#will this get me into kiss of life? it probably will tbh. i miss the woman group with hot bitches that can SING

[oyasleepy]

i miss deviantart so so so so so fucking bad rn

[lilamala]

natty and julie from kiss of life are so sexyyyy. so bad theyve got me watching youtube shorts of dance challenges

[star-girl69]

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

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

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

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

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

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

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can too!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You 

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

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

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

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spanking, five. 

Whips and Crops, five. 

Paddles, five. 

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

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

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

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

[reverie-starlight]

megumi loves…

a collection of things megumi loves about you.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. so sweet it’ll make your teeth rot tbh. he won the poll so here’s the fic as promised!! literally wrote this on the bus and train rides this morning after having this planned for weeks. I literally love him sm he is everything to me <3

megumi loves when you play with his hair. the feel of your nails running along his scalp, playing with the nape of his neck- it’s calming. you do it most often when you’re both in his bed, cuddling after a mission or a long day of training. he’ll flop down on top of you, plant his head on your chest and sigh. he waits for you to do something, drawing the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from your lips (a laugh) as he glares up at you when you don’t move your hands. you’ll mumble out a soft “aw I’m sorry, baby,” before giving him exactly what he wants. he’ll press tender kisses to any patch of skin he can reach in thanks. you’d never make him ask twice because you know he truly appreciates this time spent with you and you’d never want him to shy away from you. you’re each other’s safe space after all, who would you be to deny him?

sometimes you’ll do it in public, too, but far less often. these are the times that you just can’t hold back- he’s so cute, why would you? he grumbles about it a bit, especially if you’re around people you know (he’s shy, after all), but can he really complain when you look at him so softly as you play with his dark locks? he’ll endure the teasing and reassure you that he’s fine with it if you start to pull away.

megumi loves running his fingers along your facial features. over the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, tracing your lips… he just loves your facial structure. it sounds like an odd compliment to give someone, especially if it’s the first compliment you give someone (and in his case, it was the first compliment he managed to stutter out after you offhandedly called him pretty when you were in the transition stage from friends to lovers), but he’s thankful that you seem to find it sweet.

he loves your face when you’re awake, so full of life and excitement that he can’t help but match when you’re both alone in the comfort of each other. the pretty smiles you’ll give him make his heart pump just a bit faster, the lovesick in your eyes after he kisses you… he wouldn’t trade it for the world. he’d do anything to keep you happy.

he loves your face when you’re asleep, too. especially after you’ve had a rough day. you look so serene and peaceful. even if you do drool or think you’re less than flattering, he always thinks you’re the most stunning thing ever. he loves when you scrunch your nose in your sleep, and he always places a hand on your cheek to smooth it out. he adores the look on your face as you slowly wake up and blink at him before cuddling into him further and sighing as you fall back asleep.

megumi loves when you get a bit clingy. everyone is a bit surprised when they see how all over each other the two of you can be (at least, as much as he is willing to show in public- which isn’t much, but for everyone else it’s huge) he loves it when you can’t help but wrap your arms around him because you missed him (you probably saw him less than an hour ago).

he adores the way you refuse to let him get out of bed on weekends, insisting that you need your fix of “never-ending affection” from him before can start his day. and he loves giving it to you. he’ll start with peppering quick kisses all over your face, smiling against your skin when you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, not at all tempted to squirm away, but rather to pull him in for more.

he’ll be convinced to lay with you for a bit longer, of course, and do it without complaining. because at the end of the day, he loves to feel needed by you. he likes having you close to him more than he hates getting teased by his friends and gojo for being all soft.

believe it or not, he enjoys it when you initiate play fights with him. neither of you go all out- you do that enough on missions- so it’s just the two of you rolling around in bed, laughing and pinning the other down. he’ll pick you up and throw you back down, he’ll summon his demon dog to jump all over you so he can have the upper hand, just to keep you smiling. he knows physical affection is important to you, so why would he deny you of that? he never wants to make you feel like you’re not getting what you need from him.

megumi loves when you tease him. this surprises even him to this day, because he doesn’t like the feeling of getting worked up at all. but his working theory is that he enjoys the intimacy of it. you don’t tease him about every little thing, you know he doesn’t like that, but you do tease him about things hyper-specific to your relationship. for example: that one time he messed up the pronunciation of that word in an argument? you never let him live it down, but you’ll also never disclose the inside joke to anyone else. you might be a nuisance on purpose, but you’re also his number one defender when it comes to anyone else teasing him.

you also like to fluster him. poking him all over when you want attention, blowing air into his face when he leans in to kiss you… it’s all so fun for you. you’ll get close enough to his face to make him blush, you’ll tease that spot on the back of his neck that he’s never told anyone but you about, and he hates how easily you get to him, but he’ll tolerate it because he knows you’re just as easy to fluster as he is.

he loves to tease you back. as soon as you’re back in your room after a full day of not letting up on him, he’s got his arms wrapped around you, and he’s walking you backwards until your laying on the bed, staring up at him wearily… and then you’re screaming because his skilled hands are all over your sides, your ribs and your hips. and once you’re spent, he’ll lean in close to your ear and whisper his own teasing remarks (normally compliments he knows you’d have trouble accepting otherwise) to get you whining and mumbling out laughter-filled apologies he won’t be accepting any time soon.

yeah, megumi just loves you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed!!! it’s a different format from my other fics so lmk if you’d want this with any other characters!!

[wanatasha]

will you marry me?

natasha x fem!reader

you begin to believe Natasha wants to break up when she spends more time away from you—in reality she was working double to buy you a ring

tw: not proofread and written at 12AM, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, reader overthinks, love confessions, probably shitty tbh

Your bed as of late has been growing colder. It’s a shared bed, one large enough for two bodies. Well, it was a shared bed. The past month and a half you’ve been occupying the space on your own. Your girlfriend shows up, but it’s always when you’re already asleep. And when she wakes up? Too early.

She also has a habit of not responding to texts or calls at an orderly time. She’s been struggling with telling you about these sudden shifts as well.

Long story short you don’t see her as often anymore, if at all. She’s at her work more than she’s at home, it’s become her life. At first, you were ecstatic, but now? you just wanted to be awake when she comes home to at least greet her, ask her how her day is going, look into her eyes—

You didn’t think anything of her sudden and consistent disappearance act. Each time she told you she was leaving for work, you believed it. Now with where you stand at 6:46pm—cleaning the dishes with music playing in the background—this was the moment you realized.

Your thoughts started out as any other, chipper and useless almost before they spiraled and you began to think about her. You thought about your love for her, how you hope she’s been okay. You thought about why she’s been gone for so long. You thought about how day by day by day she’s slowly been less and less affection with you. She sleeps beside you still, but she’s here when you’re asleep and she leaves before you even stir. She barely responds to texts.

With your heart dropping, you wipe your hands off quickly so you can grab your phone. The messages shared between you are dull, but she’s been answering that she’s safe? Isn’t that enough? Why does it feel like you’re loving this relationship—one sided….

Then it hit you, she’s falling out of love with you.

You cried at the sink for a few minutes before you decided it be best to go to sleep earlier that night. A few dishes were left in the sink when Natasha came home, body sore and throat scratchy she stumbled in. She didn’t even notice as her only focus was getting to the bed, the one you shared, and passing out.

Again she woke up for work, and you woke up to a warm spot beside you again. You cried too. Tears fell like rain when you stepped in the bathroom to get ready for your own job. Throughout the day they would fall at random whenever you remembered her. By the end of the day you were mentally exhausted and you had a killer headache—and that was enough for you. Though despite every bone and muscle in your body begged you to keep the peace, you wanted to confront her. You needed to ask about what changed and how the two of you can fix it—no matter if that means breaking up.

So you got ready to stay up for possibly the worst night of your life. Eleven PM came and left as the numbers 3AM overtook the clock. You sat on the bed, each tick ringing in your mind. It was the sound you focused on until you heard the front door open.

3:41AM and she’s now coming home.

She’s used to her routine by now. Getting home and stumbling straight to bed, but she gets a shock when she comes to your bedroom door and finds you staring her down with tired eyes.

“Why’re you awake?”

You shrug, feeling an overcome of emotions then. Seeing her makes you feel choked up, sadness once again building so strongly within you. To think you’re about to loose her pushes your body into overdrive.

You’ll miss the warmth on the bed beside you, her kisses, the way she was always looking out for you, her smiles, her contact showing up on your phone, her laugh, her presence behind you when you woke up—You almost reconsider asking about what you are, but you full send it instead. It’s better this than to continue living with a ghost in your home.

“Why haven’t you been here,” you start, voice unfortunately very shaky, “It’s been like two months, Natasha and I’ve barely seen your face or heard from you.”

She looks shocked. Slight changes in her also tired expression that let you know of her response. She’s shocked.

