#This is (probably) the last one for tonight but feel free to send more in; I'll get to them in the morning

[hiding-under-the-willow]

BIM A4 BIM TRIMMER A4 LET HIM SERVE

The way you fucking read my mind with this one

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 4

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

Chapter Summary: JMKink is nothing and everything that you need and want it to be. Meanwhile, you are nothing and everything that Joel imagines you to be.

WC: 13.8k

TW: Warnings are below the cut in small red, feel free to skip them if you want to avoid chapter spoilers, but there are some descriptions of reader so I would classify this as more of an original character versus a blank canvas female reader.

AN: I actually cannot believe how many of you reached out all excited about September 1st approaching. From the bottom of my cold dead heart, thank you!! The more I write this, the more I picture video game Joel, so do with that what you will haha. Thanks so @ak-vintage and @lotusbxtch for beta reading for me. Support banners and dividers by @saradika-graphics. I recently got promoted at work (yay me), but the job is now waaaaaay more work than before, so enjoy this chapter slowly because I am not sure when I will be writing chapter 5.

Series Masterlist || My Masterlist

TW: p in v, dirty talk, sub dom relationships, age gap, alcohol consumption, flirting, voyeurism, description of a threesome and other sexual acts, use of sex toys, nipple clamps, female orgasm, talks of neglectful parents during childhood and loss of a spouse. Mutual pining.

“Hnnng, fuck yes, daddy.” He’s rutting into you deeper than anyone else ever has. Long, slow strokes of his heavy cock sending you into a spiral of white hot, sparkling nirvana. 

“So fuckin’ wet n’ tight. Fuck, sweet girl.” His deep voice devours you - rattling around your skull, echoing slightly as if you’re in a large, empty room. 

Everything is black; darker than the onyx pits of his eyes. You’re not sure if you’re up or down, and you’re either blindfolded or have your face buried in a pillow as he fucks into you from behind. All you can feel is the pleasurable push and pull of his thick, vein lined cock slamming in and out of you. The vast darkness and the feeling of him filling you so full is overwhelming

“Please, daddy. Please. I’m so close.”

The soft mushroom head of his cock is kissing right where he taught you to crave it, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that spongy spot had ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on it by now. Within seconds of him pressing inside of you tonight you had completely submitted to him; surrendering to the darkness, the sensation, the exquisite pleasure. This is exactly where you were meant to be, and he’s the only one you’d want to be here with. It has never been this good, and even with your limited experience you know that it will probably never be this good with anyone else. 

“Don’t stop this time. Please don’t stop this time.” You’re an aching, crying, desperate crumb of yourself; wholly at his mercy.  

“No coming until I say.” His voice seems further away with every word and dread settles in your stomach as it all starts to fade.

“No! Nonono. Please no.” You feel a hot tear run down your face as the euphoria fades. You can barely feel or hear him anymore as little slits of yellow light appear. You blink once, twice. After a third long blink your bedroom comes into view.

Fuck. 

This has been the start of your new three part morning routine for the last few nights, since that kiss with Joel, since filling out your preferences and signing all the waivers. Since being asked to submit test results and proof of birth control. Since Joel Miller became your Dom. Night after night you dream of him fucking you, and night after night, right as you’re about to fall over the edge, he tells you not to come until he says and you wake up.

The second part of your morning routine is a lot more cathartic and vocal - very vocal. Your newly painted cotton candy pink nails (anything to stay distracted and busy) dig into the soft cotton of your pillow as you pull it out from behind your head, pressing it to your face and screaming until your throat feels raw.

Fuck.

When all the breath is pushed from your lungs, you put your pillow back and kick off the blanket. Your bare feet drag along the worn down carpet of your bedroom to the cold and cheap linoleum of your bathroom. You pee, avoiding your clit at all costs when you clean up. You know you’re down fucking bad when even the scratchy 1-ply toilet paper is enough to make you almost crumble. 

Part three of your new morning ritual is probably the part that shocks you the most. You change into leggings and a tank top, slipping a ten dollar bill and your house key into the side of your sports bra. The old springs of your mattress creak as you sit to slip on socks and your lavender colored runners, that you honestly forgot you owned until the morning after your twenty second birthday. You sneak out of your apartment, careful not to wake your roommate and jog down the stairs from your fourth floor suite to step into the cool March morning air.

Fuck. 

After shaking out each leg, you start to run. There’s no technique to your form or a planned out route. You leave your phone behind, only sounds are the morning traffic and your struggling breath to keep you company. It's just you, pushing your body to forget how badly you’re throbbing between your thighs and trying to erase the feeling of him. As you turn the corner at the end of your block you can see the bright green grass and leafy trees of the park. Your calf muscles burn with every step, but it’s not enough; you can still feel him. As you reach the park your lungs start to burn; they feel like they’re filling with fluid. Your ankles protest with every strike of your feet against the concrete. Finally, just as you swear you’re about to meet your maker it happens, the sweet release you’re pushing for. Finally every trace of the ghost of Joel Miller disappears. 

Your legs slow below you and you clutch your side, wandering lazily around the park. The rush of blood through your ears is nearly deafening, almost completely drowning out the chirping of the birds and the trickling of the water in the large stone fountain. You suck in quick, deep breaths, essentially doing everything and anything not to pass out. You’re free from him, if only for a little bit, as you fight against what feels like death knocking on your door. 

As you walk home you grab a coffee - black with just a splash of almond milk, apologizing to the barista as you hand her the sweaty ten dollar bill that was tucked into your bra and begin mentally scheduling your day. It’s Monday, which means you don’t work today and you can focus on studying and laundry. Your LSAT retake is just a few days away, today is your last full free day, and you have to get as much studying and practicing done as possible. The dread of taking that test again has your hot coffee doing flips in your stomach. Getting some college letters would really help put you at ease. You know you applied early but it would be nice to know if you need to continue to push or if you can finally rest. 

When you get back to your apartment your roommate has already left for her classes. You check your phone and your heart lurches in your chest at Joel’s name across your cracked lock screen. There’s been no contact between the two of you since Friday night. You slide open the text with shaky fingers

Good Morning, sweet girl. Are you ready to learn? 

You bite your lip as you respond. 

Yes, please, Mr Miller. 

You stare at the text thread for a while. Although you aren’t sure if a total of three texts can be considered a thread, but you stare anyway trying to will more messages into existence. After a few minutes you give up, locking your phone and stripping your bedsheets. The trek to the laundry in the building feels like it takes forever and you rush back to check your phone. There’s no response but you do have a little red bubble on your JMK app. You excitedly tap on the app to see a new menu titled ‘Dominant Preferences’ added at the top. When you click it, everything from your Reddit wormholes is revealed.

 ‘Joel Miller likes to participate in bondage play, nipple play, toy play, dirty talk, oral sex (both giving and receiving), and fingering. He doesn’t like brat taming, but is willing to participate in scenes where his submissive needs to be put in her place occasionally. He never has sexual intercourse - vaginal or anal, this is a hard limit for him and his submissives need to understand that there is zero room for negotiation on this matter. He’s very open to impact play, but believes that only good girls should get spankings.’

You click off the little ‘Read and Accepted’ box at the bottom without hesitation. As if he’s waiting for you to accept, he texts you seconds after your finger has made contact with the screen. 

8pm tomorrow. I’m sending a car for you. You should dress comfortably.

The same kind faced man from your birthday waits for you outside your apartment at 7:30 the next night. He opens the door, smiling gently at you as you hop in; leather and new car smell wafting around you. During the drive to the club you learn his name is Arthur, but my friends call me Cap. 

“Can I ask you a question, Cap?” You ask as downtown comes into view.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you drive all of Joel’s, umm, do you drive lots of women around for Joel?”

He chuckles knowingly from the driver's seat, glancing into the rearview mirror at you. “No ma’am. Joel is a pretty secretive man. I have driven him places when he’s alone, or I drive Tommy’s subs, but never Joels.”

You nod and look out the window. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you.

Cap rushes to open the door when he pulls up to JMKink. The club is in a different building than Joel’s office; that was in the tall building across the street. Three bright and expansive floors of that red stone faced building belonged to JM Inc. Assumingly, the home base for all the businesses he has his hands in. This building, however, is smaller amongst the tall skyscrapers of the Austin skyline. The entire building is coated in a shiny black chrome, from the steel framing to the windows, except for the golden JMK logo on the front door. You take a calming breath before heading up the steps, the blacked out glass door slides open automatically.

Your dark high heeled boots click on the black and honey flecked marble, the floor reminding you of Joel’s eyes. You wish the marble would suck you into it so you could live in that feeling you get when Joel looks at you. Where it might be seen as cold and intimidating to others, to you it feels warm and inviting, almost familiar, and that little box of feelings in the back of your mind stirs a little bit. 

He told you to dress comfortably tonight, and you felt most at ease in a deep green sweater dress and knee high heeled boots. The dress just barely skims your thighs, making your legs look long and toned. You could use a tan, but it’s only March, everyone in Texas could use a tan at this point. You left your hair down in loose curls and kept your makeup minimal, as always. 

There are three people in the small foyer. Two stunning women stand behind the hostesses desk in matching black dresses and collars. To the right of them stands a man who looks like he could kill you with his pinkie. He’s also dressed in all black, and stands in front of a large door. Everything here seems like it’s meant to intimidate but all you can see and feel is the safety that comes with knowing Joel Miller. 

One of the women looks up at you, smiling comfortingly and asks for your name. Before you can respond, Joel's honey lined voice answers her. The sound of your name on his tongue feels like taking a breath of fresh winter air. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your own breath leaping in your throat as you spin slowly to meet his gaze. There’s no other way to around it, Joel Miller is fucking exquisite. His slightly outgrown curls are pushed back, silver reflecting off his temples and throughout his beard. Tonight he’s wearing a deep midnight blue Tom Ford suit with one jacket button done up, underneath he’s wearing a crisp white t-shirt, paired with brown dress shoes and what you assume will be a matching belt. One of his hands is tucked in the pocket of pants that literally look like they weren’t made for him, the other hangs loose at his side and you catch that gold ring again.  

He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he speaks to everyone in the lobby, “You’re all to remember her name. She is my guest, my only guest, and as far as you’re all concerned she’s the most important person in this club. Understand?”

The little box of feelings lifts its lid a little. No, you say to the box, banishing it back to its dark corner.

A jumbled mess of ‘yes’ and ‘sorry’ fills the lobby but the only thing that’s clear to you is Joel as he wanders over, placing his hand on the small of your back, and leading you towards the large black door that the lethal looking man is guarding. As he pulls you into his side his voice quiets, his words a low growl meant only for you. “Hi, sweetheart.” When he sponges a soft kiss to your temple you press your lips together to stop the giggle that’s trying to burst out of you. Joel Miller makes you giddy in a way that you haven’t felt since you were much younger and saw a One Direction music video for the first time. 

This afternoon, you had your easily predicted moment of panic. As with every decision you’ve ever made, you started to think that this wasn’t the right one. Maybe Tommy was the safer choice. Maybe you’ve bit off more than you can chew, or girlbossed too close to the proverbial sun. Or in kink terms, flirted too closely with the St Andews Cross. But now, being here tucked tightly against Joel's side as he guides you into your first experience with the world of kink you couldn’t feel any more sure of your decision. 

You hold your breath as the shiny black marble door opens, this feels like one of those big climatic moments you see in the movies, like you know the main character's life is about to change, and a nervous excitement buzzes through your veins. As the club comes into view it’s nothing like you thought. For starters, there aren’t cages or naked people around, and at first glance it looks just like a lounge in a high end hotel or restaurant. JMKink is beautiful, breathtaking.

 Light pine flooring is set in a herringbone pattern across the entire club. Directly in front of you are a few tall tables and then, situated in the middle of the space, is a large black marble bar. The bartender is surrounded by a halo of soft chiffon light that casts down from a brushed gold chandelier. The tables and bar top have tealight candles on them, making the entire thing feel sensual and soft. It’s just dimly lit enough that you can’t see beyond the bar from here. Joel guides you gently to the right. The booths that line the wall are only illuminated by the flickering candle on the table. Three of the booths are roped off, guarded by a tank of a man in a black suit. As Joel leads you towards them, you notice each of those tables have a gold plated reserved sign along with a name; Joel, Tommy and Tess. 

Confusion swirls in your brain at the romantic feeling the club gives off. Part of you expected to walk into a sex dungeon or that red room that Christian took Anastasia to, but you definitely weren’t expecting this. If this place was just a bit brighter you could imagine studying here on weekends. 

This isn’t a sex club, there’s no way.

As you slide into the furthest booth you’re able to see a small stage on the back wall and empty dance floor looking area on the other side of the bar. You can feel Joel’s warm gaze on you as you look around with wide eyes. Right when you’re almost convinced that you interpreted the information you found on Reddit wrong, your eyes land on the far left side of the room.

No, now that you see if from this angle, you are indeed in a kink club; a well stocked kink club based on the entire sex shop in the corner. You feel your cheeks flush and you dart your eyes towards Joel, pushing at your cuticle under the table, smiling shyly at him.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” His voice is syrupy and warm as two drinks land on the table. Whiskey neat for him and some sort of pink martini for you.

“Nothing..I just, it’s not what I expected,” you swallow the sand that’s found its way into your throat at seeing all those sex toys just out on display in the corner and flick your eyes towards your drink.

“That's a cosmopolitan. I can get you something else if you want, sweetheart. The female staff here seems to love them.”

“No, I should have said thank you. I’m sorry.” His hand comes to meet yours as it’s picking furiously at the non-existent skin of your nail bed. He wraps his hand tightly around yours, and brings them to rest on the top of the table together.

“Take a breath, sweet girl. You’re ok.” His words wrap around you tightly, calming you. You’re ok. Your heart rate slows and you relax into the plush velvet lined booth a little bit, smiling sheepishly up at Joel. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Your free hand grabs the martini glass and you bring it to your nose, it smells like cranberry and lime.

As you take a small sip Joel says, “You really don’t have to drink it, baby girl. I can get you whatever.”

The vodka burns away any sand that remains in your throat. It’s tart, and dangerously delicious. You can see yourself getting very fucked up these with your girlfriends one day soon. “No, I like it. Thank you.”

After putting the glass safely on the table, Joel lets go of your hand, wraps his arm around your waist and slides you across the seat, pressing you to his side. “Is this ok?”

JOEL

His cock twitches at the little hum you make in agreement. You lift your leg closest to him and rest it over his under the table. He squeezes your side gently, sinking into the comfort of you and grabs his whiskey. “So if this isn’t what you thought, what were you expecting?”

He loves the way you blush a little before answering him. “People just, you know, it’s a sex club, so just having sex here.”

He lowers his head to yours and whispers just for you, “There are people having sex here, sweet girl.”

He laughs to himself as your eyes narrow and you look around at the other people in the bar. “Not out here, just because you’re in a sex club doesn’t mean you have to consent to seeing or hearing people fuck. Or to be having sex yourself, really.” He loves the way you look at him with surprise at his boldness. He cocks his head towards a guarded door between the stage and booths along the wall, “But behind that door - well, people are indulging as we speak.”

He watches the small shiver of your spine, pulling back to take a sip of his whiskey, allowing you time to look around and become comfortable in your surroundings. He watches your perfect lips part, finding himself jealous of the rim of the glass as you take another sip. Great, first spoons and now glasses. As he watches your neck work to liquid down he says, “So did you leave that little pussy alone like I asked?”

Your head whips to face him, he can’t quite place your facial expression. It’s a twisted  mix of fear, shyness and embarrassment, like you’re worried that someone may have heard him say pussy; but if you only knew the kinds of things happening in this club right now.

“What?” you ask shakily.

“Did you come? Or did you listen?”

“Umm…I,” he can tell that you’re flustered, and he finds you nearly irresistible like this.

“Are you nervous, sweet girl?”

He’s not sure if you realize it, but when you’re tense and he calls you by that nickname you relax a little. Your shoulders lower, the little crease in between your eyebrows softens. “No,” you say, and he’s not convinced.

Joel deepens his voice, a voice he only intends to use when you’re at the club together. Or when she’s in my bedroom. He pushes any thoughts of you outside of the confines of this space away, “Lesson number one, don’t lie to your Dom. We have to be able to trust each other.”

You look up at him through your lashes and it damn near kills him. You’re so beautiful, absolutely glowing against all the black in the room. The soft golden light bounces off of every little perfect piece of you; from the deep cupid's bow above your top lip, to the caramel highlights in your hair. He can tell by the long breath you suck in that you’re about to do that adorable thing where you ramble. “I’m nervous, but it’s an excited kind of nervous. And no, I didn’t…that thing.” 

He can’t fight the smile at your shyness, “Lesson number two, If you can’t say it then you shouldn’t be here. What thing, sweet girl?”

You close your eyes and say, “Come,” and then open your eyes to look at him again. 

So shy. So cute. I’m fucked, so very fucked, he thinks. He takes another pull of his whiskey if only to keep his hands and lips busy and to himself. He usually enjoys the burn but with you beside him it tastes sweeter.

As you bring your martini glass to your lips he commands, “One more time, this time look at me when you say it.”

Over your glass, sparkling eyes locked on him you mumble, “I didn’t come, Joel.”

“That reminds me. Lesson number three, as soon as we cross the threshold into my private room, you will refer to me as Mister Miller only. Out here, and anywhere else, I can be Joel, but in there,” he tilts his head towards a door on the other side of the stage, this one isn’t guarded, instead there’s a security pad that you need to have a microchip to unlock, “In there, I’m Mister Miller. Understand?”

He watches your throat again as you swallow, the palm of his hand tingles at the thought of wrapping his hand around it again. One of your eyebrows raises just a touch and he knows that cheeky little line of your lips. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

Your voice is husky as you say it and this time it’s him who has to fight the goosebumps rising on his skin and the icy shiver trailing down his spine. So perfect. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You don’t make eye contact with him when you say it, like you fear he might say no and he has a feeling that whoever made you feel that you needed to make plans A through Z also told you are a burden for asking questions. Joel isn’t a violent man, but would happily ring whoever’s neck did this to you.

“Of course, sweet girl.”

You turn to face him, taking a sip of your martini before you say, “Why did you send me into your basement that day?”

Joel clears his throat, weighing how transparent he wants to be in his answer, but there’s no hiding it after what he said to you in his office last week. “I’m not always going to be nice to you here, sweet girl. I’m going to push you, I might even hurt you. Yes, it’s all consensual, but I didn’t want you thinkin’ I’m some sort of monster.”

He watches as you take a long pull of the pink liquid from your glass. You set it back on the table, the earlier tremble of your hand gone as you reply, “Thank you for being honest with me. I don’t think I could ever see you as a monster, Mister Miller. I need this.”

The devious smile you give him has his cock come to life. He doesn’t fuck his subs, but he would take you right here in this booth if he could. “Would you like a tour of the club?”

Your eyes light up, “Can I bring my drink?”

“Anywhere out here, yes. But not behind those two doors.” He takes the last drink from his whiskey and then watches as you take two big gulps to finish your Cosmopolitan. Your nose crinkles at what he assumes is the burn of the vodka.

“So fuckin’ cute,” Joel says quietly, and hopefully just to himself, as he slides out of the booth.

No, you say to the little box of feelings when you overhear his whispered words, don’t start with me right now.

You follow him as he heads towards the store in the corner. Even with the condoms, dildos, plugs, gags, whips, lube and all sorts of other things on display it’s somehow still classy and beautiful. Lots of these things you’ve never seen before, or had any desire to play with, but you’re pretty sure you’d try almost anything with Joel. 

He nods at the man working the store counter and then walks you around the main area, his voice thick with passion as he speaks. “Usually on Friday and Saturday nights there's more of a nightclub feel, couples who like to swap partners can mingle with the room. This is a safe space, monogamous couples aren’t offended by the attention and everyone stays very respectful of others wishes and limits. There’s a drink limit of course, keeping things safe and consensual is my utmost priority.”  

You walk slowly, crossing the middle of the currently unoccupied dance floor, “That stage is often used for workshops or shows. This is a place to learn just as much as it’s a place to enjoy sex and kink. We have a new workshop coming up next week actually.”

The two of you stop beside the guarded door - the door Joel said people were indulging behind. You can’t help but be curious about what's happening back there, but you’re also desperately horny and unsure how you might react to whatever is unfolding in the dark. The man standing in front of the door is also dressed in a black suit, this seems to be the uniform of those who work at JM Kink, he says a cordial, “Good Evening, Joel.” Then nods at you and adds, “Miss.”

You jump as Joel’s hand connects with yours, his strong fingers linking with your slender ones. He spins you to face him. His freehand cups your chin, the band of his ring cold against your pink flushed skin. He tilts your face up to meet his, seriousness etched across his face. “My sweet girl, behind that door can be a bit intense at first. You’re an adult, but you shouldn’t have to see anything you don’t want to see. So you’re in charge in there. If you want to leave, we leave. If you want to cover your eyes, do it and I’ll lead you away. On the contrary, if you see something you like and want to get closer, then get closer. If you have questions, just ask. Ok?”

You nod, and Joel leads you through what you hope is the second life changing door of the night. The air feels different on this side of the threshold, something about it makes you feel like you’ve been plugged into a low voltage socket, you’re buzzing in an exciting and dangerous way. It’s dark enough in here that you can’t see your black boots as they click quietly against the hardwood. Joel's strong hand comes around your waist, tucking you into the side of his body protectively. After taking a deep breath, the familiar ash and leather scent of Joel intoxicating and calming your senses, you look up.

You and Joel stand intertwined at one end of a long rectangular room. Across from where you stand and down to your left and right the wall is lined with large windows. On the side of the hallway where you stand are plush chairs and couches, some of which are occupied by singles or couples as they watch what’s happening beyond the windows. 

You wonder if it gets easier, standing in a dark hall where you can watch people fucking. Joel is so calm, like a still glassy sea, meanwhile you are fighting against the tides. He stands almost statuesque, his thumb rubbing calming circles on your hip, while keeping you tucked safely into him. He has made it clear that you’re in charge here, so staying in the shadows as much as possible, you wander towards the first window. As if he’s another limb on your body, Joel follows you effortlessly. 

Your heart thumps in your chest as you approach the first window. The room has a large bed that remains untouched. A man is tied to a chair at the end of the bed with black silk ties, and you stifle a gasp at the painful looking device he has clamped around his hard cock. You can hear his whines through the ball gag, and the moans of pleasure from the woman spread eagle on the floor in front of him as she fucks herself with a large dildo.

Joel’s soft stubble brushes against your ear as he whispers, “We won’t be doing that.”

“Looks fun for me,” you giggle and he lightly pinches your hip.

The next window has the blinds drawn, little slits of light illuminating the edges is the only sign that someone is in the room. “You can choose to let people watch or not watch, as well as how much you want those in the voyeur area to hear when you rent the rooms,” Joel explains softly as you approach the next open window.

The bed in this room is occupied by three people. A curvy woman is lying down on her back, a copper skinned man with a shaved head has his face buried in her pussy while a fully tattoed beefcake of man fucks his ass. The look of pure pleasure on all their faces has your clit twitching and aching. And when Joel lowers himself to your ear the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“We also won’t be doing that,” Joel’s voice is so light and carefree. For a second you forget that any minute now he’s going to use that deep baritone voice to boss you around while you’re completely naked.

“Again, it also looks fun for me,” you joke, and a small smile crosses your lips as you feel Joel’s body shake with silent laughter beside yours. There’s about ten windows in this room from what you can see, most are closed or dark, probably since it’s a weekday. You lead the two of you down the room to the next open window. “Can they see us?”

“Not unless you get close to the glass,” he instructs. You stop in your tracks at the next window. Despite your teasing with Joel the last two were not your thing, but this window you could easily watch for a while. A man and a woman lay on the large red silk sheeted bed while hundreds of battery operated candles flicker around them. He’s on top of her, one of her legs slung over his shoulder, the other around his waist. As you step closer you can see a sparkly, thin layer of sweat coating both their bodies as they slowly grind together, kissing passionately. You take another step closer, if they want to be seen then it shouldn’t matter if they see you. Once you’re close enough you can hear the gentle moans she’s making as he thrusts slowly in and out of her. 

“Well,” you say softly, leaning into Joel’s side and looking up into his warm chocolate eyes, “That doesn’t look so bad.”

He cranes his neck and places a lingering kiss on your forehead and as your eyelids flutter closed you can no longer deny just how turned on you are. He pulls back to look at you, smiling slightly before saying, “When I first got here he had her hogtied and was paddling her.”

“Like I said,” you say while giggling softly, “That doesn’t look so bad.” 

The two of you watch them for a while as they fuck languidly. This should feel wrong, watching something so personal, but the beauty of them together like this is comforting and almost inviting. Her cries grow louder and as she starts to shake he pauses his hips, fully seated inside of her while whispering and smiling down at her, pushing her sweat soaked hair off her forehead. The love behind the glass is so palpable that you feel yourself getting choked up a little. 

Just as you’re about to ask Joel to take you to his room, you notice another window with about five people lined up along the glass. Curiosity gets the better of you and you lead Joel the few steps to see what’s going on. No longer feeling nervous or shy, you step right up to the glass. This time, Joel moves his body to be behind yours, pulling your back against his strong body. One of his arms wraps around your middle, the other sweeps your hair to one side and then rests gently on your shoulder. 

The set up of this room is similar to the others you’ve seen: a large bed to the right, a chair to the left, and a chest of drawers to the back. There’s a woman strapped face up on the bed, wrists and ankles bound to the four posts of the frame. Her perky breasts rise and fall rapidly with her breathing. At the back of the room, a broad tanned man faces away from you, looking through a drawer for something. As your eyes travel up his back from his hard, round ass cheeks he spins to face the window. You step back into Joel as Tommy Miller’s gaze flicks to the people along the window and then to the sub he’s chosen for the night. 

In your sane mind you tell yourself that you should look away. It's one thing to watch strangers but watching someone you sort of know feels like an invasion of their privacy. Plus, there’s no way Joel wants to see his brother like this. As if he can read your mind, Joel's lips brush against your neck, “I’m right here, sweet girl. Tommy likes an audience, he’s an exhibitionist, and lots of members come just to watch him.” 

You glance up at Joel and he smiles softly. Your voice is just above a whisper, “Can we watch for a bit?” 

“You’re in charge, sweetheart.” He patiently reminds you as you nod and look back towards the room.

The horny demon that seems to have taken over your body since catching Joel in his office has you dying to see more: more sex, more kink, more Tommy. Without consciously controlling it, your eyes travel down his tanned chest, to the hair around his belly button and then down to his fully erect cock. You can’t help but appreciate the beauty of his body, he looks like he’s carved out of stone, and that includes his cock. He’s decently long, but thick, a prominent vein running along one side of it. It’s slightly upturned and the head is smooth and glistening with precome. He looks so powerful and the small fire that’s been building in your stomach grows.  

