#<-when was the last time I had to use that tag?

[notjustjavierpena]

(Mid)summer Loving

Main Masterpost

A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season. 

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare. 

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling. 

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him. 

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left. 

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same. 

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background. 

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you. 

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him. 

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now. 

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable. 

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?” 

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.” 

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him. 

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants. 

You. 

He wants you. 

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible? 

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social. 

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment. 

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know. 

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too. 

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again. 

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side. 

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt. 

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?” 

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in. 

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over. 

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high. 

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you. 

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound. 

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so. 

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?” 

“No?” Your reply is almost a question. 

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you. 

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time. 

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees. 

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation. 

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight. 

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

.

.

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[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope 4/5

Okaaaay, so there's 5 parts instead of 4! I realized that the last part was over 6k words, so we're splitting it into two! The last part will still be posted next Friday, so this will keep us on track!

Summary: The picnic has an uninvited guest that you're uniquely suited to greet.

-------

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone able to catch Marie,” the Lord says, brows raised. His golden eyes track Isla across the garden and he whistles when she jumps to tag his former knight. “That was not within the capabilities of a Villager.”

Ivan scans the crowd around them. Most of the townsfolk are too far away to eavesdrop and the ones close enough to potentially hear are engaged in their own conversations. “Careful, Brennan. If the Director hears you speculate…”

“Yes, the Director,” Lord Brennan sighs. He brings his teacup to his lips, but doesn’t drink. He contemplates Director Sarah where she crouches with a glass of water near Annie. “You know this is the first time we’ve met?”

It’d been a fight to get Sarah to agree to today at all. Ivan chooses his words carefully. “Your predecessor did not have the sort of…kind interest you do.”

The former Lord’s interest Sarah shared with them was a lot more horrifying. There’s a reason that Isla at only fifteen years old is the eldest at the orphanage.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lord Brennan agrees. He settles back into his seat and sighs in satisfaction. He watches the children gradually grow tired of their game and drift towards the dessert table. He grins when the townsfolk naturally make room for them, a few of them even fetching treats from the center of the table for the littler ones. “See my people together? It was very good of me to lure you and Marie to my territory.”

“You gave us a castle,” Ivan says. They weren’t so much lured as bludgeoned with generosity. Some days it feels like they blinked and ended up standing amongst fine silk and filigree.

“It’s a manor as far as paperwork goes,” Lord Brennan says.

“It has buttresses.”

“A very fortified manor.” Lord Brennan finally sips his tea and sighs again. “This tea is from our fields, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“It’s delicious.” The full canopies of the trees enveloping the estate rustle in the wind. The sun shines warmly overhead. Lord Brennan takes another drink. Delicious. “The land’s come a long way since we ousted my father, hasn’t it? Plentiful harvests, an established trade route, a new school. If it weren’t for the demons, my work would be done.”

“I would prefer you had no work then,” Ivan says dryly.

“Me too.” Lord Brennan sets his tea aside and rubs his eyes. “Any updates?”

“None,” Ivan admits, frustration leaking through his words. His face is still amiable and the disconnect between his tone and his visage is jarring. “We investigated the wolf tracks in the woods and only found carnage. No signs of the demons themselves.”

“So they are demons?”

“Regular wolves wouldn’t be able to evade a squadron of your knights, my lord.”

“Neither would demon wolves,” Lord Brennan says. He rubs his chin, brow furrowing. “I don’t like what that implies. Any sign of larger foes?”

Ivan doesn’t want to discuss this here. Marie’s eyes are on him, sensing his rising distress. He smiles and waves to her. “Besides the horned rabbit migration?”

“Is it a migration?”

“Isla saw five within the first four weeks of summer,” Ivan says.

The Lord’s attention falls on the teenager. She’s patiently letting one of the other children – Hera? The one who’d curtsied to him like a little noble – weave flowers into her braid. He tries to imagine her fighting a horned rabbit and his lips thin. “I’ll call for reinforcements from the capital.”

“Marie and I can—”

Lord Brennan waves Ivan off. “No, no, I’ve asked too much of you already. Aren’t the two of you too busy in your retirement already? I thought you’d be settled with a child by now.”

“It’s not good to rush these things,” Ivan says as he has the last three times Lord Brennan has asked. This time it’s Ivan who sighs. “It took Marie and I a good few months to win Director Sarah over after our misstep.”

“Asking about Destinies, was it?”

“Implying we’d value any child less for not being a knight like us,” Ivan corrects.

“There seem to be a lot of unusual Destinies in the orphanage,” Lord Brennan says. He’s not an Identifier but he’s got a good eye. Though no one can know for sure until a child either develops their mark or comes into their power at fifteen, he’s seen more than a few signs of a Scholar, a Guardian, and a Teacher. Once again he finds his gaze being drawn back to Isla. She’s got a child under each arm and is running from Marie again, the game having resumed after their snack break. “That one is a Guard, at least. Nobody else would have physical abilities like that.”

Ivan ignores the Lord’s comment. “It’s been worthwhile getting to know them all.” His smile turns a little more genuine. “They’re all good kids.”

“Surely you and Marie have an inkling of who’ll be a good fit?” When Ivan doesn’t reply, the Lord clicks his tongue. “You can’t choose all of them.”

Ivan’s voice is a study in nonchalance. “Can’t we?”

Lord Brennan opens his mouth only for no words to come out. At length, he has to laugh. His knights do like to keep busy. “You’d need a castle.”

“You did give us one, my lord.”

“I suppose I did.”

The two men lapse into a pleasant silence. It is good to see the townsfolk this cheerful. This town is the furthest from Lord Brennan’s own castle and he rarely has a chance to visit. The first time he had had been very different. The people still bore the wounds of winter in gouged cheeks and brittle smiles. Now he sees the glow of health everywhere he looks.

He contemplates the Director once again. She’d been the only one back then to not seem pleased to see him ride in on his white horse. Even now he can feel the chill of her scrutiny as she stood defensively between him and the orphanage. None of that chill is present today. Her smile is as sweet as his tea while she tends to a scrape the little Scholar sustained in this round of tag. “Ms. Sarah is very pretty, isn’t she?”

“I know we can’t adopt them all,” Ivan blurts out. He doesn’t seem to have heard Lord Brennan. His gaze is turned towards his own inner conflict which is why he also doesn’t notice the blush dusting the Lord’s cheeks. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. Marie and I decided to adopt a child who would benefit from what little we can offer. Military arts and luck.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” Lord Brennan says with raised brows. “You and Marie offer a lot more than a Knight’s experience. Haven’t you shown that already in your actions?” He’s not aware of everything his former knights have done, but he’s heard plenty from the children today. He didn’t think Marie had the patience to teach anyone how to read.

Ivan’s hands fist. “It’s not enough, it’s not—the little boy. Josiah. He’s so smart. I don’t even know where to start with him and even Marie says that he’ll soon outpace her—”

“Well,” Lord Brennan says, “Neither of you are Teachers, true, but there is a school for that--”

“And Annie wants to know why bread rises and why the sun sets and how many seconds are in a day—”

“All kids are curious—”

“Hera staged a whole theater production for my birthday and all we could do was clap—”

Is he missing something? “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“We don’t know any actors or directors to introduce her to!” Ivan cries out. He quickly lowers his voice, but can’t hide the stress around his eyes. “What could we give to a child like her? Like any of them?  Marie and I are out of our depth. It would be so much simpler if one was a Knight!”

The Lord tentatively offers, “If Isla’s a Guard--?”

Ivan gives a cry of distress that he barely capture in the palm of his hand. “Isla! That girl feels like my daughter already, but…she’s been through so much. She doesn’t need a father who teaches her how to fight or a mother who teaches her how to withstand a siege! She deserves to never have to fight again. What could we offer her? What could we possibly give to her she hasn’t already learned on her own?”

A light goes on in the Lord’s head. He takes in the festivities with new eyes. The town’s Baker, Blacksmith, Teacher… His friends have invited every possible parent they could in hopes of providing for the children in ways they felt incapable of doing themselves. As noble as that was…“Ivan, being a parent goes beyond the skills you can give a child. It’s more than fostering talent or an offering an apprenticeship. It’s—”

A horse’s scream drowns out the Lord’s next words.

Ivan is in front of Lord Brennan with his sword drawn before the horses and their blood-splattered riders even round the side of the castle.

-----.

 You throw Annie and Josiah behind you the moment you hear the sound of hooves galloping towards the manor.

“Isla, what—” Josiah starts to ask and then cuts himself off as the innkeepers and their entourage burst into the party.

You smell blood before your eyes register the terrible red staining their fine clothing.

“ORCS!” Mr. Innkeeper screams over the frightened snorts of his horse. He stumbles down from his mount and staggers towards the Lord. “They overtook our carriage—please, my wife, she’s hurt—”

Mrs. Inkeeper is holding her side and seemingly barely holding onto the saddle horn. “Our guards won’t be enough to hold them off—”

“Inside,” Sarah hisses into your ear. She points after Hera who’s already shepherding the younger kids into the building. “Now.”

“—an army—”

“—fast—”

“—waiting for us—”

You move faster than you’ve allowed yourself since you arrived. This is no time to take care in hiding your abilities; there are roars coming from the forest unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Your senses seem to dial up with your heartrate and you can hear the clash of steel against rock and flesh. You scoop Annie into your arms and leap after Josiah and Sarah.

Mr. Dallen’s face is pale as he ushers you all into the manor. He holds the door open for the townsfolk. The hall fills with the sounds of panic and sobs as fear washes through you like a tidal wave. There have never been orcs south of the mountains, there have never been demons bigger than a horned rabbit in the last twenty years, even when the Winter froze the river—

Mr. Dallen waves down Marie as she sprints to the large doorway. You think that he’s going to pull her inside to safety, but instead he thrusts her bow into her outstretched hands.

“Do not open these doors,” she commands. Behind her the knights are assembling into a formation, their Lord at the center. Ivan stands before them all, barking orders to ready their spears as the trees in front of them begin to sway. Marie pulls a dagger from under her skirts and slices the bottom half of her dress clean off. She kicks it away from her feet as she talks. “Take everyone to the basement—”

“Ma’am, the escape tunnel still isn’t cleared of debris—”

Marie swears so violently that half the townsfolk gasp. She grabs Mr. Dallen by the shoulder, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her husband. “Then we will draw them away. The moment you think you can, run to the wagon. Get the children to—” She bites her lip. You can see the devastating truth flash through her mind. There isn’t anywhere to go. “Damnit. Bar the door and arm everyone you can.”

Mr. Dallen’s lips are bloodless as he nods. “My lady.”

Marie turns to everyone. Her voice is unlike anything you’ve heard come from her lips; it’s harsh and barking. A commander giving orders much like Ivan is doing outside. “Listen, everyone. We are in danger. Our best estimate is that 25 orcs are marching on the manor. There is no guarantee of survival. The moment this door is breached, it will mean the knights have failed. You must be prepared to fight. Do you understand?”

Twenty-five? Your hands ball into fists and your breath catches in your throat. You’ve heard of entire villages being wiped out by three.

“Then we’ll fight with the knights,” the Baker says. He pushes away from the center of the group and marches to the wall. He pulls down the crossed axes, keeps one, tosses the other to the Blacksmith. She catches it easily. “You’ll need everyone who can hold a weapon.”

Marie never voices her protest. You can see the strain of holding it back in her tense shoulders and her poignant silence. At long last, she nods. “You’re right. Stay behind the knights. They know how to handle the frontline better than you.”

There’s a flurry after that. The townsfolk divide in half. Those unable to fight slide back as those who can start scavenging for weapons. Mr. Dallen grimly pulls two long daggers from under his coat while pointing your neighbors to decorative swords, to ornamental spears, to the heavy coatrack just inside the parlor.

Grimly, you stride past Sarah, ignoring her hiss and darting hands. You can leave the weapons to the villagers, there’s a large knife on the dessert table you can use—

Marie slams a hand against your chest. You stagger back at the weight of the blow, breath knocked from your lungs. You’re more stunned than hurt as you gape at her.

“Children stay here,” Marie says. Her eyes narrow. “No exceptions.”

“But I’m—”

“We don’t have time to argue!” She pushes you further back, clearing the doorway for the armed villagers to run outside towards the knights. “You’re strong Isla, but this isn’t your fight. Stay here. Guard the door.”

The winter wind howls in your mind. You splutter. “But I—”

Marie spins away from you. “Director Sarah.”

Sarah’s arms slide around your shoulders. “Yes, lady.”

 The closing of the door feels like a blow in itself. You stare sightlessly at the unyielding wood as your emotions rage. How could she? You’re strong, you can do more, you can help, you’re the one who kept everyone from starving—

“We need to barricade the windows,” Director Sarah is saying to the townsfolk. Half of them gaze at her uncomprehendingly. Her hands slide from your shoulders slowly, as if testing that you aren’t going to leap outside. When you don’t move, she lets go entirely. “Isla, move the furniture. Hera and Josiah, find something to tie it down with.”

You move on autopilot. There are other hands alongside yours as you push the sofa and armchairs in front of the windows, the townsfolk coming together to defend the manor. Hera darts between you all and pulls the curtains closed, reclaiming the curtain ties to use as rope. She’s got a grim determination in her eyes that looks uncomfortably familiar.

Your attention is on the noise outside. The orcs are slow, but loud. The roars change to squeals and bellows of challenge. Branches break and there’s a terrifying, splintering crash as a tree falls. Metal rings as the knights raise their shields. You can see it all in your mind’s eye, the knights in a defensive line across the length of the garden, the Lord securely in their center. Ivan is shouting about this being what they’ve trained for, that there are more of them than there are orcs, that this city won’t fall—

And the Lord is speaking too, quickly and quietly to Marie. The escape tunnel? Damnit, I should have sent more men—

It will be fine, Marie says. Her bow sings as she holds it ready and you know the way her muscles flex and her eyes narrow from experience. We won’t let a single one of those monsters past us. We won’t--

The knights bellow alongside the orcs. Your heart leaps and your focus is jarred. You’re standing in front of the door again, your hands balled at your sides. Everyone can hear the battle now and the townsfolk scream when the orcs’ battle cries shake the manor.

“Quiet!” Is that your voice? It is. Your eyes slide to the frightened faces behind you. “You’ll distract the knights.”

Sarah steps up alongside you. “And let the orcs know exactly where we are.”

The villagers quiet into aborted whimpers and muffled sobs.

The battle rages, louder and louder. Are orcs big? They sound big. When you close your eyes you can hear the way their feet pummel the earth. Do they have weapons? Metal clashes. A knight screams that their hides are too thick. The Lord shouts back to aim for their eyes. A table splinters, a bow sings, there’s a liquid gasp—

BOOM!

You slam your hands against the door, muscles straining as another blow lands against it. The wood convulses under your hands and the lock creaks. The villagers scream.

“No,” someone whispers. “No, they found us.”

You’re eight and the snow spirits are howling for blood. Your shoulders ache with the effort to hold the door against the wind. The cold is biting at your fingertips and there is an old hope dying in your chest--

Small hands slam against the door next to yours. Hera is snarling and swearing, Josiah is crying. Sarah is telling the kids not to worry, Isla and Hera and Josiah won’t let them in –

They’re here. You’re not alone.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The orc’s bellow isn’t nearly as loud as Ivan’s roar.

The blow you’re bracing for never comes. Ivan goads the orc to follow him, to leave the manor alone, to eat the man readily available to him—

It does not sound like the knights are winning now.

“My Lord!” Marie’s voice is strained.

“Do not fall back, they’ll corner us—”

“Who is that? Who is—”

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

----------------

Thanks for reading! If you'd like read the last part of Isla a week early, please consider supporting me on Patreon(X)!

[bby-deerling]

Hc about the boys Law, Zoro and Kid catching you using a sextoy 😎😉🥰🙏

based request :D using this to get me back into the groove of writing smut after a brief break

catching you with your sex toy (nsfw)

ft. zoro, kid, law

masterlist

cw: sex toys, sanji being sanji, masturbation, rough sex, brat taming, snail phone sex

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @sanjisprincesswifey @fanaticsnail @indydonuts

zoro

the last thing you expect when you enter your room is to find zoro there with your clit sucker in hand, but now that you've stumbled upon the sight, you're rendered speechless as you slam the door and lock it, trying to cobble together something to say to him.

"the cook said you had something interesting in your drawer. i thought he was just stealing your panties again, but i found whatever the hell this thing is instead." he says as he stares at it, brows knitted in confusion.

a flash of anger flows through you rapidly at the knowledge that sanji was rifling through your drawer again, but you feel a sense of relief knowing that zoro seemingly doesn't know what your toy is.

and then he shatters any sense of the comfort that you were regaining with a single sentence.

"do i not make you feel good enough?" he asks, though it seems to come more so from a place of curiosity than one of insecurity.

flustered, you shake your head with fervor. "i've had that for a long time, like since before i even joined the crew. i haven't used it in forever—" you say with a blush, though your words are cut off as he presses the button to turn it on and gives you a smirk.

"tell you what, i'm gonna make you cum with this thing, and then with my mouth, and you tell me which feels better." he says, tilting his head to urge you towards the bed.

though the toy gets you off quicker, zoro isn't surprised when you tell him his tongue feels far better when he unravels you. after all, he knows your body like the back of his hand, and all that training he does with his mouth has the added bonus of paying off during moments like these.

kid

you feel like you've been caught with your hand in a cookie jar when kid walks into his room and finds you grinding against the vibrating saddle he's made you, your cheeks flushed and lips parted in ecstasy. the laugh he gives you is full of mirth, but you know you're in for it now, severely.

"you think you're too good to obey the rules, huh, princess?" he asks with a toothy smirk as he approaches, flicking the switch on your toy to turn the vibration off. "you know you're only allowed to use your toys with me."

turning as bright red as his hair, you swallow hard as you collect your words; you were already in for a punishment, so you figured you might as well up the ante and bruise his ego a bit—after all, it'd be a win for you in the end as he takes his frustration out on your sloppy, wet pussy. "if you weren't so busy all the time, i wouldn't have to get myself off." you shoot back, holding your chin high to try to convey some form of confidence as he towers over you. with ease, he grabs you by the waist and tosses you face first into the mattress, harshly grabbing at your hips and pulling them towards him.

"you're gonna take this cock so hard you're not gonna be able to even think about your stupid toys for a couple weeks." he growls as he sheathes himself inside of you. normally the friction would have burned, but you were so wet from grinding against the saddle that his thick length slides right in with ease, making you yelp as he fills you to the brim.

"i'm gonna fuck you stupid, you fucking brat." he grumbles under his breath as he slams into you, the fingers on his metal hand vibrating against your clit as you squirm in his grasp.

law

though the rest of your crew is having a bonfire outside, you can't help but hide away in the polar tang for a little while. you've missed law so terribly over these past couple of months, and your own scent has overpowered his in your shared room; however, law's office is the one place where his presence still lingers.

and it's pathetic, the way you use your rabbit toy with your face buried into the throw pillow on his couch, the blanket over top of you poorly simulating the warmth of his chest against your back. you're so unbearably close as you daydream about his hands kneading at the flesh of your hips, letting out a soft whine until the sound of the snail phone ringing sends shock and adrenaline coursing through your body. turning your toy off, you keep it inside of you as you wrap the blanket around you and sit in law's chair before picking up the receiver.

"hello?" you ask, your voice soft and hesitant as you hope you're not met with a marine's voice on the other end.

"hey. it's me. i'm calling from the thousand sunny." law replies, making your heart and stomach flip with delight and relief with the confirmation that he's okay.

"thank god—when will you be back?" you ask excitedly, spinning around in the chair with glee.

"in around three days or so. are the others around?" law says, a bit confused as to why he hadn't heard bepo crying tears of joy through the receiver yet.

"they're all outside having a cookout." you inform him, smoothing your hair out as you stare at the snail, unable to hide your smile; it felt like a hallucination, hearing his deep, raspy voice after being apart for so long.

"how come you're not with them?" he asks with a bit of concern, though he picks up on exactly what your needy body was up to when you reply to him.

"i was, but i came back to the submarine to... take care of something." you say with a blush, hoping the snail on the other end failed to mimic the blatantly guilty expression on your face.

law's chuckle through the phone tells he's picked up on what you've been doing, and you take a sharp inhale as he teases you. "tch, you really miss me that much?" he asks, the lips of his snail curling into a devilish smirk. "let's hear it then. don't hold back." he murmurs as you hear a door slam and lock behind him.

obediently, you turn your toy back on and whimper softly as his low voice tells you all the filthy things he plans to do to you the second you two are alone together.

[russellsppttemplates]

We don't know anything about girls! (Oscar Piastri)

Lucas and Jack take the job of protecting their sister very seriously

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece, and this time it's dad!Oscar 🥹✨️🤍

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is pregnant, childbirth, postpartum

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Daddy, we have a question for you", Lucas said as he and Jack sat at the table, ready to have lunch.

"Sure, what is it you want to ask me?", Oscar offered as he served up their plates with some broccoli, pasta and salmon.

"Mummy is the one that had us, right? We were both on her tummy - not at the same time though - and then she had us", Lucas wondered.

"Yes, mummy was the one that grew you in her tummy", Oscar smiled as he remembered both of your pregnancies. He knew it wasn't comfortable all the time, and there were many instances where you didn't feel so good, but he would spend the whole time in awe at you and what your body was doing for your family.

"Okay, so we have to talk to mummy", Jack reasoned with Lucas, who nodded back at him.

"Why do you need mummy, was my answer not enough?", Oscar wondered.

"It was enough, daddy, don't worry! But if we want a baby brother or sister, we have to talk to mummy first", Lucas stated as if he was saying they were going to ask you to change their bedroom curtains.

"You want a sibling?", Oscar questioned them both, wondering if they had been eavesdropping on you and him.

When one of Oscar's sisters had her baby a couple of months ago, you and Oscar both felt like adding another one to your flock, discussing it in bed that night. It wouldn't be so bad, especially now that both your and Oscar's careers were settled and your schedules were far more predictable. The boys seemed to think the same.

"Yes, do you think mummy will like the idea? She always said her feet hurt a little when it was towards the end", Lucas tsked, "and you, daddy? Would you like to have a another baby?", he wondered.

"Yes, I would - I'll tell you what, when mummy gets home from work, we can ask her about it, okay?", Oscar suggested, seeing the boys agree before eating the food in their plates, smiling to himself at the possibility of your growing family.

By the time you got home, you were just about to catch Oscar putting the boys down for the night, "night night, boys, I hope you have sweet dreams", you kissed both of their foreheads.

"We need to talk to you tomorrow, mummy, we have something to ask you", Lucas offered.

"Okay, it can wait until tomorrow, buddy - sleep tight!", you combed his hair with your fingers.

Closing the door behind you, you walked up to your bedroom, starting to get rid of your work clothes, "Osc? Can you help me with these buttons, please? I can't even lift my arms", you groaned, "I'm so tired".

Your heard your husband's feet pad out of the ensuite bathroom and approach you, his fingers undoing the buttons at the nape of your neck so you could take the shirt off.

"There you go, love", he offered, leaving a kiss in there.

"Thank you - both for this and for doing the nightime routine with the boys, I'm sorry I couldn't be home earlier, but the last lady had this nasty contracture that wouldn't go anywhere no matter how much I pulled and worked every trick of the book", you sighed as you grabbed your pyjamas from under your pillow so you could put them on.

"Don't worry - it was all fine", Oscar assured, "you did miss the quesion they wany to ask you tomorrow though".

"Is it something for school?", you wondered, getting up from the bed with only one leg of your pyjama pants on.

"No, it's not - you can't do anything about it, not now anyway", your husband chuckled as he watched you quirk your eyebrow.

"Do I want to know what it is about? You're scaring me a little", you mused.

"The boys want to ask you for a little brother or sister", Oscar stated, "they checked with me to know if you were the point person they should go to".

"Because I'm the only one?", you giggled, adjusting the sleeves on your shirt so you could wash your face and brush your teeth.

"You grew them in your tummy, and Lucas remembered how much your feet hurt so they want to know if you would be comfortable with having another one", Oscar offered, getting in the bed and pulling the comforter up to his waist.

"You're saying that as if it only takes me to make a baby", you spoke after spitting the toothpaste on the sink, wiping your mouth on the towell to get rid of the remnants.

"They said it like that, not me - but to be fair, they did ask if I would like to have another baby", he added.

Rubbing the cream on your cheeks, you walked back to the bedroom area, turning the light off with your elbow before you sat down next to Oscar, "it's cute, though, that they don't want to just go and ask for a sibling because they understand it's not like that", you said as you snapped your fingers.

"Would you? We talked about it a while ago, but then you had the check-ups and the doctor advised us to not go for it yet until we knew for sure you were all good", Oscar mused, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers on his lap.

"Yes, I think I would. We know I'm all good and all my parts are working just fine, so I'm in if you are", you replied back.

"I'm in too, I miss having a little baby and the sight of you carrying our baby", he smirked, "and the process of making a baby is very fun".

"Oscar!", you swatted his chest.

"We're always telling the boys they should always tell the truth - was I supposed to lie?", he defended himself.

.

"Don't fall asleep, Jack, okay?", you said as you noticed your son nearly falling asleep on his car seat, "we're almost home, love!".

"I wasn't falling asleep", he admitted, blushing at having been caught with his eyes closed and his cheek on his shoulder.

"I know you weren't, but I just wanted to check anyway", you winked through the rearview mirror, playing along with him.

On the days Lucas had violin practice, Oscar was the one to take him there from school and then back home, which meant you only had to pick Jack up from pre-school before going home, which also allowed each of the boys to have one on one time with you.

Encouraging Jack to stick to his routine, you watched him hang his jacket and leave his shoes on the wardrobe by the door before he took hi backpack to the kitchen so he could empty the snack box.

"Are you not feeling better, mummy?", Jack asked you as he walked inside the kitchen, noticing the bag from the pharmacy on the counter, "did the doctor give you medicine to take?".

"I'm feeling so and so, but the doctor at the pharmacy told me something else", you crouched down so you could be at the same level as your son, "can you keep a secret?".

Jack nodded eagerly, showing you his ear so you could only tell him the secret before he realise you two were alone, "Oh, we don't need to whisper, and this way you won't tickle my ear", he admitted with a blush, "tell me, mummy!".

"Mummy hasn't been feeling well, and when I spoke to the doctor at the pharmacy, she seemed to think that maybe I have a baby in my tummy", you smiled, "I need to take a test to know for sure".

"A baby? The one me and Lucas asked you and daddy for?", he beamed.

