#Content Video Box Offer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zfmda · 1 month ago

Text

current boyfriend prank on jjk men !

summary: you decide to take part in the tiktok trend where you call them your ‘current boyfriend’ to see how they react.

includes: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, takuma ino, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna, fushiguro toji.

warnings: only toji’s part which contains suggestive content and swearing.

satoru gojo

you set up the camera in front of you, preparing to do a food review. or at least that’s what your boyfriend thinks. adjusting the angle until the frame captures the both of you, the tall, snowy-haired sorcerer leans against the counter already digging into the box of mochi you brought home.

“hi everyone! today i’ll be reviewing all these new flavours of mochi with my current boyfriend-”

you don’t even get a chance to react before satoru freezes, mid-bite.

“CURRENT BOYFRIEND?!”

you blink at him with an innocent look, stifling a laugh. he looks at you like you just said something so unbelievable, it has him questioning if his six eyes picked up on the words that came out of your mouth. “yeah?” you offer sweetly. “what about it?”

“i’m literally the strongest,” he says confidently but with a slight pout, a childish expression on his face. “who’s replacing me, exactly? suguru? be serious.”

“you’re so dramatic, ‘toru.”

you glance down at him to see him sulking, cheek pressed dramatically against your arm as his next words come out partly muffled.

“i hope your next boyfriend can teleport you and pay for all your snacks like your current boyfriend does.”

“satoru..” you laugh, trying to brush him off gently. “it’s a prank.”

“i hate this prank, i’m never doing another tiktok again.” he pops the rest of the mochi into his mouth, chewing like nothing happened. “also, this one doesn’t taste sweet enough. six out of ten.”

five minutes later, he’s the one asking if the lighting was okay and whether his hair looked cool in the video.

suguru geto

suguru's sitting beside you on the couch, long hair still slightly damp from his shower, loosely tied back. he’s leaned into the cushions, scrolling through his phone while your legs rest comfortably over his lap.

you tilt your phone forward, framing the both of you in the shot without warning him. he doesn’t notice right away, too lost in whatever he’s reading.

“so today i’m going to answer all the questions i received on how i met my current boyfriend.”

there’s a pause and then he speaks without looking up from his phone.

“you want to rephrase that?”

your lips twitch, suppressing a grin. “ rephrase what?”

“current boyfriend.” he repeats, a dry but amused expression on his face. the phone slips from his hand to the couch, forgotten, and he turns his full attention toward you.

“mhm.” you hum, keeping a neutral expression on your face.

“you’ve got other boyfriends lined up or something?” his voice is low and steady like he’s genuinely asking. but the weight of his stare suggests he already knows the answer.

“it’s just a trend suguru, a joke.”

his head tilts slightly, a dark strand of hair falling across his cheek. “i wouldn’t call that a joke.” he replies, not necessarily cold but in that quiet and teasing way that’s reserved only for you.

he studies you for another second before reaching over to gently brush a thumb along the edge of your jaw. “i’m not just current.” he says, almost like he’s stating a fact rather than seeking reassurance. “so don’t speak like i am.”

“i know.” you respond with assurance, the playful tone you started off with fading away into a more affectionate one.

suguru leans back against the couch again, one arm resting behind you, fingers absentmindedly brushing your shoulder.

“good,” he says, calmly. “then start the video over. and get it right this time.”

you do as he says, pressing the record button again.

kento nanami

placing the phone carefully against the wall, you step back, making sure that you and nanami are angled so that it captures both of your figures.

before recording, you convinced your boyfriend, nanami, to film an outfit check for your tiktok. it had taken surprisingly little convincing to get him to film a quick outfit video with you. he hadn’t questioned it, only nodding once before following along, as he always does. motivated less by interest in the task itself and more by the simple knowledge that it makes you happy.

“so this is mine and my current boyfriend’s outfit for tonight.” you say, voice bright as you spin in a slow circle, showing off your dress, matching the detail on nanami’s tie.

nanami doesn’t say anything, you can see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to think whether he heard you right. the silence stretches just slightly longer than usual, as though his thoughts have paused.

you repeat yourself, deliberately now, accentuating the word so that he doesn’t miss it. “my current boyfriend’s outfit is so cute, it matches with mine.”

this time nanami looks at you, an eyebrow lifting up, his expression unreadable.

“current?” he speaks finally, voice low and a little flat.

you turn to face him, trying your best to not let out the laugh you’re holding onto. “yeah?”

he holds your gaze for a moment. “i wasn’t aware the position was temporary.”

the confusion etched on his face nearly breaks your composure but you end up smiling anyway.

“it’s a trend,” you explain, already laughing as you reach out to touch his sleeve. “i was messing with you.”

nanami doesn’t respond right away but you take note of the way the corner of his mouth twitches and he glances at the camera, then back to you.

“i see.”

leaning in close, you grin. “don’t worry, i’m pretty sure the position’s filled permanently.”

“good.” he says simply, eyes already drifting back to the screen as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in close to show off both of your outfits.

takuma ino

you adjust your phone on the stand, making sure both you and ino are in frame. he already has his hands out in front of him for the tiktok where you suggested doing the ‘never have i ever’ trend.

“you sure this is going on your main account and not the spam one where you post unhinged edits of me?” he asks while looking at the camera, eyes trained on the screen.

you roll your eyes and press record, launching straight into the video.

“hi guys, i’m with my current boyfriend and today we’ll-”

not even halfway through the sentence, ino twists toward you, blinking like he’s misheard something. his mouth drops open, full of disbelief.

“current?!” he repeats, eyes wide.

“what?” you question him, keeping your expression blank, like what you just said was completely normal. but when you see the look on his face, your laugh spills out before you can even pretend to keep it together.

“i’m not your current boyfriend. i AM your boyfriend.” he defends himself, keeping his eyes on you.

“yeah but you’re still my current boyfriend.”

“i’m just a backup for you, aren’t i? i don’t matter… just someone you see on the side.” he jokes, exaggerating his words to seem hurt, although the grin on his face gives it away.

you flick his forehead which makes him jut out his bottom lip in a deep pout, giving you those puppy dog eyes that he knows you can’t resist.

“anyways.. so me and my current boyfriend are going to do the never have i ever trend.”

“babeeee-” he drags the words, almost whining. ino comes closer to the screen, face filling up most of the frame as he pouts. “my current girlfriend is so mean to me.”

choso kamo

the camera is set up in front of you and choso. you’re both at the table, makeup products scattered messily between the two of you. choso sits beside you, posture a little stiff but willing, eyes flicking over the products with curiosity. he doesn’t do things like this often, not understanding social media trends, not really. but he said yes the second you asked, like he always does when it’s something that makes you happy.

a soft click of the lipstick cap echoes faintly as the recording begins.

“hey guys, i’m here with my current boyfriend, who’s going to be doing my makeup!”

choso doesn’t understand. he looks at the camera, brows faintly drawn together, and realises that what you just said sounds different. it feels different. his head tilts slightly as he continues observing, gazing up at your face before interrupting.

“what is a current boyfriend? am i not your boyfriend already?” he asks, voice soft and you can’t help but feel guilty for pranking him. he’s too sweet.

“what do you mean?” you ask, keeping up the act as he places his chin on your shoulder.

“i don’t like how that sounds.” he murmurs in a quiet tone, shifting his gaze from you to the camera then back to you.

it becomes impossible to hold the act any longer, a smile spreading across your lips. leaning in, you reach up to place a kiss on his cheek. “i’m just joking, cho.” you smile. “it’s a prank—a silly one.”

relief passes over his features and the smile that follows is barely there, but visible. his shoulders ease and he nuzzles closer, forehead brushing the side of your neck.

“okay. just checking.” he stays there, content as if to say thank you, for not meaning it.

“next time… maybe you can just call me your only boyfriend?” he suggests gently and you laugh, nodding.

“deal.”

ryomen sukuna

it was your idea to film a tiktok of you showing your boyfriend the new nails that you got done. the king of curses had no interest in tiktoks, let alone something as mundane as a nail reveal but after enough pestering he begrudgingly agreed.

Well, agreed might be generous. he sat down with his eyes closed, much to his dismay, arms crossed.

“so, my current boyfriend is going to review my new nails.” your voice comes out in a nervous chuckle, waiting for the moment he processes what you just said.

sukuna doesn’t even entertain your silly idea of a prank, opening his eyes and immediately reaching out to end the video.

“this is what you dragged me out of a meeting with uraume for?” his voice is low and sharp as he looks at you with annoyance.

“i didn’t do anything?” you reply, hoping to seem innocent as you hit the record button again.

“current boyfriend,” he scoffs, repeating your words like he’s tasting something foul. “what other boyfriends do you have? i’ll have them burnt to ash.”

the way he says it, so certain and completely serious makes you believe him. you have to stop the video, because the prank was a fail.

“you’re ruining my video, ‘kuna.” you whine hopelessly, although you can’t help but laugh at the subtle jealousy radiating off of him.

“well,” he says, voice low and unimpressed, “next time you’ll know not to try any of this nonsense again.”

his gaze flicks downward, landing on your freshly painted nails. a deep crimson that matches his eyes. a flicker of something unreadable passes through his expression and without a word, he reaches for your hand, his many fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“these suit you.” he mutters, inspecting them closely. “they should. i picked the colour, didn’t i?”

you smile, watching him examine your hand. the contrast between his reputation and the way he holds your fingers so carefully isn’t lost on you.

“you’re such a softie.” you tease, voice warm.

the look he gives you in return is stern and dangerous.

“say that again, and i’ll make you regret it.”

toji fushiguro

the room is quiet, soft with the hum of the evening. you’re laying in bed with toji, just enjoying the moment, sheets still warm from where the two of you have been lying, tangled somewhere between comfort and laziness. toji’s arm is thrown over your waist, relaxed, his breath brushing the back of your shoulder, steady and slow. the peace is disrupted when a thought crosses your mind. the tiktok trend you saw earlier won’t stop playing on a loop in your head. the one where people prank their partners by calling them their current boyfriend.

your phone is already in your hand, positioning it so that the screen is tilted just enough to catch the both of you in frame.

“i’m with my current boyfriend, toji.”

“the fuck you mean, current boyfriend?” toji doesn’t even shift right away. just opens one eye, then slowly lifts his head, eyes narrowing slightly as they cut to the camera.

you glance at him in nonchalance, fighting the laugh that rises in your throat. “what? that’s what you are.”

he raises a brow, propping himself up on one arm, the sheets falling low on his torso. “yeah? since when am i temporary?”

shrugging your shoulders, you play it off with innocence. “didn’t say you were. just… current.”

“mm.” he leans over and grabs the phone from your hand, setting it down on the nightstand without breaking eye contact. “gimme a name, then.”

“huh?”

“of the next one.” he says flatly, before continuing. “i want to know the name of who else fucks you this good.”

you fold under his gaze instantly, face growing flustered from his crude words as you reach out to push at his shoulders. “it’s a prank toji! relax.”

he catches your wrist easily and tugs you closer, voice low near your ear now. “try another trend like that and see what happens.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #ino takuma #ino takuma x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x you #zfmda

992 notes · View notes

onedingo · 3 months ago

Text

info post about weapons used in mass shootings/attacks!!

!!!!!! informative content !!!!!!

index/foreword: Adam Lanza, Dylan Klebold, Alexandre Bissonnette, Robert Bowers, Patrick Crusius, Guilherme Taucci, Fabiano Kipper Mai, Dylann Roof

post with pictures/visual content

1. Adam Lanza - Bushmaster XM-15

The Bushmaster XM-15 is a civilian adaptation of the M16 combat rifle. In other words, it is very similar to the M16, but it has been modified for civilian use outside of military combat. It is a semi-automatic rifle, which means that one bullet comes out at a time each time the trigger is pulled.

