#and i simply continue to make her even more insane

[strywoven]

this is your constant reminder that verona does NOT favor men much at all. in fact , if she finds them attractive - in any capacity - her one thought likely will be : i wonder if i can hunt him for sport ? i wonder if he will look nice skinned and hanging on the mantle ? no , that's not a joke.

[starryhyuck]

pairing: challengers!johnjae x afab!reader

words: 3.5k+

summary: johnny suh and jeong jaehyun are determined to prove their worth to you in this year’s tennis competition. you all end up receiving more than you expected.

genre: smut

warnings: there is some mlm johnjae so please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with that, double penetration, cunnilingus, oral sex, handjobs, talks of creampies, three way make out

thank you for 9.5k followers!!

“Your serve is fucking insane.”

You hum noncommittally, fingers tightening around your bottle to spray more water into your mouth. You wipe the sweat from your brow as Donghyuck continues to eye you with amazement.

“You do know that ball boys don’t usually get to talk to the players, right?” You comment, a little perturbed by how easy it is for the younger man to approach you.

His eyes continue to sparkle despite your demeaning remark. Unbeknownst to you, Donghyuck signed up to become the tennis team’s lackey just to be able to see you in action.

You were the crown jewel of the university’s tennis program, having been recruited from the early stages of your high school career. Much speculation occurred at your decision to go to college first instead of turning to a professional career. You insisted to your parents that your education was still important despite your only shining skill being the ability to hit a ball with a racket. You slaved away most of your hours on this court, practicing to become the next best tennis player South Korea has ever seen.

“I’m looking forward to your match on Saturday,” Donghyuck says, eagerly handing you another tennis ball when you outstretch your palm to him.

Your eyebrow quirks up at the mention. The Korea Open kicked off this weekend and the press was convinced you would gain another title under your belt. You normally don’t enjoy goading them on, but you have a good feeling about the tournament this year.

“Scatter, pea brain,” Suyeon hisses when she approaches you two, flicking Donghyuck’s ear. The boy grumbles before returning to his place near the wall. Once he’s out of earshot, Suyeon turns her attention back to you. She’s dressed in one of her tightest skirts, indicating she has plans set in motion for tonight. “Are you ready to go yet?”

You shake your head at her inquiry. “I’m not done. Go ahead without me.”

She whines pitifully, clutching your arm tightly. “I can’t! You know I get much more attention when I walk in with you.”

You sigh. Suyeon has been chattering nonstop to you about all of the players who have flown in for the games this week. Tonight was the first party hosted by your university to welcome them, and your roommate took that as a green light to snag one of the tennis players for herself.

“I still need to practice my backhand-“

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Because I’ll do it.”

To prevent Suyeon from embarrassing herself even further, you hoist her arm and tug her away. She rejoices when you zip up your racket and bid your goodbyes to the remaining staff on the court. You do your best to ignore Donghyuck’s cheerful holler after you.

When you ask Suyeon if you can simply wear your practice gear, she throws you a disgusted look and quickly tugs you back to your shared dorm to change. You allow her to play dress up as she wants, wrapping your figure into a body hugging dress from the back of your closet. As soon as she deems you decent enough for the party, she hauls you over to the university’s lounge, where tonight’s events will be taking place.

Your first thought when you enter the party is that you would much rather be on the court. Just as Suyeon predicted, every eye turns to you when you step inside.

Whispers of tennis prodigy echo around the room and you try your best not to roll your eyes. Suyeon, on the other hand, basks in your popularity and bats her eyes towards the players that begin to approach the both of you. You decide to dodge the awkward conversation, excusing yourself to grab a refreshment.

It’s in the midst of downing a lemonade when you feel a presence linger behind you.

You turn to see none other than Johnny Suh and Jeong Jaehyun, the winners of last year’s doubles title. You heard that Jaehyun had enrolled into the same university as you while Johnny opted to go professional.

Despite the distance, the two seem closer than ever. And tonight, they stare at you like you’re their last meal.

“Hi,” you greet with an eyebrow raised.

Johnny speaks first, saying your name with a devilish grin. “We were wondering if we would see you here.”

He starts to introduce himself and Jaehyun, but you hold out a hand to stop him.

“I know who you are. I watched you two crush it at last year’s match,” you say, humming while you refill your glass. Jaehyun’s eyebrow ticks up at the revelation while Johnny’s smirk widens. “I’m guessing you’re both back to defend your title?”

“That, and to prove we’re just as good in the singles,” Johnny answers. You swallow a laugh at his unwavering confidence.

“I see you practice on the court sometimes,” Jaehyun says, diverting the topic of conversation back to you. “You’re incredible — I’ve never seen a backhand like yours.”

You smile at him, thanking him for the compliment. Jaehyun was definitely the more timid one of the pair, while you could tell Johnny led most of their conversations.

You feel like you’re in the lion’s den, with Johnny ready to pounce and Jaehyun waiting for permission to do the same.

Luckily, Suyeon rushes over and becomes your unknowing savior. Her hand wraps around your upper arm and she whines pitifully in your ear.

“SOS! SOS!”

“What is it?” You ask, eyes still remaining on the two men in front of you. Johnny’s fingers are slowly tightening around his glass and you wonder if he has the strength to break it. Jaehyun holds his a little more delicately, but you can see him clenching his fist behind his back.

You imagine one of them tangling their hands through your hair while the other wraps his around your neck.

“I don’t know anything about tennis,” Suyeon sighs, bringing you out from your lewd fantasy. “Come and help me, please?”

You smile at the two players, setting your glass down on a nearby table.

“Apologies, boys. Duty calls.”

You feel the weight of their stare follow you as you walk over to help Suyeon battle tennis talk.

You ponder if they’re desperate enough to stay behind for you.

—

You receive your answer later in the night.

As soon as Suyeon is all set for a lovely evening with a pretty player named Yuju, you start to make your way to the exit. You’ve had enough social interaction for one event, but two figures lingering by the door makes you second guess that decision.

Jaehyun adjusts his posture when he catches sight of you while Johnny leans casually against the wall, trying to make it seem as if he’s not affected by your appearance.

“You’re still here,” you hum, folding your arms across your chest. Both pairs of eyes quickly dart down to the swell of your breasts before moving upwards, acting like they weren’t just checking you out.

“Party’s too fun,” Johnny bites, sarcasm flooding his tone.

“I’m sure,” you chuckle dryly.

“Is your friend all good to go?” Jaehyun asks, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he genuinely wants to know the answer.

You smile at him. “Yes, I was able to rescue her from the awful tennis small talk.”

Johnny kicks off from his position against the wall, approaching you with determination. Jaehyun eyes him carefully, and you realize from their body language that they have done this dance before. You think about how many other girls have fallen into their open trap.

“Well, maybe tennis talk isn’t all that bad. Especially in a quieter setting.”

Johnny reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his spare key set to one of the dorms the university is housing them in. He dangles them in front of your face, and you drink in his smug expression and Jaehyun’s anxious anticipation at your answer.

You tilt your head teasingly. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

Johnny shrugs. “Nothing wrong with a few tennis players strategizing before the match, right?”

Against your better judgment, you follow the two back to their dorm. You ignore the way Johnny’s fingers brush against the back of your thigh as he walks behind you and how Jaehyun’s hand continuously knocks into yours, pinky fingers brushing by each other. They clearly have set motives for the night and you would be lying if you said your mouth isn’t foaming at the idea of taking them both at once.

Jaehyun unlocks the door for you both, and Johnny keeps a steady hand on your lower back as he guides you in. As you expected, the university set them up in a double room, with separate twin beds pressed against each wall.

Before you can comment on the size of the room, a hand snakes around your middle, pulling you against Johnny’s backside. His fingers brush your hair to the side, pressing kisses against your exposed neck. Jaehyun has fallen to his knees in front of you, pushing up the fabric of your dress so he can catch a glimpse of your panties.

You make no moves to stop either of them, hands intertwining with Johnny’s as he continues his assault on your throat. You faintly register that you’ll have to cover up his marks before your match tomorrow, but Jaehyun nipping you at your thighs brings you out of your thoughts.

“So you’ve done this before?” You confirm while Johnny’s hands harshly squeeze your hips.

“Maybe,” Johnny hums teasingly, drawing out the last syllable. “But no one as pretty as you.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at his cheesy retort. You look down to see Jaehyun staring up at you, eyes filled with unbridled lust. You stroke his cheek gently and giggle.

“Are you waiting for permission?”

Johnny chuckles from behind you. “He’s waiting for you to sit on his face, sweet girl.”

Your eyebrow quirks up in surprise. Multiple exclamation marks pop up in your head but you’re not one to hesitate if someone is willingly offering to provide you an orgasm, so you bunch up your dress to your waist and hover over Jaehyun’s mouth. Johnny helps you in the process, pulling your underwear to the side and guiding your hips until Jaehyun’s tongue brushes against your folds. You gasp at the feeling and Jaehyun wastes no time diving into you, eagerly eating your cunt like his life depends on it.

Johnny’s hands have wandered to the straps of your dress, pulling it down and fondling your breasts. His fingers roll over your nipples, hardened and peaked from the intense foreplay.

He whispers in your ear, playing the devil on your shoulder. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Jae loves it when it’s sloppy like this, loves to feel his mouth being used.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, catching the implication in his tone that Johnny has been in your spot before. “He likes it better when you tug on his hair like this,” Johnny says as he guides your hand to Jaehyun’s head, allowing you to pull the strands. “It lets him know he’s doing a good job.”

Jaehyun’s lips swallow every drop of essence your pussy grants him. He seems to be thoroughly enjoying the experience, hands grabbing your ass and pulling you deeper onto him.

It’s not long before you’re completely riding Jaehyun’s face, desperately pushing yourself back and forth on his mouth in pursuit of your orgasm. You whimper when his tongue flicks over your clit, teasing the nub until you’re begging for him to make you cum.

“Please, please,” you whine, fingers tugging on his hair harshly. “Wanna cum, Jae, please.”

“Let the princess get what she wants,” Johnny says to Jaehyun. “Can’t have the tennis prodigy all wound up before her big match.”

Jaehyun follows Johnny’s orders, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking until your orgasm hits you. You cry and ride out your high until your thighs start shaking. Johnny’s arms hoist you up and before you know it, he’s throwing you onto one of the beds in your post-orgasm haze. You hear the clinking of belts and a hand wraps around your throat, squeezing gently.

“Sit up, pretty girl. Want to see my cock slide down your throat,” Jaehyun whispers to you. His mouth is still covered in the remnants of your orgasm, and he casually licks his lips to capture some of the taste.

Johnny slides in to your left as you sit up, feet dangling over the side of the twin bed. You pull your dress off, flinging it across the room. With Jaehyun on your right, you give him your attention first. Your hand trails down his stomach until you’re gently grasping his cock, pulling him from the confines of his briefs. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, long and pink with pre-cum gushing from the tip. You can’t believe he was this hard the entire time he ate you out.

Your head turns to Johnny, who is smirking down at you. His fingers are already wrapped around his base, pumping slowly while he watches you. He’s thicker than Jaehyun but equally as aroused. You replace his hand with yours, mimicking his previous motions.

You find a rhythm between the two, alternating between sucking one cock and stroking the other, and switching before one of them can complain about the lack of attention. Johnny’s hand possessively grips your hair while Jaehyun keeps a solid pinch at the nape of your neck, keeping you steady.

“What a nice picture this would make,” Johnny laughs sinisterly, observing as you lick him from his base to his tip. “Maybe we should commemorate this moment, Jae. They could put it up in the Hall of Fame.”

“What? Right over a plaque that says best cocksucker?” Jaehyun chuckles. “Add best pussy too while you’re at it. Never tasted a cunt so sweet.”

You ignore their degrading comments, too enraptured in taking their cocks down your throat as best as you can. Just the thought of having them both inside you is enough to make you clench your thighs, chasing friction as slick drips from your cunt.

“Hm, wonder what the little princess is thinking about,” Johnny murmurs. “Maybe what it would be like to take two cocks at once?”

You whimper around Jaehyun’s length, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Jaehyun clicks his tongue, giving two experimental thrusts that has you gagging.

“Selfish of her,” Jaehyun comments to Johnny. “Wants all the attention for herself, on and off the court.”

“Let’s not make her wait any longer then.”

You cough a little when Jaehyun pulls himself out of your mouth. Johnny tugs on your hair harshly until you’re facing him. He leans down to press his lips to yours, tongues fighting for dominance as he pushes you back down on the bed. You clutch the back of his neck, hungrily kissing him until you’re gasping for breath.

They adjust your body so Jaehyun lies underneath you, cock prodding at your waiting hole. Johnny hovers above you, spitting at your pussy and pushing two fingers into your waiting heat.

You mewl at the intrusion and Johnny grins. “Just as I predicted, Jae, still wet and ready for us.”

When he pulls his digits out, you release a croaky laugh.

“So which one of you plans on taking home the singles trophy tomorrow?”

You feel them eye each other at your question, both lining themselves up to sink into you.

“The best man will win,” Jaehyun mumbles in your ear, not sounding so confident in his answer.

You smile, sensing an open opportunity to encourage some harmless fun. You can already picture the two of them tomorrow — sweaty and desperate to prove themselves as the best. The thought of them being so competitive for the title causes more slick to gush from your pussy.

“How about this then — tonight, you both have to pull out. But tomorrow, whoever wins the title gets to cum deep inside me,” you drawl, watching as Johnny’s eyes cloud over and feeling Jaehyun’s hands tighten around your waist. “And I’ll wear your cum in my panties all day to show everyone who I belong to.”

The idea of them staking a claim on you drives them into a frenzy. You whine when they both push into your cunt, fighting for the tight space between their ridiculously large cocks. You collapse onto Jaehyun’s front, head falling against his shoulder.

“Slut,” Johnny growls at you. “That’s how it’s going to be, hm? Pretty princess wants cum dripping down her legs as she practices her backhand?”

Jaehyun groans in your ear. “Fuck, I want to see that so badly.”

Your mind is drawing a blank, heat filling your stomach as the both of them continue to press into you.

Jaehyun chuckles. “Maybe we didn’t think this through, John. Looks like her pussy can’t even fit the both of us.”

“Maybe you’re right, Jae.”

When they start to pull out, your head whips up with an unmatched fury.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“There she is,” Johnny smirks. “Princess wants us to break her pretty pussy, is that it?”

Your competitive nature flares up. “Trust me, I can take it.”

Johnny and Jaehyun exchange another round of looks and eyebrow raises. You feel utterly unprepared when Jaehyun plants his feet on the bed and Johnny situates his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs. They begin a furious pace, with Jaehyun roughly thrusting upwards and Johnny railing you until your head hits the wall.

You nearly scream, convinced that the neighboring dorms are going to file noise complaints by the end of the night.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss at the feeling of two cocks driving into you.

You feel completely full as they stretch you out. Johnny’s hand comes down to your clit to try and ease some of the pain. You crumble when the pain ebbs into waves of pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“There you go,” Jaehyun coos in your ear. “Just let us take care of you, baby.”

Two fingers slide into your mouth and you clutch Jaehyun’s wrist, gagging on his digits.

“Can’t wait to cum inside this tight cunt tomorrow,” Johnny grunts.

You hear Jaehyun scoff and give another harsh thrust, almost knocking you against the wall again. You blubber on his fingers but he doesn’t seem to mind the drool slipping down his wrist.

“What makes you think you’ll be the sure winner?” Jaehyun asks between throaty groans.