“Two months?”

You nod, looking down and picking at your fingers, “can barely say I remember your face anymore.”

“I’ve been wor—“

“Are you trying to break up with me?”

“Okay, woah—what?”

“We’re closing in on month two. If you want to leave do it now, you’ve given me enough time.”

She stands up taller, confusion and offense written all over her face, “I don’t want to break up with you, I’m so confused—“

Your hands come down beside you, “you’re confused,” you laugh, “wow, that’s something. You don’t think that not being home for a month and a half is suspicious? That barely spending any time with me is not suspicious? That not texting or calling me or even caring to talk with me—is not the least bit suspicious?”

You wipe the tears with your right hand, trying to steel your eyes into hers, “Natasha I stay here for countless nights hoping you’d come home early and yet I’m faced with this same dent in the bed instead. I keep hoping things will change. I sit here and watch tv and end up falling asleep. When I wake up, the spot has moved. I try to read, and I get too tired, so I go to sleep and I find you came back that night again too. Why do you—“

Natasha had crossed the room in a few quick steps, hands reaching to bring your face towards hers. She cuts you off with a kiss, and since you’re such a fool for her, you lean into it immediately. Her lips come back, reconnecting and angling her face to kiss deeper. You run a hand through her hair, resting it on the back of her neck and holding her close.

“I love you,” she says as quiet as a whisper against your lips, “I’m so sorry how I’ve been as of late, I genuinely hadn’t realized I’ve been so stuck in a routine. I was so focused on my goal I neglected you.”

“What was your goal?”

She smiles, “to save up for a ring.”

Your eyes flicker around her face as your thumb rubs the skin of her cheek. Her words settle within you and you’re smiling so wide.

“You want to marry me?”

“Yeah,” she smiles wider and leans down to kiss you again, “will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

[like-a-diamondinthesky]

three times hyunjin wanted to kiss you plus the one time he finally did | h.h.j

pairing... bsf!hyunjin x gn!reader tags... best friends to lovers, "unrequited" love, fluff, 3+1 prompt

hyunjin really, really wants to kiss you. but he can't, because that's not what best friends do.

wc... 1.4k words a/n... was supposed to have class today but there was a really bad storm so i whipped this up during my newfound free time <3 this is longer than i planned it to be tbh

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° ONE

Hyunjin was bored to death. He had done nothing all day except use his phone, watch tv, use his phone, pretend to work on his laptop, and use his phone. Now, here he was, lounging on his couch, tapping away on his phone and looking for food to order.

He contemplated texting you, his best friend, but decided against it, thinking you were probably busy.

Right as he was about to pay for his food, Hyunjin's phone buzzed and a notification popped up. his eyes lit up, realizing it was a message from you.

y/n <3: hyun! y/n <3: are you busy?

Typing as if his life depended on it, Hyunjin quickly replied.

hyunjinnie: nah hyunjinnie: i was about to order dinner tho y/n <3: do you want mcdonald's? was thinking i could pick u up and we can get drive-thru

Ah, times like this, Hyunjin really just wanted to give you a big fat kiss. You were always spoiling him, after all.

hyunjinnie: YES PLEASE!!!! hyunjinnie: maybe we could watch a movie after too hyunjinnie: i mean, only if you want

He was nervous. He's invited you over many times before, but not since he realized that he was maybe, kind of, sort of in love with you.

y/n <3: definitely!!! sounds like a plan <3 i'll be there in 15

And just like that, Hyunjin's smiling like an idiot. Words can't explain how excited he was to see your face, to smell your perfume, and to hear your voice. And if his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, that was his business and his alone.

ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° TWO

Fifteen minutes had never felt longer. Hyunjin was anxiously waiting for you to arrive, eyes darting between his phone and the clock on the wall. Were you purposely driving slow to make him crazy?

As if on cue, you knocked on his front door, making him jump up off the couch in excitement. He slid his phone into his pocket, grabbed his wallet and keys, and walked over to the entrance of his apartment.

When he opened the door, you were greeted with a huge smile and a big, warm hug.

"Hi! i missed you," Hyunjin said, though it was muffled due to the fact that his face was buried in your hair. You giggled at his affection and replied, "We just saw each other last week!"

"I know, I still missed you, though." Smiling sheepishly, he let go of you and closed the door to his apartment. He took your hand and pulled you towards the elevator. "Come on. I'm starving."

×

After a long wait at McDonald's, you finally paid and got your food. Pulling out of the drive-thru, you began your drive back to Hyunjin's house.

"No way, I've been scammed!" Hyunjin gasps dramatically, raising his hand to his forehead and slumping in his seat. "They only gave me five nuggets when i ordered six. I'm legally obligated to one more!!!"

"What? No way." you quickly peeked inside the box Hyunjin was holding, seeing that there were, in fact, only five nuggets. "Alright, we're going back there."

Surprised, Hyunjin sat up and stared at you. "Wait, huh? No, Y/n- I was just kidding. It's just one nugget difference. It isn't a big deal, let's just go home."

"Don't be crazy, Hyun. you paid for six nuggets, and you're getting those six nuggets." The look on your face was one of pure determination. Your brows were furrowed, your eyes focused on the road, and your lips—god, your lips—looked so pretty and soft. 'Perhaps,' Hyunjin thought, 'I should repay Y/n for all the trouble with a kiss.'

ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° THREE

Hyunjin's heart was beating a mile a minute. The two of you had chosen to watch a horror movie after eating dinner, which was a bad idea considering you both hated them. But the reason for his pacing heartbeat wasn't the movie, no, it was you.

You were sitting next to him on the couch, huddled under the blanket. Your legs were touching his, your hands were clutching his arm, and your neck was resting on his shoulder. He wasn't even paying attention to the movie anymore, not when you were this close to him. Not even the jumpscares affected him. He was far too focused on how your grip around his arm would tighten, how you would try to scooch even closer to him, how you would hide your face in his neck.

After the movie ended, the two of you stayed in your position on the couch, too comfortable to move. Hyunjin had his arm around your shoulders, keeping you safe in his grasp. You were telling him about your past few days, eyes lighting up as you recalled your happy memories. The corners of your lips perked up when you talked, pulling your cheeks higher and bringing your eyes to a crinkle.

You looked so pretty in his arms, Hyunjin swears he could just lean in and kiss you right then and there. But he doesn't, because that's not what best friends do.

ɞ° ‧₊˚ ◡̈° PLUS ONE

The stars were twinkling in the midnight sky. It was late and you were too scared to drive yourself home, claiming that the horror movie "changed your brain chemistry." So, like any good best friend would do, Hyunjin invited you to spend the night. In his bed.

"Are you sure, Hyun? I'm perfectly happy sleeping on the couch." You were standing by his bedroom door, watching him pull out your favorite hoodies of his. He walked to you with a soft smile, handing you the hoodie so you could change into something more comfortable than your old (and probably a size too small) t-shirt. "Oh come on, it's fine. I'm the one who asked you to stay over, anyway. It's only right that you take the bed and I take the couch."

Reluctantly accepting the hoodie from his hands, you sigh. "Okay, okay. I'll sleep on your bed. But! Only if you stay here with me."

A deep blush crept onto Hyunjin's cheeks at your request, but still, he gave in and nodded. "Sure, anything for you, Y/n."

×

It was a long, nearly sleepless night. Beside Hyunjin, you slept peacefully, lying on your side and facing him. He spent many hours staring up at his ceiling, silently cursing and thanking god at the same time for putting him in this situation.

Don't get him wrong, Hyunjin was so glad to have you with him in his bed, but he was so anxious that he'd make you uncomfortable. Were you okay sleeping while facing each other? Was he hogging too much of the blanket? Was he too close to you?

Eventually, these thoughts subsided and Hyunjin finally fell asleep. After a couple hours of rest, the sun started to seep through the curtains, filling the room with soft rays of light. Opening his eyes once again, Hyunjin was delighted to be greeted by your face in front of his.

You were so beautiful. Hyunjin admired the way your plump lips still curved into a small smile despite being asleep. Your hair was covering your eyes, so he slowly reached his hand to your forehead, gently brushing the stray pieces behind your ear. His hand hovered there as he thought to himself, 'I could just kiss them, right now. No one has to know.' Shaking the thought away, he brought his hand back down to his side, choosing to continue admiring your beauty instead.

"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to kiss me?" you whispered, eyes slowly opening. "I mean, if you won't do it, I will,"

Hyunjin's mouth dropped open. Did he hear you correctly?

You giggled at his reaction, bringing your hand to his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch. "Last chance, Hyun."

This is it, he was gonna do it. He was going to kiss you. Closing his eyes, Hyunjin leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was everything. He could've sworn he felt fireworks explode in his chest. He placed his hand on the small of your back, bringing your bodies together. You moved the hand on his cheek to the hair at his nape, playing with the soft strands.

