#yeah i don't really know what this says about me

[moonstruckme]

Hey angel!! hope ur doing well!!

i was wondering if I could request roommate!marauders where they have crushes on reader buttt she already has a bf but he's just a total jerk.... and u sorta get the idea?? (if u haven't done one like this already)

much love!!! <3333

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: douchebag boyfriend, marauders fancy reader but don't genuinely want her to cheat or end her relationship for them

(poly)roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It’s heartbreaking how lovely you look first thing in the morning. Sweet, rumpled pajamas, plodding gait, sunlight stretching over features still soft with sleep. You raise your hand to cover a yawn as you enter the kitchen, eyelashes still drooping like they’ve weights sewn into them. 

“Morning,” you say on the tail end. 

“Morning.” James opens one arm to you. You step into the hug automatically, and he drops a kiss to your head, his own private indulgence. You’re eyeing the omelet he’s frying up with his other hand. “Want one?” 

“Mm, wish I could,” your voice is a somnolent mumble, “but Dale’s taking me to breakfast in a bit.” 

James tries not to react, but his hold on you stiffens some. From the living room, he hears Sirius scoff. “Oh.” 

“I’m sure your omelet would be better.” You pat his side, moving out from under his arm to go to the coffee pot. “We’re going to this cafe he likes, and they never have anything I want. Still, I can hardly show up full.” 

James feels himself frown. Typical of your boyfriend to take you somewhere you don’t even like. Perhaps he’s a tad biased, but James thinks you should eat one of his omelets and show up full just to teach him a lesson. 

He plates up the one he’s just finished. You tail him into the living room as he delivers it to Sirius, curling your feet up underneath you on the couch. Remus is sitting in the armchair reading the paper. He and James have already had their breakfasts, but you and Sirius are always the last up on weekends.

“Are you finished with the funnies?” you ask Remus. 

He looks up at you with a tenderness James doesn’t know how you can’t see. “Yeah,” he says, shaking out a page. “Here.” 

Sirius snickers at your choice of reading material as you reach across him for it. You nudge his thigh with your knee. “Bite me.” 

“Anywhere you’d like me to, babe.” He winks. 

You roll your eyes and fold the page to read, well used to Sirius’ flirting. Similarly to how he’d done with Remus, Sirius’ ill-advised tactic for winning you over involves alternating between taunting you relentlessly and acting like his affection for you is all one big joke. It only barely worked on Remus—James’ interference had been required there, and that was before he’d admitted to himself his own feelings for either of the two boys—so James doesn’t understand why Sirius would give it another go with you. 

“Oh.” Remus closes his paper, seeming to remember something. “I was wondering if you might have time to go with me to the farmer’s market this morning. We’re out of eggs, but I can’t haggle with the woman like you do.” 

You give him a sorry sort of smile. “I would, but Dale’s meant to pick me up at ten.”

“Oh, well.” Sirius rolls his eyes, chewing malignantly on a bite of omelet. “If Dale said he’ll be here at ten, then surely that’s what’s happening.” 

You bump his thigh again good naturedly. “Be nice.” 

James bites his tongue, and even Remus reopens his newspaper with a tad more vigor than necessary. Sirius is by far the most vocal with you about your boyfriend’s flaws, but your roommates all hate him. The guy’s a prick. James would never in a million years try to convince you to leave your partner for them—and despite Sirius’ joking, he knows neither of the other boys would want that either—but if you broke up with Dale, he would be very tempted to throw a party. 

James really doesn’t understand how someone like you could end up with someone so holistically unpleasant as your boyfriend. He’s rude, inconsiderate, he doesn’t express any gratitude for the sweet things you do for him, and he is never where he says he’s going to be when he says he’s going to be there. He shows so little regard for anyone but himself. If he told you he was going to pick you up at ten in the morning, he’s just as likely to arrive at three in the afternoon. Even for your half-hearted defense of him, it’s nearly ten and you’ve made no move to change out of your pajamas or get ready, because you know he won’t be here on time. It irks your roommates to no end to see you tolerate such poor treatment. 

“Maybe you can go with Remus to the farmer’s market,” you tell Sirius. “You seem like you could negotiate.” 

“Sirius doesn’t know how much eggs are supposed to cost,” Remus says idly. 

“Oi!” Sirius objects through a mouthful of omelet. “I do so.” 

James smiles at him. “Really. How much do you think eggs cost, love?” 

Sirius manages to take another bite while James is asking, so his mouth is conveniently too full to answer. 

“I can manage it on my own,” Remus says with indulgent fondness. “Dove, do me one favor, though?” 

You lift your coffee. “Sure.” 

“Don’t let him summon you outside with his horn again.” 

There’s a brief but thick silence while you finish swallowing your coffee and all three boys try not to look too obviously judgmental (Sirius trying the least, naturally). The purse of your lips reveals some embarrassment. 

Still, your voice comes out unconcerned. “It’s not a big deal to me. It’s not like we’re in school and I need him to come to the door and meet my parents. It’s a time saver.” 

“It’s rude,” says Remus gently. “You deserve someone who will come to the door for you.” 

James’ thoughts exactly. 

“Sure you don’t want some toast or something while you wait?” James asks, partly to dispel the tension and partly because he really does think you should eat something if Dale isn’t likely to be here until the afternoon. “You could call it an appetizer.” 

You stand with your emptied coffee mug, passing an affectionate hand over James’ hair as you move between his legs and the coffee table. “Thanks,” you say genuinely, “but I’m alright. I’m going to go get ready.” 

However eager James is to avoid the tension that comes from insulting (or, really, just speaking frankly about) your boyfriend, Sirius has no such concerns. “While we’re telling Dale things,” he says after you, “be sure to remind him that our flat has a three-strike roommate tears policy. Next time you come home crying, Jamie and I get to make a house call.” 

Your laughter echoes down the hallway. “Sure, I’ll let him know.” 

Sirius looks at James, perplexed. “Did I sound like I was joking? I was not using my joking voice.” 

James pats his leg consolingly.

[postracehair]

trust me

max verstappen x reader | 2.3k

after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.

cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.

a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.

__

The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.

Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.

But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.

Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.

You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.

"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"

"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.

"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.

"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."

That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.

But you should know better, it seems.

"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."

You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."

He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.

"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"

You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.

"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."

Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.

The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.

"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.

"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."

"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."

That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.

You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.

"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."

"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."

Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"

You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?

"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."

He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.

But how do you explain this?

"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.

But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.

You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"

His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."

Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"

Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."

You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.

"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."

One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.

"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."

"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"

If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.

"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."

He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.

"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."

He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.

Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.

"You trust me, right?"

"Of course," you say right away. "Always."

"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."

"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.

"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."

Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."

You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.

Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."

He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.

"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."

Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.

"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.

"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"

Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"

"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"

The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.

And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.

"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."

"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 6

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love. 

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

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

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

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

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

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

You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”

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

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

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

“So?”

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

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

I love you.

You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You - Four Years Prior

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You - Present Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him. 

All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right? 

“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.

“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier. 

She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.

“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”

“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.

You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.

“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”

Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”

The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you. 

“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”

You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”

She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.

When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”

“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings. 

Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”

His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now? 

Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?

Joel

I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music. 

Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers. 

I love you. 

Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder. 

I fucking love you.

You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him. 

“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.

He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”

“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.

“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.

“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”

“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”

You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”

One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song. 

A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart. 

You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”

At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.

“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.

The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”

“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”

Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.  

“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”

You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”

“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?” 

“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”

You

“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.

Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”

That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.

The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.” 

Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”

He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore. 

You’re falling in love with Joel Miller. 

“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.

Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over. 

The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it. 

Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”

“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”

He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.” 

The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage. 

“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.  

“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.

“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”

You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”

The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage. 

“He’s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar. 

“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.

You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.

His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?” 

God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”

You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”

Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage. 

He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with. 

Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.

He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”

His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar. 

If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself

His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.

Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords. 

Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore

You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place. 

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel. 

Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?

The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.

All the complexities and games  No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on

You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see  Our future days  Days of you and me

And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.

When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us

This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.

And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest

You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’

All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.

‘Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.

So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay

‘I’m here for you’.

No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone

You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing. 

You and me It’s just, you and me

You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”

Joel

The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.

He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women. 

You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?” 

He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.” 

He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.

No, I just love her.

He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you. 

His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”

You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints. 

As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”

He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.

The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”

It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit. 

A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once. 

“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”

You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.

A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”

You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.

“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”

He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”

Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane. 

His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him. 

He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.

You

The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”

What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him. 

“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’

His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties. 

The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you. 

“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible. 

He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.

He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”

His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”

The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him. 

“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.

He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin��� girl.”

Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you. 

The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady. 

“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.

“Take me to the club.”

“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours. 

“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”

“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”

Joel

This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are. 

“I can take you home if you want.”

“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.

Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”

He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.

He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.

“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.

“What do you need?”

You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”

I love you. 

He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.

“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.

You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”

He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?” 

You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”

“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.

“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office. 

“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused. 

“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.

When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful. 

I love you. 

You

Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side. 

“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.

“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull. 

“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.” 

“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.” 

He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright. 

If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego. 

Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet. 

You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”

You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?” 

You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.” 

You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.

“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn’t you sweet girl?” 

You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.” 

“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.” 

He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him. 

He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours. 

“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy. 

Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants. 

As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric. 

“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!” 

He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.” 

The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.” 

For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently. 

“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.” 

You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.

“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back. 

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”

You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.

He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.

“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

 The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”

You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him. 

“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says,  “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”

“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.

“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”

This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you. 

“Is this ok?” He whispers.

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips. 

“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”

Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.

His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”. 

You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now. 

“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does. 

His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.

“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”

“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.” 

“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.

Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers. 

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.

Joel

He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach. 

“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece. 

More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.

Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”

He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen. 

He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”

He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel. 

I love you.

Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”

“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat. 

He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”

“Again,” he growls.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.

He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you. 

  He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.

Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.” 

He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling. 

“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip. 

“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you. 

The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.

There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way. 

Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl. 

“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips. 

His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”

Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”

He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk. 

“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.

“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…” 

His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating. 

“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.

“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved. 

The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you. 

He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.” 

“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.” 

“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask. 

“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.” 

“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”

“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”

The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now. 

“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”

Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”

Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep. 

His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”

Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”

Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”

“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed. 

He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”

You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”

“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”

“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his. 

There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”

Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany. 

“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”

“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”

[theminecraftbee]

Cleo sits next to Scott, her head in her hands, and says—

—“I really thought it’d be different this time.” BigB sighs. He kicks his foot. Ren is, at least, a sympathetic ear. He understands these things, or at least he understands that it’s hard to be alone. “I mean, I know you don’t trust those guys…”

“I don’t,” agrees Ren.

“But they reached out, man. And I thought, well,”—

—“I could always bury the hatchet, you know?” Cleo says. “It’s been what, how many games? How many years? And I can recognize when I’m as much of the problem as someone else.”

“You had a reason to be a problem. I love that you’re a problem,” Scott says supportively. Pearl snorts in the corner.

“I’m good at being a problem!” Cleo says

“I know, you are,” Scott agrees.

“But it’s like—I don’t know. Maybe I was ready to be done being angry! Maybe I…”—

—“…just wanted a change.”

BigB is quiet. He lets the thought sit in the air. Ren, normally a man determined to fill silences, at least understands the value of a dramatic pause; he doesn’t say anything yet.

Martyn, however, has grown a bit more impatient over the sessions. "What kind of change? You two have been weird about each other for years."