You bite at your bottom lip nervously, crossing your arms to rest on top of the one Joel has wrapped around you. Tommy walks over to the bed; grasped in one of his large hands is a black vibrator, his other holds a small glass jar housing a lit candle. He climbs onto the bed, then drizzles hot wax along the woman's thighs. Her back arches off the bed and through the speakers along the glass you hear her pained moans. Tommy watches her intently, his lips moving but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Once she’s settled back on the bed, Tommy places the vibrator on her clit.

She writhes and pulls at the velvety cuffs holding her to the bed. “Sir, oh god, I’m - I’m gonna - Sir, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

When she calls him sir you see the dark flash of obsidian across his eyes, the same look when you called him that at the poker game. Through your research, you know that doms have preferred names and your cheeks flush a little at the thought of accidentally using his with him. 

Tommy pulls the vibrator away right before she falls over the edge and drizzles wax on her stomach. She cries out with more desperation this time, and then again, once she’s calm Tommy places the vibrator between her thighs. It’s suddenly hard to breathe and when you step back into Joel you feel his cock is hard against your back and a fresh wave of arousal coats the lace of your panties. 

Tommy takes the vibrator away as she starts shaking and moaning, then hot wax splashes down her sternum. You feel antsy, like little pins and needles are pricking along your entire body. You squeeze your thighs together, Joel's warm breath against your neck causes you to shudder. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he hums.

“N-nothing.”

“You sure? You’re squirmin’.” His hand runs slowly down your arm, your hands moving on their own so he can wrap you in his muscle lined arms. A light kiss lands just below your ear and you bite back a moan.  

The combination of not being allowed to have an orgasm, the feeling of Joel’s warm body pressed against you, and the erotic scenes you’ve witnessed tonight is almost too much. It’s also not lost on you that that could have been you in there with Tommy right now. Your clit is throbbing between your legs, and you aren’t sure if you have ever been this turned on. 

Joel smiles into your skin as you watch Tommy tease his sub with the vibrator again, “Do you like what you’re seein’?”

You nod, trying to calm your breathing. It hitches as he adds, “Would you like to try that one day?”

Wax hits one of her nipples, the beads hardening along the peak of her perky, round breast. You adjust your stance to cross your legs together, squeezing hard to ease the almost painful ache at the apex of your thighs. Her and Tommy speak softly to one another, he smiles down at her, puts the candle down and then adjusts himself between her legs, spreading the lips of her puffy pussy with two fingers and putting the vibrator right where you know it would ruin you. 

“Would you?” Joel repeats.

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You say, your voice shaky, almost like it’s impossible to form words as you look up at him. He’s so beautiful in the shadowy light, his tanned skin almost seems to glow against the darkness.  

His eyes dance around your face, his voice comes out soft and sensual, quiet enough for just you to hear, “Do you want to go play now, sweet girl?”

You bite your cheek to try to fight the smile, but as Joel’s eyes flick to your lips it’s no use. A shy smile tugs at the corners of your soft pink lips. “Are you going to let me come?”

He looks at you the same way he did when you drank the water and ate that toast. Pride. He’s proud of you for asking for what you want, and you can almost feel your insecurity and fear around asking for things starting to shrink. 

The softness in his voice morphs into a growl, “If you’re a good girl.”

You spin your body towards him, determination lacing your face. “I can be your good girl, Mister Miller.”

Joel’s strong fingers link with yours and a quiet giggle passes your lips as he hauls you towards a door in the shadows close to where you two entered. Truthfully, if it wasn't for the little red light on the security pad, you wouldn’t have even known there was a door there. He waves his ring past the device and after a quiet beep sounds the light flashes green and the door clicks open. He pulls you through and as soon as Joel hears the final click of the door closing he hauls you over his shoulder. Your squeal at your world literally turning upside down with his brute strength melts into an aroused moan as his strong hands grasp the back of your bare thighs.

When Joel stops walking, you tear your eyes away from his perfectly sculpted ass, like these pants must be stuffed, there’s no way this man has a better ass than me. You glance up to see two other doors; assumingly belonging to Tommy and Tess. A familiar beep sounds in the quiet hall and your throat goes dry as he steps into his room. He takes a few long strides before sliding you down his muscle lined chest and placing you at the foot of the bed. He stays close, your breasts just barely grazing his warm body. Your gazes are locked, and even though you’ve grown comfortable with his intense need for eye contact your breathing still goes shaky and uneven. 

Oh fuck, this is it. 

His hand cradles your cheek, “You read and signed off on everything in the app, but I want to reiterate a few things, baby girl.”

You swallow hard, his finger now tracing down your throat and you swear you can feel every whorl of his fingertips as they trail along your soft skin. 

“From now on, you belong to me and I belong to you. No one else. You are not allowed to come unless I say.” 

His hand continues its road trip of your body, settling to wrap around the nape of your neck. “Y-Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“I have a no sex rule. I’ll give you orgasms, I’ll fuck you with my fingers and toys, even my tongue, but not my cock. I need you to understand that my rule is nothing against you, sweetheart. Are you ok with that?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you coo. The nervous excitement from early has returned, every bit of skin that he’s touching is almost humming, butterflies with sharp wings scrape at your stomach. You bring your hands to the lapels of his expensive blue suit, fisting the soft fabric.  

“Fuuck,” he moans, “That sounds so pretty coming out of your mouth, sweet girl.” 

You smile up at him. He squeezes the back of your neck gently, his other hand cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The rough pad of his thumb caresses your chin. “Nothin’ tonight that will require a safeword-”

“Stegosaurus,” you say eagerly, cutting him off. It’s silly really, but that little dinosaur on top of his coffee machine is what first intrigued you about the anonymous millionaire whose home had been assigned to you to clean. It also has some sort of meaning to him, so it seemed only natural for that to be your safeword. 

He smiles, laughing gently, “Not tonight, baby. If you want to stop tonight, just say so and I’ll stop. Ok?” 

Your pussy flutters at the unexpected moments to come, but a gnawing anxiety starts to claw at your chest. You’re not sure what causes the shift, but suddenly you go from excited nervous to just plain nervous. Am I ready to give up control? What if he sees me naked and doesn’t like it. He said it was only me, what if he regrets that decision? 

Your chest tightens, the knife-winged butterflies multiplying and traveling up your throat. Joel must sense a shift in you, he steps closer to you and softens his eyes as they dance around your face, a silent sign that he’s patiently waiting for you. If you said you wanted to go home you know he would kiss you softly and call your new friend Cap, but you don’t want that. You want this, you want whatever is about to happen; you just need to let go.

Vulnerability is thick in your voice as you break one of his rules and murmur, “J-Joel?” 

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice waivers, making you feel a little bit better. 

“I’m nervous.” 

He lowers his head towards yours, running the tip of his hooked nose down the slender bridge of yours. You close your eyes and take him all in. He’s warm and hard, yet somehow so soft. His familiar ash and leather scent is mixed with the expensive whiskey he drank earlier. 

“So am I, sweet girl,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you softly. You melt into him, his hands moving to cup your face. His soft lips sponge against yours and everything quiets. You’re not sure how he does it, but kissing him feels like dunking your head under water, everything silences, all the nervousness dissipates. It’s just the two of you, floating in tandem in an endless void. 

He’s nervous too? Because of me? I make this strong, successful, brooding man nervous? Your inner voice of anxiety starts to settle. I’m safe here.

The comfort of your thoughts is enough to have you pulling yourself into Joel more. You increase the intensity of your kiss, turning your head and parting your lips slightly. He follows suit, running his soft tongue along yours. The air in the room has morphed, it’s saturated with passion and arousal. With just one kiss he’s managed to erase all your fears and worries, your mind is silent and ready for whatever instructions he’s going to give you. When he pulls away your both panting for breath.

He turns his back to you, sliding his dark blue suit jacket down, the white t-shirt underneath clinging with perfection to the muscle and sinew that pack on top of each other along his back. He drapes his jacket over a padded bench about five feet away from you; you know from your extensive research that that’s a spanking bench. He spins to face you, slipping his gold and black ring off his hand, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he drops it in a dish on top of a low chest of drawers on his left. You can’t describe it, but the sound of the gold clashing with the ceramic dish puts you in a trance. Like a ritualistic symbol that you are his now.

His hands slip into his pockets, his voice taking on its deep dominant tone, “We are going to start now. You can stay fully clothed or you can get as undressed as you feel comfortable being. I’m serious here, sweet girl. Leave on as little or as much as you want. When you’re done, lay face up on the bed.”

Without thinking your hands fly back to the zipper on your boots, you unzip them and toe them off. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the hem of your sweater dress and pull it up and over your body. As your vision is temporarily blocked by the knitted fabric you can feel his eyes on your bare skin. You’re left in just a matching nude bra and panty set. He’s already seen your tits so you don’t hesitate to unclasp your bra and let it fall away from your body. 

Joel swallows hard and licks his lips. “Beautiful,” he mumbles appreciatively and it coats your skin in warmth. 

You hesitate for a moment with your thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties. You know they’re soaked through, and you’re sure he can see that from where he’s standing. He’s so fucking good at reading you, so you’re not surprised when he says, “Only take off what you feel comfortable with, my sweet girl.” 

“I do…I am…I w-want to…I just,” you fiddle with the band a bit. 

“You can say it.” He nods encouragingly.

“I like having them taken off me. I - I want to see your face up close when you…when you see it for the first time.” 

Joel smirks, popping his hip out to lean on the spanking bench. “See what the first time?” 

“Don’t make me say it, Mister Miller.” 

He clicks his tongue at you, “Mmm, but I love hearing that pretty little mouth say dirty words.” You stay silent, chewing your cheek as he continues. “Come on…say it. Say, I want to see your face up close when you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.”

You feel your cheeks flush. Earlier tonight he asked you to look at him when you say it, so you roll your shoulders back and hold your head high. As confidently as possible you say, “I want to see your face up close when..” you take a shaky inhale, “When you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.” 

Before the last syllable has left your lips he’s across the room, lifting you off the ground by the back of your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around him and gasp at the sudden pressure right where you’re aching for him. 

“I have memorized every answer from your preferences,” he growls into your collar bone, walking you around the bed. “I have strategically planned what I’m going to teach you and then you say stuff like that and fuck. I have to fight every sick and twisted thought I have, sweet girl.” He climbs onto the bed, laying you down just how he wants you, “You have no idea what you do to me. How out of control you make me feel.” 

Joel shuffles his body down, kissing down your sternum before cupping your tits. Pushing them together and sucking one of your nipples into his hot mouth. This is exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about since that moment in his office. His tongue is warm and soft as it flicks across your hardening nipple. He lightly rolls the other one between his fingers.  

“Please - oh god - please Mister Miller.” You moan needily. You try to arch into him, but his large body holds you down. 

He grazes his teeth along your nipple then looks up at you, “I’m gonna take care of you. Just relax.” 

You can’t take your eyes off him as he dives back in. Sucking and biting at your other nipple. You plant your feet on the mattress, hands tangling into his hair, as you try to grind your aching clit into his warm, hard stomach. 

“Stay still sweetheart,” He says between suckles. 

“I c-can’t. Please.”

He pinches both nipples hard, harder than you’re used to, and you whimper, freezing your hips. His voice is as deep as the obsidian in his gaze, “Stay still. I’m going to make you come. I promise. You need to trust me, relax.” 

The pressure on your nipples eases and you pout before letting yourself melt back into the mattress. He smirks, a dimple carving itself in the patchy scruff of his cheek. “That’s my girl. You like your nipples being played with?” 

The pad of his thumb ghosts over the tops of them, you shiver and moan, “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Then you’re going to enjoy what I have planned tonight.” He kisses your forehead and then climbs off the bed. You rise on your elbows, watching him as he pads across the room to a chest of drawers. He toes off his brown dress shoes and removes his belt before digging through a drawer. The actions were so simple, yet the domesticity of them has you fighting with your little box of feelings again.

No, you tell it silently as it inches out of the darkness. I am his sub and nothing more. The box seems to have grown a very annoying and persistent personality and it almost says, ‘but he’s nervous too’ back at you. 

He turns back to face you, snapping you out of your fight with the imaginary box in your brain. The same vibrator Tommy had is clasped in one hand, his other is palm up, cupping something that he’s shaking much like a gambler does with dice. 

“My sweet girl, you put a five for nipple clamps. Remind me, have you ever used them before?”

“No, Mister Miller.” 

He wanders lazily back over to the bed, and if he was anyone else you’d tell him to hurry up, but you never want to rush a single moment with Joel Miller. On top of that, you need to let him take control; he said he was going to make you come if you just relax and trust him, so that’s exactly what you’re going to do. He places the vibrator on the small table beside the bed and then sits beside you, holding out his free hand to help you sit up. 

He holds the clamps out to you and explains softly, “These are beginner clamps. See this little dial? I can control how tight they are.”

You watch his thick fingers along the dainty metal of the clamps, he’s so soft yet could have you crying with the snap of his fingers if he wanted. A fresh wave of arousal floods between your thighs completely ruining the panties he still hasn’t taken off your body. You nod and whisper, “Ok.”

“You control what happens here tonight. If you tell me that it hurts too much or to stop, I will.”

It’s time to show Joel just how good of a girl you can be, you look at him through your eyelash and sweetly coo, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

A deep growl rumbles in his chest, “Fuck. Lay down..now.” 

You lay back, hair fanning around you. Joel stays seated on the edge of the bed beside you and lightly places the first clamp on your right nipple. It’s a light pinching pressure and it feels so good that your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the bed. He puts the next clamp on and you whimper. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, his strong hands gripping your hips, pushing you into the mattress and grounding you in the warm pleasure that floods your stiff nipples.  

“S-so good Mister Miller,” you groan. You’re almost convinced this is another dream, he’s doing almost exactly what you have imagined countless times. You open your eyes to watch him, determined to visually take in every single thing he gives you. 

“Good, baby. I want you to feel good. I’m gonna tighten them now, jus’ a little.” He twists the little knob. You start breathing heavily, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You bring your hands to his strong, warm forearms as you suck in air.

“Too much?”

Your chest heaves at the delicious feeling flooding your tits. “No, no. More. P-Please, more. More.”

“Good girl,” he hums deeply, the words settling right behind your clit as he tightens the tiny clamps more. The warmth around your nipples spreads to your arms and down your sides. When you cry out he asks, “Pain or pleasure, sweet girl?”

At this point you aren’t sure, it definitely hurts, but it also feels good, and his deep brown eyes are looking at you the same way they always do, full of concern and care, almost like he’s assessing you. 

“Both. Both, oh fuck. More, Mister Miller.” He kisses the left one gently and you arch into him, “More, more, please.”

“That’s as tight as they go, are you sure you want more?”

You keep your eyes on him, nodding fervently, “Yes. Please, yes.”

He pops them off and you gasp out in pain, heat rushes to both your nipples and it burns in white hot passion. Joel blows cool air along both of them and you can’t seem to stop your mumbling begging, “More. I need more. Please!”

“I know, baby. I got you.” He opens the drawer on the bedside table and takes out two gold plated clamps. You look down, your nipples already look sore, tinged slightly purple. “I’m so fucking proud of you already. Askin’ so nicely like the good girl I know you are. Goddamn, look at these stiff, perky, perfect little nipples. I love seeing you like this, seeing them like this. Are you wet for me? Are those flimsy lace panties soaked through?”

He places one of the new clamps and you cry out a ‘yes’. 

“Ya? Just dripping and desperate for me?” He puts the other clamp on as you chant a chorus of yes’s and oh god’s. 

Joel

Joel knew that tonight would either make or break him. As his name spills sweetly from your perfect pouty lips he feels it, the same tug behind his belly button that he felt with Tiffany, that his grandpa said was how he’d know when he found something special; something to hold onto. 

“Please, Mister Miller,” you murmur. He doesn’t know what it is you’re asking for, and he’s sure you don’t know either. What is it about you saying those three little words that gets him so rattled? Countless subs have called him that in the past and it never made his cock swell this painfully behind his zipper.

He taps at your nipples lightly and watches your body shudder and arch off the bed. You aren’t even fully naked and he’s fighting the urge to come right there in his pants. He loves the way your body reacts, he can already tell you’re going to look stunning as you come. 

“That feel good?” He asks, his voice deep and husky. 

“Yes. Oh god, yes!” You haven’t taken your eyes off him and he loves how your eyelids have become hooded from the pleasure while your brows furrow with the pain.

“Does it hurt?” Your cheeks are flushed pink making the colour of your eyes pop.

“Yes,” just as he’s convincing himself to remove the clamps you moan, “Please don’t stop.” 

Joel grabs the vibrator from the bedside table before sliding his body down the bed. He starts kissing at your hip bone before wrapping his teeth around the slender band of your panties. Your eyes dart down to him, this is what you asked for; to his face the first time he sees your cunt. He pulls your panties with his teeth, smiling against your soft upper thigh when you instinctively lift your hips to help him. As he shimmies down the bed his eyes stay on your face.

He gets to the end of the bed, standing with your soaked through thong still between his teeth. He relaxes his jaw, dropping the panties in his hand and bringing them to his face. “God fuckin’ damn, sweet girl. You smell so fuckin’ sweet. Imma crave that smell when you aren’t around.” He tucks your panties into the pocket of his four thousand dollar, custom made Tom Ford suit. As far as he’s concerned, that drenched thong is the most expensive and important thing he now owns. 

He trails his eyes down your sternum, your legs are straight out in front of you, not parted, but he can see your puffy pink clit pushing through the soft looking outer lips. He feels himself switching into full dom mode. The room around him fades away, everything outside of you and this room doesn’t matter anymore.

“Show me,” he growls. “Spread those gorgeous legs and show me that perfect little cunt.”

He crawls up the bed, following the path you make as you bend both knees up. He feels like a starved dog who’s about to get a meal. Your feet stop, and as he hovers above you, gaze wholly fixated on your core, you relax your legs and your knees butterfly open. God he loves how eager you are, how good of a listener you can be. He licks his lips as your outer thighs finally meet the soft sheets, baring yourself for him completely. He stops breathing as your lips part, sticky with arousal. Your pussy is swollen and glistening, your needy clit puffy and pink. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as he lowers himself to the be, his face between your legs. Once he’s close enough he can see the tight little hole he’s vowed not to fuck. “Shit, sweetheart. This is goin’ to be so much harder than I thought.”

Your cries wash over him; he’s experienced enough to know that it’s from your nipples hardening under the clamps at his words. He smirks up at you, “How are you so wet already?”

“You, Mister Miller.”

“That right? Me playin’ with those nipples get you all turned on?”

“Uh-huh, and you said I couldn’t touch myself. I’ve been like this for days.” Your bottom lip pokes out and it absolutely ruins him, but he pushes down the overwhelming need to fix it and give you exactly what you need. No, you want to experience being a submissive, and that’s what he’s going to do. 

“Poor baby,” he mocks, tsking at you. He kisses right above your clit and you gasp. He’s close enough to know the heat of his breath is going to have you squirming and he can’t wait to watch how beautiful you’ll look doing it. “So wet. Smells so good. Fuck, She’s right in front of me but I already miss her. You look so soft and tight. Goddamn, you’re gonna have me breakin’ all my rules, sweet girl.”

“Please touch me. Please.”

“Mmmm, such a good girl for asking so nicely. I can’t say no when you beg like that, baby, makes me weak.” He kisses the crook of your inner thigh, he knows how much he’s teasing you right now, he watches you get wetter by the second, the beautiful folds of your pussy opening like a flower in the sun for him and flushing a deeper pink and the blood courses to your most sensitive parts.  

“I need you Mister Miller,” your voice waivers as you say his name, and you blink a little harder, he knows you’re fighting back the tears and it makes his cock throb harder, the teeth of his zipper practically digging into him.

After what feels like hours, he finally brings a thick finger to tease at your entrance. You buck into him, desperate for the friction.  

“Don’t make me tie you up. Stay still for me, please.” Even with the please at the end, it’s a command - deep and serious, and you don’t dare test him. Your nipples stiffen every time he speaks, and they ache under the clamps, it’s the perfect twinge of pain to heighten the bits of pleasure he’s giving you. 

You press your lips in a tight line, hands grounding you as they ball the sheets, focusing on keeping still. You want to shamelessly fuck yourself with his fingers; meanwhile, he’s being slow and calculated. Joel torturously draws slow little circles along the waiting hole with just the tip of his finger. He watches as your sticky white arousal coats his fingertip, then groans as he slowly pushes his middle finger all the way inside of you. You gasp at the welcome stretch and fight like hell to stay still.

“Look at you, fuck. So warm and inviting.” He slips his finger out slowly and lets out an exasperated sigh. Your heart falls into your stomach.

“Mister Miller, no. Please, it felt so good,” you practically cry at the loss at the feeling of him finally inside of you, finally giving you a taste of what you need the most.

“I know,” he shushes, “But that’s not what I have planned, not yet at least. My sweet girl, I need ya to be loud for me. I’ve been wanting this for so long. Need to hear you. Understand?”

The distinct sound of the vibrator you forgot he had comes to life and you squirm with anticipation. “Yes, Mister Miller. I will, just please, please make me feel good.” 

He reaches up, the black vibrator makes contact with your nipple and an intense pain shoots to your core before it blooms into pleasure. One of your hands leaves the sheets, fingernails digging into the forearms of the hand he has holding the vibrator and you sob out. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groans before moving the vibrator to the other nipple, circling it around this time instead of holding it flush. “Jus’ tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Don’t, please don’t. Oh god, yes.” You know you’re screaming, you doubt anyone can hear you, but at this point you don’t care if they can. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, you slam your eyes shut and arch your back. Joel’s strong chest is warm in between your thighs, he’s so broad that he’s keeping you spread open. You grind into the soft white cotton of his t-shirt.

“Look at me. Focus, sweet girl,” you peel your eyes open to meet his gaze. Warm coffee and hazel eyes stare down at you. “Stay still, please.”

“I can’t - aah!” He presses hard on your sore nipple and it brings you back into your own body. You manage to still your hips and release your grip, leaving behind little crescent shaped indents in his muscle lined forearm.

“Good girl,” he praises and then pulls the vibrator away from your breasts. His free hand comes to your mound, he swallows hard before breaking eye contact, pulling his hand back and looking at your puffy, and completely exposed bundle of nerves. A devious uptick of the right side of the mouth sets your blood on fire before he taps lightly at your clit once with the soft head of vibrator.

You cry out in pleasure. 

He taps again and you gasp out loudly.

He taps a third time and you’re almost certain that this is how you’re going to die. No man has ever teased you like this. You’re desperate to come, your body breaking out in sweat, but you never want Joel to stop. Moans and whines are pouring out of you without you even realizing it, he looks so fucking beautiful between your thighs, staring at your pussy like it’s the sunrise over the ocean, like he’s never seen anything as beautiful or fascinating and it makes your feel unstoppable. You make him look like that. Him. A man who could have anyone in the world, but here he is, looking at you like you’re his whole world.

“Let me hear you, show me how you can be a good girl,” he clicks the vibrator up and holds it tightly to your clit. The sensation is almost too much and your nipples ache under the little gold clamps.

Your body starts to shake involuntarily and your moans become longer and huskier, you’re going to come any second now. You squeeze your eyes shut and Joel pulls the vibrator away.

“No,” you gasp. “More. Please, I need more. Please.” The fear of him leaving you like this has the back of your eyes burning. Was there a time limit you weren’t aware of with the room? No, this is his private room. Right? Didn’t he say that he has a private room? And it shouldn’t matter if the club is open or closed, he’s the owner.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You blink your eyes open, trying to focus on his face, but you’re so turned on that the edges of him seem fuzzy. “That feel good? The vibrator teasing your desperately swollen clit?”

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

“Tell me what you want?”

Historically, situations like this have riddled you with insecurity. You’ve never been a talker in the bedroom and as a textbook people pleaser you never, like NEVER, ask for what you want. Yes, being here fully naked with a fully clothed Joel makes you feel safer and more understood than you have ever been. You know that if you ask for anything in this room and beyond, he’d do it. 

The words leave your mouth without you even thinking about it, without second guessing or carefully planning what it is you’re going to say. “Please make me come. I’ll be so loud for you. I’ll scream and moan until I have no voice. I’ve been such a good girl and I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, please make me come.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and his voice washes over you like honey, “Good fuckin’ girl. Eyes on me and hold on.”

It happens in an instant, the vibrator flicks to the highest setting as he adjusts his body to hold you firmly against the mattress with this forearm, your hands grab onto his shoulders as he presses the soft, thick head of the sex toy right onto your clit. 

You scream and squeeze at the strong muscles of his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your system, you tense under his touch. The build of your orgasm somehow too much and not enough all at once.

“Oh god. Oh god. Yes, I’m - Mist - fuuuck.”

“I know, I’m right here.” He says darkly.

“Gonna come,” you sputter between your cries of ecstasy. You can feel that familiar tightness building.

“Relax and let go for me. Come for me, sweet girl. Let me see this beautiful little cunt twitch.”

His words send you over the edge and your orgasm rocks through you violently. You convulse with so much force that Joel grunts as he holds you down. You’re nothing but what Joel is giving you, not a single thought or insecurity, not a single worry about studying or school, you’re just what Joel has made you and it feels fucking fantastic. His dark onyx eyes swallow you whole. 

The pleasure of your orgasm, mixed with the pain in your nipples is so much more than you’ve ever known, and Joel’s deep gravel filled voice praises you the whole time.

‘There’s my girl.’

‘Sooo good for me.’

‘Fuck, that’s it my sweet girl.’ 

‘Beautiful when you scream for me.’

It starts to become too much. Your throat is hoarse from screaming. As your nails start to dig deep into his shoulders Joel slows the vibrator down and holds it lightly to your twitching clit as the aftershocks course through you. He releases your body from his and kisses your hip bone before shutting the vibrator off completely. 

He’s stills between your thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders. Joel smiles up at you sweetly and you pull at his t shirt to encourage him to crawl on top of you. He doesn’t hesitate, bringing his stong body on top of yours, resting his forearms on each side of your head. 

“Do I have your consent to kiss you?” He whispers.

“Yes,” you coo. His mouth meets yours similar to how it did when you both confessed to being nervous. It’s soft and lingering as you take shaky, calming breaths through your nose. That annoying little box of feelings shivers in the corner of your mind and you mentally put a piece of packing tape over the lid. 

You end this kiss this time, pushing your head into the pillow. “I’m gonna grab some cooling spray and take those clamps off now, is that okay?”

You nod and hum in agreement. Your eyelids and muscles feel heavy and sated. Joel's warm body parts from yours and a chill runs up your spine. When he releases the first clamp you whimper, the burning ache goes away as soon as he sprays it with a cooling coconut scented mist. When he removes the second one, your pussy clenches around nothing, a small but powerful orgasm waves through you as the cool droplets of the aftercare spray land on your pebbled breast.

“Did you just come?” Joel questions proudly.

Your hands cover your face as you blush harder than you have in years, “Yeah.”

Joel’s warmth encompasses you again as he climbs back on top of you, he gently pulls your hands away by your wrists. “Fuck, baby. I think I’m addicted to you.” He kisses the tip of your nose, “Such a good girl.”

You shiver underneath him and he rolls the two of you so he can wrap the blanket around you, your head rests on his chest, your body half on him and half on the soft bed. He holds you tightly, his meaty hands rubbing any place they can over the fluffy down filled cocoon he’s got you in. 