It has a medium damage capacity and is used to hit light objects, but can be fatal to humans. The XM-15 generally uses .223 Remington or 5.56x45mm NATO ammunition. It does not have stopping power (the ability to incapacitate instantly), but it is enough to cause lethal damage, especially if combined with the ability to reload quickly and a high rate of fire, it increases the destruction. It can be filled with 10, 20 or 30-round magazines, but this depends on state legislation.

Very popular for its versatility, which allows for customization of sights etc. on the part of the bearer.

2. Dylan Klebold - TEC-9

The TEC-9 was one of the weapons that became most popular in the wake of the Columbine massacre in 1999, thanks to videos of Dylan Klebold practicing shooting, and the photo captured by the school's cafeteria camera showing Dylan holding his TEC-9.

The TEC-9 began to be produced in 1980, and is a relatively large semi-automatic pistol, but for civilian and mainly police use.

It has a 9x19mm Parabellum caliber, a type of caliber widely used in firearms that originated in the German Empire and still exists today! The gun has a simple design, with a long barrel and a grip that offers good stability, as well as being able to carry magazines with large quantities of shots, such as 32, 50 or 72 [shots]. The gun was so successful that it was modified, giving rise to models that are automatic.

3. Alexandre Bissonnette - Glock 17 9mm semi-automatic pistol

The Glock 17 has a 9x19mm caliber and is known for its effectiveness at medium distances and with less recoil. It is a very reliable weapon because it has a high safety system, which allows it to only fire the projectile when the trigger is fully pulled. The standard is to hold 17 cartridges, but it is possible to customize it to hold 33. It is light compared to other pistols and is widely used by civilians. It is a semi-automatic pistol. It is also famous for its high durability and its fixed sighting system.

4. Robert Bowers - AR-15 SP1

The AR-15 SP1 is the original model of the famous AR-15 semi-automatic rifle and began production in 1960. It has a light recoil, which allows successive and rapid firing depending on the skill of the handler. Its caliber is the .223 Remington and it has the possibility of using the 5.56x45mm NATO although it is not recommended to put a 5.56 in the .223 as it can misfire and damage the weapon. The AR-15 generally uses 20- or 30-round magazines, but with personal customizations the gun can hold up to 40 or 100 rounds, which makes it very deadly.

The material is lighter compared to other rifles, but quite resistant, and the barrel is relatively long, which allows for greater distance between the target and the shooter.

5. Patrick Crusius - WASR-10

The WASR-10 is a semi-automatic rifle with a 7.62x39mm cartridge. It has a detachable box magazine with a capacity of 30 rounds. It is a direct variation of the AK-47, which is automatic and was built by the Soviets.

The WASR-10 was mass-produced in Romania and exported to the United States. Being a semi-automatic rifle, unlike the AK-47 (which is a war weapon), the WASR-10 gained popularity as a more affordable weapon than an AK-47, but very similar to it. This semi-automatic rifle has the capacity for customizations and changes from the factory original, which generates excitement for gun enthusiasts. It is generally used for training and shooting practice, collection, hunting, self-defense and more.

6. Guilherme Taucci - 38 caliber revolver

I'll tell you a bit about this one before I talk about the gun.

Here in Brazil it is very difficult to obtain firearms, whether a pistol or a semi-automatic rifle. The legislation is very strict, as well as being illegal, and getting a gun legally is complicated. To get one illegally, most of the time you need to talk to corrupt police officers and people linked to the drug trade (who control the arms trade), and these people, although they do carry out attacks, don't carry out mass attacks on schools or anything like that, which increases the difficulty.

The 38 revolver has the .38 Special caliber, which is about 9mm. It is a repeating revolver, meaning that with each shot you have to rotate the cylinder of the revolver, which requires agility and speed, as was the case with Guilherme Taucci. It is light and has a light recoil, which makes it easy to handle. It's a reliable weapon. It has a low-pressure cartridge design. The .38 and revolvers in general can hold 5 to 6 shots

7. Fabiano Kipper Mai - Ninja Sword

The Brazilian-made melee weapon with a stainless steel blade is inspired by the model known as the “Red Guardian Ninja Sword”, produced in the United States.

The weapon chosen by Fabiano to commit the crimes is a model that resembles a ninja sword. According to a relative of the accused, the knife was bought on a large digital retail platform days before the action that caused the death of five people.

8. Dylann Roof - 45mm Glock 41

The Glock 41 is a semi-automatic pistol with a .45mm caliber, which is a high-impact caliber. It comes from a variation of the Glock 21, making it more susceptible to putting more cartridges inside and is a very popular weapon. It is relatively heavy, which can make it difficult to carry. This pistol has a capacity of 13 cartridges, and Dylann put in 17 cartridges.

#tccblr #teeceecee #tcc info #info post

583 notes · View notes

kxsagi · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! I am a HUGE fan of your Blue Lock works! You write these menaces so well! 😂

May I request one with whatever bllk guys you like where the reader is a baker & takes them to one of those adorable cake picnics that’s going around on tiktok? (I just really want to go one! They’re so cute!!! 🥰)

“𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐫𝐬. ‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬”

a/n: THANK YOUUU I LOVE THESE MENACES WITH A PASSION AND I LOVE THIS REQUEST!!!

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, ness alexis, bachira meguru, yukimiya kenyu

isagi yoichi

this man is ecstatic when you tell him you’re planning a cake picnic. he doesn’t fully get the tik tok trend part, but if it involves you, cake, and a picnic blanket, he’s in.

he insists on carrying everything. "i’m strong. i got this." (he forgets the forks 💀)

you bake a round vanilla strawberry shortcake shaped like a soccer ball, and he legit gasps. “did you make this just for me?” he’s so soft.

he tries to take a bite without waiting for you to take photos and you SWAT him with a napkin. “i-it looked so good i forgot!”

he ends up with frosting on his cheek and gives you puppy eyes until you kiss it off.

“we should do this after every game,” he says with a mouthful of cake, “win or lose.”

spoiler: you start a post-match picnic tradition.

itoshi rin

doesn’t say anything when you suggest the picnic. just blinks. “what is a cake picnic.”

you explain it’s for fun and for ✨aesthetic ✨ and you’ll bake all his favorite things. that wins him over.

acts like he doesn’t care, but shows up in the color-coordinated outfit you picked for him.

“this blanket is too pink.” “shut up and sit.” “... fine.”

you make a green tea roll cake shaped like a cat and rin stares at it in silence before quietly muttering, “cute.”

you: “the cake?”

rin, blushing: “... you.”

lets you feed him a bite like you’re royalty, then pretends he doesn’t like the frosting on his nose. secretly loves it.

stays longer than planned just to lay next to you in the sun.

itoshi sae

he totally thinks it’s ridiculous at first. "so we sit on grass and eat cake shaped like frogs?"

but when you say you're baking it all yourself, he gets serious. “i’ll be there.”

he brings fancy sparkling juice to pair with your desserts like it’s a wine tasting.

you made a little tiered picnic cake with pastel flowers and “you’re my favorite” written in icing.

sae looks at it and just says: “i better be.”

he gets weirdly competitive about feeding you cake and making sure he gives you the perfect bite.

rests his head on your lap when you’re both full, pretending to nap while actually watching you take selfies.

“you’re gonna post the one with me in it, right?” (he’s obsessed and refuses to admit it.)

nagi seishiro

he groans when you wake him up with "we're going on a cake picnic!"

but once he sees how cute you look carrying the cake box, he follows you like a sleepy puppy.

you made a mochi matcha cake with white chocolate drizzle and little hearts. he literally says, “this looks like effort. you love me that much?”

lays on the blanket and lets you feed him bites while he scrolls on tik tok, until he finds a video of a cake picnic and goes “wait. we’re trendy?”

when you try to take pictures, he pulls you into his lap so he doesn’t have to sit up.

“you taste better than the cake.” smooth and lazy.

falls asleep mid-picnic with a piece of cake still in his hand. you cover him with your spare sweater and kiss his forehead.

mikage reo

he’s the one who suggests it. he saw it on tik tok and immediately thought “oh this is couple content. but also a great date idea, of course.”

literally buys you matching picnic outfits.

offers to hire a professional photographer. you say no. he takes 300 pictures on his phone anyway.

he brings a parasol, glass plates, fresh flowers, and a bluetooth speaker that plays jazz. he’s so extra and you love it.

he nearly tears up when he sees the cake you made – pink velvet with raspberry cream and sugar pearls. “you baked this? for me??”

his favorite part is when you smear a little frosting on his lips and kiss it off for a selfie.

“best day ever. no notes. 10/10. we’re doing this weekly.”

kaiser michael

“you’re taking me to a what?”

still shows up with a single rose and says “for my chef queen.”

you made a lemon cake in the shape of a crown with blue icing roses and he clutches his heart. “you do get me.”

pretends to be unimpressed but takes SO many videos of you setting up the picnic.

makes you sit on his lap the whole time. feeds you cake and licks the icing off your fingers just to fluster you.

“say ahh, liebling.” he’s so smug about it.

drops a cherry in your drink and says, “make a wish.” then winks like it’s a romcom.

gets real pouty when you try to clean up. “what do you mean it’s over? we didn’t even kiss under the sun yet.”

shidou ryusei

“you’re telling me there’s a trend where people go outside and just eat cake? why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

he helps you carry things and drops the whipped cream. “oops. guess we’re gonna have to get messy.”

you made a red velvet cake with little wings and devil horns for him and he thinks it’s the funniest, hottest thing ever.

eats it with his hands. full goblin mode. you're like “there were forks.” he goes “but this is primal.”

somehow ends up shirtless? like how did we get here.

puts cake on your nose just to lean in and lick it off. “mmm. sweet.”

makes it his goal to make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts. “best date ever, baby. 10/10. you’re mine forever now.”

ness alexis

SO EXCITED but also extremely nervous because he wants to look perfect for the occasion.

shows up dressed like a pinterest board and brings a delicate lace parasol “to protect our complexions.”

your cake? a pastel pink angel-themed sponge with white chocolate wings. he gasps.

“you really made this for me? you angel!”

flusters himself so badly he has to sip juice and fan himself with a napkin.

insists on cutting the cake evenly. spends 10 minutes trying to get the slices exactly symmetrical before you take the knife from him.

takes 400 photos and chooses one to post with the caption: my heaven on earth 💙🪽

when a bee comes near, he throws himself in front of you like a bodyguard.

“i’ll defend your baking with my life!!”

bachira meguru

he insists on helping you set up – carries the blanket in his teeth like a golden retriever and sprints to find “the perfect spot” under a tree.

your cake theme is “silly little monster.” it has tiny legs, jellybean eyes, and sour gummy arms and he’s like “LOOK, IT’S US.”

lets the frosting get on his face on purpose. dead serious when he goes, “this is part of the experience. cake goes on you, not just in you.”

brings bubbles, sparkly stickers, and googly eyes to decorate your forks. no you are not escaping the chaos.

starts doing cartwheels halfway through because “cake gives me energy!!”

ends the picnic by lying on your stomach and asking, “can we do this every week until we’re old and wrinkly?”

the answer is yes. obviously yes.

yukimiya kenyu

says yes instantly. “cake, sun, and you? sounds like a dream.”

dresses immaculately. white linen shirt, ironed black pants, sunglasses he takes off dramatically every five minutes.

shows up with a bouquet and lays the blanket out like he’s proposing. “only the best for my favorite patissière.”

you made a black forest cake with gold leaf and edible glitter. he bites into it and goes, “darling, this is art.”

definitely has a small mirror to check if he has crumbs on his face (he does. you wipe it off for him and he kisses your palm).

pulls out a vintage film camera and takes dreamy pics of you surrounded by cakes and sunlight.

“you make everything look like a magazine shoot.”

when a leaf lands in your drink, he goes “ah. nature adds her blessing.”

you end the picnic with a slow dance on the grass, soft music playing, the sun setting behind you. he twirls you once and murmurs, “you taste sweeter than any dessert.”

