And if you don't, you owe me a drink."

He removes his hands from your soft stomach and sits back on the stool. "It’s your decision, sweetheart."

You think momentarily, considering the options he placed on the table. The idea of not having to pay a tab and getting a free drink sounded satisfying.

"Will you show me how?"

"Sure, why not?"

/

Sitting on his lap in the darkest, dingiest parts of the bar was not in the plans, but your pigheadedness said otherwise. You straddle down on his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Keep your balance, sweetheart." His right hand pats on your hip before bucking his hips against yours, earning a low groan from him.

"Engage your core and move in the opposite direction of me." His warm breath fans your face before he bucks his hips once again to your clothed sex. A soft mewl escapes your lips, feeling his clothed bulge against your clothed entrance.

"You can do it, c’mon…”

You pathetically moved against his aching bulge, pushing your moist gusset against his denim jeans. "There we go, move your hips to gain balance, move with me."

His dick twitched underneath you, pushing up to be free from its constraints. You slowly gyrated down, bucking your hips against his movement, creating a comfortable tempo.

A choked groan verberates your chest, sending the sensation to Miguel, earning a low moan from the man. "C'mon, keep it up." He jerks his bulge upwards, finally finding its way in between your clothed folds. You wailed, feeling his length now against your clothed clit, rubbing against the sensitive bud slowly and deliciously. You could sense the arousal trickling down to your soaked gusset and gathering the slick arousal in the cloth. "You can do it."

You patted his shoulder and took in deep breaths.

"Try again." His usual staid words slowly evolved into breathy whimpers. Miguel's words of affirmation slowly died, becoming breathy moans and grunts. The typical demands slowly turned into begging as you continued to push downwards, feeding the desires you two desperately wanted.

"Muneca..." He rasps out before you see his hands scramble down to his belt.

The sound of his belt clinking was enough of an indicator, but you knew what was next. The sound, let alone left you salivating with anticipation.

"Grind on the length."

Oh... Oh.

Glancing down, your eyes widen at the sight. Sure, he was pushing seven inches but the girth... With your left hand, you move the gusset of your underwear to the side and slowly guide your aching core down to his length, slowly enveloping his length into your soaked folds.

A low groan verberates your chest cavity, soaking the length of your slick, sticky arousal. The slippery sensation of your clit gliding down Miguel’s length, creating delicious friction.

"C’mon, move your hips."

Your body went on autopilot on that demand, relying on your slick arousal to move fluidly on his length. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" He groans out quietly, still holding onto your hips.

Soft pants and groans filled the small space and evolved into loud guttural groans from both of y'all.

"Sweetheart, slow down a bit." His breathy request fell on deaf ears before you did as he demanded. "You're humping me like I'm your pillow." He groans out before he adjusts you off his length, feeling the slick linger onto his skin.

He takes his pointer and middle finger, gathers the slick off his length, and places said fingers at the bottom plush of your lips, lightly tapping them, almost asking for permission. "Seems like you understand what I say," He pats your rear lovingly with his free hand before you suckle on his fingers, tasting the mess you left behind. He hums while you clean the pads of his fingers clean.

"Now, ride the bull for me." He demands.

/

The walk back to the lively scenery returned you to your senses as you prepared to confront your little group of friends. The conversation jumped about like crickets hopping around a long grassy field. It felt like there was no point in being driven before you challenged them against their better judgment and bet. Xina's lips pursed straight, and she nodded to her other girlfriends. The group looked at each other momentarily and caved in, just to see themselves embarrass themselves for the second time that night.

But it wasn't going to happen again...

Straddling down on the pseudo-bull, you looked out to the semi-lively bar, seeing your friends watching from afar and your 'mentor' looking at you while taking a shot. With a raise of his brow and tipping his cowboy hat, a surge of content rested in your belly.

[jannythewriter-pt2]

Girl at the Club

Connie x black reader

You needed the money. A 9-5 wasn’t cutting it anymore, family were infuriating, and you wanted to be able to spoil yourself, so you found the club. One of your homegirls Peick had told you about the club she works at and she thought you’d be a perfect fit, so you went.

You quickly learned the ropes and you began to start racking in cash. You worked the pole beautifully while keeping it classy somehow. It was a packed night at club velvet, there were men and women meeting there just to see some ass shake and to throw some cash.

Connie and some of his friends were here, some came for the wings, and some came for…. Other purposes. It had been your turn to work the pole, you come out in a sleek black two piece and some black heels, captivating the attention of many.

As you worked yourself on the pole, moving your body into an in the air split and a few spirals, you caught his eye. Connie didn’t come empty handed, he was loaded, throwing ones, twenty’s, and hundreds at you. You kept eye contact with him for a little while, the way you were looking at him made his dick throb in his sweats.

He was looking at how beautiful your golden brown skin was, how your body moved, now pretty your face was, he couldn’t help himself. Once you were done you cleaned off the pole and went back to the dressing room.

You were counting some money when one of the managers, Levi, had told you that Connie wanted a private dance from you. You cleaned yourself up a bit, applied some lipgloss and some vanilla perfume, and went to the private room.

He was sitting in the chair. Smoking a blunt and eying you as you walked up. “Hey beautiful, I saw the way you were working that pole…. Show me something mama” and you do. You work your hips, move your body into a way that’s captivating to his eyes, he’s throwing money at you, watching you, admiring you as you show him your talents.

He beckoned you over to him, you went to him and gave him a lap dance. Hips grinding on his lap, his hands roaming your abdomen and hips, him kissing your shoulders… usually the customers weren’t allowed to do this but you let it slide this one time. “You to pretty to be working here…. Too many eyes mami” you shyly smiled at him and softly said “I have to pay bills sir, I gotta do what I gotta do…. You understand”.

He kissed your neck and whispered “you should be at home with your feet up, having someone please you and cater to your every need”. You turned to face him as you moved your hips “it’s not that easy honey…. It takes time” he got so much harder when you called him honey in that sweet tone, it made him want to take that two piece off you and fuck you to the floor like you deserve.

You looked at him and asked “and why are you here hmm… did you just come to get your dick wet?”, he laughed and said “I came here cause my friends wanted me too, but I didn’t expect to find someone like you here…”.

He was looking at your body, he couldn’t help but wonder what type of faces you would make if he had you on your back on his mattress…. Shaking, whining, begging him to give you what you wanted. You were trying to keep your composure but it was so hard when a 6’2 man with tattoos and a buzz cut was eying and touching you like he was.

You could feel your pussy getting wetter by the second, he was doing something to you but you wouldn’t give it up that easily. His dance was over and he asked for your number. “I’m not allowed to give that to you during work hours honey I’m sorry…. You’ll just have to come back and see me”. He hated seeing you leave, but he loved seeing you walk away.

Taglist# @madamechrissy (Got my inspo from her, go check her page out!)

[fanboyoff1]

Landoscar- Losing your bags at the airport (1.7k words)

Hello all! This is based off that one tweet about Lando losing his bags at the airport and Oscar staying with him. Disclaimer- I know nothing about airports, all of this was google searched stuff, so go easy on me. (I made it an American airport because dealing with a language barrier was too complicated lol) It's mostly fluff, but I suppose a bit of angst?

Also, this is my first fic I'm posting online, so please be kind ❤️

Lando sighed loudly, blowing hair out of his face as he exhaled. He wasn’t the biggest fan of airports by principle. They’re boring, the lines are long, and the whole thing seems so much bigger than it needs to be. But it’s kind of a necessary part of his job, so he’d mostly gotten used to waiting for stupid amounts of time at airports.

But this is just kinda ridiculous. He and Oscar had been waiting for Lando’s suitcase to show up at baggage claim for… well he didn’t know how long it had been, but it was longer than he’d ever had to wait before. Even worse, Oscar’s bag had practically been the first to get dumped out onto the carousel, because of course it had. They were going to the hotel together, so Oscar was staying with him. The Aussie was on his phone, sitting on his suitcase and texting someone. Lando hated the silence, so he tore his eyes away from Oscar’s gorgeous side profile and yawned.

“This is taking foreverrr,” he said, stretching from his place crouched on the floor.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Oscar corrected, not once looking up from his phone.

“Screen-ager,” Lando decided to retaliate. Oscar looked up now, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment clear on his face. Lando looked back to the baggage carousel, satisfied by getting a reaction out of the younger man.

Oscar cleared his throat. “How about we just wait a few more minutes and then go to the baggage desk.”

“Huh?”

“The baggage desk. Where you go if you lose your luggage. It’s right there.” He pointed, and sure enough, back against the wall and a few carousels down was a little front desk-looking thing, with neon letters spelling out ‘Baggage Desk’ above it.

“Oh,” Lando mumbled, adjusting his hat. 

“I’ll just tell Zak we’ll be a bit later than expected,” Oscar said, giving Lando a blinding smile that made his stomach twist with that complicated more-than-just-a-crush feeling he preferred not to think about. He hummed in response, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

After a few more minutes, everyone that had been on their flight (aka about half the Mclaren crew, including Zak and Andrea who had ditched them first chance they got) had left, and Lando was getting more and more stressed out. He was biting his lip and running his hands through his hair repeatedly, imagining practically every worse-case scenario. What if his suitcase got on the wrong flight? What if there was something bad in there he didn’t realize and they wouldn’t let him get his stuff? What if some rando took his stuff?

He didn’t realize Oscar was talking to him until a hand waved in front of his face. He looked to his teammate who was already staring at him worriedly.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, resting his hand on Lando’s arm. Lando managed a small, likely unconvincing nod. 

Oscar let go of his upper arm with a gentle squeeze, and Lando might just melt away at the spot. “Well, I was asking you if you wanted to go to the baggage desk and ask about your suitcase?”

Lando nodded again and stood, walking away before even giving Oscar a chance to do so as well. He felt a bit bad as he heard Oscar scramble upright and start pulling his suitcase behind him, but it had been a long day and he really just needed to collapse into his hotel room now.

He reached the desk and made eye contact with a short woman, her long brown hair tied up in a low ponytail and wearing official looking clothes, who was standing near the back of the small room. She rushed forward and sat down in a swivel chair, pushing her glasses up.

“What’s your issue, dearie?” she said in a strong Southern accent, only slightly muffled by the thick glass separating them.

“Uh, can’t find my bag. Didn't show up,” he said with a guilty smile. He tried to turn on his charm as much as possible, his train of thought being, Maybe if I’m nice she’ll be nice back and then I can go to bed quicker. 

“Alright love. Name?”

“Lando Norris,” he said. Oscar had reached him by now, standing so close to his side that their shoulders were almost brushing against each other.

The lady did some typing on her computer, then let out a little tsk sound in the back of her throat. “I’m sorry, it seems like your luggage got sent to the wrong place. We’re trying to get it here as we speak.”

Lando shot a glance back to Oscar, who raised his eyebrows. “Do you know what happened?” he asked the lady. He looked at the pin on her shirt, which said her name was Charlotte. Huh, she didn’t look like a Charlotte.

Charlotte gave a shrug in response. “Could’ve been anything. My guess, there wasn’t enough space in the cargo hold on your plane. It got placed on the wrong extra-storage space, and got sent somewhere else. You’ll have to wait until it gets here. That might take a while.”

Lando worked hard to suppress a groan. “Okay. Thanks.” He tried for a smile that ended up more like a grimace.

“You two can sit in one of those chairs on the right while you wait,” Charlotte said with a sympathetic smile. Lando turned to his right and flopped into a chair. At least they were cushioned. 

This night was turning shitty fast. He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask? And what was even more awful about this was that Oscar had to stay with him.

“Sorry about this,” he told his friend, who looked at him confused.

“Why? It’s nothing you could control.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just…” he trailed off, not sure how to explain that somehow he was blaming himself for this. No, he’d never tell Oscar that, he’d think he was weird. The edge of Lando’s eyes were starting to water with tears, and he wanted to scream. You’re such a baby. What’s your problem? Bury it, you can’t do this right now. Crybaby.