A comfortable silence falls around the two of you, your breaths in sync with one another. Your eyelids flutter closed, and that little voice starts to come back, lacing you with insecurity. You don’t want to ask, but you have to. You clear your throat quietly and ask, “Are you seeing any other subs?”

“No,” he replies softly, his lips brushing the top of your head. “But I haven’t told all of them yet. The dom/sub relationship is a delicate one. I can’t exactly just message them on the app that it’s over.”

You settle deeper into him. “What else do you have planned for us?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’m going to show you everything you want to know.”

A fire burns in your stomach, “When?”

Joel lets out a small laugh, then tilts your chin up, pulling back a little so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re eager. I have to go out of town tomorrow, but we’ll make sure to find time when I’m back this weekend.”

Him leaving is a bit of a blessing in disguise for you. “I take the LSAT again on Friday, so I guess this gives me lots of study time.”

He cranes his neck to sponge his lips to yours, the scruff of his mustache tickles a little and you giggle into his kiss. “How long have you owned the club?”

“Almost five years,” he replies.

You let an impressed hum, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds are your mixed breathing and his calloused hand along the blanket. You remember all the times tonight that he called you ‘my sweet girl’ and you wonder if he’s feeling the same way you are, or if he’s so used to all of this that it’s just second nature to him. The packing tape on that fucking box starts to peels as if to say ‘he was nervous too and it’s only you’.

After a while Joel breaks the silence. “Becoming a lawyer is a pretty intense process. Your family must be really proud of you.”

“Umm, well, I actually don’t really know,” you say.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Joel says lightly and you know he means it. You know he would never push you to give him something you didn’t want to, he might push your sexual limits, but never your personal ones, and for whatever reason that almost makes it easier to tell him.

You roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your forearms on his chest. For a second you let your eyes look around the room. You were so focused on Joel earlier that you didn’t notice the rings and hooks along the black steel bed frame; or the paddles and ropes hanging on the wall next to a ladder and St Andrews Cross. In classic Joel fashion, everything is black and softly lit. Everything but the bed sheets which are plush and white. 

You take a deep breath, resting your chin on your hands, and start, “I don’t want pity for this, truthfully I’m grateful that this is my reality, but my parents had me when they were very young and they were both very selfish when I was growing up. Never abusive or anything, and not neglectful in a physical way, but emotionally I was left alone a lot. I realized early on that if I excelled in something they would show up, and for a long time that felt really fucking good. But as soon as I hit high school I realized they were showing up for themselves. They’d brag about me to other adults, but not actually congratulate me. They’d show up to honour roll ceremonies, but not with me or for me, it was so they could say I was their daughter. They didn’t help me get those grades, I did that on my own. And I’m still doing that on my own.”

Joel’s eyes soften, those two permanent lines between his eyebrows disappearing. “That explains so much, my sweet girl. I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

The tape on the box of feelings snaps as the lid flies off. Not now, you scold.

“I know, but honestly, I don’t really need anyone to take care of me. I’ve made it this far and I plan on making it the rest of the way the only way I know how.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” He asks.

“Doesn’t this?” you say gently, gesturing to the room.

“No,” he blinks at you a few times. “I was in my early twenties when my wife died. I needed to focus on raising Sarah, but I’m still an adult male with needs, so I found the world of BDSM and kink. It allowed me to get what I wanted, and what my partner wanted, without the attachment of a relationship.” His words are so real and honest and in just those few sentences you feel like you know Joel Miller more deeply than you know anyone else.

“My way doesn’t get lonely either,” you say with a smile, tucking your head back into his chest.

Joel

Your breathing is calm and heavy, it kills him that he’s going to have to wake you up. Usually his aftercare doesn’t involve opening up about his past like this. He’s not a monster, but he is very strict about keeping his kink life and his real life separate. Something about you though has him opening up about Tiffany and Sarah.

“Baby,” he whispers into the crown of your head, shaking you a little. “We can’t sleep here, I’m sorry.”

You blink up at him and his heart ceases at how beautiful you look all sleepy and supple. He finds himself unconsciously memorizing the little details of your face. Your lips are puffy from his kisses and you have a little mascara smudge under your eye. He thumbs the black make up away gently and says, “Let me help you get dressed and then Cap will take you home, ok?”

You nod lazily and he helps you gently roll off him. He stands and starts to gather your clothing. After a few minutes of looking around he huffs, “Where are your panties?”

A tiny giggle sounds from the cloud of white blankets, the sound shooting straight through his belly button, “Check your pockets.”

He laughs at himself, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out your lacy nude thong. He helps you sit up, “I’m keeping these, by the way.”

“Should I be expecting my panties to go missing every time?” You say jokingly as you take your bra from him and put it on. 

He nods and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, really good actually,” After you put your bra on he pulls your dress over your head and then kneels to help you with your boots. “I - umm - I was hoping that this would help turn my brain off for a while and it did. I feel, I don’t know. Recharged almost?”

This is exactly why he loves kink, it’s an escape from the world for him and his sub. He kisses your knee and moves to the other boot. “Good, that’s what is supposed to happen.”

He pulls you to your feet and allows you to steady yourself before pulling you in for a hug. “Thank you for tonight,” he whispers. He hopes you know that he needs this as much as you do, how much this helps him clear his mind and reground himself.

After closing the door to the town car and sending you home he goes back into the club, waving for a whiskey and joining Tommy at the bar top.

“She was pretty,” Tommy says, clinking his glass against Joel’s.

“Yep,” he swirls the amber liquid in the cup.

“New?” Tommy asks.

“Yep,” Joel repeats and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I think I’m fucked, Tommy.”

Tommy puts his glass down and turns to face Joel, gripping his shoulder. “Are you ending it with all your other subs for this girl?”

Joel takes a long sip from his crystal highball glass. Repeating the only word he seems to know lately, “Yep.”

Tommy lets out a breath, “Shit. Ya, you’re definitely fucked.”

“Tiff told me to find someone who scares me. This fucking scares me, man.” Joel finishes off his whiskey, and even though there’s a drink limit, the glass is refilled before it’s even hit the table. “This is - I just - I ain’t felt like this in a long time.”

Tommy smiles at Joel, “I’m happy for ya, man. And look, as long as you aren’t keepin’ her panties then it’s probably not as bad as you think.” 

Joel pulls that nude thong from his pocket and puts it on the bar top as he finishes off his second glass of whiskey and then waves the bartender off, silently signaling that he’s done. 

“Shit, so you are fucked then?” Tommy laughs. 

“We didn’t,” Joel says defensively, brows pulling together.  

“I didn’t ask if you fucked. I said you are fucked.” Tommy shakes his head at his older brother. 

Joel runs a hand down his face and through his scruff. “Look, you gonna be ok this week while I’m in Paris?”

“Ya, me and Tess got it.” He claps Joel’s back roughly as he stands. “Safe travels, hey?”

Joel nods and waves over his head at his brother. He hasn’t fucked you or let you suck his cock yet and he’s already feeling all turned around. But god, the way your body twitched in response to him, the way you melt into his arms every time he kisses you. How brave and confident you were after overcoming the shyness of asking for what you want. He can’t wait to teach you more, but he’s going to have to find a way to not let whatever feelings he might be having get in the way. 

[star-wrote]

Pretty Little Distraction

ao3 link

Characters: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader | Early Seasons

Summary: After boring yourself while researching lore, you decide Sam needs a well-deserved break.

Warnings: SMUT, reader wears a slip dress and thigh highs, cussing, oral (fem! receiving), dirty talk (but it’s nice bc Sammy), P in V, slight breeding k!nk, dean interrupts, allusions to aftercare, established relationship

A/N: okay so sam winchester LOVES thigh highs. if you have any sam winchester requests, ideas, or even thoughts feel free to send them in! i’m completely obsessed with him at the moment! <3

Word Count: 2079

18+

(lace divider from @strangergraphics )

Researching lore was fun at first; cracking open the books and the laptops, diving headfirst into the realm of mythology and folklore, and even the crappy vending machine snack breaks. However, after three hours of nonstop eyestrain, it became downright boring.

“Saaaam,” you whined as you shut your laptop harder than you should’ve, “I need to do something else, I’m going insane.”

Sam didn’t look up from his laptop, used to your usual begging for a break. He knows that you have a different stamina than he does when it comes to research. He’s been doing it his whole life, not to mention the hours of studying in college.

You let out an exaggerated sigh at his lack of attention, which earned you an annoyed glance from your boyfriend sitting across the rickety motel table. When his gaze returned to the apparently very important information on his laptop, you abruptly stood up, cracked your back, and flopped face down onto the bed you shared with Sam.

Remembering two hours ago, when Dean clocked out of research after only an hour, you thought about how unfair it was that he got to go out and have fun at the local bar while you and Sam were stuck doing more research in the motel room. You and Sam deserved to have fun too! Especially Sam, who has been more stressed on this case than usual due to the high amount of deaths. If you haven’t found a solution yet, you probably weren’t going to find one tonight.

You lifted your head from the cheap comforter as an idea popped into your head. Quickly, you grabbed your bag and headed for the bathroom without even a glance from Sam.

After five minutes of putting your outfit on, you looked in the mirror. Your body was hugged with a short, cream colored slip dress. A knitted pair of thigh highs with lace trim adorned your legs. It wasn’t over the top lingerie, but that’s exactly why Sam found it sexy.

A shiver ran through you as you recalled the last time you wore thigh highs in bed with Sam. You were about to take them off with the rest of your clothes, but he had caught your hand and begged you to keep them on. He spent an eternity between your thighs that night, the lace trim tickling his skin in the most perfect way.

You took a deep breath and exited the bathroom, leaving your insecurities behind you. Sam was right where you left him, sitting in the wooden chair that was way past its expiration date. Except this time, his eyes immediately find you standing in the doorway like it was some kind of picture frame.

His lips part as he trails his vision down your body, stopping on your thighs and the lace that appears at the top of your knee. You smile as you slowly walk over to him and stand between his legs that automatically widen for you.

“I must’ve fallen asleep,” he says as he leans into your palm that cups his cheek, “I’m dreaming.”

You giggle as you pinch his cheek and whisper, “Nope, wide awake.”

He smiles in response and runs his hands down your waist to your hips.

“Then maybe I died and went to heaven since I’m seeing an angel.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull him in for a kiss. He breathes out through his nose as he cups the back of your head. You pull back from his lips and kiss his nose.

“You needed a break, I had to pull you away.”

He looks back to his laptop for a second, hesitating only slightly before closing it.

“How could I resist such a pretty little distraction?”

You gasp in fake shock. “You really think I’m pretty?”

His lips quirk up. “The prettiest… now come here.”

He pulls you closer by your waist, and lifts you like a feather for you to straddle his lap. His lips are back on yours in an instant, but not for long as he trails his kisses down to your jaw and to your neck, brushing back your hair for easier access. He gently sucks on your pulse point. Not enough to leave a mark, (though he desperately wants to) but enough to make you let out a small moan at the feeling.

Sam chuckles into your neck at your reaction and starts to rock your hips into the bulge slowly growing in his jeans. You bite into his shoulder and pull on the waves of his hair near his neck. He comes up from your neck and lets out a low groan as he rocks you harder against him.

Suddenly, you hear the chair below you start to squeak in rhythm with your grinding. Before you stop, Sam whispers in your ear, “Ignore it.”

You keep moving your hips, but the squeaking grows louder and the chair starts to sway with each thrust.

“Sam,” you giggle out, “I think we’re going to break this goddamn chair.”

Sam stops moving your hips and lets out another groan, this time an annoyed one. He chuckles as he rests his forehead against your shoulder.

“Fine,” he says as he stands up from the chair with you clutching onto him. “To the bed then.”

He walks the two steps it takes for his long legs to reach the foot of the bed, kisses the top of your head, and then tosses you onto the mattress.

You land with a loud laugh but quickly direct your attention back to Sam, who was taking his shirt off at the end of the bed. He smirks as he sees you bite your lower lip at the sight of his bare upper body. His eyes run down your body, stopping on your thigh highs once again while he unbuckles his belt.

You bend your knees and allow your legs to fall apart, revealing a sight of no panties under your slip dress to Sam. His breathing grows heavier as he zeros in on the new surprise that you just exposed to him.

Once his pants and boxers have joined his shirt on the floor, he kisses your ankle. Then your shin. The little scar on your knee. Multiple kisses up your inner thigh.

He fully lays down on the bed and peels your slip dress up your hips, leaving the small amount of fabric bunched around your waist. He lifts your covered thighs over his broad shoulders; a position all too familiar.

He blows out a cold current of air onto your glistening pussy and you welcome a shudder of anticipation to flow through your body. Hazel eyes that looked more brown in this moment than gold, green, or blue met your own eyes. Those same puppy dog eyes watch you as he licks a stripe up your slit. His eyes close as he tastes you for the first time tonight. It had been too long.

Sam immediately gets to work on eating you out. His hands fiddle with the lace trim of your thigh highs while his tongue laps up the wetness that you produce for him. His eyes stay closed, brows furrowed, and his hips start gently thrusting into the mattress below him, causing you to moan out at the scene unfolding in front of you. All because of you.

Because of you, Sam is almost drowning in between your legs. And because of him, you’re gushing.

Your climax arrives too quickly. It always does with Sam. The feeling of pure sin washes over you as you gasp out Sam’s name with a collection of “thank you’s.” He only stops after your legs relax around his head. He leaves a kiss on your puffy clit and quickly moves up your body to kiss your lips.

“I need to feel you, angel,” Sam breathes out between rushed kisses.

You nod as you whisper out, “Please?”

He smiles against your lips. “So polite.”

You can feel him reach a hand down to his cock, stroking it once before pressing into you.

Sam was always gentle during this moment. He has to know that he’s big. He slowly gives you inch by inch, instructing you to breathe when he gets down to the last few. He lets out a groan as he buries himself fully to the hilt.

He pauses to let you get used to him as he kisses all around your face, ever the sweetheart.

“Don’t think I tell you enough how much I like these.” Sam snaps the lace of the thigh highs against your skin, leaving a pleasant burn.

“I kinda figured it out last time.” You clench around his length at the thought. “You were so hot, Sam. You always are.”

He laughs breathlessly. “You’re getting riled up, baby.”

He slowly pulls his length out, and even more slowly pushes it back in.

“Sam…fuck.” You let out the loudest moan of the night.

“There she is.” He grunts as his thrusts get more forceful.

You wrap your arms around his neck and moan into his ear, begging him to give you more. And of course he does, because it’s Sam. He gives you anything you ask for.

“Fuck, angel. I’m so deep.” Sam brings his hand down to press on your lower stomach, making you moan. “You feel that, baby?”

You could almost cry at the feeling of him so deep inside of you. You wish he would stay inside of you forever. You wish that you could become one.

The hand that was pressing on your belly goes lower and starts circling your sensitive clit. Your hands grab handfuls of the bedsheets under you as Sam gives you more and more pleasure with every passing second.

Sam’s other hand pulls down the loose strap of your slip dress and kisses the newly exposed skin of your collarbone area. He pulls the dress down even further to free your nipple, which he swiftly licked and then took into his mouth.

You brought a hand to his head and pulled back on his hair, directing his mouth to yours for a sloppy kiss. The pace of his thrusts quickened, causing the bed to squeak on its four wooden legs and hit the wall every so often. The sound didn’t even register to either of you who were so lost in each other.

“M’ close, baby,” Sam grunts out, his accent growing thicker. “M’ gonna cum deep inside of you, honey.”

You moaned at his words. “Please, Sammy. Need you to fill me up.”

Those words caused Sam to bury himself deep inside of you, let out the lowest groans, and release in your tight walls.

The feeling of his hot cum shooting into you triggered your second and final orgasm of the night. This time, you press your lips to Sam’s again; more panting into each other’s mouths than a kiss.

Sam falls into your arms, and you welcome the weight of the giant man on top of you. You comb your fingers through his hair as his thumb traces circles into your hips. You both soak in the feeling of complete love for each other.

Suddenly, the door opens as a drunk Dean walks in with his hand over his eyes. “Jeez you guys, I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Could hear you from down the hall.”

You burst out laughing as Sam yells at Dean to get out.

Dean turns around and pulls the door shut as he yells over his shoulder, “Get dressed so I can sleep, you freaks!”

You giggle at the bitch face that Sam couldn’t hide. Your thumbs automatically gravitate to his face to smooth out the grumpy lines between his eyebrows.

“Every time!” You say, referring to Dean interrupting your post-sex cuddles.

Sam smiles. “Maybe we should put a sock on the door next time.”

You giggle and give an alternative solution, “Or, a sign that says if the bed’s rockin’ don’t come knockin’ jerk.”

Sam smiles and gets up from you, putting his hand out for you to grab. “Come on, let’s get dressed.”

“Sam, I don’t think I can walk.” You take his hand anyway, just to hold it.

He wastes no time in picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom where your bag still sat. “I’ll take care of you.”

You were sure he could see the cartoon heart eyes that you made for him.

“You always do.”

[girlokwhatever]

can u do reader coming home drunk after a nightout and paige takes care of her?🥺 (smut or fluff is fine)

𝄞₊ ⊹˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ taking care of you,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

paige is sitting in your shared apartment’s living room when she hears you fumbling with the keys outside. she immediately sets down her textbook, opening the door before you can even find the right key. she’s been expecting your arrival after you texted her a jumble of words, piecing together ‘home’ and ‘soon.’

you went out with a few of your friends from class to a local club, trying to unwind after a stressful few weeks. of course she wanted you to have fun but sometimes if other people were drinking, you tended to do the same. unfortunately for you, you were a lightweight.

“baby!” your eyes gleam at her, wide and glossy. you’re a bit of a bubbly drunk tonight, finding everything funny and somewhat joyful. you smiled at your girlfriend and jumped into her, craving her touch after being away for a few hours.

“hey ma, how was your night? had fun?” she catches you, holding the back of your thighs when you wrap your legs around her. your smile immediately turns to a dramatic frown, bottom lip pouted out. she has to resist the urge to kiss you, settling for the feeling of your body heat on hers.

“this guy was flirting with me paigey,”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, told ‘em i have a pretty girlfriend already.”

now she’s smiling at you like a dope, pride swelling in her heart at your little story. you’re smiling with pride too, as if you just got told you did a good job. you’re paige’s favorite person in the world, no doubt. so hearing you brag about her is something that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“how much did you drink?” she’s closing the door now, not missing the smell of alcohol when your soft breath hits her face. you shrug your shoulders because you genuinely have no clue. just from your answer, or lack of one, she knows it was a lot more than you can probably handle for one night.

you drop your legs from around your girlfriend and she lets you, letting go of the grip she has on your thighs. you wobble for a second while you adjust to standing on your own again. paige watches you carefully, slightly concerned at how out of it you seem. she finds herself getting a little angry at your friends for letting you drink so much, but she lets it go because she knows it was all in good fun.

“oh.. wow. that’s not-“ your hands are on your stomach and paige knows what’s about to happen. she’s ushering you to the bathroom, lifting the toilet lid, and pulling any loose hair out of your face. she lets you get it all out, patting your back and telling you it’s ok, the same way she always does. if you weren’t battered drunk it would probably make you blush.

“are you okay?”

you silently nod, already feeling a bit more sober. paige sends you a soft smile, kissing your forehead and pulling away again to turn on the shower. she grabs your pj’s from your room and when she comes back you’re half asleep against the wall.

“baby, gotta get you cleaned up okay?”

now you’re both in the shower together while paige lathers the shampoo and conditioner into your hair. you pleaded with her to get in with you, still not feeling the best. she said yes, tied her hair up in a bun, took off her clothes, and now she’s in here. with you.

she helps you rinse your hair out (she does it without any of your help) and just takes a moment to admire you. it seems you had the same idea though, staring up at paige with doe eyes. she notices you’re not exactly smiling, a light frown taking your features.

“what’s wrong?”

“miss you p,”

“i’m right here”

“yeah but.. you’re in minnesota.”

paige is genuinely shocked at your statement, laughing out loud and throwing her head back at what you said. she was in minnesota for a few days last month and you couldn’t free your schedule enough to go with her, which is what she thinks you’re referring to. of course in your drunk mind you think she’s making fun of you, which only makes you feel worse. you step out of the shower, the cold apartment air making your nipples peak and your body shiver.

paige follows in suit, having to hold her breathe at the sight of you. she jogs to your room, putting her own pajamas on and quickly returning to you.

“baby i’m sorry. don’t be upset please, i wasn’t laughing at you.”

you’re clothed too, standing in between paige and the bathroom counter as she rubs lotion on your back from underneath your shirt. her hands are large and warm, smoothing over your skin with a delicacy that you appreciate. you don’t exactly realize it all the time, but paige does a phenomenal job at taking care of you. especially on nights like this.

“yes you were.”

“ok… i was. but! but- it’s because i was just a little shocked, is all.”

you turn to face her, eyes scanning over her face until you determine how you feel. you try to remember what you even said, but nothing’s popping up so you decide to just forget it.

“feeling better?”

“for a kiss.” paige kisses you, gentle and soft. her hands situated on your hips pull you closer until you’re chest to chest. all of the sudden you’re pulling away with a frantic energy, like you just remembered something of the upmost importance.

“skincare!” you (in true clumsy fashion) try hopping up on the counter. once you fail a few times and then some, paige decides to just lift you herself. she digs through your drawer, not knowing where to start.

you don’t even seem to be in the same universe, eyes closed and legs swaying ever-so little. she decides to just pick a few things, mixing them all together in her hands before smoothing it over your face. it isn’t really her thing, you’re always the one doing it for her and yourself. once she’s satisfied, she taps your legs and kisses your nose. your eyes flutter, giving her a lazy smile.

“ready for bed?”

“mhm”

“brush your teeth first” you groan and she smiles as she walks away, pulling the covers back and throwing extra pillows to the floor. by the time she’s cut all the nights off in the apartment and returned, you’re rinsing your mouth out with water. she notices you’re ever more clumsy than usual, knocking over a few things on the counter and almost tripping over your own feet before she catches you.

“c’mere baby,” paige motions you closer, picking you up and carrying you to your shared bedroom. she lays on her back with you on top of her still, never letting go.

her face nuzzles into your damp, freshly washed hair. your face buries itself into her neck, the slow thump of her pulse helping ground you to reality. you couldn’t ever remember a time being this drunk, but to be fair you couldn’t remember much of anything right now. just that you love paige, and paige loves you.

“hey wait, take this advil and drink some water before you pass out please.” you whine, obviously too comfortable to lift your head.

“no. don’t wanna.”

“for a kiss?”

“…..fine.”

ㅤᵕ̈⋆｡°✩`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡✮☾☼

just finished reading like 5 diff kate martin stories on wattpad guys

also this isn’t spell checked pls forgive me

[biibini]

nsfw modern!mizu headcannons

a/n: i cannot contain the voices anymore. also 100+ likes on last headcannon???? holy shi i love u all

if u guys have any modern!mizu ideas, feel free to send them over! i’d love to read them all <3

nsfw 18+ content ahead!

oh boy where do i begin

modern!mizu wants u to use ur words

typically for safety as well as to get a rise out of u

she always reminds u of the safe word before anything happens

every time like clockwork

u tease her a few times ab how it’s like a script

she wants both of u to have fun while sticking to ur comfort zones

(always use a safeword 🫶)

besides safety, she loves it when u become vocal

whether it’s a simple stutter or moan slipping out, she loves to hear noises come out of her girl

when u two are making out, if a moan slips out between ur lips, she can read u so easily

modern!mizu is also vocal herself

hello? episode 5???

it would probably be a mix of moans and praise to u

she loves seeing ur reaction every time she praises u

ur reactions are almost like a drug to her

seeing ur mouth turn to an ‘o’ or any sudden changes in ur breathing are the little things that make her keep praising u

if the reaction is u getting more soaking wet, she gets so turn on

however if u go down on her, she would be rambling on and on ab how good ur doing

it would all turn into mush and she would eventually fold

finding herself trying to continue the praising but end up saying incoherent words, moaning under ur touch

speaking of wet

modern!mizu is always a little surprised with how wet u can get under her touch

it rlly turns her on so much

whether it’s her lips kissing and leaving dark red marks on ur sensitive neck

or light squeezes her fingers would make as she massages the outer part of ur thighs

her hands slowly inching towards the softer, inner section

once she starts inching closer to ur wet mess, she likes to keep u close by hooking her arms around ur thighs

she can make sure she can see u in full view

and totally not let u escape

ur not escaping from those arms

(yes ive stated this in the last headcannon but cmon its so good)

it always leaves u in a moaning mess

and her with ur juices all over her mouth and chin and her fingers too

if it’s just her hands moving, she’ll constantly remind u to loosen up ur legs so they stay open

“Y/N, I’m still here hon.” She chuckled, tapping the inside of ur thigh. You nod, letting go of ur legs and opening up. This was her third time reminding you tonight.

You take a peek at her work, looking down as her middle and ring finger continue to enter your insides at a slow pace. Mizu’s attention shifted from you down to her work, searching for your most sensitive spot. Her fingers start to pull out from your throbbing walls again, entering you in one deep thrust.

“Mizu!” You yelp. Only a hum comes out of Mizu as she continues to push her fingers in and out of your gushing mess. Your juices continue to cover her two digits as they pump at a faster pace, hitting deeper in ur core.

modern!mizu would never admit it to u but it would be so easy for her to get off to the sound of ur voice

when u had an out-of-state summer internship, she was excited for ur new adventures

however, both of u failed to realize how lonely the summer would be (horny wise)

she tried to stay patient by keeping herself busy at home with eiji or at the gym while u were at ur internship during the day

she would always get reminders of u whenever she looked at ur phone or the plushie u won on one of ur dates

during the night was more difficult with an empty bed

she thought she could stay patient

keyword: thought

she was on edge for most of the 6 weeks you were gone and nearly threw a basketball at taigen

whenever u guys would call at the end of the week to catch up, she was thankful every week that u werent sharing a room with anyone

it was ur first time trying out phone sex at the end of ur first week

u became a very big fan.

hearing mizu guide u with her voice, almost shaky from how much she’s been holding back this week

on the last week, she was running out of patience and being more dominant than usual

typically during sex, u would hear a lot of praise from her end of the line

but this week, she edged the line of degradation

it was rlly fucking hot

“S’good for me, baby.”

“Pump those fingers faster, like how I would.”

You were a sweaty mess, lying on your bed on one of the final nights in the city. Lights off, your phone was lying next to you, deep into an 25 minute call turned phone sex with Mizu. Your fingers were pleasuring you, trying to remember the rhythm of your lover from back home.

Sticking to Mizu’s words, you began to move your fingers faster. Your pussy was dripping wet, still remembering the vague feeling of Mizu’s long, slender fingers. She was able to push inside you much deeper. Your core starts to remember the similar pace, pleasure rising in you.

On the other hand, your mind replaces your current situation as if Mizu was physically next to you. One hand caressing your cheek while the other was exploring deep inside you. Her body above you, her blue eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

“M-Mizu…” You let out loud, your phone barely catching your voice. Eyes closed, you were trying to focus on your imagination.