402 notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months ago

Note

can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty

Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well.

I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3. Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened

p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),

—

When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you.

They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all.

You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list.

Until one of them changed your mind.

It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty.

‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath.

Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.

As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne.

‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.

‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’

You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’

Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl.

‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.

‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile.

‘’They were really good.’’

‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.

Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice.

The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses.

Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back.

From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself.

He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.

You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college.

‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’

You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.

Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’

He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating.

Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later.

You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home.

Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs.

‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’

He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck.

The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing in the parking lot.

Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.

You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends.

You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them?

Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship.

You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier.

He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place.

He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away.

Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.

‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’

Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.

He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’

Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’

You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game.

Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’

‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it.

It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later.

When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him.

He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.

The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.

His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl.

''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.

The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again.

Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.

He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’

You hummed, although confused where he was going with this.

‘’This is better.’’

Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm.

The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.

You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.

Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.

Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.

‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast.

It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions.

He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight.

You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing.

Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing.

You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’

He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.

‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway.

You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy.

‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter.

You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''

Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.

You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…

‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.

Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''

‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed.

It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself.

His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.

You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.

Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him.

More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.

Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.

You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose.

Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.

‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.

‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.

You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’

‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’

‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.

Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’

Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.

The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.

Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand.

‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’

He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now.

You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’

Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire.

You didn't mean to. It was an accident.

The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him.

When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.

Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice.

You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up.

Your morning coffee was calling your name.

Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands.

You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax.

He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.

‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’

Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’

His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.

‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.

He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’

‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.

Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’

You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’

To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom.

‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder.

You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’

‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday.

Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom

You: You found us bus tickets?

Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨

You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀

Jace: He’s not

You should have known it would be him.

Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.

Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music.

This weekend was looking to be long and difficult.

Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving.

''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.''

''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''

Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?''

Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?''

At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.

When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room.

You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture.

Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew.

You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated.

Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake.

‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say.

He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom.

So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.

‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.

Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice.

Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''

You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’

‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.

At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.

At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up.

‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?''

You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.

The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either.

‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.''

You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug.

Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food.

You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.

Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.

‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''

The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.

You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you.

You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you.

Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’

‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.

Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’

Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.

Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide.

Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’

‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true.

The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.

Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face. ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’

‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.

But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’

He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you.

‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.

Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’

The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances.

What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway.

You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms.

The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.

The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it.

Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it.

It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.

—

House of the dragon taglist:@khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity @Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

#cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #cregan hotd #cregan stark modern AU

2K notes · View notes

mountainsandmayhem · 11 months ago

Text

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

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

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

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

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

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

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

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

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

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spanking, five.

Whips and Crops, five.

Paddles, five.

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

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

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

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

Next Chapter

1K notes · View notes

live-laugh-lenney · 3 months ago

Text

number one fan | george clarke

summary; yn is the biggest supporter at wembley stadium for george during his appearance at the sidemen charity match.

word count; 2.9k

** warnings; slight mention of sex but just pure, sickening fluff. **

just a little something quick, short and sweet to celebrate the charity match - the atmosphere was unreal and i'm so glad to say i was there to witness george scoring his goal at wembley. the best day of my life and i would do it all over again. <33 (i am going to include the day of the charity match in my current WIP fic - bestfriend!george/boyfriend!arthur - so i will go into more detail about this day in that!). let me know what you think. enjoy! x

The atmosphere of Wembley Stadium felt suffocating to YN.

But it was a good kind of suffocating if the word ‘suffocating’ had a positive connotation to it.

It was electric, filled with so much anticipation, filled with bubbling excitement as people gathered from all over the country, with some travelling from all over the world, to support their favourite content creators in something that would be classed as historic for those in the career path of social media.

The loudness and the intensity of an almost full stadium, as the minutes on the screens ticked by till kick-off, was slightly overwhelming for her and she could feel the familiar feeling of nerves bubbling low in her belly and it felt a little strange for her to have been there for a football match as opposed to a concert. Because the last time she had been there was for a Harry Styles concert during a London heatwave yet, this time, it was a whole different experience. This was Wembley Stadium, the home of English football, and she was eager to experience the unique vibe it offered for the next three hours, ready to soak in every moment.

It felt even stranger for her to have been there for someone she knew personally. The same someone she got to go home with afterwards and the same someone who (almost) everyone in the stadium had come to see and it gave her a feeling of superiority because she was the lucky one who got to kiss him once she saw him after, who got to take him home, who got to give him a massage as he laid in bed, who got to support him and be known as his number one supporter… she was one step ahead of everyone who had come to see him that day and, deep down, she relished in that feeling.

She’d travelled in with the two Arthur’s, since they were coming from the same part of London together and she didn’t want to travel on her own whilst George travelled in on a coach-load of Youtubers prepped in their kits for the day, feeling at ease knowing she could follow them and have her nerves calmed because they’d make sure to keep her mind free of any panic and anxiety she had about the day. Hearing their nonsense on the tube as they nattered about upcoming Youtube video ideas they were looking forward to filming, chiming in on how she really wanted to participate in a ‘Platform Roulette’ whenever they were next planning one and insisting she’d be able to keep up with the rate they drank at, taking pictures and videos of their day so she could document it all on TikTok and so George could use it in a video because, no doubt, he was going to put out a little something to show his gratitude to the opportunity he was given.

As each seat gained an occupant around her, her eyes dragged slowly from row to row as seats were filling up and she still couldn’t comprehend how she was stood in a box, amongst everyone else’s friends and family as they gathered for the huge event, ready to watch her boyfriend run the length of the pitch for under ninety minutes. Behind her, she was graced with Emily and her partner as well as George’s mum and dad, and she felt a lot more relaxed knowing they felt the same way she did; they were all in this together.

“Say hello to TikTok, lovely,” Emily insisted, holding out her phone in YN’s direction so she could wave and give the camera a shy smile and she graciously obliged, saying the sweetest ‘hello’ before Emily saved the video and put her phone back into her pocket, “I’m taking a page out of George’s book today and filming a little ‘day in the life of watching my baby brother play at Wembley’ and we all know the girlies want to see you.”

“I’m sure they only want to see George,” YN laughed, pushing her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and situating herself a little more comfortably in her chair so she could still have a face-to-face conversation with George’s family but still have an eye on the pitch as they watched the players warm-up on the grass, and Emily shook her head, “I tend not to look at comments from people, really.”

“Well, you should have a little nosey look every now and then. They love you and George together,” she claimed and YN’s cheeks felt like they were hotting up, “besides, I’d have a few choice words for them if they ever choose to upset you. George can handle himself but I’ve got your back,” she gave YN’s cheeks a little pinch with her fingers and grinned at her playfully, “we love you, George loves you, that’s all that matters right?”

YN nodded shyly.

The way his family had welcomed her in, it felt so wholesome in her eyes. How they made her feel part of the family from the moment he took her back to Bristol for a weekend, how they showed interest in her life and asked her questions about her and her own family, how they gave her so much love for someone they’d only just met. Being sat with them, during a milestone that was huge for George and his career, made her feel so warm on the inside.

“Speaking of George,” YN took a glance across to where he was performing the warm-up in front of the crowd before she looked back to his sister,, “I can’t believe we’re here for him.”

“I remember the day he phoned us up and asked us if we wanted to come and watch,” George’s mum chimed in, looking up from her phone, momentarily taking a break from scrolling through some of the pictures she’d already taken that day, “I think his dad nearly had a heart attack when he mentioned he was playing on this pitch.”

“It’s not every day that your son says he’s playing football at a sold-out Wembley stadium,” his dad exclaimed, completely decked out in merchandise that made YN want to cry over because he looked so supportive, “there wasn’t a chance we were missing this.”

YN understood the significance of how much the opportunity meant to George.

The night before, as they bid farewell to each other, she could sense his anxiety and apprehension. The loving embrace they shared in the entryway of her flat, with his bag packed at their feet, was a poignant moment for both of them. George was visibly nervous and nauseous, knowing he would soon be standing on a stage in front of ninety-thousand people, all gathered for a noble cause. Despite his usual outward display of confidence, the jokes he’d make to bring lightheartedness to any room he was in, George confided in YN about his inner turmoil.

He admitted to shedding tears, overwhelmed by the pressure to perform well and the fear of not measuring up to the expectations of his audience and he likened his feelings to that of 'imposter syndrome', as he prepared to share the stage with the very YouTubers he had idolized in his youth.

At that moment, all George longed for was YN's presence and her growing support. He found solace in her comforting embrace, knowing that her unwavering belief in him would help him overcome his fears and insecurities. As they parted ways that night, YN remained a source of strength and reassurance for George, providing him with the courage he needed to face the challenges that lay ahead.

---

“I just wish you could come with me tonight,” he pouted, eyes glossed over with tears and YN’s heart broke as he stood before her. He looked like a child who was scared to partake in the school play. “I know it’s silly to get so emotional but, I just want to live this moment with you. You’ve been by my side since the beginning of all of this that’s happening in my life. You’ve never let me do things alone, you’ve always held my hand, you’ve always made sure you were there for me.”

“It’s only one night,” she cooed softly, running a hand through his hair and letting her fingers curl in the curls at the back of his head, “I’ll see you in less than 12 hours, you silly boy.”

“I know but I want to live in the moment with you,” he sighed heavily and rolled his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he took an aching swallow, “and I feel so out of place there. Training today, I was amongst the likes of MrBeast and Logan Paul. Speed, as well. It just doesn’t feel right. It feels like I’m checking off a box and that’s the worst way to look at it because they’re my friends.”

“You deserve all of the successes that happen to you, George,” she reminded him and he brought his head back to look at her, her hands cupping his face and he felt comfort in how soft her thumbs felt as they dragged across his cheeks and collected the moisture of his emotions from his skin, “I’m so proud of you, I love you, and I can’t wait to be there tomorrow. Cheering you on with your family, with your friends, with all those fans of yours who have come to watch as you live out your dream.”

“Don’t forget to wear the shirt, will you?”

“Of course not,” she shook her head softly. Her Sidemen FC match shirt, with ‘Clarkey’ written across the back of her shoulders and the number ‘8’ embellished underneath it, was folded up neatly with the rest of her outfit - ripped and baggy jeans and one of George’s zip-up hoodies that she thought would act as some good luck - and she truly felt like she was a WAG and she wondered if this was how Talia, Freya and Faith felt before the first Sidemen match they ever attended. “I’m going to wear it with pride. I don’t think I’ll take it off for a while.”

“What if I take it off for you?”

“Only if you score,” she grinned at him with a glint of cheekiness in her eyes and it was enough to bring a wide, face-splitting grin to his mouth, “seriously. If you score, you can do whatever you want with me when we get back home.”

---

Eighty-eight minutes.

There were two minutes left in the game, two minutes left before chaos ensued as they rushed to get the winner’s podium set up, two minutes left for one of them to gain the winning coal to keep it from a tied eight-all score at the end. To her right was ArthurTV, visibly nervous whilst he chewed on his nails as his knee bounced up and down and occasionally bumped against hers, and to her left was Max, who was oblivious to the heightened atmosphere but had his eyes glued to the players on the pitch and she was certain he was looking for George but, then again, so was she and about half of the fans in Wembley Stadium.

As the clock ticked down, the anticipation grew palpable, each second feeling like an eternity. The stakes were high, and the pressure was mounting for the players on the field. The outcome of the game would soon be decided, and the tension in the stadium was almost tangible.

A corner kick from Tobi, a poor touch from AngryGinge, and suddenly the stadium erupted into cheers and it took YN a brief moment to realise just who was on the other end of Tobi’s cross into the box.

“Oh, my god!”