“Hey, Lando, it’s okay,” Oscar said, reaching out with one hand. He touched Lando’s shoulder tenderly. “I don’t mind.”

Lando hugged his legs to his chest and buried his head in his knees. “I’m just having a bad day,” he mumbled, and for a second he wasn’t sure if Oscar heard him.

“That’s alright,” Oscar said, and he let go of Lando’s arm. Lando didn’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of contact though, because then Oscar’s arm was wrapping around his shoulders and gently tugging him closer. Lando practically fell onto his chest, and could feel his cheeks reddening.

“This okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You can rest. You know, if you want. I know you’re tired.”

“Will you wake me up when my suitcase shows up?”

“Mm-hmm,” Oscar hummed, and Lando let himself sink into his embrace, their breaths and heartbeats syncing. Oscar was really cuddly, he thought as he drifted off.

# # #

“Hey, Lando, wake up.”

Osc, Lando thought and smiled. “Wake up, Lando.” Then someone was gently pushing his shoulder, and he blearily opened his eyes.

He took in his surroundings with a moment of slight confusion before remembering. The airport. His bags. Crying. Oscar.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the man in question said, and Lando swore he felt his fingers brushing through his curls. “C’mon, your stuff got here.”

A part of Lando wanted to jump up and start doing a victory dance on the spot. The annoyance of getting up overruled it though. He was so comfy.

Wait, where exactly was he? He knew he was at the airport, but this was way too comfy for a chair. His eyes flickered around trying to figure it out, and oh God he was in Oscar’s lap. He quickly sat up, using his hands to push himself upright. However, he didn’t account for where he was putting his hands, and ended up putting half of his weight on Oscar’s thigh. Oscar let out a little grunt of pain, wincing.

“Oh shit, sorry sorry sorry,” Lando hurriedly apologized, backing up.

“No no, you’re fine,” Oscar reassured him, but his voice was strained. He looked at Lando with a smirk. “Are you trying to sabotage me, Lando Norris?”

“I’m sorry!”

Oscar just giggled and stood. He reached a hand out to Lando, who took it. He used his free hand to grab his suitcase and took off confidently to the left, not releasing his tight grasp on Lando’s hand.

“Uh, where are we going?” Lando asked, desperately trying to stop the stupid butterflies rising in his stomach. God he was so childish, they were literally just holding hands. But they were holding hands. 

“To get your bag. Obviously.”

With no further explanation, he proceeded to get dragged through what felt like half the airport. Not that he minded. Every once in a while Oscar would look back and give him a trademark Osc Smile that made his insides turn to mush, so that made up for the mystery part pretty well.

Finally they reached their destination, some obscure part of the airport. A few official people gave him his suitcase along with many apologies and a crap ton of airline points (not that those were especially helpful to him, Mclaren paid for most of his flights anyways. It was a nice gesture though.) He accepted the apologies quickly, not wanting to drag out this process any longer than necessary.

 Then they were in a taxi headed to their hotel, and the exhaustion was coming back ten-fold.

“Tired?” Oscar asked once Lando had yawned for the fifth time.

“Just a bit,” Lando quipped.

“Want to sleep again?”

“You’re fine with it?”

“Of course.”

Lando hesitantly let his head fall on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s arm found its way around his shoulders again.

Just before Lando fell asleep again, he felt a feather-light kiss pressing against his head, and he scooted closer to Oscar with a sigh.

Here are some people who said they were interested: @slugesh, @peppysinc, @sunnykasarova, @alto-the-avocado, @lailau7904, @standgrand, @chamberkat

[wynn-43]

lee minho ~ so tight i'd bruise you

lee minho x gn! reader song: Wild Blue Yonder wc: 4.6k (sorry) warnings: very suggestive at one point (highlighted by °˖✧✿✧˖°), numerous sex jokes (like so many), non-idol AU, they're so in love, strangers to lovers, swearing, reader gets miagranes, mentions of not great friends, they get engaged, scary films, this is so cheesy and silly a/n: red hair lino... the things i'd do for you... anyways! next installment of my The Amazing Devil series!

31st of May, 2019

The lights were so bright, each vibrant flash of RBG dizzying you further. Your head hurt, the pain throbbing in beat with the obnoxiously loud music. You tried to find an exit, some way out of this swirling mass of people, who were sticking together with sweat and spilt drinks.

You stumble around, eyes unfocused as you somehow spot the red-brick of the wall behind the bar. You make your way towards it, narrowly avoiding multiple drunk girls running towards the bathrooms.

You manage to find a seat at the bar, leaning your elbows against the bartop and closing your eyes, trying to block out the light.

“You okay?” You vaguely hear a voice quietly ask.

You blink your eyes open and once your eyes adjust, you’re met with the face of a beautiful man. His dark cherry hair complimented his glowing skin and his deep brown eyes were cat-like– sharp, slightly slanted and full of curiosity. A slight smirk rested on his rosy lips and despite his confident aura, you could see a soft pink blush dusting his neck and ears as you stared at him.

“Hello?” He asked, starling you out of your staring.

“Uh yeah.” You're interrupted by a jolt of pain in your head. “No. No I am not.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Oh” He says, obviously surprised by your honesty. “Do you need to go outside?”

“Mhm.” You hum, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Do you need help?” He asks, an odd softness in his voice for someone he just met.

“Uh yes please.” You said, opening your eyes again, wincing at the sudden light change.

“Okay, I will be right there, one second.” He says before rushing off.

All of a sudden he’s at your side, gently taking your elbow and guiding you towards an exit.

The rush of cold air combined with the quieting of the music and the absence of obscenely loud music immediately make you feel better- with the pain quieting down to a gentle thrum every so often.

“So are you okay? You looked really pale back there.” The boy softly asked, eyes focused on you with a mix of concern and inquisitiveness.

“Uh yeah. Migraine. Sorry. Thank you for helping, you can uh, go back if you need.” You fumble, looking to the ground to avoid his beautiful face.

“I took five so it’s all good. Plus, my boss would kill me if anything happened to a customer.” He laughs nervously. “But seriously, are you sure you’re okay?”

You shuffle, barely looking up to meet his gaze before averting your eyes again. “Uh yeah. I think so. It’s my fault, any sort of loud and flashy parties always trigger my migraines.”

“And yet your friends threw you one anyway…” He says???

“Yeah. Uh- wait, how did you know that?” You ask, making eye contact, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

He chuckles, “It’s a small bar, there’s only so many birthdays happening at once.”

“Oh” You laugh.” “Yeah, that makes sense.”

You, you told me I was younger (without you, I'm stronger, I'm no longer) That I was filled with wonder How wrong you were For you, I would have gone so much blonder (my lungs were pulled asunder by)

“Happy 25th Birthday by the way. You’re lucky you're still young and filled with wonder.” He says casually, leaning against the wall.

You laugh. “There’s no way you’re that much older than me.”

“Come on, you’re, what, 30? 35?” you tease, laughing at his look of mock offense.

“I’ll have you know I am 27!” he said indignantly.

“HAH! You’re less than a year older than me! Going on about how and filled with wonder, how wrong you were!” You dramatically taunt, making him laugh.

“Fine, fine you got me there.” Glancing down at his watch, his eyes widened.

“Shoot I have to go back.” he says, pushing himself off the wall. “How are you getting home?” he asks.

“Oh, I was just going to walk,” you pause, noticing his astonished look.

“Absolutely not.” He checks his watch again. “I’m off in 15 minutes. Can you wait that long? Then I’ll drive you home.” You once again notice his neck and ears growing pink, brighter this time.

You smirk, “Oh you wanna take me home?” You tease, mentally noticing how his neck and ears turn a vibrant red.

“I-” he stutters. “I just want you to get home safe or whatever.”

“Well, I appreciate it Mr. Wait what’s your name? You ask.

He smiles, “Minho.”

“Well, thank you Mr. Minho, that would be very much appreciated.” You try to hide your growing smile.

“Okay great, you wait here, I’ll see you in 15.” He says as the door swings open, the sudden assault of flashing lights and loud music makes you flinch as the pain spikes up again.

You press yourself against the wall, gasping for air as it feels like your lungs are being pulled apart. After the door closes, you take a few steadying breaths as the pain subsides. You relish in the feeling of the cold night-air enveloping your skin, the pain dissipating with each gentle breeze.

By the time Minho comes back out the pain is virtually gone, replaced with a slight buzz from the cider you’d drank earlier that evening.

“Thanks for waiting.” Minho smiles upon noticing you standing there, almost as if he was surprised you actually waited.

“Why are you thanking me, you're the one driving me home.” You laugh.

He laughs as he leads you towards his car. You gingerly sit in the passenger seat, trying to be cautious with how nice of a car it was.

“So what’s the address?” he asks as he rests his hand on the back of your seat, looking back to make his way out of the parking space.

You feel your throat dry as butterflies swarm in your stomach and you manage to stutter out your address. Whilst your eyes are fixated on your hands resting in your lap, you’re sure that you can see him smirking in the corner of your eye.

“What’s your name by the way? You never told me.” He inquires after putting your address into the car's GPS.

After you introduce yourself the two of you fall into quiet small talk before he arrives out the front of your small apartment.

“Is this it?” He asks, parking once you nod.

“Thank you so much for driving me here.” You say, before the two of you fall into an awkward silence.

“Uh, do you want to come in?” You ask, blushing furiously once you realise what you said.

If it wasn’t for the dark, you would’ve seen him blush furiously, but despite his flusteredness, he remains calm, smirking. “Sure.”

Seen that wild blue yonder and said, "Let's end this, too" So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off Grip the bathroom rug my skin's grown so soft (Get a grip, we're grown-ups)

°˖✧✿✧˖°

Next thing you know, you’re pressed against the interior of your front door, his mouth hot and urgent against yours. As his lips trail down your neck, you grab at the blue leather jacket on his shoulders, pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor.

“Just so you know” you gasp as he kisses at your neck “I never do this.”

“Same” he murmurs, momentarily pulling back to breathe.

“No like never” You resist a whine as he pulls back.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh my god, no!” you exclaim, cheeks burning. “I just mean, I’ve never had a hookup before. I’m not… I just haven’t.”

“Oh,” he smirks, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Then I’m honored to be your first.” He leans in, reclaiming your lips with a smile.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

1st of June, 2019

The next morning you wake up early, shocked at how well you slept. Still groggy, you move to get up, before noticing the weight of an arm draped over you and your memories from last night come flooding back.

You stand up, gently removing Minho’s arm and moving a pillow under it, careful not to wake him. You tiptoe towards the bathroom, quickly getting into the shower, sighing as the hot water hits your skin.

The shower was the one place you felt you could relax and unwind- you always used it as a way to collect your thoughts, the gentle rhythm of the water providing a backing music for your racing thoughts.

You step out of the shower, drying yourself off and reveling in the softness of your skin. You decide to make breakfast, assuming pancakes are a good bet, even if you knew absolutely nothing about the man now laying in your bed.

You’re standing there humming to yourself as you flip the final pancake, mentally preparing yourself for going to wake up and confront the man when you turn, suddenly finding yourself looking at said man.

His hair was fluffy and slightly messy from sleep and the neck of his shirt was sliding down on one side exposing his shoulder. He looked confused and you noticed the pile of his belongings in his hands.

“Oh! Good morning, I was just about to wake you.” You place the pancake down before looking back at him, his expression confused. “Are you leaving already? I thought you might want pancakes.” You try to remain casual with your words.

“I assumed you’d want me gone. I mean I wake up and you’re not there…” Minho trails off, laughing. “But pancakes sound lovely, thank you!”

“Oh no I was just hungry,” you laugh along, trying to relieve some of the awkward tensions between you two. “And I always wake up early,” you add.

“How’d you know I like pancakes?” He enquires some time later, that curious glint returning to his eyes.

“Oh, I just figured it was a safe bet.” You giggle.

“So.” Minho starts, making your heart rate spike with anxiety. “We should probably talk about, uh, this.” He gestures between the two of you.

