#and idk i just had such a good time and i did not anticipate that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nadvs · 2 months

Text

cam girl (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

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You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.

When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.

Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.

You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.

Rafe: sore?

You reply: as fuck.

Rafe: you loved it

You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.

You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.

You reply: so did you

Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: send an ass pic

You: are you always horny?

Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard

You: and i’m the needy one… lmao

Rafe: are u sending it or not

You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.

The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.

Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.

Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.

You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.

You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.

But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.

Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.

You text: wish u were here?

Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night

You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…

Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you

You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.

maybe, you reply.

Rafe: you took my cock so good

You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.

You: show me it

Rafe: you’d like that huh

You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it

Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick

You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.

You: what? i can’t tease you too?

Rafe: no

You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it

Rafe: only good girls deserve it

You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that

Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night

He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.

Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.

Rafe: ???

You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening

He only texts your name.

You: rafe :)

A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.

You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.

You: am i allowed to touch myself?

Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.

Rafe: if you promise me something

You: what?

Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight

Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.

The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.

You: i can do that

Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready

You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.

Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.

You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.

You pick up your phone.

You: might have to go back to sleep after that…

Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.

Rafe: order breakfast for yourself

The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?

You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3

Rafe: did u call about the heat yet

You reply: i will

Rafe: do it now

You: bossy

Rafe: now

God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.

It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.

You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.

When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.

The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.

You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.

He joins the session and lust fires through you already.

“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”

figure8: much better

figure8 tipped you $100.

“What’s that for?” you giggle.

figure8: for looking so pretty

“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”

You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.

figure8: goddamn

You smile.

figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second

“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”

figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?

You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.

You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”

figure8: maybe?

“Depends on your mood,” you say.

figure8: the fuck does that mean

“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”

figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol

“Shut up.”

figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night

“I hate you,” you laugh.

figure8: you love me and this dick

figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass

You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.

figure8: fuckkk just like that

“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.

figure8: i wanna see them ripped off

“These were expensive,” you pout.

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: there, you can buy more

“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.

figure8: rip them off right now

You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.

You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.

figure8: shake ur ass

You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.

figure8: let me see ur asshole

The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.

You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.

figure8: holy fucking shit

figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass

figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger

You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.

You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.

figure8: is it nice and wet?

“Mhm.”

figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?

You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.

figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it

You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.

figure8: hows it feel?

“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.

“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.

figure8: fuck yes

You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.

When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.

As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.

figure8: u like that?

“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”

You get the reaction you were hoping for.

figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?

“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.

figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?

“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.

You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.

When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.

“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”

“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.

Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.

With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.

You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.

“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.

“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.

He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.

“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.

You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.

You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.

Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.

He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.

“Tighter,” you whisper.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.

His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.

“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.

“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”

His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.

“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”

“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.

You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.

You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.

“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”

The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.

Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.

“Don’t do that,” he instructs.

“My neighbors-“

“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.

“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.

“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”

“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”

The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.

“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.

You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart in your ear. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.

As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.

“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.

“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.

Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.

“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”

You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.

He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.

“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.

You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.

“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”

“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”

He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.

“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.

“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”

His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.

The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.

“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”

His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.

Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.

He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.

He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.

“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”

His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.

You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.

“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”

You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?

“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.

He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.

“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.

Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.

Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.

Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.

He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.

“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”

“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.

“Cancel?”

“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.

“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.

“They didn’t already fix it?”

“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”

“So, you spend another night cold?”

“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”

You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.

“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”

“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.

You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.

“Hotel?” you repeat.

“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”

“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”

Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.

You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.

You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.

“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”

You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.

This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?

But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.

You’re not sure what to do.

{ read part six here }

2K notes · View notes

millerscoffee · 9 months

Note

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals. It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it. So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front. He hands out papers, hovering by your desk. Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down. You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings. “Shit,” you say to yourself. That was it. That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course. You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling. You failed. Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind. What were you to do? How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it. The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller. Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes. His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns. He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve. A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt. Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him. “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?” Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl. Proving not to judge a book by its cover. The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff. Predicates and imagery? I’d rather be learning about biology. But I need this course, you know. And I…,” you swallow hard. God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher. He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,” Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table. He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms. Keeps his distance. “It happens, you know. There are things we can do to accommodate. You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail. You have options. I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final. Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare. You know the workload of this university. Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?” You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it. The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help. You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all. I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though. You’d have to come by my house…,” he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course. If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it. You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did. Though, that was neither here nor there. His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing. Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place. But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay. Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race. Tonight? Tonight?! Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.” How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively. “Here’s my address. 7 o’clock.”

“Seven. Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.” His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat. You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers. It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar. Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach. It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home. Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans. His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted. His stomach, soft at the bottom. You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks. You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too. Charismatic as he invites you into his home. Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks. His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower. What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home. It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time. His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures. Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children. He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right? When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too. Fuck, this feels so easy. But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language. He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that. You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally. Plump and ripe for the taking. Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you. What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression. You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen. You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?” When you take the water from him, your fingers graze. The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind. He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead. The two lines between his brow. “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table. Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree. You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop. All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down. You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster. You dread it, you really do. Going over your failures? You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,” Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift. The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head. “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought. You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax. Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself. “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything. See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.” Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format. This citation works for your research papers, right?” He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day. You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper. “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs. You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it? You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly. If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format. Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting. An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse. You shift your gaze to look at him. The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest. The freckles that splayed over his aged skin. “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement. And a pointed one, it seems. Someone to tell you what to do. And Joel wanted to be that person? Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it. Maybe he did that just because this was his house. That must’ve been it. He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next. He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either. What? I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart. Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap. You deserved better than that. He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself. He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes. He felt for you. And he was a bit lost in your eyes. You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit. Joel could see that. He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted. You threw him off without even trying. The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise. You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly. “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay. You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.” He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. The candor, the nerve. A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were. Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain. They look soft, and… willing. You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else. You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming. He’s not married? You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this? So close? Backed by the glow of his house? It was so different from the boys you were used to. In their dorms or disgusting apartments. It smelled as nice as it looked. You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself. You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster. Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway. I know I didn’t at that age.”

There. The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?” You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee. Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers. “Forty-six. You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion. How will this land? What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa. He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out. Do you fake it? Do you give it to them straight? Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you? N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you. It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp. But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge. It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you. Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone. No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet. He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day? You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing. Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans. His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that. All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things. That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready. His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing. Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually. He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination. “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses. Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does. On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat. You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this. You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.” Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request. “I – what?”

“No?” Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood. It’s just, straddling his face? Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?” His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural. But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school. Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today. He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you. “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?” You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place. And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures. His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor. “Fuck,” you mutter. This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does. You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest. Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand? All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening. “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.” Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told. Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart. Then, it’s incredibly palpable. His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him. You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself. There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too. Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt. “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks. Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do. Has so much to teach you, if you let him. Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much. Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him. An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much. It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt. Delicious, deliberate. Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was. Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last. Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you. A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained. “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly. Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery. Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips. Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there. Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you. The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you. Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too. He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin. Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally. Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone. Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar. You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was. Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly. Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor. His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons. “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had. You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm. And everything else.

“You know what you did?” Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand. You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress. “What was it?” You ask, curiously. Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you. His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance. “What is it?” You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him. “No. No. I want to feel you. It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that. At how gone your brain is. Here he was, thinking he was the only one. “Okay, okay, darlin’. I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion. But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head. You were everywhere. His mouth, his glistening chest and beard. He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation. Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock. “Such a needy little thing, now,” it’s as if someone else is talking. This isn’t the Professor Miller you know. This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it. “So fucking wet. Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock. Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it. “Take my cock.”

And take, you do. Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock. Clenching around the head and he growls at that. “You dirty thing. This how you fuck all your teachers?” It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you! Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you. It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him. “Just me, show me then. Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over. Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once. Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own. The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else. His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole. You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected. Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore. “Fuck me, Joel! Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?” Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first. Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this. When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you. How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now. His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow. The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on. The way it sounds. Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you. Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake. You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs. Over your own stomach. You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your. His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it. I know you can take it. Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby. That’s it, that’s good, darlin’. Shh, easy. Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat. Come for me, I know you can be so good for me. Good for – fuck – fuck. Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit. “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop. Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come. Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore. You feel too good. Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves. “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!” Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms. You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out. So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear. He doesn’t want to any more than you do. But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out. Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you. You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back. But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle. When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too. He’s just as disheveled. The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?” He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender. More playful. More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.” he’s finished enough for you to roll over. You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop. He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant. “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow. “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,” Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now. “You will pass by your own volition. I meant it – you are bright. You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.” He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave. And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.” You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue. Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

#bee's requests #professor!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou smut #joel miller requests #soft!dom joel #softdom!joel #professor au #professor joel miller au #tlou au #joel miller au #by bee

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barbieaemond · 6 months

Text

A curse for a curse

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, sub!Aemond, smut, oral sex (f and m receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, p in v, chains kink (idk if that’s even a thing but it’s there)

Word count: 8.5K

Author’s note: PLEASE READ THIS ->There's a little canon divergenge as in Rook's Rest is not happened yet, so Aegon is King and Aemond went to Harrenhal. Based on a request I got for sub!Aemond.

Taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @ashovertheriver (y’all i can’t remember the others, I had my taglist in my old blog so…sorry 🫠)

Harrenhal tastes like curse and smoke when she enters the blackened and ruined walls.

She is sure, as she is sure that dragons are real, that this place has been cursed over and over since Balerion and Aegon the Conqueror proved that not even stone was safe against dragonfire.

The air is heavy in her lungs, as breathing through a thick layer of wool and her steps echo down the corridors in a strange way; it seems like a never ending sound, echoing through the walls and many lost ages.

But her stride is steady, her eyes fixed on the doors of the Hall of One Hundred Hearths where she is sure to find him, where she will end this thing for which she has no name, and yet it is draining her, wearing her out like a starved leech.

“When is Aemond coming back?” the Queen Mother asks, and then little Jaehaera asks the same question, even Helaena, in those rare moments of clarity, wonders about her brother. And each time, she doesn’t know what to say. Her lip grows stiff, her jaw clenches and she wonders obsessively from dawn till dusk. What is he doing there?

Why has he not returned now that Harrenhal has been taken?

What is he doing with that bastard woman?

“They say she’s a witch.” King Aegon says with his glassy eyes, putting down his cup as he looks around to choose a target on which to pour his anger. Wine seems to not work anymore, it is not enough to quench his thirst for revenge, and unfortunately, she happens to be the easiest mark.

“He killed everyone in that gods-forsaken place. Everyone except the witch.” He leans forward, watching her with amused anticipation just like a child who waits for his favorite toy to break. “Why did he not do it, sweet good-sister?”

He wants her to snap, and surely something does snap inside her, but she refuses to be humiliated like this.

“I do not know, your Grace. Perhaps my husband learned the Gods’ mercy and decided to spare a woman.”

His chest shakes violently as he laughs, and there’s nothing more humiliating than his laugh, not even the whispers traveling all the way from the Riverlands.

He’s taken her as his prisoner, keeps her in his chambers.

She has utterly bewitched him.

Every word is a stab to her heart and every time his word reaches her through a raven, the wound splits more open and festers.

He does not mention the bastard witch. He says nothing on the matter. He informs her of the war progressing, tells her he will come back soon.

Soon.

Soon was two moons ago and he’s still there.

It doesn’t matter anymore, she thinks as she reaches the doors of Harrenhal. Soon is now.

The look on Ser Criston Cole is almost comical as two soldiers open the doors of the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. “Princess?”

She immediately looks around, but there’s no silver in that huge black hall.

“What are you doing here?” the Hand asks, walking to her “It is not safe for you—”

“Where is the Prince?” she cuts him off, her tongue hitting her teeth like a blade cleaving the air.

Ser Criston looks puzzled for a moment, and even if she doesn’t show it, anguish twists her gut. But then he says “The Prince is not here, your Grace. He’s out, on the battle camp.”

She looks at the soldiers in the room, watching her like some kind of weird creature—a lamb in a den of wolves. That is no place for a princess, no place for a woman. And yet, it is precisely her place.

She belongs to his side. As he belongs to hers. It’s what she’s been telling herself for two moons of sleepless nights.

She should have come here with him in the first place, war be damned.

“Leave, please.” She orders the men “All of you. I need a word with the Hand.”

They may not be used to taking orders from a woman, but they immediately leave the Hall like a pack of unruly children.

The thud of the doors is like some kind of curtain falling and she is finally free of this act, free to snap.

“What is going on here, Ser Criston?”

He shifts on his feet, looking down, looking utterly incapable to answer her question. “The situation in the Riverlands is quite delicate at the moment—”

“I don’t give a shit about the war, Ser Criston.” She almost hisses “You are perfectly aware of what I’m asking.”

His mouth shuts and she resists the urge to use her hands as talons to part his lips and grab the truth from his throat.

“What is going on between Aemond and the witch.” she states, she is not asking.

The Hand sighs deeply and takes a step closer. His whole demeanor changes, becomes confidential, almost fatherly. “My Princess, you must not believe the foul whispers that have been spread.”

She feels a glimmer of relief blooming in her heart, but not strong enough to relinquish the leeches sucking at her bones. “What should I believe then?”

“It’s true. The Prince spared her life.”

“Does he keep her in his chambers?”

“What? Seven Hells, no. She has her own chamber. A little room in the wing intended for servants.”

“Did she ever visit his rooms? Alone?”

Ser Criston looks down for a moment, his lips contracting. “You must understand, my Princess. There are no servants here.”

The wound between her ribs cracks open.

There are no servants here. Did she help him dress? Did she help him bathe? Did she do all the things she used to do? All the things only she was entitled to do?

“I want to see her.”

“Princess, it is not wise.”

“I believe it is very much wise, Ser Criston, since my marriage is at stake here.”

Ser Cole sighs again. “She’s…dangerous, my Princess. She’s eerily persuasive.”

“So, you think it’s true? That she’s a witch?”

“I’m not sure about her powers, my Princess. All I know is that…one of our soldiers spat in her face when she was still a captive by order of the Rogue Prince and she just…murmured something to this man.” He swallows lowering his gaze and takes a deep breath. “The next day he ripped out his own tongue with his bare hands, bleeding to death.”

Disturbing as these words can be, she keeps a steady and cold face.

“She claims she can read the flames. That they speak to her, that she saw all of this happening—the Prince coming here. She claims she saw the fate of the war.”

A long silence stretches between them, but however right the Hand’s reasoning may be, she is not keen to let magic and superstitions take what she has come here to retrieve. “Take me to her.”

Ser Cole stalls for a moment, trying to make her give up by merely looking at her. But at last, he caves. “As you wish, my Princess.”

Her room is completely bare, save for a hearth and a bundle of dirty covers and a pillow thrown on the ground.

She enters and the air feels even heavier, more cursed. She feels it like something weighing on her shoulders, drying her throat.

There’s a woman sitting before the fire, clad in rags with long black hair falling down her back. She seems to register the door opening and closing only minutes later, as if she was too focused on her fire staring. But then she turns her head and looks at the woman before her with a strange smile.

“Alas, you have come.”

The Princess blinks quickly, watching the woman stand up and walk closely to her, chains on her feet and hands. She feels something unsettling under her skin, behind her eyes, as if she can’t stop looking straight into the green eyes of the witch, not even if she wanted to.

“You must be Alys.” She says, quickly scanning the witch before returning, inevitably, like a magnet, into her bright green eyes.

The woman, whose age is impossible to determine, keeps her smile as she looks at the Princess from head to toe. “You are exactly as I saw you in the flames.”

“That will save us some time, then. No need for introductions.”

“No. I know who you are.” The witch says, curling her cracked lips some more “I can see his mark on you.”

“His mark?”

“Yes.” She says, unnaturally widening her eyes. “He leaves a mark on everything. Things, places, people. Much like me, I’d say.” From her throat gushes a high-pitched laugh, jarring and spiteful. “We have much in common, the Kinslayer and I.”

The way she utters the last words makes the Princess grind her teeth, as if they were…what? Friends? Allies?

Lovers?

“Have you been in his chambers all this time?” she finally asks and the witch has the boldness to roll her eyes. “Is that the only reason you’re here? To know if he cheated on you?”

“Answer my question.” The Princess orders.

“Darling, If I wanted to fuck him, I would’ve done it ages ago.” She starts laughing again, grinning mischievously and then she sighs. “You left your mark on him as well. I can feel you in his head. And you are so heavy.”

She doesn't know what to make of that. There is not a single reason why she should trust her word. And it's not just the alleged powers this woman may possess. It's her whole demeanor. Haughty, even though she is a bastard. Mocking, as if she looks at the young woman before her, and sees much, much more.

“Just as you, I’d say, since he’s forsaken his family and his wife to do whatever you’re making him do it with your witchcraft.”

She bursts out laughing, so loud that the Princess flinches and takes a step back.

“I’m not making him doing anything. I can’t play with his head. He’s too stubborn. I did not curse him, sweetheart. Your beloved prince is already accursed.”

“Then what do you want? Gold? Lands?”