Arthur turned to YN as everyone around them stood to their feet with their arms punching the air in excitement as they celebrated the ball going into the back of the net, grabbing her shoulders and giving her an enthusiastic shake whilst her own hands came up to cover her mouth in pure shock, her eyes darting from Arthur’s face to the pitch so she could find George to the screen that showed the moment her boyfriend got the final toe-poke touch of the ball as it crossed the line. A desperate lunge to make sure it didn’t skim the post, to make sure they got the winning goal, to make sure it was nestled deeply into the net as confirmation he’d won the game for Sidemen FC with their nine goals to the AllStars’ eight goals.

“As if!”

She couldn’t contain the smile that burst from her lips, her vision landing on George as players in all black had surrounded him as they celebrated together, watching as Chris and Will went over to give him a celebratory hug before they joined the rest of their team before they restarted the game. The way he sauntered around the grass with confidence in every step he took, his eyes scanning the crowd to see if he could find where YN was sitting, giving her a wave and blowing a kiss in her direction once he saw her in the far distance.

“If he’s just won that for the Sidemen, my god,” Arthur sat back down in his seat, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, “he will not shut up about this now, you realise that?”

“I know,” YN grinned proudly, clapping her hands together and letting them fall to her lap, “but I’m okay with that. I’m so okay with that.”

But it wasn’t meant to be.

Theo brought the ball down in the box at the opposite end and slotted it into the back of the net for his Wembley hattrick, which YN couldn’t fault his incredible attempt and considered him the player most worthy to get the only hattrick of the day, but she felt the knot in her stomach tighten at how George didn’t quite become the hero of the game but still managed to make his mark.

---

“Well, well, well.”

She turned on her heels, a bottle of beer held tightly in her hands, and she took in George’s appearance - freshly washed hair that had become fluffy and soft now it had naturally dried, the smell of his shower gel and an even stronger smell of his aftershave that he’d spritzed over himself wafted up her nose and she just wanted to devour him in kisses and take him home so she could have him all to herself. He dropped his sports bag down by the table that his family were situated at, using his foot to slide it underneath so it was out of sight for everyone and not so much of a tripping hazard to those in the room, and she placed her drink down on the tabletop so she could wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. His arms sliding around her waist and he held her tightly to his front, hiding his face in the crook of her neck and goosebumps rose upon her skin at the way his moustache and the prickles of his beard tickled at her bare skin.

“I guess I’m taking this off tonight,” he whispered softly into her ear whilst his fingers toyed with the material of the shirt tucked into her jeans yet swallowing her upper body, “did we shake on that? You’re not going back on your word, are you?”

“I was going to let you anyway,” she responded, hands combing through the mullet he had almost perfected and he lifted his head from her neck to take in his surroundings, “you did so good today. I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

The smile on his face seemed permanent.

He could see his dad, pushing through the crowd, with bottles of beer in his hands as he made his way back to their table. He could hear his mum behind him as she ushered his sister and her partner to get ready to bombard him with hugs and kisses as they professed their pride and their love for him. He could see his friends all huddled together in different corners of the room, how all their families were gathered in this space and talking amongst themselves, photos being snapped and vlogs being filmed from all over the place that he’d definitely be showing his face in.

Yet all his mind would focus on, at that moment, was YN.

“You can go and wander around, you know? We’ll still be here if you want to go and talk to people,” YN insisted, looking up at him as he scanned the room, his arm tightening around her waist as he pulled her closer to his side, “we don’t mind if you do.”

“No,” he shook his head, looking down at her and pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I spent all day with these guys. I want to savour this moment with you.”

“You’re such a softie,” she laughed, sliding her arm around his middle and giving his hip a squeeze, “I still can’t believe you scored a goal out there today.”

“I knew what was on the line tonight,” he said coolly with a smirk twitching at his lips, and he took a swig of the beer from the bottle his dad had handed him to hide the cocky look that pieced his features together in a lustful way, his eyes turning a devilishly darker shade than normal, “what do say about us leaving early?”

“You don’t want to go out and celebrate with everyone else?”

“Not when we’ve got some celebrating of our own to do.”

556 notes · View notes

yuvany · 10 months ago

Text

#LOVE IN THE AIR

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 and their date ideas𐙚

OT7 ENHYPEN x Female reader ;; CONTENT/WARNING(S) :: fluff + est relationship + kisses + not proofread. . . WORD COUNT . 964 ;; CHECK BOX !!

yu-note :: writer's block is kicking in again, and school work is piling up...

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - KARAOKE

Serenades you as much as he can. Sings ballads, pop songs about love and some of his own music. You cheer him on and clap to the beat of the music and applaude after each round. He courtesy in a low bow in a joking manner before walking over to you, holding the microphone in front of him, asking you to sing this time. "I can't sing, Hee." You try to avoid the microphone that is getting closer and closer to you. "Don't lie, I've heard you sing in the shower, sweetie." You are embarrased by this and you feel your cheek turn red as you grip onto the handle. Heeseung chuckles and press a soft kiss to your cheek.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - COOKING

He invited you over to his place. At first, he did most of the cooking as you watched him from the side lines, but you weren't complaining. Jay was certainly art to look at. Later though, he realises that he accidentally left you out. "baby, come here." He motions for you to stand beside him. "Yes?" You ask and he takes out a glass pan from the storage underneath the oven. "please layer the lasanga while I wash the dishes." Jay pats you on the back before walking over to the sink and letting the water run. When you're finished, you wait for him before putting it in the oven. Jay returns and sees that you've done an awesome job, and he rewards you with a kiss.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗬𝗨𝗡 - POTTERY

Thought it would be nice as he likes doing new stuff. You entered the workshop with aprons on you, the instructor walked in and introduced herself, explaining the short agenda. After the short walk-through, you and Jake are left to experiment with the clay on your own. You decided to make a smll heart shaped pot with low edges to give to Jake, and he had a similar idea. As you knead into the clay and shape it into your desired form, you snatch glances at him with his tounge out and you can't contain your smile. The two of you paint them together, and then walk out of there proudly. "I think you'll like what I made." He says. "I think you'll like mine too." You reply.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉 - PHOTOGRAPHY

Sunghoon had already envisioned you as his model weeks before he finally asked you to go to a park with him. His hand let go of your waist as he sees a beautiful garden and asks if he could take a photo of you. "Here?" You ask, walking over to where he is pointing, he nods and picks up the camera that hung from his neck. "Now strike a pose, baby." You followed and heard the shudder of the camera go off. Sunghoon takes a look at it before smiling to himself. You are curious and walk over to him and try to sneak a glance at it. He sees this and shows you. "Let me take a picture of you now." You offer with a sweet smile and he nods. "I'm sure you'll do great."

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - DIY CRAFTS

Wanted to stay inside with blankets and pillows making a fortress around the two of you as you observe a youtube video on how to make a paper bouquet. Papers of different colours were scattered all over the floor with the ipad admist all the chaos. It felt like an impossible tast to finish, but Sunoo manages to do the difficult past faster than you, and you plead for him to do it for you as well. "Honey, pleasee." He eventually gives in with a roll of his eyes after rejecting it a couple of times. After creating the first flower, Sunoo accidentally scrunched the paper and gives up. "For you, my love." He hands you the single flower he made with a wide smile and the two of you burst into laughter.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - CAFE HOPPING

It was initially a normal walk, but he spotted a new cafe that had opened and was itching to try it, so he pulled you along with him. The sound of a bell was heard upon entering the small atmosphere. He holds your hand as you two look at the menue by the register, and you tell him what you want to order, and he orders for you while you go and search for a seat. He finds you and shrug off his jacket and hangs it on his chair. "They also had your favourite here, so I ordered that as well, babe." Jungwon says and you nod. "Strawberry cake?" You question and he nods. "I heard that there's another popular shop a couple of minutes away from here, wanna go?" You see the excitement in his eyes, and can't tell him no.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - PAINTING

He is talented for sure. He invited you over to a workshop with him. His plan was to impress you with his talent, and you are indeed impressed by how well he can paint. If you're an artist yourself, Riki will sit and watch you in awe, his mouth hanging agape as he observes the brush sliding acorss the canvas. If you don't know how to draw or paint, worry not. He comes and saves you. Riki holds your hand that holds the brush and guides you through each step. When doing individual projects, he sneaks peaks at you from above the canvas and paints you a portrait of yourself. "I have a gift for you." He says, and you try to see what he's hidng behind his back, but he moves aside and hands you it before backing away shyly waiting for your reaction, "It's wonderful."

697 notes · View notes

shocymer · 1 year ago

Text

Want me to teach you?

"Starting off as journalism clubs buddies, you never know how your relationship will take turns after he offered to give you a lesson."

Pairing : Yunho x f!reader

Word counts : 2.3k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , college AU, gamer yunho, oral (receiving), size kink, big dick! yunho, slightly pussy edging, overstimulation, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

“There’s something between you and her. I mean like you’re in relationship or..?” Wooyoung asked him carefully.

Yunho’s eyes goes widen. He never thought of dating you in the first place. After breaking up with his longtime ex lover, he completely avoided the topic of romance. He’d been dating his ex since high school. But at the certain time they’re in college, she became a campus crush and immediately dumped him.

He let out a soft chuckle in response, “How could that be?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The atmosphere.. ehhm kinda heavy around you two.” Seonghwa suddenly chimed in while his finger moved in circle towards Yunho.

He raised his eyebrow, a thin smile form his lips after ridiculed by them.

“Nah we’re not. We’re just friends, that’s all.”

To be honest, he wasn't that surprise when they asked about it. It all started from two months before. You accidentally took a glance on Yunho’s phone. He’s immersed in Detroit: Become Human walkthrough video while waiting for other faculty journalism club’s member to come.

Then you happened to be walking behind him before taking a seat. “Oh you’re into that game too?”

“I want to give it a try.” He turn at you for a moment before his eyes glued back to the screen. “But I still figure it out whether this one worth it or not.”

You crossed your arms then slightly lean towards him in attempt to get a better view of the video. “Hmm.. It’s a shame if you know most of the plot through this. Like I want you to experience the true ending by your own choices.”

“Wait, you ever played this?” Surprised that you’re into gaming stuff.

“I did, but on PC. I don’t know if there’s any differences if you play it on your console.” You lean away from him.

Now, he’s more interested in you and leaving the video played alone in the background. Distracted by your little fingers fidgeting on the back of your phone unconsciously, as both of you deep in talk. He’s wondering why is it so small and weirdly cute. Then he glanced back to you.

“So you’re not used to play with the controller right?”

You nod at him, “yeah, last time I try it when I was in 7th grade or something. The grip was uncomfortable. Right after that, I decided PC is much more easier.” You paused for a second, “but sometimes I would love to try it again.”

He chuckled seems to know the reasons why. Proceed to clear his throat before he answered you back, “Want me to teach you?”

Deep sighed left from your mouth, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be mad at me the second we’re in.”

“No no, definitely not. I got patience as deep as the ocean. You sure know that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, definitely a saint in your past life.”

He laughed at your remark and how annoyed you’re right now. You smacked his arm, telling him to stop. Not too long, both of you getting ready for the club’s meeting as everyone already gathered in.

You thought he’d be joking. He never brought that idea again after the last conversation with you. He occasionally texted you only about the club’s activity or college stuff. Until a week after, he slide a brand new box of controller towards you.

“Better started now or never.” He slightly tilted his head, pointing to where the box landed.

“Yunho, you don’t need to buy me this. I- like just tell me when you’re-”

“Shhh.. save that nagging for later.” His delicate hand started to unbox it with care. Then he handed it to you.

It’s mostly dominated with white and soft blue colors on the side. Plus the kitty paw shaped the thumb grip, make it seems like a customized controller. You reach it in fascination. That’s super cute. Both of you think the same way, but completely on different matters.

Yunho kept looking at your fingers which is nicely wrapped the controller. His eyes following the direction of your little thumbs that moving uncoordinatedly, mimicking the way you’re gonna use it in game. Then, his gaze turn to your lips, looking at how cute and plump it is.

He shook his head, after that he explained to you about it’s feature, how to turn it on and how to charge it. You listen to him just like in one of your lectures. Remembering everything that he told you while nodding at the same time.