Johnny chuckles at the question. “Come on, Jae. You can’t be serious.”

“And if I was?”

Your orgasm hits you without warning and you cry, back arching and thighs shaking from the intense pleasure. You have to blink a few times before regaining your senses, and you’re surprised by what you find when you can finally see clearly.

Johnny’s lips are locked with Jaehyun’s, their tongues fighting for dominance in a messy kiss. They’re both still pounding into you albeit at a slower pace, suddenly enraptured by one another as Johnny’s hand moves from your clit to tangle into Jaehyun’s hair. The latter moans underneath you, removing his fingers from your mouth to lazily grab a handful of your breast as you remain sandwiched between them.

You didn’t think it was possible, but you grow more aroused at the sight. Filthy squelching sounds fill the room and your body starts to overheat from the constant stimulation.

Johnny’s eyes drift over to lock with yours, and he smirks into Jaehyun’s mouth at the sight of you. He pulls away from Jaehyun, who eagerly chases after him. Johnny cups your cheek and attaches his lips to yours, tugging Jaehyun along in the process. The three of you engage in one of the sloppiest make out sessions you’ve ever experienced, combined with a mixture of tongues and breathy gasps.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jaehyun suddenly mumbles.

Johnny nods. “Me too. Let’s paint her body, shall we?”

You whine when they pull out of you, furiously stroking their cocks until they find release. You’re mesmerized at the sight of them climaxing, grunting harshly and coloring your stomach with ropes and ropes of their cum.

You collapse into a pile of bones and you feel them start to lick your neck, earnestly tasting the sweat dripping down from your face. You giggle at their unique form of aftercare.

“It seems like-“ you hiss when Johnny squeezes your breast again before continuing. “It seems like you two used up all of your energy. Do you think either one of you still has a chance tomorrow?”

Jaehyun laughs. “Don’t worry about us, baby.”

“Because we’re planning on cumming inside of this sweet cunt for the whole world to see, whether you like it or not,” Johnny finishes.

You swallow at their predatory gazes, shock traveling up your spine when you realize their cocks are already half-hard again.

You’re in big trouble.

[aklaustaleteller]

Might Fancy You

Y/n went from fearing Klaus, to studying in his studio, to then throwing Shakespeare insults at him while chasing after him to put paint on him; he'd started it. But what happens when she ignores his one warning and he has her cornered in a flash?

Warnings - few mentions of blood and some kissing. Word Count - 1.8k

I told you I'll have part two out in two days and here it is! You can read part one here, and well, I hope you enjoy both the parts!

“And you are?” Elijah asked the girl standing in the doorway of the mansion, clutching onto so many things that he worried all of it was going to fall out of her trembling hands any time now. 

“Um, I’m here to meet Klaus?” She said, an awkward smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. “He’s helping me with an art project,” she continued when the original didn’t say anything.

But he did raise an eyebrow at that, making her even more nervous and bunch up her shoulders in a defensive shrug. “You know what? I’ll just leave,” her voice made a few tumbles as she turned around and began walking out the door she’d just come in. Her guard was high up because she had no reason to believe that this vampire wasn’t going to drain her of blood then and there for stepping onto his property without any permission. 

“Y/n!” She heard a voice call out and she flinched, her heart trying to make up for the missed beat and speeding up as a result. 

“Y- yes?” She stuttered, slowly turning to face him, fearing what’s to come. How stupid had she been to ask a goddamn original to help her out with some- some school work! 

“What did you say to her, Elijah?” Klaus glared at his brother on seeing his new friend so shaken up.

Elijah only turned towards him in a slight confused daze. “I simply asked her who she was,” he said, walking away from the scene to probably his reading chair, leaving as nonchalantly as he could’ve killed her. 

A smile creeped up on Klaus’ mouth, a chuckle rumbling inside his chest at how easily she’d been frightened. It was almost bordering on endearing. 

“C’mon love, follow me,” he urged her as he walked up the stairs, coming to halt when he didn’t hear her move. “Y/n?” he called her, looking back at her from midway up the stairs. and coming to a realisation that she might genuinely be scared of him. 

“I think I’ll go,” she said, looking very close to passing out. “Forget I asked you for anything.” She didn’t even look him in the eyes and turned back around to leave and get away from this mansion as fast as she could.

But of course, Klaus stood in front of her just as she turned, almost sending her heart flying out of her mouth. It was strange, to witness this completely new side of the girl who ferociously bit right back at him the most creative insults he’d ever heard in his long life.

“Why are you so suddenly terrified of me?” Klaus asked, his face creasing in confusion as his eyes showed her specks of hurt that could very well just be the mossy-green of his eyes deceiving her. “What happened?”

“I- I don’t know maybe the sense that you’re an original who could rip me to shreds or drain me of all my blood right here,” she stopped herself like she’d done something insanely stupid and – ”finally knocked at my brain,” she trailed off very softly, almost as if cautious of making him angry.

“Y/n- love, you know I’d never do that,” he mumbled, cupping her face and almost flinching when she went stiff. “I mean I could do that but I never would!” he reframed his sentence when she narrowed her eyes, for some reason, desperate that she understood him.  

“What do I have to believe you wouldn’t?” 

“Because I do not have any reason to,” Klaus reassured her, not saying that maybe because he fancied her a little, just because this wasn’t the ideal moment for a confession like that. 

Y/n didn’t say anything at that. Standing still and looking into his eyes, searching his face for any signs of underlying betrayal but she didn’t find any – not that she expected to, he is a thousand years old after all, surely he’d know how to disguise his motives.

And yet, when Klaus grasped her arm and led her up the stairs, she let him. 

“I see you brought all of your stuff,” Klaus chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood as he took a million things out of her hold, placing it all on the rug and smiling when he saw her setting up the canvas for him. He could get used to this very easily. 

“I did, it’s my work you are doing after all,” she said softly, slowly coming out of her shell. “I didn’t want you to waste your supplies on it,” she continued. 

“I wouldn’t say this is wasting anything,” Klaus proposed, thinking that maybe this would be the topic for their discussion today, slight banter even? 

“I wouldn’t either,” she agreed with him, catching him a little off guard. “But the school people will tear this apart and throw it in the trash before I could ever get to it.”

Klaus shook his head at that, preparing the paints and the brushes. “And why would you want to get to it?”

Y/n had managed to make herself comfortable on the floor a couple feet away from him, her papers already scattered on the floor of his studio,  and Klaus only hoped that they could do this more often after this day.

“Well, I wouldn’t want it go to waste… you see? Maybe hang it somewhere in my house when it’s purpose in school is served,” she shrugged nonchalantly, taking the cap off of a pen by her mouth and Klaus wanted nothing more than to rush over to her and cup her face to kiss her. 

Which reminded him that she was quite fastly transitioning back to her usual self around him. He smiled at that, the scary thrill in his heart that had come at the thought of her fearing him slowly fading away. 

Neither of them said anything after that, getting to their individual works in silence. The soft sounds of Klaus’ brush against the canvas, mixing colours on his palette and rinsing the brush rid of the previous colours filled the room along with sounds of Y/n flipping her book, turning the pages in notebooks and changing pens. 

The sun peeked in through the windows, the lighting constantly changing as the clouds drifted calmly through the sky. 

While painting, Klaus began to worry about this girl who was so engrossed in her homework that she hadn’t moved once. He worried that she’d gotten so serious and quaint that she might just tumble into sadness. All that to say, he missed her laugh a little as well.

He tuned to just look at her while he was sure that she was unaware. Her hair was tied up, circular glasses that had a coppery rim slipping lower and lower on the bridge of her nose until she had to fix them. She looked cute, Klaus caught himself thinking.

Her lips were resting in a faint pout as she focused, her fingers picking at them while she jottled down something in her notebook with her free hand. His hand ached to trace its fingers over the highs and the lows of her face. The little frown that had formed inbetween her eyebrows made her look all the more cute and Klaus found himself walking over to her, his feet functioning on a mind of their own. 

He bent down to come face-to-face with her as she was sitting, and he almost cooed at the fact that she still hadn't quite registered the close proximity at which he was in front of her. Raising up his hand, he booped her nose – getting the very reaction he was hoping for.

She looked up at that, slightly startled, only to catch Klaus’ eyes widening a little themselves. 

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh, because there was something…” he panicked, his eyes frozen on the spot he had gotten yellow paint on her nose. “I removed it though, don’t you fret,” he smiled, brushing over his pants as he began to stand up straight. 

But she passed him a glare then, clutching the bottom of his henley to stop him. “Klaus,” she began. “Did you remove something or put something there?”

He shrugged at that, focusing back on the canvas and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her getting up. 

“Klaus.” She said his name with an underlying warning. She brushed her own finger over the very spot he had touched, and saw the paint.

“Everyone’s entitled to act stupid once a while, but you really abuse the privilege,” she was walking closer to him and Klaus knew exactly what was about to commence, making him cover his head with his arms when she pressed her hand against the paint on the palette. 

He howled with laughter when she dragged her hands across his neck, twisting and turning to get away from her. Still laughing at the insult she threw at him because it was a bloody good one, Klaus swiped his finger across her collarbone, earning a whine from her as she began chasing him around the studio. 

Stopping to catch her breath, she began shouting at him – “thou crusty batch of nature!” But laughter slipped past both of their mouths before they could even contemplate what she’d just said. 

“No way you just threw a Shakespearree insult at me,” Klaus laughed, standing on the complete other side of the room, opposite to her.

He feigned a growl when she began walking towards him, red paint almost drying on her palms. “Take another step, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Klaus whispered loud enough for her to hear. 

And she ignored his warning, just like he was hoping she would. Watching her creep up closer and closer to him, Klaus felt a smirk pull up a corner of his lips. 

In a flash, Klaus had her pinned against a wall, her wrists held above her head in his hands. His face tilted to the side lightly, his eyes focused on her mouth as he felt her gaze on him heating up her skin. She tipped her chin forward, her lips not quite meeting his’, making him close the gap between them and connect their lips. 

Lips moving in a perfect sync, Klaus brought one of his hands down to snake it around her waist, her mouth opening with a gasp at the sensation and giving him the chance to kiss her further. The back of her head met with the wall behind her as they kissed with a passion that felt too heated. 

Detaching their mouths, both of them took in heaves of breath, Klaus pecking her lips once more before releasing her wrists. She was looking into his eyes, searching them for something and Klaus couldn’t help but smile at her, her lips very lightly swollen, looking like they’d just been kissed. 

“Think I might fancy you a tad,” he grinned, laughing out loud when she grabbed his face to kiss him again, making him lose his balance only for a second before he was cupping her face ever so gently.

"Never realised I wanted to hear you say it so much,” she let slip a breathy chuckle, looking into his eyes before kissing his lips once more. Lord, it was addictive – he was addictive. 

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

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

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

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

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

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

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can too!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You 

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

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

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

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spanking, five. 

Whips and Crops, five. 

Paddles, five. 

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

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

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

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

[joelsmochi]

honey ♡ joel miller

rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)

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“Which eyeshadow should I use?”

You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”

Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.

“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.

“Uh… Yeah?”

“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”

“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.

Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”

“My dad is a dork.”

“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”

Sarah only rolled her eyes.

“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”

Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.

You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.

His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—

“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“

“Oh, really?”

You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”

“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.

“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.

She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”

You groaned softly. “Bummer.”

“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”

“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.

You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”

“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”

You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.

♡

You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.

“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.

He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.

“Bees?”

“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”

Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”

He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”

You only shook your head.

“They’re calm if you are.”

I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.

“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”

He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.

You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.

“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.

He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”

“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”

Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”

“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.

You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.

“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“

“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.

“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”

“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”

“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”

You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.

“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”

“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”

Idiot.

“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”

He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”

You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“

“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.

“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.

“Mnh-mnh.”

“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”

“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.

Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”

His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.

“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”

“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.

He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.

“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”

He smirked at your amused expression.

“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”

He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”

Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.

“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”

It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.

Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.

WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.

You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.

Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.

“Tastes good.”

“Just good?”

“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.

He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.

“Sarah know you’re out here?”

After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”

“So we’re all alone,” he finished.

“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”

He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.

Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.

“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.

Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”

“S’normal,” he muttered.

He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.

You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.

“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”

You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.

He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.

“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”

“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.

“Hmm. Where at?”

Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”

Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.

“I get it?” His voice strained.

You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”

Your clavicle.

More honey. More licking.

“How ‘bout now?”

You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”

Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.

“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.

His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.

“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”

Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.

He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.

Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.

Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.

Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.

Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.

He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.

His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.

Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.

He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.

“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”

Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”

Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.

“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”

You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.

“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”

“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.

His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.

“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”

Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.

“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”

Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.

Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.

“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”

You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.

“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”

He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.

Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.

“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.

He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.

“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”

You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.

“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”

“I’m cu—oh!”

“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”

He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.

Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.

“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“

He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.

Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.

“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.

“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”

[sinning-23]

Hello,

How about a LA luffy where he's dating Reader and he keeps talking about her but no one believes him until she comes and rescue them or something I know not much details but please take this to your account English isn't my first language so excuse me

OMG THIS IS PERFECT! Thank you for the request! I apologize for taking so long to write it I've been so busy and full of writers block its insane! I added a little twist with his and made th reader a gunslinger sooo yeah(for the plot) Anywa here we go! Enjoy

Warnings: None

The strawhat crew was becoming increasingly irritated with how much Luffy would speak of this mystery woman who he claimed to be his 'girlfriend'. In all honestly, neither of them thought he had the romantic capacity to even GET a girlfriend to begin with. But the way he spoke of her...it couldn't all be lies could it?

He mentioned how you'd saved him with your remarkable skills as a gunslinger and you were an amazing shot. He gushed about how it took only one bullet to kill three men who had threatened him and when it was all over you 'pepper his face with kisses'. How you were always there to save him more times than not and that you were just absolutely beautiful. The 'prettiest girl' he'd ever seen as he told it.

"If you guys are so in love why didn't she join you on this little pirate adventure." Nami quips, eyes rolling at the most recent story Luffy had explained. He only tilted his head and smiled as if the answer was just so obvious (it wasn't.)

"It wasn't her dream." He smiles, rocking back and for a bit as Zoro finished off his drink before speaking.

"This wasn't exactly our first choice either but here we are." the swordsman smirks, his arms crossed over his chest.

The smirk was soon replaced with irritation when the waiter went to speak.

"That's different. Besides, I'm sure Luffy wouldn't leave a woman like that all on her lonesome. Right?" Sanji questions, more so trying to convince himself Luffy had more sense than that. But the brunette only shakes his head.

"Nope, she said we would cross paths again one day and I let her be. It was a deal! And now I get to wait until one day I see her beautiful face again." And before anyone could protest or pry any further, Luffy stuffed his face with food.

A sigh rang out from Nami as she leaned against the seating of the booth they're in, only to quickly shoot back up with wide eyes. Since Luffy's bounty had got a hell of a whole lot bigger, there was always the occasional run-in with someone who claimed they'd be getting their money sooner rather than later.

On this particular night though, a gang of about 6 or 7 had strutted up to their booth and slammed his bounty on the cracked wood of the table, making it shake. Zoro paused, debating if these idiots were worth the fight and Luffy continued to eat without a care in the world.

"I'm getting that bounty tonight." Then, what they all assumed was the leader spoke, his hand drawing his sword. This could have gotten ugly rather quickly but the fight seemed to be over with the sound of fired shots ringing through the eatery.

It was so quick you'd almost miss it…each shot followed by another, and one by one each of the men dropped like flies, screams and gasps of frightened patrons filling up the space momentarily. From the darkened corner of the bar stood a woman in a rather large coat that almost touched the floor.