“I do what the flames command. I serve no God, no King, no Lord. And neither does your husband. It was his choice to see.”

“To see what?”

“What the flames choose to show. I know how this war will end. I know which color will stain the other for good. I know who will sit on the Iron Throne.”

The Princess furrows her brow, confused and puzzled, apparently pleasing the witch who smiles again and nods. “Oh yes, he will make a sight to behold wearing the Conqueror’s Crown.”

Who? Aemond? On the Iron Throne?

“So that’s how you’re keeping him here. With visions and fantasies.”

“He asked me to. At the moment I’m more valuable to him than all his generals and soldiers put together. Besides, I know how to deal with him.”

The Princess almost laughs at this. “I see. You think you can handle him, don’t you? A wild dragon for you to tame, is that what he is for you?”

“Well, I’m not denying he’s handsome enough to please my eyes.”

“And once you have tamed him, what will you do? How will you handle him when you scratch the surface, and you see the neglected son? Lonely, misunderstood, maimed. The boy no one cared for.”

It is the first time the witch does not have a quick biting answer. It makes the Princess rejoice.

“All your witchcraft won’t be enough to handle him.”

The witch falls silent. There is a distant look in her eyes as she observes the Princess and the more she stares, the more the younger woman feels dreadfully uncomfortable. She starts to feel something in the back of her mind, like a gentle abstract push.

“Ser Criston." she says suddenly, swallowing but keeping a collected mask. "The keys, please."

“Your Grace, Prince Aemond will not be ha—”

“I’ll deal with Prince Aemond.” She says, looking straight at the witch and the ghost of a superb smile hovers on her lips “I know how to handle him.”

The Knight slides the keys from his armor and hands them to the Princess. She is ready to free the witch’s wrists, but she stops, locking her eyes on Alys. “There is a carriage outside. And some guards who will do whatever Ser Criston will order them. Take it and go wherever you want, there’s even gold in the—"

“I told you, I don’t want—”

“I don’t care of what you want!” The Princess snaps, raising her voice, and the pushing dissolves. “You live to serve the flames? Fine. Do it elsewhere, far away from us.”

Alys shuts her parched mouth, and simply nods. “As you wish, Princess.”

She removes the shackles from her feet, and then from her hands, holding the chains between her fingers. Alys touches her hurting wrists, before tilting her head down in some kind of bow, or maybe a mocking gesture. The Princess cannot bring herself to care.

The witch makes her way past the younger woman but at last, she stops for a moment, leaning back her head of dark curls to say “I did touch him, just once. He put a knife to my throat.”

Vhagar likes to nestle on the burned blackened towers of Harrenhal, like some kind of dreadful reminder of the legacy of ruins and ashes Balerion the Dread has unleashed on this cursed land.

Aemond enters the castle walls with his circle of counselors and generals. They crowd on him like bees with honey and he knows why. He knows that most of the time they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about. They hang on his lips and jump like little good soldiers, jostling with one another in the hope of gaining something more when the war ends. A land, a title, one of them had even had the guts to offer a daughter to marry.

“I am not sure of what you are implying, my Lord.” He had said to the Lord with a dangerous black glint in his eye, as the fool thought it was wise to remind the Kinslayer that he and his wife had had no children yet. “Whether you are insulting me or my wife. I am sure of one thing, though. You will shut your hole before I take your tongue and feed it to my dragon.”

There were no more talks of unwed daughters between those walls.

“My Prince, if you allow me—” one of them says as they enter the Hall of the Hundred Hearths “We should give the lords who pledged for the Blacks more time to consider—”

“I gave them enough.” He says turning with a glare, looking even taller than he is, with his silver armor streaked with gold and the long green cloak. “They will pledge to my brother before dawn or I will bring dragonfire to their lands. Then we shall see where their loyalty lies while they burn to the crisp.”

They all shush and Aemond almost thanks the Gods for this brief blessed moment of peace. He ponders for a moment and then looks at a young soldier behind him.

“Summon the witch.” He orders “Bring her to me.”

He looks down to remove his riding gloves but out of the corner of his eye, he sees that the boy is still there.

“Uhm, my Prince, the witch is not here anymore.”

“What do you mean she’s not here?”

“S-she left, your Grace.”

The last word does not even leave his mouth the poor soldier feels a hand around his neck and the Prince is easily lifting him from the ground as if made of feathers. “You let her flee?!” he rages with his eye blown wide.

“I-I did—not your Grace!” the boy manages to croak while he’s choking, legs kicking like a chicken in the butcher’s hands.

“He’s right. I did.” Her voice cuts through the air and Aemond turns his head in a blink, looking positively stunned to hear his wife, to see her there.

He lets the soldier boy go and stares at her on the threshold of the huge Hall. He blinks with disbelief, as if he’s finally able to see after days and nights spent in a cloud of fog. Something shifts inside him him—something that has been wandering ceaselessly day and night, lifting the weight from his shoulders, from his black heart. Not Harrenhal’s weight, not Alys’. A weight far darker, a curse far more dangerous.

“Out.” he orders the Lords “All of you.”

They obey at once, scattering down the Hall only to stop for a moment before the Princess, to pay their respect.

The doors close but she stays on the threshold. His eye roams on her figure, once and then twice. He has never seen her wearing such a simple dress, easy to disguise her noble roots, her royal ones. And even though the mere sight stokes almost three moons of ugly and burning desire, it only makes him angry. It only makes him ashamed.

“What in the name of the Seven are you doing here?”

She walks to him and without uttering a single word or even sparing a glance to him, she begins removing the heavy armor plates from his body.

“What are you doing?” he asks with deep wrinkles on his forehead.

“My duty as wife.” She replies sternly, holding his arm “Or did you forget you had one?” she looks at him and sees rage blazing behind his eye—rage and maybe a tinge of hurt.

“Am I doing it right?” she asks removing the armor plate from his forearm “Was your witch friend better than me?”

The metal clatters on the ground as he grabs her arm, hard, pulling her close. “I asked you a question. We’re at war and you go strolling around the continent? Have you lost your mind?”

She tries to wriggle herself out of his iron grip, unsuccessfully as always. “How strange, that is a question I should ask you.”

“Enough.” He says grinding his teeth, digging his fingertips into her skin until her mouth twists with pain.

“Enough was two moons ago, Aemond. When you were supposed to come home, to your family, to me.”

“In case you didn’t notice, we’re at war, my dear wife. Things in war don’t go exactly as you planned them—”

“Oh spare me!” she cuts him off, freeing herself “Spare me the war talk, that’s all I’ve been hearing from you.”

“What did you expect exactly? Love letters?”

“I expected what I deserved. To know the truth. You have not mentioned her. Ever, not even once. Do you have the faintest idea of what I’ve been through all this time? Of all the dirt they have been spreading behind my back?”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says turning his back on her, as if he had not done that enough.

“No, you will.” She promises, circling him to look straight at him again. “They said you were so besotted with her to deny her leaving your chambers.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says again, closing his eye for a moment.

“They said, and this was from the wretched mouth of your beloved brother, that you put a child in her womb since I was not able to give you an heir.”

“I don’t want to hear about it!” he shouts, and she knows she hit a nerve there, because he never shouts.

“Why? Does it make you ashamed? It should. I had to hear all of it. I had to endure it while you stayed here playing fortune teller with your witch whore.”

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and raises his gaze to look at her, dead serious. “You know nothing about her powers. She saw many things, happened precisely as she predicted. I needed her. I needed her powers and you had no right to send her away.”

“You needed her?” she repeats, pale with utter disbelief. “You needed her for what? For her to tell you how good you’ll look wearing the Conqueror’s Crown? To feed you with fairy tales while we risk our lives staying in the capital, unprotected because Dreamfyre can’t fight and Tessarion is still in Oldtown. What if the Blacks decide to attack us now? They have a dozen of dragons, we have only Sunfyre.”

“The Blacks will not attack.”

“Did she tell you this? Did she see this in the flames?” she can’t fight back the contempt curling her lips “Are you listening to yourself? Flames and visions to win a war? You poor fool.”

“Watch your mouth, woman.” he seethes “You don’t talk to me like this.”

“Or what? Are you going to chain me up? I kept her chains, you know? I thought you’d like a token of your time with the witch.”

“Did you come here for this? To make a scene like some common girl who feels threatened by another woman?” his lips turn upwards, curling and twisting with ugly deprecation “What do you think you know about the war? What is your contribution while you lie around in a lavish castle waiting for me to come back and fuck you? I’ll tell you. None. You can’t even perform your duty to give me an heir. And you come here to lecture me?”

The wound is rotting from the inside and he’s pouring salt on it.