BigB is quiet a moment more. "Did you know that—Ren, did you know that you were the first and last person to show me trust?"

"Uh, thank you, dude," Ren says.

"But like, the thing is, people, they stabbed us then, man. And it's just..."—

—"...he didn't have to! That's what gets me! He could have like... said anything to me? I don't ask much! I offered him my hand! I said, sure man. I'm gonna forgive you, just this once. We can try again. And he just—he tried to kill you! Why?"

"I mean, Scott is one of the people with the most lives," Impulse says reasonably. "And he didn't betray you."

"That's not how teams work, Impulse," Cleo says. "You can't just get rid of the teammate you don't like. The team is only as strong..."—

—"...as weak as it's component parts."

Ren and Martyn stare.

"Jesus, BigB," Martyn says.

BigB looks away. "Yeah, um, well. I don't think that's that stupid. It's not about you two, really. And this is a death game, right? I didn't attack her. It's just... I wasn't going to, really. I wasn't..."—

—"...he was going to, that's the thing. He's always going to do... this!"

"Maybe that's what you get for reaching out to a traitor," Scott says lightly.

Impulse looks away. Pearl snorts again. Cleo sighs.

"Look, I have a long memory, but if I let that decide everything I do forever it would eat me. And people have their reasons. Impulse, look Scott in the eyes, he's not even the reason you have that reputation. Pearl, you're a part of the team. That's the thing. People can change. People..."—

—"...can't change, really." BigB shrugs. "She should know better by now."

"Uh, dude, should we know better?" Ren asks.

"Nah. I mean, Martyn's worse than I am," BigB says cheerfully.

"Martyn," Ren says, sounding vaguely disappointed. Martyn crosses his arms.

"What? You're the one who said I had evil in me. If you take in a snake, you can't be mad if it bites you. If you take in a scorpion..."—

—"...you can hope it learns not to sting you. I don't know. Maybe it's just in his nature."

Pearl makes a strange noise. "And what's in my nature?"

Cleo sighs. She steps over and throws an arm around Pearl's shoulder.

"As long as you don't bite me? I'm willing to learn." Pearl leans into Cleo's arm slightly. Cleo can't help but wonder, some days, how much of the way she flinches back again is her fault. BigB isn't the only one that Cleo hopes can change his nature. Otherwise...

"I'm not actually a traitor, despite what everyone claims," Impulse says, apropos of nothing.

"You know, you should pick better friends," Scott says.

"Nah," Cleo says. She doesn't elaborate. She just—

—breathes. BigB just breathes.

"It was never going to work, anyway," he says.

"Sometimes I wonder if everyone broke while I wasn't looking," Ren says quietly, sadly. BigB has no answer for that.

[saikenakoego]

Last one before I try doing it with another character (and before i force myself to get back to work on art and stuff lol)

With the usual lady herself. The scourge of the undead and the paranormal alike. Hunter of monsters. Breaker of bones (and hearts). EATER OF RARE HAMBURGERS.

The unwilling vampire, Sammy!

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv This gal! vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

This one is really long, so I'll be dividing them by sections like the original!

Appearance

1. What is your favorite physical trait that you possess?

SM: If I could, I'd be feeling flustered right now. But since I can, I'll just say something at random.

SM: ...

SM: Hair.

2. What would you wear if they told you you had to gussy up?

SM: ...

SM: I AM gussied up.

3. Is there anything about your appearance that you would change if possible?

SM:

SM: Hope that answers your question.

4. Do you have a favorite material that you like to wear?

SM: Denim or leather. Easy to wash, hardy enough. Hides bloodstains.

5. What's your opinion on scars?

SM: I miss them.

6. How much do you take interest in trends?

SM: More than I'd like to. Apex predators have to stay at the top of the game.

SM: Oh, you mean fashion trends? About the same. Even if I don't feel anything, I want to look my best when I put the bloodsuckers back in their graves.

7. Is there someone you try to look similar to?

SM: Myself. From about 2 years ago.

8. Do you have a physical trait that you're known for?

SM: Take a guess.

9. What do you smell like?

SM: Wouldn't you like to know. Good enough, is what I'll say.

10. If you could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

SM: Sunglasses. Or a new jacket. Anything that can help keep me cool.

11. Is your favorite color a color you wear often?

SM: Yeah.

12. Have you gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

SM: I guess you could say somethin' like that.

13. What is something you would refuse to wear?

SM: Anything degrading.

14. Is there a style you're afraid you can't pull off?

SM: Average.

15. Would you wear something someone else picked for you?

SM: Silver picked this outfit for me. It's easy to move in and looks good, so I don't mind.

16. Is your appearance more telling or deceiving?

SM: What a way to ask about it. Hopefully the first one.

17. What are your thoughts on wearing costumes?

SM: It's been tainted for me, the whole "human pretending to be a monster" thing. But if it's for innocent fun, I try not to mind.

18. Do you have a favorite outfit?

SM: I feel like I already answered this.

19. If you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?

SM: Crucifix. Practical reasons.

Objects

1. Is there an item you don't like to live without?

SM: Crucifixes. Have to keep them upside down, though.

2. What gift would you give to someone you didn't like, but felt obligated to?

SM: Something as cheap as generic as possible. A card or something.

3. What object is likely to catch your attention?

SM: The answer is inside you. Literally.

4. Is there an item you liked that you can't get back?

SM: Don't think so. None that I recall.

5. Would you ever try to haggle?

SM: Depends. For what?

6. Is there something you're proud to own?

SM: I can't feel pride anymore. But I used to brag a lot about my cd collection.

7. Do you ever spend more time than you have?

SM: I have all the time in the world. But I do spend more time than I should...

8. What would it take for you to give up an item you like?

SM: A stake, or cash. Depends.

9. Do you prefer to give or receive gifts?

SM: As long as they're useful, receive.

10. Is there a type of object you don't like?

SM: Anything that can cause bodily harm. And I don't mean to myself.

11. What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for you?

SM: Burger.

12. Do you personify objects?

SM: No, but I know someone who does.

13. What do you most enjoy shopping for?

SM: Nothing in particular.

14. Is there an item you're embarrassed to own or want?

SM: Again, I can't feel embarrassment anymore.

15. Would you prefer something bought or made personally?

SM: Something that functions.

16. Are you willing to ask for things?

SM: Who isn't?

17. What is most important to you when shopping?

SM: Keeping an eye on the budget. Unlike some people I know.

Food and Drink

1. What flavor would you say your personality is?

SM: Bitter.

2. Would you prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

SM: Cooking. No one seems to get it right for me.

3. Is there a food or drink you're unwilling to try?

SM: Their... "specialty".

4. How big is your appetite?

SM: One appetite too big.

5. Do you consider eating fun?

SM: These questions make me angry.

6. Would you consider eating something you didn't like just to appease someone?

SM: No.

7. Is there food that has made you sick?

SM: Not anymore.

8. What is your favorite food group?

SM: Food has groups?

SM: ...Why?

9. Do you like to try new foods?

SM: I sure hope I did.

10. What is a childhood meal you cherish?

SM: ...Burger.

11. Are you food-motivated?

SM: ...

SM: Really?

12. Which meal time is your favorite?

SM: The final kind.

13. How much do you care about wasting food?

SM: Very. My mother raised me well.

14. Do you prefer restaurant or home-cooked food?

SM: Restaurant. For the time being.

15. What food or drink do you consider a treat?

SM: Burger...

16. Is there a food texture you don't like?

SM: Liquid, viscous and slightly oily.

17. What kind of drinks do you prefer?

SM: Water.

Weather and Nature

1. What would you do if you were suddenly caught in the rain?

SM: Find a place with a roof.

2. Have you ever had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

SM: If I have, I can't recall.

3. What season would you say you're most similar to?

SM: ...What?

4. Is there a natural phenomenon that scares you?

SM: I don't feel fear. But for sake of the question, I'd rather not be involved with any right now.

5. Have you ever had an animal phase?

SM: Don't think so.

6. Do you enjoy sky-gazing?

SM: I don't mind it when Johnny asks me to join him. That's about it.

7. Do you have a good sense of direction?

SM: Yeah. Par for the course.

8. What type of environment do you like best?

SM: Not too hot, not too cold.

9. Are you good with animals?

SM: Animals tend to run away from me. Don't blame 'em.

10. How would you react to snow?

SM: Just 'cuz Vegas is in a desert doesn't mean it doesn't snow. The place is literally called Nevada, por dios.

11. What part of nature do you most resonate with?

SM: The supernatural has no place within the natural world.

12. Could you survive on your own in the wilderness for a week or more?

SM: Depends on the place. Probably.

13. What element best represents you?

SM: Darkness.

14. Do you prefer hot or cold weather?

SM: Cold. Reasonably cold.

15. Is there a creature that scares you?

SM: No.

16. What celestial body interests you the most?

SM: The sun.

17. Are you good with plants?

SM: About as good as anyone.

18. How willing would you be to nap outside?

SM: Unwilling.

19. What animal would you say best represents you?

SM: A mosquito.

Community and Relationships

1. Do you prefer company or solitude when sick?

SM: I don't get sick.

SM: ...

SM: But Silver being a pest during... that, wasn't so bad.

2. What is your favorite kind of social event?

SM: None.

3. How comfortable would you be with singing and dancing in front of everyone?

SM: I would not care. Though it would be better if I got something out of it.

4. Are you upfront about your feelings?

SM: If I had any.

5. Who would you seek first if you needed medical help?

SM: Nobody. For their sake.

6. How willing would you be to go to a party with people you don't know?

SM: If it leads to something useful, willing. Otherwise, rather not.

7. Who are you most honest with?

SM: Silver.

8. How likely is it for you to initiate a friendship?

SM: Unlikely.

9. Where is your comfort place?

SM: ...Home.

10. Is there a habit you've learned from someone else?

SM: Less learned and more forcefully conditioned into me.

11. Do you think you have people who would worry about you if you got injured?

SM: Yeah. Somehow.

12. How would you react to being put in a position of leadership?

SM: I don't like it.

13. Would you be good at providing medical assistance?

SM: Would a starving bear be good at it? Carajo.

14. Who would you say knows you best?

SM: Silver. Maybe a little too much.

15. Is there a person you would turn to for backup in a fight?

SM: The boys. Either of them, for different reasons.

16. Who would you most like to sign your cast if you got one?

SM: If I were able to get a cast? Everyone, probably.

17. How well do you work with others?

SM: Well enough.

18. What is your favorite form of affection?

SM: Minding your business.

19. Do you enjoy celebrating holidays?

SM: I really don't care.

20. What would it take for you to get into a fight?

SM: Not much.

Mind, Body and Soul

1. What is a habit you have that others might find cute?

SM: I don't think anyone would ever find me cute.

2. Are there any particular sounds you're fond of?

SM: Heartbeats.

3. Are you more prone to fight or flight?

SM: Fight.

4. Do you believe in myths and fairytales?

SM: Do you?

5. What words could tear you down?

SM: None.

6. How well do you act under pressure?

SM: Pressure isn't something I'm familiar with.

7. Are you good at practicing self-care?

SM: That's not a luxury I can afford.

8. What do you find most comforting?

SM: Not comforting, but I'd rather be left alone.

9. Do you have any allergies?

SM: No.

10. Are you a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

SM: I don't need sleep.

11. Do you have a strong willpower?

SM: Given how everyone around me remains safe and ignorant, I'd say yes.

12. Are you more likely to give advice or take it?

SM: Johnny seems to ask me for advice often, and I can't understand why.

13. How do you relax?

SM: I don't.