Pulling away, Hyunjin took a deep breath and opened his eyes. You both smiled at each other, happy in each other's arms. "Finally. You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

"Took you long enough," you laughed. "I was so sure you'd kiss me after the movie. I was waiting all night."

Hyunjin chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. God, he could get used to this. "Had I known you wanted me to kiss you, I wouldn't have waited for a single second."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

[kyeomray]

rise and go down on him

pairing: kim mingyu x afab reader

content: established relationship, some fluff, slice of life, pwp, smut (18+ MDNI!!!!)

summary: mingyu is the busiest man you know, yet he always finds time to take care of you. so on the one morning he has time to sleep in, you decide to repay the favor. (smut warnings below)

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this is the first fic i’m releasing on tumblr…kinda nervous lol. I realize this concept might be overdone but I thought it was a good place to start and hope I put my own spin on it!! let me know if anything looks wrong with the format and thank you for reading xx

smut warnings: some kissing, dry humping, handjob, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, babe, slut one time), cum eating, some pussy touching, tbh this is filthy sorry not sorry.

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*

you stir awake as large, warm arms engulf you from behind. smiling sleepily, you bring your hands up to softly rub along the length of them. mingyu grumbles into your hair and you let out a snort at how cute he is. you missed mornings like this.

being an idol, mingyu’s mornings didn’t typically start this freely. he was either up and out the door far before you even even woke up, or so exhausted he slept through most of his off days. you understood - with his grueling and inconsistent schedules - why intimate mornings were such a rare occurrence between the two of you.

despite his lack of time (and often energy), mingyu never neglected to make you happy and totally satisfied in your relationship. if he got food while he was out after practice, he always brought some home for you. he cleaned up after himself no matter how tired he was, knowing how much you didn’t like to do it. if he was too sleepy to dote on you, he would just suffocate you with snuggles until you both drifted off instead. and lastly, he never, ever, left you wanting or needy.

he savored every second of time you had together. his favorite was dragging you to shower with him whenever he got the chance. he would press you against the wet tiles and throw your leg over his shoulder, burying his face into your wet heat until your whole body trembled. he’d bend you over your vanity while you did your morning routine, being careful not to ruin your hair or makeup while he plowed into your cunt from behind. he would even finger you till you cried while you watched movies on the couch if he didn’t have energy for anything else. he always assured you it was okay. he wanted to pleasure you every chance he got. and you were so in love with him for it.

this particular morning, you woke up in a spectacular mood. it’s not often mingyu gets a few days off in a row and it’s definitely not often that you both get to sleep in together. the realization makes your heart flutter, and you bring mingyu’s big hand up to press delicate kisses on his knuckles.

you feel him stir behind you, the evenness of his breathing coming to a stop. he presses his face further into the mess of your hair, inhaling deeply. you giggle slightly at the action, squirming at the warmth.

“good morning, handsome.” you whisper, resuming your stroking of his forcep. he groans quietly behind you.

“mornin’ baby.” mingyu rasps. he still sounds exhausted, and your heart clenches a little. you know he probably won’t want to get up for a while, and not one bit of you blames him or disagrees. you snuggle back into him further, relishing in the way his arms tighten around you.

“missed this so much ‘gyu.” you sigh softly, letting your head fall back to the pillow. “missed waking up with you.”

“me too, angel. c’mere.” mingyu moves his arm away from you and pulls on your hip gently, and you can tell he wants you to turn around.

you do exactly that, shifting your body until you’re facing your boyfriend in his arms. you’re so close that you can feel his soft breath fanning across your face. you beam at him before burrowing your head in the crook of his neck. he smells so warm and good, and you don’t think you ever want to leave this spot.

you love mingyu so incredibly much, and now is one of those times when your whole body is buzzing with that feeling. he always does so much for you, and you want to start doing half as much. making him feel half as loved as he makes you feel (which is still a lot). you can feel the mischievous grin form on your face; you know exactly what to do and you have the time today.

you start off innocent; lifting your head up to place small pecks all over mingyu’s cheeks and nose. his eyes open slightly as a small smirk forms on his lips, and you take that as an opportunity to press your own against them. he immediately melts into you, sighing into your mouth and rubbing his hands along the span of your back.

you hook your arms underneath mingyu’s armpits, moving your hands up to tug softly at the hair on his nape while you lightly suck his lips into your mouth. he groans at the action, and his tongue is immediately prodding at your lips.

you part your mouth, his tongue quickly finding your own and swirling against it. you can’t help the small whine that escaped you when mingyu’s hands find your ass, groping and squeezing the soft flesh shamelessly (and as if he isn’t still half asleep). he chuckles sleepily at your reaction, and you pull back from him briefly.

“you’re kind of a pervert, you know that kim mingyu?” there’s a smile on your face, and mingyu decides to push things a little further, slipping his hands into your underwear and spreading your ass cheeks apart while biting his lip. you gasp, pressing your hips further into him. “forget kind of, you’re a gigantic fuckin’ perv.”

“you do this to me, baby. it’s your fault i’m so horny all the time.” you laugh a little at the pout on his face, and move up to resume kissing him. his mouth is moving hungrily against yours despite the tired state of his body, and it has butterflies erupting deep in your stomach. you yank at his hair again, rougher this time, and attach your lips to the cut of his jaw.

he sighs out when you throw a leg over his hip, essentially laying halfway on top of him. your lips continue their attack on his neck, sucking marks into his soft skin as you roll your hips against him. mingyu is groaning softly, grabbing behind your knee and hauling you even closer to him. your thigh is pressed against something hot and hard when he does so, and an evil grin spreads on your face.

pulling back slightly, you watch mingyu’s face as you slowly trail your hand down his abdomen. the sight before you is kind of hilarious, really. his eyes are still heavy with sleep and his hair is a mess on top of his head, but his cock is raging against you underneath his shorts. you giggle at the sight as your hand reaches its destination.

his breath hitches when you rub your hand over him, stroking the shape of his erection teasingly. you can tell he’s already fully hard, and you squeeze your hand around him firmly just to feel the way his cock pulses in your grip. wetness seeps past the seam of your pussy as you do, and settles on the seat of your panties. you’ve got a long and fun morning ahead of you, you already know it.

“so hard for me already, and I just started touching you, gyu.” slipping your hand under his waistband, you smooth your fingertips over the oozing tip of his cock, relishing in the broken gasp he lets out.

“mm—mhm, y-yeah baby. you make me so hard.” he grunts, and you can tell he’s already gone. already panting as you rub his cock, working him up till he breaks.

“you work so much, baby. let me take care of you today.” you purr against his neck, wetly smooching the flesh there before pushing him to lay fully on his back. his cock stands straight up in his boxers, tenting the fabric almost comically. you work down his body, kissing and licking down his stomach before you reach his crotch.

you decide to tease him further, mouthing his dick over the fabric of his underwear until the material is soaked through. mingyu groans frustratedly, but you can tell he’s still too tired to reprimand you. you continue your ministrations, sucking and licking the covered tip of him till his thighs are trembling and he’s whining above you.

“fuck,” he gasps out when you yank his underwear down just enough so that his cock springs up against his stomach. he’s already leaking so much, and you wrap your fingers around his shaft to feel the weight of him. “p-please,” mingyu manages, tears already welling up in the corners of his eyes. “please don’t tease me baby. n-need you so bad.”

“I’m gonna take care of you gyu, don’t worry. gonna suck on your big cock till you explode.” you emphasize your words by spitting lewdly on his dick, working your hand around him while the wet noises of it fill the room. his body noticeably relaxes into the bed, and that’s when you go to town.

your lips wrap around him, massaging them over his tip before dipping your tongue into his leaking slit. he cries out and his whole body jolts, making you smirk against him. you go back to work, taking him further into your mouth with each bob of your head. his cock is coated in your saliva at this point, and you know this is only the beginning of the mess you two are going to make.

you look up at him as you practically bounce your mouth on his length, taking in his fucked-out expression. he’s still panting, and small whines and grunts are escaping with his breath. squeezing your fingers around his base, you hollow your cheeks around him, slowly sucking up his shaft until you reach the tip and swirl your tongue over him.

“fucking hell…you’re s-so fucking good at that. shit.” mingyu moans loudly, and you can tell you’re gonna be so wet that your underwear stick to you like a second skin after this. you’re desperate to make him cum, feel his cock jump with each spurt, so you hasten your movements. jerking him off as you slurp around him, making spit drip down the length of him.

you unwrap your hand from his shaft, bringing it down to play with his balls instead. he practically sobs out at that, his thighs quivering with each pass your lips make over the ridge of his head. he starts babbling, and that’s how you can tell he’s getting close.