“Oh right. Yeah, uh, sorry.” You stumble over your words, unsure as to where this was going.

“No! No, don’t apologise.” He says, squeezing your knee under the table. “I just uh- wanted to make things clear y’know.” You nod slowly.

“Um, I don’t, y’know, usually do hookups. But there’s something about you.” You look up, noticing the flush of red on his neck and ears.

“I don’t know. I just feel…” he pauses, making eye contact with you, “drawn to you.”

You feel your face heating up and you clear your throat, “Yeah, no me too.” You swallow hard.

“Like, I know we just met, but, there's something about you…” You look back into his eyes, blushing furiously at the soft look in them.

He laughs at your fluster, “I’m glad it’s not just me!”

There’s a pause for a minute or so.

“So, uh, what now?” You ask, still unsure.

“Well um, are you busy today?” Minho asks, that sly smirk back on his lips.

Let's wander 'til the fuckers demand an encore Flirting (wasn't flirting) at the back of a bookshop Come and rip off my socks like you're blasting the locks off of a bank vault (halt) This time we're done for

The two of you end up spending the day together. You walk around your local shops, grabbing a coffee together and talking about yourselves.

You find out he works as a bartender at night so that he can teach dance and volunteer at the local cat shelter during the day. He has three cats that live with his parents, but he visits them weekly and he really enjoys cooking.

In turn, you tell him about your life, what you do for work and how you ended up here. You tell him about your interests, about your friends and you find out you have a shared love for camping and reading.

The two of you visit a bookshop, one of the cute ones with a coffee shop attached. The two of you walk along the rows and rows of books, pointing out the ones you’ve read and the ones you want to.

You notice him giggling as he holds a book. “What are you doing?” You ask suspiciously as you approach him.

His giggles intensify as he tries to talk. “Ar-are you Brenna Yovanoff? Because I want to get rid of The Space Between Us.” He holds out the book in his hands, showing you a copy of The Space Between, laughing even harder at your dumbfounded expression.

“What- What the fuck” you stumble out, at a loss for words, your reaction making him double over in laughter which then led to you follow him.

You look up, immediately noticing the perfect book in front of you.

You pick it up, careful to hide the title and poke him.

“Hey, hey Minho. Are you The Giver?” You ask, flipping the book around. “Because you sure were last night…” He erupts into another fit of laughter, but you definitely notice a red tinge to his neck and ears.

“Excuse me.” A shop worker came up to the two of you. “Could you please keep it down?” She quietly asked.

“Yes. Sorry miss.” You apologise, quickly putting the books back and elbowing the still-laughing Minho before ushering him out of the shop.

“Okay that one was really good.” Minho says once the two of you have calmed down outside.

“Thank you, thank you. I know. Comedic genius right here.” You fake bow before looking into his eyes, blushing at the fondness in them.

“What are you doing tonight?” He suddenly asks.

“Um,” you pause to think, “nothing I think.”

“Do you want to get dinner together?” Minho asks, the soft pink returning to his ears as he averts his eyes from your gaze. “We could get takeout or I can cook for you?”

“I would love that.” You smile, gasping as you get an idea. “On one condition.”

Let's hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be wolves

“I really did not think that your ‘one condition’ would be a pillow fort.” Minho chuckles to you from his place at the stove.

“Well.” You start, pausing to run and grab more pillows. “My original idea was a movie but,” you again pause to move a chair over to create a wall. “I know you only like scary movies, and the only way I would watch a scary movie.” You pause as you struggle to pin the sheets up. “Is in a pillow fort.” You turn to the man, smiling at your successful pillow adventure.

However, you didn’t expect to find the man right in behind you, once you turned he immediately cupped your face, his hold so gentle as if he was holding the world in his hands, before kissing you softly and with so much tenderness.

After he pulled back you were almost dizzy, grabbing onto his arms to stop yourself from falling, making him smirk.

“What was that for?” You ask, confused.

“You were just really cute.” He mumbles. “So, dinner?” He pulls away, that signature smirk on his lips.

So hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you too Every stone you threw I stood on to better see the view

23rd of November, 2024

“What did we even watch anyways?” you ask, tilting your head to look up at him, your cheek pressed against the rise and fall of his chest.

“Uhh…” He paused, his fingers pausing in your hair. “Oh! The Conjuring.”

You shiver, your body stiffening at the memory “God I forgot about that one.” You shuffle so that you’re laying on top of him now. “That one was terrifying.”

Minho laughed at the look of horror in your eyes, his hand resting gently on the side of your face. “It wasn’t that bad…” His teasing words are counteracted by his soft stroking of your cheek.

“Yes, yes it was.” You glare at him, resting your chin on his chest. “It was worth it though.”

Minho smirked teasingly, “Oh? And why was it worth it?”

You smiled, “Because it let me get closer to you.” You poke his chest.

He laughs before going back to staring at you in his typical cat-like way.

I've got something in my eye (I surrender what was) Don't you ever wonder what could have been? All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried Try, please, try for me

“I love you so much.” He says, catching you off guard with the soft look in his eyes.

“I love you too baby.” You reach up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“So.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So,” you repeat, planting another on his forehead.

“So.” Your lips brush his other cheek.

“So.” This time, you kiss the tip of his nose, your tone turning lighter, teasing.

“Sooo,” you draw out, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Much.” Finally, you capture his lips in a gentle kiss, lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his smile against yours.

Upon leaning back you’re shocked to find tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay, love?” You ask, concerned.

He quickly dries his eyes, “Yes, just uh, got something in my eye.”

“Liar.” You say lightheartedly, making him chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much. I’m gonna marry you one day.” Minho murmurs before kissing you, with much more intensity this time.

You pull back, “I can’t wait.” You say before leaning back in.

Come rest for the winter, wear my jumper all night long Those songs we sung, those words we flung For fear of sound All those books that we both drowned And the candle we lit Well, we'll use it to burn this whole place to the ground I'm lost, I'm found in you

The next few weeks are a blur and the two of you spend many nights curled up together, wearing each other's jumpers and reading books together.

One night, you walk into the living room where your boyfriend was setting up for your shared reading session.

“You’re wearing my hoodie!” Minho exclaims, pointing at you as he drops a pillow.

“Yeah! Well you’re wearing mine!” You laugh.

“Only because I couldn’t find mine!” He walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Because you stole it.” He smirked teasingly.

“Oh hush.” You mutter, your hands rested upon his chest. “You love it.”

“I do.” He says before kissing you with a heartstopping intensity. “I really do.”

“Hey” Minho asks later, as you two are curled up reading your books. “Are you Gandalf? Because I’d blindly follow you to Mordor.”

You crack up, “Oh that was horrible!”

“Hey!” He exclaims. “I tried my best! I’d like to see you do better.”

You turn to him, suddenly serious. “I have waited my whole life for this.” He looks shocked and wary at your sudden seriousness.

“Are you Mount Doom? Because you’re hot and I’d walk across Mordor just to give you a ring.” Minho looks stunned.

“Okay that actually wasn’t b-” You cut him off.

“I’m not done.” You give him a mischievous smirk.

“Are you tall and blonde, with pointy ears?” You ask, barely holding back your laughter. “Because after I’m done with you, you’re gonna feel Legolas.” Your composure almost breaks as he giggles.

Minho's eyes light up, “Wait! I’ve got one.” He pauses to compose himself. “Was that a Middle-Earthquake? Or did you just rock my world…”

You press a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Are you the Silmarillion? Because you’re long, hard, and impossible to read.” He says, and it takes every cell in your body not to laugh.

“Are you an orc? Because my Sting lights up whenever you’re around.” The two of you pause for a moment before you burst into hysterical laughter.

“Okay” He manages to get out between laughing fits. “That one wins.”

Hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Can't you hear that scratching? Hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you too

1st of June, 2019

“AH!” You shriek, shocking the poor man next to you. “Something touched my foot.” You say, freezing in fear.

“Yeah my foot, dumbass.” Minho laughed at your embarrassed expression.

You pressed your face into a pillow, exasperated at your own dumbassery.

“If you’re that scared we can stop.” Minho offered, his voice soft.

You look up. “No. No. I’m fine. Just.” You paused. “Just hold me?”

You giggle internally at the soft pink blush that decorates his neck and ears.

“I- yeah. Of course.” He mumbles and the two of you shuffle around to a more comfortable cuddling position.

Later on, when you jump and bury your face in his chest in fear, he won’t tell you about how tightly you squeeze him, how his muscles ache under the pressure.

Even when he wakes up the next morning and sees the soft purple bruise painting his arm, he doesn’t regret it. Because holding you like this was worth every second.

Every brick you hurled I'll use to build this world This world, this world, this world Let's hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be all our demons, darling

14th of December, 2024

“What are we watching this time?” You ask, curling up in Minho’s arms within your makeshift pillow fort- something that had become a weekly tradition.

“I was thinking of The Conjuring.” He teases, laughing as you smack his arm.

“Absolutely not.” You pout.

“Hmm. Fine. How about…” he hums, “Smile.”

You turn to glare at him, huffing. “Never. In a million years. Ever.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughs, “How about you go get snacks and I’ll choose something less scary.”

You look at him suspiciously, “You promise it won’t be scary?”

“I promise.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before ushering you out of the pillow fort.

A few minutes later you re-enter the pillow fort, shooting your boyfriend a cautious glance as you walk in on your knees.

“So, what’d you choose?” You ask, gently placing the snacks down.

“I was thinking we would watch The Proposal.” Minho says, a mischievous smirk on his face.

You turn your head towards him suddenly in surprise. “What? Why? You hate rom-coms.”

Minho giggles, “Because…” he manages to shuffle so that he’s on one knee in front of you, reaching to grab something from his back pocket.

“No fucking way.” You murmur, tears springing to your eyes as he laughs.

He pulls out a black box, the velvet glinting in the dim light as he opens it to reveal an intricate gold ring. It has two golden lines that gracefully twirl around the exterior before stopping at symmetrical filigree swirls. These filigree swirls surround the centre of the ring, which showcases a deep purple gem, surrounded by 4 dark-blue gems, which combined with the swirling filigree are placed to make it look like a 4 four-pointed star.

“Oh baby… It’s beautiful.” You say, trying your hardest to not let your tears slip out.

“My love. The light of my life. I love you so, so much. You are my world. You saved me, when I felt that I was lost and I feel like I’m found in you. You make me laugh, you’re so funny and you’re so extremely kind and loving, even when we fight. You’re so thoughtful, and always know just what to do to help. You are perfect in every way and there is no one else I’d ever even think of wanting to spend my life with.” He paused to blink the tears out of his eyes as you tried to stop the tears rolling down your face. “I love you more than life itself, without you I am nothing more than all my demons. Will you do the honour of marrying me?” He smiles at you gently as a tear rolls down his face.

“Yes. Yes! Yes. Absolutely yes.” You exclaim, pressing soft kisses on his lips that are now wet with both of your tears. He wraps his arms around your waist, careful with the ring and brings you close to him, kissing you with such dizzying intensity that it makes your heart shatter and the piece itself back together.

“I love you.” You pause, pressing another kiss to his lips as you hold his face in your hands. “So much.” You press a dozen more kisses to his lips before you finally break apart for long enough for him to place the ring on your finger.

“It’s so pretty…” You sniffle. “Thank you jagiya.” He smiles, before kissing you again.

“I love you, nae sarang.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he holds you close.

Hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you

Later, the two of you are cuddled up in your pillow fort, peacefully basking in each other's love, warmth and comfort. He laid behind you, chin resting on your shoulder with his arms and legs wrapped around you, gently running his fingers over the ring now adoring your enclosed hands.

“Sometimes, I just get the overwhelming urge to squish you. You’re just so cute.” You murmur to him, leaning back so you can see his face.

His eyes widen as he sees your hand slowly inching towards his face. “What are you doing…?”

“Nothing…” You say, mesmerized by his cuteness, gently reaching out and squeezing his cheeks together.

“What the fuck?” He asked, so genuinely confused.