14. Is there a secret you long to hear?

SM: The method to end this madness.

15. Do you have a sleep routine?

SM: I used to.

16. Would you feel confident in a fight?

SM: Why would you be in a fight otherwise?

17. Are you more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

SM: Night. Self explanatory.

18. How often do you have nightmares?

SM: ...Often.

19. Are there scents you dislike?

SM: Blood.

20. Is there a fear you'd like to learn to overcome?

SM: I fear nothing.

21. If you had to act in a play, what role do you think you'd perform best?

SM: Background character. A tree or something.

22. Do you have a high pain tolerance?

SM: Pain is a quality of the living.

Hobbies and Activities

1. What kind of games do you most enjoy playing?

SM: Silver introduced me to Castlevania. Good game.

2. Do you have a secret hobby?

SM: Its a secret.

3. What talent do you wish you had?

SM: The talent to end this quickly.

4. Is there an activity you used to enjoy that you now dislike?

SM: ...Hard to decide.

5. Which do you prioritize more, work or hobbies?

SM: Work.

6. Do you work better with creative or technical endeavors?

SM: Direct endeavors.

7. What is a talent you're proud of?

SM: The talent to brutalize all these parasites.

8. Are you more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

SM: ...

SM: "Indoorsy".

9. What is a topic you'd be exited to talk about?

SM: Again. Can't feel excitement.

10. Is there a skill that you don't know you're bad at?

SM: I-- What?

11. Do you have any injury story?

SM: Fine. Since you're so insistent. Let's see, I've been stabbed and maimed multiple times. I've had my limbs torn one by one. I've been cut in half. Decapitated. Had my bones broken. One time I had to gouge my own eyes out. Had my tongue pulled off. My neck broken. I've been ripped apart, and one other time I was eviscerated. Then I got flayed. Had my skull caved in, my mandible displaced. And lately I had my brains blown out with my own friend's gun.

SM: Oh, and this one time a creep bit me and drank my blood. But really, it didn't hurt. Happy now?

12. What kind of music do you enjoy?

SM: I used to like pop. But lately, I've been subjected to hours of rock music by Silver.

SM: It's not so bad. The guttural screams keep my... mind off things.

13. Have you ever made something for yourself or someone else?

SM: I used to cook often.

14. What is your opinion on cheating in games?

SM: A necessary evil sometimes.

15. How good are you at following through on projects?

SM: VERY good.

16. What's an activity that reminds you of someone else?

SM: That's... I don't wanna answer that.

17. Do you prefer music or silence?

SM: Its complicated.

18. What is something you wouldn't wanna talk about?

SM: I don't want to talk about it.

🌸My Super Long Hopefully Fun Character Ask Game:

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

Does your character have a favorite material they like to wear?

What are your character's opinion on scars?

How much interest does your character take in trends?

Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

What does your character smell like?

If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

What is something your character would refuse to wear?

Is there a style your character is afraid they can’t pull off?

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Is your character's appearance more telling or deceiving?

What are your character's thoughts on wearing costumes?

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

📦Objects

Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

What gift would your character give to someone they didn't like but felt obligated to?

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back? 

Would your character ever try to haggle?

What is something your character is proud to own?

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

Is there a type of object your character doesn’t like?

What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

Does your character personify objects?

What does your character most enjoy shopping for?

Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Would your character prefer something bought or made personally?

Is your character willing to ask for things?

What is most important to your character when shopping?

🍽️Food and Drink

What flavor would your character say their personality is?

Would your character prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

Is there a food or drink your character is unwilling to try?

How big is your character's appetite?

Does your character consider eating fun?

Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

Is there food that has made your character sick?

What is your character's favorite food group?

Does your character like to try new foods?

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

Is your character food motivated?

Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

How much does your character care about wasting food?

Does your character prefer restaurant food or home cooked food?

What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Is there a food texture your character doesn't like?

What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

What season would your character say they're most similar to?

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Has your character ever had an animal phase?

Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

Does your character have a good sense of direction?

What type of environment does your character like best?

Is your character good with animals?

How would your character react to snow?

What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

Could your character survive in the wilderness on their own for a week or more?

What element best represents your character?

Does your character prefer hot or cold weather?

Is there a creature that scares your character?

What celestial body would interest your character the most?

Is your character good with plants?

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

What animal would your character say best represents them?

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know?

Who is your character most honest with?

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

Where is your character's comfort place?

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance?

Who would your character say knows them best?

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight?

Who would your character most want to sign their cast if they got one?

How well does your character work with others?

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

Does your character believe in myths and fairy tales?

What words could tear your character down?

How well does your character act under pressure?

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

What scents does your character find comforting?

Does your character have any allergies?

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

Does your character have strong willpower?

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it?

How does your character relax?

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Does your character have a sleep routine?

Would your character feel confident in a fight?

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

How often does your character have nightmares?

Are there scents your character dislikes?

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

If your character had to act in a play what role would they think they’d best perform?

Does your character have a high pain tolerance?

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Does your character have a secret hobby?

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

Which does your character try to prioritize more, work or hobbies?

Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

Is your character more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about? 

Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at?

Does your character have any injury stories?

What kind of music does your character enjoy?

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

How good is your character at following through on projects?

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

Does your character prefer music or silence?

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

[chaostudee]

afterglow, oscar piastri

summary : y/n and oscar are childhood bestfriends and y/n tries to be supportive as she can by coming to his races and cheering him on. oscar enjoys y/n's company but sometimes he wishes that he could have you all to himself. in truth you are both just to stubborn to admit that you like each other, a little more than just friends. faceclaim : julia hatch a/n : i'm so obsessed with this acc <3

y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, and 456,618 others.

user627 oml

username_11 the prettiest redhead

user9_782 oh girl we need the workout routine asap

sabrinacarpenter literally the most perfect ever 💋

y/nusername all you babes

username1415 to look like y/n 😫

f1fan the prettiest non-wag

user771 in my eyes she's a wag idc

y/nusername love supporting you bestie <3

》 girl u literally travel the whole world supporting him.....it's giving girlfriend

》 there is nooooo way they are just friends

》 my fav bestiessss

》 she's so supportive eeek i love her !!

》 our mclaren queen

oscarpiastri great weekend with a good haul of points !!

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,618,929 others.

y/nusername so so proud of you !!

oscarpiastri ❤️

user728 my fav driver forever

f1fan how can u hate on this cutie

username661 great drive oscar !!

user992 i will always be a mclaren girl idc

user290 oscar pastry

oscarpiastri y/n forced me to post these pictures.

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,729,562 others.

y/nusername okay but FORCED is such a strong word....i encouraged you

user728 omgg y/n is so gorge

f1fan okay but appreciation for oscar's photography skills because wowww

user910 love them sm acc

username_56 oh how i love summer break content

user72 oscar pls lemme steal your bsf

f1lover proof the boys and girls can just be friends

landonorris

》 IS THAT Y/N?!?!

》 LANDO WTHHH OMGGG

》 oscar is defo going to be mad

》 um what in the world

》 posting this on your public story is crazyyy

》 i don't want to hear anyone start saying that they are dating istggg

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

were you with lando today?? oscar

yeah y/n

oh i didn't know you guys were close oscar

we're just hanging out y/n

yeah right, i know lando oscar

omg stop oscar i can do what i want y/n

ik ik that y/n i'm just warning you oscar

okay well i rly don't care about what you think y/n

fine oscar

fine y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername now my life is sweet like cinnamon

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 1,772,929 others.

user728 oh !

username_89 she's really just that girl

f1fan not seeing oscar in the likes hurts

user627 imagine your teammate and bsf dating bleh

f1lover living for this drama idc

alexandrasaintmleux obssessed with the dress you look so gorge <3

y/nusername omgg tysmm it's from meskhi

user56 lando and oscar i fear i get it

username72 body is teaaa

f1_672 appreciation for the car 🫠

landonorris amazing weekend great to be back on the podium :)

liked by y/nusername, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen and 3,618,701 others.

maxverstappen great drive mate and a well deserved win

user that's my goat 🐐

username617 ugh his smile i cant

f1lover omgg best race of the season

user55 so ready for a drive to survive episode on this madness

user728 that podium is literally my dream blunt rotation

f1fan YES U GET IT user756 like carlos, lando and oscar omll i was dying username_55 it was all good until we got no landoscar interaction user617 stopp don't remind me 😭😭

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

hey.... y/n

oh wow you're talking to me again oscar

well i figured u needed space y/n

i never wanted space y/n i was just angry oscar

oh okay y/n

so did u want something or...?? oscar

well yk halloween is coming up y/n

oh you still want to do the costume oscar

well i mean we do it every year osc y/n

yeah true, well i guess we shouldn't break tradition oscar

oh yayyy great i'll send you the details :) y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

*written*

you stood adjusting your dress as excited chatter filled the room. the party was now in full swing and oscar had still not shown up. sure you had your doubts that he wouldn't but you had known oscar all your life, he wouldn't do that to you.

as if on cue the front door swings open and none other than the man himself steps inside before scanning the room. it's not long before his eyes latch onto yours and it feels as though your heart stops. you can't remember the last time you had seen him and the last time you weren't having an argument over something. oscar smiles and your heart begins to thump in your chest as you see him making his way over to you.

"hey" a familair voice beckons your attention.

you look up at him and smile when you notice that he wore the costume." nice costume" you say giggling as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

"oh yeah my best friend got it for me"

you nod smiling back at him. "so how have you been?"

you roll your eyes before drawing your attention back to him. "is this your subtle way of asking if me and lando are still together"

"i don't care about that" he blatantly lies, scrunching his nose.

"well if you must know we are taking a break right now he said he was too busy for a serious relationship".

oscar scoffs. "what an asshole".

"he's your bestfriend" you say confusingly as you believed that lando and oscar were close.

"yeah but so are you".

your heart warms when you hear that and you feel as though in that moment your friendship has been mended through unspoken words. yet you still wished that he would notice, notice how obviously and madly in love with him you are. you watched as he looked into the distance and there you sat admiring something from afar and out of reach.

y/nusername halloween ;)

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen and 11,772,929 others.

user HUH

user728 i'm so confused

f1fan u and me both girl

user61 if i was lando i would be so pissed BECAUSE WDYM THEY DID A COUPLES COSTUME TOGETHER

f1lover the real ogs know that they do a couples costume every year

user919 ya'll are hating but I LOVE

justaninchident oh how i missed them

user671 lando be tweaking rn

username717 the fits are on point

f1_55 blink twice oscar if u need help

mclaren lando and oscar youtube video up now !

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, user782 and 554,818 others.

user728 OMG THEY MADE UP

username LANDOSCAR YES YES

anon defo just pr

f1fan not lando calling oscar out for getting flustered over y/n 💀

justaninchident okay but the way oscar and lando are looking at eachother omg i acc can't

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between lando and y/n

you like him don't you lando

what makes u think that ?? y/n

are u fr y/n lando

the fact that you never stop talking about him and that everytime we are in the garage you can't keep your eyes off him lando

what do you even want me to say?! y/n

i want you to admit it lando

okay fine i like oscar y/n

for how long lando

lando pls y/n

y/n just tell me lando

i mean i've always loved him i just i don't know if he feels the same y/n

oh god you are both so so stupid lando

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

how come u and lando don't hang out as much oscar

wow straight to the point y/n

well why oscar

because y/n

because why oscar

because he's not you y/n

wdym oscar

omg you are so clueless , i never liked lando silly he was just a distraction a way to trick my mind into liking someone else y/n

oh well who do u like oscar

do i actually have to say y/n

yes i want to hear you say it oscar

you y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername my boy 💞

liked by oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 14,717,896 others.

user828 EEEEEEEEEKKKKK

username728 YES FINALLY

user734 STOP THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME

alexandrasaintmleux so so happy for you, you deserve this sm <3

landonorris happy for you's

user561 awww username717 and this is why i love lando

user727 the hard launch is launching

f1fan omgggg im cryinggg

username_62 they are so perfect for each other

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@sweetestgirlintown111

@mxryxmfooty

@hadidsworld

@llando4norris

@heavy-vettel

@janeh22

@love2readd

@depressedriches

@seonghwaexile

@nichmeddar

[verycoolusername1]

Don't think you understand

Summary: Quinn can't get ahold of his feelings, which leads him to push you away unintentionally.