“ss-so good baby. ‘m not gonna last. so so g-good.” mingyu slurs, drool beginning to seep onto his pillow as his eyes roll back. you take him deeper, your nose nearly touching his navel with each bob of your head. he’s so big that you’re starting to gag on him, but you push through anyway. you can’t help but wonder what the room would sound like to someone else, with the way you’re choking and slobbering on his dick.

mingyu’s riding the edge at this point, just needs a little something to get him there. it’s a good thing you know his body like the back of your hand, because you practically read his mind. gripping his girth once again, you squeeze the base of him. your lips tighten around him, dragging your tongue along with them as you move up his shaft. mingyu’s balls are tightening, his cock throbbing as you suction your mouth around him. you mentally prepare to take his load as you lap at his frenulum, already feeling him twitch under your tongue. sure enough, he starts crying out, desperate and pathetic ‘ahhh’s spilling from him and increasing in pitch.

“mmh, gonna cum. shit, baby. g-gonna cum. I—I’m cumming—mmmph!” mingyu’s jaw practically unhinges in a long, strained moan, his back threatening to arch off of the bed as his cock jerks in your mouth, pulsing with spurts of thick cum that land on your tongue and the back of your throat. you swear he cums for hours, his knuckles turning white as he grips the bed sheets.

you struggle to swallow the large mouthful of his load, but you somehow manage with only a few drops leaking out of the corners of your mouth. you squeeze the last few drops out of him with your hand before laving your tongue over him one last time to clean him up.

his body jerks and he whimpers in sensitivity at the overstimulation. you place one last kiss on his tip before sitting up, knowing he’s had enough. you watch him with your hands on your knees, observing the way he’s attempting to catch his breath, his arm draped across his forehead. he manages a small chuckle as he notices you staring, cocking your head to one side.

“you’re fucking unreal. I hope you know that.” he breathes, making your cheeks blossom with heat despite the lewd acts you just performed on him. you know mingyu is spent, but honestly giving him head makes you so fucking horny, you’re worried you might have to rub one out in the shower if he has no energy left.

luckily for you, mingyu can tell exactly you need him (by the way you squirm and squeeze your thighs together), and he won’t ever leave you wanting. especially after some of the best head of his life. he motions you over to him with a lazy wave of his hand. “c’mere baby. wanna feel how wet you are.”

you crawl over to him slowly, situating your clothed, aching pussy straight over his outstretched hand. he hums in delight at the way your arousal immediately coats his fingertips, and teasingly presses them into you. you whimper shakily, practically keeling over as he immediately finds your throbbing clit.

“fuck,” mingyu groans. “fucking drenched. does sucking my dick make you that horny, dirty girl?” he teases, his sleepiness fading away with each passing second as your hips grind into his hand.

“y-yes gyu,” you whine. “need your cock so bad. please. please.” he chuckles at your desperation, pulling his hand away from your cunt and grabbing your hand instead and pulling you to straddle him.

“such a little slut. c’mere baby, ride my cock.”

***

[ereawrites]

Hey gurl✨ I’m in my wife era rn so maybe some Shisui and/or Tobirama husband/jealous husband hcs?🫣 I loooovee your writing and tbh your thoughts are my thoughts so no pressure😩 If you not feeling it feel free to ignore me babe🧚🏻‍♀️

YOU HAVE FED ME SO GOOD MISS GIRL! under the cut for length

shisui

this isn't too relevant but I have to include it. it's too cute. I definitely see shisui getting married pretty young, like early 20s. if he finds his person he's going for it. probably gets a lot of shit for it from his family, but he doesn't care

loooong honeymoon period. in part because they're still a young couple but also... shisui is just a really devoted husband. he loves the married life. insists on kissing her goodbye every morning, eating together every night, stuff like that

LOVES DECORATING THEIR HOUSE are u kidding me. let's say they get a kinda shitty place right after they get married, and put a tonne of work into doing it up. he gets so into painting, building the furniture, even starts up a little herb garden in their kitchen

finds so many ways to drop his wife into conversation lol. he's down bad even after the honeymoon period ends, so he wants to show her off. his FAV is when she swings by his workplace to bring him his 'forgotten' lunch. he turns around to the rest of the guys like. yeah. that's my WIFE. isn't she hot.

very much a believer in keeping the romance alive. he wants to keep making the effort with her until the day he dies. veryyyy good at remembering anniversaries, scheduling regular date nights, etc. always makes sure she has fresh flowers in the house

obviously it isn't all perfect though. especially while they're young (and presumably both still active, high-ranking shinobi) their schedules keep them apart a lot. and this hits shisui really hard tbh. he hates coming back to an empty home after a long mission, knowing he might not even see his wife before he has to leave again

work is probably where most of their arguments stem from, actually. I don't see it being a regular thing, but it's easy for resentment to build in those kinds of situations. shisui is very torn between his love for his village, and his love for his wife, and the fact he can't prioritise both. thankfully shisui is a good communicator so they make things work.

in terms of jealousy... I don't see it being a common thing. maybe before they get married he tends towards it a bit more, but once she's his wife, why would he worry? she's his entire world and he knows she loves him just as much

the only way I rly see him getting jealous at all is if they're going through a bit of a rough patch for the reasons mentioned above. maybe they haven't seen each other in weeks, and they both get back from a mission on the same day. and there's some kind of event/function that evening that they have to attend

so they barely have a chance to acknowledge each other, before they're pulled apart again by the crowd. so if shisui sees some random guy getting a little too close and flirty with her, he gets more annoyed than he'd like to admit

even then though.. he's not necessarily jealous as much as he is upset. like goddamn just let this poor man have his beloved wife to himself for a night. in this situation he's more likely to behave more rashly than usual, and he might just make some excuses and take her home lol. he gets a little bit pouty until she gives him some attention

overall, though, he's very chill. he trusts her implicitly, and expects the same from her. they need to have a very honest, respectful relationship if he's going to wife her up

god okay and in old age they're so cute together. I bet they have a bunch of kids (probably accidentally tbh lol) so then they end up with a whole squadron of grandchildren. he's that fun grandpa who sneaks them sweets when the parents aren't looking. all the grandbabies want to sleep over at their house. and they LOVE it.

to sum up: very good husband. very relaxed, communicates well, makes her feel loved every day. why did he have to die I want to throw myself off a bridge.

tobirama

first of all. good job to this woman. wrangling tobirama into marriage is not an easy job. he's so fucking ANNOYING. it probably takes him years to confess he even has feelings for her, let alone ask for her hand in marriage

but once he gets there. it's pretty cute. he doesn't really act very differently for the most part - he'd already decided his heart belonged to her well before they married, and wholly committed. so his behaviour doesn't change much, and there isn't much of a honeymoon period. sorry. he's like marriage is just a contractual agreement why would it change anything between us

he does make a few little indulgences though. he gets this smug little look every time he introduces her as his wife. he's actually just a lot more prone to 'showing her off' in general, and more likely to show some physical affection in public. for tobirama that's maybe a peck on the cheek lol. but it's progress

he's definitely a lot.... gentler?idk. with her once they're married as well. he makes an effort to be more patient and less snippy, and shows his appreciation for her in a lot of quiet little ways. for example, he'll be sure to leave work on time no matter how busy it is if he knows she's putting a lot of effort into dinner that night. or if she spends a second too long looking at a new dress in the store, he's buying it for her

on that note. tobirama is such a provider once they're married. he does have that traditional idea of providing for his wife. he'll probably ask her if she wants to become a stay at home wife tbh. if she says yes, he still expects her to get out in the community of course. he'd love if she did volunteering work, maybe at the hospital or with kids or something. but he's also equally happy for her to keep working. power couple vibes very strong

they have a nice, quiet little house away from the village where no one bothers then and they loooove it. especially tobirama, his wife and their home are his sanctuary. everyone else gtfo

other than that, not much is really different from before their marriage. they probably actually lead quite independent lives, to the point where people don't even know they're married until tobirama drops it into conversation a few months later. they're very private and lowkey.

unfortunately for her, tobirama's paranoia also persists. he's a bit delulu sometimes lol and she knows this going in. but it does inevitably cause some issues, especially if she's headstrong (which is definitely the type of woman he ends up with)

he trusts his wife more than anything. he would never doubt her for a second. but other men? the enemy. not to be trusted. they're all dogs. it drives him absolutely batshit crazy to watch them ogling her, or god forbid trying to flirt with her. which is actually kinda common bc they're such a lowkey couple, so people assume she's single

tobirama isn't one to make a scene per se, but this definitely leads to a few awkward situations in public, and she probably ends up embarrassed a few times. and there's 10000% arguments behind closed doors. I don't see either of them being good with this lol. he acts like she's his political enemy he's ridiculous

but because he loves her so much, and he actually really wants to put work into the longevity of their marriage, he'll come around. he's a lot softer and more willing to compromise when it comes to her. but she can't point that out because he's mortified

over time, he chills out a lot more. they're one of those couples that just get stronger and better with time. they grow a lot together, and although they probably continue to disagree a lot throughout their marriage, it's always in a way that leaves their relationship stronger. and he only gets softer for her. people (hashirama) even start to point out how devoted he is and he can't even deny it. cute

overall a kind of difficult husband, because he is an exceptionally difficult man, but my god he loves her so much. he would do anything to make her happy.