“Cutie.” You whisper before remembering the ring on your finger and giggling. “My cutie.”

So hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be ghosts or monsters or a robot-vampire, I don't know Hold me, lover, like you sued to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you

1 week later

The two of you are at Minho’s parents house for Christmas. Despite this change in routine you still manage to create a pillow fort on the floor of his childhood room, the two of you watching another scary movie on his laptop.

You notice a strange rustling from just outside the fort.

“What the fuck was that?” You whisper, terrified as you turn towards Minho.

“It’s definitely the cat.” He says.

“Or ghosts. Or monsters.” You whisper back, terrified.

“Or a robot vampire?” He teases, his eyebrow raising in his signature way as you slap his arm.

Suddenly a grey striped paw reaches into your pillow fort.

“Dori!” You exclaim, beckoning the soft grey cat over.

“Told you so.” He mutters, leaning his head on your shoulder.

Dori promptly struts into the pillow fort, quickly laying down in your lap in a purring, fluffy pile.

“She likes you.” Minho smiles, and if it was any brighter in your little stow-away, you’d notice him looking at you as though you created the stars themselves and hung them for his cats to play with. He looks at you with so much genuine love and admiration that if you had seen it, you would’ve melted into a pile alongside Dori.

Rather than try and express this love to you with words, Minho simply wraps his arms around you, careful to not disturb Dori, and pulls you close to him. He hopes to someday get close enough to you that you can feel his adoration seep from his body to yours.

Until then, he’ll settle for holding you tight—so tight that you worry there will be soft purple bruises on your skin by morning. But you don’t mind, because little does he know, you feel his love every time he touches you.

This is a work of fiction, based entirely on my personal perception of him, and does not reflect his actual character or actions.

[cillians-sweetheart]

Hihihi could you please Write for Jim from tds?

Ofc he’s so daddy 😋

Maid For Pleasure - Jim TDS

Jim Murphy(38) x Cleaner!Reader(18)

Plot: Y/N becomes desperate for a job while in school and comes across a house cleaning gig that ends up suiting her, and her employers needs quite well.

Content: age-gap, smut, dubcon, pervy Jim, dirty talk (m), dominant Jim, slight degradation, spanking, adultery (m), cvm trapping, porno type plot

(Because we don't know Jim's last name in The Delinquent Season, we're just gonna say his last name is Murphy in this scenario.)

Being a broke, College student -freshly 18- I was in desperate need of a simple job I could do after school to be able to afford my basic needs. I would search every day at the part-time jobs listed in my area, but all required too many hours that I didn’t have. It wasn’t just my school hours it cut into, but studying hours I urgently needed to pass.

I was already doing well in school because most of my time was spent studying and spending extra hours in class unlike everyone else who had jobs to attend to. I had a choice, either get some money so I can feed myself, or be the greatest student in all my classes. That second choice was for sure tempting but probably not the right choice in the end. I’m not someone who’s overly comfortable with asking for money. I’d rather starve.

After several, continuous hours scrolling through the internet in my dorm room bed, my eyes catch a listing for a “Part-time house cleaning - paying $20/hour.” It was perfect. Easy, and well paying. I instantly clicked the link and read further. “Available during mornings and noon between 9:00am - 1:00pm.” I could easily go during my lunch break and free period around 11am. So I clicked apply.

It wasn’t until the next morning I had seen an email from Jim Murphy accepting my application. I was pleased to see I could start today at 10am. Quickly I got up and out of bed, got ready in a comfy, but cool outfit that I wouldn’t mind dirtying while slaving my way through this man’s house. I didn’t doll up fully, but made myself presentable enough to hopefully keep this job until I can find something more ideal.

I waited around my dorm until the time came for me to leave. When I did I was emailed an address on one of the middle class streets. Definitely someone who could afford a maid.

I pulled up to the house with my hair pulled back in a messy bun, my makeup light and my clothes tight but comfortable. After taking a few -several- deep breaths I got out and knocked on the front door. A slim man with a kind face opened the door to me and introduced himself as, “Jim.”

“Y/N.” I grinned in return to him. His eyes slowly gazed from up and down my face and figure. As if he wasn’t expecting his cleaner to be someone like me.

“Please come in Y/N. Apologies for the clutter. Children.” He chuckled, with an almost flirtatious grin.

“No worries,” I smiled. “This is my job.”

Jim went back to continue his work in the kitchen on his laptop, quickly typing and occasionally sipping tea for a mug. His dark brown glasses laid comfortably on the bridge of his small nose, and his legs slightly spread beneath the table.

I purposely cleaned every other room first before I made my way to the kitchen because if I’m being honest I didn’t expect I’d feel almost flustered around him. And because of that I avoided him to not embarrass myself. I knew he was married and I’d respect that, but I couldn’t help finding him handsome. He was and I couldn't control that. I’d manipulate myself into believing my attraction towards him was purely his fault to hide from the shame.

Finally the time came where I had absolutely nothing else to do in any other room in the house. Not even a speck of fuzz on the carpet. I kept my head down coming into the kitchen, reframing from any and all eye contact. I wiped the counters, vacuumed the floor, dusted and lastly scrubbed every surface from the floor to the cabinets.

I felt while on my knees scrubbing around the edges of the furniture, eyes on me. But each time I’d peer between my legs, Jims eyes were glued to his computer screen. I made out that I was probably just paranoid, and jittery with that need for affection.

But I wasn’t. Really every time I’d refocus myself to cleaning, Jim’s eye would glance from the screen to between my legs. In his mind, he imagined the feeling of my plump ass in his hands and the feeling of it rubbing against his lap. The thought alone made him painfully hard. His aching bulge pressed tightly against his jeans. And of course, my skin tight leggings fit perfectly around the shape of my pussy. The sight was so clear and perfect.

Being on my hands and knees scrubbing at the floor, Jim couldn’t look away as my hips, and ass moved in sync with the motion of my arm. Each scrub they jiggled and began providing an easier view as I bent my chest lower, and lower to the tile floor.

Jim grabbed at his bulge in his pants and had stopped worrying if I caught him staring. He was far too deep into the fantasy of ruining my little body to care. He swore under his breath and his hand tightened around his pulsing cock under his jeans. While I on the other hand hadn’t had a clue what was going on behind me.

Suddenly Jim stood from his chair and came up behind me. “I think you missed a spot… on the counter.” He stated with a tone I couldn’t identify.

“Sorry sir,” I quickly stood to my feet, still not looking him in the eye. “I’ll clean it.” I quickly, with my rag, walked to the granite countertop and began to scrub the surface. I could hear, and feel Jim slowly moving closer to me from behind.

“That’s good…” He purred, coming close behind me, his hips and boner rubbing against my butt. “Just like that.”

I froze. Jim’s hands laid onto my hips and his hard cock pressed against my pussy through my leggings.

“Don’t stop, just pretend I’m not here love” he leaned down with his hot breath on my neck. I continued to slowly stroke the counter with my damp rag. I felt panicked, and uneasy. But the feeling of him rubbing against my clit made me unbelievably wet.

“Mr Murphy…?” I whimpered, gripping the counter.

“Mhm?”

“What are you doing?” I asked with my voice shaky and unsure.

“You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve touched such a young, beautiful body,” he whispered to me. “I need this. I need to touch you.” Completely avoiding my question.

My skin felt hot and my cheeks went red at his words. And suddenly his big rough hands tugged at my leggings, pulling them down my plump ass. I wanted to say something but all that came out was a muffled whine.

Jim quickly undid his belt from behind me. The sound made my whole body freeze in place.

“You want this baby?” His voice was low and lustful as he stroked his now bare cock against my clothed clit.

I squirmed in return to him, “mhm..” I moaned.

“Yeah?” His hand gripped firmly to my plushy hip. “Is that why you wanted this job? To be fucked like a little maid?”

I was speechless. By his sudden dominance and the power he held on me, and the way I’d do whatever he told me scared me.

Jim, with one easy movement, ripped my little pink panties down my legs. I felt the cool breezy on my wet bare skin, and then his hot tip brushing between my slits. From behind me I could hear him groan at the sight. “Such a pretty little pussy,” He squeezed my soft thighs and spread them to look closely at my needy hole. “Good girl…”

Without a warning Jim began to push his throbbing cock into me. The deeper he went, the more he groaned, “mm, oh you’re so tight…” His hips pressed against my butt.

I could feel his thick cock stretching my wet walls, and hitting deep in my cervix. I gripped the countertop and my eyes rolled up while he began to slowly thrust himself into me. “Oh that’s good…” He moaned and his speed, and force grew pleasurably hard. My little body being fucked senselessly against his countertop, legs shaking and moaning far too loudly for my liking. I tried to bite my lip holding my sounds back, but each time I did Jim would slap my ass forcing me to whimper and moan at his command.

The sweet sound of moans, and wet skin slapping filled the room. My pleasure made me almost scream as he forcefully beat me with his cock. And the way he’d slap my ass made my pussy drip and tighten around him.

“Fuck…” He squeezed my ass pounding me forcefully, “You feel so much better than my wife… god you're just so sexy.” He groaned with an assertive tone. “You like that? You want my cock?”

“Mhm” I moaned with my eyes rolling into my head. I felt so close with the force of him hitting every good spot. I squeezed against him trying to hold back, but the pulsing and wetness caught his attention.

“Cum for me.” He demanded and landed a hard slap on my ass. “Cum on my cock.”

With the way his voice sounded, my legs shook and my pussy fluttered and pulsed against his cock. My sweet fluids dripped down my leg and soaked his length. I moaned so loudly he finally held his hand over my mouth muffling my orgasm.

I stood there barely able to keep myself up while he finished beating my insides. I couldn’t stay quiet as I continuously came until he pulled out. And when he did he stroked his cock eagerly, his cum spitting all over my clit and aching hole. It was hot, and thick. And before I could do anything he yanked my panties up, trapping his hot cum on my pussy.

I felt sticky and sensitive, and Jim quickly lifted his pants. He grabbed me and pulled my back against his chest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred. “I want you back here next week. And I’ll show you something that’ll need cleaning.”

I left his house and he paid me $200 cash. I felt like a prostitute in a way, but also real happy that I could finally take myself out to dinner and have something to look back to when I’d get into bed tonight.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I read about Johnny with shy!reader (it’s so adorable) and it gave me an idea. Idk to write down HOW they met but Johnny has a huge crush on her pre-relationship and he keeps asking shy!reader out on a date but shy!reader keeps rejecting him. Until she finally accepts going on a date with him. Johnny family are curious why Johnny is acting strange in a good way. Shy!Reader superhero friends are being protective of her. Please feel free to pick any superhero friends of shy!reader

I couldn’t think of anyone other than like Remy (gambit) so he’s here bc I wanted him to be. This was too long.

‘Come on, just one date!’ Johnny exclaims as he looks at you with his brown eyes, the very eyes they made you suddenly unable to maintain eye contact as your gaze suddenly found your hands more interesting.

‘I don’t think so Johnny, it’s not right.’ You try telling him, wanting nothing more than to be his next conquest to be bragged about inappropriately behind your back for points with other disgusting men. You had to admit that Johnny was attractive but his cocky, arrogant personality kind of spoilt any possibility of ever wanting to date him in the first place, that and your friend Remy Lebeau didn’t necessarily take kindly to him nor his careless view on relationships.

‘You deserve someone who’s going to treasure you, respect you and believe in you, not whatever that Johnny boy does to his poor partners.’ He told you one day when you informed him of Johnny’s insistent need to take you out on a date. Remy didn’t like this one bit and would even keep a close eye on him whenever they were on missions together, not wanting you to be in pain when getting involved with a man as vain as the one and only Johnny Storm.

‘This reminds me of a story I’ve read somewhere about a prideful and vain man called Narcissus.’ You said.

Remy rose a brow. ‘What happened to him?’

‘He was so vain and so full of himself that after rejecting a nymph called Echo, he ended up falling in love with his own reflection and ended up dying as a result.’ You replied and Remy couldn’t help but laugh and clap a hand on your shoulder.