Track 8 of short n' sweet - dumb & poetic

Warning! Slight miscommunication

A/N: This does have a happy ending :) and it's short. I apologize for that!! I just wanted to post something for the short n sweet masterlist(been delaying it)

And I gave you guys a bridgerton love confession kinda so enjoy that lmao

You haven't talked to him in weeks. The man was your best friend and you haven't talked to him in two months, how did this even happen?

Hmm, maybe when you had confessed your feelings to Quinn around the same time, you left without an answer, analyzing the blank look on his face, bringing enough of one for you.

This was your fifth tub of ice cream in two weeks, while on a call with Luke(and Jack, who also joined the supposed gossip session).

"Wait, so let me get this straight." Jack said, collecting his thoughts. "You told him you were in love with him, and he didn't say anything or have any reaction which led to you two not talking anymore?"

"Well, it certainly helps hearing it out loud." You grumbled.

"Sorry! I just need to recap so I know why I have to slap him when I next see him." Jack mutters the last part.

"You know, for him being the oldest, he sure is stupid." Luke chuckles.

"Pretty sure I'm the stupid one here, I mean, I thought he actually liked me back." You smiled Sadly.

"You think he doesn't like you in that way?" Jack asked, you nodded.

"Yeah, no, Quinn's definitely in love with you, Y/N. Have you seen the way he looks at you? The way his eyes seem to shine brighter when he talks about you." Luke shrugged.

"Okay, now you guys are feeding into my delusions." You rolled your eyes. "I lost my best friend because I couldn't control my feelings about him. And now I'm sitting on my kitchen floor, crying to Conan Gray while eating Ben & Jerry's."

There was a sudden knock on your door. Who could that be? It was late in the night in Vancouver.

"I'll be right back guys, don't hang up." You warned.

You walked up to the door and looked through the peephole and saw the man of the house standing on the other side. You unlocked it. How could you not?

"Quinn? What are you doin-?" You were cut off with Quinn kissing you passionately. You melted in the kiss before slowly breaking apart.

"I'm in love with you too." Quinn confessed. "I think I've been in love with you the moment I saw you falling off the swing when we were kids, if I'm being honest. It's very easy to fall in love with someone as special, charming, kind, heartless, caring, and comforting as you. I can't imagine being with anyone else other than you. And I don't even want to think about how sorry I am for not realizing it until now. But I love you Y/N, and I don't think I can ever stop - No, I know that I can't and won't."

Now it your time to be in shock.

"I understand if I'm too late, I just wanted you to know. I'm sorry for kissing you. I just wanted to know what it felt if it was the only time -" You cut Quinn off by kissing him.

"I love you too." You whispered. "Gosh you're so dumb and poetic."

Quinn chuckles. "What does that even mean?" He followed you into the house.

"Y/N!!! Did you get kidnapped? Omg Luke what if we gotta call the cops and tell them what happened and we gotta tell them she was crying about our idiotic brother-"

"Jack shut up." Luke looked at his brother bewildered.

"I'm just saying, could be a possibility." Jack mutters.

"I'm not dead guys." You picked up the phone.

"Y/N! You're alive. What happened? Who was at the door?" Luke asked, Jack chuckling behind him.

"Oh you know just this really hot guy." You answered simply.

"Okay? How hot was he? Is he gonna make you get over Quinn?" Jack asked.

"Very hot and no." You answered.

Quinn came into frame behind you, kissing you on your neck.

Jack and Luke's jaw drops. "No way!" "What the hell?"

"There are children present in this conversation, you guys are disgusting." Jack gestured to Luke who shoved him in response. "I'm 21!"

"Bye guys." Quinn hung up the phone.

"That was rude, you know." You looked back at him.

"I know, I just wanted to kiss you without them bickering." Quinn mumbles.

"And to think I was just crying over you not too long ago." You recalled.

"I'll make up for every tear you shed for my stupidity, I promise." Quinn's nose brushes yours.

"I know you will." You leaned in closer.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- when you ask them for an absurd amount of money as a prank

SCOUPS:

will transfer you the money, no questions asked. unless it's like an insane amount of money - like enough to buy a car - then he'd be concerned and ask why you need it. are you in trouble? are you being blackmailed? what can he do? he's ready to assist you in anyway possible and will be sulky when he finds out it's a prank. relieved, but a little sad that you'd even feel the need to test his loyalty to you.

JEONGHAN:

his immediate reaction is no. have you guys seen that interview where one of the members (i think it was dino? mingyu? my memory is so bad) said that jeonghan doesn't play when it comes to money and it lowkey stingy? yeah that. he'll definitely be hesitant and might even just flat out say no. extremely proud when you reveal it was a prank all along. i knew it was a prank, baby~ the student can't fool the teacher~

JOSHUA:

his immediately worried something terrible has happened. it's uncommon for you to ask him for money, usually its small enough sums that you don't even have to ask - you have his card anyways. stressed and annoyed when you tell him its all a prank. ai~ you know my weak heart cannot take you stressing me out.

JUN:

a little confused why you're asking him for money. he's the type to not catch on, you being in danger isn't the immediate thought when you ask him for 300 thousand dollars. will not react when you tell him it was a prank, the request for the money hasn't even properly computed in his head yet.

HOSHI:

he's going to complain he doesn't have that much money even though we all know he does. he'll agree to transfer it to you, but will whine and nag the whole time that this is his hard earned money! he loves you but why are you taking it away! another type to get sulky when you tell him its a prank and you don't actually need the money.

WONWOO:

ummm...why? he'll ask a shit ton of questions before agreeing, he needs to know why, when, what, where, who? all the details. this is his money after all, he needs to know where its all going. it gets to the point where you give up, just telling him its a prank cause his questioning isn't making it fun anymore. he tsks and asks if you have too much time on your hands to be pranking him.

WOOZI:

the money is in your bank account before you even finish asking. he's lowkey surprised you haven't asked sooner, he's always open with how much he's making and constantly tells you he'd just rather you guys have a joint bank account so he can spoil you. refuses to let you return the money once you admit its a prank. he makes more than enough anyways.

MINGHAO:

another one that's immediately worried. money's never been a topic you guys have ever talked about so he knows there must be something wrong. asks a boatload of questions trying to make sure you're okay and not getting scammed online or something. ends up just chiding you for even falling into a trap where you need that much money and narrows his eyes at you when you tell him its a prank. he thinks you're crazy and has too much time on your hands.

DK:

poor baby's scared. sure he makes a lot of money but he's never needed that much. eyes are popping out of his head when you tell him the sum of what you need. he agrees, of course, anything for you, but his hands are shaking as he reaches for his wallet. dramatically flops onto the floor when you tell him its a prank, begging you to never do that again - he might be rich but in his mind he's got like 5 cents in his bank account.

MINGYU:

blinks. pretends to think about it, but really he's been waiting for this day. the only possibility in his mind as to why you need the money is only for good things, and who is he to not spoil his baby? begs you to take his card anyways when you tell him its a prank. it's literally the only reason why i work, baby. just take my card.

SEUNGKWAN:

he's dramatic, screeching about how that's an insane amount of money and that he wouldn't even drop that kind of money on himself- and he loves himself very very much! calms down and genuinely sits your ass down to ask why you even need it. feels extremely betrayed when you tell him its a prank and vows to get revenge.

VERNON:

he sighs. he knows this trend and he's not having it. baby, you know i'd do anything for you right. you've got me like wrapped around your finger. you literally don't need to test my loyalty. apologizes when you get sulky over him already knowing the prank and offers to let you try again - this time he'll play along. ohmygod that's a lot of money are you being blackmailed? shopping in the black market? getting us a house in Bali? shrugs when you complain about his reaction being ingenuine and over the top. there is only so much he can do.

DINO:

his jaw is dropping at how large the sum is. yeah, he's got that money, and he'll show you his bank account just to prove it. but he'll start listing out what everything is for. that sum's set aside for our house, that one's to send our kids to school - we never said how many we'd have but i set aside enough to four university tuitions, and- you'll cut him off cause he's going to make you cry with how thoughtful he is. scolds him for ruining your prank. prank? he's confused. what do you mean prank? he got so invested in telling you everything he's saved up for your shared future he kinda forgot the original question.

[clini-calia]

It's tough. It is.

I'm a 30-year-old transgender man. From ages 16 to 23-ish, I was stuck in the alt-right pipeline, as well. I watched all that stupid bullshit with "feminists getting owned!!!1!" and what the fuck ever else. I think what pushed me towards it was how people on Tumblr used to be upset over EVERYTHING and would belittle me for my masculinity. I remember seeing a post that had a gif of a scene from some anime, I dunno which one, and it was of a naked girl laying down. People were complaining about her breasts not being realistic - it wasn't the size, it was that they weren't sagging or drooping, and that men need to be portrayed with rock hard dicks that never soften or whatever. But I was just sitting there thinking, "She's laying down... lol. Gravity is literally pushing her breasts against her chest, not pulling them down."

Anyway. Posts like that, but they got worse. I've had a lot of people on the left question my gender. "Why would you want to be a man? Women are the better choice." "I don't know why you'd want to do that, why give up your femininity?" I got into a small argument with a woman once on it, basically saying that it felt like trans men weren't really counted much and were largely ignored in the trans community, along with non binary people, who are usually just treated as "Women Lite." She got so angry that she told me, "You probably just wanna be a guy because you're too ugly to get one for yourself."

That's what tipped me over to the right for a bit. Until I realized they cared even less about me and that if given the chance, well. What happened on November 5th would happen, and they'd look for any excuse to strip me of my rights.

For cis, straight, white men it's not so easy to get out of. They're welcomed with open arms, there's no looming threat of having their rights taken away. So the pull of some "brotherhood" is more enticing. I was groomed and sexually assaulted by a man, but I was also sexually assaulted and groomed by a woman. I'll always believe that, no matter what, humans are just humans. White, black, gay, straight, trans, cis, man, woman - humans. And humans can be good, and they can also fucking suck. So I'll never say "all men are trash" or "all women are garbage" or anything like it ever again.

I see men's issues with mental health. I wish they would understand that it's the patriarchy that ultimately fuels those issues, and I wish some women would see how they also contribute to it. I see a lot of younger women these days placing men's entire values on their income, their careers, their appearances, what they can buy for them... I've seen a tweet of dudes just chilling and playing video games, showing off Pokemon cards or some shit and a woman quote retweeted it and said, "Men used to fight in wars. 🙄" Yeah. That'll stop toxic masculinity - tell men they're not real men unless they go to war and give up what makes them happy. Nice...

The patriarchy hurts women by enforcing the idea that they are to submit to men's wishes, stay at home, clean, cook, have babies. That's all women are allowed to experience.