“Thanks Yunho, that’s so cute.” You looked at him in guilty. “I bet this was expensive right?”

“Well, actually not that much. I just want you to use it more if it looks like that.” He flicked your forehead. “This is my own wish. Don’t ever feel bad about it, okay?”

After that day, you spent almost every weekend playing co-op game with him. He patiently guided you from the voice chat. Dealing with how forgetful you are and a lot of complaints about your sore fingers. With that antics of yours, he only let out small chuckle or teasing you even more.

On the weekday, sometimes you met him in the club’s room. Mostly during the meeting or when you do the project. The moment you asked him to check your works, he’ll lean over from your behind and randomly put his hand on top of yours while the other hand is scrolling the mouse. There’s also a moment he covered the shelf corner with his hand when your head nearly bump it or he’ll immediately fetched the things you needed where it’s difficult for you to reach.

You never realize that, but not with your other two friends. Seonghwa and Wooyoung, they keep exchange glances across the room whenever Yunho and you act like a new pair of lovers. They’re a hundred percent sure sensing something more than platonic relationship, when the actual truth is not. There’s nothing between you two, yet.

⁠✧

It's 3 days before the exam period. The faculty journalism club already in chaos for past few weeks. They’re divided into two teams. First team is responsible with the faculty website news update, and here you are in the second team handling the semester end magazine. Your leader pushed the deadline earlier hoping the only left to do is printed it out at the end of exam day.

Your tired ass have been proofreading for solid three hours non-stop. Flipping through the revision sheet and going back to the laptop. Luckily you don’t have any class today. All of you agreed to finished it today. But alas, there’s only four of you left, and making it worse the other two need to leave too.

“Shit, I forgot to consult my thesis. I’ll be back at evening!” Seonghwa barging out in hurry. No wonder he’s literally your senior a year above you.

Not too long, Wooyoung following around as he got notification with a sudden class at noon. He’s cursing along the way. Of course all of you haunted with the leader’s wrath, considering how strict he is. You still remembered the looks on his face when the last project failed.

There’s only Yunho and you left alone. Silence along the typing sounds are the only sound that filled the room. At this exact time, most of the clubs room are empty. Either everyone still in the class or diving in the library preparing for the exam.

The work flow with him lasted for more than an hour. He’s occasionally sipping his iced coffee while working on it. He took the editing part, after that passed it on to you. But this time, his hand slipped, nudging the cup of his coffee. He could save it, but not with your pile of revision papers. It scattered all over the floor.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” He immediately crouched down as you do the same to collect the papers.

While collecting it in a rush, your fingertips brushing the back of his hand. Your face only a few inches from his side, making him shiver from the feeling of your warm breath against his skin. Then he turn to face you, staring deep into your eyes. Your heartbeat increase rapidly as he turning his hand to hold yours. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your small plumped lips.

When the tip of your noses touched, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You crushed his lips, kissing him hungrily. He pulled you in, till his back hit against the wall only to bring you on top of his lap while the kiss still not broken. He peeled off his denim jacket as the temperature keep raising between you two.

Gasping for some air, you pull out from the kiss. His index finger caress your cheek trailing down to you lips. You open your mouth to let it in wrestling around with your tongue. He let out small groaned at the sight of it. “I always curious how it taste like.” He lean in to you, whispering into your ears, “and that’s incredibly sweet.”

He picked you without a warning, gives you a quick kiss before plopping you down to the couch, then closed the curtains in swift motion.

Now he’s back to you, nibbling the nape of your neck, sucking on it, sometimes sunk his teeth beneath your skin. You’re squirming under him, gripping onto his hair as the sensation wash over you. He looked up to you, searching for your permission to go lower.

You nodded at him. He’s devouring your lips again while his hand pushed up your tight knee-length skirt, revealing wet trace over your panties. His fingers caress your clothed clit, moved in circular motion. You moaned between the kisses, you can feel he’s smirking on top of your lips.

He moved the panties to the side, then dip his finger into your folds. He chuckled, “you’re already this wet hmm?” Then he’s slipping in another finger, makes you gasped at how full it is inside. At first, his fingers moved back and forth slowly, but over time it’s moving faster making squelched noises due to how wet your pussy is.

He's amused by looking at the face you make right now, moaning out his name when you almost at the edge. He’s stopped in the middle of it, pulled out his fingers. “It’s not enough if it just like that.” He's immediately going down to yank out your panties, then sticking his third fingers into you, moving abruptly while his tongue flicking your clit, sucking on it hungrily. You grip onto his hair tighter, only strangle moan left out from your mouth before his another hand tried to cover it. You buckled your hip as you reaching out the orgasm, biting the palm of his hand trying to stifle your moan. He flicked his tongue few times makes your body spasm due to overstimulation. When you chasing down from it, he licked clean your pussy, then going back to kiss you, giving the taste of yours.

He take a step back, unbuttoning his jeans then pulled down the zipper, letting his cock sprung out from his brief. You took a peek on it with your half lidded eyes, still recovering from the last orgasm. It looks swollen, the unbelievable girth with it’s veins pop visibly, and the tip is glistening with the pre cum. He's stroking it for few times before lining it on your entrance. The tip is slowly in, you can feel the pain as it bigger than your thought.

He's leaning down to you, holding your hands, then trailing kisses on your neck hoping you to relaxes. “I’m sorry is it hurting that much?” He’s stroking your hair while looking into your eyes. “Not.. that much.” You answered him in teary eyes. He kisses your forehead then to your eyes. “It’s a still little bit more baby, can you take it?” You nodding at him. When it’s all in, he let it still for a moment so you get used to it. Then he start moving slowly while his hand unbuttoned your shirt, cupping your breast and slightly fondle it.

He thrusting it faster after he hear you moan in pleasure. His hand grip your waist, while the other hand busy teasing your clit. Your pussy tightened at every deep thrust, making him groaned at the feels. His hips moved erratically after pressing his hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge whenever his cock in you completely. Your nails digging in his clothed back as you feel the knot in your stomach. You squirted over him, making a mess on his shirt. He didn’t stop while your walls clenching on his cock, “you felt so good baby.” After few thrusts he filled your cunt, milking his balls empty. He pulled it out, then plopping himself beside you. Both of you breathing heavily while staring at each other. After realizing it, both of you laughing at how messy you’re right now.

⁠✧

“I’m baaack!” Wooyoung slammed the door open, his eyes goes widen at the sight of you two.

“Aren’t you guys tired? You didn’t move an inches since I left.” He saw you typing furiously on your laptop, meanwhile Yunho sorting out the papers beside you.

Yunho turned to him, “actually I need some snacks.” He gets up from his chair, then put his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Before they go, Wooyoung looked at you. “You don’t need anything? Or maybe you need some fresh air, you can go with Yunho instead. I’ll continue the rest.”

“I’m fine.” You paused for a second, “uhm.. well, maybe I want a smoothie.”

“Okay got it!” he gives an okay sign to you, then dragged Yunho along out of the club room. Yunho stopped his step, “wait I think I left something.” He ran back to the clubs room.

When he got there, he whispered something to you, “After this, do you still want me to teach you? My lesson isn’t done yet.” You flinched at his sudden peck on your lips. He smiled cheekily while leaving you speechless alone, squirming on your seat as you feel his juice spilled down over your thigh.

#pirateeznet #wonderlandnet #cromernet #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho smut #ateez fics #ateez fic #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez hard hours #yunho hard hours #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #shocymer

1K notes · View notes

clovers-housetree · 11 months ago

Text

Activities for Regressors Without Caregivers! (or just fun regression activties!)

(Although you're always welcome here if you'd like any form of comfort anyway! ^w^)

This one's kind of a long one, after the few tips I list, I've mentioned an app I use called Finch, which will be talked about below the cut.

Since that's the case, I'll put my little ending message here instead:

Knowing how to take care of yourself can take a lot of work and practice, but I believe it's worth the effort, because then you'll be a happier and healthier you! Especially if you can find ways to make it fun!

I'm more than happy to be here for you and offer my support in any way I can, anyhow! I'm proud of you for doing what you can, I know it can be very hard.

I myself don't have a caregiver for when I regress, so most of the time I end up taking care of myself! Here are some fun activities and things I do when I regress to keep myself calm and happy! ^w^

Paci mentions/pics not long after the first section for those of you who'd rather not see 'em.

♥ Arts and crafts! I absolutely LOVE coloring and making bracelets with beads, something not too complicated for little hands, but also something fun!

With coloring, you can buy coloring books, or draw something of your own to color in- even printing out a page you find online, coloring digitally, or tracing over something to color in could work! I prefer coloring more than drawing personally because I don't draw all the time, but I bet I could learn a little thing or two from the artists around here!

For bracelets (and other jewelry), strings can be hard to knot with little hands (at least they aren't those small, slippery clasps!!), but the beads shouldn't be too hard to handle if you're careful! Even just planning out patterns is fun!

Here are some My Little Pony bracelets I made, and the decorations I did for my pacis!

♥ Making playlists! Dancing is fun, and a good way to get the zoomies out, but you can just make playlists for any occasion! I have playlists that help me pet-regress, songs with sounds I like, adventure playlists... (Well- a lot of these are still in progress, but- you get the point!)

I also love those playlist videos on YouTube! Animal Crossing, Super Mario Galaxy, Minecraft and music box music are typically my go-to to help me settle or just make for comfy background music! Here's one of my favorites, shadowatnoon has lovely Nintendo music mixes!

♥ Playing with your plushies! You can take them on adventures, or make your own!

Like Toby, climbing The Great Pillow Mountain!

(This is Toby by the way, he's one of my best friends and a VERY good hugger!)

You can play games with them, too! Toby's REALLY good at hide and seek... Maybe you can find him for me? :0

♥ Finding shows to watch! I really like Paw Patrol and Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at the moment. Plus, you can look at agere content and fics from shows you like! People make really cool stimboards and moodboards, for example, and I like reading through all the fun stories people write!

Here's a silly picture of Rocky I found! :3

Finch

Finch is a self-care app where you take care of your very own little bird friend by taking care of yourself!

You can set daily goals, or for each day (or more specific ones as well I think.). By completing these goals, you give your bird energy to go on adventures! They usually come back with a funny little story or silly questions, because they're learning, too!

Through completing these goals (or daily, at least), you can get Rainbow Stones, which you can use to buy clothes for your bird, make them different colors, or give them furniture for their house!

They're also LGBTQ+ and disability-friendly!! :3

This is my little bird, Honeydew! You're welcome to friend me as well if you'd like, my code is: Z3E2T7VRK6

It's helped me learn a lot about taking care of myself and keeping track of my goals, and I get little rewards for it! I've used the app for several months now, and it's helped me out a lot!

"Fluttershy protects this blog! SFW interaction only, please and thank you! ^w^"

"Wouldn't show a kid? Doesn't belong here!"

686 notes · View notes

rafayelgod · 2 months ago

Text

🔞WARNING THIS IS ADULTS CONTENT🔞

NSFW, Fanfiction, Not for kids!, 18+, Dominance, BDSM

What if They Caught You Watching Porn in Their Bedroom? 🔞💦

🔞 Please be advised: This story contains explicit sexual content, including descriptions of masturbation and consensual sexual interaction, and explores themes of possessiveness and dominance by the character. Reader discretion is advised.

Okay Hunter (MC/You) here are five individual scenarios depicting how each of the Love and Deepspace characters would react if they walked in on you watching porn in their bedroom within this alternative universe.

1. Rafayel

You were sprawled out across Rafayel's ridiculously soft bed, letting the afternoon sun warm your face. He was supposed to be at the studio, sketching or dealing with some gallery drama. Perfect time for... research. You'd found a particularly interesting video online and were completely engrossed, the screen glowing with explicit details.

Suddenly, the bedroom door burst open with a cheerful, slightly dramatic flourish.