[zhaosbin]

HIII!! Can I ask for how zb1 members would react to missing your bday?? thanx

yess ofc <3

hanbin- this man would be a WRECK... he definitely has your bday marked down on every calendar he owns so the only way he'd miss it is probably due to some schedule or being in a different time zone. whatever the reason, hanbin buys you 10x the gifts he already got you bc he just feels so bad :(

hao- hao would be rlly upset :( he loves u sm and doesn't get to see you that much bc of work so missing ur bday would just be the worst possible thing for him... but don't worry bc the next day he will spoil you with kisses and gifts and make your day even more special than the day before!

matthew- i'm sorry but i can imagine matthew missing ur bday bc he worked out sm at the gym and fell asleep right after 😭 ur not even mad at him the next day, in fact, you're very happy to see his perfectly toned body as your gift ;)

ricky- if ricky misses ur bday...just know w*ke one is behind it. he'd be pissed as hell at everyone, with the exception of you of course. he'd send a lavish car to your house early the next day and meet you at the airport to take you to paris and take you on a shopping spree with his credit card, obviously.

gyuvin- mans would be so upset😭 you're not mad at him but you'd definitely torment him with jokes about it for the rest of his life... gyuvin would def make it up to u tho in the sweetest ways, taking u out for a special meal and going to an amusement park or something :(

gunwook- i can see him being angry at himself/whoever was responsible for him missing your bday... we all know gunwook is very hot when he has his intimidating face on so seeing him like that would instantly make you forgive him tbh😭

taerae- another sad boy :( he'd have such a cute dinner planned out (he cooked!) & his guitar ready to serenade you with a song he wrote about you <\3 dw you will get it the next day and it'll be even better (he burnt the food the first time)

jiwoong- MAD ANGRY MAD MAD sorry there's something abt angry jiwoong that excites me... he's another one that would prob miss ur bday due to scheduling conflicts so he'd be pissed at whoever was behind it. when u guys finally do celebrate ur bday he'd take you out for a picnic and a sweet walk around your city (he's using his kdrama actor methods on you)

yujin- i feel like he'd be a little sad abt it but once he realizes your not actually mad at him he'd ask you to play roblox or go to the convenience store with him 😭

[thetxtdevil]

Helloooo!! Can you do soobin with a breeding kink x subbunyhybrid!reader ? Bunnies just love to get bred the fck out tbh

You’re so true for that

---

Soobin arrives at the house fully expecting a bunny jumping into his arms. He was gone for a while and all day all he could think of was his bunny girlfriend and how much she probably misses him. Soobin walks into the quiet house, looking around seeing no signs of life. The kitchen was spotless, the TV screen was off, the only evidence of you was the couch. A fuzzy blanket draped across the dented couch cushions, Soobin walks over seeing your phone left behind. He picked it up eyes widening seeing one of his nudes he sent you a while ago. Dimpled smile forming on his face sighing at his theory of what you’re probably up to.

Walking quietly to your shared room, lo and behold a horny bunny. Raised eyebrows above his big chestnut eyes staring at you fully naked bouncing on a bright purple dildo. You were moaning so loudly that you didn't notice Soobin's presence. Tits bouncing along your floppy ears it was truly the most beautiful thing Soobin has ever seen. He sits on the bed happy to watch you keep fucking yourself until the droop of the bed made you lose balance. Your eye shoot open, fluffy bunny ears perking up, finally realizing the viewer in the bedroom.

"Uh- I'm sorry, I missed you" you squeak stopping your movements, "I-i was admiring photos I have of you and,,, well, I landed on one of you holding your dick and I-" your eyes drifted off.

Soobin chuckles, he knew what he was getting into when getting a bunny hybrid, they were known to be sex crazed and you were no exception. Your long ears low as you look back on him giving your biggest saddest eyes then glance at the tent in his trousers, you grin moving your hands towards the waistband of his pants. Soobin leans back letting you do you want, unbuckling and dragging down his pants. His cock was instantly in your hand and other hand massaging his balls.

Soobin sighs at the felling, "Tell me what you were thinking about seeing my picture..."

"I was thinking about how handsome you are, how good this dick feels, and how good it feels when my insides are warm with your cum" you say as you kiss his plumped lips.

"Why don't you forget about that dildo and bounce on me, let me breed you" Soobin quirks an eyebrow.

You whimper, dildo thrown out and quickly straddling the man. You loved how much he knew you and your bunny needs.

A nuisances,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[yandere-yearnings]

Okay but see I'm so petty I would ignore vio forever now until he apologized that man needs to get on his mf knees if he even wanted me to look his damn direction fr

the promised continuation of the vio angst🥰 i didn't screenshot all the asks requesting for it bc then this would just be a very long post of nonnies slowly cursing vio out more and more violently with each pic ahaha (which i love tbh😩💕) but know that i've read each and every single one🥺🩷 i wrote this one in his third-person limited so there's a bit more insight into his thoughts❗❗

(that being said, there isn't much grovelling and his asking for your forgiveness here which i'm really sorry abt. i did try to go that route originally to align w/ some of the requests i've gotten, but vio actually just isn't the type. at least at the point in the relationship being depicted!! gotta keep in mind he is super arrogant and has probably never apologised once in his life😔💔 tho, he is suffering in his own way, rest assured. the silent treatment kinda broke him haha)

warning that there is a bit of violence here and gaslighting (??), ig just typically what you'd expect to see in a yandere work,, this really ran away from me bc it's like 800 words😭

Three days had passed. Vio sat inside his trailer, feet up on the dressing table, more annoyed than he’d ever been in his entire life. Blue hair in his reflection, mussed from his constant ruffling, looking unkempt and barely like himself — and it was all your fault. His agency was paying you a salary in five figures and your only job was to take care of him, which inherently, you were doing, but you were also ignoring him and Vio couldn’t stand it.

His eyes flicked over almost instantly when you walked in, tracking every movement from your shutting the door to hanging your coat over the back of the closest chair. All Vio could see were the snowflakes in your lashes because that was all you’d let him, your gaze downcast, avoiding his. Pride made him bite his lips, because actually, he fucking missed the way you’d look at him. He missed your voice and he missed your pretty words, and it was all lumping in his throat so he couldn’t admit it although he wanted to.

Something weak sounded from him; a desperate grab for your attention that didn’t work. He kicked his script to the floor knowing you’d pick it up, then watched with a clenched jaw as you did exactly that, not even a fleeting glare in his direction. Somehow, Vio felt like he was running out of time, papers placed back neatly and your back already turning, it was the curl of worry in his gut that had his hand snapping to your wrist and tugging you back to him.

“You,” he gritted, frustrated at the pull back, at your resistance — no, your refusal of him. “Don’t fucking ignore me!”

Clearly, you weren’t listening, for all that Vio wrested you into his lap, your eyes wouldn’t even meet his through the mirror. Your bones solid against his palm, and he squeezed, hard enough to take you in, to let out the anger. Though, watching your face twist in pain, tendons in your neck constricting just to cut off the whimper, Vio didn’t even know who to be mad at anymore. 

All he wanted was for you to give in. 

He’d missed you so much, he would dream of you saying his name again. As you always would, and give him that love he was addicted to — yours, that tasted like kisses to open flesh. Raw and sincere to the point that Vio would rather stay splayed and bloodied instead of getting help. He didn’t feel like he could come back from this, or who he’d become because of you. If he was falling from grace, he’d hale you with him.

“Y/N…” This time, it came as a whisper, erratic mind lulled quick to the sensation of your pulse pressing firm against his fingers. Counting throbs, taking breaths for you, telling himself to be kinder, kinder. “Talk to me,” his forehead rested on your shoulder blade, “let’s not do this anymore, hm?”

Gentility got a rise out of you, it seemed, in the form of a gasp and the violent twists to free yourself that followed. “Don’t you dare,” your tone was accusatory, yet when Vio leaned away he saw the tell in your tears, “you’re not allowed to act fucking civil after what you did.”

His brow twitched. Irritation. He didn’t have a clue what you were talking about. Either way, acting was already his whole career — it might as well have been his entire damn life, and he wasn’t going to be reminded. If you weren’t a director and he wasn’t the star of your show, he didn’t need you telling him what he could and couldn’t do. His grip on you tightened.