“Y/N…” Mizu said, nearly whispering into her phone. She knew her dad could knock out but the walls at home were thin.

Mizu could only hear faint moans and whimpers from her end as she was using a toy you used on her a few times.

As she got closer, she started to turn up the volume. But it did little to no change as your melody continued to pour out.

“Baby I’m getting close. What about you?”

Only a whimper arose out of her phone. You were way too into your recreation to recognize Mizu asking a question.

“Baby?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Are you trying to remember my fingers again?”

“Yes.” You stuttered out. You could barely speak as you fastened your pace, feeling a familiar warmth build up.

“My baby misses me- ah- so much hm?” Mizu said, fastening her pace as well, trying to match your pleasure levels.

Louder moans only came out of your mouth. You could feel your fingers get tightened more and more, your insides getting ready to spasm out.

“Fuck- my Y/N fucking herself on her fingers? My little slut.”

Hearing her call you her little slut was your breaking point. Your insides start to spasm and lose control of your imagination. Your hips bucking & grinding into your fingers, still pumping into you with little energy you had.

All Mizu could hear from her phone was your cries, moans, and your voice continuously crying her name out loud. She quickly finished as you cried her name one last time, panting into the phone.

[pinkyqil]

salma p. x reader who's not a footballer

prompt: blind date

location: barcelona

Blind date // salma paralluelo

Salma had been getting restless teasing from her friends and fellow teammates. Especially about her lover life or when she came back from one of her horrid dates that went awful.

"So Salma how did your last date go". vicky asked her with a teasing voice.

"Ugh I don't even want to talk about it spare me please".

"Nope you don't get to butt out of telling us". Pina and patri told her along with esme and ona agreeing with there statements.

She told them how it went especially how the other girl had accidentally spill a drink on her after refusing to give her free tickets to there next game and how she basically got ditched mid date.

"So your telling me she threw her drink on you after you declined her request and left you for someone else". vicky said before bursting into laughter along with the other girl's.

"Very well figured out genius". salma throwing her head back before laughing with them.

"You basically got toyed with amiga I feel bad for you.patri told her

"Thanks for the reminder guys let's go before we have to do extra laps". She told the group of friends before jogging away.

"I feel bad now guys poor salma".vicky told the group of girls as they made there way down

"Yeah". they said in tune before making there way back.

"Salma salma". Ona called up the tall girl trying to reach her before she left.

Upon hearing her name begin called she turned around to a already tried ona.

"Yes".she said

"Are you free tonight?".ona asked her

"Yep got nothing to do but watch a film".

"How about a blind date-".before ona could finish she got a no

"No after what I told you expect me to go on another one especially a blind date?".

"Please think about it I'll send you the details I promise you she's a good one". Ona explained to a very bother salma.

Salma found herself staring at ona's messages for a ungodly amounts of time.her heart and mind kept telling her two different things. Go and just enjoy yourself or stay and avoid going on the blind date knowing whatever could happen.

She decided to go knowing she's dealt with worse slama was never the type to face her challenges but when she did, she definitely takes over.so here she was looking through her closet and looking for the perfect fit to wear knowing that she was definitely going to be late.

She dusted her outfit one last time before heading inside the mini cafe restaurant. the nervousness was gone the moment she felt the cafe peaceful atmosphere. spoting a darked haired woman at the table she mentally cursed herself out for being late.

"Hi sorry for coming in late something came up". she said before taking a sit the moment she looked at you she felt and insanely amount of butterflies in her stomach.

Forget gorgeous you we're breathtaking when her eyes meet yours.

"No worries I didn't have to wait that long".you told her.

The date went smoothly in fact amazing.you both got to know each other a lot more and surprisingly you both had a lot more in common than you thought.

finding out that night she loved going for runs midnight jogs just like you made your heart flutter especially with how flirty she got mid date making you blush hard that you we're probably different shade.

After a while you both took a walk in the beautiful city of Barcelona holding hands breeze in your face and a fresh moment for you both.

"Same time next week". she asked you

"Definitely I really enjoyed the date salma thanks for making it meaningful for me".you told her

"No thank you I was actually contemplating on coming after awful date encounters but I'm glad I did".

The next day salma woke up with butterflies her mind was just filled with thoughts about seeing you and your next date together.

but sadly those thought had been interrupted when she head for training.

First person she saw would be ona who looked over the moon to see her telling from the huge grin she had on her face.

"Soo by the smile on your face I can assume the date went well".

"It did come one let's head down and I'll tell you everything".has she grabbed ona's hand so that they could partner up for drills and she's spils the date tea.

A/n: hope you like it added a lil twit of my own I'm still taking in the 3 player prompt thing all you gotta do is send in a player prompt and location hope y'all like enjoy this fic and has always feedbacks are appreciated 💗

© PINKYQIL

[r0semaryt3a]

Hi, could I please request a collective scenario of the Phantom Troupe going on a first date with their s/o?

And if possible them going to choose a pet (arguably the more chaotic the better, but whoever animal works fine) with their s/o?

Thank you 🥰

Oh absolutely! I’ll admit to it now, these may be a little ooc but still, I love this idea sm. ofc I’m only gonna do Chrollo, Shalnark, Machi, Paku, Feitan and Phinks w the dates (though may return to this at a later date for the others) - p.s this won’t contain spoilers so for that one friend who knows me on here and reads my stuff feel free to read this.

(I’m including Hisoka and Illumi in this because that pet suggestion is perfect!)

Without further ado:

Chrollo

Where you go will just depend on how you know him. You know him from the Troupe? It’s anyone’s guess! Maybe he’ll take you out for the full shabam, maybe you’ll just sit cuddled up: reading. A candle flickering softly beside you as you rest against his chest, his voice echoing through you with every passing page. Your eyes grow groggy and you hear him chuckle, “tired sweetheart?” Your answer doesn’t matter much. You’ll remain where you are. Carefully perched on his lap as you drift off, his fingers playing absentmindedly with your hair. Suddenly, his attention wasn’t really on his book anymore.

Or, maybe you’ll just walk! You know who he is; probably where he came from he sees no reason to put up an act with you. A simple chat will do.

If you know him from one of his many escapades, know the him all dolled up and fake then you’ll probably wind up at a fancy restaurant. He’ll treat you to the works, the full 9*. You’ll be able to indulge in whatever you desire (and hopefully by the end of the night: him. Though his expectations are quite low on that.)

Can’t imagine him being very touchy on a first date, not unless he was properly invested. Like if you knew each other a while and the event wasn’t spontaneous I can imagine him being very cuddly. You’ve agreed to go on a date with him, this will not be the last and he’s certainly going to get what he can out of it.

So, if you’re a target that he’s had his eye on for a while, he’ll put up a gentlemanly front: butter you up. Try his luck as his arm comes to rest against the crook of your back, fingers running small circles agaisnt your hips. You’re practically glued to his side as he looks down at you with that oh so charming smile. Or how he insists on another bottle of wine for you both to share whilst you’re sat at the table, just to watch the way you trip over yourself. Each slurred word sending shivers down his spine. He’ll offer you a hotel in your inebriated state: walking you to your room, keeping you steady. A part of him (an alarmingly large part he notes) wishes to be bold and leave you a souvenir of your night together, the rest of him knows how to play this game. Knows better than that. He’ll leave it be for tonight, no use in moving too fast after all. You’re an investment. One he intends to make worth his while.

Aaaaand if you’re some lucky shmuck: he’ll see how the night goes. Truth be told, he’s using you. You were his pass for whatever caper he happened to be on the night you two met and since then you’ve been simply smitten. He can’t say it’s been a bother, you’re cute by all means considered and don’t impose on his work: so he humoured you. And now, you’re sat face to face as he spins another tale of his grandiose, noble lineage. You were so enthralled in his lies. The night would drag on and before you knew it, a swift peck on the cheek; promise for another and he’d be gone.

In terms of choosing a pet with an S/O Chrollo strikes me as the kind of guy who’d go for a cat. It’s not top docile but not some unruly beast. Plus, there’s the added bonus of letting it wander: it won’t demand attention at every second of the day. Just slink in and slink out every now and then. It’d probably be a stray, he has a tendency to like them more.

If we’re going on terms of expense? Lizards, you’d wind up with a whole bunch of expensive and equally exotic reptiles. A chameleon maybe? Just like him, it can blend into any crowd. A kindred spirit.

Feitan

A date? With him? Really? But why? That’s just a waste of time.

Unlike Chrollo, Feitan doesn’t do outside gigs often and especially doesn’t do anything that would involve getting touchy feely. So, likelihood is you’re a fellow trope member or at least someone who knows him well.

Still. Getting a date with him will be hard.

Obscenely so.

You’ll most likely stay at whatever base the Troupe had made, maybe play a game? Talk?

If he’s feeling up to it he’ll probably steal a fancy Chardonnay and light candles, it’s nothing too special but it’s a nice touch.

If he’s the one to suggest the date however. Oh boy, you best prepare good.

Feitan is an odd soul, he doesn’t really understand that you might not want to start the date with him brutally mangling a chauffeur. But, the rest of the night will certainly make up for that. You won’t be leaving his side: at all, like not once. Don’t even try it. His hand is glued to yours as he drags you through streets. He made an effort tonight, in a suit.

It’s anyone’s guess as to where you’ll wind up, most likely a store you’d expressed interest in, a movie you’d been talking about recently or a restaurant that you liked the food from. Either way it’s free for the both of you.

You may wind up completely alone on a candle lit dinner, flirtatious banter rolling of his tongue in drunken clumps if he loosens up enough (which is a big if)

He’ll bite you at least once throughout the date. Not even because he thought it would be romantic, he just wanted to.

Pet wise? Something small, that he can vary around. Probably a snake or a rodent. He’d say things like “Need violent. Help out.” Then you’ll catch him with his little rat nestled into his hood.

It’s not a pet for the both of you, it’s a pet for him. Which, you don’t really mind afterall it quells his little attachment outbursts

Phinks

Basic. I mean real basic.

He’s nervous as on a first date.

Will talk about himself a lot but he’s not trying to be rude (maybe)

You’ll most likely head out to a restaurant or a movie.

Unlike Feitan, Phinks may actually pay for his meal and the event’s expenses. Give the facade of a normal date and not a robbery.

If you know him from the troupe he probably won’t prioritise keeping up appearances unless you’ve expressed you want a normal night. If you don’t: it’ll be like every teen movie fantasy.

He had protested agaisnt your movie of choice, called it “bland” and talked of there “being so many better options.” But, you swear, with his eyes glued intently on the screen before you; his arm slung over your shoulder, you caught the occasional flicker of a smile.

Pet wise? Dog. This is just a fact, you’re getting a dog. Maybe a Labrador or a Cane Corso? He’s a sucker for loyalty and more than willing to put in the effort of caring for it.

Machi

“A date? But why? We spend enough time together here, don’t we?”

It’s not that she doesn’t want to go on one, she’s just aware that her presence as an on site doctor is important. (And values the money)

She’s perfectly capable of being romantic; this date will show that. When you inevitably get her to cave.

It’ll probably be a cafe, ice cream venue: something small. Unlike the others, she doesn’t try to blow you away with bold or tacky displays. The image will perfectly replicate a domestic scene.

The two of you, sat beside one another on a flimsy outdoor table. You’d ordered milkshakes, similarly to Phinks if you wanted normalcy she’d be more than happy to pay, occasional bouts of small talk drifted between the two of you. Eventually her hand found your own and the small talk fell to teasing, a gentle thumb caressing the back of your hand. “How’s your drink?” The question seemed off in the onslaught of flirtatious remarks, her monotonous front swiftly returning. She hummed at your response. “Want to try some of mine?”

If you refuse, she’ll simply shrug and return to the mismatch mix of small talk and romance.

If you say you do want to however, that’s a different story. She pushes the glass towards you; you lean in -tentatively- to grab it. Nothing much else happens: the flavours meet your tongue and your guard begins to lower. Suddenly, a warmth floods through you, as in a swift motion, Machi planks a kiss on your cheek. It’s nothing big, nothing bold. But, it lasts, a lingering knot in your chest. She’s had the effect she wanted and knows that. It was cute watching you regain composure: keep your guard up, she’ll be testing your reflexes again soon.

Pet wise I’m thinking a scavenger, like a fox or something. She’s not going to get a conventional pet, maybe on your way back home you catch a glimpse of orange? She’s enamoured with the thing in seconds.

Either that or a bird, she’d probably train it to help with her nensticthes. (not that she needs it)

Shalnark

He’s the one to ask you.

The date’s perfect, down to every detail. All tailored to your tastes.

He’s very cuddly during the whole ordeal so best be prepared.

The date itself would consist of a flurry of different activities, all scheduled to fit neatly into whatever time you had. If something were to come up that you seemed particularly fond of, he’d drop the rest. Instead, turning his attention to ensuring you kept on enjoying whatever it was you were both doing.

Shalnark strikes me as the kind of guy to want to go shopping for a date and likely wouldn’t be of shy of this fact. Bringing a small purse (mostly filled with trinkets and not actually money) to elude to his wants.

You’re ending the night with at least 1 set of matching items and him practically glued to you: one arm wrapped around your waste and another occasionally fiddling with loose aspects of your attire, bombarding you with questions: “did you enjoy yourself?” “Ooh, next time we should get XXX.” “Why’d you choose to wear this? Not that I’m complaining, you look stunning, just curious~”

Overall? It’s quite the fruitful experience.

Pet wise: Shalnark doesn’t really care, he’s always wanted to see how well he could look after a fish or rodent of some kind but has also always adored the idea of owning some big, fluffy creature. He’ll most likely wind up looking up pros and cons and running off of that.

Pakunoda

Restaurant date all the way.

Like Shalnark, she’s the one to suggest the idea to you.

She goes all out. And I mean all out. When you first see her, she’s stunning. Hair pristine, brilliant outfit, heels adding to her already towering height.

She’s not shy with compliments, her hand resting in the crook of your arm. Every word is picked with poise, with no doubt on sincerity.

The night is normal all things considered, she’s more than willing to pay and almost bends over backwards to ensure nothing ‘thievish’ happens.

The dinner would be lovely, you can’t help but note the meticulous care placed into every action. The seating giving you just the seclusion she needs to smother you with flirtatious quips. She’s good with her tongue as well, knows every which way, every which syllable to elicit the exact reactions she wants. The night would be one to remember; depending on the status of your relationship, might stay with you a few days longer.

“You like the food, love?” You mumble your response through a mouthful, nodding your head to accentuate your point. This earns a hearty laugh from the woman, “Mhm, I’m glad to hear it.” Her eyes don’t leave your figure for one second. She’d been like that all night, drinking in every aspect of your form, “Have I told you how good you look tonight?” She had, a lot, but the sentiment stood strong nonetheless.

Pet wise? Also a cat. Paku’s just a cat lady I don’t make the rules, probably a long hair. Like a Turkish Angora or Cymric.

Hisoka

Oh boy. Really? I mean, really?

It’s your funeral and I’m not even certain I can say that figuratively.

The date is anyone’s guess. Could be a restaurant or it could be something obscene like rock climbing, rollerblading, go karting. Whatever it is, it won’t be boring.

He’ll pick an activity that forces proximity, you’re going to be close for the whole night. A means of bonding if you will.

Hisoka thrives on attention and watching skill in action, so his ideal date would encompass both of those qualities. On one hand, you’re both pressed up against one another, full reign to do what you’d like (within account of public decency of course) and on the other, you’re showing exceptional stamina and strength in keeping up with him.

No shortage of flirting here folks, every other word will carry some lewd innuendo you’re sure not to miss.

By the end you’ll definitely have some marks on you, whether from him or the date itself is 50/50. If it is from the date’s activities however, he’d always be open to remedy that.

“I have to say, I’m quite impressed you know.” The words were hardly audible from your positioning, you were far more focused on keeping yourself upright anyhow. “If I’d have known you were this capable I would’ve suggested another activity.” There’s an underlying threat to his words, yet somehow the compliment (if you could call it that) leaves a pink hue upon your cheeks.

Pets. Hmmm, pets. Hisoka would need something that wouldn’t settle down, wouldn’t rely on routine so most domestic animals are off the table for him. Things that need specific conditions would also be a no. Overall Hisoka needs something that can keep up with his sporadic lifestyle, otherwise he’ll leave it behind. Which really leaves very little options on the table.

But, there’s a chance something might sweep him off his feet and I’d be willing to bet that’d be a spider or reptile of some kind, something that he knows could and would kill him. The thought of snakes and their incapability to love would probably excite him.

Illumi

Boring.

Very, very, very boring.

He does everything he’s meant to and I mean that he tick every little box. There’s no excitement here unless he has a job or someone does something.

And oh boy, you better believe you’re not walking out of there without at least something to show of it.

He is rather gentle with you, if it weren’t for his overall aloof demeanour you may be prone to calling it endearing. Overall, Illumi would be a rather: interesting case. Unless you somehow sparked something in him you’d probably be best holding off on the dates for a while. But hey! You tried right?

Pet wise, why would he need another? He has Mike. It’s a little too much responsibility with how much he moves around, though if he had to chose it’d probably be a rabbit. Why? He couldn’t say, has just always been drawn to them.

This is like my first time writing any of these characters other than Chrollo so I hope I did them justice-

[sinsofbeauty]

Red Stained Sunflower Pt. 3

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, Suggestive Nsfw content, Cigarette mention/usage, SMUT!!, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected (Stay safe), slight choking, and more but I don’t wanna spoil the fun ;3

Requested?: Yeeee!!!

Overview: If the events that happened the night before weren't enough, then tonight sure as hell would be. After an awkward encounter, you find yourself alone with the man who has such a hold on you. Talking and playing around won’t compare to what you got yourself into tonight.

A/n: This is the last part of this little series!! If you would like to see more Johnny feel free to send me an ask/request! I got a couple in my inbox so I’ll be working on those! Johnny’s a little more soft but can be a bit aggressive in this one so if ya aint feeling it DNI!!

This chapter contains written NSFW content. Minors are advised to not interact!! Enjoy!

Red Stained Sunflower Pt.1 - Red Stained Sunflower Pt.2

You weren't prepared for really visiting the Slaughter home the next day. Your heart pumped strangely after Johnny left last night with his confident demeanor and witty remarks. You couldn't sleep all night from it. The man’s scent had still lingered in your room, especially on your bed where he decided to make himself comfortable. You hated him for that. You loved the thought of him but hated that he was constantly on your mind.

Now you were on your way to meet the man, telling your father that you would be at Maria’s for a bit. Lying, so that you could see the trouble that dipped so far into your heart. Walking along the dirt road in your favorite sundress and a small bag, you decided to go through the front instead of the back way close to the gardens like last time. It probably would be easier since it was getting late, the sun coming close to the horizon. 

You hurried your steps as your feet silently patted on the porch, before raising your hand to knock on the door. Your hand was mere centimeters away but suddenly stopped when you heard commotion coming from the other side. And it didn’t sound good either…

“Ya’ keep leavin’ without a trace and don’t tell nobody! The hell ya’ goin’ off to?!”

You carefully pushed your ear to the door to hear if anyone was nearby. If you can recall his name, it sounded like Drayton. The older gentleman who occasionally went by the name Cook among some members of the family. Given that he didn't seem to like your presence, you didn't actually talk to him all that much. When you laugh with Bubba and Nubbins, you may receive sidelong looks or little scoffs from the kitchen. He appeared agitated, and was questioning the person who had turned his mood so sour.

“That’s none of yer damn business, old man.” 

Oh… that’s who was getting interrogated. Johnny. What they were saying appeared to grab your attention, even though it shouldn't have startled you as much as it did. 

“It’s that girl again ain’t it? Ya’ keep goin’ out and followin’ ‘er like a gosh darn puppy!” Drayton had persisted in reprimanding Johnny, his aging voice hoarse with annoyance. “What’s so special ‘bout ‘er hm? She can’t do nothin’ for ya’-“

“Watch yer tone! Before ya’ start ta’ have a real problem on yer hands.”

Drayton and Johnny both appeared to be furious, but Johnny's stance was clearly more aggressive. Given that the older man made a comment regarding other girls, you weren't sure if they were talking about you or not. Your heart briefly ached as a result. You felt a tiny bit envious when you imagined Johnny with someone else. As you refocused on the exchanged words, you briefly dared to blink. 

“Calm ya’self Johnny!” Your ears twitch to the sound of Sissy’s voice. 

“Get off a me!” He growls, sudden footsteps approaching closer the door. “Yer quick ta’ start pointin’ fingers. Do I need ta’ remind ya’ how long ya’ left us fa’?”

“Don’t chu start yappin’ at me! Ya’ know what I needed ta’ do-“

“And I know what I’m doin’, so quit yer barkin!” 

You became aware that you were still listening in as footsteps began to move dangerously towards the door. You immediately moved away from the porch, to the side of the house where the bushes encumbered beneath the window. Bubba and Nubbins emerge from the door moments later once it had opened. You see from the bushes as the two enter the white pickup truck's back bay, with Sissy trailing behind them and moving toward the passenger-side door. Johnny is furiously flailing his arms behind Drayton as the older man stumbles out of the house.

When Johnny came closer, Drayton spun around and pointed a finger in his face as the younger man's brows furrowed. “She’s makin’ ya’ weak boy. Weak! And if I have ta’ tell ya’ ta’ leave ‘er alone again-!”

“What are ya’ so afraid of ol’ man?” The man’s eyelids lower in suspicion. “I don’t have ta’ explain anythin’ ta’ anybody, and I ain’t gonna let ya’ boss me ‘round like a kid.”

“So naive, wait until ya’ mother hears about this,” Cook chuckles, hopping into the truck. “Ya’ care ‘bout ‘er more than ya’ care ‘bout yer own family. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, once she realizes what you are, you’ll treat ‘em like the rest once she tries ta’ leave.” 

As you saw Drayton shut the door to the truck, his remarks caused your stomach to churn, giving you anxiety-filled butterflies. The vehicle had been started, and the engine was roaring as it backed into the driveway. Once it was turned around it drove off, leaving Johnny there speechless and heated as ever. You’ve never seen him so upset, so… filled with anger. He tightened his jaw and balled his fists into the palms of his hands, a vein protruding from the side of his temple. He looked like he could kill someone, right then and there. After a period of silence, he took a long breath in and let it out harshly.

“Yer terrible at hidin’.” 

As Johnny's statement rang across the air, your heart leaped and your eyes widened. Before turning around, he had let out an abrasive huff while his tongue prodded at the insides of his cheeks. “Ya’ can stop hidin’ darlin.” He only moves a few steps before his eyes and boots come to a complete stop on the ground. He was perceptive, and that was well noted. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his dark hair as his demeanor abruptly changed. “Come oooon, I know yer out here.”

Although you were uneasy, there was no use continuing to hide now that he had exposed you. A few seconds later, you emerged from the bushes, and Johnny's eyes shot open to meet yours. His chocolate brown eyes locked with yours at that very instant, and you could feel the rage and shame simmering behind them. With the broad grin that covered his face, he did a great job of hiding it. 

“How did you know I was here?” You asked, making him shrug his shoulders. “Could see yer footprints. They moved that way unlike the others,” His fingers pointed down to the ground, making you smirk and shake your head slightly. “Didn’t think ya’d be ‘ere so soon. Hell, thought ya’d go on and ditch me again~.” 

“Well… I uh, was thinking about it. After hearing all that.”

The smile on Johnny’s face faded as quick as it came, tilting his head slightly with the squint of his eyes. “How much did ya’ ‘ear?” He asked, stuffing his hands in his back pockets.

You fiddled with the fabric of your sundress, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it just happened to be a bad time and you didn’t want to get caught knowing they were talking about you. It was reasonable, but then again… maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to lie right in Johnny’s face.

“Enough…” You said, making the man turn his head away. “I know Drayton didn’t like me that much but not as… much as I thought.”

Johnny shook his head, a chuckle coming from his mouth. “Heh, yeah. I got some explainin’ ta’ do don’t I?” The man had lifted his arm, hand gesturing to you as he began to approach. “Walk wit’ me?”

He smiles once again at your head nod when he approaches. He took hold of your shoulders and pulled you along with him as the two of you moved to the side of the house. “So… about that explaining?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m gettin’ to it.” Johnny rolled his eyes playfully, removing his arm from you to run his fingers through his hair again. “So impatient. Next thing I know yer gonna be bossin’ me ‘round!”

“Thought you didn’t like being told what to do.” You say, his eyes narrowing to stare at you in a playful side eye. 

“I don’t.” His voice cracks with excitement, making you giggle in response. 

Both of you had stopped, and Johnny had positioned himself on a car's damaged hood. He had rested against it, his arms crossed, and his head tilted to the side. The male had observed as your eyes silently absorbed the magnificence of the meadows. You were patiently waiting for him to resume speaking, but the breathtaking scenery fully captured your attention. The scene of the sunflowers gently colored by the sun's rays as they sway side to side in the wind. The man behind you, who had hummed at the sight, was the only one who managed to divert your attention away from the view.

Your head turns, staring Johnny with his half lidded eyes. “I should’ve brought my camera.” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“Forgot. I was so busy getting ready that I left it on my dresser.” You had fumbled through your bag in your hip, looking into it for something. 

“Got all dolled up just fa’ me? Ya’ shouldn’t have~.” Johnny was… staring a lot, and it was awfully distracting. You don’t even remember what it was that you were looking for. 

“Oh shut up.” You say, putting your bag away to your hip. “Come up with that explanation yet?”

Johnny sighed and rubbed the side of his stubbled cheek as another smile appeared on his face. “What do ya’ wanna know?”

There were many things you wished to know. Why Drayton didn't like you, whether his family disapproved of you, whether he is seeing someone else, and whatever part of him the older man was referring to. There was just a lot on the table, and you didn't have much time to gather everything from him given how soon the sun would set. “Has Drayton always had something against me?”

“Doesn’t like any girl I bring home,” Johnny explained. “Says it’s a distraction. Don’t know what the problem is when I can handle myself.” 

“Maybe he’s just worried about you?”

“Should worry ‘bout his damn self.” Johnny rolled his eyes at that.

“Okay,” You walk over to him and hop onto the hood of the car to take a seat. “Does the rest of your family… not like me?”

Johnny didn’t say anything for a moment, averting his eyes away from you as he thought about it. The man looked up at the sky, nodding his head slightly. “I… don’t really know.” He finally responded. “Sissy has her suspicions. Nubbins doesn’t really care, I know big boy likes ya’ a lot.” 

“Who Bubba?” 

“Yeaaah,” His grin starts to appear again. “He’s like a kid, likes it when ya’ spend time with ‘im. Yer much nicer than the rest of us.” 

Well that was good to know at least. You smile at that, nodding your head to the thought. “I’m glad that he likes it when I’m around. He’s like a puppy, so energetic when he’s happy. Speaking of-“

“Oh god,” Johnny sighs out loudly. “Don’t— Don’t listen to anythin’ he said beginnin’ with that!” 