"Cutie! I'm home! Guess what I got you-"

You jumped, slamming the laptop shut with a speed you didn't know you possessed. Your face instantly flamed, blood rushing to your cheeks. Rafayel stood in the doorway, eyes wide not with anger, but with surprise, his signature playful grin already starting to form. He had a small box in his hand, likely a gift.

He tilted his head, purple eyes sparkling with mischief. "Whoa there, Miss Bodyguard. What's got you looking like a ripe tomato?" He took a step closer, his gaze flicking towards the closed laptop on the bed. "And what were you hiding?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in conspiratorially. "Don't tell me... were you watching something spicy?" He wiggled his eyebrows, completely unashamed. "Getting ideas, Cutie?"

Your embarrassment was a physical wave. "N-no! It was... uh... a documentary!"

He let out a light, musical laugh. "A 'documentary,' huh? Does it feature... anatomy in great detail?" He leaned closer still, his voice dropping to a playful purr. "You know, you don't have to watch static images on a screen when you have the real thing right here. Isn't my physique much more... artistically inspiring?"

He reached out and gently traced the line of your jaw, his grin turning softer but still full of knowing charm. "Maybe I could offer a private, live-action tutorial instead? Much more... interactive, don't you think?" He didn't seem jealous, just highly amused and eager to turn the situation into a chance to tease and flirt.

"So," he whispered, his face close to yours, "about that 'documentary'... care to share what you learned?"

2. Zayne

You were in Zayne's impeccably neat bedroom. He had an emergency shift at the hospital, giving you unexpected free time in his quiet, sterile space. You'd been feeling a bit stressed lately and decided a distraction was in order. You found what you were looking for on your tablet, headphones on, lost in the private world on the screen.

The door opened quietly, no preamble, no loud entrance. You didn't even hear it until you felt a presence standing near the foot of the bed.

You pulled off your headphones with a gasp, the bright screen still visible in your lap. Zayne stood there, dressed in his scrubs, looking at you with his usual calm, intelligent gaze. His expression was unreadable for a moment, then his eyes drifted down to the tablet screen.

Your face felt like it was on fire. You fumbled with the device, trying to turn it off, wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

"Honey?" His voice was soft, carrying an unexpected hint of surprise but no harshness. He didn't look away from the screen immediately, his expression remaining composed, though you thought you saw the tiniest flicker of something in his green eyes.

Finally, he looked back at you, his expression gentle, almost clinical in its lack of judgment, yet with that specific tenderness he reserved only for you. "Is... everything alright, Baby?"

You stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He walked closer, sitting carefully beside you on the bed. He didn't snatch the tablet or scold you. Instead, he just looked at you, his gaze steady and reassuring. "There's no need to be so flustered, Honey. It's... a natural human interest."

He paused, a very faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "Though, I must admit, I'm curious. Are you... studying something specific?" His voice was low, simple, devoid of any overt flirtation, yet the implication hung in the air.

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Perhaps if you have questions... or require further practical demonstration... you could just ask me, Baby." His eyes held yours, calm, rational, but with an underlying sweetness that made your heart flutter even amidst the embarrassment. "I'm always available to help you... understand."

3. Xavier

You were relaxing in Xavier's room, the one place you both felt truly safe after a long day hunting Wanderers. He'd said he was just grabbing something from his car. You took the opportunity to browse, and well, ended up on a site that definitely wasn't about alien biology. You were captivated by the on-screen action, forgetting about the world outside the glow of the screen.

The door opened slowly, and Xavier shuffled in, looking typically sleepy, eyes half-closed. "My Love, where did you put my..."

His voice trailed off as he saw you, eyes wide with surprise, laptop open on your lap. His sleepy haze vanished in an instant, replaced by sharp alertness as his gaze fell on the screen. His blue eyes narrowed slightly.

Your heart leaped into your throat. You slammed the laptop shut with a cringe. "Xavier! I... um..."

He stood straighter, the charm fading into a look of intense focus. He walked towards the bed, his earlier weariness completely gone. He sat down beside you, not roughly, but with a possessive closeness.

"My Love," he said, his voice low and serious, a hint of possessiveness already coloring it. "What were you watching?" He didn't wait for an answer, his eyes searching yours. "Why are you looking at that?"

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking softly, but his gaze was firm, almost troubled. "Do you... do you need something more than I'm giving you?" The question was laced with insecurity and fierce protectiveness. "Why look at strangers... when you have me?"

He leaned closer, his scent of ozone and something uniquely him surrounding you. His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. "Let me show you, My Love. Let me show you there's nothing on that screen that compares to what we have." He leaned in, kissing you with a depth that was both possessive and desperately wanting to prove his point.

"You only need me," he murmured against your lips, pulling you closer. "Just me, My Love."

4. Sylus

You were in Sylus's luxurious, almost intimidatingly large bedroom. He was out handling Onychinus business - something involving 'negotiations' and 'asset management'. You felt brave enough to occupy his space, and maybe just bold enough to indulge in something equally bold on your tablet. You were enjoying the explicit display when a deep voice cut through the silence.

"Well now, kitten. What have we here?"

You froze. Sylus stood in the doorway, a tall, commanding figure leaning casually against the frame. He wasn't smiling, but his dark red eyes held a glint of amusement and something undeniably predatory as they scanned you and then the tablet screen in your lap.

You snapped the tablet off, your face burning. "Sylus! You're back early!"

He pushed off the doorframe and walked slowly towards you, his movements smooth and confident. He didn't look surprised or embarrassed, only intrigued. "Early? Or just in time?" His gaze lingered on the tablet, then back to you, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Getting ideas, sweetie?"

He reached the bed and stood over you, his sheer size making you feel like a tiny creature caught in his gaze. He reached down and gently took the tablet from your trembling hands, placing it aside without looking at it.

"You know, kitten," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated with power and charm. "I find it incredibly... stimulating... knowing you're in my personal space, thinking about carnal things." He leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of you on the bed, trapping you.

"But," he continued, his voice turning more dominant, "didn't I tell you? The only man you need to study... is me." He lowered himself further, his face close to yours, his eyes intense. "Let me show you how a real man pleases his sweetie. Let me show you all the things you were only dreaming about."

His smirk widened, bold and unapologetic. "No need for a screen, kitten. The show is live, and you have a front-row seat."

5. Caleb

You were in Caleb's room, which was a chaotic mix of military neatness and personal indulgence. He was often away on duty, leaving you to occupy his space when you missed him. You were watching something particularly intense on your laptop, lost in the visuals, when the door swung open sharply behind you.

"Pipsqueak? Thought I'd find you here." His voice was light, playful, but there was an undercurrent of something else you knew well.

You flinched, spinning around, trying to hide the screen. Your face must have given you away instantly. Caleb stood there, already shedding his jacket, but his playful expression vanished as he saw your reaction and the laptop on the bed. His black eyes, usually warm with affection, turned sharp and intense, the purple depth within them seeming to darken.

He didn't say anything else immediately. He just walked towards the bed, his footsteps deliberate. He reached you and his hand shot out, not to touch you gently, but to snatch the laptop closed with a sharp snap.

"What the hell were you watching?" His voice was no longer playful. It was low, rough, laced with possessiveness and a controlled fury. His eyes bored into yours, demanding an answer.

Your breath hitched. The casual charm was gone, replaced by the dark, obsessive side you knew existed beneath the surface. "Caleb, I... it was just..."

He leaned over you, his body language dominating, trapping you against the headboard. "Just what, Pipsqueak? Looking at other people? Imagining things with someone who isn't me?" His grip on the laptop tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"Didn't I make it clear?" he growled, his voice dangerously soft. "You belong to me. Your eyes are only for me. Your thoughts are only for me." He tossed the laptop carelessly onto the floor. "Why do you need that when you have me?"

He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, his intensity overwhelming. "You will only see these things with me, Pipsqueak. Only me." He gripped your chin firmly, his thumb tracing your lip. "Now, let me remind you who you belong to." His kissed you, not sweetly, but with demanding possessiveness, a clear statement of ownership. "You're mine. And you will never look at anyone else like that again. Understand?"

#love and deepspace smut #sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #smut #zayne #rafayel #caleb

161 notes · View notes

the-m-is-for-minor · 10 months ago

Text

Tumblr (for newbies):

Reblogging ≠ reposting. You aren't stealing content by reblogging it, it's basically a 'group share' button. It also helps give artists/posts attention and you can reblog to interact with people. Reblog things you like.

Reblog bait. You can reblog it, but if a mutual hates reblog bait, you may tag it with 'reblog bait'. Or, find a tag with your mutual to put on posts they don't like, and block the tag under the 'content you see' tab in settings.

If someone reblogs your post, and you like their reblog, you just liked your own post.

(Sideblog section)

See my name? This is a gimmick. If a Tumblr says 'officially-(company/country/state)' then it's probably a gimmick! Check their content first because there are a few actual brand blogs, like Grammarly!

You can only make 250 posts (per email) on an account per day. This is called 'post limit' or 'PL'. I am currently on account 2, because I post too much. You may or may not hit post limit in your lifetime.

You can create as many sideblogs as you want, but you cannot like, follow, or send asks as a sideblog, and if you do so, it'll show up as from your main.

(Gimmicks)

Nobody can see your main from your sideblog, so you can have as many followers on your gimmick and none of them on your main

You will see gimmicks. A lot. It's fun.

You can interact with a gimmick as a non-gimmick

As a tumblr user, you have anon powers. You can turn any/most gimmicks into a pretty princess by typing something like '*turns you into a pretty princess*' into their ask box.

Nobody will be mad at you for making a gimmick. At all. There are like, 4 Jesus gimmicks. And it's great.

(General)

Tag a mutuals post with '10k to me', 'future 10k', '10k', or 'this will have 10k' for some fun chaos :3

Submit posts to PM Seymour's discord for MORE fun chaos

(General controls and understanding of Tumblr)

If you are in a youtube video online, you have broken containment

If you are getting a bunch of notifications from a post, you can hold down a notification from it or click the three dots on the post and click 'mute' to stop getting notifications (other than mentions)

You can also filter your notifications by clicking on the top left of your notifications tab and tapping 'custom'

The 'for you' tab of Tumblr is what the algorithm thinks you'll like based on your interests and stuff

The 'following' tab is blogs and tags you follow

On Tumblr, you can add not only extra notes in the tags but also regular tags. Spaces are allowed

If you get an ask from a Palestinian blogger, check yourself (you may find places where it's vetted/verified in their reblogs. You can also tell by them having no photos/story at all [no name, no information, just a donate link], and scams commonly use photos from Google images. Be suspicious if there's anything other than GoFundMe or something similar. PayPal is banned there.) or send a screenshot to me/somebody who offered to help. Then, you can answer the ask so people who can donate can see it, or donate yourself. DO. NOT. PRESSURE. YOURSELF.

Tumblr has a unique punctuation, in a way. which you will figure out on your own. An example is. periods to show a slight. pause

It reminds me of poetry

You can post whatever you want and you will find your people

Block people who make you uncomfortable and report bots for spam.

Welcome to Tumblr

Do what you want forever

#ask for more detail about a point if needed #or wanted #im summarizing here #and other questions #have fun tumblring!!

433 notes · View notes

minminbunny · 9 months ago

Text

Stalker X Stalker AU - Lurker! Han Jisung/Exhibitionist Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

You furrowed your eyebrows, walking down the stairs to open your front door. The doorbell rang but when you opened it, no one was there. Only a pretty little box sat on your welcome mat. You looked around and picked it up, your name was written on the tag. 'Can't be wrong address then,' you thought, bringing the box in. You tugged on the ribbon and opened it. Your heart sank at the contents, a bloody letter.