“I came here for my dignity. As a woman, I have nothing else. I came here for your mother, who I fear will go mad with worry just as your sister. And lastly, to tell you that I’m with child.”

Aemond stills completely, so much that she thinks the witch’s curse is hitting him right now, no matter how far she is, turning him into stone.

“But it seems utterly irrelevant to me right now. So, go. Hurry! You might still find her.”

She moves to leave the room and he does it at the same time, trying to reach her, to stop her, but she flinches as he tries to touch her, battling his hands away.

Aemond utters her name, softly, and it makes her stomach turn.

“I will leave at dawn.” She informs him with a blank face “I won’t disturb you and your precious war any further. Fret not, husband. I will stay in my lavish castle like the good soldier I am, waiting for you to come back and fuck me.”

This is place is not only cursed, but it is also so freezing cold that she wishes for one of those direwolf furs the Northerners use to wear as she sits before the hearth in what she assumed to be Aemond’s chambers. The room is large, even larger than the ones they share in the Red Keep, but it’s completely bare and almost ominous with its black walls that stink of ash and smoke.

A cursed place, fitting for a cursed woman.

She has been for quite some time. Because she chose to stay by his side, because she chose to love him.

“We could turn to a Septon. Annulments are rare but possible. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins.” Her father had said in the aftermath of Lucerys’ death. She had looked at him like he was some kind of lunatic.

As if she could leave him, as if she could turn her back on him and marry another man.

As if he hadn’t left his mark on her.

She thought the Gods had cursed her for good, that was why, however much they tried, she couldn’t bear his child.

“A child is the highest of the blessings from the Gods.” Her mother had said during one of her last visits to the capital “How can they bless your union with a man so accursed?”

And yet.

She is impatiently waiting for the sun to set. Even if her limbs have never been so heavy, as much as her heart, she finds no reason to stay here, not when she can’t stand even the sight of him. But of course, how can there be peace in such a cursed place?

She hears the door opening. She knows his gait. She wished to hear it for two moons as she lied alone in their bed.

She hears him approach until he is beside her, but she does not look at him. She only sees his arm holding out a small tray.

“Eat.” An order, not an invitation.

She doesn’t even bother to look at the food, keeping her cold gaze on the fire. “I’m afraid I lost my appetite, dear husband. You can thank yourself for that.”

She can feel his eye piercing, burning her skin, the air coming from his nose short and harsh.

“Eat or I’ll feed you myself.”

She doesn’t bother to even answer this time.

Aemond stares at her, waits for her to look at him, he needs for her to look at him. “Is it true?”

“What?”

“That you’re with child.”

“In my husband’s lovely words, I lie around all day so I guess I’m capable enough to notice if I miss my moonblood.”

He leaves the tray on the stone mantelpiece, noticing a pair of chains lying there, and then looks down at her. “You will stay here with me.” Another order.

Another rejection. “I will not.”

“Yes, you will. You are not going anywhere, not in your condition.”

“I see. Now I’m worth something to you, am I not?” and finally she looks up “My duty is fulfilled, my womb is finally swollen. It’s a shame your witch left, we could have asked her to look in the flames and tell us if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Aemond lowers his shoulders and grabs her chin with the same cruelty he is used to brandish his sword, tightening her cheeks to prevent her from uttering another word. “I said enough.”

He watches as she tries to escape his grip, pushing his shoulders as her eyes grow more and more scornful, and he knows he deserves it. But that ugly thing breaks, snaps like a thin rope pulled too tight.

His mouth is on hers, fingers squeezing her cheeks to force her to take his kiss, which is not really a kiss, but more of an act of war, a relentless and rather quick siege, because she was already starving. She opens his mouth and this alone makes him whine with relief as his tongue slides between her teeth. Her hands grab his doublet collar, knuckles turning white and she angles her head, only to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.

He winces as he pulls his head back and sees her licking her lips, a dead distant look in her eyes. But her hands move, gently, through his silver strands. "My words are but blunt knives on you. I must hurt you in the only way I can."

“I did not touch her.” He says like an oath “Ever.”

“I know you didn’t.” she reassures him, but her eyes stay distant, as if even being this close now, they are also miles and miles apart. “Maybe it would’ve been better if you had.”

“Did you want me to fuck her now?”

“I wanted you to need me, not her.”

His eye is on flame, rage and shame dancing together, but it’s not aimed at her. He finds that the only person on the receiving end is none other than himself.

Something dies in his eye, his shoulders slump and his head falls forward, hiding what no one would dare even think of seeing on the stern, cruel face of Aemond One Eye.

He kneels before her and lays his head on her belly, catching her off guard. She can't see his face, and yet she has it before her eyes, clear and indisputable as something carved into stone.

The surface has never been so frail. She doesn’t even need to scratch it, she only has to lift it.

No man is so accursed as the Kinslayer.

She had thought it true enough, but what about Aemond’s curse?

“I know you feel guilty.” She says, or rather whispers, as if she’s being blasphemous by accosting such a word to such a man. “I know you feel guilty for Jaehaerys. For Helaena.”

His answer is mute, but it’s the loudest confession she could get.

He fists the fabric of her gown between his hands, knuckles turning white on the verge of breaking. She feels him nestling further inside her, like a child, and she closes her eyes for a moment, placing a hand on her wound to stop the bleeding, and leans over him, sliding her hands on his back, softly but firmly, as if helping him to stay whole, as if preventing him from breaking into pieces.

Aemond didn’t believe in curses.

He did not regret, not even for a moment, the murder of Lucerys. He did not care that the Gods had turned their backs on him. They had done it a long time before. He did not care of how people called him, of how they would baptize him in the annals of his lineage.

He had started to care, to feel guilt, after he actually killed his kin.

For he had killed Jaehaerys, he had killed Helaena.

Kinslayer. Kinslayer. Kinslayer.

In his head, he heard that word with his mother’s voice, with Aegon’s, Helaena’s.

He found some kind of peace, of solace, only in his wife. But then the war was calling and he fled to Harrenhal. It was his duty, it was his way to try to make things better, to get revenge.

He had taken Harrehanl back and he knew he should have come home. But then the witch, the very same who had forced a man to rip out his own tongue, had spoken to him, talking about visions and flames, of predictions that happened to be alarmingly accurate, of him sitting on the Iron Throne with the Conqueror’s Crown on his silver head.

And he saw an opportunity, however blurry, to set things right, as they should have been in the beginning. He saw a way to get the upper hand in this war. And furthermore, as much as he did not realize it, he had found a way to stay away from the Keep. He would rather dare with witchcraft than return home and hear Helaena's wails cutting through doors and walls, and through his heart.

But next to the guilt had come the shame, for he had turned his back on his wife, for he could imagine the filth their enemies and non would spread, like shit flowing in the sewers.

He had tried to confine her to the back of his mind, but she became heavier and heavier as the days passed, along with the scarce letters in which he never mentioned the Rivers bastard.

She, of course, had sensed it immediately.

“You can’t win this war if your mind is elsewhere.” She had said one night, on one of his visits to her room.

He always stayed on the threshold, arms laced behind and poorly disguised distrust stretching his features.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking head.”

“You need not worry, my Prince.” She retorted with a chilling smile “I can’t play with your head. It’s too heavy…and ugly. And this woman…oh, she’s eating you alive.”

The witch is gone now, and yet she is still there.

She lingers on the walls of his chambers like a ghost, she imposes a wall between him and his wife and perhaps neither of them is strong enough to climb it. So, for days they just circle one another like wounded animals.

The Princess is staying with him of course. He has forbidden her to leave his side and she has caved, on one condition though. She has given him three days to deal with the Riverlands and then they will go home, together, where they are needed, where the mighty dreadful Vhagar is needed.

The day before their departure, Aemond returns victorious from the Riverlands. He has gained the allegiance of the lords in a way Visenya Targaryen would be proud of.

He will never forget the Lords' faces draining of color, probably pissing themselves, as Vhagar roared a war chant in the sky, and tongues of fire brushed the lands as warning.

He enters the chambers quietly and sees her crouched on the floor as her hands dig into a drawer, pulling out papers that she carelessly drops to the ground. Aemond closes the door firmly, announcing his presence, and she looks at him for a single moment before sighing in defeat, closing the drawer.

“Looking for my love letters?” he teases, for the first time after days of loud silence.

“I was looking for ink, actually.” she says looking below a paper left on the table. “Besides…love letters from you? Ghastly.”

He can’t fight back the smirk curling his mouth as she walks close to him and begins removing the armor. He looks at her face and she’s stern, almost rigid in her gestures, in the way she touches him, as if she despises doing it and yet she can’t help herself.