"Yes, that one - should I take the tests now?", you grabbed the boxes from the bag.

"Yes, mummy, yes! How do you do it?", he wondered.

"Mummy needs to go to the bathroom", you tapped his nose, "I'll open the door as soon as I'm done, okay?", you offered before stepping inside the service bathroom by the stairs.

"Are you okay, mummy? Do you want help?", Jack asked as you could hear him walk along the corridor.

"I'm nearly done, Jack, just need to clean a little mess up I did here", you offered, doing what you needed to do and complying with all the instructions.

"It's okay, mummy, I also make a mess sometimes and you always tell me that as long as I clean up after myself, it's okay", he comforted you.

Giggling to yourself at his words, you washed your hands again before opening the door, revealing Jack waiting for you.

"When do we know?", your son asked as he looked at the plastic tests by the sink.

"In a few minutes", you answered.

"Will you be sad if it says you're just sick?", Jack muttered.

"Well, you and Lucas asked for a sibling some time ago and it would be nice if it was actually the case, right?", you tested the waters, now wondering if it was the right move to tell Jack what you were doing. You felt like you could deal with the negative result should it be the one to come up, but maybe your little boy wouldn't.

"I really want a baby brother or sister, and I know Lucas also wants one a lot, but we can wait", he offered, almost sounding like a grown up while he grabbed your hand.

Once the timer on your watch beeped, you turned the tests around checking for their validity before looking at the result.

"Are you pregnant or are you sick, mummy?", Jack questioned, looking at the tests on your hands, "what does it mean?".

"This means I'm pregnant, Jack", you smiled before setting the tests down once he jumped on your arms.

"I'm going to be a big brother!", he squealed, hugging you tightly.

"You are, buddy - are you excited?", you mused.

"I am! I can't wait to tell daddy and Lucas!", Jack smiled back at you.

Setting him back down on the floor, you grabbed the tests, "we could surprise them with something funny - what do you think?", you suggested, heading with him to the playroom so you could get started on it.

Oscar and Lucas arrived just as you were finishing the last touches of the surprise, calling your names.

"We're upstairs in the playroom!", you called back before turning to Jack, "you have to wait for Lucas or daddy to read your t-shirt, okay?".

Lucas was the first to get to the room, coming up to you to hug you and kiss your cheek, "and the teacher said I did really well!".

"That's amazing, buddy!", you congratulated after he told you all about his day.

"Hello, guys!", Oscar greeted, and judging by the bottle of water on his hands, he has stopped by the kitchen before he joined you, "how was your day?", kissing Jack's cheek.

"We didn't do anything special - it was like every day that mummy picked me up while Lucas was at his lessons", Jack told in a nonchalant way, earning a wondering expression on your husband's face as he looked you.

You shrugged your shoulders and kissed Oscar's lips, letting him press his lips on your forehead right after.

"Do you feel better? You don't look so bad anymore", he reasoned as he rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Geez, thank you, Oscar", you chuckled, "but I feel good now", you smiled.

Lucas looked intrigued as he looked at Jack, "why does his t-shirt say he has an expiring date? What's an expiring date, daddy?", he asked as he pointed.

"I'm no longer the little one!", Jack yelled excitedly, leaving Oscar and Lucas a little lost.

"We know you're grown up, buddy - It's when something is not good anymore or when it has an end date...", Oscar offered.

"No, daddy, you're not getting it! I'm no longer the little brother of the family because mummy has one inside her tummy!", he clarified.

Lucas gasped before he ran to you, hugging your legs and resting his cheek on your tummy, "is it true?".

"Yes, love - we're going to have another baby in the family!", you smiled, brushing his hair with your fingers before you felt Jack hug your side.

"I guess there's only me left then", Oscar gestured, hugging you from your back and resting his hands on your tummy, "we're having another baby, Y/N, I love you", he kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly.

Once Jack pulled away, Oscar finally got a proper glimpse of the t-shirt that stated the announcement, reading at the "Little brother: expiring date in some months!" t-shirt the little boy wore.

"Did you do this just now? Since when do you know?", Oscar mused, now finally getting ti hug you properly since the boys had let you go.

"Mummy took the tests when he got home, and then we came here to cut the print and iron letters", Jack offered.

"Yes, not long, I'm not sure it has settled in yet", you mumbled, "another little one, Osc, I love you", you kissed his lips.

.

"Boys, remember what we told you, okay? People are healing and resting, so we have to be quiet and be on our best behaviour, okay?", you checked with them as they got out of the car.

"We will, mummy", Lucas assured you while he held his hand with Jack's, keeping him close as he held Oscar's hand with the other one.

You registered yourself in and then were led to the right exam room, following the orders to lay on the bed and lift your top.

"The bump is bigger, isn't it?", Jack asked as his curious hands touched your skin, stroking it and taking the opportunity to leave a few kisses there.

"It is, little one is growing very well!", Oscar offered.

A knock on the door alerted you to it, seeing the technician step inside the room, "Good morning! How is everyone feeling today?", she asked.

"Hello! We're here to see if we're getting a baby sister or a baby brother!", Lucas offered as he swung his legs on the chair.

"That's right! Are you ready, Y/N?", she asked you with a rub on your shoulder before pulling the kart with the ultrasound machine and laptop with her and sitting on the stool next to your bed.

"Yes, very ready and very excited", you smiled.

"Which one do you think they are, baby brother or baby sister?", the technician asked your boys while squeezing the gel on your tummy.

"Come here, sit on daddy's leg instead of mummy's lap so we can see the baby on the screen there", Oscar explained to Jack.

"I don't know, we're both boys, what is that thing that nana always says? It's like there's always a third", Lucas tapped Oscar's arm as he sat next to them.

"Nana always says that there isn't a second without a third", Oscar clarified, "usually means that when there is a second one, there's always a third one".

"So you think it's a boy?", the technician hummed, moving the wand around, "well, your mummy will still be outnumbered by you guys, but she'll have a little friend to help her! You're having a babygirl!", she smiled, showing you the screen.

"A baby sister?", Jack looked at the screen, "wow, she's so tiny - is that her nose?", he pointed.

"Yes, that's her nose, then these are her legs - they look really strong!", she showed him while Oscar winked at you with a big smile on his face.

"Woah", Lucas mused as he looked at the screen, "how long until she comes out of mummy's belly?".

"That is still many weeks away, Lucas - she needs to stay inside to grow healthy and happy!", the technician explained as she wiped the gel from your belly, "I just sent the scans to the printer down the hall - if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to get them".

After she closed the door behind her, the boys jumped on the bed, hugging your sat up body.

"Can you believe we're having a little girl? A mini you?", Oscar stated as he followed your kids, standing up in front of you so he could kiss your lips.

"These two look like you - I deserve a mini me", you giggled, "Oh My Goodness, a little Piastri girl".

"Uh oh", Lucas said, making you look for any issue or trouble.

"What is it, Lucas?", you wondered.

"We don't know anything about girls!!", he said in a concerned tone.

"We're both boys!", Jack followed in agreement.

"You know Tilly and Lottie pretty well, it's not like you haven't been around girls", Oscar reasoned, not wanting them to feel dismissed as you tried your best to contain your laughter.

"We have to ask Fraser the next time we are all at a race - he definitely knows what to do!", Lucas pointed out.

.

"At least she's comfy - one of us is, anyway", you sighed as Oscar's hands helped you settle in a better position on the examination bed.

"I know we've discussed this with you before, so you probably know that this is the time we talked about. Little one is fully developed now, and she seems like a big girl from our calculations and scans, so I think that now, more than ever you should really think about inducing", your doctor stated.

With Lucas and Jack, the birth was pretty straight forward. The waters broke at home, you went to the hospital when the contractions were closer together and after some pushes, you were happily holding your baby boys.

Your baby girl seemed to have other ideas.

"We wanted to wait for her in her timing, but we understand that that option is no longer viable", Oscar nodded. The team had gone over your exams and they all agreed that induction was looking like the best option so both you and baby Piastri could be happy, safe and healthy.

Squeezing your hand in his, Oscar gave you a reassuring look before you spoke, "we've talked about it, but at the end of the day what matters is that we are both okay, so we'll do the induction. When can we do it?", you asked.

"Well, since it's early and you've only had breakfast, if you go up now, we can settle you in and start the process while your husband gets your things from home if you'd like - your baby is in a good position and we don't foresee any issues to a vaginal delivery", she smiled soflty as she signed a few papers, before handing them to you to sign too.

"Might as well get this show on the road, hm?", you looked at Oscar, "I'll call my parents to let them know".

"Okay, sweetheart", Oscar said before he kissed your forehead, "I'll meet you upstairs, okay? And you, little miss, don't show up before I'm back, okay?", he left a kiss on your baby bump.

"I think it's established that she isn't in any sort of rush", you chuckled, kissing his lips one last time before you parted ways.

While Oscar went home to grab the hospital bags you had prepared, you went up to the labour ward with your midwife Lisa, who happened to be on shift that day.

Checking you in your room, she helped you get comfortable before starting the induction process, "like we talked about, for some women this is a quick process and for some it is a long one. Any way this goes, though, we are all here to help you", she smiled soflty.

Someone knocked on the door, making Lisa look at all the supplies she had and checking if anything was missing until she noticed it was Oscar.

"Hi Lisa, how are you?", he greeted her with a hug before he came to check on you, leaving the bags in their designated area.

"Hello! I'm good, excited to help your little girl come into the world", Lisa smiled.

"And you, my love, are you doing okay?", he asked, looking at the monitor on your bump.

"I'm good, so far so good, and better now that you're here", you pointed a finger on his chest as he approached you.

Chuckling, Oscar kissed your forehead before sitting in the room you made for him, mindful of all the wires connected to you, "did everything get sorted out with your parents?".

"Yes, they'll pick the boys up and look after them - dad told me not to worry about anyone else but me and little princess", you smiled. In the last two births, the first person your father looked for when he stepped into the room was you, claiming that he looked for the person that was already there from before and that he needed to know his daughter was okay.

"I can't believe that this is happening soon, that we're going to have our baby girl in our arms", he said as he did his best to rub your bump despite the wires and monitors that were ensuring you were both doing well.

"Seems like it was yesterday that I was taking a test with Jack on the other side of the door asking me if I needed help", you giggled, "but I'm very excited to have our baby and see who she takes after - I may be too hopeful, but I have a feeling that she might look a little bit more like me", you snickered, "I did all the hard work for nine months and a bit - three times now! I think it's about time this baby comes out looking a little more Y/L/N-y and a little less Piastri-y".

"My genetics have proved to be quite strong, if we are being honest, but I'm also hoping for a little you", Oscar offered as he felt your tightening taut skin under his hand, "was that a contraction?", he said looking at you.

"I think this is the water breaking, do you remember that prickle feeling I told you about in Lucas'? It's like that - oh!", you gasped, "there it goes".

Oscar helped you get up from the bed so you could dry yourself before removing the disposable liner Lisa had laid down for that purpose.

Helping you change into the hospital gown, your husband called the midwife like she had asked you to do, "the waters have broken already? This is good news, means everything is going like it's supposed to, especially ", she said when she looked at the graphs for the CTG machine, checking your vitals too before she left the room again once everything was fine.

When contractions started picking up, Oscar was quick to tend to your every need, walking with you when you felt like movement would do you good before you settled in swaying your hips, your back against his chest while you almost danced around the room, "this is like that time Lando made us dance at the McLaren party", you muttered in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"We're much better now, I think - and you look even more beautiful", he mused, kissing the top of your head.

"Oh, there's another one", you said as you felt the tension on your bump, making you stop and somehow turn around before it got too bad, the new position allowing you to face Oscar as your arm stretched around his neck, your hands lacing at the nape of his neck so you could drop your hips to relieve the pressure from the intense feeling on your torso as you waited for it to pass, your husband's kisses and words of encouragement doing a good job at distracting you from it.

"Do you feel comfortable here or do you want to move to the bed, love? I don't want you to tire yourself more than you are", he expressed his concern as he held you.

"Can I stay here? I like being on your hold and standing up helps, I think", you looked for his approval as you felt his arms ease some of your weight on his neck.

Oscar nodded his head as he kept swaying you around, "Of course, I'm here for you, whatever you need I'll help", he prompted as your neck stretched slightly so you could kiss his jaw, mumbling an I love you to him before concentrating on your breathing again.

Knocking on the door, Lisa excused herself inside and asked how you were doing before checking your dilation, "You're doing really well, Y/N, you're 6 centimetres dilated already! This is going quite quickly I must say", she said and you smiled.

Oscar placed a proud kiss on your forehead while you heard Lisa tell you what to expect in the next few hours, "Do you want an epidural?", she asked.

"I think I'm doing fine without it, but I'll call if it gets too bad", you replied before she nodded and left to tend to the other birthing patients.

Hours later, Oscar had now turned to apply pressure on your lower back with his hands when it started getting a bit harder for you, your elbows on the mattress as you rocked your hips side to side, the interval between contractions now so short you barely had time to rest between them, "I feel like I need to push, my body is telling me to push", you said to Lisa and the nurse that were checking you.

"Why don't you sit on the bed so we can see how things are progressing?", one of them offered as your husband helped you lay down, his hand never leaving yours, "You're crowing, Y/N! It's time to meet your baby!", Lisa announced as she got in position.

"All good, Y/N? I know it hurts, but I also know you have got this", your husband whispered as he positioned himself so he could be right by your side.

"Y/N, when you feel the urge to push, do it okay?", the health professional urged you as you nodded, "your babygirl is ready to come out and everything looks good for her!".

Holding Oscar's hand and squeezing it, you cried and grunted slightly, hearing Lisa announce that the head was out and you needed to do a big push for the shoulders, "this could be a good sign for mini me - my mum always said I had a big head", you groaned.

"C'mon, Y/N, big push", the nurse encouraged as you felt Oscar's lips by your ear, "I know you can do this darling, just two more pushes and our baby girl is here", he said and you did what your body told you, pushing and breathing until your baby was out in the world.

Sitting back against the pillows, the nurses lifted the little girl and after a few taps on her pink cheek, she let out a high pitch scream both you and Oscar were sure to remember for the rest of your lives.

"She's here, Y/N, congratulations mummy and daddy", Lisa said as she placed the baby on your chest.

The baby girl your's and Oscar's love, along with the one from your family, produced was finally here. Pushing your gown to the side, you uncovered your chest as they placed her down, the skin to skin contact soothing her cries immediately, "Hello my love, I'm your mummy", you said as tears gathered in your eyes, your finger coming to stroke her pink chubby cheek as you admired her.

"She looks a lot like you, I think we've nailed the mini you, love", Oscar said between tears.

"That is daddy, I'm sure you recognise his voice too", you cooed, "we've been waiting for you for so long, and you're finally here".

Oscar kissed the top of your head before kissing the top of the little girl's head.

"Hi princess Isabella, we're so happy you're finally here", he said tearfully as he stretched his finger so your daughter could grab it between hee much smaller ones.

"Now we're gonna need to take little Isabella - such a beautiful name - to check everything while you deliver the rest, okay?", one of the nurses said and you extended your arms so she could grab her.

Oscar looked over to the nurses' station as they measured and weighed the baby before he looked down to you on the bed, "Thank you for making me a father again, I love you both so much, my love", he said with loving and still a bit teary eyes, grabbing your hand in his and kissing them before touching your forehead lovingly.

"I love you so much, Oscar", you whispered and you kissed his hand that was caressing your cheek, "there's no one else I'd be a parent with".

After delivering the placenta and having your baby girl back in your chest, Oscar couldn't stop the overwhelming surge of feelings in his chest. He was so happy and grateful for you and at the prospect of the life he had yet to fill with memories with your family.

.

When you were finally able to bring Isabella home, the boys were the best behaved you had ever seen them. They weren't troublemakers, and from what you heard the other parents share whenever you waited for the kids outside the school gate, they definitely were a breeze compared to the stories you heard, but this was new.

"I'll fill this up for you, mummy", Lucas stated, grabbing the water bottle you kept near you ti make sure you were drinking enough and helping your milk supply.

"Thank you, buddy", you smiled, adjusting Isabella's head so she could have a better latch.

"Here are the nappies for Isa", Jack offered as he carried the unopened packet he offered to get from the nursery so you could refill the caddy you kept in the living room.

"Thank you, Jack, that's very helpful", you smiled as Oscar sat next to you, "they're being so helpful, it's so cute", you mused.

"Before you came home, they helped me and your parents tidy up and they promise your dad they would be on their best behaviour", your husband mused, kissing your shoulder and looking at your daughter as she suckled on your nipple, never getting tired of watching her beautiful face.

"At what time did Lando say he was coming to visit?", you asked, squinting to look at the time on the TV.

"He said he'd be here in an hour or so, and then his wife and the kids would come later after she got them from school", Oscar mused, "here, let me burp her", he said.

Wiping the corners of Isabella's lips, you kissed her forehead before letting her go to Oscar's arms, watching his tap her back to get all the wind out before she looked ready to fall asleep.

"Mummy is going to have a shower, so you two be good, okay?", you told the boys before you headed up.

Oscar was resting his eyes when his phone alerted to who the car he heard outside belonged to, making him get up and open the door to find Lando.

"Well, hello there, Oscar, and little Isabella, hello darling", he cooed, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"Uncle Lando!", the boys cheered quietly, hugging his legs and letting him ruffle their hair.

"Where's your mummy?", Lando asked, "I brought this goodie bag with all things for postpartum fun! We got one of these from my sisters when we had Lottie and it helped a lot".

"She's upstairs, she said she was going to have a shower and my bet is that she's taking a nap", Oscar added, letting Lando sit before he could pass the little bundle of joy to his arms.

"Hello, little princess, aren't you a cutie", Lando said as he looked at the youngest Piastri.

"You have to support her head, like this", Lucas advised the father of three - soon to be four.

"I know, buddy, thank you for your help", Lando smiled at his protectiveness, letting the boys sit on either side of him.

"She doesn't like when her hands aren't covered - let me fix it", Jack offered before he pulled on the blanket around his sister's hands.

"They're both like this all the time?", Lando wondered as Oscar nodded.

"They don't let anyone else touch her without them being near - only me and Y/N get to keep her to ourselves", Oscar chuckled.

"Oh, she's fussing, daddy!", Jack alerted him.

As if on cue, you walked downstairs and into the living room as Lando was up, trying to soothe the little girl, "it's alright, uncle Lando is here, Isabella", you heard him tell her gently.

"Hello", you greeted as all eyes landed on you.

"Yeah, that's your mummy, babygirl", Lando assured, "and you want her, don't you? I can't compete with your mummy, can I?", he said as he walked closer to you, giving your daughter back so she could cuddle into your chest before he squeezed your arm.

"Thank you", you smiled, "you met uncle Lala, babygirl?", you mused, stroking her cheek and feeling her cries soothe down.

"Just about, yes - your boys surely have the protective older brother thing down", the british driver giggled.

"They're already the best big brothers and she has only been with us for a couple of days", you smiled.

[iamasaddie]

tired

paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist

Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it. 

Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.  

Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight. 

That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.

You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.

“Hey, Joel, long night?” 

Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.

You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly. 

“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.

“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“

“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”

He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.

“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”

You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”

He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up. 

Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t. 

“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze. 

“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight. 

“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”

You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears. 

You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.

“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.

“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath. 

When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.

“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”

Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.

"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”

“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”

Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.

As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.

You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”

“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”

Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.

His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.

“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch. 

You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.

“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.

When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.

Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.

“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.

Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.

Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.

One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.

The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.

“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did. 

The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.

Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.

His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.

“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.

“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.

Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.

“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”

[cheapshrimpysheep]

hi, is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons where Leona, vil and rook(separately) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise

COMMENTS: Coincidentally, I myself have problems with dermatitis on my hands. So, perhaps what I wrote comes a lot from my own experience. Especially the thing about using an ointment that worked once and for some reason no longer works. 😅 And having some trouble sleeping because of the itching.

I hope you and all enjoy it ❤️‍🩹

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Vil Schoenheit / Rook Hunt

TAGS: Comfort; Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 610 words per character

Contact dermatitis is an itchy, inflamed rash that develops when your skin comes into contact with an irritant or allergen. There are two main types: Irritant contact dermatitis and Allergic contact dermatitis.

I decided to go with the first one since Irritant contact dermatitis is the most common type. It's caused by a substance that irritates the skin, such as soaps, detergents, solvents, or harsh chemicals.

CONTEXT: You got dermatitis after cleaning Ramshackle Dorm. It's not the first time, you already had it before, so you think you know how to treat it. Nobody needs to know. So you will take care of your hands at home and whenever you go out you will wear gloves to try to protect them. You'll be fine in no time... Right...?

Leona knew something was wrong the moment he saw you wearing gloves. Nobody starts wearing gloves out of nowhere just because. But he didn't need to ask anything because he saw you moving your hands as if those gloves were uncomfortable. And once or twice he saw you scratching your hands through your gloves and stopping immediately as if you had remembered that you shouldn't do it.

He wasn't going to get involved. At least not if it looked like you were getting better. But on the second day, you still itched. And on the third day, you had bigger dark circles than usual and the itching seemed the same or worse.

You had just returned to Ramshackle Dorm and the first thing you did was take off your gloves and run to the bathroom to treat your hands. Why didn't that get better? You were using the same ointment as last time.

“You should go to the infirmary.” Grim said “Hench-humans should take better care of themselves so they are always ready.” He teases you before showing actual concern. “You're not even sleeping well. I wake up to you scratching yourself every five minutes.”

You won't admit it, but he's right. You should go to the infirmary. Maybe tomorrow. That's what you're thinking when you hear someone knocking on the door. But you can't cover your hands now, the ointment is still working. So you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Show me your hands.” Leona demands calmly. You look surprised and confused. “Show me your hands.” he reiterates, crossing his arms but still patient.

“Why?” you ask.

“Why are you hiding them?” he asks back. “If everything is normal, why don't you show me?” and smiles smugly.

I mean, he's right. Who opens the door with one hand behind their back. This is very suspicious. You hesitate, but end up stretching your arms in front of you to show your red hands and unhealthy skin.

But Leona isn’t surprised. He barely even reacts. As if you had just confirmed his suspicions. He takes off one of his own gloves and puts it in his pocket, holding one of your hands with his gloved hand while he runs the other carefully over your broken skin, to feel it. Does he know it's not contagious?

“The ointment isn't working, is it?” He sais. You had just put it in your hand, so he definitely felt the moist. He puts the glove back on. “Do you have your keys?”

You say they are on the entrance table.

“So grab them and let's go. Unless you want to be locked out of the dorm.”

“Let’s go where?”

“To the herbivores club party. To the infirmary. Where else? If you don't go there alone, someone has to take you. Don't tell me you forgot where it is?” he smiles smugly again. “And don't make me pick you up. You know I would.”

Vil saw your new gloves. Were you trying to change your style a little? No. That's not it. You were uncomfortable with those gloves. He knows about fashion, the same way he knows when a person is using a piece to hide some part of their body.

After classes you went back to Ramshackle Dorm, took off your gloves and applied the ointment. It had worked last time, but this time it didn't seem to be having any effect. You had just come out of the bathroom, with your hands smeared with pumice, when someone knocked on the door. Damn it.

You can't cover your hands now, so you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Hello (Y/N)” Vil greets you. “I apologize for the sudden appearance, but can I come in to talk to you about something?”

You think for a second, you can keep hiding your hands behind your back, so you tell him he can come in. He enters and you close the door behind you, always hiding your hands.

“You've never used gloves before. It's not your style.” It didn't sound like he was criticizing you, like he tends to do with a lot of people. In fact, he sounded quite calm and neutral, almost understanding. “If there's one thing I know how to distinguish when someone starts using a new accessory, it's whether they're using it to try to improve their appearance or to hide themselves. And this second one tends to be a sensitive subject. That's why I thought it would be best to ask you in private. Did something happen to your hands? Are you injured?”

You tell him no, that you're not injured. Well, not exactly in that sense of the word at least. You end up telling him the truth about your skin and how it has reacted to cleansing products.

“Dermatitis? Let me see. I want to know how bad it is.” He now has that judgmental look on his eyes. Which makes you hesitate a little, but you are now also at the point of no return.

You take your hands from behind your back and show Vil your red hands and unhealthy skin, without being able to look him directly in the eyes.

“For the Great Seven! And you let your skin reach this point?” he scolds you. “When did this happen? Have you gone to the infirmary already?”

You say you went there the last time this happened and they gave you an ointment, which was what you were applying.

“And is it having any effect?” He asks. You say that, compared to last time, not really. “Then get ready to go to the infirmary.” He thinks for a second if you should protect your hands from the sun, which reminds him of the gloves he saw you wearing that day. “Let me see the gloves you were wearing.”

You go get the gloves and give them to him. He looks at you disapprovingly as soon as he picks them up.

“These cheap gloves? This material is horrendous! It's probably making your situation even worse.” He throws the gloves onto the entrance table. If there had been a rubbish bin there he would have thrown it in there. He takes off his own gloves and hands them to you. “Here, use mine. They are cotton inside.” You hesitate. His gloves? And they must be expensive. “You can keep them. I have many more like these.”

As you put on his gloves, he details his new plans with you.

“We will go to the infirmary and you will hear everything they told you to do and use. After that, we will review all your cleaning products and materials you use that come into contact with your hands and can create this reaction again. If we have to get rid of everything and buy new products we will do so.” You look at him and show your concern about the price of these possible new products. “If they are truly that expensive, I'll buy them for you. Your hands won't go back to this state on my watch. And then you come with me to Pomefiore to analyze your skin and find products to protect and care for your hands. Did you understood?”

Que Adorable! Rook thinks. Trickster really thought they could hide something from me? That really entertain him. Seeing you wearing gloves and trying to hide how uncomfortable you were wearing them and trying not to scratch your hands too much. You reminded him of an animal that tries to hide the fact that it is seriously injured.

Even though it was funny at first, he couldn't see you like this. He assumed what it was from the symptoms you show, but he didn't want to talk to you in front of others. After all, if you were trying to hide it, it's because he didn't want others to know.

He sneakily followed you to Ramshackle Dorm. You opened the door, letting Grim enter first to run to the kitchen for some snacks. You pass the door jamb and it's when you go to close the door that you hear

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook’s head pops from the side. He lets out a little muffled laugh at how startled you were. “I spotted yor new pair of glove on your hands. Are you perhaps trying a new look? Merveilleux! It's exciting to try out new accessories to express another side of ourselves, isn't it? However...” His friendly look now changes to that hunter look of his. And the smile of someone who cannot be deceived. “I don't believe that's the real motive you're wearing those gloves. Am I mistaken?”