At least what you initially thought was blood, there wasn't a familiar metallic smell, it smelled closer to strawberry jam. You took a whiff and it was indeed strawberry jam. You stifled a chuckle and placed the letter aside, further within the box was a quokka plush, and it smelled like cologne. You brought it to your nose and melted, deep subtle musky, more floral than anything. "This isn't so bad," you murmured, looking deeper within the box, only to find a bracelet, it had a singular charm. It was about time you checked the letter, it wrote:

"To my precious love,

If you're reading this, you received my gift. I may have been eating a jelly sandwich while thinking of what to write. I hope the gifts are to your liking. The bracelet is incomplete, but don't worry. This isn't the only gift. One day it'll be complete with me by your side.

Yours Truly,

J.One"

You stared at the alias, trying to figure out who your secret admirer is. Maybe he's near, maybe he's long distance, you would never know. You held the quokka plush close, "I hope to see you too," you whispered, stroking the fur. Jisung gulped, watching the whole unboxing through a video camera he installed around the house. The cameras were installed during the previous tenant and they didn't tell you.

It was a surprise to him when he saw you move in. His heart pounded, his pupils dilated, it was love at first sight. Even through a PC screen. Jisung released a shaky breath, relieved that you liked the gift. He already had them planned to send out on specific days "Wait for me, baby. I'll be there at the end of all of this," he whispered, watching you with a lovesick gaze.

You knew there were cameras but you didn't bother to turn them off. You liked being watched, liked pretending you were in a show like the office where the camera pans to the person. It was fun, and you had access to them too, so it did serve as a security feature. The one in your bedroom was odd but it only spurred on your filthy desires.

You wanted to be on display but being a cam person or an only fans model might hinder your working experience. It was a risk you weren't willing to take. You plopped yourself onto the bed, quokka plush in arms as you looked into the camera, "I know you're watching me," you feint afraid, clutching the quokka close. "Are you J.One?" you asked, knowing you wouldn't get a response.

You plopped on the bed, "If you are then you'd know I liked the gifts. Would rather have you here though," you mumbled, feeling touch starved after all these years. "You know, I used to wish that the monster under my bed was real so I could get cuddles. It was desperate but the offer still stands," you said, showing a bit of your true intentions. Jisung gulped, hearing your sweet voice address you directly, "Soon, my love. I'll give you what you need soon," he said, grazing your cheek on the screen.

Day after day a new box arrived at your door. Each day brought a different charm, a guitar, a music note, a knife, a coffee cup. Today was just another day where you unbox your gift, the bracelet stayed around your wrist like a physical claim. You didn't want to take it off and Jisung loved hearing the click clacks of the charms when you walked around the house. "Pretty," you whispered, tracing the letter in your hands. Jisung got more diligent with his letter decorating after knowing that you kept it in your safekeeping box. The letter read:

"To my darling love,

I hope the day finds you well. You looked absolutely adorable with your little bracelet. Wouldn't you like to imagine me pinning you down while the jingle with each thrust? I fantasize a lot, my dear. The gift today is a bit more mature to say, if you're comfortable. I'll be honored to see you in it.

Your love,

J.One"

You gulped at thought, your breathing getting shallow as you looked deeper into the box. Your breath hitched as you took it up, a skimpy lacy lingerie. A simple slip on lingerie that didn't hide much to the imagination. You looked deeper into the box and found a pair of animal ears and a tail. A soft scoff escaped your lips, "You bastard," you smiled, holding it up to the camera.

"Kinky aren't you?" you teased, rolling your eyes. You held the outfit in your hands, "I'll wear them, on one condition," you said, crossing your arms. Jisung smirked, willing to do whatever you asked. You bit your bottom lip, "Call me, please. It's scary if I play alone, J.One," you sulked, jutting you lips in attempt to swoon him. Jisung gulped, his cock throbbed at the sight. Your pretty gaze made his mind spin.

He clicked on your contact, it was already saved to 'My Love'. You flinched when your phone rang, you didn't expect him to comply, "Hello?" you asked, nervousness evident on your face. Jisung chuckled, sending shivers down your spine, "I'm weak to a doll like you. One pity gaze and I'm on my knees, darling. Are you happy to hear my voice?" he asked, loving the way you pressed your thighs together.

You nodded your head, knowing he's watching, "Yes. You sound great. I'm glad to put a voice to the name," you said, hands trembling from excitement. Jisung cooed, "I'm happy you like my voice, doll. Now, why don't you get changed, hm? Let me see you in that pretty outfit I chose," he encouraged, palming his cock with his other hand. You nodded and did as told, changing into the skimpy lingerie with it's accessories.

Jisung looked away from the camera, not wanting to ruin his own surprise, "May I look now, love?" he asked, trying to keep his moans subtle. "Take a look," you said, bashfully showing him the outfit. Jisung groaned, squeezing his bulge at the sight, "Fuck, baby. You look stunning. Come on, give me a twirl," he instructed, tugging down his pants. You did as told and bit your bottom lip, "Can we go play now?" you asked, eager to touch yourself. Jisung hissed, letting his cock spring against his abdomen, "Of course, darling. Give me a show," he chuckled, watching you trip over your feet as you scurried up the stairs.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Spread your legs further, that's it," he instructed, watching you thrust your dildo in and out of your tight fluttering cunt. He zoomed the camera in, ensuring a 4K view. You arched your back, thrusting the toy to his commands, the pillow beneath your ass gave him a better view. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you gasped, pumping the toy at a languid pace. You needed more, your body craved more as you listened to Jisung's throaty groans.

"That's it, take it slow. You're doing so mmh good for me, darling," thrusting his hips within his flashlight in sync with yours. You whimpered at the squelching audio echo within your ears, "Need faster, J. Please," you hiccuped, clenching around the dildo just to feel more.

Jisung chuckled, "I can't torture my baby doll too long. Pick up the pace, darling. Pound your cunt like you normally would, Show how fucking good that cunt of yours take cock," he growled, hearing your broken whines and moans as you twist and thrust the dildo at a relentless pace. It was raw, needy and desperate. Just the way you loved it.

Jisung groaned, bucking his hips to match your pace, "Shit, shit, hah. Rub your clit, love. Fuck, hhgh, cum with me," he grits, pounding the fleshight as rough as you were, his eyes glued to the screen when you screamed out his name. "Fuck, fuck, Jisung!" you sobbed, creaming around your dildo. Jisung choked on his breath, cumming into the toy with little to no resistance, "Fuck," he gasped, filling up the flashlight with his orgasm.

You whimpered, thrusting the dildo to ease down your high, "Jisung," you mewled, staring into the camera. Jisung gulped, slumping back into his seat, "Tell me, doll. How do you know my name?" he asked, brushing his hair back. You gave him a dopey smile, "I knew since the beginning, Han. I always knew," you said, reaching your hand beneath your pillow to pull out his missing boxers. Jisung chuckled, resting his head on the desk, "Fuck, love. You got me all hard again," he growled, staring at the screen. You bit your bottom lip, "Good, 'cause I'm ready for round 2," you giggled, giving him a flying kiss.

AMAB

"Spread your legs further, that's it," he instructed, watching you thrust your dildo in and out of your tight fluttering hole. He zoomed the camera in, ensuring a 4K view. You arched your back, thrusting the toy to his commands, the pillow beneath your ass gave him a better view. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you gasped, pumping the toy at a languid pace. You needed more, your body craved more as you listened to Jisung's throaty groans.

Jisung chuckled, "I can't torture my baby doll too long. Pick up the pace, darling. Pound your hole like you normally would, Show how fucking good that hole of yours take cock," he growled, hearing your broken whines and moans as you twist and thrust the dildo at a relentless pace. It was raw, needy and desperate. Just the way you loved it.

Jisung groaned, bucking his hips to match your pace, "Shit, shit, hah. Rub your cockhead, love. Fuck, hhgh, cum with me," he grits, pounding the fleshight as rough as you were, his eyes glued to the screen when you screamed out his name. "Fuck, fuck, Jisung!" you sobbed, creaming onto your torso. Jisung choked on his breath, cumming into the toy with little to no resistance, "Fuck," he gasped, filling up the flashlight with his orgasm.

292 notes · View notes

fifty555 · 5 months ago

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ chivalry isn’t dead.

chivalrous women are a blessing because apparently men wanna be the damsels in distress now 🙄.

content warning; nothing much, you’re pretty cool here dawg 🙏🏻.

summary; in which you, ferrari reserve driver, yn ln, are the best gentleman (or woman in this case) on the grid— putting all those losers to shame.

It started with a door.

Not a metaphorical door—an actual one. The heavy, glass kind that seemed to exist solely to cause frustration when lugging around race gear.

You were walking into the paddock, already carrying two helmets, your race boots, and a backpack, when you spotted Lewis struggling with his coffee, his bag, and his headphones tangling themselves in a war against physics.

You didn’t think twice.

Setting your gear down, you grabbed the door and held it open for him, nodding as he shot you a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Y/N. Lifesaver.”

“No problem.”

Simple, right? Just common courtesy. But from that moment on, the gentleman rumors began.

—

The next incident was in Monaco.

You had a press event in the afternoon, but you’d arrived early, cutting through the grid’s hospitality area on the way to grab a quick espresso. You turned a corner and nearly collided with Lando, who was trying to carry what looked like the entire McLaren merchandise line to their garage.

“Need a hand?” you offered, already taking half the pile before he could answer.

“Oh, mate, you don’t have to—”

“Relax. I’ve got time.”

By the time you helped him organize everything, word had spread. Lando’s social media team had caught the whole thing on video, complete with a cheesy caption: Ferrari’s Y/N L/N—the grid’s true gentleman.

—

And then, there was Suzuka.

It was pouring rain, the paddock was chaos, and most drivers were rushing to avoid the downpour.

You’d just finished a simulator session when you spotted Alex and his girlfriend, Lily, standing under a flimsy umbrella. Lily was shivering, and Alex was clearly debating whether to make a run for it or wait for the rain to ease.

Without hesitation, you pulled off your Ferrari jacket and handed it to Lily.

“Here. It’s waterproof.”

She blinked at you, surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab another one later.”

Alex gave you a grateful pat on the back as you ran off into the rain without a second thought. Later, in the drivers’ room, Charles teased you mercilessly.

“Giving away your Ferrari jacket? You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“Maybe you should try it sometime,” you shot back with a smirk.

—

By the time the Austin GP rolled around, your gentleman reputation had reached legendary status.

Drivers were jokingly asking for your help with random things—Pierre asked you to hold his sunglasses while he took a picture, George handed you his phone to call Toto (as a joke, obviously), and Carlos even called you “Il Cavaliere,” the knight.

But it was Daniel who summed it up best. After you’d helped him carry a box of fan letters to the AlphaTauri motorhome, he clapped you on the shoulder and grinned.

“Y/N, you’re a better man than all of us combined.”

“Let’s not get carried away, Ric,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Aw, shucks, are you blushing?” He teased, nudging you playfully.

You weren’t.

—

The final straw was Abu Dhabi.

Post-race celebrations were in full swing, and you found yourself in the middle of a packed grid party. Everyone was in high spirits, champagne flowing freely. Somewhere amidst the chaos, you noticed Zhou trying to dodge a crowd of fans while carrying a precarious tower of drinks.

“‘Sokay, Guanyu, I’ve got it.” You smoothly took the drinks from him, expertly weaving through the crowd to deliver them to the table without spilling a drop.

When you returned, Zhou just shook his head in awe.

“Do you ever stop?”

“Stop what?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Being that guy—the one who always helps.”

You shrugged, laughing. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

—

By the end of the season, your reputation as the grid’s true gentleman was cemented. You didn’t do it for the recognition—it was just who you were.

But if the teasing from Charles, Daniel, and Lando ever got too much? Well, at least you knew you could count on the grid’s unofficial gentleman to stay above it all.

That is…until they all started leaving you every door to hold open and every box to carry as a running joke.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing yet another door.

And honestly?