The revolver in her hand rattled before she tucked it away into one of the many pockets that adorned her body. She was a decent height, and her hair was pushed out of her face most likely to keep her line of sight from being obscured. Finally, the once look of disgust that was painted over her features was filled with joy as she stepped over the bodies of the men she'd just laid to waste.

"Luffy!" She squeals, practically vibrating as the Stawhat leaped form his seat and embraced the mystery woman.

This wasn't the usual hug though, Luffy had simply lifted the lady and twirled her, his face buried in the crook of her neck and she giggled and tangled her fingers in his hair.

"I'm sorry did we miss something?" Nami quips, looking to the rest of the crew to confirm they were just as lost.

"This is her! Remember the girl I've been talking about!?" He practically shouts, his hand secure at your waist as that iconic smile plays over his lips.

Oh okay it was finally starting to make sense. Two cinimon rolls but one can and will kill you if they so desire...well-

Nami is the first to laugh, disbelief filling her but the closer she looks the more her laughter and smirk dies down. Luffy's hand was firm at your waist, yours on his chest as you flash a content smile.

"Y/n, meet my crew!" Luffy introduces as you jut your hand out happily, meeting that of whom you soon learn is Usopp and Sanji. Nami was next and Zoro simple noddded in your direction.

"You really know how to pick em! Congratulations on this bounty by the way love." You hum, pressing kisses over Luffy's freckled cheeks.

Damn how much love and affection could you give? It was like every two seconds your lips were pressed somewhere against their Captain’s face! And he didn’t seems to mind at all! Well, not that Luffy was bothered by it but still! With one last kiss to your boyfriend’s face, you usher the crew out of the eatery, sliding the bartender some extra berrie to apologize for the ruckus.

The two of you looked so inseparable like that, hands interlinked and swinging back and forth simultaneously.

“You know what this means don’t you. Usopp teases, sticking his hand out awaiting Nami to fulfil her end of the bargain.

She swears in defeat roller her eyes before paying.

Who wouldn’t make a bet on something as outlandish as their captain having a girlfriend!?

[nathaslosthershit]

The Truth Behind It All

Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.

The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love. 

She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.

Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.

The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room. 

“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation. 

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.

“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.

“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.

“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”

“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”

He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself. 

“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”

“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”

“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”

“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”

“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.

“What, love?”

“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom. 

—

Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.

A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.

Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.

“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”

“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”

“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”

“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”

“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.

Oh how unfair it all was.

[mapis-putellas]

[ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴇᴀᴛꜱ ]

Summary: You never intended to meet the love of your life on a random Friday at work, and you definitely never thought she’d be world famous footballer Alexia Putellas.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Your date with Alexia ends up lasting the entire day. After getting ice cream -the second activity Alexia had planned- you'd ended up taking a small road trip to the nearest beach just a few miles away. Due to the time of day it was still relatively crowded, but you'd managed to find a small unoccupied area near the water where Alexia had promptly laid out the hoodie she'd brought from the car for you to sit on.

She'd sat herself opposite, cross legged, just like you, with her knees flush against your own. It was kind of perfect honestly, just sitting with her talking about anything and everything. She even teaches you a few more Spanish words, high-fiving you and intertwining her hands with your own whenever you got something right.

Had it been just an excuse to touch you? Maybe? But you certainly hadn't minded.

You'd then spent at least an hour walking hand in hand down the shoreline, comfortable conversation still flowing smoothly between you. It was only when the sun had started to set did you make the joint decision to call it a day, the car ride back feeling a lot quicker than the initial journey there. She'd pulled up outside of your apartment just as the clock strikes nine pm, leaving the car running as she unbuckles her seatbelt and steps out. You watch her round the vehicle before reaching to your open door, not hesitating to take the hand she offers you and allowing her to help you out of the car.

You'd stared at one another for a few moments before you had step forward to loop your arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug, Alexia responding almost immediately by securing her arms around your waist and lifting you slightly off of your feet.

You cup the back of her head, effectively bringing her with you when she sets you back down and pressing your lips softly against her own. A few murmured assurances about a second date had briefly filled the silence, and then you'd both bid one another a rather reluctant goodbye, you waving her off from your place on the sidewalk.

You had entered your apartment feeling both ecstatic and sad. Ecstatic because this was officially the best date you'd ever been on and sad because it was over. That continues as you get ready for bed, but a text from Alexia sweetly bidding you a good night immediately cheers you up.

Throughout the remainder of the week, you and Alexia text pretty frequently. It's mostly in the evenings when she was free and the conversation was mostly pretty friendly with the occasional i hope to see you soon thrown in. It bums you a little that nothing had been brought up about a second date; especially when you'd asked her to let you know when she was free so you didn't plan something when she was busy. But it could simply be the fact that she had no free time and was waiting for a day to be available. That's what you've been telling yourself anyway, so not to drive yourself insane with the what ifs.

About three days after your first date is when she FaceTimes you for the first time. It was a little after eight at night, so you were in the bathroom getting ready for bed when your phone buzzes softly against the counter. You pick it up, blinking a little in surprise when you see the name on your screen but not hesitating to press accept.

"Hey." You smile, propping her up against the back of the sink as you continue wiping off your makeup.

She was in her car, you think, though it didn't seem as though she was driving. It was slightly dark, but you could make out the fact that she was wearing the same football kit she'd been wearing the day you'd met. Man, she really liked football huh?

"Hola, amor." She greets, reclining her seat back slightly so she could get more comfortable. She props her elbow up on the door, resting her head in her hand. "How has your day been?" She wonders.

You shrug slightly as you wet your face before uncapping your face wash, pouring some out onto your hand and rubbing it onto your skin. "It's been alright," you shrug. "work was long but productive. I ate some dinner and read my book and now I'm getting ready for bed. How was your day?" You quickly rinse off your face before drying it off with a clean towel.

Alexia sighs softly. "My day was good, gracias, amor." She offers you a tentative smile, one you don't hesitate to return. You bend down a little, resting your elbows against the counter and resting your face in your hands. Alexia tilts her head to the side, looking inquisitive as you stare at her.

"What is it?" She whispers after a few silent moments, and you sigh softly as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Is it weird to say that I missed you?" You admit a little more bashfully than you would have liked, your cheeks flushing a light shade of red.

Alexia's features soften as she holds her phone a little closer to her face. "No," she shakes her head. "It is not weird. I missed you too. I have been trying to find a free day for our second date but I have been..."

"Busy," you nod, letting out a soft sigh as you pick up your moisturiser. "I know, I understand. I just wanted to tell you."

She nods. "Actually, I call because I have a question...for you."

"Ask away." You assure.

"I have training tomorrow, and I want to ask if...you could, wanted, to go with me?"

"Football training?" You ask, turning off the bathroom light and making your way into your bedroom.

"Sí." Alexia nods.

"You want me to go with you to training?"

"Yes. If you want to. Of course you do not have to, it will be boring, just sitting in the stands but..."

"I'll never turn down an opportunity to see you Alexia. Of course I'll come with you." You were quick to say as you settle against her headboard of your bed, propping your phone up with a pillow in front of you. "Just know I have no idea how any of it works." You warn somewhat seriously.

Alexia laughs. "That is okay. I will explain it to you." She assures.

"You will, huh?" You grin, reaching back to pull your hair back into a ponytail. Your tank top slips up your body at the action, slightly exposing your torso, and you pretend you don't notice the way her eyes not so subtly flicker down to get a look. She clears her throat softly just a few seconds later, a sheepish smile slipping onto her lips when she realises you'd caught her in the act.

"Promesa." She says after a few seconds, and you hum softly as lean back against the headboard of your bed.

"Wait," you abruptly sit back up. "does training count as a second date?"

"Uhhh..." she sends you a guilty smile.

"Alexia! I was supposed to plan the second date!"

*

It was only when Alexia pulls up outside of a large looking stadium the next day do you realise that maybe this whole football thing was a lot more serious than she'd been letting on.

You look around as you exit the car, seeing many others in matching football kits as Alexia grabs a large duffel bag out of the trunk. Some look right at to with a look of confusion on their faces, making you wonder if Alexia really had permission to bring you here after all.

You turn, ready to question her, but Alexia subtly shakes her head as she gestures you towards the entrance of the stadium. Though your confusion deepens, you comply and follow her inside, your eyes widening when you take note of people with cameras and phones filming everyone who passes as Alexia grasps your hand and pulls you out of the way of everyone.

"Alexia, what's going on? You said this was football training-"

"Sí," she cuts you off, squeezing your hand. "It is football training. I...I play for Barça."

"I-okay? I don't know what that means. Why are there people taking pictures? Why are there cameras?" You whisper the last part, not wanting anyone to overhear.

Alexia sighs lightly. "Vale. I...I am Alexia Putellas."

You raise an eyebrow as you lean back against the wall, shoving your hands into your pockets. "I know your name, dummy."

"No," she shakes her head. "I do not know how to explain in English. I do not know the right words. You have your phone, sí?"

You nod, your eyebrows furrowing.

She swallows heavily as she gestures for you to pull it out, and you comply. "Google my name. That will explain and I will answer the questions you have."

"I am so confused." You mutter, unlocking your phone and typing Alexia's name into google. Your eyes widen in disbelief at the results that greet you, lips parting in silent surprise as your body becomes entirely still. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the fog of bewilderment that had clouded your vision.

Alexia Putellas didn't just like football like you had assumed. She was a famous footballer.

You jump reflexively when you feel her hand gently come to rest on your arm, wincing a little when Alexia rips her hand away a though she'd been scolded.

"I..." you have absolutely no idea what to say.

"I know," Alexia murmurs. "I am sorry, I should have-"

You shake your head, holding a hand up to stop her from talking. She complies, but grows more antsy the longer you remain silent. You swallow heavily as you lock your phone, stuffing it back onto your pocket with a little more force than was maybe necessary.

"You're...famous. You're a famous footballer and you didn't think to tell me before bringing me here?" You didn't sound mad, just...confused, and maybe a little hurt too.

Alexia adjusts her kitbag on her shoulder before softly clearing her throat. "I wanted to," she promises. "but, I did not know how to say it. So I thought-"

"That bringing me here would tell me for you." You cut in, and Alexia visibly winces.

"Sí." She murmurs. "I am sorry."

You sigh lightly. "It's okay. I have...more questions, but you apparently have training and I don't want you to be late."

Alexia nods. "Are you still..."

You nod. "I'll still watch." You say, smiling a little at the breath of relief that slips from Alexia's lips as she tentatively holds out her hand. You take it, feeling the way she squeezes tightly as she leads you outside and towards the stands.

She offers you any of the seats, and you decide on one that was close enough to be able to see what was going on but far enough away where you wouldn't be too easily noticed. The last thing you wanted, or needed, right now, was questions. Questions you had no idea how to answer. You sit down with your bag on the seat next to you, expecting Alexia to head off to training but blinking in surprise when instead she crouches down before you and rests her hands on your knees.

"I am sorry, again," she murmurs, still evidently feeling bad. "I did lot mean to lie to you. I was just-"

"I know," you assure. "Like I said I'm not mad at you. Just confused. But you'll explain everything to me later, right?"

"Sí. Yes. Promesa," Alexia nods, "but I still-"

"Ale." You gently cup her cheeks, trailing the pads of your thumbs over the warm skin. Brown eyes flicker up and meet your own, lips quirking up into a hesitant smile. "we've only known each other a week. Been on one date. It's a big thing, telling someone this. I understand, truly."

Alexia shifts softly as she leans into your touch. "But you seemed upset," she whispers. "You jump when I touch you." 

"Because I wasn't expecting it," you admit with a soft smile. "I didn't flinch because I was upset. I flinched because it genuinely made me jump."

"Oh," Alexia mumbles, "vale. That is good then. I-"

"Alexia!" Someone calls her name.

You both turn your heads, spotting Mapi's familiar face staring right back at you. You wave, genuinely happy to see her again and Mapi grins widely as she returns it before she once again gestures for Alexia to come over.

Alexia nods in acknowledgment before turning back to face you. "I have to go now, you have food yes? And drinks?"

"Sí." You nod, taking the hands on your knees and giving them a soft squeeze. "I have entertainment too. I have a book, my iPad. I'll be fine. Go do what you gotta do."

Alexia nods, leaning forward to kiss your cheek before standing up. She goes to walk away before abruptly stopping and unzipping her bag before rummaging through it, turning back to face you just a few seconds late with a hoodie in her grasp.

You shake your head softly. "Ale, it's hot. I don't nee-”

"Just in case, amor," She folds it up before placing it on your lap. "I do not want you to get cold."

You know full well you wouldn't get cold, but the thought of Alexia worrying that you would and offering you her hoodie fills your stomach with butterflies.

"Okay," you accept. "Thank you."

Alexia nods, sending you one last smile before hurrying down to the large field. She was immediately greeted with Mapi's knowing smile, Alexia rolling her eyes playfully as the rest of her teammates approach her. Someone says something promoting every single pair of eyes down there to meet your own, and you stare wide eyed for a second before bravely bringing your hand up for a cautious wave.

Some wave back. Some smile. One in particular; a brunette with her hair tied back into a ponytail slips away from the group, a wide grin on her face as she makes her way towards you. You wince internally when neither Alexia or Mapi seem to notice, hoping to god your terror wasn't noticeable as she makes it to the seat next to you and sits down.

"Hola," the brunette grins. "Soy Aitana. Eres la novia de Alexia?"

You stare at her blankly.

She frowns. "No hablas español?"

You somehow manage to understand this and promptly shake your head.

"Ahh," she nods before pointing to herself. "I am Aitana." She says slowly, accent thick, before pointing to you. "You are?"

"I'm Y/n."

"Ahh. And you are Alexia's girlfriend, sí?"

"Aitana! Vuelve aquí!" A voice you don't recognise calls out, but Aitana ignores it as she looks at you expectantly.

You swallow heavily before shaking her head. "Um, no. I'm not her girlfriend."

"You are not?" She frowns, and you shake your head again.

"We've only been on one date. This is the second." You explain.

Her frown deepens. "El entrenamiento de fútbol fur su gran idea para una segunda cita? Idiota, Alexia." She grumbles to herself.

You didn't understand the first part of her sentence, but you sure did understand the second. She thought Alexia was an idiot.

"Aitana! Ahora!" Calls that voice again, and Aitana waves them off as she sighs heavily and turns in her seat a little to face you.

"I will talk to her." She reaches her hand out to pat your leg in what you assumed was an action of reassurance, and though you didn't quite know what she planned to talk to Alexia about, you find yourself nodding your head in hopes it'd get her to head back to training before she got you both in trouble.

"Aitana!"

"I am going now, but we will talk later, yes?" She questions as she rises to her feet, and you nod somewhat dumbly as she turns makes her way back down to the field. She skips right over to Alexia who was in the middle of talking to someone, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. The second she has it, she begins talking, waving her hands about animatedly as she gestures from you to the field around you placing her hands on her hips.

Alexia watches on in mild concern and confusion before her eyes flicker over to you. Her eyebrow raises in silent question, and you nod assuringly, not at all affected by Aitana despite how enthusiastic she'd been.

Her other brow raises, almost as though she was asking if you were sure, and you nod again, this time throwing her a double thumbs up for good measure.

Alexia nods, turning back to face Aitana. As she begins to talk, you rummage through the small bag you brought and pull out your iPad. You'd download a few new books this morning that you knew would occupy you for the entirety of the time you were here, and as you select one, you lean back a little in your seat in hopes of getting a little more comfortable.