The patriarchy hurts men by enforcing the idea that they are to overwork themselves, abandon any non traditional masculine interests and basic human emotions in favor of that work, and go to fight and possibly die in wars.

These ideals were put into place as soon as different tribes, races, countries and so on realized that, "Oh. There's OTHER types of people, and I want to be the most powerful and rich so they don't take what I have. Hmm. Better make sure women can only spit out plenty of babies and that plenty of those babies are men to be my soldiers and workforce."

If you're a man that supports any of those ideas, fuck you. If you're a woman that supports any of those ideas, fuck you, too. I'm sick and tired of generalizing people. I'm sick and tired of having to give up pieces of ourselves in order to put more money in billionaire's pockets. I'm sick and tired of men being told they're "too feminine" to be a man over being into stuff like sewing, baking, dolls, fashion, cozy games and I'm tired of seeing women being told they're "too masculine" to be a woman for being into coding, mechanical work, FPS games, science and I'm tired of seeing non binary people being told they're too much of one or the other to be non binary.

I'm tired of seeing men put down other men for having a fucking emotion other than anger or goddamn numbness. I'm tired of seeing women put down other women for being more attractive or not attractive enough. Just... stupid, petty bullshit that should have been over and done with decades ago, why the fuck are we STILL here?

It's tough. Because I love men and care deeply about men. But I also don't think we need to baby them and pat them on the back and say, "It's OK that you joined a fascist group of people that openly and proudly call themselves Nazis." And if a man ever tells me or any woman or AFAB person that it's "your body, my choice," I will grab the nearest blunt object I can get my hands on and beat the snot, shit, and blood out of them.

But I do think we need to work harder at not alienating our CIS, straight, white, male allies. We need to stop generalizing everybody and correct our language when talking about people. And we especially need to make it clear that the alt-right only seeks to divide for their own benefit, not for anyone else's. It's money and power that they want. Men, unless you are wealthy, you are just a vote and a pawn to them, nothing else. We need Democrats in the USA to stop rolling over and blowing kisses to Republicans in the hopes that they'll play nice and cut us some slack. It's not going to happen, not in meaningful numbers. And we NEED to crack down harder on alt-right online spaces. I don't give a fuck no more, get rid of that shit, I don't care if it's seen as too extreme or censorship, if you give these dangerous people a place to commune and feel safe with their harmful ideologies, then it WILL spill over into other spaces. And parents of young children: you need to BE BETTER at monitoring what your kids are seeing and doing online. Take it from someone who no-lifes online games: they are going into these spaces and saying heinous, horrible shit. They are being groomed, they are saying slurs and sexually harassing women, they are even seeking sexual attention and guidance from adults and strangers, and some of those adults are sick enough to take them up on their offers. One little trip into a few public instances of games like VRChat will be all the proof you need. I love the Internet, I really do, but I also see how its anonymity has done harm to us and has severely damaged how young people interact with each other, online and offline.

Anyway, sorry that was so long. I've been pissed the fuck off since I saw that Trump "won" the election and this shit has been on my mind for years, just even more so now.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[keikikait]

hiii can i request rafe or jj reacting to the reader getting nipple piercings??

ɢᴏᴅᴅᴇꜱꜱ (ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

read my other jj fic here!

pairing: jj maybank x pouge!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 2.9k 

summary: you get nipple piercings and your boyfriend is eager to get his hands on them

warnings: SMUT 18+, smut under the cut, nipple piercings, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, dom!jj & sub!reader, mention of p in v (although no protection is mentioned, it is implied), i've never gotten nipple piercings but i tried to be as accurate as possible, although i do know that touching them or kissing them after is a big no-go, this is a fanfiction lol.

a note: the skin colour in the photo isn't correlated with the reader's skin colour. i just like the picture! and, also, a BIG THANK YOU for 500 followers! i know in the grand scheme of things, 500 isn't a lot, but i never thought i would get this far! thank you all, i love you all so much!!!!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You pull away breathless, lifting your arms as JJ pulls your top off before tossing it aside. He pulls you into his lap, kissing down your neck as he unclips your bra, the black fabric joining the tank top discarded on the floor. JJ kisses down your neck, lips brushing over your collarbones as he slowly kisses down your sternum. You squirm in his lap, his hands roaming over your curves as you feel his cock pressing against you through his shorts. 

“Mmm, you're so soft,” JJ murmurs, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. His other hand cups one of your breasts, thumb teasing over the nipple. “You know what would really suit you, baby?” He brings his thumb and pointer finger together and squeezes, tugging at your nipple harshly.

You gasp, your back arching, your chest pressing against his. You whine as he pinches and squeezes again. “What, Jay?”

“Little piercings here,” He pinches your left nipple. “And here,” He pinches your right nipple, grinning at the way you squirm and wiggle. He leans in close, hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers, “Fuck, it’s making me hard just thinking about it. Two little bars, just begging to be played with,” His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, tracing over the sensitive skin of your lower belly. “I bet you'd look fucking stunning if they were gold. Or maybe silver. Fuck.”

“You know,” You breathe heavily as he tugs and twists your nipples again. “I’ve been thinking about getting some.”

“Oh yeah?” JJ chuckles, giving your nipples another sharp pinch before releasing them. His fingers continue their path south, slipping beneath the thin fabric of your panties to stroke over your slick folds. “I'm more than happy to help you pick out the perfect bar.” He rubs his thumb over your clit in slow circles, applying just enough pressure to make you shudder. “Because I gotta say, imagining your cute little nipples adorned with sparkly jewellery while I eat this sweet pussy... fuck, that's even hotter.”

“I’ll get them then,” You pant out in between moans. “Just for you, baby.”

JJ groans low in his throat, hips bucking up as he grinds his cock against you. “For me? Oh, pretty girl, you have no idea how much that turns me on,” He slips a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that makes your legs tremble, your back arching as a strangled whine escapes your lips. “But don't forget, these pretty tits are all mine too,” His free hand reaches up to pinch and squeeze your nipples. “I want to see those piercings, feel them against my tongue when I suck on your nipples,” He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you faster now, thumb still circling your clit. “Gonna make you cum so hard on my fingers, pretty girl. Then I'm gonna bend you over and fill this tight little cunt with my cock.”

You squeal as he picks you up and flips you over, pinning you underneath his weight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You kept your promise to JJ.

After researching and asking around Kildare, you found your piercing studio; Prickink just across the thoroughfare on the mainland. $175 for both the piercings and the jewellery. You would get simple silver bars for now, but they had the cutest pink heart nipple rings that you wanted for after they’re all healed. Only the best for JJ.

You push the door open, walking into Prickink, greeted by the buzz of tattoo guns and the smell of rubbing alcohol, 80s rock playing softly in the background. The receptionist smiles when she sees you approach the counter, holding your ID and a wad of cash. “Hi, welcome to Prickink! How can I help you?” She's decked out in tattoos, covering her arms and chest, with a cute nose ring with a bat charm on it and large gauged ears. “Piercing or tattoo?”

“Uh, piercing,” You say nervously. “I have an appointment today at 12:30 with Yvette.”

“Alright, lemme see here…” The receptionist types away on her computer. She confirms your name before taking your ID and checking it. “Nipple piercings?”

You nod. “Yeah. Kinda nervous, but it’ll be worth it.”

She hands you your ID back. “Nerves are normal, but everything will be alright. Yvette is one of the best in North Carolina,” She types on the computer before looking back at you. “Alright, it’ll be $175 including the jewellery. We can’t put in the heart rings until your piercings heal, but you’re welcome to take them home. Will it be cash or card?”

“Uhh, cash.” You say, pulling out $175. She takes the cash and recounts it, sliding a consent form over to you to fill out and sign. You check every necessary box and sign your name, handing it back to her.

“Alright. You can go and sit down, Yvette will come get ya when she’s ready.” She gestures over to the seating area where a few other people are waiting. Some have their phones out, some reading a magazine, and some were waiting as couples excited to get their matching tattoos.

You sit on one of the chairs, pulling out your phone and scrolling, trying to calm your nerves. It would hurt, yes, but everything would be okay. JJ would be more than happy to help you clean and take care of them. You wait for almost 10 minutes before Yvette rounds the corner, calling your name. You stand up and follow her through the hallway, shoving your shaky hands into the back pockets of your shorts. 

Yvette leads you through the tattoo shop, passing a few different rooms before arriving in the last one at the end, closing the door behind you. There’s a tattoo chair, a small stool, and a shelving unit built into the wall full of supplies. “Alright, take a seat. I’ll need you to remove your top and bra. You can set them on the stool right there.”

You take off your shirt and your bra, folding them and setting them aside on the stool before sitting down on the chair, leaning back against the seat. You clasp your hands in your lap.

She sits on the small stool at the end of the chair, putting on a pair of nitrile gloves. She grabs a thin black marker and holds it up to your chest, making a small dot at the centre of your left nipple, before marking the right as well. “Alright. Any questions before I get started?”

“How long is the healing process?” You ask. “I just… I have an eager boyfriend, ya know?”

She lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one plenty of times,” She puts the marker down. “Well, it’ll usually take about six to nine months for you to fully heal. It varies person to person, and a bit if it’s done right but a good guideline.”

You nod, leaning back in the chair. “Okay. Sounds good.”

She scoots forward slightly, the stool rolling smoothly on the wheels. “I’m going to start with the left one. Deep breaths, and try not to move too much.” You nod again as she wipes your nipple with an alcohol prep pad before pulling out a fresh needle, picking up the clamp with her free hand.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re feeling the cooling sensation of the pad, the next second you’re in unbearable pain. You keep still, gripping the armrests so tight your knuckles turn white. You let out a shaky breath as Yvette slides the bar in, twisting the ball bearing closed. “Alright, one down. You need a second?”

“Yeah,” You say breathlessly, your face growing hot. “Holy shit.”

She sets the needle down, giving you a pat on the knee. “Yeah, that’s the worst part. Nerves are in there and it’s super painful. Once I’ve got the second one in the painful part will be over, and you can just sit there and look cute.”

You laugh, even though you didn’t find it particularly funny. Yvette dabs up some of the blood as you shut your eyes, taking deep breaths. “Okay. I’m ready.”

You grip the armrest again and prepare for the second needle. This time it goes a lot smoother. One pinch of the clamp, a quick swipe of the prep pad, a slide of the needle and a twist of the bearing. “And, done,” She says. “How you feeling?”

“Good,” You say. “A little lightheaded. I got cookies in my bag though.”

Yvette smiles as she puts the clamps down. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one either. It’s perfectly normal. Let me just tape some gauze over them before you get dressed again. I would recommend leaving the bra off,” She gets up from the stool and heads to the storage cabinet, picking out two thin strips of gauze with some medical tape before returning to you. She places them over your nipples, then tapes down the edges. “Keep those on until tonight, then you can take them off to shower.”

You sigh. “Alright, cool. Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Now, make sure you don’t play with them while they’re still healing. You’re gonna want to,” She chuckles. “I would also avoid all swimming, even if it's in a pool. There are a lot of bacteria that you don’t want that getting into the piercing,” She hands you a business card from one of the shelves. “Call or come back if you have any questions about healing.”

“Sweet, thank you. Have a good day.” You say, pulling your shirt back over your head. You tuck your bra into your bag before heading out of the piercing studio. You pull out one of the cookies and munch on it while you head back to your car, a small smile on your lips.

JJ is going to love them.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You push JJ down to sit on the edge of his bed, running your fingers through his hair. “I got something I wanna show you, baby.”