‘If only it could be that simple mon cherie, if only.’ Remy says through laughter and you couldn’t help but smile in response before remembering your current situation with Johnny, fiddling with your fingers out of habit. ‘If only.’ You whispered to yourself, hoping that Johnny would grow bored of you and move on.

However Johnny didn’t get bored of you and move on like you had hoped, if anything he only became persistent in asking you out, so much to the point where you were openly rejecting him at least three times a week because of it. You honestly didn’t see what was so special about you to warrant his attention, you were the complete opposite of Johnny in every possible way, you two just wouldn’t work out but for some reason Johnny was heavily insistent that you would.

Johnny frowns at your words. ‘You’ve been saying that for months.’

‘And yet that hasn’t stopped you from pestering me for a date.’ You muttered under your breath as your magic flickered in response to your conflicting emotions. Sure Johnny was handsome, that was a given, but his reputation as a playboy unfortunately proceeds him as you attempted to put distance between the two of you; you weren’t giving your heart to someone who wasn’t going to treasure it. ‘Besides I find it hard that you can’t get a date from anyone else.’ You continued and you swore you saw a flicker of hurt within his eyes after saying this.

‘But I don’t want to date anyone else,’ Johnny cried as he grabbed your hands, causing your magic to spark as his warmth enveloped them, ‘I want to date you, just tell me how I can make my dream a reality my little magician.’ He adds softly as his deep brown eyes searched your own for the answers he wanted more then anything.

‘Quit it with the playboy stuff, it drive good people and draws in the bad.’ You advised him before leaving Johnny standing there as your words echoed within his head, he was determined to get that date with you and if it meant quitting his old ways then he’ll gladly do it, for he had harboured a crush on you the moment you had saved him by using your magic the first day you met. Johnny didn’t care that you weren’t confident or loud, he loved you for who you were and didn’t want you to change in the slightest, however he thought that nothing would ever come to pass between the two of you and he had looked to get his mind off of you by hooking up with other people.

Which in retrospect wasn’t exactly going to earn him any favours in asking his crush out. It also didn’t help that your friend Remy was protective over you but he couldn’t blame the Cajun man, what he could hold against him though was all the threats the mutant had given him in how he wasn’t the man you needed in your life, given the fact that he played love like it was a toy and you weren’t a toy to be played with. Johnny didn’t like it when Remy Lebeau could read him like a book because he knew he was right, and he knew that Remy was only an older brother figure to you and nothing more but that didn’t stop him from getting jealous from how much time you spent with him regardless; another thing that he knew you weren’t at all attracted to.

So if Johnny needed to prove he could change to win your heart, then he’ll gladly change to prove that he could.

After a long gruelling month passes by before you shared a mission with Johnny and news that he had left the playboy lifestyle behind him felt like a dream, something too good to be reality as you didn’t expect him to actually listen to you. So when the mission was over you could already see Johnny making his way towards you but instead of a shit eating grin, he was smiling softly at you and you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in the moment, pretty even as his eyes never once left you at all.

‘Hey little magician, long time no see.’ He greets you and for once you didn’t feel as though you had to force the smile as you look at him.

‘You’ve changed, I didn’t think you’d actually listen to me.’ You replied, cutting to the chase as it was the only thing that was at the forefront of your mind, dying to be let out the moment you saw Johnny act unlike himself or at least the Johnny you were more well acquainted with. Johnny shrugged. ‘You were right, I was only drawing the wrong kind of people with how I was doing things and now I hope I can draw the person I’ve been wanting to for along while.’ He responded with a soft smile that made you feel as though he was alighting a fire within you.

‘And who would they be?’ You asked, although you were more than aware of the answer but you just wanted to hear it come from his mouth and actually believe him.

‘Preferably you and only you if you’re available on this Sunday at 7pm.’ Johnny says as he watches your reaction closely, uncaring of the unamused Remy in the background who was watching like a hawk, you were the only one that mattered and he wasn’t about to let the Cajun ruin all his hard work becuase he didn’t like him being near you. Now normally you would’ve shut him down and walked away but this time was different and you knew it in the way he looked at you, you knew it in the way that you were actually tempting the idea and that you were finding yourself answer before your brain could catch up.

‘Yeah I would love to.’ Was what left your mouth as the way Johnny’s eyes shone like beautiful jewels and Remy’s looks of disbelief was all you could remember from that day. Meanwhile Johnny was back wt the Baxter building, rushing to get himself cleaned up before frustrating himself over what he should wear for your date in hopes of winning you over even more.

Sue, Reed and Ben could only watch as Johnny was smiling like some lovesick fool, constantly looking at his phone every so often as though he was waiting for something before going back to trashing his room for the perfect outfit.

‘Is he okay? He didn’t hit his head did he?’ Ben asked.

‘Looks like Johnny got himself a date.’ Reed replies before squinting his eyes as he watched the aforementioned male once again look at his phone just as it let him know that he had gotten a text. ‘He’s never looked this genuinely happy to go on a date in a long, long time.’ He then adds.

‘Whatever it is, I hope it stays like this because it’s clear to see that he obviously likes whoever this mysterious person is.’ Sue shrugs as she watched her brother knowingly, she knew about you from how often Johnny came to her about the one who kept getting away, you really must’ve set him straight enough for Johnny to actually be serious and change for the better and she couldn’t help but want to meet you even more because of it.

‘I can hear you all you know.’ Johnny said as he adjusted the black tie that completed his suited attire, he looked smart and handsome, something he never did at family dinners at all but for you he’d pull out all the stops even if it meant being in a expensive suit that he’ll never wear again. ‘And they’re here so don’t be embarrassing me okay?’ He adds sarcastically as he pats Reed on the shoulder, nudges Ben and hugs Sue before rushing to meet you by the entrance, his smile never once faltering at all as it only seemed to grow bigger upon his face to the point it hurt him.

Johnny didn’t care as he was quick to usher you in, he didn’t care that Reed, Ben and Sue were just behind him watching you both because they were bound to find out about you sooner or later, especially his sister whom he went to the moment you told him to drop his playboy act for advice almost immediately. Johnny didn’t care about anything because you were standing before him looking as beautiful as ever.

‘Hey.’ He says.

‘Hi.’ You replied.

You both smiled widely at each other for a good minute or two, much to Sue’s delight, secretly happy to see her brother happy and in the presence of the person who made him that genuinely happy. ‘You going to invite your date in or stare at them a little while longer.’ Ben interiors the cute moment, causing Johnny to look at him unamused while you fiddled with your hands that sparked with magic.

‘Dude.’ Johnny said but Ben only shrugged his shoulders.

‘What Ben wanted to say,’ Reed stepped in as he offered you a welcoming smile as did Sue as she stood next to him, allowing Reed to put his hand on her waist to pull her into his side as her hand easily fell to his chest, ‘welcome to the family y/n.’

[winedarkthoughts]

how to submit

↳🔒 pairing: dom!jimin x sub!fem.reader (feat. taehyung and jungkook)

↳📓 genre: bdsm!au, slight angst + fluff (aftercare)

↳☕ word count: 6.8k

↳🍳 summary: after countless unfulfilled nights, you finally cave and seek out the services of a professional dominant to meet your needs.

↳🕶 content warnings: anxiety, sex work, mentions of internalized kink/slut shaming, pre-established boundaries, master/sub dynamics, blindfolds, rope bondage, touch starvation,

↳🍕 a/n: inspired by transference by dark-muse-iris on ao3.

You never thought you’d ever regret arriving somewhere early. Until this exact moment.

It gave you too much time to overthink it all. It being the fact that, in just a few minutes, you’d be discussing the details of your very first professional BDSM session.

You chose a table on the cafe’s sunny patio instead of inside, since the chatter outside meant a lower chance of any other patrons overhearing the quickly approaching conversation. A conversation you never thought you’d actually be having with a real person. Not face to face, at least.

You’re clutching your iced coffee in your hands, using the chill to ground you.

Honestly, you’re impressed with yourself for going through with this, for giving yourself something you’ve always wanted. If you can manage to get through the initial nerves, maybe you’ll even allow yourself to enjoy it.

Just as you’re about to check the clock for the twenty-sixth time, you hear someone approaching your table. Several someones.

Throat momentarily closing, all you can think is don’t freeze, don’t freeze, don’t freeze. You can’t make yourself look up until they’re hovering at the edge of the table, waiting for you to acknowledge them.

First your gaze meets their shoes. Two pairs of sneakers and one pair of black Chelsea boots. You only force your eyes to move any higher until you hear one of them say your name in a questioning tone.

A beat of silence...that becomes much too long.

You take a deep breath, swallow hard, and think of the only string of words that helps you push yourself out of your comfort zone.

Fuck it.

“Hi,” you finally respond. “Yes, that’s me. Please, have a seat.”

They take you up on your offer with polite, and slightly relieved, smiles.

“I’m Jimin.” The man wearing the boots says cheerfully, extending a hand for you to shake. He’s dressed in a button-up coat, blonde hair styled up out of his face.

He slips the chic black sunglasses off his nose, revealing a pair of kind brown eyes. He’s very attractive, almost unfairly so. It makes you want to avoid eye contact.

The one wearing a white t-shirt and backwards cap makes that easier by introducing himself next.

“Taehyung,” he says, shaking your hand as well.

He’s gorgeous too damnit, with black hair curling at the nape of his neck under his hat.

Move on, move on. Immediately averting your eyes, you turn to the third man.

“I’m Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you,” he says shaking your hand firmly.

You’ve got to be kidding. Wide, doe eyes, long brown hair hanging in front of his face. He’s dressed in joggers and an oversized sweatshirt, all black.

Every single one of them is extremely attractive. You can’t tell if it makes this whole thing easier or harder.

“Thank you all for meeting with me,” you say, looking at each of them very briefly before returning your eyes to your drink.

“Thank you for contacting us! We're excited to discuss some details,” Jimin replies, sounding enthusiastic.

Your gut does a little flip.

You’re reminded of the fact that before scheduling this initial consultation, you’d spoken at length with Jimin online about your preferences for the session. But there’s something about being a faceless avatar, about hiding behind a screen, that gave you enough courage to talk openly about your fantasies. In-person was another story.

The fact that the three of them had all agreed to meet with you, had all agreed that you’d be “a good fit,” was somehow just as unnerving as it was reassuring.

It made perfect sense for all of them to be in the know about their clients, they were business partners after all, and you should be glad to hear that they were considering taking you on, but something about being the one with all their cards showing...it makes you squirm.

Maybe he senses how nervous you are, because then Jimin is suggesting that they go order something themselves. Jimin and Taehyung get up to go inside the cafe, leaving you alone with Jungkook. 

You’re equally relieved and nervous at the fact. On one hand, it discourages you from making a hasty, anxiety-fueled escape that you’d most likely regret later. On the other hand, you now have to make conversation while simultaneously pretending that you aren’t sweating straight through your clothes. 

Stealing a glance, you watch him brush the fluffy hair out of his eyes. He looks at you warmly, calmly.

There’s something about Jungkook that makes him a little less intimidating compared to Taehyung and Jimin. Maybe it’s his oversized clothes or his doe eyes. Either way, you feel a little less apprehensive around him.

“So, how’d you hear about us?” he asks, saving you from the awkward silence. You suppose they must be used to dealing with nervous newcomers.

“Oh umm...google.” 

Mmm hmm “google.” That’s the short version. You don’t mention how it took you weeks to simply type “BDSM” plus the name of your city into the search bar.

Not to mention the hours spent staring at the glowing screen in an otherwise dark room (secrets seem safest in the dark), plucking up the courage to finally admit that you have kinky desires, let alone book a consultation.

“Oh yeah? Most people seem to find us through social media,” Jungkook replies.