You don't even know how to answer him. He already knows the truth and you know there's nothing you can do about it. His expression returns to normal, he now has that characteristic resting smile on his face.

“There's no need to be shy with me. I purposely came to talk to you here because I knew it wasn't something you wanted to discuss in public.” And now his smile has faded into that slightly more serious look that he only tends to have when something worries him a little, or when he feels that the situation is not so light. “I saw how you itched your hands, how uncomfortable you were with the gloves. It's a skin problem, isn't it? Maybe dermatitis?”

You don't say anything. It's not necessary. He knows the answer just by looking at you, your face, your posture. And your hands were starting to itch again.

“Please, you can take off your gloves. They are clearly only making your situation worse.” You hesitate. “It really hurts me to see you suffering like this. No matter how damaged your skin is, I know that your hands are as beautiful as the rest of you and that they just need treatment to become très belles again. And if you allow me to help with your recovery, I will do so with the greatest love and care.” He smiles charmingly at you, the type of smile that makes you feel safe.

You take off your gloves, showing him your red hands and unhealthy skin.

“Sacrebleu! What did this to your hands?”

You tell him it was your cleaning products and about the ointment you were using since the last time that happened to you. And, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be having much effect this time.

“We must go to the infirmary if it's not working anymore.” He proclaims, embodying his dramatic self. “Ooh, your poor, beautiful hands, threatened by something that should assist you caring for your home and yourself. They must be replaced. I will happily help you with it and get you gloves that will protect you in the future. Fear not, my dear Trickster. Shall your hands be healthy once again.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[pupyuj]

hiiii! I just came across your writing in one of the tags, and I have to say it is AMAZINGG!

I was wondering if you could write a blurb aht this, as I've been having the BIGGEST wonyoung brainrot everrrr:

so, why can I imagine dom g!p wonyoung × sub!fem who gets spoiled rotten by wonyoung, anything that she says she wants, it'll be there the next day! anything she even looks at for more than 5 seconds, she'll have it! Wony spoiling her with not only the things they like, but also with her love, kissing them almost everytime she thinks of them, laying their head in her lap, or even just letting them sit on her lap while she works.

but along with this love comes the need for her baby to be obedient, but you deciding to be a brat, would go make things south! you just suddenly talking back to wonyoung one day, walking away from her and she's just like "??" and she kets it slide a few times, but then she's had enough and drags you to her bed! edging you with her fingers till you aren't sobbing! oh! and! omg! cunt slaps with wonyoung, making you anticipate at which second its gonna happen, but you can never be too sure, with the cool wind grazing your clit, and wonyoungs harsh grip on your thighs, and her stare has you already whimpering!

WELL YES EXACTLYSFDHJDD 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 also omfg I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THE G!P PART AND ONLY REMEMBERED IT BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING 😭 very sorry anon, but i hope you still enjoyed this 💔💔

we all know wony would just love spoiling her loved ones—it’s her love language! gifts, affection, sweet words whatever it is wony will always be willing to give it to you even without asking 🥺 usually you deserve it anyway.. always listening well to wony and doing whatever it is she asks of you.. things like that is why you’re allowed to ‘bother’ her 👀 ‘bother’ being kissing her neck and grinding on her with a pleading look in your eyes while she’s in the middle of an important phone call (to which she just smirks at you and doesn’t even touch you, making you whine which she likes a lot), discreetly touching her during the gathering and parties she brings you to bcs you needed her to fuck you so bad but she couldn’t be bothered bcs she was talking with her friends.. ofc this was not you being impatient or disrespectful, you were just needy :((

but hey, wonyoung never gets annoyed of it all 🥰 in fact, she’s more than willing to give you what you need when she finally has the time.. bcs at least you weren’t complaining and being a bad girl! but when you are a bad girl though?? wony isn't very nice! she has no patience for that kind of behavior, especially not from her baby who she expects to be good all the time! 😤😤 she understands that you have your own bad days but you were usually just even more cute and cuddly... so imagine her confusion when you just start acting like a huge brat?? unacceptable!

when you gave her a look after she asked you to do one simple thing, she decided that it was the last straw! and so you're dragged you to your shared bedroom by your hair and wony sits you down nicely on the bed with the clear intent to punish you out of that bratty attitude 🫣 tying you up and completely restraining you to the point where you can’t move a single inch :(( hands behind your back, legs spread wide open waiting in fear as you watch wony look through her drawers full of toys… as terrified as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a pinch of excitement course through you! wonyoung doesn’t get why there was that glint of eagerness in your eyes when she approached you with some toys in hand—you usually felt horrible when you were being punished bcs you hated disobeying her,,, but wonyoung isn’t complaining! perhaps she can get used to you being a brat.. but that’s a practice for later bcs you just pissed her off and she needs to set you straight before you start getting brave 🫠🫠

her making you sit on a vibrator while she touches you everywhere but your pussy :(( "what? need your cunt filled up, hon? bad girls have to be punished first..." she whispers while she plays with your tits so excruciatingly gently?? barely pinching your nipples even though you're practically begging her to squeeze and grope and shit like that,, wony finding so much joy in tormenting you by increasing the toy's speed at random times but then slowing it down once she sees that you're having too much fun... it comes to the point where tears squeeze out of your eyes but wony doesn't stop! even when you were close to cumming! it felt shameful, wanting to cum to a vibrator instead of her fingers but she makes you sit on it for such a long time, it was nearly impossible to hold it in! :(( and so you end up cumming... but that was a really terrible idea! 🫢

now.. cunt slapping and wonyoung is literally a match made in heaven idc it's too perfect!! her being so annoyed that you completely disregarded her demand that you 'hold it in' and so she resorts to punishments that inflicted pain?? her hitting your sensitive clit,, every fall of her hand making you flinch and jump when she slaps the hard bud.. your slurred strings of apologies and "please" only fed her anger... "gonna think twice before getting brave at me again, right? gonna be a good girl? answer." she says through gritted teeth.. the one hand keeping your legs apart didn't lack in giving you pain... you felt her long nails pierce your skin, nearly making you bleed and wonyoung's grip tightened every second you spent sobbing instead of talking to her... nods weren't enough! nope, you had to speak 💔💔

"s-s-sorry, mommy... i'm sorry, please..! please, i'll be good.." that took all of your strength and wony was so proud! :(( proud enough that she finally fills you full of her fingers and brings you to that climax you kept begging for! see? all you needed to do was be good 💞 but that was an otherwordly experience so being a brat for no reason just to get wonyoung to be scarier, hotter, and meaner might just be worth it 👀👀

[littlefreya]

Neptune's Snare

Summary: She came to take revenge on the loathsome man who murdered her fiance, only to become his captive.

Read Chapter One

Pairing: AU!Pirate August Walker x Virgin OFC (for now 😏)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Sexual themes, dark themes mentioned, historical inaccuracies, kidnapping, captivity, graphic descriptions of sex, intimidation, slow burn, sexual tension, foul language.

A/N: I was unsure whether I should do part 2, but @deandoesthingstome (💖) motivated me to do it, so I truely hope you will like it. Many thanks to @agniavateira, for beta'ing. I am no longer using my old tag list, but I will tag those who specifically asked to be tagged for this story via my new Writing Update Blog @littlefreyaslibrary.

Thanks for reading, and please reblog with a comment 🖤

Chapter Two

Hours had passed since the Captain left—hours of futile attempts to escape the cruelty of the heavy iron binds. By now, the ship was deep into the ocean, miles away from any harbour or piece of land. The notion that she’d been abducted by the most ruthless murderer known to authorities had only just begun to sink. 

As hot tears stung at her cheeks, Lizette couldn’t help but chuckle at the stupidity that led her to this fate.

‘Did you really think that a foolish girl could succeed where great men had failed?’ 

If Lizette had dared be honest, she would admit she never thought that plan through, not that it mattered much anymore. Soon enough, she would be yet another shiny trinket in Blackbeard’s gaudy collection.

Exhausted from a fierce yet futile battle, she leaned her head back against the plush, gold-paneled wall. Her weary gaze drifted through the open window, where the dark skies and black seas merged into a desolate void. No light shone through tonight; the darkness has devoured the stars and the moon. Lizette felt as if she was drowning in it too, sinking into a thick, tar-like liquid. With each breath, the collar around her throat grew heavier, the iron pressing into her skin and dragging her deeper and deeper until everything faded to black.

When she blinked again, it was still night but the cabin was lit in deep shades of honey and amber. Her heart skipped—once for the iron still hanging from her neck and twice as her bleary eyes caught sight of a shadow by the edge of the big table.  

It appeared that her host had returned. 

Boots flung across the food-abundant table, the Captain sat back in his royal velvet chair. One hand cradled a silver chalice whilst the other toyed with the edge of his thick whiskers. Silver trays of food, wine, and books were splayed before him, surrounded by dozens of fat, wax-dripping candles. The flickering flame guttered upon his eyes, painting them bright red while he observed the girl intently. 

The curiosity was mutual, at least to some extent. As loathsome as the pirate was, Lizette could not help but scrutinise. Never in her life did she see a man so crude and yet so regal at the same time, He looked like a washed-out king, holding himself to a higher status amongst the scum aboard his ship. Surrounding himself with fine art, books and scientific obscurities, one would assume that this low-life man was educated, or at least aspired to be. His appearance, too, was of some sort of false elegance,  with his moustache carefully groomed and his hair neatly combed save for an errant curl that fell upon his tanned forehead. However, the white cotton shirt that hung partially unbuttoned and loose from his shoulders exposed him for what he truly was as it revealed a myriad of tattoos, scars, and coarse hair. 

‘Nothing but a filthy scoundrel.’

“At last, sleeping beauty is awake.” 

Lizette kept her tongue knotted. The blazes on her stare answered on her behalf. 

August scoffed at the silent response. ‘Precious little thing,’ Had only she known how much he enjoyed obstinate women. The only thing that was better than bending a spitfire to his will was getting a nun to kneel before his cock.

A slight twitch tugged at his cheek; his smirk widening at the fond memory.  

‘Ah, Mary… you sure pray hard.’

Letting go of his whiskers and the chalice in his grasp, the Captain reached for a loaf of bread and split it in half. Steam rose and coiled to the air.  The scrumptious scent of the freshly baked goods quickly filled the room and wafted over Lizette in a tempting invitation. Absentminded, she suckled her bottom lip, almost able to taste the sweetness on her tongue. 

The pirate held out one piece of the loaf, an unmistakably provoking grin lighting his face. “Would you dine with me, pet?”

Weakness unfurled through her, reminding Lizette that it must have been hours, if not an entire day, since she last ate. Her empty belly flipped and gurgled so loudly that the pirate could hear it even from where he sat. Joy immediately cascaded about his glance; the impish grin between his cheeks further stretched. 

To his delightful surprise, the girl was a lot more stubborn than she appeared. Instead of begging, she offered a spiteful glare and turned her face away. 

“I’d rather starve!” 

“Suit yourself.” The Captain shrugged and bit on one of the pieces. Hums and moans sputtered from his mouth, all exaggerated to taunt his brazen prisoner. As he finished chewing, he sucked on each of his inked fingers. 

“Got a name, pet?”

“What matter is that to you?” The girl spat.

August shrugged again and returned to the chalice, dragging it on the table's surface in circular motions. A deep-red whirlpool briefly formed in his drink. He stared at it indifferently as he retorted, “Matters not, pet. But since you’ll be spending some time here in my quarters, I will require a moniker to approach you by. Question is, would you rather I choose a name for you myself? It won’t be a nice one. I can promise you that.” 

Keeping her eyes averted, the girl folded her knees and hugged them, a deep sigh sinking from her. She couldn’t even bring herself to imagine the horrendous name he would choose.

“My name is Lizette.” 

A touch of dark delight kissed his face—as if he had heard the enchanting hymn of a siren. Thoughtful, he stopped stirring his drink to the sound of her name, licked his lips, lifted the chalice and pressed it to his lips. “Ah, yes, you are definitely a Lizzy.” 

“It’s Lizette!” she vehemently corrected.  

“Oh!” The pirate abruptly twirled his free hand in the air, his brows lifting in a sardonically submissive gesture. “Forgiveness! Mercy, milady!” That had earned him the attention he was hoping to receive, as finally, Lizette snapped to glare at him. 

The pure ire on her face did nothing but feed his amusement. 

With a slanted grin and his thumb brushing his whiskers, he eyed her back. It’s been a while since a girl piqued his fascination, and this one was indeed something else. Fear seeped from her like dewy nectar from a ripe fruit. The sheen of sweat clinging to her skin and the throbbing at the crook of her neck gave away her true emotions. Yet, she exuded the unyielding fury of a harpy, the shackles around her throat barely deterring her brazen spirit.. 

‘Bold little thing. As ferocious as the ship’s cat…’ August thought and then frowned, ‘Where is that ungodly creature, anyway? Haven’t seen it in a while.’ 

“Lady Lizette…” the correct moniker rolled smoothly on his tongue in an inherently sinister sweetness. “Are you always such a rude guest to your hosts?”

“Guest?!” Lizette seized the chain that held her collar to the wall and lifted it in front of him—a deep frown decorating her weary face.  

“I am not a guest! I am a prisoner!”

“Ah! Ah!” The pirate lifted his inked index finger in an unbearably pretentious manner. "It was you who came aboard my ship willingly, and let us not forget—uninvited.” 

Lizette felt a chill in her chest, the same chill she always sensed when getting an answer wrong in her Latin lessons. He was right, and there was more to it. Pirate or not, doesn't every man deserve respect in his own home? 

That notion made her cheeks hot. 

“And if I may…“ the pirate drawled huskily and shifted into his seat. Lizette’s eyes followed his movement with the wariness of a skittish cat. Initially bemused, she realised his hand had snaked below the table and was now fumbling with his waistband. 

A deep, pulsating pang bloomed in her core as the primordial anxiety every maiden is doomed to suffer from awoke within her. Alarmed, she shook her head and blurted hoarsely, “Wait!” 

The pirate paid her no mind; either he didn’t hear or didn’t care. Then, his hand sprang back sharply with a pistol in his grip—the same one he had confiscated from her merely a few hours before. 

“Did you not attempt to murder me in my own home?” 

With those words, he slammed the pistol on the table, the dull thud booming through the cabin wall and causing Lizette to jump with a start.

Sinking back to his red regal chair, August crossed his fingers together and pressed his lips together with the contempt of an authority figure. The many golden trinkets around his fingers chimed as they collided. 

“Answer me, Pet.” 

Lizette regarded the pistol carefully. The golden floral embellishments upon the handle sparked with the candle's light.  For a fleeting moment, she wondered how fast she needed to be to grab the pistol and shoot him dead in his rotten heart. Instead, she simply nodded, much as she could with the heavy collar around her neck. The spots where the sharp edges grazed her flesh burnt as sweat dripped over the bruised skin.

“Dumb as your plan was, I do appreciate the gesture, las. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to murder me, but it’s definitely the first time it was a beautiful young lady. Was all of this because of a boy?” He challenged, crooking one eyebrow. 

This time, Lizette did not hesitate to answer. 

“You robbed me of my future!” She corrected, and though she tried to maintain a fierce demeanour, the quiver in her voice gave away the rageful grief. 

Sympathy, sadly, was not in August’s books, especially not whilst being distracted by the way her breasts pressed against the confines of the corset with every fervorous breath. A small, almost inaudible groan left his lips. He wondered if she, indeed, was a virgin. Did he deny her of her wedding night? Were these lovely tits ever in the hands of a man before? 

Surely, he would find out. One way or another. 

With a glare still fixed on her cleavage, he grazed his dimpled chin and simply shrugged. 

“Pirate.” 

Lizette hissed in response. Defiant, she snapped her arms across her chest to hide her cleavage. 

‘Pig.’

“So I robbed you of your future,” August continued, mimicking quotation marks with his long, inked fingers. “And thus, you thought you should rob me of mine?” 

“And what future would that be? Murdering and whoring?” she muttered hatefully.  

The pirate swatted a hand over his chest, giving her a fake, exaggerated pout. “Now that pains me, love.” 

Lizette could sense the blood seeth beneath her skin. She was used to men belittling her, but never did she experience such sheer mockery and humiliation. Trembling, she yelled back, “Good! I wish you nothing but pain!”

“And so she continues to insult me in my own home.” August clicked his tongue and shook his head with sardonic disappointment. “You highborn ladies sure lack respect. ‘Funny thing is, no matter how uppity women like you act, they all want the same thing…” his voice slurred and deepened, coaxing a baffled look from the maiden who abruptly forgot her wrath and ate the bait. 

“And what would that be?” 

The pirate stood and calmly paced to the fore of the table, where he leaned against the edge to peer down at his prisoner. Lizette remained guarded. he was fairly far away yet close enough for his shadow to fall upon her face and for his manhood to be situated at the level of her mouth. She struggled to avoid staring at it directly, which only made that wretched smug smile light his face again.

“What you ladies truly want is to be violated by none other but us ‘lowlife scoundrels’,” August nibbled his bottom lip, a dry chuckle escaping him as more fond memories came to mind. “Truly, the lots of you are bored by the castrated virility of the poised gentlemen. All you fantasise about is to be fucked dirty like a whore by a brute who has no sense of propriety.” 

The pirate held his fist before him and mimicked a slow pumping motion. Although Lizette did not quite understand it, his words alone were enough to leave her gravely unsettled. 

“You are an animal,” she snarled, not realising that her nails were biting into her forearms as she clutched herself so protectively. 

But that merely fueled him.    

“Tell me, Pet, did your boy satisfy those dark desires before he left a delicious bonny lass like yourself all alone? Did he split open and plundered your sweet little cunt, ass, and mouth, or did he leave you wet and miserable?”

Heat crawled at Lizette’s cheeks, yet she wasn’t sure whether it was from outrage or shame. Never in her life had she even considered the possibilities he had suggested, and now those horrifying images poisoned her mind.  

Amused by her obvious mortification, the pirate tilted his head impishly. “No? Not even a finger or a tongue?”

“Stop it!” She implored, her voice cracking.

Ignoring her plea, he clicked his tongue. “Aw, sweet, tender flower. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He left you all alone and uncharted—that lonesome seal, begging to be invaded. Well, milady, you didn’t have to threaten me with a pistol in that case. All you had to do was ask.” 

The pirate reached for his bulge and squeezed it, much to Lizette’s dismay.

”Trust me, one night with me, and you’d forget you ever loved him.”

That was enough to send Lizette over the edge. Not thinking twice, she jerked to her feet, the chains around her rattling along a furious onslaught that sputtered from her mouth. 

“Love?! What do you know about love? You are a monster! All you do is kill and rape! You are incapable of love, and I’d be damned if anyone could ever love you!” 

All the candles in the cabin flickered with a sudden gust of wind as the pirate suddenly lunged forward. He moved so fast, too fast. Lizette hadn’t even had the chance to sway from his touch, and already he was upon her. Crude fingers dug deep into the hollows of her cheek, forcing her to face his terrorising stare. 

“You think this is a game? You think you know anything about me, little girl? About what I’ve done!?” 

It was not a question to be answered, and even so, Lizette couldn’t bring herself to speak; she was suffocating, drowning on the surface. All around her, the air stood dense with the scent of iron, wine, and musky sweat, whilst the weight of his body crushed as it clung to her. 

Closer, deeper. Layers upon layers of silk and wool separated their skin from one another, and still, she sensed the curve and firmness of his robust figure. The woven map of muscles that adorned his torso and the flex each muscle made as he tensed were evident 

But none of this came close to what she saw as he forced her to look into his eyesa wrathful maelstrom pregnant with sinister urges beyond her darkest fears. It felt as if it was trying to draw her into a deep sense of anger, and grief submerged her.

Dread began to spill into her veins. He was going to kill her.

Lizette sucked in a deep shuddering breath. She was not going to join her Edward. Not tonight.

“Let go of me!” She squealed and began to punch his shoulders repeatedly. It felt like hitting iron, every blow more painful than the other, yet she refused to stop. 

Indeed, she was just like that sea monster of a cat.

Stoic as an icy sea breeze, the pirate tilted his head at the girl. Despite her desperate efforts, her battle did nothing but vex him. Quirking one eyebrow, he released his grip from her jaw and swiftly reached for her hands. Lizette did her best to evade, squirming erratically, but to no avail. With a swift single hand, he seized her wrists and pinned them above her head with a booming thud.

The girl gasped out with surrender, strands of her hair blowing back and forth upon her face as she heaved and panted exhaustingly. With his hand around her wrists and his body slightly bent to meet her height, he stood  closer to her than any other man had before. So close that she could taste the wine and sea salt on his breath and study every freckle and every scar that marked his skin. He was nothing like her Edward, she thought; he was coarse and terrifying, and despite it all, she found him tragically beautiful. 

She hated him for that. 

“Listen to me now and listen carefully,” he finally spoke, tightening his grip around her wrists.

Liaette lifted her chin disdainfully; it took every ounce of self-restraint not to spit at his murderous, smug face. 

“You’ve mistook my hospitality and playfulness for kindness, but let’s get this straight; I am not a good man. Upset me, and I will pluck that little flower between your thighs without blinking and then throw you to my crew once I have my fill.” 

His words brought a stark shiver down her spine, yet it wasn’t just fear this time but something far more primordial. Between her trembling thighs, she sensed dewy wetness. A desperate gnawing need she had never known before. Trying to ease and brush it off, she squirmed and ground her thighs. 

August’s brow rose with realisation, an immediate knowing grin spilling upon his malicious face. He leaned closer, his lips and whiskers brushing against her ear as he spoke. 

“Seems like there won’t be much resistance from you, isn’t that so, pet? Soon, you’ll beg me to fuck y…”

His words were cut as warm saliva splattered on his cheek. 

He shut his eyes momentarily, releasing a deep, exasperated grunt and then moved an inch away to fish a silk handkerchief from his pocket. Lizette watched proudly as he wiped his face. 

The pirate, however, was not amused. Throwing away the handkerchief, he offered her a deadly frown. And then he leaned in, his mouth drawing voraciously closer to hers as if meaning to devour her.

“I warned you…”

“Captain.”

A low, sonorous call followed from the door, drawing both August and Lizette to turn their heads toward the uninvited guest. 

Lizette blinked twice. The man in question was almost the spitting image of August, though his hair was wild with earthy curls and his beard fully grown, pointy, and tended with wax. Indifferent to the scene before him, he drew a pipe from his pockets and lit it with the flame of a candle that stood on a shelf near the door.  

August regarded him with slight respect, yet not without annoyance:." What is it? I am busy.”

“I can see that,” the other pirate puffed out, grey lines of smoke following through his nostrils, “you are needed at the brig.”

“About?”

“Flint might finally speak.”

Eyes ablaze with sudden intrigue, August straightened to his fall height and drew a step back from the girl yet kept his grip around her wrists. 

“I assume your methods worked, brother?” He crooked one eyebrow at the other pirate curiously. 

‘Brother, of course,’ Lizette nearly chuckled. The men must have been twins, although she could tell the other sibling had far more grey in his untamed mane. 

“My methods always work.” He answered with dry arrogance. “Finish her off later. This is more important.”

August lingered, his fingers brushing over his moustache as he contemplated what to do with his sweet little prisoner. The possibilities were endless, yet the more interesting ones would take some time, and with the trouble she gave him, he definitely wanted to give her what she deserved. 

A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips. “A moment, Gus,” he requested, finally unhanding the girl. 

The man, now known as Gus, bowed his head and threw Lizette a quick glance before disappearing into the darkness behind the door.

“It seems like I have some business to attend to, love. Shall we continue our little fun later?” August teased, slight annoyance still lingering at the tone of his voice.

Lizette did not answer. Rubbing her aching wrists, she watched him cautiously while he searched within his pockets.  She wondered what new cruel method of torment he would inflict to her now. 

To her surprise, it was a small silver key.

He lifted it to her face and offered her a razor-sharp  stare." The water is close to freezing; sharks and eels are swimming within them, and every man upon my deck is probably plotting to use you as fuckhole since the moment you stepped onboard. I trust you won’t try anything stupid in my absence.”

“Like what?” Despite her physical and mental exhaustion, she dared to speak back, “Seduce one of your crew members to fornicate with me so he would betray and murder you?” 

Her weariness must have brought out the worst in her because she would have never thought of such an inappropriate, vile thing. Then she realised it was  him who, in less than a few hours, corrupted her soul. 

August paused and contemplated for a moment as if this was an actual possibility he did not consider. However, he brushed it off with a burst of taunting laughter while proceeding to unlock the collar around her neck. “I wouldn’t  recommend it, love. They all come with so many exotic afflictions on their cock s that no doctor has even heard of.” 

As the iron was removed from her little neck, the girl rested her hands around it, massaging the cuts and bruises that formed beneath. It ached even worse as the chill air of the night pecked at the raw flesh. 

The pirate waltzed toward the table, reclaiming the pistol in an obviously provoking manner. He sheathed it back at the front of his waistband and paced toward the door. 

“I won’t be long, love,” he promised, and with that, he left and locked the door behind him.

Lizette listened carefully to the sound of his footsteps, counting them one by one until she could no longer hear him. And then, she began to search around the cabin for anything, anything that can be used as a weapon. 

‘I will not be a pirate’s whore.’  She vowed to herself while absentmindedly grazing a palm over her cheeks where August had touched her. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

too far ~ jschlatt

word count: 2231

request?: no

description: in which he takes his dickishness a little too far

pairing: jschlatt x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf, angst, use of y/n, schlatt being a dick, insecurities and self...issues (?),

masterlist (one, two, three)

*i read a fic with this premise like a week or two ago but i cannot for the life of me find it anymore and i needed some mean schlatt angst turned fluff so i am writing my own version. if you are the original author this one goes out to you i will tag you if i can find you*

Everyone who knew Schlatt knew that he was sometimes "mean". It was never serious, it was all just meant to be teasing. For the most part, the worst of it went to Minx who was able to match his energy without it ever affecting her. Everyone else just got a few comments every now and then, but never anything incredibly rude.

Until it suddenly got directed all on you.

You had known Schlatt for some time, having met him through his online friend group while gaming one night. You had become acquainted quickly and you found yourself being excited whenever you knew you'd be playing or recording with him. It seemed like he felt the same way, or at least he was friendly and civil. That was until one recording when you were excitedly talking about something, he suddenly piped up to say, "Jesus, do you ever shut the fuck up?"

Everyone was laughing, so you figured it was just a joke, but it took you by surprise. You knew Schlatt was blunt, but it seemed completely out of nowhere when no one else seemed to mind your babble. You chuckled along with everyone, but you found yourself falling silent for the rest of the recording. Some of the others would include you in the conversation, but you only gave short answers.