He doesn’t have a clue.

He doesn’t know that her stiffness has nothing to do with contempt. He doesn’t have a clue of how much she aches for him. Of how much she wants for him to take her, fast and rough, as he often used to do, because she can’t stand to be treated like some porcelain doll to be cocooned thanks to his child growing inside her belly. She wants to be more than that, she demands to be his wife again.

“Have you eaten?” he asks her, gently, and she wants to break something.

She can’t stand it anymore. She can’t stand all the questions.

Did you eat? Did you rest? Did you sleep?

“Is this how is going to be from now on?” she asks looking up “You acting as if you are my maid?”

He clenches his jaw and his face turns stern just like hers.

“First you accuse me to have forsaken you and now you don’t want my attention. Make peace with your mind, wife.”

“I want you to be my husband.” She says getting close to him until she smells dragon and ashes.

She wants to bathe in it. “I want to be your wife.”

Aemond’s eye lingers down on her throat, on her constricted chest, and his lips part. “You are.” He vows, locking his eye on her.

“Prove it.” She whispers tilting her head with a challenge dancing on her parted lips, hovering against his.

He is one breath away from swallowing her whole but he stops, melding their breaths in one, and he grins. “Are you going to bite me again?”

“As if you didn’t like that.”

A moment later his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her lip, her neck. His hands are everywhere, frantic and needy. She can feel he’s restraining from holding her too tight, but she wants, no, she needs more. She wants him in her bones.

They move without logic, clinging to each other, trying to assert dominance on one another. He grabs her wrists and forces her down on the chaise beside the hearth. He is looking at her in the same old way, as if he’s blind to anything else. She aches so much for him that she’s breathing hard, the word please climbs her throat, slides on her tongue, but she will not beg for him.

In all truth, she doesn’t have to.

He kneels on the ground like a pious man at the altar, and she hikes up her skirts, spreading her legs to place them on his shoulders, heels pressing on his back to bring him close.

“You know what you want, don’t you?” He teases with a feral grin.

“Curse you and your hideous smirk.” She says sliding on the chair to bring her apex close to his overly talkative mouth.

“You love my smirk.” He says grabbing her thighs to secure them around his face. “Besides, I’m already cursed.” He leaves a red mark biting on the soft skin of her thigh, looking straight at her and how she startles, whining in half pain half pleasure.

She catches a glimpse of the sapphire glinting between her thighs before her eyes fall shut and she moans unnaturally loud as he licks a stripe along her wet folds and up to her apex.

She is trembling with anticipation, with arousal that pools from her, glistening his mouth and nose. Her hips begin bucking against him and he moans contentedly as he buries his tongue inside her, lapping and tasting like a starved beast.

Her breath grows shorter and shorter for how close she is already, so much that he stops to look at her with a spiteful grin. “Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“Shut up.” She whispers hoarsely and pulls herself up just enough to grab his head, pulling his hair to force him to take where he left off. Her hips are rocking on their own against his face, nails scratching his scalp harder and harder as she comes undone in his mouth, while he hums with pleasure, drinking of all her. Eye fixed on her as he watches her throw her head back, spasming and trembling with a loud moan.

Her back hits the back of the chaise as she catches her breath and looks at the black ceiling in a moment of pure bliss. Two moons of anguish are but a distant memory, her mind is foggy, she doesn’t even remember the face of the witch.

He dismantles her legs from his neck and she looks down at him, cheeks red, watching as he climbs on her, unbuckling his belt.

“No.” she says, and she stops his hands. “Do you think I would make it so easy for you?”

Aemond looks at her, half puzzled half curious, and then she pushes him down, overturning their positions so now she’s sitting on his lap, feeling all of his hard length against her.

“It’s my turn to prove it.” She says raising an arm that goes on the mantelpiece behind them.

“Prove what?”

“That you’re my mine.” She promises, and Aemond hears the distinct sound of metal clinking.

She lowers her arm and he sees a pair of chains between her fingers. He is bold enough to smirk at her. “I thought you were the one who wished to be chained.”

“I’m not the one in need of a lesson.”

She grabs his wrist but he easily pulls away. “What if I don’t want to?” but there’s an intriguing glint in his eye, on the edges of his arched mouth.

“Then who will take care of you?” she asks with fake innocence, grinding on his cock, and she smiles as the air comes out of his mouth in a hiss. “Are you sure your hand will suffice?”

He looks at her with challenge, breathing slowly through his mouth, and he caves.

“Chain me.”

She smiles darkly and grabs his wrists, fastening the chains and then locking them to the sides of the chair. She stands and grabs his legs, sliding his back further down.

She notices his eyebrow rising and she looks at him. "I want you to be comfortable. I'm afraid this will not end so soon."

He swallows with anticipation and watches her as she slowly climbs back on top of him and begins to unbutton his doublet., pushing the fabric aside to reveal his diaphanous pale chest and her hand slides over it, over his ribs, stomach, and navel, halting his breath.

Her lips hover against his, swallowing his shallow breath, but suddenly her head dips down, leaving a trail of little heated kisses on his neck, on the planes of his chest.

He watches as she does that, feeling her lips like burning embers marking his skin. Her eyes lock on him and she opens her mouth engulfing one of his nipples, circling her tongue around it. He tilts his head back, lips parting to let a puff of scorching air out, and then she's grazing her teeth over the soft pink skin.

The chains metal clink as he winces.

She grins pulling herself up and slides a bit down his legs with her bottom, so she has open room to his belt. She begins unbuckling it, looking at him, watching the glare he’s giving her.

“I can’t tell whether you want to kill me or fuck me.”

“I need you to fucking do something.”

“Like what?” she asks, palming his cock through the fabric “Tell me, husband. I may grant your wish.”

He rocks his hips in one slow movement, trying to feel every inch of her hand, but it’s a faint touch that only makes him ache for more. “Move, grind on me.” His voice is imperative as always, but his tone is different—all heated and husky.

She frees him of the constricting belt and breeches and lays on him, releasing a blissful sigh when she feels the hot hard flesh colliding perfectly against her core. The chains clink again as he tries to move and she smiles, caging his snatched waist between her legs.

Aemond is panting quietly, trying to get a grip on his own body but he finds it’s a useless fight when he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt.

But then his wife seems in favour of granting him some mercy. She starts grinding on him and his lips part some more, panting loudly this time, as he feels, and hears, the beautiful obscene sounds her wet flesh is making rubbing on him.

“Lift up your skirts. Let me see.”

She stops grinding and he almost whines with annoyance, moving his chained wrists in a useless attempt to grab her waist and force her to move again.

“I don’t like that tone, husband.” She says, and her voice is husky as well, her breath labored “Ask nicely.”

Aemond is silently starting to regret this whole thing. Patience was never one of his virtues, if he even has virtues. He’s completely at her mercy and cannot do anything but comply.

“Please. Lift your fucking skirts and let me see.”

“Hmm.” She hums smiling. “Better.”

Her skirts turn into a bundle of fabric around her waist and he dips his chin, looking straight at their flesh as she resumes her torture.

“Fuck” he utters, his eye growing heavy but he keeps looking, and he doesn’t have a clue whether it’s the rubbing or the mere sight of her coating his cock that draws a moan out of his throat.

“Do you see how I much I’ve missed you?” she asks hoarsely, grinding more and more firmly.

His head hits the back of the chair as he keeps panting and rocking his hips against her, lifting his waist as if desperately trying to slide inside her.

“I touched myself every morning. I woke up all wet and aching for you. And where were you? Here, plotting with your witch.”

“Enough of that fucking witch.” he croaks, a sheen of sweat is ghosting on his forehead. “Faster.”

She does the opposite. She stops altogether. And this time, he can’t do nothing to muffle the whimper gushing out of his trembling mouth.

The Princess tilts her head, savoring each moment, and soon his piercing glare comes back even sharper. “Once I’m free of these fucking chains, I’m going to fuck you senseless till morning.”

“Unless you are still chained to this chair in the morning.”

He watches as her hands hover on his thighs, a feather touch that drives him mad, that makes his hips buck uselessly. His lips twist, swallowing a plead his pride won’t allow him to let go.

But she hears it nonetheless, in the way his fingers flex and twist, in his chest raising fastly. It may suffice, but it doesn’t.

“Stubborn, are we?” she teases, just like her hands, barely touching down his navel. “Your witch got it right. She said you are too stubborn, that’s why she couldn’t play with your head. She couldn’t handle you.” her fingertips finally dip down and she can see the silent plead in his eye.

“I can, though.” her palm brushes the tip and he whimpers, again.

“Please…” he whispers impossibly low, too low for her liking.

“Louder, my love.”