“I didn’t do anything,” he hissed.

Outside it had begun to rain, heavy droplets melting the sleet from the windows. Steady patters the furthest thing from therapeutic in his current headspace, Vio almost missed your broken, “liar.”

Knocking his knee to white wood had the make-up brush holder tipping, contents rolling around, more noise buzzing in his head as he adjusted you. Finally, you were forced to focus on him, and Vio's eyes were unblinking, boring into yours. “You’re making baseless accusations.” 

“You told me no one would love someone like me.”

“I asked you who could,” Vio bit back instantly, then, his voice softened, “...and the answer is me.”

Purple dotted into red when he let you go, wiping at your wet face. Speckled like poison in a garden of roses — what he was to you, and what you were to him. Vio thought it was fitting, beauty in that you were both to die of each other. His incurable illness. His darling disease. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to that gaffer.

“Only I can. Only I am allowed. Remember that, and love me in turn.”

[fickleminder]

Tbh I was rereading your ficus “the years start coming and they don’t stop”, for probably the thousandth time, and I was thinking

Like

What if the brothers want to be in MC’s life again and MC, who is now more accustomed to being alone

Minus their interactions with Solomon, Satan, & the angels(from time to time)

Is just like “do what you want, it’s fine/whatever” and they just go about their life and the brothers start seeing how MC has changed.

And so does Lilith, like MC is kind to Lilith but they keep almost everybody at arms length. Like they’re stronger but they also don’t miss that MC doesn’t smile as much around them anymore

They see MC’s growth, like someone or thing tries to bother Lilith and the brothers get there in time to see MC licking ass. When someone asks if MC’s alright they’re like yeah and maybe later find out that MC was hurt but didn’t and still do not want their help and Solomon and/or Satan come in and MC’s fine with them helping them.

Damn this turned into a thing.

But

Just a thought yeah?

💖💖💖

Aahhhh I love this so much! There can never be too much angst in a replaced!MC AU, and your idea reminds me of one of my favorite lines in TYSCATDSC part 2: Maybe you eventually learned to live without them, while they took for granted that you’d always be there.

But you’re absolutely right though; while the MC in this fic doesn’t really hold a grudge against the brothers, it’s always satisfying to think about karma biting them in the ass when they realize that MC doesn’t need them anymore. Sure, MC came back to see them again and check on their well-being, but they’re far from being as involved in their lives as they once were.

And that mini scenario is just *chef’s kiss*! I can just picture it: the whole family out for dinner at a restaurant or something, Lilith excusing herself to use the washroom, MC doing the same not long after…

Lilith rushing back with rips and tears in her dress and her hair all mussed up, crying for her brothers to help MC, not me! I’m okay but you need to help them—

The brothers seeing red and ready to completely annihilate the scum who dared to touch their baby sister and precious human, only to find MC standing over a lesser demon seemingly none the worse for wear, fists clenched and face blank.

“The binding spell should hold for at least another minute,” MC tells the dumbfounded brothers before stepping aside and dusting their hands. “Have fun, boys!”

It isn’t until much later, when Mammon and the others take turns to peek into MC’s room after getting chased away, that they see Satan gently bandaging MC’s hand and casting healing spells. Solomon is on speakerphone, chiding them for forgetting to keep their thumbs out when throwing punches.

MC sighs at all the fussing but allows themself to be taken care of. Satan presses a kiss to their knuckles when he’s done, and as they turn towards their phone to banter with Solomon, they miss the way the demon’s gaze darts towards their door with pity.

[gabessquishytum]

The Endless family are nothing, if not the most horrible of people. They don't care who/what they hurt to lord it over people.

Morpheus tries to have as little to do with his adoptive family (he along with a number of his other siblings were foundlings) as possible, but the family still own his apartment building and probably have found a sneaky underhanded way to have a stake in his fledgling art career. This is part of the reason he appeared when summoned to the most recent family dinner/shitty people party.

For some yet undisclosed reason, Morpheus parents were particularly smug about whatever was going to happen at the party - he just hopes it's not overt and open criming, he doesn't really want to be pressed into hiding bodies and depending on how long it takes to get to whatever their "surprise" is, Morpheus will have to stay at the party for longer than he would ever want.

The surprise is wheeled out, in a giant tank -- a captured male merperson. To Morpheus's eyes, he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen - long brown hair flowing in the water, strong chest and arms flowing seamlessly down to a golden tail, shot through with warm browns, yellows and greens. Just the colors alone spoke to Morpheus's artist soul. He knew he could happily spend the rest of his life doing nothing but attempting to recreate this beauty.

And then he locked eyes with the angry brown eyes of what was obviously the rest of his existence,,,,,,,and Morpheus's soul mark burned.

Ahhhh this is so chilling!! I like the idea of Hob being beautiful but terrifying.

Of course Dream has to do something. So he asks to stay the night at his "parents" awful mansion. After midnight he sneaks down the damp basement where the huge tank has been stored. The merman is skulking around the bottom of the tank, and those brown-gold eyes glare out through the darkness. Dream can't stop himself from stepping forward and pressing the palm of his hand against the glass.

"Well." The merman says, sending bubbles shooting out to the surface of the tank. "How are you going to get me out of here?"

It turns into a proper mini heist. Dream recruits a team to get his soulmate out: his estranged adoptive brother Ollie, his youngest sister (who still lives at home, and can let them all into the mansion), a few sketchy friends he made at university (Matthew and Cori) and, bizarrely, the director of the gallery that shows his art. Gilbert may be older in years, but he is very good with a weapon.

They take an old bathtub that Matthew dug out of a skip to the mansion in Cori's truck. And then they lug the damn thing down to the basement. Hob looks distinctly unimpressed. But when Dream begs him to get in the bath, his fierce attitude softens. Muttering about dumb humans, he flops out from the top of the tank, into the bath - bringing plenty of water along with him.

Then they have to get him back up the stairs. Dream is not super helpful tbh, he's too fixated on Hob’s beautiful tail. And his eyes. And just everything, really. Thank goodness Ollie hits the gym regularly - they make it out of the mansion before dawn. Delirium gives Hob a big kiss on the cheek, and he gets all soft and mushy, giving her a soggy hug in return before they wave goodbye and get the hell out of there. They head for Gilbert's gallery (since its on the ground floor), where Hob's eyes get all big and shiny as he looks at Dream’s art.

What the hell do they do now? No doubt Dream’s parents will notice the missing merman. And Hob can't live in a bathtub forever. Maybe it's time for Dream to get the nice cottage by the sea that he's always fancied. The question is - will Hob want to hang around, when he's free to swim away?

The answer is a grumpy "yes". As long as Dream agrees to paint him. Which obviously isn't going to be an issue at all 😄

[wandering-tides]

TNE Fandom where are you?

Sujin shippers where are you?

I have Fics to Rec

I don't really go out of my way to rec fics (and I dunno why I have never done this before on tumblr), but BY GOD, have these two fics taken a special place in my heart.

I ADORE everything about them.

They are both Suho x Hajin ships

But the ship aside, I am so incredibly grateful for the authors to have brought them to life and allowed us to read these absolute GEMS of a fic in this little, little fandom of The Novel's Extra.

Really, y'guys have no idea how giddy and excited I get at every update.

Now, the fic in question?

1. Flowers of Agápē by DescendedGaia (Not sure if the author has a tumblr or any other social media... but lemme know if you want me to tag you :) )

Kim Hajin is a failure. There's no two ways to look at that objective truth. It's a truth that resonates through how others look at and ridicule him. It's a truth that echoes infinitely inside his head, compounding and doubling down on his inadequacies. It's a truth, despite the unconditional love of two parents that soothe but cannot dispel those haunting doubts. Kim Suho is simply perfection. The desperate vessel and ideal of Hajin's "ifs" and wishes. Because Kim Suho, the protagonist of Hajin's novel, is everything Hajin wants to be for his parents and more. But, that same story falls apart at the seams the same way Hajin has lost faith in himself. Yet, as the common narrative dictates, everything begins anew with an innocuous email requesting to remake Hajin's novel, his desperation and desire incarnate.

*** Alternatively, the extremes of Korean culture break Kim Hajin into someone who feels much more acutely, and everything shifts to the left.

This is such a MASTERPIECE. Hajin's characterisation in here is just *chefs kiss*. For me, thats one of the biggest plus points in this fic. Hajin is so much more emotionally sensitive in here and feels far more acutely than in the orignal, as should have been.

This fic has been adressing almost all the points that made me frown at or dislike in the orignal novel and manhwa (and from what I can notice, almost every one too).

This fic is kinda a rewrite of the orignal novel, (tho the author follows the manhwa flow of the story) with added Suho interactions, and such good characterization of Hajin, I fell in love at first read LMAO.