After that, it seemed like Schlatt would be picking on you more and more. He rarely had anything nice to say to or about you. It became harder and harder to want to do recordings or streams when he was acting like that, and your mutual friends were starting to notice his continued bullying. It made everyone feel uncomfortable, even if he kept insisting it was just jokes.

It all came to a head when you were asked to do one of those "dating shows" on YouTube. It was you, Minx, Emma, and Jaiden, and Schlatt, Ted, Tanner, and Connor, with Jack hosting it. You weren't sure what the rules were or how the game was supposed to go down, but you loved watching the hilarity of other online "dating shows", and couldn't wait to be a part of it. You were a little weary of Schlatt's presence, but there were so many people involved that you figured you wouldn't get the brunt of his insults today.

Jack sent you the link for the Zoom call. You were one of the last people to join the call, so you were immediately met with a cacophony of overlapping voices. You chuckled to yourself at the familiar chaos. You adjusted your volume settings and positioned your webcam before turning it on.

A high pitched scream brought the conversations to a halt.

"What the fuck was that?" Jack said with a laugh.

"I think it was Schlatt," Ted said.

"Yeah it was me. Sorry, I just saw a jumpscare," Schlatt responded.

"What the fuck are you on about?" Minx asked.

"I saw (Y/N)'s ugly mug suddenly join the call and it scared me."

Everyone was silent. Your face burned and tears started to form in your eyes. Your body moved before your brain could register, your hand moving your mouse to click the "End Call" button. The moment everyone's faces disappeared, you allowed yourself to cry.

For all the hurtful stuff Schlatt had said, he had never gone after your appearance. It was one of your biggest insecurities because you felt like you didn't measure up to other female streamers. Sure, that was a cliche insecurity, but it was your truth. You marveled at how pretty all your friends were and would often mentally compare yourself to them. It wasn't something you had spoken publicly about, so obviously Schlatt didn't know he would touch a nerve, but it still felt like an extremely low blow. Especially for it to be the first thing you heard when you turned your camera on.

You sent Jack a message to apologize for leaving, but you told him you didn't feel up to doing the show anymore. He responded almost immediately to let you know that it was okay and he didn't blame you for your decision. You were shutting down your set up when your Discord started ringing; a voice call from Ted.

"Aren't you supposed to be recording?" you asked, trying to keep your voice even.

"We're taking a quick break while Jack decides if he wants Schlatt to compete anymore," Ted explained.

"Don't kick him off just because of me," you said.

"We don't really want him to play after what he said. It was incredibly fucked up and uncalled for."

"He's said worse to Minx."

"Yeah, but he and Minx have an understanding. We've all noticed that he makes fun of you, but you don't respond the way Minx does. I don't know what his problem is recently, but you don't deserve those insults. You're an incredibly kind person, unlike us assholes."

You chuckled through your tears. "You're not an asshole, Ted."

"I am sometimes, don't lie."

"Only a little bit." You wiped the fresh tears from your eyes and let out a shaky sigh. "I don't want to record with Schlatt anymore."

"I understand," Ted said. "I'll let everyone know, too."

"Thank you."

When you and Ted hung up, you sat back in your chair and took a deep breath. The sting from Schlatt's words was still strong, but you also felt some relief in having talking to Ted about it and him assuring you that you wouldn't have to record with Schlatt anymore. It still upset you that Schlatt made such a 180 when it seemed like you were both getting along so well, but you weren't going to wast anymore brain space on him.