His mouth twists again but the need, the ache is so heavy that it burns out all the pride numbing his tongue.

“Please…” he begs freely “Please, touch me.”

A groan rolls out of him as she finally grabs it, squeezing softly before starting a slow rhythm up and down. He pants loudly, hips moving on their own as he tries to fuck her hand with a steadier pace. “Don’t rush it.” she scolds him, placing a firm hand on his waist to stop his frantic movements.

“I can’t take it…let me come…”

“Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“You’re cursed, woman.”

“Takes one to know one. A curse for a curse.”

She looks at him, hair all ruffled and sweaty on his forehead, a painful pleading expression twisting his sharp features and she smiles victorious. “I have half a mind to leave you like this.” She says and for a moment, he dreads she’s being serious.

“Luckily for you, I’m just as greedy as you are.”

In a swift moment she nestles between his legs and he’s moaning loudly before he even has time to register anything, except her lips locking around his tip, sucking so harshly he thinks she’s going to utterly drain him.

She starts a steady pace, just as he likes it, taking all of him, down to the base untili it hits the back of her throat. The chains clink and clink against the chair as he twists his wrists, bucking his hips harshly to fuck her mouth as deeper as he can, enthralled by the lewd sounds she’s making.

“Gods, yes…” he moans watching carefully as he slips in and out of her “Yes…just like that, just a little more…”

She feels him tense inside her mouth, she feels him tense all over and she knows he’s dangerously close. She stops for a moment, licking her lips and looks at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break the rule.”

Aemond groans with frustration, not having the faintest idea of what she’s talking about. He isn’t even sure he remembers his own name. He is just blood boiling and bones so tense they’re close to snap.

“What was it again?” she asks “Ah, yes. My seed belongs in your cunt.” She leaves a trail of soft kisses on his hard flesh and he whimpers once more. “My ever-romantic husband.”

“Fuck the rule, you’re driving me mad. Let me come.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please.” He begs “Please let me come in your mouth.”

The Princess is merciful enough to grant his wish. She engulfs him once more and he moans loudly for how sensitive he is. She picks up the pace and pride washes over her, pooling between her legs, as she sees him writhing beneath her, moaning with his mouth open, eye closed shut and the chains clink like a frantic bell while he twists his scratched red wrists.

He curses and mumbles nonsense under his breath until he stills completely letting out a long and loud grunt, spilling abundantly inside her mouth. She swallows to the last drop, gently sucking the pulsing tip.

The chains are finally still and silent. He’s breathing hard and short with his head thrown back, staring at the ceiling without seeing anything.

That is until he winces, feeling her hand on his sensitive skin. He raises his head to look at her, almost puzzled. She smiles slyly, moving her hand up and down. “Did you think it was over?”

If he did not feel so spent, he would be utterly thrilled and definitely flattered.

“Seven Hells, woman, give me a bre—” words die on his tongue wiped out by a hoarse gasp as she takes him in her mouth again. But this time, she sucks so slowly that Aemond actually whines in pain. And she looks straight at him, while her head bobs, relishing every moment, watching as he comes undone beneath her, babbling pleads, begging her to stop and a moment later to keep going. His voice is breaking, cracking as he whines and whimpers, poised between pain and pleasure.

Soon though, she hears more whines of pleasure than pain, as gets harder and harder in the hot haven of her mouth.

Suddenly she stops, and just stares, savoring the sight before her. The cruel Aemond One Eye, chained to a chair in a mess of sweat and sobs.

“Untie me…” he says, trying to make it sound like an order, but it’s a pale imitation of his usual tone. His words are slow, sluggish.

“You are not in charge here, my love.”

“Then quit the act and fuck me.”

Perhaps, if she wasn’t so equally desperate for him, if she wasn’t leaking between her thighs, she would have prolonged this torture, this excruciatingly sweet punishment. But she can’t take it anymore.

She climbs on him, and it takes her the least effort to let him slide inside her. He slips his back further down that chaise so that his hips are angled just enough to thrust into her, fast and steady.

“Oh Gods—yes!” she moans throwing her head back, frantically bouncing on him.

“D’you miss this?” he rasps, with a tinge of his usual infuriating confidence “Did you think of this when you touched yourself? Missed my cock inside you, hmm?”

She clamps a hand on his mouth to shush him and he bites her palm, thrusting even harder, making her whine loudly until her throat goes dry and her sight go white. They fall in a wild frenzy, utterly intoxicated with each other, leaving bites and marks all over, sealing one inside the other with a curse much more dangerous than any kind of witchcraft.

They come together, as she clutches his head to her chest so tight that he can barely breathe. He rests his head on the chair, slowly catching his breath, and she nestles against him, still sank on him.

He moves his hands to touch her, wincing for his aching wrists.

“Untie me now, would you?” he asks softly on the crown of her head.

“I’m not sure.” She muses against his chest. “I’ve quite enjoyed having you at my mercy.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

She moves her head to look at him, a little smile starting to light up her face and he looks down at her lips, mirroring her.

“Besides, it’s your turn.”

She raises her eyebrows fighting back a smile. “Now?”

“Haven’t you heard? No man is so accursed as me.”

#a curse for a curse #liv (in la vida loca)#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x wife reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond smut #hotd fic #house of the dragon #aemond one eye

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deadbolted · 1 month

Text

━━ 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑.

౨ৎ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): abby anderson x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: NSFW (mdni 18+), cursing, heavy petting, fingering, & cheating (don’t do it!)

౨ৎ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it can’t be that wrong if it feels that right, right?

౨ৎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 421

౨ৎ masterlist / navigation

abby knew this was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to stop it.

owen was waiting for her back at her place, he’d probably made plans to have dinner and a movie — and here she was, eyes rolled back, moaning your name.

“does he touch you like this?” you ask, snapping her out of her pleasureful haze. she shakes her head, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence.

waiting for her response, you slow your fingers, “answer me.”

“no! never.”

satisfied with her answer, your fingers begin to pump in and out of her again, her pussy clenching around your fingers.

“oh fuck”

you reach down and begin to rub tight circles on her clit, causing her muscular thighs to tense up. you stare down at her, eager to watch her cum for you. you loved this view of her, so submissive and desperate for release. her abs glistened with a thin layer of sweat, and her mouth hung open in pleasure.

“does he fuck you like i do?” you question, already knowing the answer.

in the 2 years that you had been friends in the WLF base, abby had complained about her boyfriend’s inability to satisfy her dozens of times. that inability eventually led her here, to your bed, to your pleasure.

“no! s’only you. make me feel so good”

abby knew she should feel guilty, and after she came down from her high she did. but in this moment, while you fucked her on your fingers and groped her breasts like owen never did, that nagging shame seemed to disappear.

“fuck you’re squeezin’ my fingers so tight. y’wanna cum?” you ask, working your thumb on her clit.

“please, wanna cum for you!” she sobs, thighs shaking in anticipation of her orgasm. just as you’re about to give her permission, her phone rings from it’s spot on your bedside table.

you freeze, only momentarily before continuing to work your fingers in and out of her leaking hole. the sound of her phone startles her, and the fact that you don’t stop startles her even more.

“it’s him. shit…hold on a second” she requests, reaching for her phone.

when she notices you haven’t stopped your relentless pace, she furrows her brows. “baby, please.” she reaches for your hand to remove it, but you slap her hand away. you have no intention of stopping until she’s squirting on your fingers.

instead, you decide to mess with her, and that stupid boyfriend of hers.

“answer it.”

౨ৎ 𝐚/𝐧: been thinkin this one up for weeks. idk how i feel about it tho!

#abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #joel miller smut #ellie williams smut #tlou smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #tlou hbo #abby anderson tlou2 #abby smut #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson #smut

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hrtsdevils · 5 months

Text

dog-eared. | jh86

summary reader and jack broke up before he was drafted to the nhl. after years of watching from afar, jack finally sees y/n in person. past feelings are brought up to the surface.

pairing jack hughes x fem!reader

wc 2.6k

an my lovers… also another gracie fc sorry idk what to tell you! also for the sake of the plot pretend that the devils play the ducks on tuesday instead of vancouver thanks!!! loosely based off of everywhere everything by noah kahan ft gracie abrams

It had been years since you’d seen Jack. You broke up right before he started his NHL career as it seemed like your plans didn’t align. You’d be going to college in California, as USC had been your dream school your whole life. You dreamed of living somewhere where it was sunny and it was never freezing, unlike the weather in your hometown of Toronto. He dreamed of making it big in the professional league, which he was so close to achieving already.