So far, there aren't any major spoilers (unless you read the author end note, where they give their own tid-bits of the chap, which sometimes contain spoilers too, or go to the comment section which may sometimes give you spoilers to the novel lol) If you are caught up with the manhwa, or atleast the season 1 of manhwa, then so far there won't be any spoilers for you!

And I think i'll stop talking about it here cuz if I keep going, I think i'll end up giving in-fic spoilers Lmao

(Oh, btw, this updates every other thursday! So far, it's been consistent in its updates ^^)

So onto the next fic!

2. Mountain To No one by @thek1ngtalks (as k1ng0fn0b0dy on ao3)

There's a number on his smartwatch that leads to nowhere. Suho's gotten in the habit of texting it throughout his day. Today, it texted back.

_ Or, in a world missing Kim Hajin, everyone is worse off. Fixing this starts with (a lot of) text messages between a protagonist and his missing piece.

And Man.... where do I begin? I have SO MUCH to say about this fic but I think i'll end up spoiling the whole fic if I start lmao. It's just so good dammit. Just gonna say that this fic takes after the end of the novel, after the conclusion. Only couple few remembers Hajin in the orignl right? Well, in this fic, nobody does. But Suho is probably (???) Going to be the first to remember... I dunno tbh, the fic is only 2 chaps in (and yes, I really adore it already)

I love what the author did with Suhos character and how he is dealing with the aftermath of... everything. Same goes for Hajin, and I love where they seems to be taking this fic. How they characterizes these two main characters and everything.

Listen, I have a LOT to say but i'll just end up giving spoilers so really go read it for yourself. This is another MASTERPIECE of a fic and I am so grateful for its presence in this little TNE fandom TT

Really, thankyou for such amazing fics authors!!

And that's all from me!! Lol I was so excited while writing this XD (could you tell? Lol)

(I edited this post twice because of all the typos I ended up making in excitement LMAO)

[fandoms-writings]

How about Vampire!Bucky with “Keep your pretty eyes on me.” and “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”?

But like, the classic vampires of Anne Rice, not the sparkly bastards from twilight? Perhaps soft!dark too?

Love Bites

Pairing: Dark!Vampire!Bucky x Human!Reader

Word Count: 3.4K (i just can't not write long fics)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, HEAVY DUBCON , smut, p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), blood, vampire feeding, it's kinda dark tbh, use of mind control (if i miss any please let me know so i can add it <;3)

A/N: I hope you enjoy love! this was tons of fun to write <3 thank you big time to @aquariusbarnes for beta reading for me! all mistakes are my own though.

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

You sniffled as you walked, watching the stone of the old road pass under your feet. You wished you could appreciate the history of the place, really take it in like you wanted to. You wished you could enjoy this trip like you intended to. You worked so hard to get the time off, to pay for it. It was your anniversary trip, you were supposed to be having fun.

This was anything but. You'd gone to the bar with John, your piece of shit husband, and he'd excused himself to the bathroom, but when you noticed he'd been gone awhile, you went looking for him. Just to find the bathroom door locked, moans flowing out from the crack at the bottom. The bar had a strict 'no sex in the bathroom' rule, so the bouncer kicked in the door, and there was John, balls deep in a girl you recognized from the booth next to the one you'd been waiting at. 

You'd removed your ring, threw it on the ground, and stormed out, which was a shame. You loved that ring, the ruby was just gorgeous in it. But John hadn't even chased after you, it was like he was a different person. 

You thought about the way he looked at you when the bouncer kicked in the door. His pupils were blown wide and it was like he wasn't even there anymore. You did take notice of the white dust around the edge of his nose though, so maybe he wasn't there. But that's no excuse, especially because you'd never even seen him do drugs. 

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself," said a voice from behind you. It was low and soft, smooth like honey. You turned around, wiping the tears from your face before looking at your observer. "It's dangerous at night." 

You gave him a tight lipped smile, "Thanks for the warning." He stepped out from the shadow, and you couldn't help the nerves that lit on fire in your belly. He was tall, built but not too muscular, his hair was cropped short, almost like a military cut. His sharp jaw was clean shaven, and he had gentle blue eyes. 

"You alright?" He asked, gesturing to your disheveled state. You sighed, pursing your lips for a moment debating on if you should really tell a stranger your life, but you'd probably never see him again, so what's the harm? 

"I'm supposed to be here on my anniversary trip," You muttered, "but I found him cheating not even two days into our trip, so. . ." You crossed your arms, shrinking in on yourself as he approached you. 

"Well, he sounds like an idiot," He said, stopping in front of you, "He'd have to be a moron to be able to even take his eyes off of you." He held his hand out, "I'm Bucky." 

You introduced yourself, placing your hand in his and let out a small gasp when he raised your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, even if it was something terrible that brought you out this way." He smiled, releasing your hand. "Can I walk with you? Just make sure you get to wherever you're going safely, if nothing else." 

You hesitated. This was a stranger, in an unfamiliar city, asking to walk with you to where you were staying. It sounded like a terrible disaster just waiting to happen. You shouldn't let him come with you to the hotel. 

Before you could process what was happening, you heard your voice agree, telling him he could join you, but you didn't remember giving your mouth permission to say those things. 

He fell into step beside you, keeping his hands shoved in his pockets, only bumping your elbow with his if he was trying to show you something. He told you about the city as you walked, distracting you from the events of earlier. He stopped at an old ice cream place, buying you a small cup of your favorite flavor, and taking you to a small park bench where he sat with you while you ate. 

"Thank you," You said when you finished your cup. He took it and threw it away before coming back and sitting next to you. "You really don't have to stick with me all night. I'm sure you have places to be." 

"This is the only place I want to be right now," He looked over at you with a small smile. 

"With a stranger?" You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself. The ice cream was good, but that mixed with the small night breeze, you can't stop the chills running up your spine. Bucky took notice and stood, pulling his sweater off and offering it to you as he sat back down. 

"I'd say you're just a little more than a stranger now," He chuckled. 

"I guess you're right," You smiled. 

"Are you planning on going back to your hotel?" He asked, "Would your husband be there?" 

Fuck, he's right. Your smile falls as you think about it. Where else would John go except back to the hotel? You didn't want to stay there if he was going to be there. He had a key so he could be there already, and you weren't ready for that. You didn't want to face him right now. 

You hang your head with a sigh, the tears beginning to well in your eyes again. "I don't know. I don't want to see him, but I have nowhere else to go. And neither does he, so he would definitely be there." You wiped at your face with your hands and let out a groan. 

Bucky didn't respond immediately, but when you looked over at him to apologize for all the drama going on in your life, he looked like he was debating on telling you something. 

"What is it?" You prompted, watching as he sighed. 

"I know you just met me," he started, "and by no means do you have to accept, but I have a spare room that you are more than welcome to stay in. At least for the night, and then in the morning you can sort your hotel stuff out and go stay wherever you want." 

You went to decline, this wasn't something you would accept from a stranger for multiple reasons. You didn't know him that well, you didn't want to impose, and he could be dangerous. But it was like when he asked to walk with you earlier - it felt like your body had a mind of its own as you heard yourself agreeing to stay with him, and before you knew it, you were following him to a lavish apartment building in the middle of the city. 

"You live here?" You asked as you eyed the building in wonder, the towering skyrise seemingly reaching into the heavens. 

"I do," He smirked down at you as he held the door open for you, leading the way to the elevator. You watched as he pressed the very top floor button.

"Top floor, huh?" 

"Best view of the city, you'll see," He smiled down at you before looking forward again. You eyed him a bit - you could've swore you saw a hint of a different color in his eyes, but you couldn't get another good look to confirm. 

The elevator stopped and you pulled the sweater tighter around you, nerves beginning to set you more on edge then before as you waited for the doors to open. 

The doors opened, and he was right, the view was spectacular. 

The place was lined with floor to ceiling windows where you could see the expanse of almost the entire city below you. There were only a few lights on here and there, the place mostly lit up by the moon right out the windows. 

His decor screamed money in a dark modern luxury type of way. The furniture was all dark wood with even darker cushions. You kept him in your peripheral as you walked around the room. If you had to guess, he was probably working for the mafia, or he was a CEO of some huge company you'd never heard of. No one his age could afford this place without being famous for something. 

"You want anything to drink? Or eat?" He asked as he led the way to the kitchen, turning on lights as he went.

"Just some water would be lovely," You said, following a bit behind him. Something about this place made you uneasy, you weren't sure what it was - if it was him, or how high up you were, or the fact that for some reason you had agreed to this - but you were attempting to keep your distance just in case. 

You watched as he filled your glass and slid it across the counter in front of you, adding nothing strange to your drink in the process. 