Yes, you’ve looked into their social media platforms. They’re quite popular on Instagram and TikTok. They don’t show their full faces in their videos though, only partially. You suppose that makes perfect sense if you want to retain some anonymity or have a side gig, but after seeing how attractive they all are, you can’t but think that they’d be even more popular if they—

“Is this your first time?” Jungkook asks. It must’ve looked like you were spacing out, because he’s tilting his head trying to catch your gaze.

You meet his eyes for a moment before shifting your focus down to your fidgeting hands.

“Mm hm. Yup.”

“First time engaging in kink or first time with a professional dom?”

Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. When your eyes flick up to follow the action, he’s still watching you with that warm smile on his face.

It’s hard for you to believe that the endearing man sitting in front of you is a “professional dom,” as he calls it. Especially when his form is engulfed by his humongous clothes, sleeves hanging well past his wrists.

You don’t realize that he’s asked you a question until he cocks his head to the side, waiting patiently.

“Oh! Umm, sorry. Kind of both I guess,” you answer.

He chuckles, and all you can think is oh god he’s laughing at me oh god this was a bad idea this—

“You don’t have to be so nervous, you know,” he says reassuringly. “I know our website says we can be selective with our clients, but we already think you’d be a good fit. I mean, Jimin was pretty much sold after he read your responses to the prompts.”

You remember answering those prompts. After you’d mustered up the courage to reach out to them, the application process began with an individual profile and a questionnaire. You remember being equally impressed and intimidated by their attention to detail.

Most of the questions were pretty basic (kinks, preferences, boundaries), but towards the end they delved far deeper than you expected, asking things like why does BDSM appeal to you, what’s your own definition of a healthy, consensual scene, what made you seek out the services of a professional dom, etc.

And yes, maybe you got a little carried away with your responses since no one had ever expressed interest in them before, but obviously it benefited you in the end.

A bit of tension eases inside your chest, along with an exhale of relief.

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” you breathe out, cracking your first real smile, and Jungkook returns it with earnest.

“So, um, how long have you guys been doing this?” you ask, finally starting to find your voice after Jungkook shared that bit of comforting information.

“Five years now. Really, it’s crazy how time has flown by,” Jungkook says. “It started out as a hobby. I met Jimin and Tae at a Fetish Con, and we just instantly hit it off.”

You try and fail to imagine Jungkook’s sweater and joggers switched for latex and chains. It’s a little hard to picture him being assertive at all, really.

“We started growing and networking, and soon it turned from a side gig to a real business! We’re really lucky to get to do what we love for a living.”

His eyes shine with passion, and it’s clear that he genuinely enjoys his work.

It reassures you even more. One of the reasons you’d never engaged in any kind of kink before was because of a persistent fear of the other person feeling burdened by your desires. You’d never felt comfortable enough to divulge any of your kinks in case your partner was only going along with it because of you and not truly enjoying it themselves.

By using the services of a professional dom, it was much more likely that they would derive just as much pleasure as you during the experience. And you wouldn’t have to feel guilty because you were compensating them for their time.

“So, how long have you been interested in this kind of stuff?” he asks, voice filled with good-natured curiosity.

In an instant, you’re brought back to every sleepless, unfulfilled night. Every time one of your past partners couldn’t get you to cum, every time you were left wanting more after vanilla sex.

That same ache, the ache that comes with wanting something you’re ashamed of, creeps right back into your mind. An itch left unscratched for too long.

You’re brought back to the glow of your laptop screen in the dead of night, fingers hesitating over the keyboard in your desperate search. At first, a search for like-minded people so you wouldn’t feel so alone. Then, eventually, for someone willing to scratch the itch itself.

Jungkook brings you back to the present by fiddling with his earrings.

“Umm...awhile,” you finally reply.

Even though your response is brief, Jungkook still nods his head in understanding.

“Vanilla just doesn’t do it, huh?” he asks playfully.

“No, not really,” you say, chuckling along with him.

“Sometimes...” you begin, trying to find the words to describe it. “Sometimes it’s not even about sex at all. Sometimes it’s about the catharsis, you know? I just want to turn my brain off sometimes, give someone else the reins, if that makes any sense?”

Jungkook nods, a knowing smile on his lips.

“I think we’re gonna get along real well,” he says.

It’s then that Jimin and Taehyung return with their order, placing various drinks and pastries on the table.

“Caffe latte and butter croissant,” Taehyung says, passing said items to Jimin.

“Hot chocolate and cinnamon roll,” Jimin replies, passing said items to Taehyung.

“And a cold brew with a peanut butter cookie,” Taehyung finishes, passing said items to Jungkook.

You notice that Jungkook never told them his order. Either they took a lucky guess, or they must know each other pretty well.

“Everything going okay over here?” Jimin asks, shooting you another radiant grin.

You can only hold eye contact for a few seconds, feeling blinded. They’re so handsome it’s almost criminal.

“Mm hmm,” you mumble, sipping on your coffee to distract yourself.

“Good, good,” Jimin replies, running a hand through his hair.

 He stirs a few sugars into his latte, lazily swirling the spoon as he scans you up and down.

“So, were you looking for recurring services?” he asks.

Your hands tighten around your cup.

Yes, yes you are. But is that too much to ask? Will that scare them away? Do they even do that sort of thing?

Clearing your throat, you remind yourself why you’re here. Fuck it.

“Mm hmm,” you affirm with downcast eyes, fighting the shame bubbling up in your throat. “If that’s okay with you guys. If the first session goes well, I mean. You know, if you do that kind of thing. And if you’re willing, you know.”

You hear them chuckle.

“Of course!” Jimin says, cheerful as ever.

You don’t see it, but he’s been trying to catch your gaze ever since he sat down.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself,” Jimin jokes. “For the first session, we usually recommend a one-on-one scene so you can get comfortable.”

Now you’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, honed in on every word they’re saying despite avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Okay, sounds good,” you reply.

Jimin tilts his head to the side, an amused smile on his face.

He can tell that you’re nervous, and that you’re shying away from his gaze. But you have nothing to worry about, if only he could express that with his eyes if you’d just look at him.

“Do you have any preference when it comes to who conducts your first scene?” Taehyung asks.

They all know that Jimin usually volunteers for the first session. He’s the best at planning and easing in the newbies, establishing the sacred trust that makes their job so fulfilling. He always enjoys chipping away at the exterior, no matter how tough, to get at the soft center that just wants love and acceptance and relief.

You shake your head, still looking anywhere but their faces.

“Alright then,” Jimin says, immediately deciding that he wants to be the one to break down your walls and give you what you really need.

“So all that’s left is the consent forms, since you’ve already completed the questionnaire,” Jimin continues, handing over a few sheets of paper.

Oh god, it’s really happening. Holy fuck...

You can hardly believe it. Heart beating fast and loud enough to worry that they might hear it, you take the forms and scribble out the last few signatures.

It’s okay you dumb bitch, you hear in your head. Just calm down and don’t fuck this up.

Jimin calls your name and you whip your head up, only to avert your eyes immediately.

“Sorry, sorry!” you blurt out almost instinctively. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“No worries!” Jungkook replies, tilting his head to the side to try to catch your gaze like Jimin is still doing.

But your eyes dart around to avoid looking at any of them.

You’re a tough nut to crack, all three of them will admit that much.

You don’t see it, but Taehyung and Jungkook look at each other, sharing a knowing smile. They all enjoy a challenge, especially when the challenge presents such a compelling reward. Because from the looks of it, you share all of the same interests, values, and boundaries that they're compatible with.

Once you hand back the forms, Jimin pulls out a black composition notebook.

Taehyung and Jungkook know what that means. Now you're getting into the thick of it, the juicy details.

Jimin always takes detailed notes, preferring to flesh out the scene in writing so it practically comes alive under his hands. Taehyung and Jungkook will take occasional notes, on their phones or on post-its, preferring to listen and let their imagination fill in the gaps. But Jimin finds a particular joy in acting as the main orchestrator of each session.

Your first scene will be first and foremost about building trust, Jimin tells you.

"We'll get you nice and comfortable with the dynamic, exploring what works best," he explains enthusiastically, pen twirling in his hand.

The scene will be bondage-focused, nonsexual, with Jimin as your dom.

There's a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and it isn't helped by the fact that Jimin still keeps trying to hold eye contact with you.

The four of you chat for a while longer, discussing the finer details. Jimin advises you to wear comfortable clothing, and to show up well-rested and hydrated.

You can't believe this is actually happening.

"I should probably let you know," you begin, hesitantly. "I have an anxiety disorder, and there is a possibility that I might have some sort of...attack."

They're watching you so intently, and their eyes are filled with nothing but openness and understanding. You're not used to it.

"That's perfectly fine. We're quite familiar with working with anxiety. If you have an attack or feel one coming on, we'll be there to help you through it. Make sure to bring your medication, if you take any," Taehyung advises.

You nod, mostly to yourself, making a mental note to bring extra pills to the session. You're hoping that the scene will be a temporary relief from your anxiety, but there's always the possibility that your mind will find a way to sabotage that.

"Thank you for letting us know," Jimin says, giving you another warm glance.

It makes a different kind of warmth bloom in your stomach, the warmth of understanding and acceptance.

You sign a few more forms, discuss a few more details. Then the four of you are shaking hands and saying your goodbyes.

You walk away from the cafe with a racing heartbeat, equal parts nervous and excited.

You're early again, sitting in your car in the tiny parking lot. Their location is in a downtown neighborhood of old, cottage-like houses that have been converted into small businesses, all painted neutral shades of blue and white.

The sign by the driveway reads P.K.J. It's their surnames (Park, Kim, Jeon), nondescript and unassuming. Though if you were to look at it a different way, the P could very well be a cursive D, and the J could be a swirling letter S. DKS, Designed Kink Scenes. The name of their BDSM service.

So you know you're in the right place, and the minutes are quickly ticking by.

It's a cute little place, with a cobblestone pathway leading to the front door and flowerbeds under lush trees shading the yard. Not at all what you'd expect when you think of a sex dungeon. Or...whatever they would call their place of business.

You came close to bailing several times, your anxiety seeming to creep up your throat as your breathing picked up speed. But after popping a few prescription pills, you were able to calm yourself down. And you know you really want this. If you chickened out now, you know you'd regret it.

So when the clock strikes five till, you take a deep breath and force yourself out of the car, muttering another quiet fuck it to yourself.

There's an intercom button next to the door, and you press it after wiping the sweat from your palms.

"Hello! Who is it?" a chipper voice calls, sounding like Jungkook.

"Hi!" you squeak out, maybe sounding a little too excited. "It's ____, I'm here for my...appointment."

Appointment? Session? You aren't sure what to call it. But Jungkook knows what you mean.

"Okay! Jimin will be there in just a minute!"

You're only kept waiting about fifteen seconds. The door opens to reveal Jimin dressed in jeans and black cap, greeting you with a radiant grin.

"Hi! Glad you could make it," he says, every bit as cheerful as Jungkook, but there's a mischievous tone to his voice. He gives you a slight smirk as he opens the door wider to let you in.

Ah. He must've seen you waiting in your car for the last twenty minutes, anxiously twitching and talking to yourself as you debated on whether to abandon the entire endeavor.

"Ha ha," you say awkwardly, deadpan. Jimin just chuckles, as if to say just teasing.

You enter into what looks like a very small waiting room. Clean carpets, thriving houseplants, calming paintings on the walls, and two plush armchairs.

There's comfortable silence as Jimin leads you up a set of narrow stairs and into another room. It's painted in the same neutral colors, beige and cream, with floor mats to soften the ground. Various cabinets and dressers line the walls, and you don't have to guess what they're storing.

"Alright," Jimin says, cracking his knuckles after he closes the door behind you. The small gesture sends shivers down your spine.

"Go ahead and put your stuff down here and disrobe to your comfort level."

You do as he says, setting down your bag and slipping off your shoes. Just being in your socks seems strangely vulnerable. You opted for a pair of comfortable leggings and loose tank top, not quite ready to show any more skin than strictly necessary.

Jimin digs through a few drawers, and when he turns around, several bundles of rope hang from his hands. It's then that you notice how the muscles of his arms strain against the sleeves of his gray sweater.