*

Alexia's training ends up lasting a little over four hours, and you surprisingly manage to keep yourself appropriately occupied for little over three of them. You read your book, play a few games and even make a good dent in the snacks you'd brought. It was part way through the fourth hour that you start becoming a little restless.

In an attempt at distracting yourself, you try and follow along the little scrimmage match that Alexia and her teammates were having, but it ultimately proves ineffective when you have absolutely no idea who was winning or what was even going on.

Eventually, you're forced to stand, shrugging on the hoodie that had been on your lap ever since Alexia had put it there before beginning to pace, subconsciously bringing the sleeve to your face to take in her scent. It smelt just as you remember.

You manage a total of five laps before your name was called, your eye's immediately flickering towards the direction it had come from. It was Alexia. She was stood at the edge of the field, gesturing you over with a smile on her face, and you hesitate for only a second before grabbing your things and making your way down.

She immediately throws an arm over your shoulder the second you were close enough, pressing a rather sweaty kiss to your forehead in which you just about manage to refrain from wiping away. You completely miss the smirk that graces her features at the sight of you in her hoodie.

"They want to meet you. Is that okay?" She murmurs quietly, gesturing to her teammates who were talking amongst themselves just a few feet away. You glance between them and Alexia as you lean slightly into her side, a rather hesitant look on your face. Alexia's facial expression was much the same, almost as though she'd tried to talk them out of it but had ultimately failed to to do.

"You can say no, amor. I will not be mad, and they will not either.” she assures softly, and you let out a quiet exhale through your nose before nodding your head. Getting it over and some with would be the easiest option, right?

"Vale, come on then."

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @marysfics

[iambilliejeanok]

🩷Lust and Tradition🩷

Summary: Gojo Satoru finds himself obsessing over his arranged wife’s innocence. He ends up finding himself doing things to her that even frightens him at times. Y/n who never even knew what sex was until she married Satoru, must now navigate how she should manage her own uncontrollable lust to please her husband, who simply has no mercy when it comes to having her obey him and his strange desires. How can she continue to behave like a lady when he makes her feel like a whore at times and just how long can Satoru play this out until he finally manages to break her.

Warnings: 18+, no minors please, very explicit, shameless smut, nsfw, cunnilingus, oral sex, tongue fucking, vaginal fingering, mentions of vaginal and anal penetration, dacryphillia, spanking, power play, arranged marriage, nipple play, kinky, edging, smut from the beginning to the end.

Gojo Satoru is a man who admires tradition and order. He’s excited to have a wife now, even though you were chosen for him, he still managed to fall for you rather quickly, especially because he finds himself obsessing over your innocence. Your family had groomed you into being a lady perfect for just him. Your favorite color, food, hobbies and abilities were all manipulated to whatever it was that he preferred, all in hopes that the Gojo clan would choose you of all the beautiful women who were also hopeful to marry him. The day finally came and your family praised you more than you ever heard them in front of his elders and Satoru loved everything they had to say about you, but for some reason or another, it was only one piece of information that really stuck with him. You’re a virgin. You’ve never even kissed a boy and the thought of it drove him absolutely crazy. A year into your marriage and you’re fully aware of just how insane he is. He always strays away from penetrating your vagina because he wants to hold on that for as long as possible. If he’s going to take away your innocence and ruin your tight little holes, you’re going to have to beg him for it and if you’re lucky, and he feels convinced, he might give in and grace you with the pleasure of his thick girth tearing you up while you claw cry and scream for him, but he won’t make it easy for you. Only a woman who can entertain his sick and twisted kink for however long he desired can have the pleasure of having his dick anywhere inside of them and since you are his wife, this is going to have to be your fate. Unfortunately for you, the day hasn’t come yet and I say unfortunately because savoring your innocence doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not getting any sexual pleasure. Trust me, he will certainly ensure that you’re getting a lot, even more than what you want sometimes, but once everything is over and done with and you’re face is burried against his warm chest, stifling your moans while trying to recover from the pleasure he let on you, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit unsatisfied. Your vagina is still aching for him, and you can feel it burning so hot as you fantasize of finally having his warm, thick cock massage those aches away. You don’t care about just how painful it might be, you’re too horny to worry about any pain and would happily take on whatever pain you might feel in the name of just feeling him inside your most intimate part.

You squirm against him after those sessions of “innocent pleasure”, as he calls it, that he graces you with when he’s in a good mood and he always notices your uncontrollable lust. He will pretend he doesn’t mind it, but you know he does and you’ll pay for it soon, because despite he’s own pervertedness, he is a traditional man in every sense of the word and will not hesitate to give his wife a decent spanking for her indecency and impure thoughts. The mornings will go on as usual and you’ll start them by waking up before him and preparing his clothing for the day and some breakfast too, unless he decides to start off your mornings by indulging himself with your body. He confuses you sometimes, because he strongly forbids you from entertaining any “filthy” thoughts of him touching you and after a year of being his wife, you still struggle to understand why you’re not allowed to have him how you want to. Afterall, he’s your husband and you are his wife, but according to tradition, all you can do is listen to him and never disobey. So even after he violates your entire body, expect for you vagina, in a way that is most delicious and pleasurable and drives you to tears at times, you cannot question why he doesn’t seal the deal and finally make you his. He leaves after breakfast to work and you’re left feeling like you’re burning at the stake with lust after he took you on the table once again this morning. He does this often and you’re afraid you really might loose it sometime.

The evenings are more intense than the mornings and last much longer and each night you swear you might lose your mind, Satoru taking pleasure in sucking on your nipples. He could do this for hours, he does often and will make you cry just from this, your nipples so sensitive from his prolonged sucking and squeezing. You jump and whimper with every nip he gives your perky buds, trembling on his lap as you cum, despite how painful it gets and you’re too timid to ask him to stop, biting your lip hard yet still failing to stifle your whining and whimpering, gripping his hair without care of causing him pain and your panties are soaked by the time he finally decides to move on.

After ridding you of your last piece of clothing, he places you down whoever he’s taking you, and sometimes, opts to kneel in between your legs just to torture you all the more. He spreads your folds apart so wide that you can’t help but squirm with desire, your vagina aching so intensely that it hurts more than you can bare, but when you voice this to him, he tells you the same thing every time, that he will kiss it better and the ache will go away, which it never does, you know you need him deep inside of you, you need his thick cock to caress and massage you in place his kisses won’t reach, and it frustrates you to tears that he doesn’t give you just that.

You lose yourself as he sucks and slurps on your clit, and if you’re lucky, he’ll lap the entrance of your achy hole, Satoru completely lost in the taste of your arousal and you’ll use this opportunity to grind your hips against his face harder, but to no avail, since he pulls back. Sometimes you’ll feel his tongue penetrate just the entrance before he goes back to sucking on your clit, and you can’t stop yourself from whining and whimpering. You know how good it feels to have him tongue fuck you, since he reserves for you that much relief on special occasions. He once fingered your achy vagina on your birthday, deep and hard. You came so hard and so much that day that you cried, and he had to hold you tight until you calmed down. You hold onto that memory dearly and you’ve never wanted your birthday to come sooner, hoping that he’ll give you that same experience again, but until then, all you get is his hot mouth in your clit, sucking you into a fit of orgasms so intense they make you violently shake and shiver. While he’s eating you out, you try and remember how his fingers felt inside of you, but it’s been so long that the memory fades a little with every passing day. You can still remember the delicious pain of the stretch of his middle and ring finger when he first shoved them into you and you’ve been craving to feel that ever since. You remember how they felt stroking your walls. You immediately reacted, holding onto him like your life depended on it as you cried out in pleasure right in his face. He makes you squirt often from simply eating you out, but his fingers inside of you made you squirt harder and more relentlessly, you came at his will and couldn’t control it and the way he spoke to you, coupled with his never ending thrusting digits drove you to a magical bliss you could never forget.

“Its not right for you to behave this way sweetheart. It’s unladylike and impure. I married a pure lady and I expect you to remain this way. That’s why I have to do this, so you don’t give in to this impurity. Please understand my love”, he says to you as he holds you tight in his arms after spanking you particularly hard, hushing you from crying and wetting his shirt. “B-but for h-how l-long?”, you ask in stuttered breaths. “Until I see fit”, he immediately answers, looking down at you with disapproval in his gorgeous cloudy, blue eyes and you quickly hide your face in his chest again crying even harder, his arms squeezing you tighter. Maybe if he actually made love to you with his dick like every other normal husband out there, you wouldn’t be such a horny mess and therefore, he wouldn’t have to spank you like this. You could even settle for his fingers. You just needed him inside of you.

Despite your burning and sensitive skin from being spanked good, he still spreads your cheeks apart to eat your little hole out the way you wish he’d eat out your vagina. You might whimper from the pain of his big hands gripping your sensitive skin to keep you open, but when his tongue, that you love so much, penetrates your tighter hole, you forget about the pain, scooting back onto him in hopes that he’ll go deeper, and for this hole, he does just what you need him to, shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you, with a rhythm hard enough to make you cum so good you have to try to crawl away from him. He doesn’t let you though and holds you in place as he continues to slurp and suck the rest of you, prolonging your orgasm until your begging him for a break. You love it when he eats your ass out. You love everything he does to you, and just wish he’d finally fuck you. You’d even let him fuck you in both holes and sometimes when you really really feel yourself on the brink on insanity, you promise him you won’t fuss and whine or complain if he does fuck you. He can fuck you as hard as he wants and you’ll take it, begging and pleading for him to make love to you and the longer you talk like that the more furious he gets, wrapping his hand around your neck in frustration. It takes him a moment to calm himself down, because when you beg him like an ill mannered whore, it angers him enough that he despreslty does want to fuck you. Fuck you until you’ll shut up and not ask for him like this again. You truly have balls to speak such filthy words to him and it’s times like this when the spankings leave you sobbing in his arms.

Please understand, he’s just obsessed with your purity and wants to stretched it out for as long as he desires, restricting himself to what he can do with the rest of your beautiful body and despite the teary meltdown you have after a punishment, you still thoroughly enjoy everything he does to you and look forward to it at every passing moment, especially when he holds and comforts you until you stop crying. You’re too ashamed to confide in any of your sisters or friends about your sexual feelings or even about what you’re experiencing, afraid that he will grow upset with you sharing such intimate details of your commitment to him with others. And he’s not interested in sharing his own dark desires with his peers, because he knows he’s fucked up in this regard. Other men take pleasure in sleeping with their wives, and even though he longs to feel that hot, liquidy, virgin tightness swallow him deep inside of you way more than you could ever imagine, he won’t allow himself to fuck you, becauses he’s much too eager to see you break down until you’re really behaving otherwise from how you were raised. only then will he finally fuck your, as a reward for allowing him to bring you to this point and he will make sure that it will feel better than his two fingers on your birthdays or his tongue that he fucks both your holes with when he’s feeling generous.You see, he’s had his eye on you long before his marriage date was even set and already discussed with his elders that it would be you and no one else. Since he first laid eyes on you until now, he grew an unatural, sick desire to break you until you were nothing near what your parents raised just for him. His desire scared him sometimes too, but it turned him on to a point where he’d come in his pants just thinking about it and the first time it happened, is when he knew he had to accept it.

You listen to your friends talk about their own experiences and it’s always a mission for you to hold your tongue, because even the way you feel is only for him and no one else to know. From all the squirming you do under extreme desire from not feeling satisfied with just his tongue work after he plays around with you, he leaves you with a good spanking before heading out to work. Bending you over his knee at the dinner table, or holding you close against him in the bathroom before he hops in the bathtub for you to wash him, generously showering each of your cheeks with hard smacks, your ass jiggling from the force, turning him on all over again as you cling to him, trying not to make too much noise from the fiery sting his hands cause you. Your ass never gets a break, because he does this to you almost every single day and each day feels ten times worse than the day before. He’ll give you a long break from his merciless punishments sometimes for your own relief of course. He’s not a heartless monster. He’s simply a man of tradition and takes disciplining his wife seriously, to “keep you pure and innocent just for him”, so even besides your shame, your fear towards him is freshly awakened after he spanks you, so you keep your mouth shut, and quietly go on about your day, patiently waiting for him to come back home to somewhat sedate the angry ache between your legs, silently praying to the gods that he might allow you to experience him fully tonight because you just don’t know how much longer you can go without doing something you might deeply regret. He can’t help but think about you wherever he goes, and today, he’s been smiling to himself about how much of a good girl you’ve been. He always forgives you for behaving like a whore, after all, he knows just how tough this is for you, it’s hard for him too. He’s thinking of surprising you with a nice dinner he plans on cooking himself and maybe he’ll fuck you just how you want him to, but only in your tight little asshole, and you’re going to endure it, just like you promised him you would.

[goldfades]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬) | nh¹³

౨ৎ ─ summary | you and nico have only been dating for 6 months but both of you are convinced you've found the one, and a certain theory proves you right.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | mention of doubt in relationships (not you and nico's ofc) and slight angst when it comes to ex's, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, tooth-rotting fluff u might just get diabetes 🥹

─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

─ ev's notes | i know this is SOOOO short but i still hope y'all enjoy! i love nico sm :( hes adorable :(((

You and Nico had been dating for almost 6 months and it has been nothing less of perfection, you'd never thought you'd meet someone who fit every single one of your boxes. He was handsome, tall but also very sweet, empathetic and mature. Before Nico, you had only dated self-involved assholes who only cared about their wants and needs.

Now, with Nico, everything felt different. He listened to you attentively, remembered all the little details you shared, and always made an effort to understand your perspective. His presence was calming, always making sure you were okay and somehow always knowing if you weren't, even if you insisted you were. Everything with Nico was effortless, you didn't have to try - you just knew.

Despite the love that enveloped your relationship, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that occasionally crept into your mind. It wasn't about Nico himself - he was everything you had ever wanted and more - but rather a lingering fear that somehow, someday, it might all come crashing down. Maybe it was the scars left behind by past boyfriends, the ghost of heartbreaks past whispering cautionary tales in your ear. Or maybe it was simply the vulnerability that comes with opening your heart to another person so completely, knowing that the possibility of pain exists alongside the promise of love.

Yet, with each passing day, Nico continued to prove himself worthy of your trust, erasing any doubts with his unwavering love. He showed you, time and time again, that he was different; that he was here to stay.

"And then I looked inside of the car, and it was what looked like a sixteen year old." Nico shook his head as he bit into his sandwich. "A sixteen year old with a damn Porsche, can you believe it?"

You chuckled at Nico's story, shaking your head in disbelief. "A sixteen-year-old with a Porsche? That's insane. How did can they even afford it?"

Nico laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have no idea. Must be nice to have such generous parents. My first car was my dad's old car, it was a really old Toyota Camry." Nico took a bite of sandwich before continuing, "I crashed it 3 times before getting my new car."

"Three times?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise. "And you're still alive to tell the tale?"

Nico chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I wasn't the best driver back then. It's a miracle that Camry held up. I learned my lesson, though. Now I drive like a grandparent."

"Oh, I know." You teased as you finally got your sandwich from the waitress, smiling up at her. "Thank you."

"Can you imagine crashing a Porsche? Imagine how much you'd have to spend fixing it." Nico shook his head as he looked at you.

"Crashing a Porsche? I can't even imagine affording one in the first place, let alone fixing it after a crash. That's a whole different level of stress." You shook your head as you took a bite of your sandwich.