He smirks, putting his hands on your hips as he sits, fingers dipping under the waistband of your leggings. He leans closer, the smell of your shampoo filling his nostrils, your hair still damp from your shower. “Oh yeah? What is it, pretty girl?”

“Did you wash your hands like I asked?” You ask, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders.

He shrugs nonchalantly, not bothering to remove his hands from your hips despite your question. “Yeah, yeah, course I did. Don't worry about it,” He reaches up to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him. “Now, show me what you've got for me.” You roll your eyes, moving your hands from his shoulders to grip the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your new piercings glitter in the lowlight of his room. 

JJ's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of your newly pierced nipples, his gaze fixated on the glinting metal, his cock hardening in his sweatpants. “Holy shit, pretty girl…” He trails a finger over the barbell piercing your left nipple, watching intently as it twitches with the movement. “Look at that. So fucking sexy,” He leans in, taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before switching to the other side to do the same. “Mmm, love the way it feels against my tongue, fuck you’re so fucking sexy,” He releases your nipple with a pop, looking up at you with a hungry grin. “Do you like having them played with?”

You let out such cute, soft little gasps as he rubs his thumbs over them. You nod, grabbing his biceps. “Yeah, Jay. I like it a lot.”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb around them slowly. “Good, baby, I’m glad. You look so fucking sexy, baby. Like a goddess,” He wraps his arms around your waist and spins around, throwing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you, pinning your hips down with his own. “When they’re all healed up, you should get those rings that have the connecting chain. Wanna tug on it and hear your sweet little whimpers.”

You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Only if you promise to play with them often,” You reach down, rubbing your fingers over his hard cock, feeling it strain against his shorts. “Got ‘em just for you, my love.”

JJ groans, hips thrusting into your touch as he grinds his hardness against your palm. “Fuck, you're killing me, baby. I'll play with them every damn day if you want,” He captures your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim yours. Breaking away, he pants, “Need you naked, now. Remember what I said last week? I wanna eat you out and watch how you look when you cum with your nipples all pierced.” 

With swift movements, he tugs your leggings down, sending them flying across the room. He yanks down your soaked panties, pocketing them for later. “Christ, you're dripping wet already,” JJ groans, spreading your thighs wide. He buries his face between your legs, lapping at your slit hungrily. “So fucking sweet…”

You squeal, back arching as your thighs clamp down on the sides of his face. Your hands immediately fly to his hair, gripping and tugging on the blond strands. “Fuck, JJ!” He moans loudly, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core as he laps at your clit, flicking his tongue rapidly over the sensitive nub. His hands grip your ass, kneading the flesh as he devours your pussy. He pulls back slightly, blowing cool air over your wet heat before diving back in, tongue delving deep to taste your arousal. It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, his favourite taste in the world. 

“Mmm, fuck, you taste amazing, baby,” His voice is mumbled as he sucks your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before releasing with a pop. “Gonna make you cum so hard, pretty girl. Wanna hear you whine and cry for me.” He resumes his relentless assault on your clit, fingers digging into your thighs as he eats you out like a man starved, one hand going up to tweak your right nipple.

Your jaw goes slack, and you throw your head back, thighs trembling against the sides of his face. “Fuck, JJ, please!”

JJ looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, saliva dripping down his chin as he continues to feast on your pussy. His eyes are drawn to the silver studs on your cute little nipples, and his cock throbs as he slides two fingers inside you, pumping them in time with his licks and sucks on your clit. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you need,” He murmurs against you, the words vibrating against your clit and making you shiver. His free hand moves to your left breast, rolling and pinching the nipple roughly. “Wanna hear you scream my name when you cum, wanna feel your little pussy gush, but you gotta ask for permission, baby.” He redoubles his efforts, sucking harder on your clit as he curls his fingers to hit that magic spot inside you. Your body starts to quake, toes curling, as your orgasm builds.

You gasp, trying to find your voice. “Fuck, please JJ, please let me cum! I’ve been good! Please!” You tug on his hair, back arching off of the bed.

JJ smirks against your pussy, blowing more air directly onto your clit. “Alright, alright, baby. You can cum, but only because you asked so nicely,” He sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue as he pumps his fingers fast and deep inside you. At the same moment, his hand moves back up to your right nipple, rolling the stud between his fingers and tugging.

The dual sensations send you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as your inner walls clench tightly around his fingers, pulsing with each wave of pleasure that crashes over you. JJ moans in satisfaction, continuing to lap at your spasming pussy, drinking in every drop of your release. Only when your tremors subside does he finally pull away, licking his lips clean of your juices. He gazes up at you, eyes shining with pride and desire. “That's my good girl. Fuck.”

You let out a strangled whimper as he kneels, pulling his shorts down before climbing over you. He pulls his hard cock out, fingers brushing over the tip to gather some pre-cum, spreading it out over his length as he jerks himself off. JJ grips his shaft firmly, stroking it in long, even motions as he hovers above you, his heavy balls slapping against your thigh with each pump. Pre-cum beads at the tip, leaking steadily as he gets closer to the edge.

His chest heaves with ragged breaths, abs clenched tight. “You're so fucking beautiful like this,” he rasps, his gaze roaming over your flushed skin, the glint of metal on your nipples, the messy hair around your face. “Can't wait to bury myself deep in this perfect cunt and fill it up. Fuck.” He leans over you, lining himself up before starting to push in, giving you time to adjust to his size. He pauses for a moment, savouring the feel of your hot, slick walls wrapped around him, before starting to move, one hand going to tug on your new piercings.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know if you want me to do this prompt with rafe!

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[daisymbin]

have you ever been in love? - choi seungcheol

warnings: none

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: friends to ???

wc: 900

check out my masterlist!

"have you ever been in love?" you ask, your eyes still fixated on the carefree clouds drifting lazily through the night sky, illuminated by the city lights.

seungcheol chuckles softly, the sound getting caught in the cool breeze that surrounds you both. he takes another sip of his beer, masking the way his heart races. how much more obvious could he be? are you really that oblivious?

"i suppose i have," he answers, his voice steady and calm even as his eyes can't help but trace the outline of your face, the way your features soften in the moonlight.

"what's it like?" you turn your head slightly, curiosity written in your expression. he's not sure how he should feel about your question.

seungcheol pauses, thinking about the feeling he’s harbored for you for so long. "it’s... terrifying and exhilarating at the same time," he says, a wistful smile playing at his lips. "it feels like wanting to be someone's everything, wanting to make them smile even when the world feels too heavy for myself. it’s being so scared of losing them that it’s all you think about. but at the same time, it makes everything brighter. love changes the way you see things, you know?"

you take a moment to process his words, letting them sink in, before you say quietly, “i guess..i dont know.”

“have you ever been in love?” he asks carefully, its a past tense question so it shouldnt hurt….right?

"i'm...not sure if i’ve ever been in love before.. but lately, i’ve started feeling things i’ve never felt before, and i wonder if it’s love. that's why im asking you.”

seungcheol’s heart stops, breaking a little at the thought of you loving someone else. his voice comes out smaller, almost vulnerable. "does what you’re feelin…m-match what i said?"

you think for a moment and then nod slowly. "yeah," you admit, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks.

his breath catches & he feels his stomach churning. this isn't a past tense situation, this is present tense, NOW. "who is it?" he asks as his voice trembles. the 4 years he's spent pinning over you seems to have made him timid tonight, he's not usually like this, but still, he braces himself for an answer that he knows will shatter him.

you hesitate, your eyes finding his, sparkling with adoration. "you," you whisper, your voice firm with sincerity.

seungcheol’s eyes widen, and for a moment, the world stills. and then, without thinking, he’s reaching for you, the biggest smile breaking out on his face. "me?" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it.

you nod, "you...you like me too right?"

"like?" seungcheol laughs, finding humour in your choice of words, his laugh holds a hint of disbelief, his eyes crinkling with pure joy. "like?" he repeats, his voice still colored with amusement. "i don't just like you," he confesses, his voice growing softer, more sincere. "i've been completely, ridiculously in love with you."

you feel your heart skip a beat, disbelief and hope swirling in your chest. "really?" you whisper, your voice small, almost afraid that this moment could shatter like a delicate glass figurine.

his gaze softens as he reaches for your hand, his warm fingers intertwining with yours. "really," he says, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"did you really not notice?" he asks, "i almost started to think you knew but just didnt have the heart to reject me."

your cheeks flushes as you think about all the little moments you'd noticed—the small ways he always seemed to look out for you, the way he'd remember the tiniest details about your life, and how his eyes would light up every time you entered a room. "i just... i always thought it was wishful thinking...like the time you carried extra snacks just because you knew i'd forget to eat, or when you'd always find an excuse to walk me home, even when you lived in the opposite direction. or how you’d get so quiet and protective whenever you thought someone was being unfair to me."

seungcheol's eyes widen with a mix of surprise and endearment, a fond smile spreading across his lips. "so you noticed all that?" he asks, his voice warm with a hint of embarrassment.

"i did," you say, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "but it just seemed too good to be true."

he pulls you a little closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mixture of adoration and relief. "it wasn’t too good to be true," he whispers, and then, with the most tender of touches, he leans in.

when his lips meet yours, it's everything and more. it's gentle, sweet, and filled with all the love that has been building between you two, unspoken but always there, waiting for the right moment.

when you finally pull away, you're both breathless, cheeks flushed. seungcheol's smile is still there, brighter than ever.

[welcometohellfilm]

Congrats to everyone who has been working on W2H2! 🎉 If it's alright, I'd like to ask to ask 2 questions:

Is there by chance an official ref of colors for Debbie, or is it still up to interpretation at the moment?

Would you say that your personal, real life experiences within the 10 years moving from W2H to W2H2 shifted the tone/story of the series in some way? Something that I've always been fascinated with when I started looking more into W2H was the shift in Sock's character from the original comic -> first film -> second film, and Jonathan's character from the first film -> second film.

Thank you! ✨

I actually just made some 'official'-ish colors for Debbie! Her voice actor Kaitlyn wanted something to use on a banner for conventions haha... so here you go!

2. I'm not really sure how to answer this one, haha. I mean I've definitely changed as a person over the course of making each iteration of W2H. I started the comic while I was at community college, before I went to art school. I adapted it into an animation for my graduation project. And I started W2H2 a couple years after I graduated college. So there's a good 2-3 years between each attempt at W2H I've done, haha. I think a lot of my original ideas from the comic had to change because it needed to be condensed into a short film. I didn't even GET to Jonathan yet in the comic! Some things just didn't make sense to me anymore, like the idea of Sock already having a human body count. It'd just be absurd for him to be able to hide it for so long! Plus, if I made it so that Sock has only ever entertained the idea of murder, it makes his new job that much more appealing-- it's a chance for him to really lean in to this thing he's always had to hide. Between the first and second films though, I mean... I think there's been some tonal shift, for sure (I don't know about a character shift? We'll get to that haha) But basically, when I was first thinking about W2H2, my idea was "Sock and Jonathan hang out and attempt to figure out touch physics, also there's some drama about a journal Jonathan keeps." All of the hell stuff is something that came from bouncing ideas around with my friends, Michael and Neil. I was worried that sending Jonathan to hell would be too bonkers for a "2nd episode", but we all kinda agreed that enough time had passed that the fans would probably enjoy something higher stakes, so it would be fine. (I'll give everyone a moment to realize this conversation would've been happening in 2015-16... ha.)