Your phone buzzed from a Discord notification. You looked down at the screen to see Schlatt was trying to send you a message. Instead of reading it, you went to his Discord profile and blocked him.

~~~~~~

It was easier than you thought to forget about Schlatt and his insults. All your friends did as you asked didn't invite you to recordings if Schlatt was a part of them, or vice versa with him. You went on to block him on all social media, and even muting his channels on YouTube so you wouldn't risk seeing him in your recommended. It was like he never existed, and you didn't even care.

You were in the middle of editing a video when a knock came at your door. You assumed it was the Uber Eats you had ordered, so you saved your progress and got up to answer. Instead of finding a delivery guy, you came face to face with the man you had been avoiding for weeks.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. "Wait, better question, how do you know where I live?"

"I bothered Ted until he told me," Schlatt responded.

You rolled your eyes. "Ted's dead to me."

You went to close the door, but Schlatt's hand shot out to block the door. You scowled at him. "Take the hint, Schlatt. I don't want to see you."

"I know you don't, and I get why, but please let me explain and apologize."

"I don't want to hear what you have to say. Honestly, you don't even deserve to take up my time to try and give some shitty explanation for your shitty behavior."

"I know - "

"You really hurt me," you cut him off. "I took the insults in silence because I knew you poked fun at everyone, but they really hurt me. It got to a point where I was dreading having to interact with you every time someone invited to a Discord call and I saw that you were in there too."

"(Y/N) - "

"And then you called me ugly in a call in front of everyone and that hurt the most. I know it shouldn't have given how much else you've said to me, but my looks are one of my biggest insecurities, and I know you probably didn't know that but still, going after how I look was such a low blow. And it hurts so much because I thought we were friends, but suddenly you're insulting me and bullying me at every chance you get, and it almost felt worse than the way you act with Minx so how am I supposed to take it as anything other than you not liking me and - "

Your rambling was finally cut off by Schlatt taking hold of your face and pulling you into him. You were shocked when you felt his lips against yours. Your initial reaction was to pull away and to start yelling at him again, but suddenly your brain switched to tell you lean into it. So you did. You pressed into Schlatt as much as you could; your body against his, your hands on his hoodie, standing on your toes so you could reach him.

Also to your surprise, Schlatt was the one to pull away first. He rested his forehead against yours, keeping his face inches apart from yours.

"That was one way to get me to stop talking," you joked.

He smiled. "Seemed to be the most effective way."

"So, are you about to tell me the reason you were being mean to me is because you liked me? Because if so, that is a very elementary school explanation."

"Unfortunately, that is the reason."

You pulled away from Schlatt and finally gestured for him to come in. You realized you had been standing in the doorway this whole time, and now that you had somewhat calmed down, you figured you'd listen to his explanation. You were much more intrigued now after your kiss, although you were far from completely forgiving him for what had happened.

You led Schlatt to your living room and you both sat down on the couch. You were very much aware of how close you two were sat. His body was inches away from yours. You could be touching him again if you wanted to.

"I was trying to push you away," he said, bringing you back to the topic at hand. "I was afraid you wouldn't like me back, and it felt easier to make you hate me than to risk that rejection."

"No offense, but that's a really stupid idea."

He chuckled. "Yeah, no offense taken because you're right. I should've just talked to you about it like an adult instead of assuming you would've rejected me. I thought the easier route would be to make you hate me, but then that succeeded and I realized how much I missed getting to talk to you. Not to sound too corny or anything, but everything felt empty when you weren't around. I knew I fucked up majorly, and I tried to apologize that night after what happened, but you blocked me on everything and I realized just how far I had actually gone."

You thought back to the call you had with Ted that day when everything had come to a head with Schlatt. "Did you not tell Ted how you felt?"

"Not until I begged him for your address. Listen, I love Ted and all, but the dude has a big fuckin' mouth. He would've let it slip one way or another how I feel about you, and I didn't want that. Actually, no one knew. I kept it to myself completely."

"You're an idiot. You know that, right?"

He nodded. "I'm more than well aware, yes."

"And you know it's going to take more than just kissing me and apologizing to completely redeem yourself? I understand why you acted the way you did, as stupid as it was, but it still really hurt me. I'm not going to forget everything just because you were being stupid."

"I don't expect you to. All I wanted was to explain myself and hope that you'd give me a second chance. I'm serious, (Y/N), I don't think I can just not have you in my life. If you don't want to date, that's fine. I'm okay with something platonic, as long as I have you."

You smiled and finally dared to reach out and touch him. You took his hand in yours, running your thumb over his knuckles. You then dared to lean forward and capture his mouth with yours in a quick, gentle kiss. When you pulled away, Schlatt had a smile on his face. You mirrored it with a smile of your own.

"You'll have to work for forgiveness," you told him. "You can start by taking me out on a date."

"Done," he said. "Right now?"

You giggled. "Maybe tomorrow. I was actually in the middle of editing a video when you came, and I have Uber Eats on the way."

As if on cue, there was a knock at your door.

"That would be it."

"Can I stay and hang out while you edit?" Schlatt asked.

"Of course. But I'm not sharing my food with you."

"Oh, you have no choice. You invited me in and let me stay, therefore you're sharing your food."

"You know what? Go fuck yourself, I take back everything I said."

You exclaimed and giggled as he suddenly grabbed you and pulled you to him. "Too late! No take backs! You're stuck with me for a very long time, toots."

[1117feverlessdreams]

Liquid Courage

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🌀 🍸SUMMARY: Working beside Mingi at a bar was always fun. The flirting, the jokes, and the teasing made work more enjoyable, until the connection became too intense to bear. The boss leaves you alone to close one night, and your coworker makes you a special refreshment with lots of (s)creams.

🌀 🍸 TAGS: Alcohol use, intoxication, cursing, explicit name-calling, use of babe and sugar. fingering, oral sex, nipple play, fluff, and protective intercourse.

🌀 🍸 WORD COUNT: 7.4k

🌀 🍸 A/N: I tried to depict Mingi in a way that was true to his personality. He is truly loved by everyone he meets and I wish he knew that!

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You jump in fright from the repeated eager shouting of your name. “Y/n! Mingi! I need the both you over here, pronto!” Naturally you were startled, but not all too surprised by your boss's authoritative tone.

“Sorry boss...”

It’s been an unfortunate occurrence that your attention has been highly selective all early noon. The behavior was oddly out of character for you, but very typical for your coworker.

The underlying truth of the matter is that you’ve come to your senses- you have an excruciating crush on your co-worker, Mingi.

It had only been one year since you landed the job at the bar, and things where going really well.

You just didn’t want to fuck it up by, you know... fucking.

You've both heard and seen how work “relationships” tend to end. Nine times out of ten, the outcomes aren’t that positive. If anything, it creates a toxic environment to both parties, and the working environment as a whole.

You place down the washcloth on the bar countertop to finish your insignificant task of drying off moisture from spilled drinks and the bottom of cold glasses.

It was a non-obvious call for distraction to escape the unbearable thoughts…given that the culprit for them is in your vicinity.

The spiky pink-haired charmer frees his grip on the countertop while a customer is speaking mid-order, signaling to them that he’d be right back with his pointer finger.

They wave him off politely to attend to his vital duties, but if he were you in that situation, you would have to be dealing with all kinds of bitching and moaning.But yet somehow, in some way, Mingi had the same effect on customers as he did to you.

Maybe it was the black and white suited uniform your boss made him wear for business. But for you it was the face card, his sterling silver jewelry, and hot pink taper haircut that was the most effective.

“Yo, boss!” Besides the shivers that trickle down your spine from his baritone vocals, his informal acknowledgement to your boss makes you cringe. The last thing you need is to be overstimulated by more of your bosses obnoxious yelling.

He approaches shortly right next to you to face your boss who stands near the exit.

With a tight-lipped smile, your boss inhales a deep breath as he tilts his head kindly toward you. An exhale follows when he turns it back toward the discourteous and taller man next to you. “You never fail to meet my expectations Mingi.”

With a light nod, Mingi remarks, “My pleasure boss man, no need for the formalities.” He then gives you a small elbow jab as he smiles in his egocentric joy.

“I'll have you know they aren’t positive…’boss boy’.”

The most awkward stare-off you’ve ever been in the middle of begins, given that your weren’t in very many.“Oh…” Mingi mumbles.

You spare a side glance to watch as his prominent chest sinks in, shooting his previous confidence to plummet to rock bottom. He catches you looking at him teasingly, shamefully averting his eyes from your warring grin.

"Oh is right. Now, as I was going to say...", your boss announces, "’I’ve been calling on the both of you so often this morning, and it’s because I’m going to have to leave you guys alone for closing tonight."

As if your heart wasn't drumming against your chest from standing next to your work crush, or being yelled at by your boss on an hourly basis, it kicks you in harder at an extraordinarily fast rate.

There was no way you could psychologically endure the rest of the night by being alone at Mingi’s side for several hours.

Your boss continues on to reveal, "I’ve gotta stay at home with the wife. There’s a huge chance of her going into labor at any time is what the doctor is saying.” You smile and nod from your coherent understanding of home, wife, doctor, and baby.

“That’s understandable boss, you comment sweetly, I hope she delivers safely, and that you both have a healthy child.”

Mingi nods in agreement, using the moment as a chance to extend out his large hand for your boss's to clasp, triggering the jingling of his chained ring. “You’re already the best father of the year my man!” It’s not as shocking when the jingling sounds once more as Mingi’s hand falls back down, sulking in the denial from your boss.

“I appreciate that Mingi…really.” A chain of keys is slid effortlessly out of your boss's Carhartt jacket pocket, then seamlessly thrown backward into your clutch. “Y/n, you’ll hold the keys, and you will be left responsible to assist in locking things down tonight.”

Mingi takes a step forward and gestures to himself with his hands and an offended face proclaims, “Yo- I mean, boss…what about me?I’m right here.”

“I see that.”, your boss sarcastically remarks.“Keep tabs on Y/n, and help her if she needs it.”Mingis facial expression is like a gaping fish’s mouth out of water, suffering and speechless.

With no remorse your boss turns the other direction. After a few steps he naturally opens the bar door to let a customer inside, displaying a storming parade of heavy rain.

“You’re lucky I don’t fire your ass Song, but you keep those customers flowing in like a frat boy chugging a keg tube!” The door jingles as he finally takes his leave right out the exit, closing you in with inescapable temptations.

“Idiot…, you whisper, “why do you have to be that way around him?”, you shake your head in disapproval to the upset and adorable duck faced man.

He whines childishly to your dismay. Without a choice in the matter, he walks behind you as you both make your way back to awaiting customers that are dinging the bell obnoxiously at the bar.

“What did I even say wrong?” Mingi approaches the customer whose order was inconveniently interrupted, and seated closely from your group intervention.

“Beats me.”, the customer says in between laughter.

...

Today was your first day working at the pub without a boss.

Unfortunately, today of all days- did they leave you alone to deal with drunk customers and your seemingly impossible- newfoundingly attractive, and sober coworker, Song Mingi.

When the evening begins to roll in leading to what might be a fateful night, things began to get a lot more hectic.

As per usual, there are the guys who come in after a bad day, a troubling situation, or a bad life. Mainly because of work or a partner they need to shake off. A drink or many was the anecdote to temporarily forget.

A customer attempts to sit on a bar stool as he tramples around it before managing to successfully put at least half his ass on it. "The music in here…”, he groans with both hands on his head, “it s-sucks man!"

Mingi approaches him with care and interest, but no regard for his behavior. It’s the same as he would treat any other customer.

"I’ve been telling the boss man to let me DJ y’know? But he likes to go on about what I play is too loud." Mingi then begins to mock your bosses voice in a fairly amusing attempt, using air quotes with his long fingers for emphasis. "Anyway, he isn’t here with us tonight…thank goodness.”

The last bit he says under his breath, but not anything you can’t hear from preparing drinks beside him while he takes orders.

“Oh! you mean-you mean that old dude?!” The drunken man says in realization as he lets out an ungraceful burp. "He doesn’t know anything about what’s hot in today’s music!” in a dramatic motion, he swirls his finger in the air and pointed directly at Mingi."Turn on that good shit pinky!”

After some pre-contemplated thought, Mingi gladly makes his way to the end of the bar, raising his hand to signal the DJ for the cue.

He’s quick to pull it down when he senses you approaching behind him, smiling timidly as he turns to face you. "Play something club worthy at least, that’s my only request." You shrug your shoulders and step aside from behind him, walking back toward the front end without a care.

"If only the boss heard that come from your mouth. He'd never believe me in a billion years.", he whispers.

Mingi does a few hand signals you couldn't effectively translate, but upon hearing the cue of “club-worthy music” play through the speakers, you realize the DJ perfectly understood.

The drunken man stands up quickly from the stool, utilizing the bar top for stability. It was when he moved away from the bar top that concerned you when he began to trip over his own feet again. For the upteenth time Mingi leans over the counter and grabs his fore arms to help him keep balance.

At times, he was sweet in that way.

The drunken man widely grins as he once again points at Mingi. "I like you, and-and I really like this alcohol.” He points up his finger twirling it around in the air as if he was casting a magic spell. “Give me a round of shots for this whole bar Pinky!"

A uproar of excitement from all across bar powers over the music. The man rises from his stool to cheer with them, uplifting his hands like he was given the role of a God.

‘Surely…,’ you thought, ‘after this night ends, that man will wake up in the early morning to dial the line of his bank. Considering the fact we’re getting busy as the hours tick by.’

…

Every workshift would be uneventful if your customers didn't come in variety packs.

There were the Cougars. Middle-aged women trying to keep up with the times, so time doesn't catch up with their age.

Said one of many women walks up to greet you both at the bar in a sultry walk. Possibly in hopes of causing a swarm of bees to get a taste of her special made honey.

The essence of Mingi captures her eye however, and she decides to sit in a stool that so happened to be free right in front of him.

Her tight leather leopard print pants stretches as she moves with every inch. She looks downward when seated to shimmy her gargantuan boobs on the counter while wearing a matching top that holds in the drooping.

As flamboyant as the cougars usually are, it was a necessity for her to top everything off with a long lion trench coat that she moves behind her to suit properly.

You continue making the drink for the rounded tables while Mingi deadpans at her in a standstill behind the counter, paying no mind to the display she's trying to showcase.

"You know"...she begins, squishing in her boobs with no need for adjustment, "I usually don’t go for just any young man… ‘specially the ones with pink hair", she adds. "But you might’ve just changed my mind hot stuff.”

Her hands smooth over her chest for another time, yet they travel inside the top she was wearing.

Out of it, she pulls out a thick wad of folded bills, racing her hand forward to Mingis front pocket. In the boldest way possible she grabs hold of his tie and inserts the cash and pats in securely in his chest. She even goes the extra step to tuck the tie back in, smoothing the now wrinkled material with her Y2K duck nails.

You’re stunned as you watch Mingi immediately take hold of her wrist decorated in a forearms full of pandora bracelets. “Let me change it again for you, sweet pea."

The nickname took the lady aback, as it did the same for you. If only it was directed at you, but in a different context, it makes any bad day better again.

“That guy right over there...”, he continues, pointing to one of the younger men that come in often- ‘a bad life’ you think. “he’s been wanting to buy you a drink ever since he got here.”

As she turns her head in the point of Mingi’s direction, he carefully releases go of her wrist carefully to not cause a mishap. “He’s kinda hot”, she says fanning herself with the loose hand, "Oh...but are you sure you won’t be upset sweetheart?”

Mingi lets out a light laugh, shaking his head no in the most nicest way possible. “Not at all pretty lady. I can’t interfere with potential love at first sight.”

She thinks for a moment and sighs when a decision was made. In moments she gets up from her stool to readjusts her previous adjustments. Pants, boobs, and the train of her fur coat.

For the first time she looks at you, and then Mingi again. In her mind you can tell she read over something in you that you couldn’t comprehend. But your instincts tells you, she knew something. “You’re a cute little fella. Keep that pink hair going, I just know somebody’s gonna love pulling that at night.”

Her smile grows wide as she waves in your direction, "Bye, honey. “I hope those drinks aren't the only thing you'll be mixin' up with tonight… if you know what I mean."

Oh, you knew.

You were nerve-wracked for Mingi to think the same with different feelings, unattracted ones. "Wow…and to think she isn't even drunk yet.", Mingi mutters as you both watch the pair initiate conversations.

“Was he really wanting to buy her a drink?”, you asked in curiosity.

“Nah, he’s been looking around for someone for the past half hour, and she obviously need some attention so…perfect match.”

"You are absurdly evil sir." You gaze at Mingi’s stark figure with his eyes trained on the new couple.

You take the time to admire his side profile, thinking about how his nose could fit into small spaces. Or how his lips could suck-

“I prefer to be called Cupid.” He turned his head to meet your hypnotic gaze, winking at you in surprise.

To your shock, and even Mingis, the next hour consisted of the couple grooving and grinding on the dance floor. Right after that skipped out in each others arm with a chime for the exit door.

“Cupid it is.”

“Ditto.”

…

The final boss, your mortal enemies, the hot girl groupies.

They always arrive together knit in arm, and they settle down at the front end rounded tables. In the midst of their original conversation they all catch a glance at the sexy bartender across the room.

Separately, one by one, they all come up to order drinks with an underlying mission to capture the thing inside Mingi’s pants. The success rate is usually zero.

A young woman, both your ages, walks up quick with confidence from her groups table. As much as you hate to admit, her white halter top and denim-distressed booty shorts could do a number on your chances.

What makes things worse is that at this time of night, the led pink lights come on. Which means the hues of Mingi’s spiky hair becomes more fluorescent than it is in the morning light. It brings on too much attention, and a great cause of more distraction from your duties.

As the cougar has done earlier, she leans over counter with to forge her boobs to the front of her chest. Except…she was a lot more obvious about her intentions.

She flicks her chin toward you, smacking her gum with a popping jaw. “She your girlfriend?”

Mingi looks back to see you flustered from the unwanted attention. You were supposed to make drinks and give it to him, to give to her. No where in that interaction were you supposed to be involved in any conversation besides complaints about the drinks.

He gives you an attractive smile with his full lips, tracking your face and body with his eyes. “Nah, she’d be lucky if she was though.” What kills you is that Mingi maintains the eye contact with you and not the girl. It pissed her off and you as well in a sense. Although on the inside did you feel so fucking confident.

Mingi’s way with words uplifted your self esteem from time to time. But damn was the girl in front of him furious, her self esteem was depleting, and so she had to resort in ringing the bell in desperation to redirect Mingis focus.

“Can I please get a strawberry lime margarita…and with a little sugar around the rim too, please? I like licking around the tip of it y’know?“ She traces the counter top in circles with the tip of her finger, flickering her tongue as she holds eye contact. “ It makes my tastebuds really happy…”

He repeats the order- the strawberry lime margarita with a sugar rimmed part. "Strawberry lime Margarita with a crystalized sugar rim.” He writes it down but doesn’t hand it to you like usual, instead he tells you to step aside so he can make it himself.

You could tell the hot girl loved that by the way she bit her lip while Mingi mixed things together. When he’s finished, he slides the drink onto the counter and directly in front of her chest. “Your drink that you ordered.”

Her focus doesn’t even land on the drink because she’s so caught up in his physique. "It looks perfect! Thank you, um…” she looks over his suit for a name tag to notice there wasn’t one. A open opportunity for what she’ll say next-“…what did you say your name was?”

"Well… I don’t recall you asking but-.” he leans over-the-counter, interlining his fingers on both of his hands as he looks her deep in eyes, “Mingi. If you must know."

The girl leans forward and cups Mingi by the chin, which he shows no discomfort in feeling. “You’d be lucky if I was your girlfriend, Mingi.”

“Oh yeah?…, He reaches up to pull her hand and hold it in his, pulling it toward his lips which you have to look away from to withhold any rotten jealousy. "Looks like I’ll be unlucky for the rest of my life then.”

You nearly twist your neck to see the baffled look on the woman’s face, she yanks her hand away and pulls her drink off the counter, spilling the slushy ice of the margarita on her sparkling white halter.

The girls from her table gasp as they watch the scene from afar, they all urge her to move to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“Stupid jerk!” She says wailing, shivering as the blended ice falls onto her porcelain skin, making her top all red under the hot pink lighting. She looks at you as she speeds away to the bathroom and mutters, "What a waste."

It could've been the drink she spilled that made her say that, but eye contact conveyed her non-verbal message. The only problem is that you were there, and in the way. Perhaps she and Mingi might have had a chance without your presence as a scapegoat.

Mingi rises back up, straightening his broad back into place. As there were no other customers at the counter, he turned back to you and continued to give you that distinguished look as he leant back on the bartop. "I meant what I said about you though. Luck doesn't knock twice."

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REWIND

Life had became so boring to you that you fix your attention on other people’s happiness instead of manifesting your own.

It was a never ending thought, one that you wanted to escape from for just a moment. Which in turn lead you to sit on some pubs bar stool.

You watch the bartender come from the back with blinding hot pink hair, as much as that set him apart, you recognize the personality of his character. He was unapologetically himself and so helpful at the same time.

His hand was so fluid with every drink he mixed and poured over into the glass cups. Not to mention, he looked delicious in the pink lighting and his semi-formal undersuit.

After minutes of patiently waiting in your stool with no rushed timing, it lets you feen more to linger at his stature until he struts quickly to your stool.

“How ya doin today babe?”He arrives with a pen and pad, prepared to write down the contents of your order.

“Life could be better”, you reply nonchalantly with shrugged shoulders, “I suppose that’s why I’m here.”

He leans in to be more attentive, weighing his palm on the bar’s countertop with furrowed brows which were a lighter pink. “Well I hope that at least for the time you’re here, I can make it better.”

You blush as you fight off a geeky smile from taking up the entirety of your face. “I hope so too.”

You weren’t looking at him, but he let a smile just as big reveal on his own. He was so fawn that someone as pretty as you blushed because of him.

“Well, It’s a Thirsty Thursday and our special is an island vibe. It’s a blue sugar rock sour cocktail with vanilla whip shots.” He pulls out a menu from his so side to push it in front of your sulken body. “If that's not something that gives your interest a peak, then what can I get for you to drink?”

You've heard him reuse the line with multiple customers which made it easier to decide if you want the drink or put in a different order. As next in line you had your mind made up, but his presence and being the current customer has you contemplating your decisions again.

"I don't know what I want, what do you have please?"

He blinks at the menu and looks reluctantly behind him at the array of alcoholic drinks and mixers on the shelf. Then pointing to the tap on the bar. "Well what do you like doll face? I'll make you anything you ask me to babe."

The intimate nickname alters the nerves in your brain to make a unanimous decision, but at least you know what you don’t want. "I don't need anything strong because I need the energy. I prefer any of sweet drinks you have.”

“Oh I see.”, he says nodding slowly, likely because he’s encountered your type before. “How does something like a pina colada, a Mai tai, or a strawberry daiquiri sound for you babe?”

More decision making. The thing in your life that hasn’t exactly been your forte. You sigh, covering your stupidity with a small smile. “Can I just get all 3?"

“Damn…”, he trails off, scratching the back of his head which in result creates more spikes. “That is a lot of energy…but I got you babe, coming right up.”

“Yeah it's just that type of night, I guess”, you mumble, mainly to yourself. He leaves to pull on a pair of black gloves. He begins walking away to make your drinks but you stop him in his tracks.

He turns his head swiftly and walks backward to lean in with a close ear. You grow flustered at such a caring action, whispering your additional request. “Can I also get that special too please?” “Sorry…”

"Of course!” He says with a polite grin, “anything to make your night a little bit sweeter.” His piercing eyes leaves yours with two taps of his fingers on the bars top to go make all four drinks.

He later sets out a platter for your drinks and describes the flavors and mixes, even though you've seen every step with your never ending stare, but how good did it feel just to hear him talk.

“Thank you, they all look so pretty.”

He shrugs in shoulders lightly from the slight embarrassment that stems from your compliment. “I just wanted to see your eyes brighten up and that genuine smile, you look so upset coming in here.”

Your act was tucked behind the curtains as soon as he brought your true emotions into the light. “I was. But I’m better now because of you, thank you.” You lift up the specialty drink, offering the sweet cotton candy haired bartender a cheers.

He reveals a wide tooth smile, one that you found adoring to compliment his handsome nature. “No problem. It’s what I aim to do.” He waves you off as he walks away to assist other customers. Later that night he comes back to wipe down the countertops, finishing last next to you.

You let out a deep, heavy breath and his attention was focused on your contentment from how good the drinks were. The room around you feels fuzzy as you began to grow tipsy, smiling like a maniac with whip cream and sugar on your lips.

“Did that hit the spot?,” he asks with a cute giggle.

“Hellllll yeah.” It was obvious the drinks had an instant effect, considering you chugged them all within a fifteen minute period.

In between shakes of the towel and drying his hands, he giggles once more as his eyes scans over your face. “Speaking of spots…you do got a little something right here.” He uses his thumb to swipe his own lips, explaining where he sees it on yours.

You mimic him, scooping bits on your fingers and licking the clean with your tongue. “Is it gone?”, you slur in a whine, growing sad to think you looked silly in the vulnerable state you were in.

He chuckles and shakes his head know as he points out more residue using himself as reference. “No sweetheart, here too.”

“Am I good now?”

It’s not gone, and he knows it, smiling goofily. “Looking sweet sugar.”

You smile with closed eyes likely because you’re so relaxed from the chilled drinks. You open your eyes in awe to the upbeat scenery and meet the bartenders eyes again, seeing he was already staring at you. “Are you guys hiring by any chance?”

“Yeah! We could definitely use another bartender, but the boss man is picky. Were you thinking about joining the crew?”

“If that’s okay with your boss then sure”, you shrug.

“I can make it okay.” He drags his hand from the bar top and holds up his hand to signal for you to hold tight. I’ll be right back sugar.” You watch him disappear to the back. Before you didn’t recognize it, but you feel yourself sadden again as you realize he was actually nice company.

A man, shorter and yet broader emerged from the back rooms. He surveyed the area until he spots you, pausing like he found what he was watching for.

“Are you this young lady I’m hearing great things about from this boy?” You nearly choke as you began to sober up, recollecting all sense of intellect you’ve lost from four alcoholic drinks.

“That I am.” You state enthusiastically while clearing your throat. How do I have the pleasure of knowing you?”

“I own the place, and I heard you were interested in the bartenders position.” You gape subtly at Mingi who stands behind one the wall, prompting you a supportive thumbs up.

“Oh y-yeah absolutely. I’m new in town and I’m looking for a fresh start. Hopefully at a fine working establishment like yours.”

“You got experience as a bartender?”

“Uh… “Mingis encourages you to continue with beckoning hands, then hiding behind the wall when his boss takes a look back to what you seem so lost in. “No, I do not.”

“So then, do you want to learn?”

You shake your head affirmatively without a thought. “Yes, of course! If I was given the opportunity.”

The muscle headed man ponders your interview like exchange. He walks away to the back once more before coming out with a feminine version of the bartenders uniform. “Come back here tomorrow at the same time you came in today, and with this uniform on.”

“Oh, thank you so much!”

“You’re not hired yet dollface.”

You wipe the smile clean off your face and nod like you have a great understanding of what you are exactly. “Right.”

The boss walks away once again to the back and Mingis cross paths naturally to meet you back at the counter. “Don’t worry, you are 100% hired.”

You cock your head to the side, blinking at a rapid pace to organize the thoughts in your mixed up mind. “But he literally just said I wasn’t?”

“He never hands out a uniform to just anyone babe. Then he told you to come back the very next day? He sees potential inside of you.”

You marvel in his excitement for you. It was like he pleaded for you to to be given the chance. “It’s all because of you, I cant thank you enough.”

“I’ll accept you coming in tommorow as a good enough thank you. Don’t let me down sugar.”

The next night you came in at the exact same time, with your formal button up blouse and trousers. You got to stand next to Mingi behind the counter as he gave you hands on training experience.

Even thought you were nearly drunk, you were lucky to land the job so easily. With the spontaneous opportunity you hoped to get closer to where you wanted to be.

Although meeting Song Mingi already led you off to a great start.

...

“Mingi get down before you buss that dense head open! I just wiped the damn counter down.”

You thought after that all the chaos and havoc would be gone after closing, but now and still is your coworker acting worse than all of the absurd customers put together.

He was standing on the countertop and jerking out pelvic thrust in mid air with a bitten lip.

“Mingi!”, you shout. He seemed to had finally get the hint as he climbed down. But he still remained on the countertop sitting with his legs over the edge.

“Sugar. Babe. It’s a Saturday night and we are the only ones here.” He holds onto your shoulders gently and peers into your eyes, stopping you from the unnecessary cleaning of already clean surfaces. “We can do whatever we want. You know that right?”

You peer back at him, nearly hypnotized to agree to every word that left his mouth. “Yeah sure. You mean you can do whatever you want, and I take the fall for it?”

You shrug his grip from you shoulders and step back with the towel in hand. “Okayyy, I get that boss man left you in charge. But we work at a bar that also has an entire kitchen behind it, and a freaking dance floor.”

Mingi gets down completely to stand closer in front of you peering down into your eyes once again. “I mean cmon, if i was in charge-“

“In which, thank goodness you’re not.”

He deadpans as you cut him off, but remains relentless in his persuasion. “Don’t you wanna let loose a little bit babe? “I mean, while we still have the chance.”

It was a exciting thought, to ‘let loose a little bit’, and you know how Mingi is always the life to a dead party, even when it was just you two.

With his charm you are coerced to give up and throw your hands on the air without any cares to give. “Fuck it.” Mingi cheers and jumps like he’s on trampoline with no control. “But, stop doing that! And because this is your idea, I’m not cleaning up after, deal?”

Mingi chuckles and stops immediately but proceed into a small harmless dance. “Yeah sure, no biggie. He waves your condition off blatantly as you try your best to master a stare that was intimidating, but you honestly didn’t have it in you. It’s party time sugar, Woohoo!”

Mingi swings an imaginary cowboy lasso in the air, turning his back to presumably wander to the kitchen to grab a few things.

“Here’s some of the hard stuff, and I know you might not want to drink it because of your sweet tooth. But I think it’s time you could stop being a baby, and party like an adult tonight.”

You spot the array of said hard drinks, none you see are keen to your liking. “I only drink the sweet stuff because it doesn’t hit as hard. Three shots of whiskey and I’ll start having out of body experiences.”

“That’s why you have to balance it, sugar lips.” He places a shot glass down. “One shot,” and with the other hand another glass. “One water.”

MANY SHOTS AND MANY WATERS LATER…

“I’m gonna throw up. I’ll be back, I’m going to the ladies room.” After some much-needed relief, you come back to the front of the bar soured by a special aroma.

You were going to ask Mingi what the smell was until you saw him and began to connect the dots.

“You perve! Don’t just stand there looking at me!” Your pervertedness came into play by staring at Mingi placing pepperonis over his shirt where his nipples are.

You shake your head and sit at the stool across from where he stood behind the counter. “Why would I bother looking at you, you’re a walking man child.”

“My mom thinks it funny…” He walks to the back counter to grab a round tray and settles it down between the both of you at the front counter. “Care for some pizza? It’s fresh.”

You’re quick to grab a piece, you could eat anything to fulfill your empty stomach. “Holy shit that’s hot!”, you flick your tongue, tumbling the burning ingredients in your mouth.

Mingi pays no mind as he’s busy swirling his tongue out for cheese, wrapping the muscle around the lengthy pull.

You watch him tentatively with his flexible he could move the muscle, another dangerous cause for distraction.“You’re still an idiot, even when drunk.”

He takes the first bite of his slice aas he bends his head downward to look at you fanning your burnt tongue. “Who says I’m drunk?”

You place your slice down on the tray, waving your finger to Mingi. “Noooo, you’re definitely…drunk.” , you slur.

He giggles and adore you as you try and eat more slices. “Alright sugar, let’s take a break.” He fills another glass of water and brings it out from behind the counter with him for you. “Let’s dance.”

Mingi placed on some music from your boss’s jukebox given that the DJ left and packed up not long after closing. Assumingly for another gig.

He walks toward you and gently grabs your wrist. It was the most softened touch ever, but your tipsyness overrides your sensory abilities and you yank away from his hand. “Give me a second dude! Don’t you ever get tired?”

He doesn’t take you seriously but he backs off in respect. “Party doesn’t stop until you drop babe.”

You fully turn around in the stool, reassuring him that you didn’t need any help until your nearly fall flat on your face. Fortunately, with Mingis quick reflexes, he could both catch the glass of water and you before breaking yourselves on the marble-wooden floors.

As soon as you reached the dance floor Mingi handed the drink of water onto you and undressed into his button up with a few tabs unbuttoned.

The most random of songs began to play out of your bosses jukebox. A Spanish song with bongos, maracas, and horns began to sound on the overhead and controls the groove of Mingis body.

“Cmonnnn, stop it! You look ridiculous.”

He looked anything but. He dances in salsa, pacing his feet forward and backward as his shirt exposes a bit more of his chest.“We’re the only ones here! ‘Sides, I know you like what you see…” ,he licks the side of his mouth, doing a spin as he pokes out his butt in your direction.