Nico chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly. I'd rather stick to my reliable car. Besides, I've grown attached to it over the years. It's got character."

"Oh no, they put tomatoes in my sandwich." You gagged as you put down your sandwich, sighing.

"Wait, you don't like tomatoes?" Nico looked back at you in disbelief. "How do you not like tomatoes?"

You made a face, scrunching up your nose at the offending tomato slice. "I've just never been a fan. The texture, the taste – it's just not my thing." You began taking the tomatoes out from the sandwich.

Nico laughed, reaching across the table to grab the tomato slice from your plate. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to love tomatoes. Problem solved." He winked, placing the tomato on his own plate.

You laughed along with Nico. "God, they're disgusting."

Nico smirked, his dimple showing as he held up the tomato slice like a trophy. "More for me, then. Tomatoes are so good, especially in a sandwich."

You shook your head, feigning disgust. As you watched him enjoy the tomato slice with happiness, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest. He was so cute. "Well, you can take all the tomatoes you want from me."

Nico grinned, "oh, I will. Don't you worry."

"Oh wait." You watched him eat the tomato. "This is the Olive Theory!"

"What the hell is the Olive Theory?" Nico looked confused as you smiled, excited. "Aren't we talking about tomatoes?" He smiled at your excitement.

You laughed, nodding eagerly. "Yes, yes, but bear with me. So, you know how in 'How I Met Your Mother,' Marshall and Lily have the Olive Theory?"

Nico furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Vaguely. Something about olives?"

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, delighted that he was playing along. "So, the theory goes that Marshall hates olives, but Lily loves them. Whenever they order food, Marshall always gives his olives to Lily, and it's this little gesture of love and compatibility. The idea is that if one person hates olives and the other loves them, it's a sign of compatibility because it means you complement each other."

Nico's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ohh, I see where you're going with this. So, you hate tomatoes, but I love them. And I happily take them from you. It's like our own little Olive Theory."

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection for him.

Nico couldn't help but smile at you. You were so cute, he couldn't help but laugh at how excited you got. Nico's laughter filled the air, his smile reflecting the warmth in his heart. "You're adorable, you know that?"

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Well, I learned from the best," you teased, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Nico reached across the table, his hand finding yours as he squeezed it gently. "I mean it though, you're amazing. You're adorable when you get all excited about these little things, even if I don't understand half of the references you make."

You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "Well, that just means we have more opportunities for you to learn and for me to share all my references with you."

Nico's eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze. "Yeah and then I can teach you about hockey, it's perfect."

You smiled at Nico's suggestion. "I'd love that! Hockey lessons from the expert himself. Now people won't call me a puck bunny."

Nico grinned, his enthusiasm contagious. "You'll be a pro in no time. Maybe you could even join the team, who knows?"

"Maybe I'll even be captain."

Nico shook his head, "Nah that's kind of my job."

You laughed as you gazed at your boyfriend, a warm smile playing on your face. "Alright, Captain, I'll let you keep the title. But maybe I can be the team's official cheerleader?"

"Well you're already my cheerleader so that wouldn't work very well, would it?" Nico shrugged as you laughed and shook your head.

You couldn't help but laugh at Nico's response. "I guess you're right. Can't double up on roles, can we?"

Nico smirked, "No can do, princess. You're my lucky charm not the team's."

You nodded your head in faux understanding as you played along with Nico's words. "Right, right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good cus I need my good luck charm." Nico smiled, his eyes warm with affection as he squeezed your hand once again.

"And you'll always be mine." You replied, his words filled you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you squeezed his hand gently in return. As you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that no matter what happens, one thing remained: your love and support.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[starsxblazing]

Die Of A Broken Heart

Ask and you shall receive. Here is some pure heartbreaking angst to feed us masochists.

Summary: Azriel goes on a mission that should have been simple only for it to end in one of the worst ways possible.

Azriel x Reader

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You just got back last night and you’re exhausted.”

You watched your husband as he continued to get ready for his mission. It wasn’t really a mission at all unless one thought of the Hewn City that way. There were many that would call it such but to each their own. Azriel stopped his task of lacing his buckles together to give you a smile but when that didn’t seem to satisfy you, he pulled you into his arms in a tight embrace. 

“As soon as Cassian and I return, you will have me all to yourself,” he assured gently, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Try not to worry so much, love.”

You both admired and hated his work ethic. He was so loving, loyal, and devoted that he spread himself so thin but he was slowly making progress. Very, very slow progress but progress, nonetheless. The two of you had only been married for a few decades and it was as blissful as it could possibly be.

There had been an internal war within you when he had first started courting you. It was no secret that he wanted a mate, that all of the males wanted a mate. You had been hesitant in giving your heart to him because you knew that he had someone wonderful out there that the Mother had made just for him. 

What you hadn’t expected was a one sided mating bond. You had known since the night of your wedding but hadn’t been able to bring yourself to tell him. Azriel was always so loving and devoted to you that you didn’t have to question him. He assured you more times than you could count that even if his mate did miraculously appear, that he would still choose you. Since you knew that he was your mate, all of those worries had left your mind.

“But you still have to train your new spy for Spring Court,” you huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from him as he continued preparing.

“I have already told Rhys that it will have to wait.” He shot you a playful grin. “You are my priority. The female will still be there in another two weeks.”

“You, the amazing spymaster, are going to take an entire two weeks off?” you asked skeptically. “You are going to go insane with that much time off of work.”

“Actually,” he began, his voice dropping into that delicious seductiveness while he pushed you back into the wall. “I had every intention of keeping myself occupied in much more pleasurable ways.”

The hard length of him pressed into you, earning him a playful giggle. He simply pulled you into a deep kiss that left you both breathless only to do it again before he finally left with one last ‘I love you.’ You always hated to watch him go but knowing that he would be back later that night made it better. It also helped that you had a day planned with Nesta at the bookstore. 

“Did Cassian let anything slip about what they’re supposed to be doing?” you asked the female as you walked down the street.

“He was able to withstand my questioning, surprisingly,” Nesta huffed. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“Probably not,” you agreed.

You simply followed your friend throughout the stores, grabbing a few items for yourself before making your way to a nearby cafe. Nesta was relentless in getting you back into training so to appease her, you agreed. It was mostly because you missed the three females that you had made friends with but also because it would keep your mind busy once Azriel left again to train his new spy.

It was hours past time when your husband had promised that he would be home and it had you pacing a hole in the floor of your sitting room. This was the absolute worst part of being committed to someone with such an important job. Each time he was away from you, you prayed for his safety. That was exactly why you fell into a panicked frenzy when Rhys entered your mind to let you know that you were needed at Madja’s.

“What happened?” you demanded breathlessly, bursting into one of the healing rooms only to see a grumbling Azriel sitting up in the bed and holding his head.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Cassian waved it off dismissively despite the serious worry in his eyes. “He just took a hit to the head.”

“The culprit will have a fitting punishment,” Rhys assured when you went to open your mouth. “Take him home and watch over him.”

And so you did. It didn’t help that your husband was grumpier than usual, fussing and ensuring you that he could take care of himself. You weren’t convinced due to his slight stumble and how he continued to hold his bandage wrapped head. He all but fell face first into the bed and there was no way that you could leave him alone.

You awoke the next morning only to find Azriel’s side of the bed cold. It caused a deep frown to form on your face because he should be there. He was injured on top of promising to stay home. The very least that you had expected was for him to still be cuddled up to you since the sun could barely be seen in the sky. Even after searching the entire house, he was nowhere to be seen and not even his scent lingered in the air. 

In a sigh of defeat, you made your way to the House of Wind in hopes to find some answers. It was also empty up until you made it up to the training ring. Cassian, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were already there and beginning their warmups for the session.

“Finally come back to join us?” Cassian asked in a teasing voice but his eyes were wary.

“I was actually hoping to find my husband.” You almost tripped over the last word, almost revealing the secret that nobody else knew. “He promised that he would be home for the next two weeks.”

“He said something came up and training that new female was extremely important.” 

You eyed Cassian skeptically, noting that the general appeared uneasy with the topic of conversation. Something wasn’t right and your hand instinctively rubbed against your heart as if the bond was trying to tell you something. It was always there, always lingering and glowing brightly within you but it was dim today. Nesta, who seemed extremely in tune with you, pulled you into the ring with them, insisting that training would help but that dim light wouldn’t change your worry. There was something wrong if the strange new tug was any indication of it.

With nothing better to do, you relented and after warmups, you had a sword in hand. All three females had been training hard and it was a task to keep up with the high spirited Gwyn. You had always loved the priestess and the upbeat, determined energy that always buzzed around her.

You felt it just as soon as you blocked Gwyn’s attack. There was pain that tugged at your heart that caused you to stumble, earning a nice cut on your arm as you hit your knees. You were certain that a scream of pain, one that didn’t come from the new physical injury, left you but you were unaware of anything but the pain in your chest. It was sharp, as if a thousand daggers were piercing you all at once. 

A blinding heat then enveloped that same pain that had your head swimming. The bond that was there slowly dimmed further and you could almost see it. You could almost see the cord rip and shred, the feeling going straight into your chest. The burning paired with the sharpness continued until you could feel it through every fibre of your being where it settled into your very soul. It raged with an intensity that you knew had never been experienced by the world before.

Your heart stopped just as the last pieces of the bond shredded and broke before the blissful darkness took you.

Even in unconsciousness the pain didn’t stop. It felt like being tied to a spit and being turned over an open, blazing fire. The extreme heat didn’t stop and even after your mind began to clear, you were unable to open your eyes. It felt like you were dying from the inside out but muffled voices hit your ears, thankfully giving you something else to focus on.

“So you are telling me that your new spy is your mate?”

Rhys. That voice that was unmistakable and laced with frustration.

“It just happened, Rhys.”

Your husband. The one that was your mate that somehow had another mate. You searched inside of you and all that was left of the one sided bond were shredding sharp threads blowing in an openness of an unfamiliar void. Your mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening. You couldn’t understand.

“What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Those three whispered words felt like another knife to the heart, continuing to slice into your already shredded soul.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You have a wife that loves you! A wife that you have been happily in love with for decades!”

The quiet words of the High Lord were nearly a growl, obviously angry with his spymaster.

“She’s my mate, Rhys!” 

Your husband was attempting to defend himself as if the mating bond had finally taken over him completely.

“You just met this female. She is supposed to be your apprentice. Your student. Nothing more.”

Azriel truly had left you, while he was injured, only to find his mate. You wanted to cry but the pain, the heat, kept you from doing anything. 

“Well that’s not what happened.” 

“What is more, your wife fell in training and has been unconscious for days while in a pain that none of us can figure out while you have refused to come back because you have been with your mate!”

It was all that you needed to hear. Your worst fears that had been present before the bond had happened. He had been spending time with his mate all while you had been unconscious and in immense pain and hadn’t bothered to answer his High Lord’s attempts to reach him. You must have finally been able to move because you heard quick footsteps just before a familiar set of hands were wrapped around yours.

“Y/n.” Azriel’s pleading voice barely registered in your mind. “Please look at me.”

It felt wrong to do so but you did. You loved him with all that you were and it was now your downfall. There was such worry on his face and his eyes went wide at whatever he found or didn’t find on your face. Even through the blazing haze, you barely registered the deep concern and made you wondered why he cared all of a sudden.

“Are you alright?” It was Rhysand’s voice this time as he pushed the shadowsinger away from you. “How can I help?”

“I’ll be fine,” you rasped, your throat raw as if you had been screaming.

“You have been screaming,” Rhys confirmed in a gentle but quiet voice. “Let me help you.”

A growl came from behind you but you focused on those violet eyes that made you feel just the tiniest bit better.

“I just need my bed and some time.”

He nodded, seemingly determined to give you whatever you wanted.

It took two weeks for you to pull yourself together enough to present yourself somewhat normally. Azriel had stayed with you for a week before leaving for his next mission, leaving you at the House with Nesta and Cassian. You knew that it wasn’t a mission. They didn’t know that you had overheard the conversation and knew that your husband had a mate that wasn’t you. 

By the time that the third week had passed, Azriel came into your room and watched you cautiously. It had taken you that long since the bond broke to act like your normal self but the pain, the burning of your soul never stopped. The broken threads cut into you over and over with no way to stop it. You were sure that you were going mad and you only allowed yourself to succumb to it whenever you knew that you would be alone for a while.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He sat on the edge of the bed but didn’t move closer. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” you asked as casually as you could even though a piece of you knew what was coming.

“I found my mate,” he whispered.

“Oh.”

This time it came out as a broken whisper, your fear only fueling the flame inside of you. Your heart picked up a rapid pace in your chest and you were sure that it was going to explode if it didn’t stop.

“I need-” He swallowed hard, his eyes lining with tears. “I need to at least get to know her.”

“You promised me, Azriel,” you croaked. “Please.”

“Just give me three weeks, y/n. Please.”

“Az…” Your voice trailed off and you realized that there was no point in arguing. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Despite his voice sounding thick and desperate, he simply brushed a light kiss against your lips. Your heart continued to race in panic and that pain raged blindingly until it was dark once again.

Azriel felt horrible for leaving you because he had promised you for decades that he would never leave you. He promised that he would love you and only you for the rest of eternity and even though that would always be true, he had to be sure. No sooner than he was in the sky after leaping off of the balcony on the House of Wind, a pair of hands were around him and he was suddenly in his dungeon.

“What the hell, Rhysand?” he growled, frustrated and annoyed and Cassian and the two fae in the chairs barely caught his eye.

“I came back here with Cassian to continue the work that you should have done after being attacked and learned a great deal of information.”

“Like what?” he snapped, his feet shifting while he debated on winnowing away.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” the High Lord growled. “As it turns out, that blast of power that sent you flying into the wall and causing your concussion cursed you.”

That caused him a pause and he eyed the two males that he had met with.

“Your ‘mating bond’ is fake.”

“But-”

“Tell him,” Rhysand ordered the males, refusing to let him speak.

“The female- your wife- is your mate,” one bit out. “You are holding us back in this horrid place so we cursed you to be chained to another female so that you would move courts.”

Because he would. If his mate didn’t want to live in Night Court, he would follow her. He looked between his brothers who didn’t appear to have the first bit of sympathy for him. Rhysand obviously knew that he had just left you for his mate and didn’t care about his wishes any longer.

In his desperation to get back to you, to right his wrong and beg for your forgiveness, he began his methods. It didn’t take much to get them to break and the curse cured. In an instant, he no longer felt that fake mating bond but when he looked to his High Lord, he was pale and frozen in place.

“Let’s go.”

Rhysand grabbed both him and Cassian, winnowing them back into the House. They sprinted towards your room only to find Madja hovering over you, her face pale and grave when she looked at them.

“What’s happening?” he asked in a panic, running to your side and pulling your freezing cold hand into his.

“She’s dying.” Madja’s voice was just as grave as her face. “Her body is shutting down.”

“Y/n!” Azriel yelled, shaking you as much as he dared to try to get you to open your eyes.

Madja’s hand was over your heart, looking as if she was focusing extra hard on it.

“Her heart is beating too fast,” the female murmured. “I have no way to slow it.”

Panic overtook him entirely and he continued to shake you in desperation. Your lips had turned blue and there was no color to your face even though your chest rose and fell in an unhealthy rhythm. Finally, finally, you opened your eyes. There was no life there and the quick flicker of recognition was all that it took. A dim light simmered within him, a light wrapped around a simple thread that should have been tied to you. 