We also kind of thought, y'know... I have no idea how many more of these there's even gonna' be, so why not go a little bigger with this one? W2H2 is a higher stakes story than what I set out to make in the beginning, that's for sure. It is interesting to compare all of them.. the employee handbook was actually from the comic and I cut that because it wasn't helpful for W2H... but then it became helpful for W2H2, so it came back! Haha. I'm curious to know in what ways people think the characters have changed though. (And is that a good thing or a bad thing?) Especially a character like Jonathan, no one's really even seen that much of him yet, I think most of the characterization comes from fandom, or like... art I've drawn, I guess? Haha... I'm not sure! I guess Sock's a little more confident and antagonistic in this one (though he'll have his moments of hesitation... we're only at Part 1 right now!), and Jonathan has had to become a more vocal/active character, just by nature of the kind of story it is, I suppose. But yeah, I'm not sure! Happy to hear your guys' thoughts though!

[tumbleweedtech]

There are a variety of other bookmarking websites and browser options that allow you to privately collate bookmarks with notes. The option is there for you to use this Ao3 feature that way (by marking it Private). But what baffles me is people behave shocked when the reason they keep saying they write nasty bookmarks is to "warn" other readers. (cruel, unkind ones. I'm not talking about "untagged X" that's just a heads up to other readers, or notations like chapter count, or a reminder of the story "the one with the goat". I mean ones they're putting in bookmarks because they're too cowardly to put it in comments where they know they'll get deleted/blocked.) If you are warning the general public that Author writes what you consider OOC Blorbo who had the audacity to bottom for other OOC Blorbo.... Why is it beyond your scope of comprehension that writers would read this as well? Writers are in the same fandom. They read the same fics. They enjoy the same parts of fandom as you. I have blocked Ao3 accounts simply for writing something nasty on someone else's work. You behave like that elsewhere? Suffer the consequences. You may never notice, but I can rest easy knowing I'll never have to interact with someone so entitled. And that's really what it is, entitlement. Readers forgetting that Authors are also a part of the fandom community, not just slathering content machines who pump out wank material for the void to consume silently, cruelly, and with often not even a passing kudo to acknowledge the time and effort spent on writing. So yeah. I think that "it's ours to do what we want with" is kinda bullshit, when i'm specifically talking about unkindness that's *permanently attached and publicly visible*. You don't have to slather praise, just. Don't be a dick.

Been hearing this is a problem again. Don't be a dick in bookmarks, folks. And yes while I made this image, I'm giving free reign. Take it. Spread it far and wide. Because I'm hearing that some readers don't know that their bookmarks are visible.

[the-dormant-ocean]

Dean gets hexed causing him to have no inhibitions. It brings to light his obsession with Sam and it gets weird really fast.

Sam wakes up in the middle of the night and almost dies of a heart attack. Dean is in his room, sitting on his bed and lovingly watching him sleep. "It’s just me, Sammy. Go back to sleep. " "No! What is wrong with you???"

Sam is back from his run and tells Dean he's going to take a shower. "I'm coming with." "Coming with me where???" "To the shower." "You're also going to take a shower?" "Yeah, with you. Are you alright?" "With me???? You want to shower together???" "Yeah, why?" "WHY???"

They are reminiscing about the past, and suddenly, Dean brings up a surgery Sam had to get after he got hurt during a hunt. "Some stranger had his hands inside you and fastened your bones in place with metal rods! I never got to do that! I've reset bones at best and it still drives me insane to this day! It's just not fair!" Sam just stares at him, weirded the fuck out, because how the fuck are you jealous of a surgeon who was just doing his job???

Dean is just drinking beer, and suddenly, he just starts saying the wildest shit like it's absolutely normal. "You know I've always wanted you to mouth-to-mouth feed me bee-" "STOP! PLEASE I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" " Here, come in this jar so I can use your load as creamer in my coffee as a substi-" "DEAN WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Sam's voicemails to Rowena are escalating in urgency because shit he knew that Dean was way more codependent than him but he did not know it was this bad. After the hex is lifted, Dean barely leaves his room for a week because he's dying of embarrassment. How is Dean supposed to explain away the things he said to his brother?

[sturnioloszn]

ICE BOUND (3) - M.S

summary; while sneaking around with the team captain, you both lose track of time and get caught in the very act you tried so hard to keep a secret.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex (pls wrap the willy), semi-blowjob?, dirty talk, praising, arguing, getting caught.

a/n; this is gonna be kinda long, but it is the last part of this "mini series", idek if this counts as a series lmfao, it's just multiple oneshots from the same storyline? idk, either way; i hope you enjoy it. 💙

P1, P2

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

Matt and I have been together for just over 4 months, and it's been everything and more. He's insanely thoughtful and caring, which is hard to believe considering the reputation hockey guys get.

Apart from the fact that Matt literally worships the ground I step on, he always makes sure I feel loved in ALL departments. If I was sad, dick. If I was angry, dick. If I was horny, dick. And I have to admit, he must be magic because it works every. single. time.

A notification pings on my phone, snapping me out of my daydreams; I know exactly who the text is from. I quickly unlocked my phone to reply to Matt's message.

He was driving over to my house right now even though he had practice. He made up some shitty excuse to my dad about how he "caught a cold" and therefore couldn't make it, but it was all a lie just to see me. It was sweet that he'd skip practice to be with me, but I wish he still went, I know how much hockey means to him.

A few moments later, I heard a knock at my front door, I catapulted myself down the stairs to go open it. I'm met with Matt's sweet smile, and it leaves me in awe. I throw myself into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, and he pulls me into him tighter.

He rests his chin on top of my head, sinking into the hug. He was wearing a black, 'ransom' hoodie and sweats, which contrasted with his pale skin and eyes.

I'm sure he wasn't impressed with my outift, I was in one of his hoodies and plaid pyjama pants; but I wouldn't be wearing anything in a few minutes, so it didn't really matter.

He breaks away from the hug, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. "How's my pretty girl?" He asks, letting the nickname he made for me roll off his tongue.

"Good, missed you, though," I reply, letting him into the house and shutting the door behind us. We move up to my bedroom, and we both pretend like we don't know what's about to happen.

"So what'd 'coach' say about you missing practice," I ask, falling back onto my bed and pulling him on with me; he climbs between my legs so that we are face to face.

"He told me to get better soon, said he couldn't practice without his 'star player'," he smirks, leaning down to invite me into a warm kiss. His lips moving against mine is the personification of heaven, and it makes my heart flutter each time they touch.

He continues to softly abuse my lips, licking and biting at them while soft whimpers involuntarily escape my lips. He then moves away from my lips and dips his head down to the crook of my neck, where he continues his work.

I tilt my head backwards into the mattress to grant him more access as I reach down between our bodies and gently grab hold of his bulge, which has formed in his sweats. A low groan flees his lips when I start palming him softly through the material.

"You feel that, baby? It's all yours," He breathes out, struggling to continue the work on my neck. I smile and bring him back to my lips so that I can keep feeling him, but it's not long before he breaks our contact again to speak, "I need your lips wrapped around me so bad,"

"Yeah?" I taunt, sitting up, causing him to also sit up. I slide off the bed and land on my knees in front of him while he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. I look up at him through my lashes as I grab hold of the waistband of his sweats.

He places his hands over mine and helps push them down to his mid-thigh. I examine the view in front of me, his large cock straining against his boxers, so much that there's a little wet patch on his boxers.

"Do I make you wet, baby?" I tease, grabbing hold of his cock still in his underwear. He leans his head back, giving me a view of his adam apple as he thickly swallows.

"You make me so wet," he agrees, his voice so low that by breathing too hard, you'd miss it. I finally pull his boxers down to where his sweats are and his cock springs free.

I spit into my hand before wrapping it around his base and slowly pumping it a few times until beads of pre-cum form at his tip. I lean down and lick him clean before bringing his tip into my mouth completely. I suck on his swollen head, releasing it only to swirl my tongue around it.

"Fuck- just like that," he mutters, tangling one of his calloused hands into my hair. Just as I'm about to place his dick back into my mouth, my bedroom door flings open.

"DAD?!" I shriek, quickly pulling away from Matt, jumping to my feet. Matt hurriedly pulls his boxers and sweats up, also jumping to his feet.

The door semi-closes after he realises what is going on, but he still stands behind it. "WHAT THE FUCK!" He yells. He's obviously livid. At this point, my face is painted red, and Matt also has blush covering his cheeks and nose.

"ARE YOU DECENT?!" He continues to yell. Oh God. How did I not even hear the front door open? And why is he back already? Did practice already finish?

"Yes," we both mutter in unison, lowering our gaze as he walks back in. I fiddle with a loose thread on my hoodie, trying to ignore the glares being thrown at us.

"Does anyone care to explain what is going on?" He asks more calmly but still very furious. I don't bother looking up, indicating Matt to speak.

"I'm sorry, coach," Matt apologises, his eyes glued to the ground. You could almost hear Matt's heart beating out from his chest, except that mine was much louder.

"I'm sorry? That's all you have to say to say after lying to me so that you could skip practice and sneak around with my daughter?!" He says, becoming more angry again, his voice bouncing off the walls.

We stood there in silence as my father's gaze tore us apart. I've never felt so humiliated in my entire life.

"Matthew, get out of my house, and you are never to see each other again, understood?" He speaks firmly.

"Dad, that's not fair!" I argue back, finally meeting his gaze. He couldn't decide who I could and couldn't see.

"I'm not arguing with you. He is leaving immediately and not coming back. He should count himself lucky he isn't already kicked from the team," He says, looking over at Matt.

Matt swallows, "I'm sorry, coach, bye y/n," he says, walking out of my room. Now that he is gone, the air is much denser, and the silence grew louder. My dad stood in front of me, not uttering a sound because the look on his face was speaking a million words.

"I'm so disappointed in you. You're going to stay in your room and think about your actions," he says, moving to also leave my room. As he grabs the door handle to close it, he mutters, "and you are to stay away from him," before closing the door shut.

The second the door closes, I hunt for my phone to shoot Matt a text. I tell him not to worry and that I'll try to explain the situation later, but he says that it won't change anything.

I feel horrible for dragging him into this mess. I single-handedly ruined hockey for him now, or at least hockey with my father.

A few hours have passed now, and my phone receives a notification. I open it to see a message from Matt. I don't have time to even read what it says before I hear a knock at my window.

I jump from the unexpected noise, and I look to see Matt crouched outside my window. I quickly go open the window to let him in.

"What are you doing here?!" I shout whispered at him, not wanting my father downstairs to hear me speaking to someone.

"Did y'really think I was gonna stay away from my pretty girl? Especially with blue balls," he laughs, bringing me into a quick kiss. I smile into the kiss, finding this all too amusing. Our kiss very quickly becomes deeper and more passionate with his hands raking up and down my body.

"Do you want to?" He asks, clearly referring to sex. I nod at his question, and he walks me backwards into my bed, making me fall onto it. While moving his lips deliberately against mine, he slips both of us out of our clothes until we're left in just our underwear.

He places gentle kisses all over my body, his hands gripping my hips, keeping me firmly in place as I squirm.

"Is the door locked this time?" He asks, looking up towards my bedroom door, I shake my head.

"Go close it, sweetheart," he encourages, pulling away from me. I stand up and go lock my bedroom door, trying to be gentle so that my father doesn't hear a thing. As I spin back around, I see Matt leaning against the headboard with his boxers pulled down and his hands firmly stroking his cock.

I timidly walk back to him and stand at his side, "c'mere, baby," he hushes, patting his thighs. I pull my shorts and soaked panties down at the same time before climbing over him to place my legs on either side of him. He rests both of his hands on my hips as I now comfortably straddle him.