You couldn’t help but spare the slightest glance, but he didn’t get the pleasure of seeing it. “I already told you what I see when I look at you.”

“Yeah, when I had pepperoni nipples! Now you get to see the real things.” He does another spin move that allowed him to take off his shoes smoothly. He cha-chas while backing away, beckoning you to follow him with his two fingers.

It looked as if something else was conjuring as you gained in proximity, like he was alluring you into an inescapable trance.

“Ugh…get a grip, I’m not gonna keep chasing you.”

Your wrist is indeed gripped by him. In a pose of salsa duo, he pulls you tightly into his chest. “Gotcha.”

You were spunned, twirled, and even tossed in the air before you finally grew tired and Mingi decided to go solo. You got a hold of that much needed water and nearly downed it in one go.

You were gonna go back in for the remaining bit until you saw Mingi thrusting wildly and a wicked idea crossed your mind. In a playful manner you began to hype him up and you almost felt guilty for what you were about to do when you saw his gorgeous smile. But you do it anyway, and you’d do it again if you could see his soaking wet man tiddies.

He freezes in surprise, mouth agape as he looks down at his own body.“What you do that for?”

“Well I didn’t have any money…I was just cheering you on.”

Mingi scoffs, not believing a word you said to be reasonable. “Fine then. It’s your turn. He steps away to bask in the embarrassment you might feel in your performance. But inconsistently for him you were boosted by liquid courage. “That way it’s fair and square.”

“Whatever…deal.”

For your performance you wanted to convey a different vibe. To go through the list of songs, selecting Britney Spears, “I’m a Slave 4 u” as your pick.

You sway you hips side to side as you get in the rhythm, snapping your fingers along to the kickbacked drums.

♫ I know I may come off quiet, may come off shy.

But I feel like talking feel like dancing when I see this guy. ♫

During the lyrics you pull Mingi off from off the wall, and onto the VIP sections couch.

♫ What’s practical? What’s logical? What the hell who cares?

All I know is I’m so happy when you’re dancing there. ♫

Your arms wrap behind Mingis neck, and you boldly climb onto the couch with your knees on the side of his thunder thighs.

♫Baby, don’t you wanna…dance upon me? To another time and place.

Oh baby, don’t you wanna…dance upon me. Leave behind my name and age. ♫

You roll your hips mid air above his private to withhold any boundaries, feeling on his upper body in drunk fun while he stretches his arm on top of the furniture to watch the show in relaxation.

“I bet those dumb girls couldn’t give it to you like this right? Offering their bodies to you for you to please and nothing else. Selfish bitches.”

Mingi cocks his head in amusement. From the beginning to now you’ve been full of surprises.“Sugar…are you jealous baby?”

You sigh and pause as the song continues to maintain its sensual stance. “Yeah, so what? How would you feel if I had almost every single guy that came in here wanting to screw me?

You smooth your hand over his upper body once again, playing timidly with the flaps of his button up. “You probably think you could do so much better than them huh?”

He smirks with his quirked plush pink lips. “I know I can. But I can show you better than I can tell you pretty. Can you do better than those women say they can?”

You reflect his same expression, adding a quirked brow for a challenge. “I can show you better than I can tell you pinky.”

You lower yourself to move in closer to his lips, and you both meet each other half way, kissing personally in harmony.

In nervousness you pull away, contemplating the rushed fuse of your actions. “I didn’t, I don’t know if-“

“It’s okay sugar.” He smooths a hand delicately over your head. “I want you to show me. If you want to…can you show me? Please?”

You nod, advancing to your next move of running your hand between his chest and unbutton his shirt. At the last button you free it open revealing his slim waist, your relentless temptations enables you to feel it tense at your gentle touch.

You peer at him through doll eyes, growing shy from the intensive heat of the moment. “How far do you want this to go?”

He cocks his head while biting his lip, bringing up his fingers to lift up your chin. “I think I recall a little birdie saying they hope drinks weren’t the only thing you were mixing up with tonight.”

“Mmmm.” you hum playfully. “I also think the little birdie said someone would love pulling this at night too.” You run your fingers through his soft scalp, sticking up the colored short hairs.

“And an early bird…” he shifts his bulge up against your core, “gets the worm.”

A surge in your body makes you reckless in ripping off his pants, and he does a master job of taking them off his ankles with his feet which you fairly helped with.

You sat up to grow rid of your clothes, sunken to your knees when you were skin and bare.

He was already up and rock hard, but to see you gawking at the size of him and it nearly covering the entirety of your face made him impossibly harder. You take him in immediately pulsing at the base of him.

He groans at your teasing, lifting your head up to bob it downward. You look in between your eyelashes as you swallow him with a stretched mouth. His head was tilted back as his mouth outputs pleasured whining. You squeeze onto his meaty thighs when he began to twitch. You were gonna take him there to his climax, but he stopped you in advance.

“I have condoms in my pockets. Inside you is where I want to be.”

You smile and cupped his face before giving him a chaste kiss. You reach down to grab his discarded pants and dig through his pocket to find the condom. Never had you have a partner that wore the greatest size. You thought it might’ve popped off given how large he truly was.

You waste no time climbing on top of him and directing the tip of him on the inside.

You both moan in unison with Mingis arms splayed on the couch, and yours in his shoulders for support. The muscles of his hips buck you upward and shaking in mid air.

He groans as he cheers your bouncing on with slaps to your ass. He cradles your boob in his large hand hook his mouth onto your nipple, blowing it softly to watch it erect. You feel them harden and soften with every suck and blow. It felt so good that is was painful.

With every deep thrust you both grew closer to climax with the slick stimulation. Mingi came as he whines from the surging shockwave, his thrusting comes to a slow with the will to get you in the same place. He pulls out, making the cum filled at the top of the rubber visible.

You fall over on his shoulder as he carefully flips you over. He spreads you open to access you inner flesh to slip in his chained ringed finger, and slurp up your clitoris like a rabid dog.

It only takes a matter of minutes to have you convulsing and pulling at his sweaty strands. Mingi slams your body back onto the cushion with no urge to stop until he feels you on his fingers and tongue.

“That’s right sugar. Give me all the sweetness you’ve got. Cum for me babe.”

A squelching noise indicates your means of arrival. Mingi releases you and removes his mouth. His chained ringed finger follows afterward, a string of your slick drags along your spongy walls.

Mingi marvels at the sight as he turns his hand, smiling wide as you look at him with low lids in effect of your orgasm. “I know you said for me to clean up afterwards… but I say we both made a mess no?”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Thank you for reading.

Much love,

xoxo

[gothcsz]

Dusk | No outbreak!Joel x Fem!Reader | ~8.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become a park ranger at a national park in California after breaking up with your ex. You meet Joel Miller, the chief ranger there, and find yourself absolutely smitten over him.

Tags: smut, attempted assault (not by joel), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), no use of Y/N, reader is a professor, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i wrote this during a long car ride in my notes app so i’m NAWT liable for any mistakes xoxo this is also my first attempt at writing joel so i hope i did our man justice 😋

You’ve always been an outdoorsy person. Girl scout as a child, camp counselor in your teens, camp manager in your twenties— and not to mention the plenty of solo camping trips you’ve taken and the amount of hikes you’ve trekked.

Then there’s your full time job as wildlife biology professor in New York.

Being out in nature is the only time you ever feel true, serene peace. Who would have thought? It keeps you healthy and entertained. Most of the hobbies you indulge in and skills you have revolve around being outdoors.

Becoming a park ranger had never been part of your plans, per se, but after a really messy engagement that ended with the wedding being postponed indefinitely and then being overwhelmed by your friends and family afterwards; you needed an out.

The offer to become a ranger at a national park in California came at the perfect time. You didn’t hesitate to sign on to the job, especially since it was being offered to you by a long-time close friend you had met online through a Hiking Tips & More! Facebook group.

So you packed as much as you needed and booked your flight from upstate New York to California.

You’d be stationed there for the summer and the pay was decent. Whatever, you weren’t too hung up on that detail since you are financially stable enough to take the pay cut for the next few months.

After going through the motions of getting registered and settling in at the local lodge themed motel, you use an afternoon to just take everything in. You’ve never had the pleasure to visit any of the parks on the west coast so this experience is extra exciting for you.

You’re already prepared yourself to do some birdwatching and to brush up on your botany knowledge.

Before you are assigned a location and station, it’s required for you to attend an orientation of sorts for the new cohort of rangers working for the summer.

The intent is to go over routines and day-to-day tasks. Most of the job you already know from when you got your certification before going to graduate school. You thought you would have the time to become a ranger then, but life had humbled you quickly so the certification was never put to use.

Until now.

It’s around 7 in the morning when you arrive to the meeting room at the national park. Others linger around but you make a beeline towards the coffee machine; absolutely needing your caffeine fix for the morning.

Definitely don’t forget to bring that with you. You went quite feral without caffeine— god forbid any man, or bear, come across you before you’ve had your cup of coffee.

You fix the drink as you always take it, realizing you’ve just emptied what was left in the glass container.

Not wanting to be the asshole that left everyone else with no coffee, you rummage through the cupboards until you find the container with the grounds and you brew more, doing your good deed for the day.

Blowing against the mug before bringing it up to your lips, you savor the taste and let out a content hum.

“Was that the last of it?”

Your attention immediately flits up at the sound of the deep, southern drawl that’s like honey to your ears.

Before you stands a unit of a man: tall, broad— rugged. He’s obviously older, the salt and pepper colors of his hair and beard complimenting both smile lines and frown wrinkles on his face.

Oh, he’s handsome as hell.

“U-Uh no— yes… Well I just put more in. Should be ready soon.” You flash him a small smile, mentally kicking yourself for stuttering like a fool. Suddenly, you’re aware of how unflattering the park ranger uniform looks on you.

He can’t say the same, clearly, since the collared shirt hugs him snugly across his triceps and shoulders, stretching across the broadness of his chest. There’s a few pins attached to his front, and that’s when you catch the golden glint of his metallic name tag.

J. Miller

He just nods in response, his gaze fixated on you, “I recognize most people here.… but not you. This your first rodeo as a ranger?”

Now it’s your turn to nod, “Yes, but not my first rodeo in the field. I got my certification a few years back but never got the chance to use it.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, the smell of the fresh brewing coffee hitting your senses. “Ah— I see. Figured you were new. I woulda definitely remembered a pretty face like yours.”

This has you blushing, hard, and biting down softly on your bottom lip. You can’t remember the last time someone had so openly flirted with you like this.

Your asshole of an ex-fiance quit complimenting you shortly after getting engaged. Come to think of it, most of the problems and red flags started happening after you got the ring on your finger.

Ugh, focus! You scold yourself. You have an attractive, out of your league man flirting with you and you’re here thinking of your shitty ex.

“Thank you. I think I would have remembered a face like mine, too.” You’ve never been good at receiving compliments, so you do what you do best and use humor to navigate the conversation.

He chuckles and immediately you’re wanting to hear more of that sound. It’s deep yet comforting and now you’re wondering if you’re being a weirdo for being attracted to a man’s laugh (amongst other things) like this.

You make small talk standing by the coffee machine as more people begin to trickle in. He tells you his name is Joel and that he’s been a park ranger for twenty years and a chief ranger for ten. He has a daughter named Sarah who’s in college further down in the state and you can tell just how much he cares about her by the way he dotes on her.

No mention of a wife or girlfriend, though. You don’t see a band on his finger… there’s no way this man is just walking around single like this.

In return, you tell him your name and some of your background (sans the trainwreck engagement) and he’s fascinated by the fact that you’re a professor.

His interest in you has butterflies fluttering in your stomach and it doesn’t help that he’s got the sexiest little Texan accent you’ve ever heard. Each word sending you deeper and deeper into this crush that has blossomed seemingly out of nowhere for a man you’ve just met.

Amidst the conversation that flows naturally between the two of you, there’s an aura of flirtation and attraction that the both of you seem to be reciprocating. Or at least you are. Hopefully you’re not reading this wrong.

Please don’t let me be reading this wrong.

It’s not until you both have finished your coffee that everyone arrives and he has to excuse himself.

Apparently he’s leading the orientation.

The entire time he’s giving his presentations and demonstrating safety procedures, you can’t help but ogle him.

He fits this career so well with how carries himself. Confident, steadfast, knowledgeable, fucking sexy. You just want to run your fingers through his curly, thick hair and tug on it while you ride the daylights out of him.

This sudden intrusive thought has you clenching your thighs together and that’s enough to get your focus back on the meeting and not how you want him to demolish you.

His forearm flexes, the veins protruding, as he demonstrates how to tie a tight and secure knot; his fingers moving dexterously against the rope.

Damn your dry spell and this attractive ass man.

The orientation concludes with everyone getting their assigned areas and tasks. Your folder is labeled 125.

“We’re on a two week on two week off schedule. You’ll spend two weeks manning your station before there’s a shift change. Daily tasks will be given during mornin’ check-ins along with any other pivotal information. Each camp has a binder with any additional information you will need alongside a long list of phone numbers and radio codes in case somethin’ goes awry. First shift report back here at 6 sharp tomorrow mornin’. Any further questions can be directed towards me or my partner Tommy.”

“Brother,” Tommy, who has been leaning against the wall this entire time, interjects with a playful grin and this has your brows quirking in both amusement and intrigue. He works with his younger brother. How cute.

“Yeah, yeah. That too.” Though it’s gruff, you can clearly pick up the lighthearted tone in Joel’s reply.

You want to stick around and talk with him some more, but you don’t want to come off as annoying so the second you’re all dismissed— you’re the first to be out of the room.

It’s not till you’re further down the hall that you hear your name being called out and turn to see Joel lightly jogging to catch up.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” You ask teasingly and you catch the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Not at all. Just wanted to make sure you were okay with your assignment.” You hadn’t even looked at the folder that he had passed to you during the meeting. It had all the information about your post.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You open the file and see a small map with your area circled in red sharpie. You see the surnames of all the other park rangers littered about on the page; and then you see Miller written by the fire lookout closest to yours.

“I gave you a smaller area since it’s your first time out here and all,” He scratches at his jaw, as if he’s almost nervous to be telling you this, “Once you get the hang of it, which ‘m sure will be in no time, I’ll put ya somewhere more… challengin’.”

It’s sweet, this gesture of his. Easing you into the job. If it had been anyone else, you would have defended your skillset and wit and demanded to be put somewhere ‘challenging’, but since it’s Joel you don’t think twice about it.

“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for this.” You smile up at him as you close the folder and he matches the expression, making him look boyish as his sweet brown eyes catch yours.

“No problem, darlin’. See you tomorrow mornin’?”

Or we can go back to my motel room, get to know each other a little bit better?

“See you tomorrow morning.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

You finish packing the rest of your things before heading out for your first shift on the job.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you straighten out your uniform and fix your neatly braided hair before exiting the stuffy motel room.

You wouldn’t be so hung up on your appearance had it not been for the attractive DILF that’s suddenly overtaken every inch of your mind.

You haven’t stopped thinking about him since meeting him yesterday. He seems so sweet and kind; but also with a ruggedness that makes you wonder what kind of lover he is.

Is he a giver or does he only focus on getting himself off? Does he bite and leave marks? Does he prefer his women being bent over or on top of him?

Yeah, you definitely need to go outside and touch some grass.

This entire experience feels like a new beginning, a chance to reinvent yourself before flying back home and starting the new semester.

Your cab takes longer than expected to arrive at the motel, which in turn makes you late to showing up at the meeting spot.

When you burst through the doors, breathing heavily, your heart sinks at the sight of an empty room and you berate yourself for not allotting extra time for mishaps.

“Thought you got cold feet.”

You jump in your spot and whip around to face the handsome jump scare.

Joel is leaning against the counter on the back wall, arms crossed over his chest making the fabric of his button up shirt stretch obscenely over his toned upper body.

“Can’t be too jumpy out in the woods, darlin’. ‘S how you get got.”

“Fuck— sorry. My cab ran late, which isn’t an excuse for my tardiness but—”

He chuckles with a shake of his head and that has the rest of your words hitching in your throat.

“Relax, s’okay. All is right. Everyone else is already situated out there. Figured I’d hang back in case you showed. Didn’t really think you’d bail. Don’t seem like the type.”

You’re relieved, to say the least, that he’s taking mercy on you despite not liking the fact that he has to.

You’re a professional, running late is out of character for you. Even if it was due to a circumstance you couldn’t control.

You let your shoulders drop, pairing the action with a soft sigh. “Thank you. It won’t happen again. I’m more than ready to start the day.”

He studies you for a brief moment with an unreadable expression and it makes you self conscious. Is there something on my face? Is my hair sticking out somewhere?

“Okay. C’mon, let me drive you to your station.” He pushes himself off the counter and you follow him out of the cabin-styled building and to his ranger truck that has the park’s name printed on it in bold letters.

“Nice ride.” You say as you slide into the cab of the truck, setting your large backpack in the back seat.

He mutters out a brief thanks before starting the vehicle and pulling out into the rocky terrain of the park.

You can’t help the look of awe on your face as you stick your head out of the rolled down window to take in the view.

The picturesque peak of the mountain ranges surrounded by lush greenery is breathtaking and it only makes you more excited to have some alone time in the midst of it all.

What you don’t see, though, is the way Joel keeps stealing glances at you. He thinks you’re so beautiful, especially with how entranced you are by the natural setting.

You finally make it to the small area of your camp and he helps you settle in to the small structure that’ll be your home for the next two weeks.

It consists of a twin bed, bedside table, a small desk with your equipment on it and a lamp.

Very home-y. You really only got the place for the view.

“Thanks for the ride… and for waiting for me back there.” You tell him, adjusting the backpack strap against your shoulder.

“S’not a problem at all. I’m posted up a few miles north so that makes us neighbors.”

“Well, if I need some sugar or something— I’ll make sure to stop by.” You tease and this gets a chuckle out of him which has your heart soaring.

“Alright, sugar, you radio me or anyone else if you need anythin’’.”

“I will.”

⛰️ 🏕️ 🪓 🐻 ☀️

The first week goes by like a breeze. You spend most of your days hiking around your assigned area to make sure everything is as normal as it can be out here.

You tend to your daily tasks, listening along to your audiobooks. Taking in the scenery. You even find the time to explore some of the various native flowers and plants that bloom here.

It’s peaceful and exactly what you needed.

You come to discover that while you were already attracted to the sound of Joel’s deep, honeyed southern voice; you were even more attracted to it over the distortion of the radio.

Every morning you’re greeted by it during task assignments and when he gives the weather forecast for the day.

Every afternoon you hear it when he checks-in through the walkie talkie.

Every night you hear it when he does roll call to make sure everyone is alright and present.

Those are the only times you’re able to really communicate with him. You’re both so busy dealing with the job during the day then bone tired by night to really make anything out of the attraction that lingers.

And boy does it linger. You’ve never been this worked up over a man… like ever. Even with your ex the infatuation had never been this intense.

The sex with him was fine. Normal. Vanilla. The lovers you had before him were all a variation of the same thing.

So the bar was in hell— literally. That’s probably why you’re so obsessed with wanting Joel Miller to fucking destroy you.

You’re on the way back to your camp for the day when you come across a clearing, four men camping out of various tents.

“Park ranger here. Just making my rounds. Are you guys well?”

You smile politely at them, watching as they eye you up and down then suddenly— you’re feeling uncomfortable in your own skin.

“Better now. You out here all alone, sweetheart?”

You clock the pervy tone in his voice immediately, clenching your jaw but trying to keep an aura of professionalism.

You’re required to carry a gun and a taser, for obvious reasons, but not once did you ever think you would actually have to use it.

Yet with the way these men are staring at you like you’re a piece of meat— you’re really resisting the urge to let your hand hover over the weapon.

“Heading back to my partner now. You guys have a good night.” You lie with a forced smile that pains your lips as you turn from them, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as you can.

No way are you revealing that you are, in fact, alone with the nearest help being miles away.

“Oh c’mon, baby, stay a while.” A different man calls out and you can hear them following after you.

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of them actually following you all the way back to your camp. Your location is marked on most of the maps that are posted around the area, in case of emergencies, but now you’re hyperaware that they could just go look for it and find you in no time.

Swallowing thickly, you trek forward and continue to ignore their catcalls until suddenly one of them has got a tight hold on your forearm and yanks you back against his chest.

You let out a squeal of surprise mixed with fear. Your only saving grace right now is your giant backpack since it keeps you from being flush against him.

“Get your hands off me!” You struggle against his iron grip, trying to use your free hand to reach for your weapon but he twists the arm he does have in his hold, and it renders you immobile.

You wince at the pain, adrenaline coursing through you as you hear his three other friends join and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what demise you’re about to meet.

You’re so fucking afraid so you channel that fear to kickstart your flight or fight— choosing both as you lift your foot then slam it down harshly against your captors foot.

Thank god for these heavy ass hiking boots.

The hit does enough to loosen his grip on you just enough for you to shimmy out; using the fleeting seconds you have to knee him in the balls before you take off running.

You hear them screaming profanities at you, calling you a “cunt” “bitch” “whore” amongst many other things. They’re relentless as you hear twigs snapping and leaves crushing beneath their running footsteps.

Your backpack is hindering you at this point so you unbuckle the straps that run across your chest and discard of it quickly, changing course to try and throw them off your trail.

You don’t know how long you run or where you run to, now completely lost as the last hint of sunlight disappears behind the mountains.

You don’t hear anyone chasing after you anymore but you’re not stupid enough to stop and check, so you do the next best thing which is to change your route again before finding solace behind a Giant sequoia tree.

Taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you slowly peek around the hefty trunk to see if they were still chasing after you.

They’re not.

Allowing yourself to feel relief, you lean back against the tree and close your eyes to keep the tears away.

Don’t cry— not now. You’re not completely out of the woods yet… ha!

You shake your head at your conscience, hands shaking as they reach for your walkie talkie to seek the help of the only man you want around you right now.

“Call to 121 from 125. Over.”

“121 to 125 on frequency 9. Over.”

You switch frequencies and immediately break procedure once you know it’s just you and Joel on the call.

“J-Joel? Do you copy? Over.”

Immediately he responds, worry evident in his voice.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you okay? Over.”

You take a second to calm down so you can concisely explain your situation.

“I was chased through the forest by a group of campers. I got disoriented, lost my bag, and now I-I’m lost and it’s so dark out. I need you to come find me. Or lead me to you… Over.”

“What do you see around you? Any distinctive characteristics? A trail? Over.”

He’s on high alert, getting methodical and procedural to suppress the rage he feels as your voice garbles through his walkie talkie.

You look around in desperation, flashlight in hand as you try to find anything that’ll pinpoint your location.

Nothing.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you weigh your options. You can walk around until you find something useful or stay put and wait who knows how long for Joel or those band of heathens to get to you.

He urgently calls your name through the walkie talkie when you don’t respond in a timely manner and you quickly snap out of your thoughts.

“N-No. Nothing. I’m going to keep walking until I find something. Over.”

“No. You have to stay put. ‘S dangerous out here at night. I’ll come to you. Over.”

“It’s dangerous during the day, too. I’m going. I’ll reach out to you when I find something… over and out.”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you turn your walkie off, the batteries were already running low earlier in the day so you have to limit your use on it before you’re left stranded and walkie talkie-less.

There were extra batteries in your backpack… fuck men and their ability to ruin everything.

You walk through the pitch black forest with your chin held high, faking bravery to avoid succumbing to the fear that’s rattling in your bones.

The mosquitos bite at you, insects chirping about, and in the distance you can hear a coyote howl.

If you don’t survive tonight because of men then you won’t survive because of mother nature.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, your exhaustion slowly catching up to you.

However, your ears perk at a low rumbling noise and your flashlight snaps in the direction in which you think you hear it coming from, your feet carrying you towards the source.

You damn near burst out in tears of joy once you see the large and beautiful waterfall that flows into the river below.

You radio Joel again, skipping the pleasantries and telling him your location.

You plop down on a bench that’s on the trail, overlooking the astounding scenery and finally you let out a sigh of actual relief. What a way to end your first official week as a park ranger.

About twenty minutes later you see his large silhouette booking it towards you, taking in your disheveled appearance once he’s close enough.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, sugar, what the hell happened to you?”

He envelops you in his arms and you finally allow yourself to let a few tears seep out of your eyes and they land on the fabric of his shirt.

His smell, his touch are comforting as all hell and you find yourself melting into his embrace.

You feel safe. Protected.

“Just assholes being assholes. I ditched them, though. Barely. I should’ve been smarter and ran—“

He shushes you as you begin to victim blame yourself, pulling you from his chest so he can get a better look at your figure, trying to see if you were physically hurt.

Thank god you weren’t.

“All that matters now s’that you’re safe and with me, alright? ‘M west of here. ‘Bout a twenty minute hike. Can you make it?”

You can’t help but snort, blushing as his concerned expression flashes with frustration.

You’ve hiked through the Appalachian mountains— you can definitely do a mere twenty minutes. But you understand that he’s just trying to gauge how shaken up you are and is genuinely concerned about you.

“Yeah, I can make it.”

He pulls you into his chest once more and you inhale deeply, taking in his natural musk and how deliciously it pairs with the faintness of his cologne.

“Alright— let’s go.”

His chest rumbles as he speaks and you don’t want to leave the confines of his strong hold but you must. You’re ready to get this day over with.

You spill the details of your hectic predicament on the hike back to the fire tower he is stationed at. You can feel the energy radiating from his broad figure, his anger palpable as you describe the four men who had ganged up on you.

His strong jaw clenches, fists balling at his sides but he remains silent until you’ve finished.

You can only imagine what’s going on through his head… you can’t help but find his irritation alluring.

“If I had to ballpark it, I’d say they were roughly ten minutes north from my station. I know exactly where that clearing is.”

“You’ll stay with me tonight ‘n tomorrow after mornin’ announcements we’ll get back to your neck of the woods ‘n I’ll deal with those assholes myself.”

Your teeth sink in to your lower lip, his statement holding so much conviction that it makes your clit throb.

Then it sinks in: you’re staying the night with him… and you’re all sweaty and gross from the long fucking day you’ve had.

This would have been a much more enticing, ripe, and overall erotic scenario had today’s event not transpired.

“Not trying to sound pampered or anything but do you mind if I shower?”

“How on earth does that make you pampered? ‘S a shower, darlin’, and after the day you had today you need one.”

“You saying that I stink?”

“If the shoe fits…”

You elbow him softly as you both chuckle, not even realizing that you’ve gravitated closer towards one another.

Unlike your station, the fire lookout tower is much bigger and it sits higher up on the mountain. Large windows run all around the structure giving whoever’s inside a full 360° view of this side of the forest.

It’s absolutely stunning. You can only imagine how it looks during the day.

You look out from your spot on the wraparound porch as he unlocks the door then beckons you inside.

Yeah, this place is much nicer than yours. Probably because fire lookout shifts are usually more long term than normal park ranger ones.

There’s a small bathroom— with a shower—- in the far corner, along with a bed and some other miscellaneous furnishings.

Maybe you can sell your old place and move up here. The view is much nicer, anyways.

You laugh to yourself, lost in your own inner monologue and Joel looks at you funny.

“You good?”

Embarrassed slightly, you just nod. “Yeah, just a long day.”

His warm eyes convey the message ‘I understand’ and you instinctively smile.

“Sooo about that shower…”

“Uh, yeah, help yourself. Everythin’ you need should be in there. We get hot water up here so that shouldn’t be an issue. Holler if you need anythin’. Imma try ‘n find you somethin’ to wear.”

You thank him softly, trying not to look too desperate for a hot shower as you cross the room and close the bathroom door behind you.

Letting the shower run, you begin to strip from your clothes, cringing at how grossly and sticky you feel from sweating your ass off all day.

You feel all the tension leaving your body as you step beneath the shower head and the hot droplets of water hit your skin.

You swear this is the best shower you’ve ever taken. Why? Because you peeped Joel’s toiletries in there and decided to use his body wash and shampoo so now you smell like him.

There’s three rhythmic knocks at the door followed by his deep voice.

“Found some clothes. Can I come in ‘n put ‘em by the sink?”

You swallow thickly. Despite there being a shower curtain separating the two of you, you feel nervous about him coming in while you’re naked.

Not because of him but because of you. He’s got you all riled up without even knowing it.

“Or I can leave ‘em out here?”

“It’s fine, Joel, you can come in.”

There’s a hesitant pause before you hear the door opening, then his large shadow passing through and setting the small pile of clothes by the sink.

His eyes fall to the floor where you’ve left your heap of dirty clothes, seeing the feminine printing of your pink underwear peeking from below the khaki material of the shorts you’d been wearing. The matching bra not too far away.

He’s fucked— unbelievably fucked.

Joel hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you first met. Your smile unlike anything he’s ever seen before, your eyes a shade that makes him want to get lost in them forever, your voice a tune he wants stuck in his head all the time.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and that’s quite the statement considering he’s surrounded by breathtaking sights all the time.

He’s crushing hard despite only barely knowing you for a week.

Then there’s that underlying, primal tension that simmers when you get too close. So it doesn’t help that’s he’s getting an eyeful of your discarded garments then is aware that you’re fully naked, smelling like him, on the other side of the shower curtain.

He stands in front of the shower, half tempted to just yank back the material and join you, fully clothed, just to fuck you against the wall.

No, he can’t think like this. Especially after the day you’ve had.

So he pushes those salacious thoughts away before leaving without saying a word.

You held your breath during the entirety of that silent and brief moment there.

You could feel his hesitation, really, and mentally yelled at him to give in to the temptation and have his way with you right here in the shower.

But he doesn’t hear you, obviously, and you begrudgingly finish your shower after he leaves.

You re-enter the main room dressed in an oversized national park tee and a pair of his boxers.

His cock stirs at the sight of you in his clothes and the smell of him on your skin. He has to look away before you catch him staring and label him as a creep.

“S’not much but I made you somethin’ to eat.” He’s at the kitchenette, all the fixings to make a grilled cheese strewn about the tiny area as he holds up a paper plate with your dinner on it.

Your stomach grumbles on cue, as if remembering that you haven’t eaten since lunch.

And just like that shower— the grilled cheese is the best grilled cheese you’ve ever eaten. Not because you were starving; but because Joel had made it for you out of the kindness of his heart.

Your standards are way too low if you think a man making you a grilled cheese sandwich is the most thoughtful thing in the world.

You two finish up quickly and begin getting situated for bed.

He’s being a gentlemen by giving up his bed to you while he takes refuge in his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the room.

You tried to fight him on it (to no avail) and now you’re both wide awake, laying in silence as the night passes by.

You toss and turn on the small bed, all of the sudden not exhausted like you had been on the walk up here. You can hear Joel shuffling around too and you let out a sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice cuts through the darkness and you shake your head before remembering he can’t see you.

“No. I guess I’m still on go mode after everything.”

“Need anythin’ to help you sleep?”

Yeah, you. Just come over here and fuck me one good time—- I’ll sleep like a fucking rock.

You let out a small whine at the fantasy, your brain pulling cruel tricks on you as images of him tying the rope into a knot flash through your mind… they’re suddenly distorted and now he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost with the same adroitness from before.

“Y’okay sugar?”

Too lost in your wet daydream, you hadn’t realized your prolonged silence. Your thighs rub together, your slickness smearing over your folds.

“Just fine.”

Another pregnant pause before you hear him shuffling then his heavy footsteps nearing the bed.

You sit up straight once he’s near, the moonlight pouring in from the large windows cascading over half of his face and he’s got this look in his eyes that make you want to pounce on him.

“Y’sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to make you feel better?”

His words drip with sensuality, a double entendre that knocks down the last wall of your self control.

“I can think of a thing or two.”

He stands tall over you, your eyes darkened with lust as you look up at him through your lashes.

It’s a ravishing sight, his fingers come down to brush some of your damp hair from your face and his thumb strokes affectionally against your cheek.

“Like what, baby?”

Oh, where do you start? A kiss, right? But you’re eye level with his hardening bulge and taking him down your throat has wetness pooling at your core.