He followed it to the end only to find an endless void. That quick flicker of remembering him only lasted a second before your eyes closed again. 

Just as you closed your eyes and your chest came to a stop, the thin thread within him shredded apart.

He thought he heard himself scream, a scream of desperation and pain, as he felt like he had been set on fire. It was a heat that far surpassed the flames that had ruined the hands that you loved so much and he didn’t know if he could handle it. His wife, his mate, his true mate was gone and left shattered threads blowing in a new void in its wake. He couldn’t breathe as it felt like his heart was being shredded into pieces and it picked up its pace in his chest. It felt like he was about to implode.

And as the darkness pulled him closer, he realized what had been your fate and what would now be his. He realized what it was like to die of a broken heart.

Tag List:

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover

[st4rryrain]

Strawberry Lip Gloss (Logan Howlett x Reader)

Tags: fem!reader, age gap, ex-dancer!reader, probably ooc, worst!logan, post-deadpool x wolverine, some fluff if you squint, wade x vanessa

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Brought into a world so different yet so similar to his own, Logan can’t help but continue to keep himself guarded from emotional connection. That is until Wade and Vanessa introduce him to you.

A/N: First fanfic on here! First part of two and the next part is gonna be smut. Muehehe… Proofread but I probably missed stuff. Anyways, I hope I did a good job and you guys enjoy.

Logan didn’t like the idea of emotional connection. He hated knowing that one day, he would disappoint people. He hated knowing that if he got attached to someone, he could lose them and it was all for nothing. The impending doom that would wash over him whenever he had those small moments of happiness was overwhelming. Sometimes he’d wake up in a cold sweat, remembering his life before ending up in a new world. It haunted him like a restless ghost.

“If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to cut off your legs, bub.”

Logan and Wade were at a bar downtown. Logan hadn’t actually invited Wade, but he didn’t care whether or not he tagged along as long as he let him drink without making any insane remarks.

“What? I can’t ask you things?” Wade whined.

“Not when you ask about things that shouldn’t be asked. Ever.” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

Wade scoffed, “Oh please. Asking about someone’s dick size is not something that should never be asked!”

Logan sighed. So much for giving Wade the benefit of the doubt.

Wade looked down at his phone. “Vanessa should be here soon. She said she’s 5 minutes away.”

Logan groaned. “You invited your girlfriend?”

“Yes, actually! I did invite my girlfriend.”

“If I could kill myself, I would.” Logan mumbled before taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Hey! Vanessa is nice!”

“I’m not annoyed about that, dumbass. I’m annoyed that it means you two are probably going to get handsy in front of my whiskey and I.”

“Don’t worry, she’s bringing a friend for you to get handsy with, peanut.” Wade said while typing away on his phone.

Logan just sighed, unable to comprehend how he even puts up with Wade for a second.

After a few minutes, Vanessa and you walked into the bar. Vanessa gleamed with excitement as she embraced Wade. You simply stood behind her, awkwardly waiting for her to finish.

“Hi, Y/N!” Wade waved. “Long time no see. How’s my favorite original moody pookie bear?”

“Wade, last time I saw you, you almost got me killed. How do you think I’m doing?” You sounded incredibly annoyed and rightfully so.

“Well, nothing a few visits to a psychiatrist and a good trip to pound-town won’t fix!”

“Fuck you.”

“For a girl who looks like she sings to all the woodland creatures and picks cherries on a Sunday afternoon, you sure do have a lot of pent up violence in your body.”

Vanessa smiled as she found the interaction between her lover and you entertaining.

“Fuck, I forgot to introduce you to my new best bud here!” Wade excitedly said, “Y/N, this is Logan. Logan, this is Y/N. I think you guys would get along since you both hate me!” He was way more enthusiastic about it than he should be.

Logan and you met eyes. You gave a small smile. Logan didn’t seem very interested, only letting out a small hum.

Wade turned to Vanessa, “You wanna join me in the bathroom to make sure everything is following state laws?”

Vanessa smiled, “Of course.”

The two lovers scurried away, giddy as if they were teenagers.

You sat a seat away from Logan. “Every time…” You muttered.

Logan didn’t say anything. He faced forward and drank his whiskey. A few minutes passed, the air around you two awkward.

“I was told you’re from a different timeline.” You said, breaking the unbearable silence. “How are adjusting to this new world?”

Logan shrugged. “Fine.”

The silence returned. You sat there awkwardly, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Are you… a mutant?” You asked nervously.

“We don’t have to talk, you know? We can sit here and wait for the others to finish, bub.”

You looked down at the bar counter. “Sorry…”

Logan sighed, “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean for it to sound mean or anything.”

“Honestly, though… I get it. I’d be mean and angry all the time if I had to live with someone like Wade. Especially Wade.”

A small smile adorned Logan’s face. You smiled, feeling a sense of relief that you had lightened the mood.

“I’m convinced that he was dropped as a baby… multiple times.”

Logan chuckled. “He must keep getting dropped everyday if he’s this fucking annoying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“How come you let Vanessa drag you here? It doesn’t seem like you want to be here.”

You thought for a moment.

“I think I just wanted something to distract me since I’ve been feeling shitty.” You shifted in your seat. “I got broken up with like half a year ago.”

“You’re still hung up on someone from half a year ago?” Logan raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“I mean, I really liked the guy. We dated for a year and a half but things started falling apart when I wanted him to get more serious. I was putting my all into the relationship but he didn’t seem to want the same thing I did.”

“You look young, kid. How old are you?”

“I’m 24.”

“Guys your age are assholes. Those shitheads are like dogs. All they do is eat, shit, sleep, and go into heat.” He grumbled.

“Oh, trust me. I know.” You sighed. “I fucking hate dating guys my age. They always end up being immature and leave me with at least 10 different traumatic experiences.”

Silence once again fell upon you two.

“Holy fuck, those bastards are taking forever.” Logan said.

“Trust me, sometimes they’re gone for hours.”

“How’d you meet Vanessa?”

You blushed. You had started being a dancer at the tender age of 19. Freshly kicked out of your house, you felt like there was no other way. Luckily, you met Vanessa. An older sister figure who took care of you and even let you live with her for some time before you got up on your own two feet. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed about having been a dancer, you were more so annoyed by the constant comments that you “didn’t seem like the type”.

“I…” You toyed with your sleeves, “I met her when we were dancers at the same place. She took care of me and was there whenever I needed her.”

Logan hummed. “Cute.”

“Every time I tell people I used to be a dancer, I get told I don’t seem like the type. I don’t even know what they mean.”

Logan watches and listened to you ramble as you continued on about different things people have said over the years.

“Someone once told me I was too pretty to be a dancer! Like what kind of backhanded compliment is that?” You crossed your arms and rested them on the counter. “Fuck, I dunno.”

“You seem like a sweet girl, bub. I know a lot of dancers don’t do it because they wanted to, but because they needed the money. Was that the case?”

You nodded.

“Did you at least enjoy being one?”

“Fuck no. I hated all those people staring at me the way a hawk circles a critter. The things they’d say, do, and who knows what they thought.”

“I think you’re too sweet to be a dancer. Not saying you don’t or do seem like the type, but more so you didn’t deserve to do something you didn’t enjoy.”

You looked at Logan. He seemed sincere and understanding. A small smile formed on your lips.

“Thanks, Logan. Congrats on being the first outside person to not blame me.”

“Did you guys kiss yet?” A familiar voice asked as it got closer.

You and Logan turned, spotting Wade and Vanessa.

“Holy shit, did you guys survive a fucking bomb or something?” Logan noted how messy Vanessa’s hair was and how disheveled their clothes were.

“Oh we survived a fucking bomb, alright.” Wade smiled. “But seriously, have you two kissed yet?”

“Wade, don’t make me curb stomp you again.” You glared.

Logan turned to you. “You’ve curb stomped him before?”

“Oh yeah. Girl’s got some insane skills.” Vanessa laughed, finding the memory funny.

“You guys ready to go or should we let you guys use the bathroom too?” Wade wiggled his brows.

“I hope the dog shits on your bed.” Logan frowned.

The group exited the bar and parted ways for the time being. Wade continued prying Logan on what he thought of you. He would go on and on about his favorite memories with you like the many times you third wheeled for Vanessa and him, the time you got a new car and crashed it the following week, and the time you curb stomped him for one of the many times he almost got you killed.

Logan and you would frequently cross paths at Wade or Vanessa’s parties or while waiting for Wade and Vanessa to finish having sex somewhere like a restaurant or even the apartment bathroom.

To Logan’s dismay, he had grown very fond of you. You were sweet, smart, pretty, and weren’t afraid to speak your mind, especially when it came to Wade’s stupidity. Sometimes, he’d catch himself staring or hoping to see you or feeling a disgustingly fuzzy feeling in his chest at the thought of you. Wade and Vanessa could tell Logan and you had feelings for each other. The way you looked at each other and enjoyed each other’s company was endearing.

“I dunno how they can go on for so long.” You groaned as you and Logan stood outside in the hallway of the apartment.

“Surprised Al hasn’t kicked Wade out for it.” Logan leaned against the wall.

“Oh she’s tried.” You held Mary Puppins in your arms, not wanting her to bear witness to the sinful behavior taking place indoors.

Logan smiled, placing a hand on the dog’s head for a quick pet.

“Are you seeing anyone, Logan?”

Logan pauses. He stares off into the distance for a moment, contemplating whether or not to avoid the question.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

An almost deafening silence encapsulates you both.

“Do you want to love someone?” You asked as you held and lightly squished the dog’s paw.

Logan months ago would have said no. Hell, he would have said never. But Logan felt his attachment to you getting the better of him.

“Love isn’t for me, bub. I don’t think I can handle losing someone anymore.”

“Well that’s why you have to find someone who can’t handle losing you either.”

Logan and you looked to each other. You were staring up at him like you were waiting for something.

“You’re the sweetest little thing I’ve met, Y/N.” Logan leaned in a little.

“Only to people I love having around.”

“You deserve someone who will love you and take care of you. Someone who will worship the ground you walk on.”

You smiled shyly.

“A pretty little thing like you needs to be told everyday how perfect you are.”

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stroke my ego?” You joked.

“Can I, sweetheart?” Logan asked, his face inches away.

“Mhm.” You hummed as you leaned upward.

Logan pressed his lips against yours. Your lips were soft and almost addictive. Strawberry flavor peppered along them. You smelled of a delicate perfume and a pleasantly scented shampoo he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Logan cupped your cheek with a cold calloused hand, bringing you closer to his face.

“You do this with all the girls you sweet talk?” You mumbled into the kiss.

“Only the sweet ones named Y/N that I’m fond of.” Logan brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “I’ve only ever been fond of one sweet Y/N.”

You smiled as you parted lips. You’re a little winded from how eagerly he kissed you. It had been like a starving man finding a buffet.

“I’d really like to take you out, sweetheart.” Logan said. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Of course, Lo.”

The door to Wade’s apartment opened and he peeked into the hallway.

“Did you guys kiss yet?”

“Wade, go back inside before I turn your small intestine into a jump rope.” You snapped.

Wade smiled, “Oh you guys totally did.” He went back inside and closed the door, loudly informing Vanessa of his assumption.

“Can’t believe Mary Puppins was the witness to a real life rom-com.” You joked as you cradled the dog.

“More like a horror movie with Wade’s ugly fucking face.”

You, Logan, and Mary Puppins went back inside. You were immediately greeted with Vanessa and Wade smiling like crazy.

“What?” Logan asked.

“You guys kissed.” Wade replied.

“What?” Logan didn’t understand how Wade came to the conclusion. Sure he was right but how did he know?

“Oh don’t play coy with me, peanut. I see that lip gloss on you. You have never worn lip gloss and I doubt you ever will. You’re too afraid to ever serve cunt.”

You set down the dog and turned to Logan.

“Yeah… You do have some of my lip gloss. Sorry, Lo.” You said sheepishly, realizing you left evidence at the crime scene.

Vanessa giggled. “So you admit it!”

“Fucking finally. We didn’t know if you guys would end up even liking each other in that way. This took a lot of planning and a lot of coordination. Better than cupid.” Wade sounded proud of himself.

“You planned this?” Logan asked.

“Well, both of you seemed to want to love and be loved. You also had a common enemy of that being Wade. So Wade and I thought you two might be a good match.” Vanessa explained it with a huge smile that yelled ‘proud mother’.

“Whenever we left you two alone, he hoped you guys would do something. Anything!” Wade recalled.

“You guys weren’t leaving to have sex? You just hoped we’d flirt?” You asked, a little agitated for having to wait for them all those times.

“No. Most of the time, we actually did bang in a bathroom or car.”

“You guys are lucky your little scheme worked.” You crossed your arms and huffed.

“So when’s the wedding?”

“Wade!”

Logan took you out to a quaint little restaurant somewhere on the other side of the city. He paid for the meal despite you insisting you split the bill. He would hold your hand as you entered and exited the car as well as opening and closing the door. To say Logan was infatuated was a complete understatement.

“I don’t want to go back to that apartment with that annoying prick.” Logan complained as you sat in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot.

“We could go to my place.” You gave an alternative, hoping he would say yes.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

“Yeah! Just don’t mind my cat and you’re all good.”

“You have a cat?”

“Her name is Egg. She’s round like one.”

You and Logan drove to your small apartment in a small apartment building. The walls weren’t crumbling and the stairs weren’t on the verge of falling apart. Compared to Wade’s apartment building, this was luxurious.

“I’m home, Egg!” You greeted your feline as you walked through the door.

“Lock the door behind you, please.” You said as you set your things down.

Logan felt giant in your small apartment. It wasn’t that the ceiling was low or anything. He just felt so out of place in a cozy place where there were a few plants here and there, clean counters, and comfy furniture.

“This is Egg.” You picked up a white chubby feline with blue eyes. “She loves to sleep and is currently on a diet ‘cause the vet said she should stop being an egg.”

Logan smiled at her and reached his hand out to pet the cat. The cat seemed to just stare and move her head away from his hand.

“She’s not aggressive. She’s something worse… Judgmental.” You always found Egg’s reaction to people who weren’t you amusing.

You held one of Egg’s paws and playfully waved it, pretending that the cat was waving at Logan. You set the cat down and watched as she strutted away.

“Your cat has an attitude.”

You laughed, “She invented attitude. You should see her with Wade. Even she doesn’t like him to the point she tries clawing his face off.”

If staring was a competition, Logan would hold the world record for most staring at someone with heart eyes. Literally. His eyes were practically the shape of hearts.

“What? Is something on my face? Did I say something?” You asked, worried you may have embarrassed yourself in front of Logan.

Logan leaned down and kissed your lips. “Do you always have strawberry lip gloss on your lips?”

“I dunno, how about you find out and kiss me every time you see me.”

Logan seemed to really like the strawberry lip gloss you wore and almost started to devour your face. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you closer. He was starting to let his hands wander.

“Not in front of my child.” You protested. “She’s 3! Not even old enough to start kindergarten.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss. “Alright, doll.”

[zeezelweazel]

LOVED the last Leah smut it got me thinking would you be interested in writing something inspired by the new Dyson commercial that one scene where she's on her knees?

Leah Williamson| Sore Loser|

____________________________________________________

I know it's been a while since that commercial but... we were all thinking it don't lie

TW: strap on use, praise kink, mommy kink, light bondage, degradation, taking pictures during sex,

____________________________________________________

Your girlfriend is insanely competitive. Leah is always doing the most to win whenever there's any sort of competition. Especially when it comes to football. It doesn't matter if it's an important match or a friendly, Leah wants to win. But that's not how football works. Losing is a part of the game.