You need to start asking them to pay up, especially the guys.

i made this on a whim because i saw a tt that said that dating the eldest daughter is basically dating a man and as an eldest daughter, it hasn’t left my mind 💀.

ngl, i did bridal carry a schoolmate off the field once when she fainted so YEH ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊!

anyhow, i hope y’all liked this because i got two more— wag edition and well, something— a blurb i guess 🤪?

potential face claim 👀? also, this is miya from gwsn!!

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #x reader #lewis hamilton #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #george russell #toto wolff #pierre gasly #charles leclerc #zhou guanyu #fifty’s fics 🐇#women are superior #i love women!!!#happy 2025 yall 😚

329 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 1 year ago

Text

unsolved (iii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, cryptids, graveyards

A/N: good evening. i am fighting demons (tummy ache). comments and feedback are always appreciated thank u for the love on the series so far i adore u guys sm <;33

Previous part || Series masterlist

A few days after the first video goes up, Bucky returns from his run to a SHIELD file taped to his door.

He opens to a black and white photo of him from back in the day, and a page full of his details. Full name, blood group, previous addresses, aliases, best colours to match his undertone, favourite Gilmore Girl boyfriend.

He flips the page to the section on his known connections, only for a sheet of paper to fall out. Sharpie sprawled haphazardly across it, in big red letters.

NO AUNT.

BITCH.

He bites back a grin.

The video does reasonably well. Not record breaking numbers or anything, but for once there aren’t TikToks of people counting how many times he blinks to make sure he’s an actual human.

Always a man of his word, though he has regretted it every single time, he agrees to a second video. It follows after a disgraceful bout of bitching and even pleading, but a few hours later, he resigns himself to his fate silently.

That is until the schedule for the next video shoot is posted to the server, and he sees it’s at night.

The night he uses to sleep. The night.

Before he can even type out his rejection, his door receives four sharp knocks. He doesn’t even need to open it to know who it was.

It’s like you could read his thoughts. Probably could. He doesn’t know the extent of your telekinesis.

In your hands is a large cardboard box and on your face is a stupidly big grin.

“Good evening,” you greet.

“Tell me the show’s getting cancelled,” he says.

“Nope. We–” you announce, reaching into the box and shoving something onto his chest, “--are going on a trip. Demon hunting.”

“Demon hunting?”

“To Westley Cemetery,” you add, letting the box tumble onto the floor as you grip its contents. “To catch the Westley Cemetery Cryptid.”

“What the hell is the Westley Cemetery Cryptid?” Bucky demands.

“Creature that lives in the cemetery, watches people from the trees and runs after you if you’re there too long. No known kills, but a couple of scratches and spooks,” you list off.

His face twists. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Uh, yes it is.” You rest a hand on your hip. “My sources told me so.”

“Who are your sources?”

“Twitter.”

Bucky stares at you without a word.

“It’s totally real. It’s got a Wikia page and everything,” you argue against his complete silence. “I believe in it.”

“That means nothing.”

“Rude.” You glare pointedly. “Anyway, point is, we’re going out tonight to the cemetery and we’re gonna catch this thing on tape.”

Bucky tracks your gaze to finally look down at what you’ve shoved into his hands. It’s a headband, with two cameras attached to it, one facing your face and the other outward. Night vision, he guesses.

He sighs. “How long? An hour?”

“Was Hamlet written in an hour? Was Sharknado filmed in an hour?” you exclaim. “Great art takes time. We’re staying out there as long as we need to. So help me, we will emerge victorious.”

Bucky stares at you. “Two hours.”

“Seven.”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Your will is weak and your spirit is cowardly.” You return his fixed look with equal intensity, if not more, which he didn't think was possible. “Three hours.”

“Deal.”

“Great.” You stick your hand out, and he grabs on firmly. “See you at 1am.”

“1am?!”

It is 1am, it is cold and Bucky is miserable.

But he’s there. In the cemetery. With the stupid camera rig on his head.

You offer him whiskey to warm him up, and he agrees.

You then tell him you don’t actually have any because you didn’t think he’d accept.

He hates it here.

The wind whistles around the both of you. The eerie silence is only compounded by the fact that he can’t see anything beyond a certain point. The night is especially dark and there is no moonlight.

He trudges through the patchy grass, dry leaves crunching under his boots.

The camera being so close to his face along with the fact that you wouldn’t stop singing the same three fucking lines of the song over and over again, makes him want to tear his hair out.

“That thing’s not gonna get near us if you don’t shut up,” he grumbles.

“Nonsense,” you hum. “I’m a goddamn delight. He’s gonna be trippin’ over himself to get to me.”

“He doesn’t exist.”

“He definitely does, and you know what? I bet your shit vibes are gonna attract him. Moth to flame and all that. Karmic justice.”

Bucky stares straight ahead, swerving to avoid running into cracked tombstones.

You go back to singing, but worse this time.

“What if we don’t get anything?” he interrupts, to protect his sanity. “No one wants to watch a bunch of people just walk around the dark for 20 minutes.”

There’s no response.

It takes a second for Bucky to realise the singing’s stopped too.

He stops in his tracks, head swivelling to look for you.

“The fuck…” he mutters.

In the cemetery, he is truly alone for a moment. Silent, other than wrought iron gates creaking in the far distance.

The leaves of the tree above him rustle.

Bucky looks up, squinting against the darkness.

Against the stillness of the night, he sees it. A figure stands tall on the branches of the tree, silhouette obscured by the leaves.

It leers down at him, unmoving.

Bucky doesn’t even flinch.

“Very funny,” he says. “Hilarious.”

“We’ll fake it,” the figure calls from above. “If we don’t get any footage, I’ll just get on up there and fuck around and you record.”

“Get down,” he demands. “We’re not faking footage.”

If this show had to die this way, so be it.

“Bore,” you boo, lowering yourself to the ground with ease. “If I didn't know any better, I’d say you don’t want to be a part of this series.”

“I don’t.”

“Anyway,” you say obnoxiously, “we won’t have to. There is definitely a cryptid here. I can feel it in my bones.”

“We’re halfway through the graveyard and there’s nothing here,” he shoots back. “We should call it quits.”

“You’re right,” you say, to his surprise. “We need to cover more ground. Let’s split up.”

That is most definitely not what he was saying.

But you start singing again and so Bucky agrees faster than you finish the same stupid third line for the hundredth time that hour.

Bucky is a man of dignity.

Less than five minutes later, he gives up.

He takes a seat against the trunk of a tall tree, in a relatively open clearing.

He figures if he just takes a nap then the two hours would pass by quicker.

Bucky has no idea where you’ve gone. The lack of light doesn’t help, even with his advanced vision.

He crosses his arms behind his head and settles back, eyes closing.

Not even a second later, he wants to rip his hair out when the stupid song you were singing reintroduces itself in his head.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groans.

The tree he’s leaning against shifts ever so slightly.

His eyes fly open, but he doesn’t move an inch.

Instinctually, his breathing slows and his ears tune in to pick up even the faintest sounds.

The draft whispers, and he knows for a fact that something is above him.

A branch cracks.

“Go away,” Bucky says loudly.

A second passes.

And then another.

“You’re supposed to be looking for the thing,” you shout.

“It’ll find me if it wants to.” He shifts to make himself more comfortable. “I’m givin’ him a real shot here.”

“You didn’t even look up.”

“Didn’t have to.”

“He could have been above you.”

“But he wasn’t.” Bucky’s eyes close again.

“You’re terrible.” It comes back muffled, and branches shift. “I’m headin’ that way. One of us has to put some effort into this.”

“Joy. Knock yourself out.”

The trunk moves under his muscles again and Bucky lets out a small exhale, settling back into the position he was in.

Until he hears you singing in the distance. Same three lines, same off-key tune.

Bucky drags his palm across his face.

An hour passes.

Unlike his original plan, he does not sleep.

He instead recounts every element he remembers from the periodic table.

Replays every Dodgers game from his childhood, and then gets mad at their shift.

Then he tries to recollect every fact he knows about you so far. Mutant, captured and experimented on, broke free several years before him. Met Nat along the way and befriended her. Telekinesis, slowed aging. Escape artist. Wedding videographer. Allegedly.

He just doesn’t get how you’re so goddamn chirpy all the time, given that he’d been through something similar and come out the way he had.

It had taken him a month to say anything to anyone other than Steve. You went out for brunch with Sam the same weekend you showed up at the compound.

He doesn’t get you.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t actually seen you in a while.

He checks the time on his watch. Nearly 3am.

He had a fucking workout in the morning and no lizard-man was going to be the cause for Steve outrunning him.

He pushes himself off the ground with a groan, and stretches out his sore limbs. Definitely too old for lying around a cemetery beyond midnight.

He calls out your name loudly, and then again, before waiting.

He hears bells ringing in the distance.

Bucky looks up.

In the shadows of the trees, he comes face to face with the same sight as before. A figure, standing on the branches.

“There’s nothing here,” he calls out, sighing. “Can we just leave?”

The twigs creek, and for a second he thinks you’re going to fall.

“Already told you I’m not faking footage, get down from there,” he repeats. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you at the gate.”

The leaves shuffle around before he hears branches break.

Something you say gets obscured by your movement, but you disappear again. He thinks that maybe you were cursing him out, and deservedly so. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He rolls his eyes, but starts making his way to the entrance of the graveyard.

The walk back is faster, and he holds back a yawn as the gates start creeping up on the horizon.

There’s no sign of you. He half thinks you ditched him here and went back to the compound. Or fell off the tree and were just laying there.

But he decides to wait, leaning against the exposed concrete wall.

Eyes closed, he rubs his temples and decides that if you’re not here in the next thirty seconds, he’ll just–

“Hey,” you greeet from right in front of him.

“Where the hell did you go?” he demands.

You blink at him, before holding up a wrapper.

“Got a sandwich. I was hungry. The diner was real nice too, I spent like half an hour talkin’ to the owner.”

He stares at you. “You just left to get a sandwich?”

“Yeah, and I got you one, too,” you reply, tossing him a paper bag. “You’re welcome. God bless that man, but those things aren’t cheap.”

“You’ve not been here for the last half hour?”

“I mean, I spent like ten minutes looking.” You shrug, taking another bite. “All I got was a bunch of grass.”

Ten minutes. Bucky had sat under the stupid tree for an hour.

“So you just left,” he says dryly.

“Yes,” you reply like it’s not even worth debating. “Besides, if anyone could find a cryptid it’d be you. A fellow cryptid.”

Bucky spins on his heel to leave.

“You’re welcome for dinner,” you call out, and he can hear you laugh.

He flips you the finger, and regrets it a second later when your singing resumes.

The sandwich is good. He appreciates it.

He even manages to keep pace with Steve the next morning.

What he doesn’t appreciate is coming back to fifteen missed calls and four video calls from you.

From: co-host (TGS)

can you pick up

From: co-host (TGS)

i know you have nothing going on in your life you are bitchless

Bucky switches off his phone for the next three hours.

Finally, it’s a threat that you will show up at his door again and Bucky finally video calls you back that evening.

“What,” he states.

“Took you long enough,” you huff, sitting up to adjust the camera. In the middle of the ordeal, Bucky sees your laptop open.

“What do you want?” he repeats.

“The team sent over the videos from last night,” you tell him. “At some point in the video you said ‘we’re not faking footage, get down from there.”

“Yeah.”

He hears you play the footage faintly in the background, almost to substantiate your point. He cringes at the sound of his own voice.

“Who were you talking to?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Heard you in the trees. Figured you climbed up there again.”

“Ah.” You click your tongue. “Interesting.”

“What.”

You hum. “See, that wasn’t me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Yes, it was.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you say calmly. “I’d left to get dinner way before all that.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. Got the timestamp on my video to prove it.” You look up at him through the camera finally. “So who were you actually talking to, Barnes?”

Bucky’s nose twitches.

“Bye,” he says shortly.

“Dude,” he hears you laugh loudly through the phone. “I fuckin’ told you you’d attract these things, you–”

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

558 notes · View notes