He's a lean man, but certain parts of his body are especially defined. His thick thighs in those jeans, the sharp jawline and chiseled neck, the way his top slopes down the slight curve of his chest. Even his hands, distinctly veined and sinewy, are eye-catching.

He's looking at you from under his cap, calculating.

“Come here,” he says, his voice gentle but firm.

You immediately step onto the mat where he wants you.

The ropes still dangling from his hand, he begins to walk in a slow circle around you, methodically scanning you up and down.

“Tell me your safe word,” he commands gently.

“Turtleneck,” you reply, earning a small smile from him.

“Good.” Just that one word makes you feel weak in the knees, because something in his voice changes. His tone deepens, seeming to curl around the edges, and it drips with authority. It says you will listen now, I’m in charge.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” he says, still circling around you. “I'm going to tie you up, and then we'll talk for a bit."

Your brows furrow slightly, eyes fixed to the bamboo-colored mat under your feet.

"Talk?" you say. About what?

"Yes," Jimin replies swiftly. "I'd like to get to know you, _______."

Somehow, that idea is more terrifying than everything else combined.

Again, you offer nothing but another awkward, deadpan laugh.

"Won't you kneel for me?" His voice drips like poisonous honey.

You swallow the nervous buildup in your throat, and after a few moments of hesitation, you drop to the floor one knee at a time.

Jimin smiles at you, pleased.

"Good," he praises. "We'll go nice and slow, okay? I know you're nervous."

How does he manage to sound so comforting and authoritative at the same time? It's something about his voice, naturally high-pitched but with an edge that he uses to his advantage.

You manage a nod.

"And from now on, I'd like you to use your words," he instructs.

You nod again, but he raises an eyebrow at you.

"Uh, yes, okay," you mutter.

The corner of Jimin's mouth twitches like he isn't quite satisfied. He begins to circle you again.

"Hmm, what should I have you call me?" he says, half to himself.

There's a pause of reflection, and you start to ask a question before you can help it. Jimin looks at you after you cut yourself off.

"Speak, lovely," he instructs. Being called "lovely" from anyone else would surely make you cringe, but somehow Jimin makes it work effortlessly, making your face heat up a bit at being the target of a pet name.

"What do you like to be called?" you ask curiously. You may be paying him to perform a service, but kink is a two-way street, and you want him to enjoy himself as much as possible too.

He offers another radiant smile in response.

"What a good question," he practically purrs, smirking slightly.

You're starting to descend into that special headspace. You're being good, you're pleasing him.

"I'd like to be your Master, if you'd let me," he says, maintaining strong eye contact.

It makes you rip your eyes away and look down at the floor.

"Yes...Master," you say with a little effort. It's a bit awkward, but you want to please him.

"Look at me," Jimin orders, more firmly.

Now, that takes even more effort. Jimin is a particularly hard man to look in the eyes. You were hoping to avoid it for as long as possible.

"That's an order, lovely," he says, soft yet stern.

It takes you a minute, you'll admit. You feel the tell-tale signs of anxiety, ants under your skin, twitching fingers, darting eyes. Your heart rate is rising rapidly.

"Hey," Jimin suddenly says, dropping to one knee in front of you. He puts a cautious yet comforting hand on the side of your face, and when you melt into it instead of jerking away (surprising even yourself), he lets his thumb stroke across your cheek.

"You're okay, ______," he says soothingly. "You're here with me, I've got you."

The touch helps, calming down your heart rate a bit. It gives you the strength to finally meet his eyes.

They're warm and soft and concerned, drinking in your reactions. They crinkle a bit with his smile when you meet his gaze.

"Good, good girl," he says.

It sends another wave of comfort through you.

"Do you want to stop? Take a break?" he asks.

"No," you blurt out almost immediately. If you stop now you'll have to ease back into that headspace. No, you can work through this. Your anxiety won't beat you this time.

Deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, like your therapist taught you. You're fine, you're grounded, you got this.

"I want to keep going," you say, putting effort into communicating your desires.

"You sure?" he asks.

You nod with a smile of your own, and then remember what he said.

"Yes," you reply. Then playfully add, "Master."

He smiles again and nods, rising back to a stand.

"How about we try this," he says, going to one of the drawers and shuffling around. He returns with a length of white cloth.

"Then you won't have to think about what you see," he adds.

Glancing at him briefly, you nod in agreement.

Jimin steps behind you and wraps the cloth around your eyes, tying it behind your head while being careful not to pull your hair. When the knot is secure, he smooths down the material so you're well and truly blind.

"How's that?" he asks.

"Good," you reply. The darkness helps. Just like he said, it's one less thing to think about.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, self-consciousness creeping in.

"None of that, lovely," Jimin replies, still calm yet strict. "I won't have it. There's nothing to apologize for."

Still, the same gloomy feeling lingers a bit.

"If you still feel the need, you can say "thank you" instead," he suggests.

A pause.

"Thank you." Then you add hesitantly, "Master."

You hear him chuckle.

"Very good."

He's approaching you again, along with the sound of rope being threaded through his hands.

"I'm going to put you in a type of chest harness that will restrict your arms, is that alright?" Jimin asks.

''Alright," you reply, shifting on your knees, eager to really get started.

"Give me your wrists."

You obey, holding them out in front of you.

He starts to loop the rope around them, at one point using two fingers to test the tightness. You can't see what he's doing, but you feel the slight burn from the rope, the tug as knots are secured.

"So tell me, _______," Jimin begins as he works the rope. "What do you do for a living?"

You give him the small-talk answer, simple and lacking details.

"Hmm, do you enjoy it?"

Ah, no one's ever asked you that before. Not even relatives at family gatherings.

"Enough, I suppose," you reply, beginning to feel the first stirrings of vulnerability. "I mean, it's nice to work alone for the most part, and the work isn't that laborious."

Jimin hums to himself like he's thinking.

"Do you enjoy being alone?" he asks.

A pause.

"Yes," you finally reply. "It's safer, I guess. I only really feel safe when I'm alone."

"Hmm, palms together," he orders, and you obey.

Jimin guides your arms up so your tied wrists are held above your head, then he gently moves your arms to bend at the elbow, your hands now resting near the back of your neck.

You can't help but gasp when he pulls on the rope to wrench them back just a little further.

"Color?" he asks cooly.

"Green," you answer, a little breathless. You're starting to feel it now, the sense of helplessness that comes with being bound. With every passing minute, he's making you more immobile. And it makes heat coil lower and deeper.

Then he's using the tail end of the rope binding your wrists to wrap around your torso.

"Introverted, huh?" he asks, starting to wrap the rope around your chest. A pass underneath your breasts, then up to your shoulder, down the other shoulder, then just above your breasts.

"Yes," you answer, slightly out of breath from the speed at which he's now tying you. "Always have been. It's a little annoying, to be honest."

"Oh? How so?" Jimin asks, tying off the knot.

"Well," you begin, the blindness and chest harness making you feel more vulnerable. "I wish I could enjoy being with people more. But I'm just so picky with who I spend my time with."

Jimin hums as he checks the tightness of the tie.

"There's nothing wrong with being selective about your company. Life is short, after all," he says.

Your upper body is now restricted, rope weaving around your chest, arms bent back. You can hear Jimin uncoiling another spool of rope.

"I'd like to secure you to the ceiling. Is that okay?" he asks.

You nod, feeling your mind go a bit fuzzy.

"I'll wait," Jimin says, sounding a bit more stern.

"Yes," you blurt out, remembering to verbalize. "That's okay."

"That's a good girl," he practically purs, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You nearly shiver. Jimin notices.

You can hear him stringing the rope to some kind of hook in the ceiling, and then he's connecting it to the rope binding your wrists.

"Are you cruel?" you can't help but blurt out.

He freezes for a split second, then he lets out a chuckle.

"Do I seem cruel?" he says playfully. Then he yanks at the rope so you feel a little jerk, and it sends a jolt through your stomach.

"Only in the good way," you manage to reply.

He chuckles again, a light, tinkling sound.

"I can get cruel at times," he says. "But only towards those that deserve it."

"Do you think I deserve it?" you blurt out again, feeling bold.

There's a pause of silence.

"Maybe. We'll see," he says softly.

Footsteps as he walks around you in a slow circle.

"So work is just okay. What about relationships?" he asks.

You move your head a little towards where you think he is in the room.

"Not the best either. Haven't really been involved in anything long term in a while," you reply.

"And why is that?"

You hesitate, squirming a little in your bonds.

"I guess I have trouble trusting people. And I've never been comfortable enough with anyone to tell them about my...sexual proclivities," you admit, looking towards the ground even though you're blindfolded.

"Hmm, and how long have you had kinky desires," Jimin asks, sounding genuinely interested, still circling you in slow measured steps.

It makes you feel a bit like a bug under a microscope.

"Ever since I can remember," you say, and it feels like ripping a bandaid off. "I remember fantasizing about being tied up before I even knew what sex was. When I shared that with my ex, he called me a freak. I didn't want to tell anyone else after that."

"That's quite a common experience with kinky people, feeling alienated. But there's a lot of us out there who fully understand and embrace the way power dynamics and sex are intertwined. It's just a matter of finding people you connect with," Jimin says.

You feel a little wave of relief wash over you, because it seems that you found exactly that. Maybe your seemingly endless feeling of dissatisfaction is finally over.

You hear Jimin stepping towards you, his hand coming to the rope securing you to the ceiling. He unties it, letting it plop to the ground, and you can't help but feel a little disappointed.

Then, he's got two fingers in the back of your chest harness, giving you a gently tug towards him.

"Don't worry, lovely," he says into your ear. "I'm not quite done with you yet."

You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until you hear yourself gasp when he releases you. It's only then that you realize your arms and shoulders have gone a little numb and tingly.

"I'm going to release your arms, and then I'll bind your legs, okay?" he says.

"Yes, Master," you breath out as the ropes start to go slack around you.

"Good girl. You're learning quick."

He quickly unties the ropes securing your arms and wrists, gently rubbing your skin as he does so to bring back some feeling. He leaves the chest harness in place, his hands coming to reposition you the way he wants: on your knees, slightly elevated on your toes so your legs aren't completely folded underneath you.

He quickly gets to work winding rope around your left side, securing your thigh to your lower leg near your ankle. Then, the right side bound just the same. Then he grasps your wrists in front of you, tying them together and lowering them to let your hands rest between your legs.

There is the urge to reach lower, to relieve some of the tension there, but you won't. Not during this session. 

"How do you feel?" Jimin asks when he's done.

You're feeling floaty, so it takes a few seconds for you to gather your thoughts.

"Good, green," you almost whisper. "Like I'm..."

You trail off.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart. Go on and use your words," Jimin orders gently.

"Like I'm safe," you finally say, feeling silly saying it out loud.

"Is that a strange feeling for you?" Jimin asks, once again sounding genuinely interested.

"I guess so. I don't know but, as a woman, when you tell a man that you want them to dominate you, they usually think that means pulling your hair, tearing your clothes off, calling you a "bitch" or "slut" or something. But that's not really dominance. It can be enjoyable if you're into that kinda thing, but the men I've dated seem to think that that's all I'm looking for when I say I want kinky sex," you say, tongue feeling loose now that you're getting comfortable.

"And what is it that you want?" Jimin asks softly.

You think for a moment.

"It's not about pain or being powerless by itself. It's about someone else taking control of you out of care and love, treating your surrender as something almost sacred. It's about giving it to someone you trust and them respecting you back because of it. Does that makes sense?"

You hear a soft chuckle from Jimin.

"Yes, it makes perfect sense."

"I mean, I'm not saying "all men," but a whole fuckin' lot of them seem to think that bdsm is just violent sex. But it's not just that! It's a way for both people to feel release through control."

There's a moment of silence as you realize just how much you've been talking.

"Sorry, I'm rambling," you blurt out.

"I like hearing you talk," Jimin immediately replies, an almost challenging tone in his voice.