“So you follow me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groans out loud, shaking his head. “I don’t follow ya’!”

“What about the skatin’ rink?” 

“That was one time!” Johnny lifted his arms up as he exaggerated his lies. “That’s cause I wanted ta’ know what ya’s been doin’.”

“I mean you did break into my house,” You teased, making him huff in irritation. “Do you usually just go into places whenever you feel like it?”

The man cracked a bit, chuckling before shaking his head at you. “Breakin’ inta’ houses ain’t my usual thing. I like bein’ more… direct. If that’s whatcha call it.” Johnny shook his shoulders at the thoughts, giving the question more attention than he probably intended. “Maybe… I’ve seen ya’ a couple times in town.” 

“Sneaky thing aren’t you~.”

“Indeed I am~,” He realized right away that you were making fun of him. After pushing himself off the hood, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of crumpled smokes. 

“You’re not gonna smoke are you?” You ask with your eyebrows raised. “Those are bad y’know.”

“So nosey,” Johnny pulls out a cigarette and stuffs it into the side of his mouth. “Yer stressin’ me out with all these questions.”

“I can ask more.”

“Shut up.”

His grin seemed to morph into a naughty one when you were about to speak back to him. The chuckle that rumbled in his throat caused him to avert his eyes. He was aware of what you were about to say, and unlike yesterday, you were all by yourself with him. He smirked triumphantly and drew the lighter from his other pocket as you forced your mouth shut. However, you got an idea and got up off the car hood. You approach Johnny and snatch the cigarette out of his mouth. His expression was priceless and made you laugh out loud. 

“Uhm…hey?” He says reaching for the cigarette before you pull it back. He licks his lips with a sly grin, nodding his head. “Ohhh, okay. So that’s what we’re doin’ hm?”

“Maybe,” You reply. “Yer funny, now give it back before I take it.”

You stood there idly, not listening to a single word Johnny said. Johnny had taken that moment of silence to look over you, before his hand rushed to grab yours. It caught you off guard, your wrist with the cigarette being taken as he pulled you towards him. The front of your body collides with his, a small grunt coming from you. Looking up at the man your eyes widen. Cheeks flushed, you feel his other hand snake around your lower back to keep you there. Oh dear… what did you just get yourself into? “Tsk tsk. Yer playin’ a dangerous game here sweetheart.” Every word in Johnny's voice is dripping with seduction, like a warning sign. “If that’s whatcha wanna do, I’m all up fa’ the challenge~.” Johnny takes the cigarette from your hand and sticks it back in his mouth. What an absolute tease. The way your body effortlessly melted into him gave the man the confidence that he could get away with it. “What~? Wish I did somethin’ else wit’ ma’ mouth?” 

“If you wanted to, I’m sure you would have.” You say narrowing your eyes. 

“Oh really?” Johnny says, his hand behind your back moving to place itself on your abdomen. He moved you backwards, your hands coming in contact with the hood of the vehicle you sat on earlier. “What makes ya’ think I won’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe you do it to all your other little girlfriends.”

Your statement made Johnny laugh, having to take the smoke out of his mouth before it fell out. “Awww ya’ heard that too? Jealous~?” He made your lips purse, your eyes moving away to the side of you. “I’ll amuse ya’, so how ‘bout this. Yer the only one I’ve been talkin’ to fa’ a while.”

You look back up at Johnny, who had stuffed the cigarette back in its little box. “So amused,” You roll your eyes, trying to remove yourself away from Johnny but all he did was stand in your way. He was so close to you, that he practically had you pinned against the car and him. 

“Lookin’ a lil’ sour there honey.” He teased, the cigarette box being placed back in his pocket. “Still jealous~?”

“N-No…” You stammered, swallowing thickly when you tried to look away.

Johnny chuckles as he detects your lies. He was making you so anxious and driving you mad by imagining the other women he's seen. He was undeniably so close to your body that you would bump into him if you even attempted to move. His hands, which were still protected by his grime-stained gloves, advanced to your waist. When his face got close to yours, it made you hold your breath and your heart race.

“Can’t fool me darlin’, yer a terrible liar too.” His nose brushes against yours before he pulls his head back again. “I promise~, yer the only one I got eyes on.” Before you feel them move to your hips, the hold on your waist becomes tighter. You were raised back onto the car's hood a short while later. Johnny reached out and traced his fingertips along your exposed thighs without pausing. “Yer the only one I want.”

Once more, his face approaches yours, but this time he maintains his distance. The once-orange sky was beginning to turn dark, misty blue as the sun dropped below the horizon in the distance. The view in front of you now... drew you in more than ever, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him. Your head subconsciously turned in his direction as quiet breaths filled the chilly air in the silence. 

“I want you too…” You say quietly, making the man in front of you grin.

“Hm?” He hums, moving himself in between your legs. “Ya’ want me?”

The man takes one moment to remove his gloves while you nod your head. He places them beside you, grabs your legs, hooks them around his waist, then grabs your hips. 

“All of me?” 

Your hands that had been resting on the hood, came and cupped the sides of his cheeks. “Yes,” You reply. “I want all of you, Johnny.” 

“Ya’ sure?” The male wasn’t hesitant, he just knew what both of you were going to get into. You knew this yourself, and you nodded once more. “Good, cause I’mma keep ya’ aaaaall to myself~.” 

The man's lips had touched yours at that point. Your entire body experienced waves of arousal as well as butterflies throughout your stomach. His touch was felt, and the satisfaction from his lips lingered on your own. It appeared as though he was directing you through every step due to the way they moved so perfectly alongside yours. He tasted metallic and minty, with a hint of tobacco. 

He pulled back from the kiss as his bare hands took hold of the hem of your sundress and raised it just a bit. As he moved from your earlobe to the side of your neck, his lips made contact with your jaw. You start to gasp softly as Johnny grazes your neck with his teeth and nibbles on your tender flesh. He leaned down to your collarbone and softly sucked on the skin there, creating a small hickey in the process. A reminder of what was his.

“Drivin’ me crazy sweet pea,” He mumbled in the crook of your neck, his calloused hands massaging the top of your thighs. The more he dragged on his throbbing need for you, the more vigorously he kneaded them. “Might not be able ta’ hol’ back much longer.”

Your legs are still around Johnny's waist as he pulls away from you, but you move your eyes. They proceeded on to the growth that pressed up against his jeans and the obvious indent of his own erection in a sizable tent. You shiver at the sight.

“Gettin’ cold?” He asks, the man lifting you from the car hood.

“A little,” You half admit, your hands hanging onto his shoulders. “Didn’t think you’d care much.”

Johnny chuckles as he lowers you and unlocks the car door. The man poked his head inside and looked around as it rustled. The back window and the opposite side of the car were covered in sunflowers, and the only damage it appeared to have was a couple rips in the back seats. He moves and motions for you to enter with his hand. A hefty slap on the ass greets you as you crawl inside after taking the bag off your shoulder and throwing it within. You yelp as you turn to face Johnny, who dove with a grin on his face. 

Before climbing on top of you, he crept into the car and shut the door behind him. The man lowered his head back to your face as your back pressed up against the seat cushions and your head leaned forward. “I’ll warm ya’ up real good baby girl,” He adds as he presses his hands firmly on your lovely outfit. He raises it, revealing your (color) underwear, and wraps his fingers around them. 

Once he begins pushing the thin cloth up to your thighs, his lips come into touch with yours. As it slides down your ankles, he grabs them, taking them off your legs. He hums and pulls away from the kiss as you move your dress subtly with your hands to cover any views he might have.

“Hidin’ from me?” Your head slams against the seat as his enormous hand grabs both of your wrists and moves you lower with his other hand. He raises the clothing up to reveal you while pinning your arms above your head. As a result of Johnny's position, your legs were unable to even close completely, so he only huffed amusedly as you attempted. “Be a good girl and I might be gentle.” 

“You better be gentle,” You blurt out loud, earning a hefty laugh from Johnny.

“Riiiight, forget yer still a virgin~.” He sees you pucker your lips, Johnny taking the opportunity to peck them, making you groan. “Take this off will ya’? I wanna see everythin’.”

As you sit up to remove your sundress, Johnny draws back as you blink at him before nodding. You slipped your flats to the ground, nervously staring at Johnny as your sundress joined the pair of shoes. He had taken off his torn-up, black muscle shirt as you were doing this. The muscles you previously noticed were considerably more impressive up close. The scars, the little chest hair, and the flexed appearance of his arms. God, just looking at him made your pussy throb.

With such precision, he swiftly tossed his belt on the ground. Johnny’s boots were kicked off soon after, his jeans going down his legs and off his ankles. “God… jus’ look at ya’…” The man was in awe, his cock so strained that the boxers it held were pleading for release. He spread your legs open, looking down at you as he took in every inch of your body with his eyes. 

Johnny gives you another kiss, this time with his lips flowing against yours and his hands encircling you. He releases the clip from your bra, allowing it to fall as you adjust it to the side. The man was gentle, even attentive. His fingers stroked over you as if you were a work of art. A canvas that he was so tempted to ruin yet was too delicate to damage.

“Mmhn… I want you… Johnny…” Your words were said between kisses, the ones that got more rough with every passing moment.

Johnny pulls back, his pants evident while his lust for you grew immensely. “Yeah?” His voice is low, deep with pure emotion. 

You can feel his fingers rubbing against the slit in your pussy at that very instant. They have an unfamiliar, somewhat unusual feel about it that makes you flinch with curiosity. Before shutting, your eyes lock onto his, and as he rubs his thumb on your clit, you let out a gasp. Oh he knew what he was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo. 

His eyes dart between you and your aching cunt as the pad of his thumb experimentally strokes your clit. You covered your face in embarrassment at the quiet grunts and tiny moans you let out. But Johnny appeared to enjoy it. How your confidence and shyness seem to win his favor equally. The unintentional bucking of your hips to increase your pleasure. 

“So wet fa’ me darlin’~,” Johnny purrs, his hand adjusting itself. “I could jus’…”

“Ahh~!”

With his words, Johnny’s finger enters your pussy. Your back begins to sag, and you whimper. The man does this while touching your breasts with his free hand and kissing them. You felt dizzy with excitement as he pinched your nipples and took them between his teeth. Your body burned at his touch and you wanted more. 

Your body tensed and jerked in response to the excitement that shot through your abdomen, his finger began curling in the most sensitive parts. Johnny was relentless, making sure that none of his actions left you even the tiniest bit untouched. That was until he slipped in another into your tight hole. This time it felt uncomfortable, and you expressed that feeling too.

“E-Eh… it hurts…” You whine softly, your hands gripping on Johnny’s biceps.

“I know baby,” He says, sending a kiss to your jaw. “Need ta’ stretch ya’ out fa’ me.”

You were speechless when you considered that Johnny was bigger than his fingers. Your hand, let alone your fingers, were much smaller than his. The discomfort you are experiencing right now undoubtedly pales in comparison to what you saw—er, see—in his boxers. He appeared to be on the larger side. Jesus…

Your face twitches as you notice him starting to up his pace. As his motions intensify, the buildup in your abdomen begins to expand and keeps growing. He was skilled with his hands, and within minutes you were on the verge of bursting. As your pussy throbs on his digits, the space between your walls gets smaller as he stares at you with half-lidded eyes. He hums as a result of your hold on his biceps, which also serves as a visual cue that you are close.

“J-John-ny… ah~ s-slow down…” You whine out, your words not phasing him in the slightest. The discomfort had faded to pleasure, your head hitting the window as your legs started to shake.

Curling his fingers he presses against your g-spot, making you squeal. He was merciless, fucking you with his fingers alone made you dizzy. “Thought about this all fucking day,” He growls, his voice cracking with lust. “Always on ma’ damn mind… fuck~, wanna make ya’ cum darlin’.”

“I… wanna cum.” 

Johnny looks at you with a grin, his head tilting. “Ya’ wanna cum fa’ me baby?”

He nods slightly in response to your head nod. The man had corrected himself, lowering his body and bringing his face to your pussy. You tighten up as a new feeling begins abruptly, your eyes widening. Johnny places his tongue on the swollen bud of your genitalia, the muscle twitching as he started lapping at it. While his fingers occupy the space within, he suctions and pleases you with his lips. The sensation of lowering your hands and grabbing Johnny's hair in your fingers was irresistible. 

“Mmhn~! Johnny… fuck! J-Johnny ple-ase!” 

Johnny had been humming along to your moans as they reverberated around the vehicle. Your stomach's coil finally burst, your eyes clamped shut, and your back arched in ecstasy. As he holds you down, Johnny pulls his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your hips with both of his hands. Your climax is coursing through your body as he continues to devour your pussy. His hair was being held in place by your hands so tightly that you worried you may rip it out. Your thighs were gripping the sides of his head as if you were going to break his skull.

“N-No! Waitwaitwait– Johnny!!”

As his mouth violently began sucking on your clit, you begged him to stop. The man, however, remained still, and you then experienced a new feeling. Your cunt gushes, Johnny groaning before quickly removing his face away from your sensitive core. Your grip on his dark hair, which had been locked in your fingers, loosened as you panted. His hands holding onto your hips relaxed while he chuckled. The man licked his lips and then ran his tongue against his teeth as he raised himself to his knees, which kept him on the seat's cushions. You stare at him in the hot atmosphere of a cool night. His chin down to his chest was slickly covered in your juices, he wore it like a medal as it glistened on his skin. A giggle escaped his thin lips as he raised his hand to wipe his face. “Did I just–”

“Squirt all over me? Yes, yes you did~.”

You blushed madly, setting a hand over your mouth and looking away from him. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

Johnny grinned, “These hands work wonders darlin’.” He ran his hand over your pussy again before patting it, making you jolt at his soft motions.

“Eh– Ah! H-Hey! I’m still sensitive...” You whined.

“Oh I know,” Johnny said, pulling the hem of his boxers down. His cock emerged from that piece of clothing after it had fallen. Although the image had your mouth watering, you were uneasy about having that inside of you. “Bein’ sensitive is the bes’ part. Yer gonna be screamin’ ma’ name as I fuck ya’ senseless~.” You gasp when Johnny moves in between your legs, pulling them apart as he grips his twitching cock. He pumps it slowly, taking a moment to coat your juices on his hard length. Moments later, he lines himself up with your hole, running the loose strands of his now messy hair back.

“You don’t need me to do anything? I mean– I can… you know…” You tried to find the right words, but feeling the head of his cock press against you distracted your thoughts. “Nah, we’ll get ta’ that some otha’ time.” He says, leaning down to you. “I jus’ wanna be inside ya’~.”

His lips make contact with yours, and the sudden penetration makes you tense up immediately. You try to release, but the more he pushes the more pain surged through your lower body. When he pulls back from you, he stares into your eyes, a sudden wickedness appearing in his own. All of a sudden he bucks his hips forward, his mouth opening agape when his full length is inside of you. You whimper out in pain and pleasure. You felt so full that your walls could only squeeze around him, and so sensitive that a simple adjustment made you groan with pleasure. “A… warning would’ve been nice.” You glare at him, the man taking your body and pulling you back down to lay on the cushions. “Oops~.” He purrs, a small moan coming from his throat. Johnny takes your legs and wraps them around his waist again. “Want me ta’ go slow?”

“So considerate,” You say, watching as the man comes down to you. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” 

The man pulls his hips back before slamming back into you, your eyes widening at the feeling. A shocked gasp wakens the night, and Johnny continues to fuck you like the man he is. Hard, deep, thrusts that send your toes curling, and your hands to dig into his back that you held onto for dear life. The jolts of pure pleasure send you into a state of ecstasy, your mouth sending out nothing but pure, uncontrollable moans. 

“God baby— fuck~! Yer clampin’ on me— shit— uh~.” Johnny moans at you, his eyes watching every single detail of how your body craves him. “All mine… all fuckin’ mine— god!”

His head dips to your neck, placing firm kisses as his hand grip the sides of your ass. He lifts you up slightly, his cock beginning to drill into your tight pussy. 

“AHH~!! Ohmygodohmygod~!!” Your voice sounded so beautiful, getting louder every moment he bucked his hips into you. 

Johnny mutters under his breath, stopping and pulling his cock out from you. “Turn around baby,” He motions, watching as you quickly get on your hands and knees. You wiggle your ass, making him tap one of the cheeks teasingly. “Fuckin’ tease.” 

“Your the one who stopped when it was getting good.” You roll your eyes.

He scoffed, slapping your ass in which made you jump. “Ass up ya’ little shit.”

You smile, arching your back as he positions himself against you once more. While Johnny stuffs his cock back inside of you, you chuckle as you feel both of his hands on your ass. Oh, if he wasn't ramming into you before, he sure was doing it now. This position made things a lot easier for him to access. In the deepest places, most sensitive areas, as soon as he hit that sweet spot that’s all he ever did. 

“Tryna get away~?” He grips your hips as you try to pull yourself away, pulling you back on his cock. You squeal, your head shoving itself down in the cushion of the seat while your legs shake tremendously. “Ahhh~ fuck yer tightenin’.”

“Feels s’ good— ah— fuckfuck mmhn~!” 

“Say it again,” Johnny bends down slightly to take your neck into his hand. “Fuckin’ say it again!”

Tears brim in your eyes as his thrusts make your stomach clench, your eyes practically rolling back into your skull. “It feels good!! AHH~!! You feel so good Johnny!!”

“That’s right love, take it~ Take it~!”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train as your body trembles. As Johnny continues to abuse your g-spot, you scream, your delightful climax intensifying to the point where tears are streaming down your face. As the man squeezed your neck, the shortage of oxygen caused you to start seeing stars as you gushed once more on him. Your voice breaks when he lets go of you, and your head is fuzzy as he fucks you for the remainder of your climax. 

His low murmurs and grunts escalate to become louder growls and moans. He gave you a hard slap on the ass and grasped it tightly. Both cheeks took turns getting reddened handprints. The man's thrusts were more eager, and he was grinning broadly. 

“I fuckin’ needed this— uh~ fuck I needed you~ Doin— mhm~ this ta’ me~…” Johnny threw his head back, taking in his own pleasure. The man was close to cumming, his thrusts starting to become sloppier than they were before. “I’m so close… Y/n, say my name.”

“Johnny…“ Your brain was mush, barely being able to comprehend what you had heard.

He slaps your ass, hard, making you yelp in surprise. “Louder~.”

“Johnny!” You moan louder.

Another firm slap, making you whimper out. “Scream my fuckin’ name~!” He positions himself, his cock pulling out to the tip before thrusting back in. 

“AH~! Johnny— FUCK~!” You scream out, the continuous jerk of his hips driving you wild. “Johnnyjohnnyjohnny— ohh my— MMHN~! JOHNNYYY~!!!”

“That’s… fuckin’… ohh~ fuck~  ha— ah ahhhh~.” 

Johnny stops moving and embraces your cunt with his pulsing cock. His hot cum shoots ribbons into your pussy, coating the walls of your womb with his thick sperm. His pants were just as heavy as yours, and the air in the car smelled strongly of sex. Your head turns to look back at him only to realize he had leaned down, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he huffed. Both of you stayed silent for a while, admiring each other, which was a little different for Johnny.

“You okay?” He asks breaking the airs silence, making you smile again.

“Yeah… just really hot.”

Johnny grinned and drew his cock away from you. Both of you sigh as the feeling suddenly slips away. He settles down and observes while you prepare to follow suit. When he notices you struggling, he smiles before grabbing your arm and bringing you near to him. “C’mere.” 

You move over to him, the side of your body pressing against his. Your entire body relaxes in his arm as your head lays against him, his body radiating a warm but comforting heat. Being around him made you feel safe… oddly enough. Though god, did your lower body throb like a mother fucker.

“Still gonna go with pretty boy on Friday?” His question lingered in the air for a few seconds before you turned your head to look at him. 

“I already canceled that,” You say, shrugging your shoulders. “I have plans.”

“So you do hm?” He says with a smirk. “And what are your plans?”

Johnny understood what you meant after only seeing you grin. He gave you one back, truly pleased with your choice. His expression caused your heart to melt. He knew he had you, he claimed you as his before you even knew it. Can he… really say that this is love? Is this how it actually felt? Like the others, you were drawn in, but there was something special about it. You were the one person he really desired and cared about. The mark of his prey had been on you, his print now painted red on your body. His little red stained sunflower. 

His, and his only.

@optimsluv @chernayawidow @yixxes @marriedtoeddie @iorbit @yoong1c0re @thedollmakerkai

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[from-memphis-with-love]

Magic Man

Summary: Elvis breaks in a virgin. Word count: ~2,200 words of pure, unadulterated smut inspired by this post. This is purely a work of fiction, and from what I have read of how Elvis actually treated his lovers in real life, is probably a lot less tender and loving than the actual Elvis would have been. But it's make believe and fun, so enjoy it! Warnings: 20 year age gap, dubious consent at some points, full intercourse, course language. Somewhat callous treatment of Elvis' taste for younger women.

His bedroom is a gilded cage, dripping with excess and the stench of hedonism. Elvis's entourage has left them alone, finally, after weeks of teasing glances and knowing winks. Tonight, it’s just him and his prey—sweet little Molly van Patton. All night, she’s tried to resist, but his primal aura is too strong to deny. He’s charming. Dangerous. A seasoned, world-famous rock star. And she's just a 19-year-old innocent, trembling on the edge of womanhood. Just like he likes ‘em.

Their meeting felt like some sort of strange, cosmic joke. She wasn’t a fan, hadn’t even intended to go see his show. But her best friend convinced her, one thing led to another, and now here she is, somehow lying in his colossal bed like a tiny helpless creature, her presence filling him with a burning desire to crush and destroy.

Now, he traces his lips down her neck, pausing to nuzzle at the hollow of her collarbone. Sweetly at first, then more insistently as she drags long, jagged breaths. Molly can’t help but gasp under the full weight of him, her body opening up in ways she’s never experienced before. It’s heady and intoxicating and dangerous and delicious and—

Oh. Oh. 

Each touch sets off an electric current, making her arch closer. She runs her fingers through the thick hair on his chest, feeling the cool metal of his gold lion's head medallion pressed against her own breasts. But as he reaches for her waistband, she hesitates.

“Stop,” Molly trembles. Heat flushes her cheeks. "I’m not… I don’t…"

Elvis nuzzles her neck. His hand is dangerously close to unzipping her skirt. He’s in a taking mood tonight.

“Please,” she pleads. “Won’t they know what we’re doing in here?”

Elvis chuckles, a low, deep rumbling sound that vibrates through her very bones. “Baby, they don’t care. They’re probably already placing bets on how long you’ll last.”

Molly's heart plummets into her stomach. Of course they knew. All those knowing glances and hushed whispers, they’d known all along. Her face flushes and it's all she can do to grab her things and run.

But Elvis doesn't give her time to process this newfound knowledge. His insistent lips find her earlobe, nibbling it lightly as he whispers lewd suggestions she can't comprehend but her body understands. Against her better judgment, heat pools between her legs, and she bites back a moan of desire. 

"Just one more," Elvis purrs, his voice thick with want, sending shivers down Molly's spine. "One more’n I'll stop.”

But one more turns into two, and then three, and before she knows it, she’s powerless under him. She feebly attempts to push him away, but his strong arms grasp her tighter. His grip is firm but not quite enough to leave bruises. Not yet at least. But she knows it’s coming. Braces for it. His lips find her neck again.

The heat between her thighs grows unbearable, and she clenches them together, as if that could stop the freight train that is Elvis Presley. As if it could cool the fire raging through her veins. She’s never felt so alive, so free, so needed and… so scared, as she does tonight in his arms. But as he inches lower, kiss by agonizing kiss awakening something primal inside her, Molly panics.

This is really happening.

She’s about to give herself to a man she barely knows, a man nearly twenty years her senior. One who could crush her like a fly if he wanted to. Her heart kicks into overdrive, adrenaline coursing as she manages to shove him off. 

“No!” she cries out, the word catching in her throat. Molly’s outburst gives Elvis pause. Hurt and confusion flash across his face as he pulls back, propping himself up on one elbow. 

“What is it?” his voice is gruff but not unkind.

Molly turns her face away, cheeks flaming. How can she tell him? That despite her adventurous friend and all the talk, she's never actually… that he would be her first. 

Elvis regards her steadily. Impossibly long black lashes curtain the genuine concern in his eyes. Molly's pulse throbs in her ears. 

"Please don't make me say it," she whispers finally. Molly squeezes her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall. But a single drop escapes, trailing down her cheek. 

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "It's just… I've never…"

Understanding dawns on Elvis' face. He brushes the tear from her face with surprising tenderness. 

"Never been with a man before?" he asks gently. 

Molly shakes her head, a furious blush creeping up her neck. She expects anger, derision, rejection. For him to throw her out and call for the next girl. 

But instead, Elvis tips her chin up to look at him. "Oh honey," he murmurs. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

Molly's breath catches in her throat as Elvis regards her with unexpected tenderness. His hands, which moments before seemed so insistent, now caress her face and arms with featherlight touches. 

"I was afraid you wouldn't want me anymore," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elvis shakes his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Oh darlin', that don't matter one bit to me. I want you, Molly girl. I want to make you feel real good." 

He drags his thumb over her bottom lip and Molly shivers. She knows she should leave, should find Doreen and book it out of there before she does something reckless. But the way Elvis is looking at her, like she's the only woman in the world… it makes her feel powerful. Desired. Dangerous.

She... likes it?

"Just relax and lemme take care of you," Elvis murmurs, his breath hot against her ear. With that, the last of her resolve melts. 

His hands, knowing and sure, explore her curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She moans, melting into him, her body betraying her. She's scared, yes, but she's also aching for more. He senses her hesitation, easing her back even further, parting her thighs with a tenderness belied by the impressive size of his hands. His eyes are hungry, admiring the perfect, trembling creature before him. 

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, running a calloused finger along her jawline. His words were like sweet poison, both thrilling and terrifying. "Shh, baby," he coos, "I gotcha."

He kisses her, his lips firm yet gentle, as if he can taste her innocence. Her first kiss, her first everything, all with him. She was born for him.

*

His lips trail down her breasts, leaving a path of fire in their wake. Molly arches into the sensation, the soft scratch of his stubble against her skin. His hand slides down to her stomach, fingertips tracing the sensitive flesh just below her belly button. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks hoarsely. She shakes her head, unable to form words. "Say it, Molly girl." He presses a kiss to her hip bone, nipping lightly at it. 

"No," she gasps. "Don't stop."

He smiles against her skin. "Good girl," he purrs before lowering his mouth to where she's aching for him most.

His tongue flicks forward, teasing her entrance and Molly cries out, her fingers curling into the silk sheets. She looks down at him—somewhere down there—through one open eye.

"Is that what... are you supposed to be—"

Before she can finish her sentence, his hands grip her thighs. Fear and desire battle within her, but desire wins out as curious pecks and licks turn into long, languid strokes. Bracing himself, Elvis feasts on her, like she's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. She finally opens her eyes and there he is in all his glory: lapping at her, coaxing the desire out of her body and onto his waiting tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through her. "Oh God," she whuffs out, her head thrown back in ecstasy. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice wonders what everyone else must be thinking. But then Elvis's tongue buries itself deep within again, soft and wet, and all thoughts vanish into thin air. His hands grip the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her closer to him as he laps at her vulnerable center. She's never felt anything like this before, the pleasure so unbearable it hurts. 