That's good at least, you thought. He started talking about where the shower was, where you could find towels, and that he'd get you a spare change of clothes so you didn't have to smell like the bar anymore. You took him up on the offer, grabbing everything you needed before locking yourself in the grand guest bathroom. 

~~~

"This is the guest room, and I'm down the hall," Bucky stated as you followed him through the hall. You noticed none of the bedrooms had windows and you thought it was odd, but at least the sun wouldn't wake you the second it rose. 

"Thank you, for letting me stay," You said, fiddling with the edge of the shirt he gave you, your legs warmed by the fleece pants. "I really appreciate it. I owe you." 

"Of course," He smiled down at you. "You don't owe me anything," he reached forward, picking a piece of lint from your shoulder, "all I want to do is help you forget about your husband." 

Your brows scrunched together, "What?" 

"After the night you've had, don't you think you deserve to have some fun?" He suggested, reaching to cup your cheek. His hand was oddly cold, but you did just take a hot shower so you didn't think too much about it. "Say the word, and I'll make you forget about your moron of a husband. Or I'll leave you to your room." 

It was like all the air was sucked out of your lungs as you stared up at him. He wore this look of sincerity and. . . hunger? How long had it been since you'd been on the receiving end of that stare? John hadn't really cared the past few months, you'd hoped this trip would spark something in him again. He'd run off with some woman from the bar, not even 50 feet from you, so what harm would sleeping with Bucky do? 

He'd been nothing but nice to you, catering really. He'd taken care of you, though you did have those two moments where your body betrayed you in favor of his wishes. But, maybe that was your body telling you something. If anything, you'd just slip out in the morning the second the sun came up. 

Reaching up to grab his hand, you nodded, "Make me forget about him." You whispered it, but the second it left your lips, his eyes darkened, darker than you've ever seen anyone's eyes go. 

He nodded, moving to lace your fingers with his as he led you down the hall to the master bedroom. It was just as lavish as the rest of the apartment, maybe even more so. The bed was massive, lined with a deep rich red comforter and sheets that looked as soft as clouds. He pulled you to the edge of it before cupping your cheeks, pulling you in till you were just a breath away. 

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking to you for confirmation before he moved. 

"Yes," You muttered, gasping when his lips met yours. It was slow at first, the way his lips moved with yours, like he was learning how you kissed, how you liked to be kissed, before he deepened it. His tongue slipped past your lips, taking a quick taste at your mouth before retreating, like he was asking for permission - permission which you granted. 

He tasted the entirety of your mouth as he hands moved under the shirt to paw at your skin, gripping and pulling you flush against him as he groaned into your mouth. He guided you towards the bed, pulling away to let you lay across the comforter, which was as soft as you imagined. 

Laying himself above you, he slotted his knee between your legs, pushing his thigh into your warm core, smirking at the small whine you let out as your hips grinded down on his thigh. "Eager are you?" He mumbled against your lips, "Did your lousy husband never satisfy you?" 

"He used to, but not lately," it ignited a bit of shame, admitting how unfulfilled you were in your marriage, but all Bucky did was smile as his hands moved to the waistband of your pants. 

"I'll fix that," he pulled your pants gently down your legs, admiring your skin as he went. "Don't you worry." He winked at you before grabbing one of your legs and starting a trail of wet kisses up from your ankle. Suddenly, it was like all of your nerves fizzled out. You were almost completely comfortable laying there, like you belonged. 

He ran his nose up your calf and your thigh, stopping at your hip to place another wet kiss, sucking a bit on your skin and sending shivers of excitement up your spine. Pushing the shirt up over your chest, he followed it with his lips and his tongue, inhaling your skin, savoring it as long as he could. You'd never had someone be so attentive, so infatuated with you that they took their time like this. He helped you out of the shirt before settling between your thighs.

"I've barely even started and you're already dripping," He slowly said, his voice starting the butterflies in your stomach. He leaned down, placing a gentle peck to your clit, smirking when your hips jolted, trying to get more pressure. "You are eager." 

"Please," You whispered, watching with half lidded eyes, "please, Bucky." 

"Mm," he hummed, reaching up to grab your breast, gently tugging on your hardened nipple, "only because you asked so sweetly." 

He flattened his tongue along your folds before dragging it up and circling his lips around your clit, groaning into you when you let out a wanton moan. Your hands dove down, trying to grip his short cropped hair, tugging him closer with what you could grab, settling for just gripping his head. 

He ate you like he'd done this a thousand times before. He knew exactly when to speed up, and when to slow to keep you teetering on the edge, the band that quickly grew in your stomach just ready to snap. 

He pulled his tongue off of you, cooing at you when you whined at the loss, trying to pull him back. He pulled his hand from your breast, using his thumb to circle your clit, pushing on it every so slightly. 

"Now," He started, his voice raspy as he sunk a finger into your cunt, "I need just one thing from you, before I give you what you want - what you need." 

You looked down at him, swallowing the sudden nerves in your throat as you nodded. 

He smirked, his eyes going red, "I need you to stay still, and keep your pretty eyes on me." 

Your body froze and your eyes went wide. His suddenly red eyes sent a spark of fear through you, but your body wouldn't move out from under him, no matter how much you tried.  It was just like before, where your body followed his exact commands.

"Good girl," He growled as he curled his finger, brushing at that spongy spot, "I'll only take a little, I promise." His mouth opened in a hungry pant and you watched as his canines lengthened themselves into points. 

You wanted to run, to put as much distance between you and him as possible, but your body wouldn't move. He pulled at the skin of your thigh before gently sinking his fangs into you, the sharp pain only lasting a second before it went numb. You could feel him lapping at your skin, the blood flowing into his mouth.

He looked up at you for a split second before his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he moaned, the vibration running through your muscles. You shouldn't be turned on by this, you know you shouldn't, but the way he looked at you after, like you hung the sky itself, it was intoxicating. 

He pulled away gently, licking up the bit that escaped his lips before turning his attention back to you. "You taste even better than you smell." He wiped at the corner of his mouth with his free hand, licking the blood off of it before climbing up your body, curling his fingers again. 

"Now," He said, pulling his finger free from your pussy's grip on it, and pulling his cock free from his trousers, "Your turn." 

He lined himself up with your entrance after coating himself in your slick, and pushed in slowly to the hilt, filling you in a way you never knew before. He groaned once he was seated all the way in and he reached to grab your legs, holding them as he slowly started to rock into you. 

"I've been watching you since you got here," He stated, relishing in the tears that were starting in your eyes, "Your dumbass of a husband following you like a bored teenage boy. You deserve better. Then," He slammed his hips into yours, closing his eyes at the feeling of being so deep in you, "then I got a whiff of you, of your blood when you got that paper cut opening the welcoming card from your hotel. I knew I had to have you." 

He dropped one of your legs, placing his hand over your stomach, pushing down on the bulge he was creating with every thrust, the band in your stomach starting to grow tight again. "It was easy, getting him to listen to me. I found him in the bathroom, told him to fuck the girl who was gonna join him, and sent her in there." He smiled deviously down at you, an eerie hint of obsession tinting his eyes.  

"Then it was just a matter of waiting till you were far enough away from him that I could approach you," He leaned down till his nose was brushing against yours, "And fuck you're perfect. Make some noise for me, will you baby?" 

A loud moan tore itself from your throat and you couldn't stop the series of curses that left your lips as he sped up his hips, slamming into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over and over, quickly bringing you over the edge. But he stopped before you could topple over, and he gripped your cheeks, making you look at him again. 

"You'll forget about him," he ordered, "you belong to me, now." 

You couldn't remember who he was talking about, or what had happened. All you knew was that you were his, and he was yours. And he was fucking you so good. 

"That's it," He smiled when he noticed that familiar look in your eyes. His hand left your face, and his thumb circled your clit as he pounded into you again, tossing you quickly over the edge. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, your walls gripping him as he kept pumping in and out of you, quickly pushing you towards another one. 

The second one took you just a fast, your blood roaring in your ears. The smell of your blood rushing through your veins pushed him to his climax and you watched his hips stutter before painting your walls with his spend. 

"That's my girl," He panted. Once you caught your breath, he smiled down at you, "I have something for you." 

You smiled, "For me?" 

He reached for his pants without pulling out of you, and his hand dove into the pocket, pulling out a gorgeous ring. It had a silver band, with a ruby surrounded by small square cut diamonds. 

"Bucky," You gasped, "That's gorgeous, but why?" 

"My girl deserves pretty things, don't you think?" He slid it over your finger, smirking as it fit perfectly. "Look, it's like it was made for you." 

You smiled bright up at him with a laugh. "It's perfect," you muttered before reaching up to pull him down to you, slotting your lips over his, "Thank you." 

"Anything for my girl." 

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

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