"Just like yous said, kink is a two-way street. Both parties have to be willing to not only listen to each other, but also put in the effort to communicate their thoughts and desires."

You wriggle a little, feeling the tight sensation of ropes around your wrists and legs, the cloth tied tight around your eyes.

"A real dominant will implement discipline and control through the lens of acceptance and love, not condemnation," Jimin goes on.

You hear him get to the floor, feel the heat of his body behind you.

"I'd like to guide you, _______. Instruct you, mold you, challenge you, support you, help you blossom into your full potential," he says, his mouth by your ear.

"I'd like to be the one to help you become more comfortable with expressing your needs. And it will become easier, trust me," he says with a little chuckle.

You can't help but laugh along, feeling nice and fuzzy in the head.

"May I rub your back?" Jimin asks, and you nod in response. He again chuckles softly, as if to say I'll forgive you this time for not using your words.

His hands come up to massage your shoulders, fingers skimming over the rope weaved around your torso. 

At some point, he slowly unties the ropes around your thighs, rubbing the skin to bring back some feeling. He switches between massaging your back and untying your bonds, muttering soft reassurances in your ear.

And you didn't realize just how touch starved you felt until now. Every press of his fingertips makes you want to melt further into his embrace, the feel of his skin on yours is almost intoxicating.

When he finally moves to untie your blindfold, you've got moisture building up behind your eyelids.

Jimin's face softens at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes.

"Hey, it's okay, lovely," he mutters gently, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"I'm so proud of you," he assures you, tracing a thumb across your cheek. "You did so good for me."

That gives you the courage to finally look into his eyes.

"Really?" you practically squeak out, rubbing at your eyes.

"Of course!" Jimin insists. "You were open and honest, communicative and responsive. A very good first session, I'd say."

You still shrink in on yourself a bit.

"But I—" you start, something within you still wanting to protest.

But Jimin grabs your hand and yanks it towards him, placing your palm over his chest. You feel the thumping of his heartbeat.

"It was a good scene," he says, voice calming yet commanding. "You can see that I enjoyed it."

That makes a slight blush bloom across your cheeks.

"Cute," Jimin says, chuckling.

Now that the fuzziness is clearing up, you register more details. The black cap on Jimin's head as he adjusts it, the silver earrings dangling from his ears, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin.

"Come here," he mutters, bringing you close to his body. He cradles you against his torso, running his hands up and down your arms in comforting movements.

You don't realize that your eyelids are fluttering until he mutters, "You're quite endearing like this."

"What time is it?" you mumble, looking for a clock.

Jimin's laugh reverberates through your back.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We've got time," he says.

But now that you're slipping from that special headspace, you don't want to overstay your welcome.

"My jacket..." you start, moving towards your bag. But Jimin shushes your protests and gently pushes you back down.

"Don't get up, I'll get it," he reassures. He returns and wraps your jacket around your shoulders a few moments later, then wrapping his arms around you too.

"Five more minutes, okay lovely? Just relax," he coaxes, tucking your head underneath his chin, and it's unclear if he's informing you of a fact or making an excuse for himself.

A few more blissful minutes later, and Jimin is shifting you into an upright position.

"There we go," he says, guiding you to stand.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yes," you reply, just a little breathlessly. "Just very relaxed."

"I'm glad to hear it," Jimin replies with a smile. "Will you be alright getting home? We'd be happy to give you a ride."

"No, I'm fine, I'm good," you insist, and after scanning your face, Jimin relents.

"Um, do you take tips?" you ask hesitantly, reaching for your wallet.

But Jimin just smiles and waves you off.

"Trust me, you've done more than enough," he says.

"But, I do have some homework for you," he says.

When you nod in agreement, he leans forward to whisper it in your ear.

"Have a good rest of your day, ______," Jimin says, leading you out the door.

"Thanks, you too," you reply, feeling light and relieved from the session.

You don't notice it, but Jimin watches you get into your car and drive off until you're out of sight. 

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i'd love to hear any of your thoughts :) let me know if you' like to see me expand on this au!

[theartofcollapse]

hey idk if this crosses a line with anything but maybe an olivia imagine where the reader got spiked while at a bar and called olivia when she realized something felt wrong and liv shows up and takes her home and kind of just takes care of her

a/n: thank you for requesting! summary: read it above pairing: Olivia Benson x female reader warnings: mention of drugs, vomiting word count: 1.7K

masterlist

Safe – Olivia Benson

The bar buzzed with energy as patrons crowded around tables, clinking glasses and laughing over the pounding music. You had come here to unwind after a long week, convinced by a coworker that a night out would help clear your head. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

The first drink went down fine, just a light buzz to loosen the tension in your shoulders. But the second drink? That’s when you noticed something wasn’t right.

The world around you blurred, and your limbs felt heavy. Your head swam, thoughts sluggish and disconnected. You leaned against the bar for balance, your hand fumbling for your phone in your bag. Panic rose in your chest. You hadn’t had that much to drink.

You scrolled through your contacts, your fingers trembling as you found Olivia’s name. You hadn’t known her for long, just a few weeks, but there was something about her calm presence, her unwavering sense of justice, that made you feel safe.

The phone rang twice before she picked up.

“Y/N?” Her voice was steady but tinged with concern.

“Olivia,” you slurred, your words heavy on your tongue. “Something’s wrong. I.. I think someone put something in my drink.”

There was a pause, sharp and deliberate. “Where are you?”

You rattled off the name of the bar as best as you could, clinging to the edge of the counter.

“Stay right there,” Olivia said, her voice firm and reassuring. “I’m on my way. Don’t move, and don’t let anyone near you.”

You clung to those words like a lifeline, your vision growing hazier by the second.

The blur of neon lights and muffled sounds began to sharpen as Olivia entered the bar. She scanned the room with practiced precision, her eyes landing on you slumped at the counter. Her jaw tightened, and she moved through the crowd with purpose.

“Y/N,” she said softly, crouching beside you. She placed a steadying hand on your arm. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

You blinked up at her, relief flooding through you. “Olivia…”

Her hand brushed your hair back from your face. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay.”

Standing, Olivia’s sharp gaze swept the room. It didn’t take long for her to spot a man lingering a few seats away, watching you with a nervous, guilty expression.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she pulled out her phone, stepping just far enough away to call Elliot.

“Elliot,” she said, her voice low but firm. “I need you at the Silver Moon Bar. Now. There’s a suspect I need picked up, possible drugging.”

Elliot didn’t hesitate. “I’m on my way.”

Olivia returned to your side, placing a protective arm around your shoulders. “We’re going to get you out of here,” she said, guiding you gently to your feet.

The man tried to slink away, but Olivia’s sharp command stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t even think about it.”

Her presence alone was enough to keep him rooted in place until Elliot arrived, his arrival swift and professional as he handcuffed the man and read him his rights.

The drive to Olivia’s apartment was quiet, her car filled with the soft hum of the heater. 

Once inside her apartment, Olivia guided you to the couch, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders.

“Do you want some water? Tea?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Water, please,” you murmured, your throat dry.

She disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth, which she placed lightly on your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

Olivia knelt in front of you, her warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Hey,” she said softly, her hand resting lightly on your knee. “You did the right thing. You called me, and I’m glad you did.”

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming fear and vulnerability of the night finally catching up to you. Olivia didn’t hesitate, pulling you into a firm but gentle embrace.

“You’re safe now,” she murmured, her voice steady and comforting. “I promise.”

Olivia’s grip tightened ever so slightly as she felt you shudder in her arms. You pulled back abruptly, your body lurching with nausea.

“Bathroom - ” you managed to choke out before clapping a hand over your mouth.

Olivia was on her feet instantly, guiding you down the hall to her bathroom. She helped you kneel in front of the toilet just as the wave of nausea overtook you. You vomited, your stomach twisting violently, and tears streamed down your face from the strain.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Olivia murmured from behind you. She knelt beside you, her hand holding your hair back while her other gently rubbed circles on your back.

Once the worst of it was over, you sagged against the side of the tub, trembling. Sweat beaded on your forehead, and you were suddenly aware of how cold you felt despite your overheated skin.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice weak and shaky.

Olivia grabbed a washcloth, running it under cool water before gently pressing it to your clammy face. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault,” she said firmly, her voice carrying that steady authority that made you feel safe.

The bathroom felt too bright, too small, and the nausea lingered, though not as violently as before. You curled in on yourself, shivering despite the sweat that clung to your skin.

“You’re freezing,” Olivia noted, worry flickering across her face. She grabbed a blanket she’d left on the couch earlier and draped it over your shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here. You’ll feel better lying down.”

You nodded faintly, letting her help you to your feet. Your legs felt like jelly, and she practically carried you down the hall to her bedroom.

“I don’t want to ruin your bed,” you protested weakly, clutching at the blanket.

“Y/N, don’t worry about that,” Olivia said softly, but her tone left no room for argument. She helped you onto the bed, tucking the covers around you snugly.

“Stay here,” she instructed, brushing the hair from your face again. “I’m going to grab some water and a bucket, just in case.”

You nodded, your teeth chattering now. The cold seeped deep into your bones, and you couldn’t stop trembling.

Olivia returned quickly, setting a glass of water and a bucket by the bedside. She sat down beside you, her eyes scanning your pale face.

“You’re still sweating,” she noted, reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you’re burning up. You might need a doctor, Y/N.”

“No,” you croaked, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off.”

Olivia frowned, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached for your hand, her touch grounding and reassuring. “Alright,” she said softly. “But if it gets worse, we’re going. No arguments.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut.

As the hours ticked by, the symptoms ebbed and flowed. Every time you stirred - whether it was to sip water, wipe away sweat, or lean over the bucket - Olivia was there. She stayed by your side, her unwavering presence a balm to the storm raging inside you.

By the time the first rays of dawn crept through the window, the worst of it had passed. You were still weak, your body aching and your throat raw, but the cold sweats had subsided, and your nausea was manageable.

“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely, looking up at Olivia, who sat in the chair beside the bed, her hand resting on yours.

She gave you a small, tired smile. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.”

Safe. That word lingered in your mind as you drifted off again. 

When you woke again, sunlight was spilling through the windows, and Olivia was still in the chair beside you. She had her phone in one hand, her other resting casually on your arm. The faint lines of worry etched on her face softened when she noticed your eyes fluttering open.

“Hey,” she greeted gently, leaning forward. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” you croaked, your throat dry and voice hoarse. Then you managed a faint smile, despite everything. “This isn’t exactly how I imagined our next date going.”

Olivia’s lips curved into a small smile, though concern still lingered in her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t usually plan for my dates to include throwing up and police intervention.”

You let out a weak laugh, even though it hurt. “It’s a bold strategy,” you teased. “Really sets the tone for a relationship. How many people do you bring home after arresting someone for them?”

“Only the ones who know how to keep me on my toes,” she shot back smoothly, the glimmer of amusement in her eyes breaking through her worry.

You grinned, though it didn’t quite hide your embarrassment. “I mean, most people wait until, like, date ten before they start sweating through someone else’s sheets and crying in their bathroom. I just like to skip straight to the memorable parts.”

Olivia chuckled softly, shaking her head. “For the record, this isn’t the worst date I’ve been on. But it’s definitely one of the more dramatic.”

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. “Oh, God. Worst impression ever. I’m supposed to be charming and cool, not… this.”

She leaned closer, her hand gently brushing yours away from your face so she could look at you. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice grounding you again. “You don’t need to be charming or cool right now. What happened wasn’t your fault. And if this is your worst impression, you’re doing pretty well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in your chest at her words. “You’re really good at this whole ‘making someone feel safe’ thing, you know that?”

Her expression softened, her hand lingering on yours. “I try. And, for the record, I think you’re handling this a lot better than most people would.”

You sighed, settling back into the pillows. “Well, if I didn’t scare you off last night, I guess I’m doing okay.”

Olivia smirked, her eyes twinkling with affection. “It’s going to take a lot more than one rough night to scare me off, Y/N.”