The breakup between you two was mostly mutual. It happened in your 2005 Honda Civic, in the parking lot of a gas station after you had gone to buy soft drinks. The two of you could feel the breakup impending, and it felt as if the weather channel told you a meteor would be hitting Earth within minutes. As if the sun was about to collapse. The silence was deafening as you started your car, putting your drink in the cup holder. He followed suit.

“I..” He started before you cut him off.

“You think we need to break up?” You asked, giving him a soft smile. It wasn’t genuine, it was quite the opposite. You just didn’t want him to feel guilty, you thought it was the right thing as well.

He nodded softly, “I just think we’re on two separate paths… you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Your hands tensed under your thighs, as you were using them as hand warmers. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttons.” That had been his nickname for you since the 8th grade. You had a perfect little button nose, and it quickly caught on and everybody would use it for you as well.

The drive back to his parents’ house was in silence, as neither of you had much to say to each other. In about ten minutes, you were parked in front of his house. “You’re still going to come to my birthday party, right?” You asked. You were turning eighteen in a few weeks, June 7th.

“Yeah, I will.” He smiled sadly, “It’s not over. We’re just separating until we get brought back together.”

You huffed, “When’s that? Whenever fate decides?”

“Precisely. Call it a dog ear.. you like to read, right?”

“Yeah, I would never doggy ear my books though.” You giggled, “Bye, Jacky.”

That was the last you talked formally. He never did come to your party, texting you an excuse about how he had a training camp that day. You didn’t believe it, but you never said anything about it. It had been years, you watched him succeed from your dorm room and then to your small apartment couch. Your roommates never understood your love for the sport, but you always attributed it to being from up north.

That was a reason, but not the only one.

Every year you anticipated the Devils coming down to Anaheim to play the Ducks. That was practically the only time you watched Jack in person. You were particularly excited this year, as his little brother Luke would be playing too. You adored Luke, he was so sweet and well-mannered, especially to you. Trevor would also be there. He wouldn’t be playing as he was injured, but you’d caught him after a few games to catch up and he was your little piece of Michigan in California.

It was a Friday game, which met that the tickets were slightly higher and there were fewer of them. You finally got your good friend, Cecilia, to agree to go with you. She was familiar with your love of hockey, and she knew you went to a lot of games. She didn’t know you knew two players on the ice, and two players up in the press box. As you were buying your tickets with her, you got a text from Trevor.

trevor zegras 🐣 : hey buttons r u coming to the game? idk cause jacks playing

You hastily replied, trying to shield your phone from Cece in the most subtle way possible.

y/n buttons : yeahhhh i was jst about to buy my tickets bahaha

trevor zegras 🐣 : don’t buy them ❌❌ i have a club ticket right above the benches if u want it

y/n buttons : usually yes i’d love to but i’m bringing my friend cece

trevor zegras 🐣 : i have 2! i’ll send em to u later

y/n buttons : thanks trev i appreciate u ☺️

You put your phone down and closed your laptop. Cece was a couple feet away on hers, but looked at you when your laptop snapped shut. “Did you buy them?” She questioned, scooting closer to you. You shook your head.

“Kind of? Well, one of my friends is on the team and he’s injured, he offered us seats right behind the bench.”

Her jaw fell slightly, “You never told me you had connections!”

You smiled, “I don’t really, I usually buy my tickets. This was a first time thing, I think he might be drunk.” You tried to explain it in the least suspicious way possible. You didn’t want to seem boastful, but an explaination had to come from somewhere.

You two discussed the arrangements for a couple minutes longer. From outfits to hair to transportation, you were more excited for this game than you had been for any others. Maybe it was because it was Jack’s team, or maybe it was because someone finally seemed to share your admiration for the sport.

Who knows, it was probably the latter.

The day came quick, as it was only a day or two out from your initial conversation. The tickets usually dropped in price right before the game, but luckily you didn’t have to spend the money on it regardless. You lended Cece a Zegras jersey that he got you, while you chose to wear an unnamed 30th anniversary jersey. You still had a few hoodies with Jack’s last name on the back, from his time with USNDTP, but you wouldn’t be wearing those tonight.

You arrived shortly before warm-ups, but when you looked at your section and seat numbers you realized Trevor wasn’t lying about you being right behind the bench. He just never mentioned that it was the away bench. You watched from your seat as the boys entered from the tunnel. They weren’t facing you, but you watched to make sure they didn’t turn around at least not now.

You managed to go a little while without being seen by Luke or Jack, that was until Cecelia got extremely into the game. The Devils had a goal in the late first period, opening up the scoring. Luke was sitting on the bench about a foot to the left of Cece, and once they scored she started banging on the glass.

As he stood up to cheer, he turned around due to the banging. The first thing he did was make eye contact with you. His eyebrows raised, and he blinked as if you’d disappear when his eyes opened. He didn’t say anything as you tried to avoid his gaze, and simply turned back around.

The game continued on, and you didn’t see him say anything to Jack. Soon enough, it was intermission and you felt safer. Like eyes weren’t on you anymore, even though they never were. It went by fairly quickly as the two of you watched the silly halftime games that usually were played by young children. As soon as the Devils came back through the tunnel, Jack turned around and looked at you. He kept sneaking glances as they warmed up again before the start of the second.

The rest of the game wasn’t as fun, as the brunette kept staring at you. As if you couldn’t go to hockey games, his hockey games. As if he couldn’t help looking at you. As if he missed you.

It didn’t help that Cece kept shouting at you, telling you that the cute one kept staring at you and that he wanted you. You knew her best interest was at heart, but she had no idea the magnitude of your situation with said cute one. You entertained her teasing of you, and how she kept pointing at you everytime Jack glanced your way.

By the end of the game you were over it. You wanted to escape and go home before the off chance that you ran into Jack actually happened. It was relieving when you got into the car, but startling when your phone lit up with a single message from Jack. Cece was giggling to herself, looking up one of the cute guys she saw on Instagram. She was oblivious to the situation

jack hughes : hi why were u there

You tried to think of an excuse, but eventually you realized it wouldn’t matter if you told the truth or not.

buttons 🩷 : because i was given tix my trevor.. and i go to a lot of ducks games

jack hughes : oh no other reason?

buttons 🩷 : u think i went for u?

jack hughes : maybe a little. sorry for bothering u buttons.

buttons 🩷 : don’t be sorry. how long are you in anaheim?

jack hughes : tonight n then flying up to seattle

buttons 🩷 : where r u staying?

It was a twenty minute drive back up to your apartment, but with your speeding it was around seventeen. Cece didn’t question your urgency as you dropped her off at your shared apartment, and left immediately after. She was a little bit tipsy. As you drove to the Marriott in Anaheim, you thought about what you were doing.

Throwing away years of peace for the same boy who disrupted it all those years ago. If you started to have feelings for him again, who knows how much you life could be uprooted? Everything could be ruined. All the progress and the getting over Jack. Your Jack. You knew you were risking your own personal journey by going to see him, but at this point you didn’t care.

The hotel receptionist was reluctant to let you up, as she knew who was staying there. The skepticism on her face was present from the very moment you walked in.

“Look, I know him and I know his room number, so can you just let me go up?” You pleaded with hed. Going to a room usually wasn’t necessarily an issue, the issue here was that a sports team was staying. She might’ve thought you were a crazy stalker fan.

As she was about to answer, Jack exited the elevator and spotted you talking to the receptionist. “She’s with me.” He told her, as he walked up to the desk. “Thanks, though.” You had texted him a minute prior about the receptionist, but you didn’t expect him to rush down.

“Hi.” You breathed as you made your way toward the elevator, “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good.” He stopped before the elevator, “Would you rather go for a drive? I’m sharing a room with Luke.”

Your story paused in a car, so you were unsure how this would turn out. Maybe it will be different this time. “Sure.” You replied softly.

You two walked to your car in silence. You were about to get in the driver’s seat, but he insisted on driving. “You should drive slow around here, there’s a bunch of cops at night because of drunk college students.” You chuckled, “I’ll tell you when you can speed.”

You buckled up, and he started your car. It was an upgrade from your Honda, being a more recent model of a Nissan. “So, why’d you come to the game?” He asked as he pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot.

“I go to a lot of Duck’s games. Trevor plays, of course I go watch him.” You started, “He offered me club tickets, and I figured they were behind his bench. They weren’t, obviously.”

“So you didn’t go for me?” He questioned once again, “I don’t believe that, Buttons.”

You rolled your eyes, “I kind of did. I’ve been while you were playing for the last three years, but I still like hockey in general.”

“I’ll believe that.” The silence sat for a little while as he drove 25 down the city roads, the radio wasn’t even playing. “Do you think we could’ve done long distance?”