But you really want to kiss him.

“Kiss me, Joel.”

And he does, bending himself over to hungrily smash his lips against yours.

You don’t hold back the whine at the feeling, your lips moving against each others in pure desperation as your tongue swirls around his before licking into his mouth.

You don’t know where this newfound confidence is coming from but you don’t do anything to deter from it.

You continue to make out, hot and heavy, as he crawls into the too small bed with you, pinning your body beneath his as he holds himself up with his strong forearms on either side of you.

Your hands eagerly run all over where you can reach. Squeezing his triceps, tracing down to his chest then digging your nails into his shoulders.

Joel grunts against your lips, breaking away so the two of you can catch your breath. His forehead falls against yours and you smile up at him.

“What you all smiley for?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re something worth smiling over.”

He chases after your lips again and you’re back to making out like a pair of horny teenagers. Your fingers run along his warm skin beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling how chiseled yet soft he is. You feel some of his chest hair and then you get curious so your hand falls lower until it’s at the band of his sleeping pants.

The hair there is coarser and you salivate at the thought of nuzzling your nose against the patch as you take him fully into your mouth.

Eager to feel his skin pressed up against yours, you tug at the hem of his shirt and he gets the hint, pulling back to discard of it quickly.

You inhale sharply at the sight of his bare torso, much more attractive than the mental image you’d been painting since you met.

“You are so hot.”

He exhales through his nose in a silent laugh before he descend on you again, except this time he doesn’t reconnect your lips.

His hands softly caress your body through his clothes, cupping your breasts and kneading them. This has you canting your head back and arching into his touch, moaning sweetly at how good it feels

“S’all you, gorgeous. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

This has you moaning louder as his fingers pinch your pebbles nipples and you begin rocking your hips against nothing just to relieve some of the pressure that’s built up against your core.

“Joel, please…” You whimper out, wanting him to rip these clothes off you and devour you entirely.

He knows what you want and what kind of man would he be to deny such a pretty little thing of feeling good?

He quickly undresses you and you’re so lost in the moment that you aren’t even plagued with self consciousness.

Every touch, every stroke and caress has you feeling flawless as he begins to kiss at your neck, his pouty lips sucking a small mark beneath your jaw and you hiss his name out of excitement.

His lips continue their assault against your neck before trailing down to your chest and between your breasts.

His large, calloused hand runs up and down your sides before he hooks his fingers under the band of his boxers that you’re currently still in, slowly pulling the fabric down.

“Ya sure about this? We can stop if you want to.”

“If you stop right now I might just kill you.”

He smirks against your chest, letting his curved nose run along the swell of your breast before his tongue darts out to kitten lick at your sensitive nipple.

You shudder and then he’s taking the nub into his mouth, sucking on it before letting his tongue flicker over it repeatedly.

“Oh fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

With your lower half now fully exposed, he massages your thighs and you spread them wider to allow him to rest against you comfortably.

He continues to give your tits attention but now he’s paired it with the sensation of him running his thumb against your obscenely wet slit.

Your hips buck up involuntarily at his touch and he pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

“Be patient, sugar, I promise imma make you feel good.” He husks out, just as turned on as you are, as he turns his head towards your other breast to begin lavishing it in the same attention he’d just given its twin.

His thumb dips between your puffy folds, gathering your arousal before he’s swirling it around your needy clit.

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering close as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure of this foreplay. You’ve never been with a man who was this attuned to your body; touching you in all the right places and having you make sounds you’ve never made before.

Your nipple falls from his mouth with a soft and wet pop as his lips trail down your abdomen, kissing the smooth skin along the way.

He reaches your mound, those chocolate brown eyes of his staring up at you as his hands find purchase on the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider for him so his broad frame can fit in between them.

“You’re s’wet, darlin’. Bet you taste fuckin’ sweet too.

Your fingers reach down to run through his hair, lust blooming in your stare.

“Why don’t you find out?”

He groans, lowering his head until you can feel his warm breath against your throbbing cunt. With your fingers still intertwined in his hair, you tug him closer to you— dying to feel his touch where you need him most.

Usually, Joel would drag this out more. Tease you until you’re a puddled mess and begging for him to take you however he pleased.

But he’s drunk on you. His mind clouded with nothing but the vision of your naked body sprawled before him and your sheer eagerness to use him to get off.

It’s hot and exhilarating— which is why he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your pussy, groaning as your arousal floods his mouth.

“Oh my god!” Your back arches off the bed, grip on his curls tight as he begins to eat you out like a starved and barbaric man.

His tongue flicks across your clit one, two times before exploring the rest of your cunt. The wet noises coming from his ministrations echo through the room and they only spur you further into your orgasm.

“So fuckin’ sweet, baby. I could die a happy man right in between these beautiful legs.”

Joel kisses and nips at your inner thighs before diving back in. His tongue flattens against your cunt as he takes long, broad swipes before his lips wrap around your sensitive nub and he sucks on it. Harshly.

A scream of pleasure rips from your throat at the action, hips moving against his face as his nose bumps against your clit when his tongue moves down to plunge into your tight hole.

He licks the inside of you, allowing you to rock your hips as your stomach tightens with your climax not too far away.

Sensing this, Joel brings two of his thick fingers up to your core, lubing them up with your wetness before he slides them in. The slight burn from the stretch is enough to have you seeing fucking stars.

“Just like that Joel please don’t stop.”

You don’t care if you sound needy or desperate— the whole reason you’re here in California is to experience something new and to forget about how shitty your romantic life has been in the past.

Joel’s doing an amazing job making you forget, his rough fingers pumping in and out of you as his mouth kisses your pussy.

“C’mon baby. I can feel how fuckin’ close ya are, sugar. Let go.”

His fingers curl inside you, brushing up against that spot that has you cursing out a litany of expletives as you clench around him tightly and cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

Your fingernails dig into his scalp, grounding you as your orgasm quite literally has your soul leaving your body.

Your release coats his digits, mouth, and jaw as he eats you out through it. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, twitching at the oversensitivity between your thighs.

“Did so good, baby. Look so fuckin’ pretty comin’ undone like that.” He mutters against your ear, once again hovering over you before your mouths meet in a passionate kiss.

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and it’s enough to spark another flame of arousal in your lower belly. Your legs wrap around his waist as his painfully hard erection presses up against your freshly fucked cunt.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel, please.” Your nose brushes up against his, giving him your best fuck me eyes in which he has no choice but to comply.

He shimmies out of his sweat pants, his swollen cock bouncing slightly as it’s exposed and your eyes widen as you look down to see just how fucking big he is.

Oh fuck, is it even going to fit?

“You okay, babygirl?”

You nod, eagerly. “Better than okay. I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.”

Your hand comes down to stroke him a few times, loving the way he groans out your name before swatting your hand away.

“Fuck— wait. I don’t have a condom.” He mutters and you quickly pull him down to you before he shifts away from between your legs.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in months.”

You have no problem with him going in raw, you actually prefer it since you want to feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he pounds into you.

However; if he’s been giving it out to the masses then maybe you should reconsider letting him fuck you… but he doesn’t seem like the type to whore out like that and you pray that’s the case.

“Me either. ‘M clean ‘n I don’t get much action out here.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He laughs, actually laughs in your face and you can’t help but find this moment endearing.

“M’gonna have to instill some patience into ya, sweetheart. You’re a needy little thing.”

There’s a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as he sinks into you, the bulbous head of his cock stretching you out deliciously as your fleshy walls flutter around him.

“Fuck,” You both groan out in unison, relishing in how good it feels to be lost in each other like this.

He hasn’t bottomed out yet and you already feel so full.

“So big, Joel.” You purr out, feeling him twitch inside of you at the praise.

He rocks his hips into yours, finally burying himself fully inside of your cunt and you whimper at the feeling.

He stills, letting you adjust to his ginormous fucking cock, whispering sweet words into your ear as he peppers soft kisses against your neck and shoulder.

“You can move now. Please.” You roll your hips, crying out like a pornstar when the head just barely brushes against your cervix.

“Oh sugar you’re gonna have to keep those noises to yourself if you want to enjoy this for longer than two strokes.”

It makes you giddy knowing you have such an effect on him.

“Can’t help but express how good it feels.”

His hips cant back, cock sliding through your wet walls as he begins to thrust back into you. His movements start slow and patient, but once there’s enough of yours wetness coating the both of you; he readjusts you on the small bed and begins to set a ruthless pace.

“Yesyesyes, oh my god just like that.”

He sits back on his haunches, meaty hands gripping onto your hips for dear life as he fucks you harshly, the rusted springs of the bed crying out at the harsh movements.

“Play with your tits, baby, show me how much you like bein’ fucked like this.”

Not needing to be told twice, your hands come down to do as instructed; twisting and pulling at your nipples which heightens your arousal even more.

They bounce against your hold as he screws you with all the passion in the world. You’re hoping his rough touch against your hips leaves bruises. It’d be a lovely memory of this moment and how it’s not just a dream you’re having.

The sound of skin slapping against skin mingled with your respective sighs and moans of pleasure swirl around in the air, both of your bodies glistening with sweat from your coital activities.

He looks so sexy over you like this, the curls at the base of his neck sticking to his skin with sweat, eyes focused on your folds as your pussy stretches each time he fucks into you, tongue just barely peeking out between his lips in concentration.

You want to feel his lips on you as you cum for the second time tonight, so you reach for him and whine out his name and he happily complies, leaning over and crashing his lips onto yours.

Your tongues intertwine and you nibble on his lower lip as his hands move your legs to rest over his shoulders.

The change of angle is enough to topple you over the edge, and you cum with an aggressive shout of his name followed by your nails raking down the taut skin of his back.

His thrusts don’t relent as he continues to fuck you, and you’re too disoriented and caught up in pure bliss to do anything about it.

“Mmm baby cum inside me. I want you to fill me up and paint my walls with your cum, Joel, pretty please.”

You use that tone again, the porny one that had him almost coming prematurely. You pair it with a tight squeeze of your walls and that does it.

His thrusts stutter and he grunts huskily against your neck as he fills you up with his spend. You play with his hair as he comes down from his own climax, placing kisses against the crown of his head.

You both lay in a comfortable silence, him still buried inside of you while he holds himself up on his forearms.

“That was amazing.” You’re the first one to breach the quiet, “But I’m gonna need you to let my legs down. I don’t want to cramp folded up like a lawn chair like this.”

He chuckles against your sweaty skin, placing a kiss to your jaw before he pulls back and tentatively moves your legs off of his broad shoulders.

Joel pulls his cock out of you and you shudder at the loss, feeling his cum slowly dripping out and down your slit.

“Such a pretty sight.” He mumbles, bringing his fingers down to collect some of your mixed release before pumping it back inside of you.

You whine in protest, “Joel she’s sensitive. She just took one hell of a pounding.”

Though you clench around his fingers, your body contradicts your words.

“S’okay, sugar, I’ll take good care of her.”

And he does, god does he take good care of her and you for the remainder of the night.

[w2soneshots]

Ibiza -W2S

Words: 1.2k+

Warnings: alcohol consumption.

In which you spend the day on a yacht while your boyfriend and his mates film hide & seek. You deal with his mean drunkenness. Then when you get back to the villa you take care of him.

a/n: this is based off of this request!! I think drunk Harry’s hilarious😭. Don’t forget to reblog! Enjoy this extra lone one💓✨

y/username

Liked by gkbarry_, ksi and 561,308 others

y/username: Ibiza 2024!🌴🍹🌺☀️💘

Tagged: @wroetoshaw @behzingagram @faithloisak @taliamar @freyanightingale

-comments-

wroetoshaw: 🔥🔥

faithloisak: you cutie

taliamar: stunning girl🫶🏼

y/nfanpage21: pahaha the second pic😭

user31096420: another iconic sidemen holiday

user91837410: she's so fit

A few days ago we arrived in Ibiza. It was initially just going to be the boys because they were planning a few sidemen videos. But they decided that there hasn't been a proper holiday with everyone for years since, Ethan and Faith had Olive, Me and Harry got married, as well as Simon and Talia so we cleared our schedules and booked tickets.

We're here for a week and plan on doing as much relaxing as we can but the boys still need to film their videos. Today they're filming a hide and seek on a huge yacht. We're all staying in a massive villa that's really close to the sea line. "Morning." Harry yawned. My sleepy face curved into a content smile. "Good morning." I whispered before kissing his soft lips. Harry wrapped his arms around my torso. "Do we have to get up?" He dug his head into my neck. "Yes Haz. The boats booked for eleven." I replied. He groaned.

Eventually I got him up and we began getting ready. I pulled on a bikini that wouldn't give me offensive tan lines, since I'm planning on laying in the sun all day. Then popped on a cute cover up. Once I'd sorted my hair and covered myself in suncream I headed downstairs where everyone was sat eating breakfast. I said "good morning." then grabbed a plate of fresh fruit along with a smoothie.

After breakfast we all collected the last of our things then just as the taxis pulled up we left. Harry helped Ethan get Olives stuff into the boot while I carried the baby for Faith while she clipped in the car seat. It's only a ten minute drive so we were soon being dropped off at the dock. The day before yesterday we spent a few hours on a smaller boat but today (since they're filming a video) the yacht is massive. The crew also flew in yesterday to film this video so they met us here.

We were told not to grab our things from the taxis because the staff on board would get it for us. When we got onto the yacht we were immediately given drinks and a quick toor. The woman brought us up some stairs. "And these are the tanning loungers." Me and the girls looked at each other with a smile. "This is where I'm going to be spending the rest of the day." Talia joked, but she was being fully serious and I felt exactly the same.

The boys wondered off to film the intro for the video and all four of us girls lay down on a lounger, while Olive slept next to Faith in a little travel cot under one of the large umbrellas. I chatted quietly with Talia, Freya started reading her book and Faith soaked up the sun. We could hear the boys screaming, shouting and laughing as they filmed. Vik was the seeker and wasn't doing the best job which was obvious from what we could see from the top deck, but I'm sure that will make the video even funnier.

Once Harry, Ethan and Josh had been found we caught them peering up at us quite a few times. "You all look like creeps you know!" I shouted. The girls laughed from beside me and the boys faces turned a bright shade of red. "You just look too good in that bikini babe!" Harry shouted back sarcastically. I smirked with a shake of my head. Then returned to tanning.

After almost three hours the boys finally finished filming so we had some lunch. As the day went on we jumped into the sea, played mafia and just sat around enjoying each other's company. Everyone began actually drinking as it started to get later. Accept me, Faith, JJ and Tobi because I had had like one or two but really couldn't be arsed with a hangover, Faith needed to look after Olive and JJ and Tobi don't drink.

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I sat next to Harry as he swayed back and forth slightly. "You alright?" I asked. He was clearly very drunk. "What? Oh. Shut up I'm fine." He replied. I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. I looked around the group, all eyes on us. I burst into a fit of laughter. "Alright big man I think it's time you get to bed." I tried to help him stand. "No!" He shouted. I sighed tiredly. "Here. I'll help." Tobi got up from his seat. We decided to all call it a night so left the ship and got taxi's back to the villa.

"Here you go mate." JJ murmured as him and Tobi lay an almost asleep Harry on our bed. "Thanks boys." I smiled as they walked out with a quick "good night." I pulled Harry's clothes off, leaving him in just his boxers. Then I placed a glass of water on his nightstand, along with some paracetamol for his hangover. Thankfully Harry usually isn't physically sick when he has a hangover so there was no need for a bucket. After I took a quick shower I slipped into bed, next to him.

The next morning I got up decently early to make everyone breakfast. Faith was already downstairs since Olive had been awake for quite awhile and she didn't want to wake Ethan up since he was hungover and he woke up early yesterday for Olive. "Good morning you cutie." I greeted Olive in my high pitched baby voice, that seems to just appear whenever I'm around animals or babies. She giggled with the sweetest little smile.

"Morning." Faith also smiled as I sat down next to her on the couch. "So last night Harry seemed to be a little..." "mean." I finished her sentence. "Well yea." She breathed out a laugh. "He's a mean drunk. It really doesn't bother me to be honest. I find it hilarious." I chuckled. "I'm glad, I was a little concerned." "The first time we went out together it was a bit of a shock to the system but over the years I realised that it's just how he reacts to alcohol."

After a good chat with Faith I headed back upstairs to check on Harry. I slowly opened to door to see Harry front down on the bed with his face turned towards the door. I walked towards him and squatted in front of him. "Harry." I whispered as my hand gently stroked his face. He groaned. "Have some paracetamol love." I grabbed the pack from the nightstand. "My head hurts." He slowly opened one of his eyes. I smiled at him "I know. Sit up for me."

He pushed himself up and turned over so he was sitting against the headboard. He took the tablet along with almost the entire glass of water. "Was I mean?" He asked quietly. I laughed "Uhm... I've had much worse." He groaned as he covered his face with his hands. "Sorry." He mumbled. "Don't be. You were completely gone with the fairies." I said sarcastically. He chuckled but then winced, probably from the pounding headache. "Go back to sleep. I'll have breakfast downstairs when you're ready." I quickly pecked his forehead. "You're too good to me." He replied as he returned to his previous position.

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter three

Summary: Not your average day out, well, maybe for The Avengers it is.

Warning: Minimum Violence. John Walker.

Word Count: 1374

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A/N: JACKET. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree

The aroma of coffee filled the small space of your kitchen, and the events at the restaurant and the fallout weighed heavily on your mind. As you stood by the counter, lost in thought, you heard a soft knock at your door. 

Opening it, you found Bucky standing there, looking slightly disheveled. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice gentle. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after last night.”

You stepped aside, letting him enter. With a grateful smile, you nodded. “I just made some coffee, would you like some?” 

His eyes scanned the room as if he was ensuring everything was in place as he walked in. “I’d love some, please, Sweetheart,” he smiled, turning back at you. Dark shadows clung beneath his eyes, the whites of them were threaded with red veins as his lids struggled to stay open. “I didn’t get much sleep.” 

You poured two mugs, handing one to Bucky. “I know you told him about John,” you said softly, leading him to the couch. 

“I’m not sorry about that,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Steve should have done more damage,” he mumbled under his breath.

You sighed, sitting next to him and bringing your knees up to your chest. “I just wish it hadn’t come to that. Steve shouldn’t be in fights because of me,”

Bucky turned his gaze to you, softening at the thought of your worry. “That wasn’t your fault, Steve did what any brother would, and John… well, he’s not worth your time or concern.”

His presence helped steady your emotions, comforting you. He had a way of keeping you grounded, making you feel safe. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, meeting his gaze. “For everything.”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Always.” 

As you found a comfortable silence lacing itself between you, the familiar massage tone of both phones pinged together. Reaching for them in sync, you read the message. ‘They’ve taken Steve in, again.’ Your heart sank.

“Walker,” Bucky mumbled as he stared at his phone, sighing. You closed your eyes, a wave of guilt washing over you. “It’s not your fault,” Bucky reassured you, cupping your face, the cold metal soothing your flushed skin. “Let’s go get him.” 

Nodding in agreement, you raised from your seat and settled your mug down on the coffee table. Grabbing your keys, you began to race toward the door. Bucky cleared his throat moments before you reached for the handle, grabbing your attention.

He held out his jacket toward you, gesturing toward your attire. The adrenaline coursing through you caused you to forget you had yet to change out of your nightwear. Mumbling a thank you toward him, you slipped into his jacket, letting the leather material surround your body.

~

The ride to the police station was a blur, your mind replayed the events of the previous night. Every what-if raced through your thoughts. 

When you entered the police station, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda were already waiting inside for Steve. “Have you seen him yet?” you asked, as Bucky went over to the front desk. 

Sam shook his head, concern shown on his face. “Not yet. They’re questioning him now. They haven’t given us anything, yet.” 

Natasha rose from her seat in the waiting area, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. “He’ll be okay, we’ve been here before.” 

Bucky returned from the front desk, his face masking a barely restrained anger. “Walker’s really pushing himself this time.” 

A confused look washed over your features, “This time?” you asked, gazing up at Bucky, searching for answers in his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘this time’?” 

Wanda put a reassuring hand on your back, “Walker wants what Steve has,” she spoke, and a heavy tension began to weigh in the air. “You know, the authority, the bar’s respect…” she continued as she gestured around the station.

“He’s just trying to provoke us,” Sam suspected, as his gaze met yours, you felt smaller than usual around your friends as you realized your part in this. “He knew getting to you would do that.” 

Your gaze tried to avoid all of theirs, feeling humiliated. Wrapping Bucky’s jacket tighter around your body, you found an empty seat and sank into it.

The minutes felt like hours as you waited. Suddenly, the door to one of the interview rooms opened, and it wasn’t who you were hoping for. John emerged, looking smug and satisfied. His gaze met yours for a brief moment, a smirk across his face. 

Before you could react, Bucky was across the room. He grabbed John by the collar and slammed him against the wall with force, the entire station went silent. “Is there a problem, guard dog?” John spat as he tried to maintain his composure.

Bucky’s grip tightened, his voice a growl. “Listen, Walker. If you ever,” another slam, “go near her again, you’ll have more than just Steve to worry about.” 

“Barnes!” Officer Fury, who dealt with your group on numerous occasions, called out as he approached. “Not here,” the man tried to squeeze himself between the two men. 

Reluctantly, Bucky let go and took a step back. Fury placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder, guiding him out of the station. “Don’t make things worse for yourself.” 

Straightening his collar, he shot one last venomous look at you before turning and walking out of the station. 

Fury sighed as he turned to Bucky, shaking his head. “Keep it together, Barnes. You know the drill, don’t let him get the best of you.” Bucky nodded as he looked over at you.

Within seconds, another interview room door opened, this time, Steve walked out. You immediately rose from your seat and rushed over to him. He pulled you into a tight hug. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle with a lace of tiredness. 

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Forget me, what about you?” 

Pulling back slightly, Steve looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m good. Fury’s got our backs, letting me off with a warning.”

You glanced over at Fury, sending him a grateful smile as he gave you a reassuring nod. “Just keep it in the bar,” he advised. 

“Speaking of,” Sam smirked as he gestured toward the station door. “Shall we?” 

A sense of relief washed over you and your friends. Following their lead out of the station, you suddenly remember you were still in your nightwear. The warmth from Bucky’s jacket caused you to feel fully dressed and covered the entire time.

Bucky walked beside you, sensing your sudden discomfort he placed a hand on the small of your back. “I’ll take you home first,” he gave you a small smile as you glanced up at him. 

~

As you reached your apartment, Bucky followed you up the stairs, his hand never left the small of your back as he rested gently against it. The familiar scent of your home instantly put you at ease as you stepped inside. 

“I’ll be quick!” you promised, as you turned to glance at him. He closed the door behind you and leaned against it as he watched you make your way to your bedroom. 

“Take your time, Sweetheart,” he said, a playful tone laced his voice as he smiled back at you. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Disappearing into your bedroom, the adrenaline that had carried you through the events at the police station began to wear off. You quickly change out of your nightwear and into one of your dresses, and check your appearance. The comforting weight of Bucky’s jacket still lingered on your shoulders as you replaced it with one of your cardigans. 

Bucky had moved into your living room by the time you emerged from your bedroom, his expression softening when he saw you. “Gorgeous,” he said, a rush of heat spread across your cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, as you avoided his gaze, and caught the sight of his jacket draped over your arm. “Oh, and thank you!” You gestured toward the jacket as you handed it back to him. 

Bucky’s face fell slightly as he took the jacket, disappointment crossed his features. “It looked good on you,” he said as he reluctantly slipped it on.

---

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[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Six

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour in a semi-public place. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.7k

A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Six

It felt like you were in a daze, like the night before had just been a fever dream. You’d almost been willing to write it off as a dream before you saw a note in your kitchen from Billy, telling you that the leftovers from dinner had been put in the refrigerator for you. There was no telling if he’d brought them through himself or if he’d had the maid do it, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

After your usual morning routine, you headed to the library to finally return Billy’s copy of Dorian Gray, exchanging it for Jane Eyre, another book that you’d never been allowed to read growing up.

By the time Billy emerged at sunset, you’d finished the leftovers and you were sitting on the sofa, with your nose buried in the book and your stuffed beagle on your lap. You’d even put tonight's blood in his thermal travel mug, hoping to keep it warm for him.

“Good evening,” he said as he joined you on the sofa, eyeing his travel mug before turning his attention to you and smiling all the more when he noticed the stuffed toy. “I hope I’m not interrupting the two of you.”

“Not at all, me and Bill were just reading.”

“Bill?” He laughed. “You can’t call him Bill.”

“But he’s Bill the Beagle,” you told him, biting your lip and trying your damnedest to stifle your own laughter. “It’s too late to change it, he’s used to it now.”

The both of you sat for a moment, trying to fight back the laughter but it didn’t last. You cracked first and, soon enough, the pair of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Just the sound of his laughter had you smiling. It was nice, precious even. It was only then that you realised that you didn’t hear him laugh very often, at least, not properly. He seemed happy, honestly happy with no hint of smugness.

“Is this for me?” He asked, reaching for the mug.

You nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious at how much thought went into the gesture. “I just thought…”

“Thank you,” he offered, obviously sensing your discomfort and not wanting to force you to finish the thought. After taking a slow drink, his attention turned to the book on your lap. “So, what are you reading now?”

“Jane Eyre,” you answered and caught a questioning look from him. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just very... apt.” 

“Is it?

“I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you,” he answered. Then, a beat later, he changed the subject. “I’d like to ask you something; I’m throwing a party here next month, and I’d very much like you to come. It’ll mean taking you for a new dress, of course, but -”

“A new dress?” You repeated, barely keeping up with all the information he was throwing your way. “But I already have so many.”

“I want you to have something special, something you picked for yourself. And it means an evening out of the penthouse,” Billy explained. You didn’t need to answer, he could tell just from the look on your face that you wanted to. “We can go on Wednesday.”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Great, now that that’s settle, what do you want to do tonight?”

You fell silent, wondering if it was a trick question, if there was an expected answer. It’d be a lie to say that some part of you wasn’t hoping for a repeat of the night before, but you couldn’t say that.

“We could watch something?” You offered and Billy almost seemed taken aback by the simplicity of the suggestion. “Just - you know, because we talked a lot last night and I haven’t exactly done anything interesting today...”

“If that’s what you want to do,” he shrugged.

“We don’t have to, if you’d rather...” you trailed off, cheeks starting to warm.

Billy reached for you, fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “No pressure or expectations, remember?” He told you softly. “If you want to watch a movie, we can watch a movie, okay?”

The only response you could give was a meek nod before quickly excusing yourself. When you returned a couple of minutes later, you had a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, explaining to Billy that they were crucial for a TV night. He nodded while fighting back a laugh and you realised that, while you’d been out of the room, he’d been and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“Why don’t you find us something to watch?”  Billy asked, handing you the remote.

And then began five minutes of mindless scrolling through Netflix, watching trailers, and trying to find something that you’d both enjoy.

“What about this one?” You asked, lingering on Black Sails, a show that caught your attention because it was about pirates and you’d been interested in pirates ever since you’d  secretly read Treasure Island as a child. “It’s a series but... well, we’ve got all year, right? Maybe we could watch TV together more often?”

For a moment, he just looked at you, the smile on his lips growing, like you were offering him far more than the occasional night in front of the TV.

“Okay, let’s watch some pirates,” he agreed, filing the two wine glasses and handing you one of them.

When you’d chosen the show, you’d thought that you’d be able to watch and talk but, within five minutes, you were hooked. 

It wasn’t long before Billy was awkwardly reaching across, trying to steal your popcorn, prompting you to edge closer and closer until you were pressed against his side. You were so caught up in the show that you barely noticed Billy draping his arm around you or the way your head had ended up resting on his shoulder. 

One episode finished and another started, then another. You made little comments to each other, but after the popcorn and wine were gone, you were mostly silent. There was more sex and nudity than you’d expected and you felt your cheeks warm every time. If Billy noticed, he was nice enough not to say anything about it. But, aside from that, you were enjoying it; you were enjoying the whole night. It was nice. And Billy seemed to be enjoying it too.

“Oh, now I see why you’re watching this,” Billy joked when a particularly muscled and shirtless pirate appeared on screen. You pulled a face. “What? He not your type?”

“I don’t have a type,” you confessed, playfully nudging him with your elbow. 

Billy retaliated by nudging you back and things seemed to escalate from there. You gave him a shove and he pushed back, his hand discovering a ticklish spot on your side and, once Billy realised you were ticklish, it was game over. You squealed as he started to tickle you, laughing and pushing against him but, somehow, you ended up on your back with him above you. The tickling continued for a moment, but it soon turned into kissing.

“What is it about you?” he asked softly. “How do you make me want like this?” 

Before you could answer his lips were on yours again, the kiss more eager than the last. He pressed closer, his hips between your thighs, and you soon felt the increasingly familiar press of his erection against you. A soft sound slipped from your lips and into his, your heart hammering in your chest.

“The things I want to do to you,” he muttered, lips pulling from yours to your neck, kissing and sucking, leaving little marks in your skin. “The ways I want you,” he continued. “I’d ruin you. I’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

It sounded insane but that didn’t stop you from wanting it, craving it.

Your hips pushed up against his while your fingertips pressed against his spine, holding him against you. A loud moan spilled from your lips when he pressed back, causing your body to tremble, your back arching against him of its own accord.

His head lifted from your neck, his dark eyes looked down at you, his jaw tense. 

“I want to make you mine,” but this time it wasn’t Billy’s voice, it was something closer to the way he’d sounded that night in the kitchen when he’d been hungry.

Every fibre of your being suddenly tensed, your heart stuttered and your breath caught. Your eyes were wide as he leaned to roughly press his lips to yours, his tongue dominating the kiss. His hips pressed down against yours again, grinding his clothed cock against you.

“I want to make you scream my name.” He growled before sinking against your lips again.

The whimper that escaped you next wasn’t one of pleasure, it was shock and, if you were honest, a little bit of fear. But that little sound seemed to be enough to snap Billy out of it.

His lips pulled from yours suddenly, and he buried his face against your neck. He was still and silent for a few seconds. All you could hear was your own panted breaths and the echo of your pounding heart in your ears.

The shock lingered but the fear was quick to dissipate. He’d stopped. You hadn’t even had to ask him to. He’d stopped the moment he realised that you were uncomfortable, even though you could still feel how unfulfilled he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered against your neck, then again; “I’m sorry.”

Your mind was racing, between this and the night in the kitchen, you didn’t know what to think. He’d been hungry that night - at least, that was the excuse you’d given for his behaviour, but now it was starting to seem like it might be something else entirely.

“Are you -” you dared to quietly ask, “- okay?”

“No,” he answered and that one broken syllable shattered your heart.

Without hesitation or pause to think, you started to run your fingers through his hair, wanting to soothe whatever it was inside of him that was hurting. You heard him take an uncomfortable breath, but you didn’t stop. 

After a few minutes, he finally started to relax a little.

“It’s okay,” you muttered. “You didn’t hurt me.”

His head lifted slowly and the look on his face caused your stomach to knot.

“I could have,” he told you, looking almost sick at the thought.

Finally, he moved, pulling away from you and sitting up, his head in his hands. You followed suit, sitting beside him, giving him a moment of silence to think.

But that silence quickly felt deafening and you felt worse for the part you’d played. You hadn’t expected the things he’d said and they’d unsettled you a little, but that was all. You weren’t used to men being so forward and borderline aggressive about their desires. But he’d stopped. He hadn’t done any of the things he said. He hadn’t hurt you. He certainly hadn’t forced you into anything.