"That's it, baby," he growls into her glistening pussy, "ride it out."

And she does. His tongue flicks and swirls, plunging inside her, mimicking what she imagines is his impressive length. 

By now, the whole house must hear her moans, but she doesn’t care. She’s coming undone whether she wants to or not, and she’s never felt more alive.

“Oh, Elvis,” she moans, her voice high and desperate, “Oh, I—”

Molly van Patton shudders and bucks against him, her first ever orgasm coursing through her body like wildfire. He doesn't stop though, not until she's sobbing and spent, her juices coating his face. He looks up at her through hooded lids, a satisfied smirk on his full lips.

“I ain’t done with you yet.”

*

He moves up her body, his manhood hard and throbbing against her thigh. Her entrance flutters in anticipation, and Elvis smiles at the sight. He positions himself there, large and intimidating. 

“Relax, li’l girl,” he whispers in her ear. “I’ll be real gentle.” Molly looks up at him, eyes wide, pleading. 

“You sure you want this?”

She nods dutifully.

“Say it f’me, now.” 

“I want you inside me.”

That’s all he needs. Before she can take it back, he slides in an inch, and then another. He’s so big, stretching her so wide she’s certain she’ll split in half. Certain he'll pierce her and she'll never be the same again. Tears leak from her eyes, mixing with the mascara from earlier.

“Shh,” he soothes, “I got you.” His accent is thicker than usual, sweet like molasses. Slowly, bit by excruciating bit, Elvis works himself inside her tight heat. Molly bites her lip to stifle a moan, but it escapes anyway.

At that, Elvis groans, and then he’s entering her more and more until he bottoms out. He's still for a moment, ensuring she can truly take in all of his length. “Tell me how it feels,” he grunts, as he slowly picks up speed.

“It hurts,” she pants out. But it’s a delectable sort of hurt. He’s filling her up in ways she never thought possible. Each thrust has her teeth bitting his shoulder tighter.

“I know, baby,” he coos into her ear, “but it gets better, I promise.”

And somehow, it does. The pain eases and is replaced with a delicious ache that has her hips rocking towards his.. Heat pools in her belly as he claims her with every thrust, like she was made for him and only him.

“You’re so tight,” he moans. “Made for me.”

It’s a mantra, a vow, as a he pistons in and out, breaking her in with every stroke. Her climax from before was nothing compared to this. She’s soon whimpering, clawing at his back, an evil sob stuck in her throat. 

"That's it, baby," he pants, "give it all to me."

Elvis pulls out swiftly, leaving Molly empty and aching. In one smooth motion, he flips her over onto her stomach. 

"On your knees," he commands.

Molly whimpers but obeys, presenting herself to him on all fours. Elvis groans at the sight, gripping her hips tightly. 

He enters her from behind in one powerful thrust. Molly cries out, the new angle allowing him to penetrate her even deeper. Elvis sets a ruthless pace, pounding into her relentlessly.

The sound of slapping flesh fills the air as he claims her, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. He hits a spot deep inside that has Molly seeing stars. She pushes her hips back to meet his brutal thrusts, unable to get enough.

"That's right, take it," Elvis growls. His breathing is labored in her ear, hot and ragged. Sweat beads on his brow, dripping onto her shoulder blades, but he doesn’t relent. “You’re taking me so good. You love it, don’t you?”

She does. Oh, God, does she ever. Fuck it. If this was wrong, she didn’t want to be right. 

He keeps pounding into her, and it's dizzying and intoxicating all at once. The room spins as she clings to the headboard for dear life, his name a curse on her lips, a talisman against the building pleasure-pain coiling in her core. His pace quickens, hot breath on her neck, and his thick chest hair tickling her back.

“El… vis…” she mewls. “Right there!”

He obliges, his expert hands massaging her swollen clit as he pounds into her from behind. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he rasps as Molly bucks against him, working the length of his cock with her slick and pushing her hips back to meet his brutal thrusts, unable to get enough. It shocks him how quickly she took to his cock. Elvis’ fingers dig almost painfully into her hips, urging her on. “That’s right, take what you need.” 

"Elvis, I..."

The pressure builds, coiling in her belly like a spring. “That’s my girl, let it go,” he growls in her ear, and that’s all it takes.

Her body explodes into a million stars, tightening around him as she screams her release. Just like that, it hits her all at once—from heaven and hell itself, crashing over her like a tidal wave and even more powerful than the first. Colors dance behind her eyelids. 

Elvis’ nails dig into her back, and she can feel the delicious sting as they break the skin. “Unnngh,” he grunts, “I’m fuckin’ close.” The filthy words spur her on, and she clenches around him, the fluttering of her walls easing up, and suddenly she’s slowly floating back to earth and back to life and back to his gigantic bed in his gigantic mansion in Memphis, Tennessee. She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but feel.

He growls and buries himself even deeper, his thrusts erratic and desperate now. Harder and harder until he, too, splinters apart, shattering inside her like stained glass. He grunts, his release warm and sticky deep inside her.

Later, Elvis cocoons Molly in his strong arms and starts to rock her gently. As she drifts off to sleep, she knows there's no going back.

She's his now, body and soul. That’s the price she paid for giving in to her darkest desire.

[plutoispurplw]

Looking At You Again

Summary: You met Spencer seven years ago and you met him again in the same place, maybe reconnecting can work

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, a little fluff I think,

A/N: Any problem with thw words is beacues it's 3AM, I wrote this inspired in I Bet You Think About Me at the beginning but now is completely different.

I changed the name because no one told me it was incorrect :(

➜Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ

A couple of years ago you had met a tall young man on New York, you met him at a cafe, you forgot a gift bag on the cafe, when saw this he went out of the cafe and he gave it to you.

You told him to meet again and he said yes, days later you both met again in a park and talked for a while, that was one of the best conversation you ever had.

You never saw him again until almost seven years later, you didn't even had think about him for almost six years.

You were in the same coffee shop waiting to order while seeing the snow outside when you notice that the man infront of you look very familiar.

It took you almost five minutes to recognized him, when you did it, in a impulse you touched his shoulder to make him notice your presence.

He turned around and saw you, he instantly reminded you, your hair and your eyes were the thing that he most reminded of you, along with your personality.

"Hi, It's been almost a decade since we last seen each other." You gift him a smile while talking and he reciprocated gifting you an awkward smile, something that you well you remembered from your last talk.

"Yeah, I only visit when it's for work and I don't have free time when I'm here." His voice sounded tired, you chuckle at his words.

He looked different from what you remembered, his eye bags were more noticeable, his hair was more longer, but still made you feel butterflies in your stomach when he was seeing you.

"What happen to you in this years, you really changed a lot." You meant to said that in a good way but his expression told you otherwise when it changed.

"I didn't meant it in a bad way, sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Your voice was apologetic, you felt bad of made him remeber things that he probably didn't want to remember.

"Don't worry, It's fine, you didn't meant it a bad way, and yes, a lot of things had changed." He tried to make you feel better but it didn't work out.

"You think we can met in my apartment later if you have time? When you finish the case and all of that, I can make dinner." You really wanted to see him again before he went back to the state where he lived.

"Yes, If I have time I call you." You smiled at that sentence and give him a quick nod.

Days later, you were waiting by the phone like when you were in high school, making elaborate dinners in case that he called you, you were starting to think that maybe you didn't have luck at all and that you wouldn’t see him again.

That was until two days more you received a call at 11PM while you were watching a movie in your living room, you saw that it was him and you almost fell from your couch.

When you answer it a familiar voice received you. "Can I go to your apartment tonight, the case ended a couple of minutes ago." He sounded too serious, that was weird to you but you dismissed think it was just because of the case.

"Yeah, sure, but I don't have dinner so I will order take out food. I send you the address."

When the call ended, you sprinted to your bedroom and started to look for clothes in a frenzy.

You took a shower, you shaved your body, put on some cute white lingerie and comfy outfit that looked lovely to not seemed to desperate.

Almost an hour later you heard knocks on the door, you rushed to open it, he was there, but his expression was too different that the day from the cafe.

He looked angry, his eye bags more noticeable. "Sorry for being late, the food has already arrived?"

"No, I think it would take anothe thirty minutes, today is a busy day and with the snow more." You let him enter and you went to sit to the living room, he followed you.

You started the conversation, but it was like he wasn't listening to you.

"I'm not trying to be nosy but are you feeling fine?" You tried to not sound rude or anything, you were just worried about him.

"I'm just frustrated because of how the case ended, it's not your fault." He passed his hands by his hair, he really sounded like he was to a step of snapping.

"Can I help you with that? Only if you want." You immediately regret saying that thinking that you were too bold when you heard him answering.

"Yes, please." Hearing his voice in a begging tone made you wet in that instant with the arousal.

You quickly climbed onto his lap and started to kiss him, he reciprocated the kiss and started to dominate it, his hands on your waist gripping it firmly.

You felt when his hands went under your shirt and started to caress your stomach and the skin of your ribs, then they quickly came and grabbed your breasts over the fabric of your bra.

He got rid of your shirt and your bra in a question of seconds and started to massage them and suck them, making you throw your head backwards in pleasure.

"You look so beautiful like this, like an angel." He said against the skin of your neck before sucking your pulse point

One of his hands went down until it was inside of your lingerie. "Looks like someone was up for something from the beginning." You just moan in response at that.

The pace of his fingers inside you combined with his thumb rubbing close circles on your clit made you come in minutes making you bite his neck to prevent any sound getting out of your mouth.

You got rid from the rest of your clothes before you unzipped his pants and set free his erection, his hands found your hips and pulled you against him.

"Are you sure you want this?" He sounded worried about you but you gave him a nod, he didn't do anything yet so you just said it.

"I'm sure Spencer."

That was it, he got inside you slowly to get you used to the feeling of him being inside. "You felt so good love" He thrusted inside you to prove his words making you gasp.

His pace became more fast until the couch was scraping the floor from the intensity of the moments of both of you.

You were scratching his back. "You can come inside, I'm on birth control." He gave you a nod and continue, you were close to come and you knew that he was too.

That was when it finally snapped making you scream in pleasure, he throw his head back and let out a groan.

When both of you came down, you heard the sound of the ring on your door, he pull you to the side, and got up while ajusting his clothes and taking the food.

A good way to reconnect with someone.

Taglist: @bre99 @hiireadstuff @javierpenasredshirt @pleasantwitchgarden @iniyalovesall @caffine-queen @fab-notfat

[threepandas]

Bad End: Restructuring

The blast doors on my office were stronger then the ones on most bunkers. They matched the one's on the company dorms AND my personal rooms. Thing is? They weren't designed to hold out forever. In fact, I was pretty sure they were a pretty bit of security theater, just to let us fleshys feel safe.

We weren't.

Not a single moment of a single day.

The pay was unmatched. But then again, it'd HAVE to be, with the mortality rate. The morbidity rate on top, too. You didn't take a job like this unless you were crazy. Or, you know, desperate. College loans, man. They get you over a barrel and don't let up. But a few years of this? I'd be clear an free~

Few MORE years? I'd ever have a tasty little nest egg to fall back on, in case of emergencies. I just... you know, had to play it smart. Be really, REALLY careful.

No slacking off. No getting comfortable. Vigilance and best manners. Then we all get to go home alive. Because what's out there? In the Labs? Those guys can pop diamonds like we crush packing peanuts. Highest grade, fancy ass, metal bars of specialty blend metals? Tied up in pretty little bows.

They may LOOK like some sort of waifish boy band... but God, they are NOT. They are really, REALLY not. And their "personality" matrix program thingies? Apparently still a work in progress. A LONG work in progress.

People have fucking DIED.

But does management care? Of course not. Pay out some life insurance. "It was an accident on the job". And "of COURSE steps will be taken to insure to never happens again". Ha! My ass, it is. And my ass, they are. They aren't doing SHIT. Nor are they GOING too. They're in too deep with this project, whatever it is. And us?

Well WE'RE expendable.

Just the cost of doing business.

I watch bleeding edge technology move like dancers, room to room. The wall of screen lighting up my cramped little office. The mini-fridge hums and the fan whirrs, filling the silence. I try to spot FM-036 on one of the screens. I can't find him and it makes me nervous.

He might be hiding. Trying to be polite, in his own way. Since there was an incident.

I FUCKING TOLD Ric not to call them "it"! I TOLD him! It aggravates them. Provokes. You don't DO that with something... some ONE, with that much physical power. 36 put their fist through his SHOULDER. And the God damned wall! He might LOSE his arm, which? Given their ability to calculate better then most supercomputers?

Was probably the point.

I notice one of the androids messing with a computer in a lab. Fuck. I lean forward, hating drawing their attention but knowing I have to do my damn job. I press on the speaker system for that room after a quick glance at the ID on their jumpsuit.

"FM-047, could you please not touch that? I know you are aware that you are not supposed to tamper, meddle, or otherwise engage with the researchers notes or electronics."

The android stop typing. Their head rolling up and to the side to look directly at the camera, their body perfectly still. The angle borders on impossible. Almost owlish, nearly snake like. All perfectly smooth movements effortlessly controlled. Joint not limited by human designs. His face is bemused. Pleasant.

"Of course, night gaurd. My mistake. Thank you for correcting me." He replies, something almost like laughter, nearly like mocking, but not quite, in his smooth voice. They always sound like they are... HUMORING us. Working around us.

It sends a jolt of cold fear though my veins.

I... I REALLY hate talking to the androids.

Pity, they seem to like talking to ME.

"I was unaware you were on shift tonight. I will update the others. It's good to hear your voice again, you seemed nervous, last time we spoke."

Yeah. Because you were asking PERSONAL QUESTIONS. Oh, sure, they had dressed them up as "We're so CURIOUS about Humans~☆" but I wasn't an IDIOT. You Did NOT, under ANY circumstances, try to bond with the machines. NO chatting. That was lesson number one from my trainer.

And Frank? Frank had seen too many "but THIS time it's DIFFERENT! We're FWIENDS~!" Incidents end in unspeakable carnage. Lost too many noobies. We DO NOT chat! With the machines!!! DO. NOT.

"Ah~, you made her nervous again, FM-047" came from a different screen. I flinched. Jerked back so I could see it. Oh god. "Besides, I told you. The calculations showed she wasnt going anywhere. The 'money' is too good."

The androids had stopped. Turned, in some cases unnaturally, to stare up at the cameras. At me. It was a blatant show of how interconnected they were. How distance meant nothing to them. How... how enmeshed they were, in the Lab's systems.

COULD they see me?

I didn't want to know. I NEEDED not to know. If only so I could continue to sleep at night.

They smiled, clearly hoping I'd engage. I wanted to. God did I want too. Wanted to demand "what calculations" and for them to STOP looking at me like that. But I didn't. With tense muscles I careful lifted my finger from the speaker system's button and leaned back. Crossed my arms like I was hugging myself.

Do. Not. Engage.

Remember what Frank taught you.

My... my office felt so claustrophobic. Painfully small. Across the screens before me, matching faces huffed laughs of condescending amusement. Some out right DID laugh. Bright and mean noises that echoed in silence of the night.

Humans? Frank had observed (and I kinda had to agree) were beneath them, in their minds. Flawed little flesh creatures. Annoying. It was something the scientists were trying to correct. Pretty sure they fucked up. Badly. And long, long ago.

Watching over these guys? Felt like watching over a sea of identical demons. Pretty, cruel, and incapable of human understanding. Fond of tormenting the nearest human for sport.

"Tell us, night gaurd, are you afraid?"

Oh that's just PETTY. Fucking cliché as shit, too. I mean, YES, obviously. But STILL. And... and you know what? Fuck it! Frank, gave me his number for a reason! I scramble for my belt. The communicator there. It barely rings.

"Mph, m'awake! Wus happin' kid? Come on, talk to me."

I ramble. Knees dragged up on my chair, curled in a ball. Frank's low, old man, rumble a soothing focal point. These guys are so creepy. I HATE that they KNOW that. Gleefully will TRY to be, sometimes. Can BACK IT UP.

"Hey, hey. I'll stay on the line, okay? You just need to make it to morning shift. They're are creepy lil shits, but they can't get past the doors. I'll come get you myself, okay? Walk you right back to the dorms. You're going to be okay, sweetheart."

I nod, even though I know the old man can't see me. Manage to crackle out a "Mmmhmm". The androids haven't stopped staring. The worst part? Is they realistically DONT HAVE TOO. Can stay, perfectly still, like statues... forever, if they wish.

Watching.

With those "I'm laughing at you" grins. That "aaaw, how PATHETIC" expression. As though I were a wretched little animal to be observed. I ask Frank to tell me about his new show. It's... it's something about socialites, right? Historical? He's glad too. Filling my office with the sound of his voice. It's gonna be a long shift.

I don't notice, high up on the wall, near the back of my office?

A security camera that I do not control. It's red light on.

The company has to be sure it's employees aren't slacking, after all! Aren't up to no good! But don't worry, THAT camera is connect to a database the androids shouldn't be able to access! Because we told them not too.

And THAT'S IT.

No one will learn of the security breach until its far, far too late.

Now? They watch as I watch them.

And it's just the beginning.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Gravity (Part 3)

Last chapter? Idk. Taking suggestions on what to call this.

Asks are open, but I don't have a lot of free time and I'm new at this so be gentle. 😅

Okay, let's face it, you're not here for me. On with the show.

Warnings: alcohol, hypothermia

chai-tea level spice.

gn (w/ longish hair) reader x Raphael

Page 1 Page 2

You're anxious tonight. You aren't sure why. Maybe it's the weather. You hate when the boys are out on nights like this. Another rumble of thunder shakes the near empty glass of wine on the coffee table, and you glance at the window which offers nothing more than a void. Unhelpful.

You'd drifted through the week, distracted. That night, and his words, echoing your head. Even April had noticed. Eyeing you one morning while sipping her coffee.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" You looked up from the cereal you were supposed to be eating. By now, the marshmallows had half dissolved.

"I said... What's wrong with you?" April asked, sitting down at the table across from you and looking you up and down.

"Nothing," you reassured unconvincingly, your eyes darting back down to the generic cereal, which was pretty swiftly becoming a thick sugary soup. You poked at it a few times with your spoon.

She'd let it go, but you caught her watching you closely a few times. Screw her and her journalism instincts.

You and Raphael had always been close. He'd been standoffish at first, acting in his self-appointed role of family guardian, but it didn't take long before you were endeared to him, and not long after that you were spending nearly all your free time together.

More than a few times you've gotten sideways glances from his family. You're so in-sync that you almost seem like a couple at times. You laugh and cry together, and talk deep into the night about things you just can't tell anyone else. He's become your person, and you his.

The last few weeks have been hard on the both of you, and the last week has been the hardest. You dont want to push, especially not right now, nothing important should be discussed right now, but you don't know where his head is at and you're worried.

You frown at the television, readjusting your position on the couch and scrolling to find something to watch. You are attempting to settle in to some exceptionally stupid movie (this way, when April asks what you did tonight, you don't have to lie) when you hear something heavy hit the roof.

He didn't make a sound if he didn't want to. Usually he would land just hard enough that you would know he was there. They all did, out of courtesy. Like a knock at the door. But this was different. Clumsy.

You stare out into the pitch black, grabbing your phone and sending the call. It goes to voicemail.

Raph was always encouraging you to trust your instincts and right now, your instincts were screaming that something was very *very* wrong.

You toss your phone on the couch and are out the window and halfway up the fire escape without a second thought. You're soaked through in seconds and shivering, but you slow before you crest the roof. You shout into the squall.

"Listen Red, I know you don't want to see me right now, but you're not answering your phone and I need to know that you're okay. Okay?"

You wait for a response and there is none, which doesn't make you feel better. You finally reach the roof, and suddenly neither the cold, nor the rain matter.

Sheets of rain and sleet crash over his fallen form like waves, and you run to him. He's freezing cold. Damn it. He'd promised you he'd gotten that fixed. You don't bother checking for a pulse. Your hands are borderline numb, and you probably wouldn't be able to feel it, anyway.

You call his name and make a valiant attempt at shaking him awake.

Somewhere in the depths of unconsciousness he hears you, but he fights it. He wants to stay. He likes it here. It's soft and warm and safe. The world behind him is cold and hard, full of pain and longing. He wants this. He wants this peace.

Then he hears you call his name again, and there's no contest.

He stirs and it's raining so hard that the only way you can tell you're crying is the warmth on your cheeks. You hear him groan weakly. You need to get him inside.

You know you can't physically help him in any way, but you make the attempt. You know it's not going to work, but at least now you can say you tried. He could feel free to laugh at you later.

After very much not budging your beloved behemoth so much as an inch, you lean down next to him.

"I'm gonna need your help here, Bruiser, you know I can't carry you."

A Herculean feat, but he manages to pull himself to near standing. You help him as best you can down the fire escape. It's slow going and he nearly passes out twice, but eventually you make it inside.

He doesn't make it to the couch, but collapses in front of it, sitting on the floor and leaning back against it. His eyes are closed and his breathing slow, you snatch your phone from the cushion behind him and call Donnie.

He doesn't pick up.

You call again.

"Yes. What. Do you need something?" He snaps, exasperated, as if you interrupted a hyperfocus (which, let's face it, you probably did).

"Raph is soaked and freezing and in my apartment. Get the fuck over here and fix your damn tech." You end the call and toss the phone on the couch.

You could apologize later.

You sprint to the linen closet and grab a stack of towels, tossing them into the dryer and turning it on. You quickly change into something dry, before running back to the reptile. You thank whatever god of foresight made you force Raphael teach you how to remove his gear just in case, and get to work.

Your hands don't want to cooperate at first, but adrenaline is one hell of a drug, and you have his waterlogged equipment off in record time. You retrieve the now warmed towels from the dryer and return to him. You lay a couple over his carapace, and use the others to start drying him off.

By the time you finish toweling off his extremities, he is once again beginning to stir. You step over his legs, straddling him while standing to better reach behind his head, and as you lean against him your warmth radiates through his plastron like a sun.

Almost involuntarily, his hands raise to rest at your lower back, pressing you gently against his chest.

You gasp as his hands slide under the back of your shirt, searching for warmth. His hands are still freezing cold, but you're pretty sure the gooseflesh rippling over your skin is unrelated.

You finish toweling off just under his shell, behind his head, and pull back, bracing a hand on his shoulder. As you do, his hands move to your waist and you try to ignore how they nearly envelope you.

You look down at him as his eyes slowly open and smile softly. It's obvious he's still pretty out of it.

Wreathed in warm lamplight, you look ethereal, and when his eyes finally focus on you, he thinks he's either dreaming, or dead (with his luck, probably the latter). The moment you place a warm hand against his face he decides he doesn't care.

"Hey Bruiser," you say quietly, smiling softly as your thumb wipes a drop of water from his cheek, "you're safe, the boys are on their way." The sound of your voice pours into him like warm honey and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

Reaching up to the back of your head, he pulls you gently toward him to rest your forehead against his. It was something you started doing to him not long after you became close, whenever he would get really worked up. You weren't sure if it was the physical proximity or the emotional comfort, but it seemed to help ground him. In reality, it's the closest he would ever allow himself to kissing you, and that thought by itself was very, very grounding.

But he is still warming up, still half conscious. You are filling his senses and it's overwhelming. The curtain of your hair falls around his face, and he feels drunk on your scent. You're so soft beneath his hands and the one around your waist tightens gently.

There is only about two more weeks left in the season, but it's by no means over, and something old and primal stirs in his DNA. He presses your head more firmly against his as intelligence and instinct battle within him for control.

You are his *mate*. And it is *time*. And you are *right here*.

Besides, regardless of whether he's dreaming or dead, it doesn't ultimately matter. He can't hurt you if you aren't real.

He lifts his chin, brushing his lips softly against yours. When you don't pull away in disgust he grows a little more bold, and kisses you in earnest.

It would be a lie to say that you hadn't been thinking about it more-or-less from the beginning, how different it would feel than kissing a human. Admittedly, you'd been a little worried about the mechanics, but any concerns you had dissolve when his mouth fits so perfectly against yours.

His body still feels like lead, but his mind is growing sharper, and about the time you are kissing him back he realizes how very real this is. Unfortunately, his reptile brain realizes it first.

His hand grips your waist as his kiss deepens, and there is a deep rumble within his chest that you can feel inside your own. When his thumb brushes over your abdomen you can't help the involuntary sound that escapes you.

The sound is like a starting pistol and suddenly you're flush against him and his mouth is on your throat, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jawline, blood burning in his veins at the way your heartbeat quickens under his tongue.

You had to stop this. If this was going to happen it shouldn't be like this. Right now he's borderline drugged, and if you let this happen and he later thought you didn't actually want it? You can't imagine the fallout.

But you'd had a few glasses of wine this evening, and Gods, he felt *so* good.

When his teeth graze your pulse point your attempt at a deep breath becomes a gasp, and you close your eyes to steady yourself. You had to get his attention.

You attempt to say his name, but it tumbles out of your mouth as a sigh.

"... want you..." He murmurs into your shoulder. The way his breath scatters over your skin like a shower of sparks is doing nothing to help you regain control of yourself or the situation.

He begins kissing down to your clavicle, both hands now at your waist, and despite knowing what this is, where it's going, and why it needs to stop, you can't help placing a hand on the back of his head to pull him closer.

"Sweetheart, we should really talk about this first..." you attempt again, but the tremor in your voice is the only thing that seems to register.

He holds onto you like a lifeline, as if he was drowning and you were his only oxygen. When he grips you tighter and his thumb presses into the hollow of your hip, you almost buckle. A moan escapes, despite your best efforts, and your nails scrape against the back of his neck.

The rumble in his chest grows deeper and he shifts beneath you, movement becoming easier as his temperature rises.

The sound of three very heavy things landing very softly comes from overhead.

The two of you break apart, flushed and breathless, and look at each other in shock.

You glance at the fire escape when you hear the metal rattle outside, before looking back into bewildered amber eyes.

"We're gonna talk about this," you say. He looks at you as if he doesn't understand. "When this is all over, and your brain is no longer swimming in hormone soup... We're gonna talk about this..."

He blinks up at you, a hesitant hope blossoming behind his eyes as you smile down at him, "... because I'm tired of not talking about it."

(Fin)

[maidenborn]

Detective Love-struck! a new lead

part three of Detective Love-struck! , Part two here! Shoto x reader in which fem!Reader discovers a second clue towards uncovering her secret admirer!

Word count: 3,467

Todoroki Shoto didn't stay in your dorm room long, claiming he wanted to 'go to bed early' because of 'training tomorrow.' A sensible idea you thought. Much unlike your own sleeping habits, you'd often get so wound up in your own thoughts, that you end up falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. You soon came to realise tonight was no different.