He moves his middle finger to play with my folds, "shit, you're so wet. Is this all for me, hm?" he asks, slowly collecting the wetness that had formed. I nod my head and rut my hips on his hand, seeking even more treasure. "You're so impatient," he chuckles before removing his hand and bringing his finger to my lips so that I could suck it clean.

He then roughly grabs hold of me with one hand and uses the other to line his cock up with my entrance. He gives me a small tap to indicate that he's ready when I am, and I slowly sink down into his cock.

"Fuck, Matt," I moan, taking him fully, and he's already so deep. His head is slung backwards, resting against the headboard as I begin to rock my hips; I grab onto his shoulders for the minimal support they offer.

My movements become rougher and more ragged, causing the bed to creak slightly under our movements. He grabs onto my hips tighter, forcing me to move slower even though I wanted the opposite.

"Shhh, we have to be quiet, baby. Can't let your dad hear you riding me so good," he groans, his eyebrows furrowing but nevertheless fighting to keep eye contact with me.

I moan as a response and start bouncing on him instead. He notices my tits bouncing up and down in my top and lifts it up to get a better look. He brings both hands up to squeeze and play with them as I keep moving up and down but this only brings me closer to the edge.

"Matt...I'm gonna...come," I say, my movements becoming much more unsteady. My legs are becoming weaker, and I'm unable to keep up the pace. I then feel him move his hands back to my hips.

"Let me finish the job, pretty girl, you've done so good," he praises, gripping my hips intensely, forcing me to still but instantly replacing my movement by thrusting his hips up. He continuously rams into me, abusing my g-spot. I feel the heat in my lower stomach become unbearable, and I can't control it anymore.

"Fuck-I'm coming...fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant throwing my head back and grinding my hips to fuck him back. I feel his cock twitch, indicating that he's also close. I clench my pussy around him, encouraging him to shoot his cum deep into me.

"OH FUCK- baby, yes, just like that, you feel so good," he babbles, slowing his thrusts, fucking his cum into me. I collapse onto his chest, moulding our sweaty bodies into one. I'm panting heavily, trying to slow my breathing, and I feel Matt's heart beating roughly against my skin.

I finally have the strength to disconnect our bodies and look at him, "thank you, that was amazing," I smile.

"Thank YOU, you have no idea how much pain I was in," he smiles back. I give him a small peck on his lips before sliding off from him and onto my mattress. "Let me clean you up, pretty girl," he says, walking to get some tissue to clean his cum that is dripping out of my pussy and the remains of it from his dick.

He then laid back in bed with me but told me he had to leave soon because he didn't want to risk being caught by my dad again. I understood and didn't blame him; it was incredibly embarrassing the first time. We did not need a repeat.

Before I knew it, Matt was climbing back out of my window to leave. It made me sad that he couldn't stay longer, but I knew it was for the better right now.

As the night went on, I became more infuriated with the fact that my dad thinks he can control who I can see, well he can't. I finally reached breaking point, and I stormed downstairs to give him a piece of my mind.

"Why did you kick Matt out before?" I ask, trying to keep my cool. I stare at my dad, whose eyesight doesn't even wander from the hockey match playing on the tv in front of him.

"Because," he answered shortly. What kind of answer was that?? He can't just say 'because', who does he think he is?

"Because what?" I push further.

"Because he's on my hockey team, and I don't even know why you have boys in your room anyway. You're not allowed," he says, his eyes never leaving the tv.

"I'm nineteen, I'm not a little girl anymore," I say, already becoming upset with his answer. He can't treat me like a baby forever.

"You are a little girl. You don't understand boys and what they really want," he says, keeping his eyes firm on the tv. I can't believe this right now. How gullible and stupid does he think I am? I feel myself becoming more worked up over this than I probably should.

"I do understand because I'm not stupid, and I'm old enough to make my own decisions," I speak, becoming louder.

"No, you don't. Boys only want one thing, and that's to get in your pants," he says, his eyes finally meeting mine.

"Not Matt, he doesn't care about that. He cares about me," I say, swallowing harshly.

"Is that really what you think? God, you have a lot to learn," he scoffs.

"Yes, I do think that because Matt and I have been dating for over 4 months, and he's shown nothing but love for me. I'm sorry you and mom didn't work out, but that's not my fault. I'm gonna build my own relationships, and you can't do anything about it because they aren't your decisions to make. And if it bothers you that much, I'll move out!" I yell without thinking.

My mini rant made him fall silent, with nothing left to say he's just staring at me. Regret starts to seep into my thoughts. I shouldn't have brought up mom or threatened to move out.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," he says calmly, getting up from the couch and turning the tv off. I'm left frozen in place as I watch him walk to his room. I messed up.

I eventually find the willpower to walk back up to my room, and I can't help but let tears fall. I was curled up on my bed, thinking about everything. I wondered how my relationship with Matt was going to change and how Matt's relationship with his coach was going to change, and for some reason I even thought of mom, even though I hadn't seen her in years.

I let these thoughts infiltrate my mind until I feel my puffy eyelids become heavy. I wipe the remaining tears from my cheeks and pull the blanket closer. I fell asleep to the thought of Matt holding me closer, comforting me.

-

I'm woken by the sun beating down on my face through my gap in my curtains. I slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes so that they can adjust to the sunlight in the room.

As I walk downstairs, I see someone sitting at the kitchen table. Walking closer, I see that it's...Matt?

Before I have the chance to question him, my dad walks over. All three of us now in the kitchen.

"Y/n sit down," my dad says, reading my very confused expression. I pull out the chair next to Matt, giving him a small smile, which he reciprocates.

"I've been thinking, and you're right. You are old enough to make your own decisions, and I'm sorry for the way I reacted," he speaks, his voice laced with sincerity. "But you'll always be my little girl," he adds, his eyes watering slightly.

By now, my own tears are falling. "I'm sorry too," I sob, standing from my seat and going to hug him; he embraces me warmly.

As we break away from the hug, we turn to look at Matt, who is still sitting down, now smiling.

"I can't stop you guys from being together, but I'm not ready for grandkids yet, so please just-" he pleads, being cut off by Matt.

"Neither are we, sir, don't worry," Matt chuckles. My dad gives him a nod, walking out of the room; I walk over to Matt, wrapping my arms around him.

He tries to bring my lips to his, but I quickly pull away, "nope, I still have morning breath," I laugh.

He shakes his head and roughly pulls me to him, connecting our lips. I give him a quick kiss before pulling away again.

"I love you," I whisper, looking into his eyes, scared that I'd drown in them and never be found again.

"I love you more," he says, matching my tone.

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, being lost in each other's eyes. And I pondered on the thought 'what would have happened if I never accompanied my dad to that practice session?'

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; that's a wrappp. i hope you guys enjoyed this, and thank you so much for all the support on my posts. 1.2k notes on JEALOUS and 300 followers??? that's insane, but I'm so so thankful for all everything. i love you all <33.

Taglist; @idrk2292 @aalixsturns @aalicats87 @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut

[lastoneout]

As someone who is on a mood stabilizer(lamotrigine, in fact) what's happening to the people in these screenshots is not what happens to the average person who has hobbies and fandom-adjacent interests. My meds have never stopped me from loving with my whole chest, instead they simply give me the ability to balance my intense love of things with my real life wants and needs in a healthier way. They give me the ability to stop playing Minecraft before I give myself a migraine, or stop thinking about my OTP long enough that I can make a phone call and actually focus during it, that sort of thing. I don't stop having hyperfixations, I just am able to have one and also have a functional life too.

But these people were clearly missing something important in their lives that's place was filled by a truly unhealthy obsession(or like. had mold poisoning. that person is an outlier dw). They use the word hyperfixation but like, I don't think that's really what's going on. This isn't a bog standard hyperfixation on like Hero Academia or WWDITS, these were obsessions with real living celebrities, and fandoms for celebrities tend to take a dive into conspiratorial thinking and vague cult-y behavior REAL fast. Like, I mean, you can be a fan of a celebrity or band and be normal about it ofc, but I see the conspiratorial thinking pop up a lot more and faster in fandoms for real people. Genuinely combing over every single thing Taylor Swift has ever done or said 500 billion times to compile a dissertation on how she's been subliminally telling her fans for years now that's she's gay and attacking everyone who says otherwise because they don't get it and are just homophobes and like, fucking stalking and threatening her ex-boyfriends and spending every spare moment of every day posting about it with other people who are doing the same....that's not healthy. That's not a normal special interest or hyperfixation. That's clearly someone who is missing something crucial in their lives, be it connection with other people or stable brain chemistry or a community, and filling that hole with something similar but extremely dysfunctional shared with a community of people who are also unhealthily obsessed and thus promote and encourage unhealthy fixations and conspiratorial thinking at the expense of every single part of the rest of their lives. This is on the same level as like, someone's grandma who has always kinda been convinced Elvis' death was faked and in 2016 accidentally fell down the Q Anon rabbit hole, not someone who thinks about their blorbos holding hands before they fall asleep at night and is begging for someone to ask them about the tv show they're from so they can info-dump.

And like yeah fandoms can get you like that too, I've gotten too deep before and fallen in with conspiratorial thinking(almost always around ships tbh) and whenever I get out I feel pretty ashamed of letting that free dopamine and validation roller coaster make me act like someone I'm not, and ofc some fans will stalk and harass the people behind their favorite show or movie for ship validation or write up massive conspiracy boards about how "xyz ship is def endgame trust us see we connected the dots and we will destroy the lives of anyone who disagrees including the people who make the damn show" like I was at Phoenix Comic Con the year Andrew Hussie got mobbed(but not in the mob!! thankfully I didn't get caught up in all that!!), I know how fandoms can be, but overall what's happening in these images isn't something the average fan needs to worry about. If you aren't writing conspiracy boards about celebrities sexualities or an OTP and harassing the celebrities/creators about it, sending death threats to real people who disagree with your theory or like other ships, and spending every spare second of every day posting and talking about them to the point that you literally, physically, don't have time or energy for anything else then you don't need to worry about meds making you not like your favorite webcomic as much anymore. What these people are going through is framed through the lens of fandom, but was far closer to going to a Flat Earth Convention in terms of actual behavior and outcomes.

Your meds shouldn't make you stop liking things entirely. When I think about not liking things I genuinely loved as much as I used to I get a little sad because I miss them, when I think about getting riled up because I believed a show runner was specifically trying to spite ME I feel embarrassed, and I'm glad I stopped doing it and moved on to things that actually make me happy and aren't borderline conspiracy theories. That's the difference. These people aren't sad, they are straight up happy to be out, talking about how it's wild to look at the insane things they believed, and putting focus on how their lives are better now. They clearly don't miss these things because they've moved on. Or, in the case of the BTS person and probably the swifties, they still do like the artist or actor or band, they just aren't Obsessed(tm) with them to a truly unhealthy, world-view altering degree anymore. They can still love these artists and actors without that obsessive love taking over their entire lives.

So nah. The average fan does not need to worry about meds doing this to you. These people were outliers in unhealthy situations that improved when they got the things they were missing. That's almost certainly not what's going to happen to you.

(But also yeah even if you do find your interests changing, that's not always a bad thing. Interests change, we find new things to love all the time, it doesn't invalidate the joy we found and friendships we made to recognize that now we want to post about a different show or movie or comic. That's just how life is, we change.)

And if you don't like the way meds make you feel, you can tell your doctor and stop taking them. There are some meds out there that make me into a zombie that no longer cared about anything at all. And so I stopped taking them, told my doctor, and we worked something else out. Don't be afraid of change, but also, if it sucks hit the bricks.