“You could hurt me right now,” you stated. “You could’ve hurt me last night, or that night in the kitchen, but you didn’t. And I don’t think you will. I get that I’m fragile and weak, and that worries you, but -”

“I don’t think you’re fragile or weak,” he told you, lifting his head and fixing his gaze on you. “You’re not either of those things.”

It was your turn to drop your gaze, cheeks warming as you shook your head.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, and you did as he asked. “You being here is proof that you’re not

weak. Taking this job, being stuck here with me for a year, there’s nothing weak about any of that.”

Your head shook again. “You don’t understand. You were right, I am running away. I’m here because I wasn’t strong enough to do anything else.”

“Everything you’ve done since you got here - standing up to me, the night you helped me, that was reckless and dangerous. It was brave.” He told you, not giving you a chance to argue. “So, no, it’s not because I think you’re fragile and weak. It’s me, I...” he sighed, “I told you, control is an issue for me.”

Cautiously, you reached for him, taking his hand between yours and holding it tight. 

“I didn’t even have to ask you to stop, Billy,” you told him softly. “You stopped yourself before you took things too far. You were in control. And I - I don’t know, it’s not like I was scared, I’m just not used to things being that... intense.” You watched him swallow awkwardly and decided to cut him off before he could speak. “Why don’t we rewind this episode and finish watching?”

He gave an uncertain grumble and you reached for the remote, winding back the last fifteen minutes of the show, back to the last thing you remembered. Sitting back, you grabbed Bill the Beagle and pulled your blanket back up over your legs, and when Billy finally sat back, you snuggled into his side again. And, eventually, he wrapped his arm around you again.

The rest of the night passed without incident. Your eyes started to close and, for a few minutes, you even drifted off. Billy woke you with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Bedtime, sleepyhead,” he muttered softly, and you reluctantly agreed, stifling a yawn as you got to your feet. “I should see you briefly tomorrow, but I’m needed in the office pretty early.”

Nodding, you headed for your rooms, saying goodnight before leaving him.

True to his word, the next day you saw him at sunset for a few minutes on his way out. On Tuesday, he was almost late leaving because he pulled you into a hot and heavy makeout session in the kitchen that seemed to suggest he was frustrated about not getting to see you. But then Wednesday rolled around, and it was time for Billy to take you dress shopping.

The moment you stepped into the elevator with him, he took your hand in his and kept hold of it all the way down to the parking garage below the building, leading you to his car and opening the door for you. You’d never been in a Rolls Royce before, and you caught Billy smiling as you looked around the car in wonder as your fastened your seatbelt.

It wasn’t a long drive to the dress shop - a large boutique affair, filled with bespoke pieces as well as off-the-rack gowns and dresses. And, while you’d been in fancy dress stores before, you found yourself taken aback. Usually at times like this, you’d have your mother at your side, and she always had an idea of what you were supposed to wear; what colours were acceptable and how much skin a decent woman should show.

“Mr Russo, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” one of the assistants said as she approached.

You watched as she approached Billy and he kissed her cheeks in, what you could only describe as, a Parisian fashion. He introduced you and she took a step back, looking you up and down. Next to her you felt more child than woman - she was obviously a vampire, with perfect skin and hair that fell in natural tight ringlets, framing her face. She was another example of the stunning women who seemed to gravitate around Billy.

But it was her looking at you in an appraising way that really caught you off guard.

“Your pictures really didn’t do you justice,” she remarked and you quickly looked at Billy for clarification. 

“Hannah picked your wardrobe,” he explained.

“Oh.” Suddenly you found yourself looking down, thinking about the outfit you’d put together - jeans, a blouse and boots - wondering what the person who’d chosen all the items thought of how you’d decided to wear them.

“Why don’t you have a look around, see what speaks to you?” Hannah offered.

Billy gave a wave of his hand, indicating for you to do just that and, slowly you started to move towards the racks of dresses. It wasn’t long before you were looking at the sorts of dresses your mother might have picked for you; a-line dresses that showed a hint of your waist and with necklines high enough to cover any and all cleavage. You could practically hear her voice in your head telling you how no respectable man would ever want you if we went around showing too much skin.

While you looked, a bottle of champagne was opened and two glasses were filled; one for you and one for Billy. He kept hold of your glass while you looked around.

You pulled one dress out and looked at it front and back. It was like every other dress you’d had since you’d started to grow into your figure. It felt safe but boring, like it wasn’t really you but what you thought was expected of you. But you weren’t that person anymore - at least, you were trying not to be.

“If you don’t mind me saying, with your figure, I’d suggest something a little more fitted, something with some slink.” Hannah offered.

“Slink?” You repeated, looking at Billy, wondering what he thought.

“I think you’d look lovely in a slinky dress.”

“Can you help me choose?” You asked Hannah. “I don’t know where to even start.”

Rather than the expected look of judgement, Hannah just smiled. “Of course. Why don’t you and Mr Russo go sit down and I’ll put together a collection for you to try.”

“That would be brilliant, thank you Hannah,” Billy answered for you, handing you a glass.

Fifteen minutes later, you were in a fitting room the size of a small bedroom, looking through a whole rail of dresses. You started with a black dress, but hated it the moment it was on, then you half pulled on a short red dress but decided that you couldn’t stand the colour. Then you started to rummage through the rail again.

Your attention was quickly drawn to a  silver number, and finally you understood what Hannah had meant by slink. It had thin spaghetti straps and a neckline that plunged to a couple of inches above your belly button, and a slit running up one side from ankle almost right to your hip. Even the back of the dress hung low. 

You pulled it on and looked at yourself awkwardly in the mirror. Because of the way the dress was cut, you had to remove your bra to get a real idea of how the dress was supposed to look. You stood on tiptoes and turned this way and that, not sure what to think.

“How’s it going?” Billy called from outside.

You stayed silent for a few moments before sighing. “I don’t know,” you called back.

“Need a second opinion?”

You poked your head around the door, the awkward discomfort on your face drawing a sympathetic smile from Billy. He waited a beat before getting to his feet, you felt your cheeks warming as he approached you. You remained hidden behind the door, not sure you wanted him to see.

“I look ridiculous,” you pouted.

“Are you gonna let me see?” He asked, a hint of laughter in his tone. You shook your head and he gently pressed against the door with his hand. “Come on, let me see.”

For a moment more, you held the door in place before finally stepping back and letting the door swing open so he could see you. When he didn’t immediately say something, you took another step back.

“You hate it.”

“What? No, I’m speechless,” he told you, stepping forwards, closing the gap between you. “You look amazing.”

“I feel like a kid playing dress up.”

He kicked the door shut behind him as he stepped into the fitting room, his gaze roving up and down your body. Clearing the distance between you, he placed his hands on your hips, turning you to face towards the mirror.

“Look,” he instructed in a low voice, spoken into your ear, and you did as you were told, looking at your reflection. “You only feel like a kid because that’s how you’ve let people see you. But that’s not what I see. I see a sexy, elegant woman. I see curves and tits that get me hard, and it kills me that you don’t realise how amazing you are.”

His lips pressed to your neck before you could respond and your breath caught, watching your reflections. 

Whether it was his words or the way he was touching you, he made you feel more confident, like you really could wear the dress and not be seen as ridiculous. You pressed against him and felt his cock against your hip, and that felt like all the proof you needed that he meant what he was saying.

His hands began to move, one pressing against your stomach while the other moved to rest over your racing heart. You took a breath, filled with a sort of wanting that only he seemed to bring out in you. Not giving yourself a moment to second guess, you reached behind him, palming his erection through the fabric of his dark jeans.

“Can I -” you started quietly, voice little more than a whisper, cheeks starting to heat. Billy stared at you in the mirror, expectant but patient, letting you find the nerve to finish. “Can I touch you?”

He smirked at you through the mirror as he undid the fastenings of his jeans and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widened, watching everything through the mirror because you were too embarrassed to look down. Billy took your hand in his and wrapped it around his shaft, and you started to stroke him slowly. And, when your gaze dropped, you found Billy’s fingers beneath your chin, urging your head up.

“Don’t be shy,” he muttered in your ear, his breath catching as your thumb brushed over the tip of his cock. “See how amazing you look right now, taking what you want?”

You bit your lip, watching his reflection, seeing the way his jaw went slack as his breathing got heavier in your ear. Once he was certain you weren’t going to look away, his hand moved from your chin to your breast, slipping beneath the fabric of the dress. 

“You look so fucking good in this dress,” he groaned, returning his lips to your neck, “so confident and sexy. You’ve got no idea what I want to do to you right now.”

His hand moved, slipping one of the thin straps down your arm, causing the front of the dress to fall, exposing your breast to him. Your hand faltered for a moment, cheeks burning hotter.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he husked in your ear, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. There was a seriousness about him that sent a shiver down your spine despite the smile on his lips.

Your hand started moving quicker as his cold hand moved to grope you again. And, finally, you started to see it; when you looked at your reflection, you didn’t see the shy, embarrassed girl, you saw the woman who had Billy Russo, desperate and groaning, in the palm of her hand. You felt almost powerful, filled with a kind of confidence you’d never been allowed to feel before, and it was all thanks to Billy.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he grunted, face pressed against your neck. Your hand moved quicker as his body started to tense. “Oh, shit...”

You felt him twitch in your hand and watched him come undone. It was a beautiful sight, even if you did go straight back to feeling embarrassed once it was over.

“Are you going to try any of the others?” He asked, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and straightening the dress, before tucking himself back into his jeans.

“I don’t think I’ll like any of them as much as I like this one.”

“I don’t think I will either,” Billy agreed, smirking at your reflection. “Why don’t you get changed and we’ll have Hannah help you find some shoes.”

You nodded and Billy pressed one more kiss to your neck before pulling away from you. He left to speak to Hannah and, for a moment, you couldn’t even move. You kept your eyes on the mirror and the woman that was staring back at you; was that really you? Could you be the confident woman who took what you wanted? Eventually your gaze dropped, realising that Billy had managed to get cum on the mirror.

That got you moving.

You quickly, but carefully, dropped the dress and started to pull your clothes back on when, suddenly, the door opened and someone stepped in.

“Sorry, I -” you started to speak but stopped the moment she lifted her fingers to her lips.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she explained in a hushed whisper. “My name is Agent Madani, I’m with Homeland Security, and I believe you’re in danger.”

“What? I -” you took a step back, head shaking. 

“Are you being kept against your will?”

“No, I - it’s my job, I -” you didn’t get to finish.

“Your parents believe that you’ve been kidnapped,” she sounded almost confused at the revelation you were there of your own free will.

“No, I left home. It was my choice,” you told her. “They don’t know I’m here, do they?” Your voice quickly turned frantic, trying to make sense of what was happening. Surely your parents wouldn’t have been able to get Homeland to look for you.

“No, they don’t know yet -”

“Yet? They can’t know at all,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Your parents aren’t why I’m here,” she continued quietly. “Has Russo said anything to you about the other women who’ve worked for him?”

“No, I just know that they quit because they didn’t want to work for him anymore,” you tried to explain, your mind racing.

“Three of them are missing. All presumed dead,” she told you. “Each went to work for Russo and haven’t been seen since.”

“Billy wouldn’t, he’s not -” you stopped abruptly, noticing her eyes finding the mess Billy had left on the mirror and obviously putting the pieces together. When she looked back up, you could barely hold her gaze.

“Have you seen anything suspicious? Has he tried to feed from you without permission?” She asked. “Is he forcing you to sleep with him?”

“No - no, nothing like that. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told her, so confused by everything she was trying to tell you.

“You need to be careful. He can’t know that we’ve had this conversation. He’s dangerous -” a noise outside the fitting room seemed to spook her, “- I’ll be in touch again soon. Don't worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And, then, just as quickly as she’d appeared, she left. 

Your mind was reeling over everything she’d said. It seemed insane, ridiculous. Billy had been nothing but kind to you, nothing but careful and considerate. You couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone. There had to be some other explanation.

You must have been taking too long because, soon enough, Billy appeared at the door again. 

“Are you alright? You’re not having second thoughts about the dress are you?” He asked with that soft smile that caused butterflies in your stomach.

“N-no, sorry... I guess I just got distracted,” you told him, deciding not to mention Madani to him, not knowing how he’d take it.

“Come on,” he offered you his hand, “Hannah’s picked out some shoes for you to look at.”

There was something about him in that moment, something about the way he was smiling at you that made you want to believe the best in him. After all, you’d met monsters before, and Billy Russo just didn’t seem to fit the bill. 

Grabbing the dress, you took his hand and let him lead you across the store to look at shoes. Agent Madani was nowhere to be seen and, for that evening at least, you decided to try and forget all about it. Tomorrow you’d be having lunch with Karen, maybe you’d be able to find out something then. But, in that moment, you were content to hold his hands and look at shoes, trying to forget the stain on an otherwise amazing evening. 

End Note : Dun-dun-duuuuuunnnnnnnn. I have nothing to say because I don't want to potentially spoil what I've got planned. But, yeah, I decided that reader and Billy should watch Black Sails together because it's been showing up on my dash a lot and it's an a+ show if you haven't seen it already.

As always, thanks so much for reading (and also thank you so much for all the new followers) I've really loved all the feedback from this fic and for my last fic, and you've all just been wonderful.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

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@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl

[wifeyoozi]

Lee Jihoon  ✶ 𓂃   She got the Ruby

w.c : 3.0 k ┊ synopsis : Lee jihoon accidentally rizzed up a rich woman and successfully gets pegged by her┊ content warning : smut , sub jihoon, pegging , face sitting/oral sex , lowkey sugar mommy dynamic , uji and his ruby red kink (red lips + red heels + red strap)

a/n : thank you for 1k followers !! Also please remember reblogs are more helpful for the blog than just likes so please reblog! Add tags and comments to lemme know how you liked the fic!

The first time Jihoon meets you it's at a bar. He doesn’t drink often, much less goes to a bar, but he’d been having a creative block in his studio for too long and it had got him feeling weary of his own studio and his shitty studio was that last place he wanted to be.

You were sitting alone, and he’d thought he could flirt with you. Not that he really thought he had a chance at all, you looked so gorgeous, dressed up a little too formally for a bar, but gorgeous nonetheless, and all while he was wearing an old stretched tee over ripped jeans, his impulsively bleached hair long and messy. But his pockets were light and a whiskey hit harder than local beer and he wouldn't mind using a stranger to vent.

“Hey, buy me a drink?” He tried, sliding by you. In all honesty Jihoon doesn't know a thing about flirting and picking up (only if he had listened to a bit of Mingyu's bizarre flirting lessons). He was stiff and awkward, his smile tight.

“No, why would I?” You were colder on the inside than what appeared on the surface. 

Jihoon held his hand up, “shit, sorry. I just had to try flirting once, y'know,” he said awkwardly, trying to retreat back.

“Oh,” you say, stopping him in his steps, “I didn't realise you were flirting.”

“You didn’t?” jihoon chuckles, “doesn’t it happen a lot to you? I'd find it hard to believe it if doesn't.”

“It doesn't,” you say, pulling the chair beside you to make space for him to sit. He raises his eyebrows at his own luck and slides into the seat, “what will you drink, then?”

“A whiskey sounds good,” Jihoon smiles, feeling a bit more confident now that you set the bar so low for him. You simply nod at the bartender who pours a neat glass of some expensive looking whiskey. He glances between you and the bartender, and feels the urge to stop you, “hey, that looks expensive, you don’t really have to-”

“Don’t bother the price,” you say, passing the glass to him, “you can continue flirting with me now.”

Jihoon doesn’t, infact, flirt. After just one glass of whiskey, he’s tipsy enough to spill every detail of his miserable life, from his sloppy job as a music artist and producer, to his shitty apartment at the outskirts of the city to his music block and absolute need for new inspiration. 

When Jihoon got a little too drunk, you ordered a cab for him to drop him home. 

He wasn't much of a talker usually, but alcohol in his system always made him a little weird. You had ended up knowing everything about your life. And he knew nothing but your name and the phone number you gave him.

The next morning he woke up with a hangover, still remembering last night. He tried to look up for you, in hopes of finding some social media so he knew a little more of you before he could think of contacting you.

Of everything else, he didn't expect the first thing to pop up would be a Wikipedia of your name. Oh.

Holy shit, did he just flirt with one of the richest business women in all of Korea!

He doesn't contact you after that knowledge, having read everything about you (especially your net worth). The number you gave him was probably fake too. Ugh, he'd probably embarrassed himself in front of you.

He met you again. And again. And again.

He'd learnt that you didn't go to bars often, you were just waiting for a business partner who was supposed to meet you there, only to have cancelled last minute due to his sick wife. 

“I'm glad I waited to finish my drink.” You'd told him, making his ears and neck heat up.

You two were at a musical exhibit, where Jihoon had performed a few of his songs as the opening guest, dressed in the expensive tailored suit you bought him as you yourself dressed in a black bodycon formal dress finished with a blazer, your sleeves rolled up. 

You'd bought him a rare expensive vinyl CD of his favourite Bruno Mars album. 

“I can't take that, it's too costly,” he said. He didn't want you to think that he was friends with you just for your money, because he really wasn't. “Besides, I don't have a vinyl player.”

“I do,” You say nonchalantly, “you can come over and listen to it whenever you like.”

That isn't the only thing you buy for him. Every time he tries to nod you off for it being too expensive or too big for his place, you'd take it to yours. So he had naturally ended up spending a lot of time at your penthouse. It was big and spacious and you'd told him there was enough space to fit in all his musical accessories that he couldn't keep at his own apartment.

He'd come there often after finishing his work at studio. He'd been inspired lately, writing different songs and making new beats every now and then. He'd even send you a few samples for you to review. 

“It sounds amazing,” you'd said as you pulled off his headphones, “what's the title?”

“Haven't thought of it yet. The chorus is still kinda funky. Once I get it the lyrics right, I'll have a title,” he said. 

He often thought his hoodies and electric guitars and the drum set and all the vinyls and vintage albums you bought him didn't fit your house aesthetic. But you never said anything about it.

He's eating dinner with you now at yet another expensive and fancy restaurant you took him to. He thinks you look gorgeous. Really gorgeous. Just out-of-his-league gorgeous. Your silky slip red dress and red lipstick and matching red heals did things to his heart (and dick) he couldn't explain. 

He just wants to bed you so bad. He wants you to fuck him so bad. 

He watches as you order another bottle of champagne for the two of you. He should feel more guilty, he thinks, for taking so much from you. Instead, he feels comfortable and pleased. He's always been the provider and the protector in any of his previous relationships – not that he minded to be the same with you, but it felt good to be taken care of once instead. He feels safe around you, and happy as well, and he's not an easy talk, but you hear him talk whenever he talks too. And he doesn't know what he must have done to get someone as perfect as you in his life.

“Hey, why do you like me,” he'd said impulsively, “why me?”

You could have had anyone you want in this world. Jihoon firmly believed that, with not only your wealth but for how beautiful you were, inside and out. He thinks you don't realise that, but he knows it.

You look up at him, lips opening and closing slightly, before speaking, “would you… like to come home with me tonight?”

Jihoon's back hit the wall as soon as you two reached the bedroom of your penthouse, his lips feverishly kissing yours. You were strong – not stronger than him, but you also made him feel weak. You pinned him against the wall, your one hand holding two of his above his head as the other reached to hold a handful of his hair. 

He'd moan in your mouth every time you'd tug a little too hard. He loved it. He loves how you tower over him in your 4-inches red high heels. He's usually very dominant in bed, but you make him feel so submissive. 

He feels dumbbed out by the kiss when you pull away, panting as you place butterfly kisses over his jaw and neck. “Shit, y/n, I want you so bad,” he whispered against your hair.

“Will you strip for me, baby?”

Jihoon would do anything for you if you call him baby in your sweet, seductive voice. You leave his hands so he can help himself, unbuttoning the silk black shirt (that you bought for him), carelessly pulling them off his shoulders and yanking them off to the floor. He undid his trousers and pulled them down to his thighs, letting gravity do the rest of the work, all while you nibbled over the skin of his neck.

“These too, baby boy,” you said, tapping on his black CK boxer briefs. Shyly, but surely, Jihoon let go of those too, now completely bare in front of you. You looked down at him, your hand ghosting over the curves of his body, making Jihoon shiver. He could feels your stare over his dick, which had gotten half hard already. You rest your hand over his abs, meeting his eyes again, “Shit, you're so pretty, hoon.”

He wanted to say you were prettier, but his voice was stuck in his throat. You pressed another kiss on his lips before taking his hand and bringing him to your bed, making him sit on the edge. You stripped for him next, giving him a full show as you slipped off your dress, your matching black lace lingerie a sight to his eyes. He immediately put his hand to the back of your knee to pull you on the bed on top of him, but you pullled back, chuckling at him.

“Patience, my baby boy.”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath, pulling his hand back to himself as he watched you undo your bra and let it slip down your shoulders and onto the floor. His mouth watered at sight of your breasts, soft and heavy and perfectly shaped. He held himself back from touching you, even as his cock was completely hard against his torso by now. Your panties came down next, and when you bent down to take off your heels, he stopped you by your wrists, “c-can you not take them off yet?” he asked you, then added in a sweeter voice, “please?”

There was a smile on your face. “Of course, anything for my baby.”

Jihoon’s cheeks grew red a little again, and he looked up at you expectantly.

“What do you want, hoonie?” you cooed softly, cupping his cheek in your right hand, brushing a thumb on it slowly.

“I-i want you,” jihoon said shyly, embarrassed at stuttering the way he did. 

You laugh at him. “You want me? You are gonna have to earn it baby.”

You gently guided his face to your crotch, lifting your one leg up on the bed to give him access. For jihoon, it was nothing short of a dream come true, to have his face smushed over the paradise of your pussy. He held your juicy thighs for support, as he licked a stripe between your folds. In return, he felt your grip on his hair tightening, pulling against his scalp. He was lapping you up like a dog after that. You were wet. So wet. And he wanted to drink all of your juices.

You were moaning softly above him as pushed you by your thighs closer to his face, sliding a tongue into your heat as his nose pressed against your clit. He couldnt help but want more. It wasn’t his fault, you had conditioned him to want the best of everything by spoiling him like that. 

“Baby, can you sit on my face?” he asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, and you nodded in a yes immediately. He let his body fall back on the bed and you scooted over to his head. You were still holding yourself up, trying not to squish his face. But jihoon wanted exactly for you to squish his face down, to be pressed against your pussy till he couldn’t breathe. So he pulled your thighs down so you were sitting on his face like it was a fucking stool.

He heard you gasp a little when his tongue was right back at action. He suckled on your clit a little, not enough to drive you over the edge, but just enough to make you moan above him. He put his tongue back in its place inside your vagina and he suddenly wished he had two tongues so he could simultaneously fuck you with one and play with your clit with the other. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that choice, so he simply settled on performing the best oral he ever has eith only one tongue.

His pace wasn’t too fast, so to make your experience last longer and better, but not so slow it would be annoying for you. It was the perfect pace to get you moaning. When he felt your thighs start to shake a little, he knew you were close. He put his mouth over your clit once again, sucking harder to ride you to your high, until you were wetting his face with your cum. Fuck, he couldn’t believe he made you squirt for his first time.

You scooted back to sit on his chest now, stabilizing yourself after the amazing orgasm jihoon gave you. He rubbed comforting small and warm circles on your thighs, until you were down from you high, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. 

“was I good?”

“So good, baby,” you say, leaning down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. “Gon’ make you feel s’good,” you say against his lips. 

You both reposistion so that jihoon was lying down straight on the bed,his head supported by your pillows as you hovered on top of him, your knees encaging either sides of his hips. You kissed him again, your tongue finding it's way in his mouth, making him gasp, his hands gripping your shoulders with need. 

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” You ask gently.

“Yes.” 

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Mh,” Jihoon nods. He usually dominates his way in bed. He's good at it, doing all the work add giving his partners complete pleasure. But he's taken it before, and he can take it now too. He wants to take it. He wants to take you. “I want you so bad, y/n.” 

He doesn't know how you do it, make him feel all weak and submissive for you. He waits patiently as you climb off him to get your strap-on. His palms are sweating and his cock is as hard as it can be as he watched you put on the harness. He didn't think someone could look as elegant and beautiful as you did while putting on a strap on.

The silicon end of the strap was a hot angry red, and matched with the red heels you still wore and your red lips intact from the smudge-proof lipstick makes Jihoon want to moan just looking at you. It's impossible for any being to look as sexy as you did at that moment. When you climbed back on the bed, pulling a lube bottle from the night table, his mouth almost watered at the sight of you.

You got between his legs, pulling his knees to either side of your hips so his ass was raised just enough for you to slip a hand under. You coated your fingers with an adequate amount of lube before circling his puckering hole, slipping in a digit. It made Jihoon arch his back with a moan muffled by his arm covering his mouth. 

He'd cleaned himself before meeting you, but he was still tight. Your fingers were gentle, easing him at a comfortable pace. You leaned back down to his neck, nipping over the skin to mark your territory. You pushed his arm from his mouth, “let me hear you, beautiful.” 

Jihoon was very vocal in bed, more so when he was submissive. Your fingers felt amazing on him. When he eased around one, you pushed another finger in, your hand caressing his thighs comfortingly. 

Your fingers curled inside him, close enough to his prostate, making him whimper your name. You move up again, hungry for his lips, kissing him messily and sloppily as he moans against your mouth. 

“Baby, do you think you're ready yet?” You ask him and he nods positively. Your silicone cock is big, bigger than him probably, but he thinks he could take you now. Besides, he'd like a little stretch of it too.

You smile against his lips, taking out your fingers and coating your cock with more lube. You enter the tip first, watching the man under you press his face into the pillow beside him, his drool sticking out as he moaned, taking the rest of it too. He relaxed around it, giving you a go to move.

You slam your hips against his, earning another loud sound from him. You couldn't care less about making noise, you lived in a penthouse with thick walls. You wanted to hear Jihoon moan and whimper your name, drink in his sweet noises. 

As you accelerated the pace, Jihoon arched his back, whimpering little ah-ah-ah’s, clutching the bedsheets under him you held his thighs up, hosting his right knee on your shoulder to get the perfect angle to get to his prostate every time. 

You loved the way Jihoon fell apart under you. You could tell he was close already, so you take hold of his leaking cock, giving it attention it needed finally. Not long after Jihoon is shooting white ropes all over his stomach, breathing heavily. 

You bend down and kiss the satisfied smile on his lips, slowly exiting him as he relaxed down there. You took a few tissues from the night table and cleaned up Jihoon and yourself lazily before taking off your strap and heels. You lied down beside him, pulling a blanket over the two of you. You didn't need to be told that Jihoon wanted to cuddle, so you slipped on top of him yourself, resting your cheek against his shoulder and wrapping a hand around his waist.

“Felt good, baby?”

“Mm, s’good,” Jihoon sighed, hugging you tighter. Tonight was indeed productive. Not only did Jihoon get fucked up so good after so long, but he was also inspired by you(r red cock) and finally had a name for the track he'd been working on lately: Ruby.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I love your writing so much!! I'm currently loving your freelance inventor series! I don't see a lot of danny/bruce fics so it's always fun when you post one!! What danny thinks of the justice league, does he think they're just Bruce's extreme sports friends? Or his kids friends parents?

Danny first meets Bruce's extreme sports friends when Dick plans to introduce Wally-his first boyfriend- on a water skiing trip. It went a little hair-walled due to the misunderstanding.

He had been around the manor with some free time, so he asked Bruce if he could join once Dick brought up the trip and made a comment on how important things he needed to talk about.

Usually, Danny wouldn't have bothered, but because it was so long that thier friendship had started he felt like it was a good time to ask.

At first, both the Waynes appeared to be dancing around the subject that, for a second, Danny thought they didn't want him there. Not wanting to make them feel pressured—and a little embarrassed he had assumed he could tag along—he backtracked quickly, making up an excuse about flying out to see Dani.

There was an awkward dinner that evening, so Danny left immediately. He had planned on staying the night at Wayne Manor, but he felt he had overstayed his welcome from his silly request. Instead, he rented a hotel room in the more dangerous parts of the city.

Danny had been on the hotel's phone line all night, attempting to find a plan to take him somewhere close to Dani. He could fly with his powers the rest of the way, but he needed to create some kind of paper trail.

While he listened to the hold music of the airline representative, he felt a wave of shame. At that point, Danny had only known Bruce and Dick for a year- but with various breaks in between visits- and had thought that made them closer. Who did he think he was?

Bruce wanted their relationship to stay as business associates who occasionally hung out but nothing as important as a vacation trip. Danny had just been the idiot who thought himself more important.

Well, he would not be making the same mistake. He would only come back if it involved his work and would find his own lodging from now on. The Waynes had likely not know how to say no to him.

Idiot, Danny thought, pacing in his room and wiping away tears. Idiot. Stupid. Moron. Of course, Bruce Wayne doesn't think of you as a friend! Get a clue!

"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Fenton. A first-class plane ticket to Calais, France, has been booked for you on Monday, July 7th. Would you like to make this a round trip?" the cheerful woman asks him, and he sniffs.

"No. It's a one-way. I won't be coming back here for a while." The words feel like knives in his chest

She doesn't notice as she chirps "Alright then, that has been done for you. Thank you for using Wayne Airlines!"

Ugh, he even used Bruce's planes by accident. At least this will be the last thing he annoys the man with. The following morning, bright and early Danny is out the door with his suit case. He makes it all the way to the lobby where he bumps into a fretting Dick and some red head kid.

"Danny!" Dick cries. He flings himself onto his waist, squeezing with all his might. Danny is flabbergasted. "Danny, I only wanted Bruce to go on the water ski trip because I wanted to tell him about my boyfriend! I haven't told him I was bisexual yet, I wanted to tell him on the trip, but I made him swear not to mention it to anyone else, but then you asked to go, and Bruce couldn't figure out a way to tell you no without revealing that I wanted to talk about something important-but then you got sad, and then Bruce got sad and I-"

"Babe." The redhead cuts in. "Breath"

"Danny, please don't be mad at Bruce because of me!" Dick cries, rubbing his face against Danny's stomach. "I promise we didn't want to exclude you!"

Danny's heart melts, both by how cute Dick is and the knowledge that Bruce was just a good dad and not any of his insecure-inspired conclusions. "Oh, Dick. I'm sorry you felt that. I promise I'm not mad, and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me."

He leans down to hug the boy, grinning as the ten year old sighs. Then he directs a glare at the redhead. He looks about twelve and frankly, Dick is far too young for a boyfriend. "Who's this?"

"I'm Wally West-"

"I asked Dick"

"Oh."

Dick leans back. "This is Wally. He's my best friend and boyfriend! Wally, this is Danny- he's like my second dad."

"It's nice to meet you, sir!" The redhead gulps as Danny's eyes narrow.

"Pleasure." He says in a voice that means anything but. "Dick, sweetie, how did you get here? Does Bruce know where you are?"

"Wally and I...ugh took a cap." Dick everts his eyes. "Bruce was talking to his friends trying to convince them to go on the trip too. He wanted to prove you were his special friend to his regular friends."

A thrill ran through Danny. He was Bruce Wayne's best friend!? "You know I think I can take you kids back home myself. Maybe we can still make a water ski trip!"

Both boys blink owlishly. "Yeah...maybe. Let me just call Uncle Barry to make sure he's going, too."

Wally sprinted to the front desk to borrow their landline while Dick stayed behind, babbling to Danny about how he knew he was bi and how he met Wally. Mentally, Danny was drafting a lecture to give Bruce for allowing his boy to date a co-worker and friend's nephew, especially at this young age! He didn't let his thoughts appear on his face, only nodding and smiling between Dick's word vomits.

Meanwhile, on Wally's side, he uses the Justice League hotline to speak to his Uncle. His call was transferred to the meeting with all the original founders as he used the emergency code accesses Barry had taught him.

His call was placed on speaker for everyone to hear.

"Code Teal for B! Code Teal for B!" he hissed into the phone. The rest of the members sat up straighter and sent Batman looks of alarm. Code Teal was a spouse or lover who thought a hero was cheating on them because of the mission's old hours. We needed to come together to cover for them.

Batman was hiding his face in his hands. ".....Confirm Code Teal."

"Oh and before I forget Code Artificial red for Dick and me" Wally shouts, ignoring the imploding shouts from Batman or Uncle Barry.He hung up not wanting to explain that the boys had chosen to use Fake-out-make-out in order to convince Danny to stay.

He wouldn't mind dating Dick, but maybe later when they were both older. Not that Danny needed to know that.