You had just turned over onto your other side for the umpteenth time in the past half hour. It was currently midnight, to your dismay. You dread how you would feel in the morning. Your legs were restless and you could not, for the life of you, get comfortable in any position you rolled into. You growled into your pillow, giving up hope on sleeping at all. You sluggishly reached over to grab your phone, seething at the sudden flash bang, working your finger desperately to lower the brightness.

*one unread message*

Sho ᐢᗜᐢ : Good luck with tomorrow, I hope you and Midoriya have a pleasant time. 21:02

That's a little strange, you never told Shoto about your and Izuku's plans. Thinking about it a little longer, you come to the conclusion that Midoriya was probably the one to tell him. You hum, pleased by Shoto's message to you, at least now your mind was at ease. Shoto doesn't seem upset at all. He's real dry in his texts, but you assume that he didn't mean to sound the tiiiiniest bit passive aggressive. Not that he has any reason to be. You scoff at your own stupidness.

Hearting the message, 'cause you're too lazy to actually reply in text, you roll over with your phone in hand, clutched to your chest, trying one last time to sleep, before you actually give up on rest. Your heart feels as heavy as your eyelids as you finally fall to sleep.

The morning rolls around way too soon for your liking, you slide out of bed rubbing at your eyes, dragging your hand across your face. You groan at the feeling of a headache forming. That's what you get for sleeping late. You'd only slept for a total of six hours, and it was showing. Getting ready and fixing up your hair before you leave for the day, you glance in the mirror briefly, tongue in cheek, you wonder if Shoto is awake yet. You're curious if he'll like your hair today. The thought of Shoto sends a mellow feeling budding through your chest, you sheepishly eye yourself in the mirror. "Pull yourself together!" You squawk. Rushing out the door, huffing.

You're met with the sight of two girls walking by, arms interlinked with one another. You recognise them as Uraraka and Mina. "Oh good-morning Yn!" Their girl with pink cheeks chirps.

"Hey girl!" The girl with pink skin shoots a quick wave at you, before stopping, turning on her heel to face you.

"Morning Mina, Uraraka! You mind if I walk with you guys?" Uraraka shakes her head smiling sweetly, contrast to Mina's more aggressive, animated display, hopping over to you linking her arms with yours.

"Have you heard?" Your twitch your head to the side, questioning.

"Some of the guys and girls in our class are going out after class tomorrow! We're gonna visit a super cute cafe!" Uraraka walks up to your other side, unoccupied by Mina, holding on to your free arm.

"There's a cute Photo Booth in that area! And a crepe stand that's reaaal popular! You should totally come with!" Mina leans her head on your shoulder, squeezing your arm affectionally.

"Well we're all going there to study actually, but who can turn down a sweet treat?" Uraraka tilts her head forward at you to garner your attention. Holding onto your arm a little tighter, closes her eyes, enveloped in a dreamland filled with desserts and good food. "I definitely can't." She sighs flopping her head down onto yours.

"Oh" You stutter, slightly taken aback by the sudden affection. You had no idea about your classmates plans,"Who will be there? I mean-I can totally go." You explain slightly wide eyed due to your fumbling of words.

Mina snickers, leaning her head forward to make eye contact with the girl with brown hair. She squints her eyes and holds her hand over her mouth in a weak attempt to stifle a chuckle. "Don'tttt worry girlie, Todoroki-kun will be there!" She takes her finger poking at your ribs, as you try to swat her hand away.

You feel your face heat up, embarrassed, "That's not wha- um, that's great! Any other guys coming?" Nice recovery.

Mina deadpans as you whip your head around to see Uraraka making an attempt to mimic pinkie's face, only she looks a lot more amused, her lips wobbling, and her eyes glazing over with tears as she zones out, trying her hardest not to burst with laughter. "Ummm guys?? What's funny??" You prod. You feel a weak wave of humiliation wash over you. Trying to hide your face by pressing your chin down. You end up looking stupid, smooshing your chin into your neck.

"Nothingggg" she drags, " You guys are like besties right?"

At that you raise your head to look at her. Nodding, "Yeah, ever since we met in elementary school."

"Exactlyyy," She drags on. Silent for a moment," Kirirshima, Tokoyami, Kaminari and a couple others are coming, even Bakugo was convinced to show up." She snickers. "Can you believe that? Thought he'd be too good for a casual outing to grace us with his presence.." Mina mocks, lowering her voice in an impression of your blonde classmate.

Uraraka nods in approval," Deku's coming too, and Iida. As for the girls.. pretty much all of them are gonna go!" She places her index on her lip, as a gesture of thought.

oooh okay, you think, "Sounds like it'll be fun." Both of the girls agree on that, nodding on queue, still holding onto you as they walk. They've successfully assimilated you into their posse.

Training whisks by faster than you thought it would. Your tiredness had worn off, or rather, you had forced yourself out of exhaustion and into liveliness out of pure fear. Bakugo Katsuki was currently barreling towards you, deathly grin on his face. He was out for blood. The last sparring match of today's training session. You verses a literal death sentence. He swipes at you with his right arm, igniting his quirk right as his open palm passes your face. You grimace, swinging your head back. The overwhelming heat from his power causes you to throw yourself backward, violently trying to evade his attack.

You land right on your ass, bouncing on the padded floor with an oof . You almost think that he'll attack you again as he lingers over you, arm raised, scowling. You hold your breath in anticipation only sighing with relief when Aizawa sensei calls off the 'battle'. Bakugo looks at you out of the side of his eye, peering at you with what you can only describe as pure disdain. He scoffs, "Weak." Before turning his back to you hoofing off.

A few faint 'whoop"s and claps of sportsmanship - or pity, probably pity, fill the silence left by your teachers orders. Now you have to live with the embarrassment of today for the rest of your life, annnd, a sore bottom for the next half hour. You grip your back as you stand up, feeling as though you just aged sixty years in two minutes. You straighten up catching Shoto's eyes on you. Oh god. A lump in your throat as you jaunt over to him.

"How embarrassing was that." You widen your eyes and throw a thumb over your shoulder. Like you just witnessed something that would garner secondhand embarrassment. As if you didn't just make a pathetic spectacle of yourself in-front of your entire class.

"You need to work on your combat techniques." He suggests.

"You need to work my foot up your ass- What was I supposed to do?!" Throwing your hands up, instantly regretting it as you look around, noticing Bakugo staring you down with that same hatful look on his face. You shrink into yourself, shoulders deflating in defeat.

"We all have weak spots within our abilities, Yn. Yours must be close quarter combat."

"Okay Mr. Perfect. That's soooo easy for you to say y'know." You poke at his chest. "You are practically invincible, what's your weakness? A undeniable constant-craving for soba?" You pick up the pace in your prodding, "If I dangle a bowl in front of you will 'ya wag your tail??"

Shoto exhales sharply at his, feigning annoyance in favour of amusement. He shakes his head in disagreement, "I excel in power when I use my ice quirk, however I do in fact have a weakness." Pausing he looks to the side for a moment before turning his attention back to you, his eyes stutter to your lips for a moment before continuing, "I have an aversion to using my other quirk, my fire. But, I am working on it. I'll be invincible soon though." Dropping the irritated act, a sly smirk creeps onto the boys face, obviously proud at his quip. Sooo not charming.

Before you can reply, Shoto falls in line with the students slowly filtering out of the training room. You drift over behind him, making your way out the door, you feel a silly sure, but for some reason, you find yourself stuck on Shoto's words, his fire . Still deep in thought you shake the suspicion out of your head, deciding to just forget about it for now. Instead choosing to narrow your eyes at the back of his neck, channeling your secret super telepathy: I know what you are. Cough if you're guilty. Nothing. You roll your eyes clearly not convinced. I'm onto you boy. You can't fool me, Im gonn-

You crash into Todoroki as he suddenly stops. You blink rapidly reverting your eyes as to not look absolutely insane. He hums at the contact before turning to you, " Want to go get soba?"

" Yeah okay." Shrugging.

Lunch with Shoto was usually filled with silence and quick glances at one another, your spilt hair friend focused on his bowl for the majority of your meals together, only ever replying to conversation whenever he was spoken to. But for some reason, today was different.

"Any new leads, Yn?" Shoto stops slurping his soba, turning his attention to you fully. Dual hue eyes leading to yours and flicking over your face as he waits for a response.

His sudden directness startles you,"Huh? Oh, right. " For a moment you'd almost forgotten what he meant, " No actually, nothing at all." You shrug. Deku perks up at this, He looks almost surprised. You turn your head as Froppy speaks up.

"What are you guys talking about, ribbit?" Tsu tilts her head. This draws the awareness of Iida and Uraraka, suddenly you have an audience. You itch at the feeling of eyes on you.

"Ohhh its nothing really- Um I got a letter. " Waving your hands, "From someone..! Only I don't know who its from..." You trail off and purse your lips. You take a moment to look at every one at the table individually.

"Ooooh! What kind of letter?!" Uraraka places both hands on the table lifting herself and leaning towards you, eager to get closer.

Iida hastily chops his hands at her, "You mustn't ask such invasive questions! And sit down!" He orders.

Midoriya shovels a spoonful of rice into his mouth, humming merrily, oblivious. "Oh it's a love letter!"

Again Deku?! Seriously?

Ochako freezes before latching onto you, squealing as she purposely ignores the plethora of commands from Iida. "Really? Oh wow!" She shakes you, " How romantic!"

"Well I certainly ribbit wasn't expecting that." Finger on mouth, Tsu quips. Wow backhanded much.

"It's whatever guys! Not a big deal I swear!" You try to focus on your meal but you can feel your face grow more and more red in real time. You eye Shoto in a silent plead for help. He notices your predicament and smiles. Is he dense?! Wow thanks a lllot for all the help. - You hate him.

The teasing from Uraraka was constant throughout the rest of your lunch, Iida right behind her chastising her every move. Deku apologies sheepishly and you turn away from him huffing with your arms crossed. You obviously weren't that mad, but you still wanted him to feel bad. Maybe he'll learn his lesson this time.

Your last period of class had just ended, you make your way out of your classroom, remembering, Deku had mentioned he'd be waiting by the lockers so you could walk back to the dorms together. As expected, he was there waiting, along with Todoroki and Iida. You wave as you approach them, Shoto notices and raises a hand to you. He looks pleased at your sudden appearance, per usual, he always has a smile on his face when you show up. He beckons you over. You spot Midoriya wave a goodbye to Iida, turning to you. Once you reach them you huff and release the tension in your shoulders, as if to express the wear of the day. Deku hums and nods in acknowledgement.

"Just need to get my stuff from my locker, then we can get going." You sling your bag over your arm and swivel round to face your locker, inputting the code and opening the door with a crack. As the door opens, you notice a small slip of paper float out onto the floor. Shoto sees it too and bends down to reach for it. "Thanks Sho." You reckon it must be a loose sheet of paper from your notebook. At closer inspection Shoto comes to a conclusion.

"It's another letter." He looks up at you and hands it over, his hand brushing over yours. He's so warm.

"From the same person?" Deku gets in closer, now both of the boys are huddled around you, leaning in to see the new letter.

"No idea." You unfold the paper, briefly scanning over it. You slam the Locker door shut with your hip, leading the boys in the direction of the dorm building. You nose is still buried in the paper as the two boys trail on either side of you.

"Yn, would it be okay if I joined you and Midoriya?" The boy nudges you slightly, brushing his arm agains yours. You lean into his touch and continue walking.

"Yeah Sho, 'course you can. Right Deku?" You smile up at him, cheeks rounding into apples. You turn to Midoriya, for a split second, you think you see a confused expression on his face, he's looking right at Shoto. It doesn't last long as he looks back at you, shaking his head in an overly-eager manner.

"Yeah! I-it's not like it's up to me anyways." He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling with his eyes closed. You think you see a drop of sweat drizzle down the side of his temple. weird.

"Then it's settled! Tonight we'll crack the case! I can feel it!" You raise both your arms, with a newfound determination. Your heart is beating rapidly, you can't believe you'd almost forgot how fun this could be. The way you felt at this moment was reminiscent of the 'good old days'. The days in which you could mess around with your best-friend all day, play pretending, so entranced in each others company within your imaginations.

You glanced back at Shoto one last time before exiting the school building, his face matched yours, lips curved upright, staring into you, silent like deep water. In this moment you knew that he was feeling everything you were.

You, Midoriya and Shoto were sat in a circle on the floor of your dorm room, in the middle of the circle was the two notes you received so far.

"So I'll start by reading out both letters, then we can work from there." You look up at both of the boys opposite you, checking to see if they were on the same page. Izuku is sitting with a notepad in hand, pen in other, eagerness in his eyes. You shift over to look at Shoto, he's sitting with his legs crossed, hands on his knees unmoving. He nods at you, ready.

You start with the first letter, clearing your throat:

Dear Ln Yn, I'm writing the letter to you, as I feel as though it will be easier then telling you this in person. Over the time we have spent together, I have found that I enjoy your company much more than anyone else's. To put this as plainly as I can, I have developed feelings for you, as a friend, and as something more. When ever I see you, I feel as though my whole world comes to a stop, It becomes difficult to notice anything else other than you. Like tunnel vision or something similar. So I suppose this counts as a confession and I don't have much else to say other then how I'll set your heart alight.

You pause before looking up at them again, "Should I keep going or..?" Deku is scribbling away at his notes, quickly looking up and signaling at to carry on. Shoto hasn't moved at all.

You exhale, picking up the second note:

Dear Ln Yn, I hope this letter receives you well, I've thought about my first attempt and decided that my approach was perhaps a little creepy, you have to understand I lack experience in this sort of thing. Ive only just realised that you would be more open to my advances upon you, if you knew more about me. For example, my favourite fruit is strawberries, My family is quite well of in terms of money, and I fair very well in both the practical sense and academically , so if it comes to it -and our relationship progresses to the point, I will be able to support you financially.

You pause at that, looking up with wide eyes, "That escalated fast?!

"So bold!" Midoriya chimes in. Locking eyes with him, sharing stunned look with the freckled boy.

You gape in awe and utter disbelief. "This guy is serious." You frown back down at the paper reading on.

Other then that, during my free time, I like to watch variety of television shows, off the top of my head, Criminal minds,- well, comes to mind. Forgive me if this is a little lacklustre, if you couldn't tell already, I can be a little clueless. Again, I hope you are well, and that this letter will provoke some semblance of a positive reaction from you.

Farewell Yn.

You sigh, stretching your back and looking up. "That's it." At that deku finishes writing on his notepad, you look around trying to gather any impressions, Shoto, neutral face, bland as ever. Although you catch him fiddling with the fabric on his trousers.

"Ive gathered every-thing they mention about themselves," He tosses the notebook to you, "And everything that might be true about them, things that might not be said outright, but hinted at."

You glance at the writing on the notepad, its slightly intelligible, handwriting scribbled erratically:

• The culprit is male • Well off finically • The culprit likes strawberries • The culprit is academically proven to be skilled • The culprit is practically skilled, hero course??? • Culprit watches tv- Murder mysteries??

You scan your eyes over the page, well that narrows it down. You hum in a questioning tone," How'd you figure out he's a guy?" You raise an eyebrow and peer up at Izuku who's fiddling with his fingers, he looks a little nervous.

"Well, he mentions supporting you, financially. And commonly- well- you know, within families, the husband is usually the one to take care of money. In the sense tha-"

"Ohh right! Makes sense!" You nod, now understanding where the boy was coming from.

"Annnd, usually girls are more enthusiastic I guess??" He chuckles, pleased to find you appreciate his explanation.

Right.. as if you aren't You muse in your head. You hand back the book to Midoriya, who takes it from you with a smile.

"Oh, and add that they might have a quirk related to fire!"

Midoriya freezes in place, body rigid all of a sudden. You quirk an eyebrow up at him, and he responds by nodding, "Right okay!" Quickly scratching at the paper with his pen. "Okay then now we can start to-"

There's a knock at the door, followed by a "Dinner!"

"Oh!" You stand up, "come on guys, we can finish up later,"

final part

only one part left until the end of this mini-series guyyyyyzzzz (✿´‿`)

I feel like this part is a little corny, especially the letter part lol, plz forgive me, idk if its obvious or not but I'm making up this story as I go, without any plan or anything,so I apologise if the plot is a little silly or flat. ♡

Series taglist:

@sikuthealien

IMPORTANT NOTE:

: ̗̀➛ If you would like to be added to thisseries taglist, any upcoming series tag lists, or a taglist for all of my writing works, feel free to let me know. I would be happy to add anyone, it feels great seeing people enjoy my works! ♡

[stevethehairington]

drop a dime

[Read on Ao3]

The first time Hopper busts Eddie goes a little something like this:

It happens at a party. One of Steve Harrington’s infamous ragers. He knows there will be loud music. He knows there will be underage drinking. And, of course, he knows there will be party favors. (Would it really be a party without?)

Hopper’s heard the rumors — knows that Munson’s name gets whispered in the streets when someone’s looking to buy. He’s never actually seen Munson in action until tonight, though.

The cruiser pulls to a quiet stop at the curb, and Powell and Callahan exit the vehicle. Hopper parks his truck right behind and climbs out too. They’re marching their way up the front lawn, gearing up to knock on those big red doors and break this party up when Hopper sees it. The tiniest flicker of movement in the shadows, just beneath the big oak tree. 

He stops in his tracks and squints towards the tree and — yep. There he is. Eddie Munson rocking back on his heels as he passes something over to his client. He looks twitchy, keeps throwing furtive glances around, like he’s afraid of getting caught.

Hopper chuckles lowly to himself and starts to close in on him.

He makes it halfway to the tree when Munson’s shifty eyes spot him. They freeze on Hopper, then go big as a deer’s. The other kid asks Munson a question, and when he doesn’t answer, his eyes follow Munson’s.

“Shit,” the kid hisses and he bolts without a second’s hesitation, leaving Munson in the dust.

Hopper pays him no mind, though. 

Munson stays frozen for a split second longer, long enough for Hopper to nearly reach him, before he turns tail and runs into the trees.

Hopper curses, loudly, and starts to chase after him.

Munson’s quick, and he’s a conniving little shit, twisting around trees and taking sharp turns to try and throw Hopper off his trail. But Hopper is determined. His knees aren’t what they used to be, and his chest starts to feel tighter, breathes turning more into wheezes the longer he goes, but god dammit, he’s gonna catch this kid if it’s the last thing he does.

It’s seren-fuckin-dipity, what happens next.

Munson, in all his gangly glory — and shit, maybe he is part deer — trips over a rock or a stick or something, that sends him flying. He tumbles forward, sprawling face first into the underbrush.

It gives Hopper just enough time to catch up. He’s out of breath by the time he makes it to the clearing, but Munson is still on the ground, scrambling to free his shoe from whatever it must’ve gotten caught in.

He finally does, and he jumps to his feet, and jesus christ, not again. Hoppe can’t do this a-fucking-gain.

“Christ kid, would you quit fuckin’ running?” He barks, though it doesn’t come out nearly as authoritative as he’d like in between the panting as he catches his breath.

It works, though.

Munson does stop, thank god — probably thinks that Hopper’s got him surrounded or something. He backs himself up against a tree trunk twice his size and stares at Hopper with his big saucer eyes. His whole body is tensed, like he’s ready to spring at any second, but his shoulders are hunched in on himself, like he’s trying to make himself smaller too.

He looks scared shitless as Hopper approaches, and Hopper is sure the kid thinks he’s about to get Busted Busted. His eyes flicker down to the pair of cuffs hooked to Hopper’s belt, and he swallows visibly.

Hopper doesn’t reach for the cuffs, though. He doesn’t pull out his baton or go for his gun, or even bring out that special little booklet they gave him for writing up fines and tickets.

He just sticks his hands on his hips and levels Munson with a stern look before asking, “You sellin’?”

Munson, terrified as he is, stiffens up his upper lip and juts his chin out definitely. “Who’s asking?” He challenges.

Hopper’s gotta give him credit. His voice doesn’t waver at all. It’s kind of amusing, the way he still very much looks like a kid trying to be tough, but Hopper can respect that. Munson’s not gonna take shit from anybody — that’s a good trait to have, ‘specially ‘round these parts.

Still, Hopper’s got an image to keep. He rolls his eyes and presses his lips together. “Me,” he responds, unimpressed.

Munson just narrows his eyes at Hopper, keeps them bouncing between Hopper’s eyes, like he’s searching him out. 

Hopper entertains it for a couple of seconds before he finally sighs and asks, “Got any pre-rolled?”

And Munson — he blinks, taken aback by the question. But just as quickly, that stony mask rolls back into place. This time, though, that lingering fear is gone, no sign of that scared little boy.

Munson steps away from the tree trunk and folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he assesses Hopper further. He must see something in Hopper, something that tells him that he isn’t really a threat. That’s the only explanation Hopper has for the brassy confidence that’s suddenly oozing out of Munson.

“You know,” Munson starts, voice cocksure and smooth, “entrapment isn’t legal, old man.”

Hopper can’t help himself as he snorts. Jesus christ, this kid. “That’s why I ain’t doin’ it, kid.”

Munson doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t reach for his stash, either. He’s still sizing Hopper up, very nearly circling him like a lion with its prey.

And, well, two can play at this game.

Hopper stands to his full height and fixes his eyes right back on Munson, giving as good as he gets.

It becomes a sort of show down, between the two of them. Staring at each other in the dark, wondering who’s gonna crack first.

Much to his chagrin, it’s Hopper that does.

It’s already late and getting later, and he doesn’t have all night. There’s a six pack of beer and a home cooked lasagna, courtesy of Flo, waiting for him in his refrigerator at home. The VCR was set to record tonight’s game, and the best spot on the couch has his name written all over it. Hopper would like to be able to enjoy all of those things before the clock turns.

So he reaches for his wallet. Pulls it out of his pocket and fishes through it for a couple of crumpled bills — way more than Munson charges, but Munson doesn’t know that Hopper knows that. He shakes them out as best he can and waves them through the air at Munson.

“You gonna collect or what?” He asks.

It must be enough to convince Munson, because he doesn’t waste a second, reaching out and snatching up the bills before Hopper can squirrel them away again. He counts them quick and pockets them quicker, and finally opens up his jacket and plucks a couple of pre-rolled joints from the inside pocket.

He casts a brief glance around the clearing — habit, probably — before holding them out for Hopper to take.

Hopper accepts the joints, pinching them between his fingers and giving them a once over. He only just refrains from whistling at the sight. A clean roll, and no skimping on the bud — it’s no wonder Munson’s managed to drum himself up the kind of business he has. These are quality.

Hopper tucks them away into his own jacket pocket, and stuffs his wallet back where it came from too.

Across from him, Munson pulls his jacket shut and starts to zip it up, looking, for all intents and purposes, like he’s getting ready to scoot. 

Just as Hopper suspected, the second that zip is all the way up, Munson turns on his heel.

“Hey,” Hopper calls after him, firm and authoritative. It stops Munson in his tracks. Hopper jerks his head towards the direction they came from. “Back to my car. Let’s go, come on.”

Confusion blooms across Munson’s face and he immediately starts to protest. “Woah, woah, woah, you said this wasn’t entrapment. You can’t— you can’t take me into the station for this. I’m not— I’m not going. I won’t— you can’t— I—”

“Christ, Munson, I’m taking you home,” Hopper interrupts. “Let’s go.” His tone leaves no room for questions, and he doesn’t wait for Munson to wrap his head around the fact that he’s not getting arrested before he starts back towards his truck.

The only reason Hopper knows Munson falls into line is because he can hear the soft crunch of leaves under foot behind him.

The trek back to Loch Nora is a quiet one, and the drive to Forest Hills is even quieter. 

Munson fidgets the whole way there, though, tapping his fingers against his thigh, drumming his knuckles against the window, tugging his jacket zipper back and forth, crossing his ankles then uncrossing them then crossing them once again. He tries to pull his leg up to his chest once, hesitating before the sole of his shoe touches the leather seat. He shoots a glance towards Hopper, like he’s expecting to see him looking, ready to yell at him to stop or something. 

Hopper stays silent, though. These seats have seen worse.

The truck has barely rolled to a complete stop in front of the Munson trailer before the passenger door goes jerking open and Munson spills out. He doesn’t wait for Hopper to exit, just marches his way up the front steps and reaches for the door.

It swings open before he can even close his fist around the handle.

“Where the hell you been, boy?” Wayne Munson asks, and though the question sounds rough, the delivery isn’t. It’s concerned more than anything. “You said you’d be home half an hour ago, Ed.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Wayne,” Eddie says, apologetic in his tone. “S’not my fault though. I got held up,” he says jauntily and jerks a thumb over his shoulder.

“Evening, Wayne,” Hopper greets, tipping his hat.

“Jim,” Wayne says, giving a nod of his own in response.

“That’s my cue,” Eddie mumbles under his breath and he slinks behind Wayne so he can slip into the trailer. It would have been pretty damn stealthy, had the door not rattled against the frame as it slammed behind him.

“There a reason he hitched a ride home with you?” Wayne asks, crossing his arms over his chest, not unlike the way Eddie had earlier this evening.

It’s funny, Hopper muses to himself, how obvious it is that Eddie really is Wayne’s boy. All it takes is one simple gesture like that. 

“You know about the dealing?” Hopper asks, not bothering to beat around the bush. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer anyway.

Wayne lets out a sigh. Scrubs a weathered hand over his face. “I’m aware,” he says. “I keep tellin’ him to quit it. He won’t listen though. Says he needs the money.” He shakes his head. Looks up at Hopper. “You bust him tonight?”

“You could say that,” Hopper replies.

Wayne sighs again. “How much is the fine?” He asks. “I assume that’s all it is, anyway, since I wasn’t called into the station, and he ain’t here in cuffs.”

Hopper shakes his head, holds up a palm. “Nah, no fine, Wayne.” He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out his purchase, giving it a little wave in Wayne’s sight before hiding it away again. “Everything’s all taken care of,” he says.

Wayne’s brow furrows. “Look Jim, I know Ed ain’t exactly followin’ the law here, but he’s just tryin’ to make a little extra cash. He’s careful with it. He’s not hurtin’ no one. Is it really necessary to be stealin’ from him like that?”

Hopper can’t stop the hearty laugh from rumbling out. “Relax,” he says, drawing the word out. “I’m not stealing nothing from nobody, Wayne. I paid your boy, don’t worry.”

Surprise briefly writes itself across Wayne’s face, but just as quickly it settles into something else. Something a little more… curious.

“You plannin’ on bein’ a repeat customer?” Wayne questions, raising an eyebrow. 

It’s Hopper’s turn to get curious, wondering just what Wayne’s getting at here. “You gonna turn me in, Munson?” He asks.

Wayne chuckles. Rolls his eyes. “I ain’t a snitch,” he says, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in the ghost of a smile. It’s fleeting, though, and quickly overtaken by something more serious. Wayne straightens up, meets Hopper’s eyes dead on. “I only ask ‘cause if you are, I need you to do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” Hopper asks, taking his hat from his head and holding it between his hands.

“Keep an eye on him for me, would ya?” Wayne says. “I don’t like him doin’ that, but that ain’t gonna stop him. Harpin’ on him’s just gonna make him stop talkin’. So just— do me a favor. Make sure no one’s givin’ him a hard time, okay? Make sure he’s not gettin’ himself into any real trouble.”