A part of the game Leah definitely doesn't know how to handle.

The skipper all but slapped your hand away when you went to her after the final whistle. You watched with a frown as she went straight for the tunnels, ignoring or snapping at anyone who tried to talk to her.

This is why the blonde is in this position right now. It's not a punishment, you know that's not what Leah needs, just a little something to help her forget about the match and arsenal's horrible performance.

"You look so pretty baby, taking my cock like a good slut."

Leah whines and tries to hide her face in her arms that are tied in front her. Your girlfriend always looked amazing from this view. Ass up, exposing her wet pussy for you to take, with her upper body pushed down on the bed. What makes it even better though is the gorgeous jersey she is currently wearing. It belongs to you with your number and your last name proudly printed on the back. You pull the fabric down a little bit, just to make sure that you can see your name clearly before you start slowly grinding your hips against Leah's.

You've teased the blonde quite a lot today and you're more than impressed with how well she's taken it. You've been completely still inside her for some time now, simply content on snapping pictures of her rather than actually fucking her. Leah is dripping, her juices smeared on her inner thighs and her muscles twitch pathetically at the slightest of movement.

You enjoy having her like this, when she's so desperate a single touch sends her into overdrive.

You rub the soft flesh of her ass appreciatively and hum in delight when Leah's breath hitches. The slow grind of your hips doesn't stop as you start to paw and squeeze at her ass and Leah whimpers and squirms. She mumbles something, her voice muffled by her hands. "I didn't hear you baby."

Leah throws a glance over her shoulder, her blue eyes full of desperate tears when they meet yours, and she whines needily.

"Please mommy, fuck me. I need you."

You grin menacingly when Leah finally begs like the sweet girl she is. You pull out all the way before slamming back in with a powerful thrust. Leah moans loudly and her head falls back down in between her tied hands. You go with slow but hard and deep thrusts making sure to hit all the spots that make her squeal and scream. You groan at the sight of the usually dominant captain on her knees for you moaning and whining like a whore and you pick up your phone once more this time angling the phone so you can capture her greedy cunt swallowing your strap. Leah clenches hard around the strap when she hears the clicking sound of your phone's camera and you smirk down at her.

"God you're such a pathetic slut for mommy." Leah doesn't answer but you don't expect her too, the blonde's brain so high on pleasure that the only thing she can do is moan and scream for you. After you put your phone down you rub over her clit with your free hand and thrashes against the soft sheets of the bed.

"Oh god! Please mommy I wanna come!"

You offer nothing but a chuckle at Leah's pleas as you continue to pound her into the mattress mercilessly. You feel Leah's clit throb against your fingers and you push her head against the sheets when the blonde starts begging again. Leah gets the message and shuts up, hoping that she can hold on long enough because the last thing she wants is to come without permission. You feel the other end of the strap pushing deep in you and you chase your own high, forgetting about Leah for a while.

You groan and grip Leah's hips tightly while your hips stutter and your pace turns fast and sloppy. "You're so fucking tight baby. I'm gonna to come. You want mommy to come inside your pretty cunt?"

"Yes, please!"

You moan quietly and topple over leah as you feel your orgasm approach quickly. Leah on the other hand couldn't fight back her tears. She was bitting her lip hard trying not to come, she oh so desperately wants to be a good girl for you. You take a while to gather yourself after you come. When you do you turn your head towards Leah, moving her hair away from her face and you coo when you notice the tear tracks on her cheeks. You press chaste kisses on her skin and rub her clit again. Leah moans and grinds her hips down on your hand. You pull back to focus on your thrusts not wanting to tease Leah any longer.

"Come for me pretty girl. I know you want to."

Leah comes with a scream after a few seconds but you don't stop your movements, helping Leah ride out her high. After a few minutes of pressing soft kisses all over Leah's face you pull out slowly.

You always feel bad whenever Leah looses a match. Mainly because of how sad she gets. But when you think about how she lets you ravish her after you secretly hope arsenal looses every game.

____________________________________________________

[jinwoosungs]

08/03/24; 09:45pm

sung jinwoo x fem.reader

{ 18+ thirst post - oneshot; p-rn with no plot ]

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

when you said that you had every intention of riding sung jinwoo for the sole purpose of milking him for all he was worth-

you meant it.

the squelching sounds of your lovemaking were all that can be heard across the room. and the sheets that cling to your bed had long since been ruined, with the bed creaking in tune to your eager bounces as you came down over and over again on jinwoo’s massive cock.

“hah…”

pants were heard coming from your parted lips as jinwoo worked on bouncing you up and down his dick while meeting your thrusts by angling his hips upwards. “fuck, that’s it…” your name comes out as broken syllables, with his grunts mixing in with your whines as you kept riding him with a reckless abandon.

feeling you lose all of your senses, you brace yourself against his chest, gasping before quickening your pace, making the hunter cry out from beneath you.

“oh, FUCK!”

just the mere sight of you taking him so eagerly was almost too much for jinwoo to bear, and he knows it won't be long before he reaches another explosive climax. for now, he simply relishes in the incredible sensation of being filled and used by you-

the woman he loves.

you hear the way he loudly curses in response to you riding him, letting out a breathless giggle before deciding to tease him a bit, “you like the feeling of my pussy wrapped around you like this? so wet and ready for you?”

jinwoo lets out a deep, guttural moan as your words hit him square in the groin. your sultry tone combined with the slick sounds of your bodies colliding had him on edge, craving more of your sweet heat. “oh god... yes," he groans, thrusting upwards to meet her downward strokes. “your pussy is so perfect for my cock- so tight and warm.”

his hands move from your hips to cup at your breasts, squeezing them gently as he continues watching you bounce on him. each movement sends waves of pleasure rippling through him, making him wonder if he'll ever get enough of this intoxicating entanglement. his grey eyes, now eclipsed with pure and utter desire for you lands on the movements of your bouncing breasts, making him let out a groan when he leans upwards to place your hardened nipples into his mouth. he shamelessly curls his tongue around your bud, sucking like a man starved as he could feel your hands suddenly gripping at his hair in response.

your back immediately arches, your movements growing more and more erratic when you tell him, “this feels so fucking good…! i-i am going to give you a-a million babies…! FUCK!”

upon hearing your declaration, jinwoo stops sucking at your breasts with an audible pop! eyes nearly rolling back in his head from the sheer intensity of pleasure coursing through him. the thought of filling your womb with countless offspring, each and every one of them bearing a piece of his essence, was almost too much to take in.

“a million...?" he repeats breathlessly, laying back to get a better glimpse of you still bouncing up and down his cock. with a grunt, he lifts up a hand to harshly grip on your breasts, feeling your walls tightening oh so sweetly around him as he struggles to maintain control. “f-fuck, my love... that's... that's insane..."

but even as he speaks, he can feel his resolve crumbling, his body responding instinctively to your provocative words. he gives you a few moments of freedom before letting out a primal growl, making you gasp when he flips you over onto your back against the mattress, pinning you beneath him as he drives into your aching cunt with a renewed vigor.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, with jinwoo pistoning his hips wildly in and out of you, feeling your walls clenching around him as he let out a roar of your name in response.

jinwoo’s vision blurs as your scorching heat engulfs him once more, your slick walls clenching around his throbbing length. the sensation of your juices coating every inch of his cock is almost overwhelming, sending jolts of red hot pleasure straight to his core.

"shit...!" he cries out, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm as he loses himself in the intense friction. “you cunt is... fuck…! it's milking my dick!"

with each powerful thrust, he can feel his orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter until it threatens to consume him whole. but he refuses to let go, determined to prolong this blissful torment for as long as possible-

all for your sake alone-

by now, you were a sobbing mess. your mind going blank as you could only feel the way jinwoo’s thrusts his cock in and out of you at a breakneck pace. you claw at the sheets while begging him, “please please please let me milk you dry! spill yourself into me…!”

jinwoo's eyes snap open at your desperate plea, locking onto your hazy gaze with an intensity that steals his breath away. in that moment, he realizes just how much power you held over him-

the ability to reduce him to a mere, quivering mess with nothing more than just a few choice words.

"yes... fuck yes!" he roars, slamming into you with abandon as his climax barrels towards him like a freight train, making the bed violently creak in response to his movements, “take it all... every last drop!"

with a final, shuddering thrust, he buries himself balls deep inside you, his cock pulsating violently as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed directly into your waiting womb.

“OH GOD JINWOO!”

you cried out to him, your moans echoing throughout the room with your back still arched against the bed. “yes yes yes, your sweet fucking seed… i need it, i need it so much…!”

the shadow monarch can barely form coherent thoughts as your ecstatic cries fill his ears, your inner walls spasming around his still throbbing cock. his entire focus is centered on the hedonistic sensation of your sweet pussy clamping down on him, milking him for every last drop.

“that's it... take it all..." he pants heavily, pressing kisses along her neck while he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. “let my cum fill you up... make you mine all over again."

despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, he remains conscious enough to ensure that every spurt of his semen lands directly where it needs to-

deep within your womb.

after all, jinwoo was a possessive and jealous man, wanting nothing more than to mark you in ways that no other man could ever even hope to replicate.

after feeling the way his cock continuously twitches inside of your slick heat, the sensation of his cum mixing with your own release pushes him over the edge, and he collapses atop you, completely and utterly spent.

your hearts were still racing coupled along with your bodies being coated in a thin sheen of sweat. the air was filled with the lingering scent of your copulation, yet neither of you seemed to mind. when the post, lovemaking quality kicks in, jinwoo was the first to move, keeping his limp cock still buried inside of you as he rests his head against the palm of his hand.

“that was… incredible. you were incredible.” jinwoo speaks to you in a bit of a breathless tone, eyes gazing at you with a reverence that makes your heart fill with pure love and affection for him. letting out a dreamy sigh of his name, you allow jinwoo to lean down and fully kiss you, basking in the aftershocks of pleasure when you bring him even closer to you.

however, just as you were distracted with his kisses, you were unaware of how his large hand was already making its descent on your hips, making you gasp when you felt him (quite literally) growing from deep inside of you.

“jinwoo- oh my god…” your words become lost to a broken moan now, being subjected to jinwoo’s wolfish grin as he proceeds to ram his hips into you, his erection quickly reappearing and disappearing inside of you, fucking you into your shared bed as he grabs a hold of your leg and tosses it over his shoulder. pressing a kiss against your ankle, you watch as jinwoo’s eyes darken once more when he tells you,

“now, it’s my turn to have some fun. let’s see just how many times i can make you cum before morning begins.”

end notes: i am one thirsty girl…. i need jinwoo…. more than i need air at this point 🫠🫠🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[band--psycho]

Sylus x Reader x Zayne- Birthday Surprises (SYLUS)

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms

Part 2

Main Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Don't worry there are going to be multiple parts to this story!

Warnings: Possesive and Obsessive Sylus, Love Triangle, Complicated feelings, Sexual tension, Choking (Minors DNI)

Sylus was used to an unusual sleeping pattern; even having nights where he barely slept at all. 

But dreaming whilst he was sleeping….that was something entirely new. 

The first time it happened, he thought for a brief moment that you were really with him, that was until he looked at the empty side of his bed. 

He hated how his heart ached at the realisation that you were only a dream.

He thought that it was a one time thing, until he dreamt of you again the following night. 

He’d never dreamed before. 

Not really. 

Not until he met you. 

Then he couldn’t seem to stop. 

Whenever he would close his eyes and allow the darkness of sleep to take a hold of him, you would always show up. 

Sometimes you’d be talking to him about work; sometimes he’d hear the echo of your laugh in his mind and sometimes you were just simply sitting in a park with a book in your hand…

It was driving him insane, how much he missed you, how much he craved to hear your laugh, or yearned to see your smile…he felt like a lovestruck teenager.

And he both loved and hated it. 

He spent the next two weeks like this; he tried not to think about you, but it seemed the harder he tried, the more unsuccessful he was. 

He just couldn’t get you out of his head.

That’s when he knew he needed to see you…He knew he had to be careful, he couldn’t just waltz up to you outside of the Association and talk to you. 

But the second he laid eyes on you; he knew he couldn’t turn back. 

He had to see you today. 

And it was perfect because today was your birthday; if ever there was a day to surprise you, it was today. 

But his little plan started slowly falling apart when he saw you laughing because of something a dark haired man had said; it made his blood boil in his veins. 

He thought about using his evol to just pull you towards him; but they could arouse suspicion, especially from the man you seemed to be so friendly with. 

“Boss?” Luke asked from the driving seat; it was obvious to the twins who were sitting in the front of the car that they were going to be following you, but doing so was risky, if they were caught, it wouldn’t just endanger them but you as well. 

“Follow her,” Sylus’ baritone voice ordered. 