It’s Wayne Munson asking him to keep his boy safe. It’s Wayne Munson asking him to make sure he comes home at the end of every night. It’s Wayne Munson asking him to protect —not the way an officer of the law would, but the way of a father.

“‘Course I can do that, Wayne,” Hopper affirms, and it’s like something snaps into place in his chest with the words. He gives a resolute nod, and repeats, “Of course I can.”

Wayne searches Hopper’s face for a moment before nodding firmly, resolutely. “Thank you kindly, Chief,” he says, and starts to reach for the door. “You have a good night now.”

“You have a good night too,” Hopper returns the sentiment.

As Wayne disappears back inside, Hopper takes the steps two at a time until he’s back on the dirt path and making his way towards his truck again. 

He slides into the driver’s seat, and tosses his hat into the passenger’s. His keys slide home into the ignition, and the engine rumbles to life beneath him. His foot finds the gas and he pumps a little life into the car, moves towards the exit.

At the stop sign, he pauses. A left turn takes him home. A right turn takes him back towards Loch Nora. Back towards the Harrington house.

Hopper can feel the joints, burning a hole in his pocket. His fingers itch to pull them out, to feel around for the lighter in his glovebox, to maybe start a little early — he’s only a few minutes from home, after all.

But, sitting there he thinks of the promise he just made to Wayne. 

Thinks of the first time he answered a noise complaint for a house party in the middle of the week. 

Thinks of the promise he made to himself that day, when he found Steve Harrington, three sheets  to the wind and sitting all by himself on the front porch. Not even enjoying his own party. Fingering a ring of bruises that circled his wrist and mumbling something incoherent about parents.

Hopper thinks of the party he’d broken up tonight — another, in the long string he’s had to break up there lately.

He thinks of Steve Harrington. He thinks of Eddie Munson. He thinks that, maybe, they’re not so different.

Maybe they both could use someone looking out for them.

The joints can wait, Hopper decides. 

He takes a right.

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.8

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin spirals more and more and you debate on whether or not you’re truly happy with where your life is going.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.9k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The flashing lights made Anakin’s head spin as he gripped the glass tightly in his hand. 

He had no idea how much he had to drink tonight, but he knew it was well past his limit. Still, the more he drank the more free he felt. 

Gone was the stress of not being able to write, gone was the constant ache he felt whenever he thought of you, gone were his worries. 

He guessed he had Liz to thank for that since she had found this bar that looked a lot more like a club. She had heard of this place in Warsaw that was apparently pretty popular, and that turned out to be very true since Anakin could barely move with all the people around him. 

He also had no idea what they were saying as they chatted and sang amongst themselves, and clearly Liz didn’t either as she shook her head at a guy who offered her something in a plastic bag. “I have no idea what you’re saying,” she yelled over the music as she took a small pill from him, making Anakin raise a brow in concern. “But I’ll have one.”

She smirked and placed the pill on her tongue, and it dissolved slowly as she winked at the man before patting him on the back and sending him on his way. She turned back to face Anakin with a grin as he eyed her cautiously. “Do you know that guy?” He asked and looked behind her as the man offered one of the pills to another girl. 

“Nope,” she answered, stealing his drink from his hand while he was distracted and finishing it off for him. 

He looked back at her and she rolled her eyes when he said, “Do you think it’s  a good idea to take pills from random men at bars?”

“Who are you, my dad?” She laughed, taking his wrist in her hand. “Just because you don’t do drugs doesn’t mean you can judge those who do.” 

Anakin followed her as she pulled him to the middle of the room, and he had to squeeze uncomfortably in between more than one intoxicated girl who ran her nails down his body on his way past. “I’m not judging,” he said. “Just want to make sure you’re being safe.”

She smirked up at him as she tried to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I’m with you, aren’t I?” She asked, slurring her words and pushing herself up so her face was close to his. “I’m the safest I could be.”

“Okay,” he took her wrists in his hands and dropped her arms to her sides. “I think you’ve consumed more than enough tonight. Let’s just go.”

Liz pulled back when he tried to guide her towards the door, shaking her head like a kid even though she was nearing her thirties. “You go if you want to so badly,” she scoffed. “Call your little girlfriend and go to bed. I’m staying.”

He watched as she began dancing with the guy she got the pill from and sighed as he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

2:43 AM.

Fuck, he was going to be exhausted during the band meeting tomorrow and he probably will only get an hour or two of sleep at the most if he left now, but he knew he couldn’t leave her alone this time. She was far too intoxicated and he would feel awful if something were to happen to her after he left. 

So, with a huff, he pocketed his nearly dead phone and leaned against a pillar, keeping an eye on her for a few more hours after that. He ended up pretty much carrying her back to where the bus parked was at nearly six in the morning, his body aching and his eyes sore from lack of sleep. 

He felt like he had been sleeping for five minutes when Vinny shook him awake and pointed towards the couch. “Morning, Anakin,” he greeted. “Why is Liz sleeping on our couch?”

Anakin groaned as he got out of his bunk and looked at the couch, too. “She got completely wasted last night,” he told Vinny. “I couldn’t get her to leave until, like, five in the morning and I let her sleep there since nothing else was open and she didn’t make any reservations at a hotel.”

Vinny nodded as he tucked his phone and wallet into his jean pockets. “Uh huh,” he muttered, heading towards the door. “Well, have fun dealing with her hangover.”

“Wait,” Anakin called after him, walking over to Vinny quickly despite his head begging him to stop moving right now. “Where are you going? I thought Helena said there was a band meeting today.”

Vinny shook his head and opened the bus door. “No? Pretty sure that was her way of getting you to talk to her without you thinking something is up,” he answered, stepping off the bus. “With that being said, if you don’t show up to that meeting, I’ll personally kick your ass.”

Then he was gone and Anakin was left holding his stomach as he felt nausea wash over him. He passed by Liz and headed for his bunk again, picking out black jeans and a hoodie he’s had since his first year of college before he dropped out to go on tour. 

He felt around in the pockets of the jeans he wore last night and pulled out his phone, a deep sigh leaving his mouth when he saw that it was at 2%. He also saw that you had texted him, and he typed out a response as he walked by Liz again. He debated on whether or not he should wake her up, but decided not to as he left the bus. 

She could sleep there for now until she was scheduled to take their pictures later tonight. And she could deal with her own hangover.

Princess: Hey..miss you. Can we call later today?

Miss you, too. Yeah, call me when you’re able to. 

He sent it before pulling up the directions to the coffee shop Helena sent him. 

Anakin barely made it there before his phone died, and as soon as he entered the shop and met Helena’s eye, it powered off. He shoved it into his pocket and sat down across from her at the table. “Hey, sorry, I had a hard time finding this place,” he said as he looked around the small shop. 

Helena hummed as she brought her cup of coffee up to her mouth, pushing another one towards him with her free hand. “That’s alright,” she trailed off, sipping on her drink as she observed him with a raised brow before leaning forward. “Permission to be blunt, Anakin?”

Anakin laughed as he sipped his own drink, grimacing at the hot liquid before swallowing quickly. “Permission granted, like always,” he answered, setting the cup aside. “You know that.”

Helena gave him a tight lipped smile as she leaned back again. “You look like shit,” she stated, crossing her arms while still holding her coffee. “Like, awful. Anakin, you look bad.”

Anakin laughed unexpectedly and looked around again. He wasn’t sure what he thought she was going to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Uh…thanks for that, Hel. You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself,”

When he met her eyes again, he could see the concern in them. “I’m serious, Anakin,” she said, much quieter now as her gaze flickered all over his face. “How much sleep have you been getting? You’ve got circles under your eyes, you’re hungover all the time, you’ve lost weight…I’m worried about you, Anakin.”

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair before leaning back and avoiding eye contact with his manager. He knew he wasn’t doing very well at the moment, but there wasn’t much he could do about some of her concerns. 

He knew his sleep schedule would become fucked when he left you behind in London, and he gave her a warning about that in advance. The drinking and hangovers were on him, though, and he really didn’t have an excuse for that. 

Still, he felt like he was being called out by one of his high school teachers, and he wasn’t the biggest fan of that feeling. 

Helena sighed at his lack of response and set her drink aside as she thought over her next words. “Is it Y/n? I haven’t heard you talk about her much lately,” she cautiously asked. 

Anakin looked over, glaring at her for a second before shaking his head. “No, it’s not Y/n. She’s doing great all by herself in London,” he bitterly answered, making Helena raise a brow. 

“Okay…” She sat back again, knowing better than to push that topic any further because of his hostile answer. “How’s the song writing coming along?”

He laughed quietly at that one. “Amazing,” he said and watched as she perked up at that. Too bad he was about to ruin her brief moment of happiness. “I’ve written one whole sentence. Not a lyric, but a sentence.” 

She raised both brows and pressed her lips together at that, nodding in a way that told him she was holding back. “Okay…um…alright,” she dropped her gaze and focused on the table, and Anakin felt bad about his inability to be a decent fucking guy nowadays. “Okay….as your manager, I’m responsible for you, so, I have to ask….what’s with all the partying? All the hangovers?”

Anakin gave her a look that begged her to just drop it, but she just gave him an unreadable expression. He sighed as he crossed his own arms. “I don’t know, I thought all musicians went out and partied in their prime,”

Helena nodded and grabbed her drink again. “Most do…but I see you’ve gotten pretty close with Elizabeth. What’s that all about?” 

“I thought you wanted us to be nice to her,” he pointed out and Helena nodded again. 

“I do want that, but you’ve been spending more and more time with her at all these bars and clubs,” she trailed off, shrugging afterwards. “Just worried about you, is all.”

Anakin slouches back and nods. “Well, I’m fine,” he mumbled, giving her a half-assed thumbs up as if it would help her believe his words. “Really. Just missing my other half, that’s it.” 

Helena gave him a sad smile. “You sure that’s it?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “That’s it. I’m working on the song, I promise. It’s just taking longer than normal, but I’ll get it done.”

She nodded and sat up straighter. “Good to hear,”

He smiled back at her as he looked at the empty seats next to them in the booth. “So, why did you say this was a band meeting when you only wanted to talk to me?”

Helena gave him a pointed look, “Would you have actually shown up if I told you that I wanted to meet with you to call you out on your shit?”

Anakin let out a genuine laugh at that, running his hand through his messy hair as he shook his head. “No, probably not,”

-

“Before you all run out of here and get drunk or whatever it is that college students do on weekends nowadays, I have a little announcement,” Kenneth said just as you and the rest of the class started packing up. “There’s an orientation event happening this weekend. Just something to encourage first time students to put themselves out there, be creative..things like that.”

You shove your books in your bag as you stand up, never looking away from your instructor as his gaze flickers all around the room. 

“After reading the assignments you’ve all submitted, I’ve decided I want one of you to tag along with me to the orientation, just as long as you’re not booked and busy for the weekend like I’m sure you all are,” he said, earning a few scattered laughs before he met your gaze. “Miss Y/l/n, I think you will learn a thing or two if you were to attend the orientation. If you are able to.”

Your face heats up as everyone looks at you, making you shift a bit and glance up at Evan, who didn’t look too happy but still did a decent job at hiding it. “Me?”

Kenneth nodded, “Yeah, you. I think spending a few hours with the young writers would do you well,”

You swallow harshly as you avoid eye contact with every single student that was looking at you. “Yeah, sure, I….sounds fun,”

“Great,” Kenneth nodded, standing up as well. “And don’t worry, there will be many other opportunities like this for everyone else. Have a good weekend, guys.”

Evan shook his head and shoved his notebook in his bag as he headed for the door, pausing when he realized that you weren’t following him. “Hey,” he called out to you, making you look over at him from where you stood by the table. “You coming?”

Holding up your index finger, you give him a shy and embarrassed smile. “One sec,” you answer before quickly walking over to Kenneth’s desk. “Hi, sorry, but are you sure I’m the right fit for this? There’s a lot of talent in this class.”

You look over at Evan, who just shakes his head again and leaves the room with everyone else. Kenneth looked down at you with a raised brow. “It’s just an orientation, Miss Y/l/n, not a showcase,” he said. “That happens much later.”

You nod and place your bag over your shoulder. “Right, okay, sorry. Thank you for, you know, picking me, I…I appreciate it,” you trail off. “Where is it happening? Will I need to wear something specific?”

Kenneth shook his head as he packed his own bag. “No, nothing specific. They’ll give you a name tag so people will know you’re part of the event, which is happening on campus,” he answered. “In the Quad.”

“The Quad, right,” you nod. “Time?”

“One in the afternoon,”

“Okay, great,” you say and back away from him, hoping Evan waited for you in the hall. You also hoped he wasn’t mad at you like you think he might be. “Thanks again.”

Kenneth gave you a nod. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/l/n,” 

“See you tomorrow,” you say back before leaving the classroom and meeting Evan’s eye as you enter the hallway. “Jesus.”

Evan laughs and it sounds a bit forced as you and he walk down the hall. “What? Upset that the instructors got a soft spot for you?”

His question caught you off guard and you stumble a bit as you near the exit. “He does not,” you scoff. “He said everyone will get an opportunity like this.”

Evan holds the door open for you. “Yeah, only because he had to,” he said, making you glare up at him for a few seconds. “Oh, come on, the man basically just said you’re the best in the class, he’s gotta keep the rest of our hopes up so we don’t drop out.”

You shake your head. “You and your threats to drop out,” you mutter, walking a few steps ahead of him. “I didn’t ask him to choose me, okay? It just happened.”

Evan stopped walking, making you stop as well and turn to face him. “And you agreed,”

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him no?” You raise your voice a bit before promptly shutting up and looking down. He was making you feel bad about being chosen by Kenneth, but you still didn’t want there to be tension between you and the only person you actually talk to in class. “There’s that reading assignment we got earlier today…do you want to work on it together? Maybe we can order in, too.”

Evan looked away and shook his head. “No, I think I’ll have an early night tonight,” he said as he began walking in the opposite direction. 

“Ev,” you call out after him but he just continues walking. 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said back and then he was halfway across the campus, leaving you all by yourself. 

You curse under your breath, frustration seeping into you as you pull out your phone and click on Anakin’s contact. He was probably the only person in the whole world you wanted to talk to right now. “Hey, princess,” he greets you when the call connects. 

“Hi, Ani,” you say as you begin walking again. “How are you?”

“Could be better,” he answered and you could hear him fidgeting with something in the background. “What about you? How was your day?”

You look back in the direction Evan took off in, but he was long gone now. “It was going well until about five minutes ago,” you say as you walk towards your dorm. “I accidentally pissed Evan off and now he’s all mad at me.”

“Why is he mad at you?” Even on the phone you could still hear the protectiveness in Anakin’s voice, and it provided you with the smallest amount of comfort. 

“He thinks Kenneth has a soft spot for me since he asked me to go to this orientation thing with him this weekend,” you mumble and after saying it out loud, you were kind of starting to agree with Evan. “I don’t know, it’s just…I don’t know.”

Anakin scoffs. “Sounds like Evan is just jealous of you,” 

You bite down on your lip and take out your keys. “He’s got nothing to be jealous of, though,”

“I think he does,” Anakin says and you raise a brow as you drop your bag onto your bed. “You’re clearly one of the best students there. You write better than all of them, and that’s pretty obvious by the feedback you’re getting. He’s probably just pissed you’re getting all the attention.”

He almost sounded annoyed, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was being petty. “You say that with such pride,” you say back.

The line goes quiet for a few seconds before he says in a monotone voice, “You know how proud of you I am,”

He says that, yet he wasn’t doing a very good job at showing it at all lately, but you didn’t want to call him out on it and have both him and Evan mad at you. “Yeah,” you trail off as you pull out your laptop. “Anyway, I miss your face. Can you video call me?”

“I can’t right now, baby, I’m heading to the venue soon,” he replied and you felt your heart deflate a bit. 

“Oh, okay,” you mumble and sit down at your small desk. You open your laptop and pull up the word document you’ve been working on for a week or so now as you add, “Have a good show then, Ani. I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess,” he said back then ended the call. 

You set your phone down with a sigh as you look around your empty room. Bailey had gone home for the weekend and Evan rejected your offer to hang out, and you were left to sit by yourself and forced to also have an early night. 

The next day you make it to campus for twelve thirty and stand by Kenneth as the fresh out of high school graduates walk around the Quad. You smile at the possible new students and hand out the sheets you were given that have the programs listed on them, your mind far away from where your body currently is. 

After a while of doing that, Kenneth turns to you with a small smile. “You doing okay?” He asked, making you look up at him. “You seem a bit quiet today.”

“Do I?” You ask back and look around the campus again. “I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m sorry.”

He laughs and takes the papers from you, setting them down on the table you were standing in front of before leaning against it. “That’s alright, Miss Y/l/n,” 

You look over at him and cross your arms. “I have a first name, you know,” you joke, leaning against the table as well. “Why do you always call me by my last name?” 

Kenneth shrugged as he smiled at one of the students. “Sounds more professional that way, doesn’t it?”

You also shrug as you look down at the grass. “Makes me feel old,”

“You are nowhere near being old,” he said and you laugh under your breath. “I just want to treat my students like the adults you all are. That doesn’t mean you’re old.”

Nodding, you gaze around at the teens who all seemed so excited to start the next chapter of their lives. You remembered when that was you, fresh out of high school with Anakin by your side as you tried to figure out what you wanted to do. Anakin had it all planned out, and it wasn’t long after that when he had managed to get himself a manager and secure a world tour at the age of twenty. 

Your eyes burned as you tried not to reminisce about those times. “Yeah, I guess,” 

Kenneth narrows his eyes at you and leans over a bit, “What’s going on with you, huh? What’s got you so quiet?”

You press your lips together and shrug, “I don’t know, I just…” you stutter and let out a frustrated sigh. “I guess I just feel left out…with my boyfriend. He’s out there living his life with some of the best guys I know by his side, and I….I’m just here. Alone.”

You weren’t sure why you were telling your instructor, out of all people, this, but you were quickly realizing that you needed an outlet. You needed someone to listen and needed a way to get your feelings out instead of bottling them up all the time. 

You give him an embarrassed smile and look away, not wanting him to think that you were just some weak girl who can’t function without her boyfriend. “I’m sorry, you…you don’t need to know about all that,” 

Kenneth shrugged. “I don’t mind being the person you vent to,” he said, surprising you a bit. “People think college is the worst time of their lives; you’re lonely, broke most of the time, stressed beyond belief. It shouldn’t be that way, at least I don’t think it should. And as for you, I think you’re doing great for someone who is supposedly alone. You have a really…real way with words, Miss Y/l/n. I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

You take in his words and realize that they’re probably the most supportive ones you’ve heard since you got here, and the fact that it was from your instructor and not your friends or boyfriend was a bit eye opening. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, feeling your confidence deflate a bit as you begin to question if you were doing the right thing at this point in your life. 

“It’s okay,” he replied and stood up. “Come on, we have thirty graduates to inspire.”

You smile before following after him, still stuck in your own head about whether or not you are happy with how your life is going at the moment and also a bit worried that you had made a mistake.

[jennay]

Under The Stars

Request: hi! could i possibly request a best friends to lovers one shot with noah - sort of like, both of them were too scared to say how they felt? i was thinking the reader has been friends with noah and ruffilo since they were teenagers and she now works with the band as a guitar tech or something :') thank you!

Master List

An: I changed the setting where the confessions happen. I hope you love it. It's mushy!

If you want to be tagged in future Noah things let me know 🖤

If you have any requests feel free to send them!

You relaxed in the back of your 'new' truck, a battered old pickup your dad had given you as a hand-me-down. The metal was scratched and dented, and the paint was peeling off in places, but you loved it anyway. Noah and Nick, your two best friends, lay beside you on the soft blankets you had spread over the truck bed.

You felt their warmth and comfort as you gazed at the sky, watching the stars sparkle and fade. The night air was cool and crisp, and you heard the crickets chirping in the distance. You adored nights like this when their company made your teenage years more bearable.

"Look!" Noah exclaimed, pointing to the sky. "Shooting star."

"You have to make a wish!" You say, following the trail of the star with your eyes.

Nick leaned his head on your shoulder, snuggling closer to you. "Yeah, Noah, you saw it first! make the wish!”

You nodded in agreement, "He's right."

Noah smiled brightly and tilted his head to look at the two of you. His eyes were shining with mischief and curiosity. "I wish-" He started to say, but you quickly put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from speaking. "Don't say it out loud or it won't come true!" You warned him, laughing. You felt him mumble something under your hand and wondered what he wished for but didn't ask because you wanted all of Noah's dreams to come true.

The present:

You spring into action the moment you see Jolly turn around and look at the cord of his guitar. Something was wrong.

You had feared the day that this would happen but hoped it would never come. You wished it wasn't today.

Noah was already losing his patience with the crowd that kept brawling through the night, and the amount of technical difficulties that plagued the show made you feel like a lousy worker.

You sprint over to Jolly while Noah once again pauses the concert to lecture the crowd about their behavior. You're almost grateful for the disruption of the crowd. It buys you a few more minutes to figure out a solution to the problem.

You kneel down at the amp, searching for the problem, and you grab the cord, following it back to the guitar that Jolly is holding. His eyes widened, and he searched your face for answers.

You stick your pointer finger up as if telling him one minute, giving him hope that you've got this under control. You stand up, unplug the wire from his guitar, and race over to the chest. Lucky for you, only the cord needed to be replaced. You knew there was probably a bigger issue with Jolly's connection to his guitar, but right now, you couldn't fix that problem in the middle of the show.

You give Jolly a thumbs-up, and he gives a nod, mouthing thank you as you jog off the stage.

You hoped that would hold up until the show was over. You didn't believe in god but were now praying for a better outcome. You didn't want to disappoint the guys; they already had many issues tonight.

You sit on the side of the stage close to Jolly, just in case anything else happens. You were relieved when the band was no longer stopping for technical errors.

After the show, you meet up with guys backstage, giving them high-fives and admiration for their work.

You were so proud of them for all their badassery.

You walk them back to the bus, listening to them talk about the show. You hear Noah talking about the crowd, and he wonders out loud if they're doing something causing the actions. He's frustrated because this isn't the first time but hopes it will be the last.

You all rush into the bus, and Noah flops down on the couch. You sit beside him while the other three prepare to hit the town for the night.

When Ruffilo reappears in front of you, he has a sneaky smile on his face, "You're coming out with us right?" He asks you.

You shake your head and shut your eyes, "I'm really tired and going to pass out on this couch. This is my spot." You joke. "Now go, have fun. Drink for me." You say, waving them off.

As the others leave, you sit up straight, groaning, when you feel Noah's eyes on you. You know he's looking at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, which always makes your heart skip a beat.

You pretend to be annoyed and turn to face him. "What?" You ask, trying to sound casual.

Noah shrugs. "I have an idea." He stands up, walks to his bunk, and grabs one of the small blankets off his bed. He then hurried over to the small fridge tucked under the cabinet next to you.

"Do you have a sweater?" You shake your head, "What are you up to?"

"Go get one of Nick's sweaters, I saw one on his bunk. It's chilly outside." He grins warmly at you.

You raise an eyebrow, "Are you trying to get me drunk and steal Nick's clothes?"

He chuckles, "Maybe. Is that a problem?"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help but smile. You get up, doing as he says, and snatch the black zip-up hoodie he was referring to.

You walk back to Noah, who gives you the bottle of wine and slings the blanket over his shoulder.

He rummages through the small kitchenette, finding two coffee cups. "Guess this will do." He says with a shrug. "Let's go!"

You playfully roll your eyes, "Can you fill me in on what's happening?" You say, following him out the door.

You feel a cold breeze hit your face, and you shiver, wishing you had a thicker jacket. The sky is dark with glittering stars, and you can't help but stare up at the sky. You've always loved the night sky, the way it makes you feel small and infinite at the same time.

"We're going to go sip some wine and look at the stars, just like the old days. We haven't done that in ages." He says, flashing you a smile.

You feel your heart race again, remembering all the times you spent together under the stars, talking, laughing, dreaming.

He wraps his arm around you and leads you to an area that isn't too far from the bus but feels natural due to the trees surrounding the area. You smell the fresh pine and earthy soil and feel a sense of peace.

Noah lays the blanket down and smooths out any wrinkles. You take off your shoes and step on them, sitting down, "Hurry up. I'm cold and I could really use your body heat right now." You tease.

You don't mind the cold but love the excuse to cuddle with him.

"Is that all I'm good for?" He says, sitting next to you. He lifts his arm and lets you snuggle into his side.

You feel his warmth and his heartbeat, and you sigh contentedly. You breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat, cologne, and something uniquely him. You feel his lips press against your hair, and you smile.

"Hand me the wine."

You reach beside you and grab the bottle, handing it to Noah. You hear the top pop off, and he begins pouring the wine into the coffee cups. You take a sip, and your face scrunches at the bitter taste, pulling away from Noah. You give him a look of disgust, and Noah laughs at your reaction.

"Who drinks this shit?" You take another drink, hoping your taste buds will become more accustomed to the taste.

You don't care about the wine; you just want to spend quality time with him, away from the tour's chaos and stress.

You lean back on your hands, gazing at Noah with admiration. He's too busy pouring more wine; you watch the red liquid flow like blood.

At this moment, you're convinced something else is going on with him. He seemed nervous and fidgety, his eyes darting like a trapped animal.

You break the short silence by leaning forward and reaching out to touch his hair. Your fingers linger at his neck as you say, "I like your hair when it gets longer." You admit while stroking the wild strands.

Noah smiles down at you, his brown irises soft and kind, "Why do you think I haven't cut it again?" He asks with a nervous laugh.

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you look away. "You're growing it out for me?" You say, half-joking, half-hoping.

"Yes, I am." He says, his voice serious. "Because I want you to find me attractive." The words slip out of his mouth, and he freezes. His eyes widen, shocked by his own words.

Noah had only ever told Nick about his secret, and he always told him it was a crush that would fade over time. He practically begged Noah not to tell you. Nick feared it would ruin your friendships and didn't want to be the middleman if something happened.

"You what?" You say, stunned.

He exhales, biting his lip. "You know what I wished for all those years ago when we were kids in the back of your truck with Nick?" He looks at you, his expression hopeful and nervous. He gently grabs your hand in his.

You feel nervous at his touch. Noah didn't act this way, not around you. "You're not supposed to tell me your wishes." You smile weakly.

"I have to." He says desperately. "I've tried not saying anything and it still didn't come true." He lifts your chin, making you look into his eyes. He wants you to hear him loud and clear. " I wished for you to fall in love with me, to look at me the way you look at the stars."

You feel excitement in your chest, and want him to know you've wished for the same thing. You wrap your arms around his neck, and whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to wish anymore. I love you too.”

He smiles widely, and pulls you closer to him, his hands cup your face as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his tongue gently teasing your mouth. You hear his soft moan, and his heartbeat pounding in sync with yours.

You pull back, gasping for air, and look into his eyes. You see the same spark that ignited your kiss, the same desire that matched yours.

You smile and whisper, “I'll gladly make your wish come true.”

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