Luke nodded obediently, putting his foot on the accelerator a little, knowing that he had to keep enough distance between you and the car that neither you nor your new friend would get concerned;  but close enough that they wouldn’t lose you.

~~~~~~

After about thirty minutes, they were down the road from your apartment; the apartment that you and the mysterious man you were with had disappeared into. 

Sylus was leaning with his arm resting on the door armrest;  his lips pursed in a thin line as he continued sitting in his car, staring out the window, waiting for the man to leave your apartment so he could talk to you without any disruption. 

Sylus wasn’t sure how much time had passed until he saw a raven haired man leave your building; but in all honesty he didn’t care. 

As soon as the man was out of sight; he wasted no time in exiting his car and heading to your apartment and knocking on your door.

“Zayne, how do you always manage to forget your glasses,” he heard you call out from behind the door; hearing footsteps hurriedly rush towards the door; making a rage course through Sylus’ veins. 

Zayne? 

So that was the name of the man she was with.

“Sorry to disappoint you sweetie,” Sylus said with a hoarse voice that sent a chill down your spine, as you opened the door, puzzlement written all over your face. 

“Sylus?” You questioned; confused by what the hell he was doing here, especially today. 

“The one and only,” he smirked, “aren’t you going to invite me in?”

You were tempted to slam the door in his face; but you knew how stubborn Sylus was, knew that even if you did that, he’d still be outside your apartment tomorrow morning, and that would just put the both of you at risk. 

So you moved out of the way, allowing him entry to your home before quickly closing the door behind. 

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, folding your arms as you stared at him.

“Can’t I just drop by and pay you a visit on your birthday?” He replied, as though him being here was the most normal thing in the world when in reality it was anything but. 

“No,” you answered bluntly, you didn’t have time for this, you were meant to be meeting Zayne and a few people from work for drinks in a few hours.

If you were late, they’d have questions, if you didn’t show up, they’d worry. 

“Tsk, if I were a lesser man your words would wound me, sweetie,” Sylus retorted back making you roll your eyes: 

You didn’t have time for this.

But you also couldn’t shake the curiosity that piqued in your mind about why he was actually here. 

You hadn’t seen him since he gave you a lift back to Linkon City in his private helicopter a few months ago. 

You’d texted him a few times, but never got a reply so you just assumed he wasn’t interested in being friends (or more) anymore.

You’re not ashamed to admit that it broke your heart a little; you weren’t in love with Sylus, but you knew that you could’ve…

And being ghosted like that when you thought the two of you understood one another, hurt. 

But your slightly cracked heart healed; it was after this that you and Zayne grew closer. 

“Sylus, please just leave,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

Why was he doing this? 

Today of all days. 

“That’s a nice necklace, ” Sylus deflected your plea, reaching out and lifting the necklace off of your chest, allowing him to look at it more closely, “Where did you get it from?”

“It was a gift,” you breathed, trying to ignore how even the slightest touch of his fingers brushing against your skin, made you feel weak at the knees..

“From Zayne?” 

Jealousy laced his words and darkened his eyes. 

Jealousy was an emotion you’d never seen in Sylus before, but you couldn’t deny that something inside you loved seeing him like that. 

“If you must know, yes,” you responded; memories of when Zayne gave you this breathtaking gift a few moments ago, making your head spin. 

Sylus hooked his forefinger under your chin, dropping the necklace he’d been carefully holding, allowing it to fall onto your chest, “Is he your boyfriend?” 

How could you answer such a complex question? 

And how did he have the nerve to be asking it?

Sylus wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your friend, he was just someone that you last saw months ago…someone that made you want to disregard all sense of logic…

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you bit back; earning a snarl from Sylus in response. 

Your relationship with Zayne was complicated; you two would spend time together whenever you could around work,  and you would always look forward to spending time with him. 

He made your heart feel warm and fuzzy, something that you’d never felt for anyone before. 

But you were not a couple….though the words that fell from his lips before he left your apartment were still racing through your mind, making you think that tonight, that was about to change. 

“Everything you do is my business,” he growled, moving his hand from your chin and down your neck, wrapping his hand around it lightly. 

“My business is my own, who I see in my own apartment, has nothing to do with you,” you countered; trying not to ignore how turned on you were by how his hand was wrapped around your throat, or by how close he was to you…. 

You felt his grip tighten slightly around his throat at your rebuttal, “It has everything to do with me.” 

“You’re crazy,” you choked out.

And so were you, for letting him touch you like this. 

You should’ve pushed him away…but you couldn't bring yourself to do so. 

“About you, yes I am, and sweetie, I have no problem denying it,” he confessed, brushing his lips against your cheek, “I’ve dreamt about you. Nearly every night for the last two weeks,”

“You dream?”

His admission caught you off guard, you’d never expected Sylus to dream about anything, least of all about you.

“Never,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Not once,” this time the kiss he left was on the corner of your mouth, you could feel how shallow your breath was getting with every second that passed. 

“Not until you,” his lips were hovering inches away from yours now,“And it’s driving me insane,”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you hated how shaky your voice sounded. 

What were you doing?

This was insane….

Were you really about to do this? 

Were you really about to do this with him?

Neither of you got a chance to say another word before there was a knock at the door; the sudden sound pulled you back to reality, and you pushed Sylus away, quickly.

“Don’t answer it,” Sylus whispered, grabbing your wrist, “You look so flustered right now,” 

You hated that he was right; you needed to take a minute to collect yourself; but that was hard to do when Sylus was still here. 

He was still here! 

He couldn’t be here. 

What if it was Tara at the door….or Zayne…

Zayne….

You felt your heart sink as you thought of him…

Your head was all over the place.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” You heard the all too familiar voice of your doctor ask through the door. 

You shot a glare at Sylus who was still holding your wrist with a smirk. 

“Hide in there,” you said, pushing him towards the coat closet by your door.

“We’re not finished here, sweetie, just remember that,” were the last words he said before he vanished into the closet.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @fangirlsfandomsss @book-dragon03 @ollieneedsamilkshake @ladyparamount @hotdogcookie @kisukiis @deathkat657 @the-slytherin-poet @evilldentists @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @sunshineotaku

[faithshouseofchaos]

“My sweet girl” — Modern Au Aemond Targaryen x Fem!reader

3k words Warnings — slightly smutty cock warming 🤭 praise

@moss-on-tmblr

Request — Okay, modern aemond. Kings and queens obviously still exist, so he's still a prince. Vhagar being an old tabby cat just makes sense to me, I don't know why. But I'm thinking reader wakes up one morning without him, starting to vaguely panic, goes a bit mental at a servant who tries to tell them to calm down or something but when they find him, he's like tucked in a cosy corner of the library with all his old books like "I've been here since 4am" type vibe. Depending on how spice you feel, he could comfort them with cocowarming while he continues to read?

Something was off. You were cold, not warm like you usually were patting at the spot on the bed that Aemond occupied was cold. Even Vhagar the grumpy old orange tabby cat was gone. Sitting up in bed you reached over looking at the time it was seven in the morning. It wasn’t like Aemond. They got up out of bed in the morning not without you and if he had to get up he’d always kiss you on the forehead and then he would leave a note.

You slowly started to panic, and a servant entered your bedroom to clean your room. “Morning Miss.” The servant spoke. “ Have you seen My fiancé?” You inquired. “ I have not.” The servant spoke bluntly. “ I’m worried.” You said. “I’m sure he’s fine.” The servant said. “ Where is Vhagar?” You questioned. “I have no idea.” The servant spoke. “ I’m going to look for him.” You spoke starting to pace.

The servant was rather annoyed and rolled their eyes, not understanding your panic. “I assure you ma’am, he is not a child. He can take care of himself.” The servant said, watching you pace as there was work to be done and you were in the way.

“But it’s not like him to disappear like this! We went to bed together last night and he wasn’t next to me this morning!” You exclaimed, worry taking over as Vhagar wasn’t around either. “Do you think someone broke in?” You mumbled to yourself. The servant looked at you like you were insane.

“No one broke in Miss.” The servant said, trying to assure you, but it did nothing as you were still worried. You decided it was best to not annoy the servant more and you stormed out of your bedroom in search of your fiancé.

The halls of the castle were silent this time of morning, which made you more nervous as you searched the kitchen and the dining room and he wasn’t there, there was only one place you could think of that he would be. The library.

As soon as you began to make your way through the halls to the library you began to run. Your feet took you fast as you couldn’t wait to see his familiar white locks in the library. You came to a stop in front of the door to the library and you took a breath trying to calm yourself before pushing the door open.

There as expected in a cozy corner sat Aemond, feet tucked in under him as he sat in a wide armchair with a book in his hands. Vhagar lay on his lap purring loudly, Aemond looked up in surprise. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come in yet.

Aemond’s lips pulled into a smirk when his eye landed on you. You were out of breath from running and he was the cause. “You’re a wreck, how adorable.” He teased lightly. You were still out of breath but you were so happy to see him, he was alive and well. “Where were you?” You breathed out, still catching your breath. He chuckled as Vhagar opened her eyes and hopped off of his lap to stretch before leaving the library to go lounge somewhere else.

“Here.” He spoke simply, he marked his page and closed the book, placing it on his lap. “Come here.” Aemond motioned for you to come closer and sit in his lap which you did without hesitation. You sat sideways on his lap, his arm immediately going around your waist and pulling you closer. “You worry too much, sweet girl.” He mumbled as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t disappear like that again without leaving a note.” You mumbled burying your head in his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He chuckled and his hand started to card through your hair, he placed another kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry sweet girl, I had planned to leave you a note but I got distracted. I didn’t mean to worry you this much.” He mumbled placing yet another kiss on the top of your head, holding you close against him. A habit he had grown to find comfort in. “Distracted with one of your books?” You mumbled against his neck, one of your hands going up and playing with the hair on the back of his neck. He hummed in response and leaned his head back against the armchair.

“They are my comfort.” He mumbled as his eyes closed, enjoying your hand playing with the hair on the back of his head. He found it quite relaxing. “But none of them are more relaxing than you sweet girl.” He spoke, his fingers tracing small shapes on your back through the fabric of your night clothes.

The feeling of his fingers tracing shapes on your back made you shiver lightly, his touch was always so gentle and caring but at times it could be rough as well. You pulled your head up from his neck looking at him. “I don’t know how you function off of 3 hours of sleep.” You mumbled looking at the slightly dark circles under his good eye. He opened his eyes to look at you, and a fond smile formed on his face as he looked at you. “I don’t know how I function either, but it’s worth it.” He spoke, one of his hands lifted and traced its way across your jawline to come to rest on your chin as his thumb traced the curve of your bottom lip.

“Worth it? How is it worth it?” You mumbled as you subconsciously pouted your lips against the tip of his thumb. He chuckled lightly and the thumb of his other hand that rested on your back started to toy with the fabric of your nightgown, slowly sliding it up your thigh.

“If it means I get time to myself to read and if I get to have you in my lap afterward like this, I say it’s worth missing a few days of sleep.” He mumbled, his hand continued to slide up your thigh until his fingers met the edge of your undergarments. “You’re ridiculous.” You mumbled, leaning forward and resting your chin on his shoulder. Your breath hitched slightly when his fingers found the edge of your undergarments, tracing small shapes on the sensitive skin of your thigh.

Aemond hummed his fingers playing along the edge of your undergarments, his fingers getting closer and closer to the heat of your core. “Ridiculous? Is that any way to speak to your fiancé, sweet girl?” He mumbled before nipping at the skin of your shoulder. A small gasp left your lips as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder. “You deserve it.” You mumbled, your head tilting slightly to give him better access. His other hand on your back began to toy with the waistband of your undergarments.

Aemond let a smirk form on his face as he nipped and licked the sensitive skin of your shoulder, his teeth and tongue working to give you the beginnings of a deep red bruise. “Is that so?” He mumbled against your shoulder, his fingers teasing just under the waistband of your undergarments. “Yes.” You mumbled gripping the fabric of his shirt, his tongue and teeth working in unison to bruise your shoulder, you were sure it would be a dark red hickey by the time he was done. He hummed against your shoulder his fingers pulling at the waistband of your undergarments, pulling them down slightly letting his fingers brush against where you were sensitive. You let your head fall forward to his shoulder, your face buried in his neck as your hot breath hit his skin. “Aemond.” You mumbled his name quietly when his fingers brushed against where you were sensitive.

He hummed in response, his fingers not stopping their movements. “You’re being quieter than usual, I need you to use your words, darling girl.” He mumbled, his fingers continuing to tease and slowly slide your undergarments further down. You didn’t respond, only letting a quiet small whine slip from your lips against his neck. He hummed, his hand on your thigh squeezing the skin gently. “Sweet girl, if you don’t use your words I’m going to have to punish you.” He mumbled against your ear, you could feel his smirk on the skin of your ear.

A shiver ran down your spine as his breath and his words hit your ear, you pulled yourself away from his neck to look at him. “Please.” You mumbled quietly, your voice barely a whisper as you looked at him, the need and the heat in your eyes. He smirked at the slight need in your eyes, the pleading look on your face. “Please what?” He mumbled teasingly, his fingers still moving against your skin. He was still going to need more than a please. Your mind was going foggy but you still had a slight bit of clarity. “Please, I need you.” You mumbled quietly. The slight begging in your words were evident, the fog in your mind was slowly taking over but the need to have him was stronger than your stubborn nature. He smiled at the need and the begging in your voice.

“You need me do you?” He teased a little, he was enjoying how desperate for him you were. “You’re going to have to be more specific about what you need, sweet girl.” He spoke, his fingers still gently toying with you. Aemond hummed in approval and smirked at the sound of you begging. “That’s a good girl.” He mumbled, he wanted to take his time with you but he wasn’t going to deny you. “I love it when you beg for me.” He mumbled his fingers moving along your skin. Another shiver went down your spine as his fingers became faster on your skin, you buried your head in his neck again not trusting your ability to not moan out loudly if you left your head up. You began to bite and lick at his skin, being sure to leave hickeys on his skin.

Aemond’s breath hitched as your teeth and tongue worked on his skin which gave you the perfect opportunity to mark him. He hummed and groaned quietly as you continued your work on his now marked skin. “What a naughty little thing you are.” He mumbled against your ear.

Aemond patted the side of your bare thigh twice asking you to lift your hips up so he could free himself from the confines of his pants. You lifted your hips up at his command, doing whatever he requested without hesitation. You were getting too impatient for your own good as you knew that Aemond loved to take his time. The haze of heat that was overcoming your mind didn’t help either, only encouraging your impatience.

Aemond unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his eye trained on your face the whole time. He hummed slightly when he was free from the confines of his pants and he immediately pulled you back down onto his lap. His fingers were quick to find your heat, slowly circling around it. “Look at you, sweet girl. So needy and impatient.” He mumbled in your ear. You buried your face in his neck, his length feeling good against your heat. You couldn’t help the small whine that escaped your lips as he lined the tip of his length up with your entrance sinking down onto him, your hips rocked forward to press against him slightly searching for more friction.

“Please.” You mumbled against his neck yet again.“Ah ah ah.” Aemond chided, he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling your hips away from him. “Good girls are patient, sweet girl.” He murmured, He hummed at your desperate whine, that was the sound he loved to hear from you, needing him. You groaned in frustration, your hips still desperately trying to rock forward for some friction but his arm around you prevented your movements.

“Please, I can’t.” You whined against his neck, your face still buried in his neck. Your hips were desperate, wanting nothing more than the feeling of him against you. Aemond let a smirk form on your neck, he hummed in disapproval as his fingers stilled against your heat which had you whining in protest. “You can, and you will. You’ll be a good girl and you won’t move those hips of yours.” He commanded, his tone firm but his voice still gentle. You groaned again in protest but you stilled your hip as you didn’t want to disappoint him. “Such a good girl for me.” He mumbled in your ear “So obedient for me, sweet girl.” his praises always made your stomach flutter and your knees felt weak. “Only for you.”

“That’s right, all mine.” He mumbled, “will you here and keep me warm while I continue reading my sweet girl?” Aemond asked. You nodded against his neck, your mind too fogged to put together a coherent sentence. You were still desperate for friction and the desire to grind against him was there and getting harder to resist. But you wanted to be good for him. “Yes, I’ll be a good girl.” You mumbled.

“Yes, you will be.” He mumbled, still continuing the slow pace of his fingers against your heat. “I want you to sit here, and be a pretty little thing while I continue reading. Can you do that for me sweet girl?” He questioned, he was making sure you agreed to this. You let a whine escape your lips, your breath hot against his neck as you nodded your head in agreement. “I’ll be good.” You repeated the words, desperate to please him. The heat in your body still flared and the desire to grind against him was only getting stronger while your need to be a good girl was growing aswell.

A hum of approval left his mouth at your words as he removed his fingers from you. You let a quiet whine at the loss of his fingers against you, the desire growing stronger. He reached over and grabbed the discarded book from his lap and began to settle back. Aemond positioned you on his lap so that you could see the page of the book he was reading and he wrapped his arm across your stomach, making sure you couldn’t move from your spot. You watched as he settled back in his seat with you still on his lap and you quickly realized you were stuck, your hips still desired friction and the heat between your legs that Aemond himself had built was still there. Your body wanted to squirm and press against him but Aem was strong, much stronger than you. “Stop squirming.” Aemond commanded. “Sit still.”

You let a whine escape your lips, your body still ached for any kind of friction but his arm was still tight around your stomach. “But.. but..” You tried to protest but you had no words, you were in too much of a fog to make real sentences. “Shh. Be quiet and sit still, sweet girl.” Aemond mumbled against your ear. You continued to whine for a few moments more desperate to have some sort of friction but slowly your body started to calm down. The desire to be a good girl for Aemond was stronger, you knew that you would be rewarded for behaving. You stopped your squirming and your whines quieted down, you were being a good girl just like Aemond wanted. “There’s a good girl, quiet now.” Aemond mumbled against your ear, pleased that you were behaving.

Aemond hummed approval and gave your thigh a light squeeze, pleased with your obedience. He relaxed back into the armchair, his arm still around your waist keeping you in place. He began reading the book again, his breath hot against your ear as he read. You laid against his chest, your body still needy with desire but you were being a good girl.