You shook your head, “No, not then at least. That’s why we broke it off. Maybe now.” You said the last part quieter, just enough so that if he wasn’t paying attention he wouldn’t have heard it.

But of course he was paying attention. You were his everything before, and possibly even now.

“Now?” He questioned, “What do you mean by that?”

“When we broke up, you said our page was dog-eared. Bookmarked. It was more like a pause until we were ready and mature, or at least that’s how I took it.”

He smiled, “I remember that. Do you think we’re ready and mature?”

You shrugged, looking at him. “Maybe, just this semester and then I’m done. I chose to graduate a semester early. I could move back east, we could be closer. Even without I think we’d be mature enough for long distance.”

The chances of this moment happening just weeks before you graduated was an alignment of the stars in itself. This could be everything you wanted, without disrupting your peace.

“If you need a place to stay, you can always stay with me and Luke.” He offered, “To get on your feet, if you come back.”

“Maybe.” You hummed. His hand was resting on the gear shift, even though it was an automatic. You made a move to lay your hand on top of his, squeezing it gently.

It was a soft step in the right direction. A step to getting the love of your life back, which is what you’d wanted since the minute you broke it off. It’s been a long three years without him, he was your best friend and you intended to make up for the lost time soon enough. You wouldn’t bring up how he never contacted you either, because it was far in the past. You were both kids at the time and you can’t hold a grudge about that.

As he re-entered the hotel parking lot, you smiled at him. Your hands were now intertwined on top of the cup holder region, and you never wanted to let go. His hand was more rugged than before, matured and weathered, but it was still a comfort you had missed. He dropped it to shift the car into park.

“So, I’ll see you soon then?” He asked, as you got ready to get out. 45 minutes had passed between getting into the car and now. You conversed about your current life and your future. Your future together.

You nodded, “Yeah, hopefully. Keep in touch, okay? No ghosting me.” You stepped out of the car and walked around to the driver's side as he got out as well.

The two of you shared a hug, but exchanged little words. You could hear the cars around you, and the sounds of the city were still alive. “Bye, Jack.” You released him from your embrace.

“Bye, Buttons.” He smiled, “I’ll text you.” He turned around and walked back to the hotel as you watched, a smile gracing your features as well.

You’d love him forever, whether you got back together or not. You believed he felt the same. You were glad that Trevor had known about the seating on the tickets, and made sure they got to you. You were also glad Luke saw and recognized you. You were excited to see him. The end was over, and the new start was just beginning.

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naomiarai · 3 months

Text

bsf tyun coming over to your place, finals just ended and god, you could use some relaxing time with him. a little talking somehow leads to the topic of “if youve ever received head” now sex talk with taehyun wasn't weird, it just wasnt often and that aspect made it a little awkward. but when you let out a quick “no” at the said question; you think youve never seen taehyun so wide eyed. youve seriously never been eaten out? he asks with pure amusement. all you could let out was another pathetic “no”, this was embarrassing in a way, what if he thinks you're really inexperienced with this kind of shit even though you guys have been friends to the point to even talk about it?

is that weird or something..? you ask, anticipating his answer, no, god no thats not weird, i just couldn't fathom that nobody ever made you feel good like that he says in a rush. wow,, for it to be surprising, oral sex must be the base of even putting a dick inside a pussy you think. but now it intrigues you, how does it feel to have someone's tongue right on your cunt? its definitely strange to imagine but its a thought that comes to mind if youve got someone surprised and only ever had dick inside you.

b..but im curious, i wonder how it feels.., you mumble to yourself, but seeing taehyun turn his head towards you, he heard it too. he pauses for a moment before saying,, i can make that happen, if you want to that is, he says ever so simply like he just didn't ask he if he could eat you out. your heart drops, did you hear that right? did he just blatantly ask if he could possibly eat you out? oh my god. you feel so warm all of a sudden, something along your mind giving you the feeling of saying “yes”.

but what if it ruins your friendship? what if, you gain feelings for him after he gives you head and its never normal again?. over here...wouldn't the bed be more convenient..? you say before you could regret it. taehyun looks at you again, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a genuine grin, so im guessing that's a yes? hm? he asks with a tone of triumph. you look at him with doe eyes,, whispering uh..h yes..

and thats how found yourself here, naked legs spread open, and taehyun in-between them, a tight grip on your thighs to keep you from moving. anticipation fills you as be simply urges you to relax and he'd take care of the rest >< (how is taehyun so calm here idk) you slightly flinch at the feeling of his tongue flat against your hole, the cold feeling sending vibrations down ur spine. his fingers move in circles around ur inner thigh, as he sucks at your clit as he uses his other hand to flick at it. god, its seriously just making you wetter, it felt so fucking good.

a-...ah, dont stop- god you say letting out soft moans, you could feel taehyun smiling at your cunt, really happy huh? your thighs start shaking right as he slips his tongue inside your gaping hole, smoothly rubbing against your walls, edging you so close to your orgasm. i can feel ur close, come for me yeah? he says and its got your pussy throbbing, almost immediately cumming at the end of his sentence.

he looks at you with delight as your chest heaves up and down, recovering from your orgasm. you feel heavenly, gosh was he good ;3 he goes back to lick up the mess u made,,, youll have to do this again, with an excuse that you'd only done it once...

#txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt smut #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun x reader #txt x reader #taehyun imagines #txt imagines

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p1utofairy · 6 months

Text

PAC: “good karma my aesthetic. keep my conscience clear, that's why i’m so magnetic.” 🩰🍥🫧🪷

• what do you need to hear right now?

disclaimer ✩: take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i really appreciate y’all sm <3 for the patience, the love, the feedback and support. y’all are the greatest ever. i’m open to pac suggestions as well, so don’t hesitate to slide in my ask box! xoxo.

pile 1 ☂️ —

heyyy pile 1 ⭐️ what you need to hear right now is: release. relax and let go of any unhealthy attachments you may have to a certain person, place, idea or thing. i think you've been holding onto someone/something or the idea of what it could be/could’ve been. i pick up a feeling of yearning. you’ve been wanting something to work out in your favor, so you’ve been holding out…waiting to see if this situation will turn out how you anticipate. big 3 of wands energy. you’ve been waiting awhile now (i’m hearing weeks for some, months for others) for a clear answer. i think the more you wait around and stall things, the less likely things will go into motion. don’t chase, attract. remember that things will flow naturally to you and it’ll always work out in your favor no matter what — when one door shuts, several more will open. don’t put a time frame on it, you’ll get your answer/wish/clarity when you least expect. keep focusing on yourself and what you’re currently doing! whether that be going to school, work, the gym, studying, spending time with friends, etc. there’s a certain area in your life that you greatly want change to occur in, i’m heavily picking up for some that this is in regards to your love life, and again — i keep hearing that things will unfold in your favor when you least expect. very soon. you’re on the brink of something great, just don’t overthink it. relax, take a breath and just BE. your guides will handle the rest. love, prosperity and abundance are on the way to you. it just may not appear in the way you envision, which doesn’t mean it won’t happen at all. think about it this way, you might fantasize about coming across your dream person while you’re in a bookstore (on some ‘harry met sally’ type shit lol) so every time you go into a bookstore you’re kinda anticipating that to happen, but let’s say your busy at work or you’re frantically trying to prioritize doing your school work and studying and out of nowhere you look up and make eye contact with this person you’ve never seen before but you can feel the ✨vibe✨ like WHOA that’s…my person. i just see you being in your element when you meet this person pile 1, your mind will not be preoccupied/you will not have any precognitive thoughts — your person will just reveal themselves to you out of the blue. okay i feel like i’m getting carried away lol but everything’s gonna work out even better than you imagined pile 1 💗 trust that.

other channeled messages:

don't settle for less, pink + white by frank ocean, strawberry milkshake, chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey, leo sun, cancer moon, vedic astrology

pile 2 🦢 —

what's goodddd pile 2! i feel like you're in your self-love/healing era. you just bounced back from something and you did it with such resilience, ease and grace might i add. i'm hearing church girl by beyoncé, “i'm gonna love on me, nobody can judge me but me! i was born free.” okayyyyyy pile 2 i love this for y'all. i think some of you are really working on strengthening your throat chakra by speaking up for yourself and setting boundaries. just saw a meme that said “how i reclaimed the word ‘cunt’ by being one” OH WOW WOW WOW. i think you’re just over a lot of people and their bullshit, you may have just gotten out of a relationship, had a friendship breakup or recently left a job. good for you 💗whichever situation applies to you, i know it was draining and heavy on your shoulders. you finally feel like a weight has been lifted and you can spread your wings and be free. idk why i’m hearing some of you might be listening to a lot of lana del rey lately? (random but REAL af lol) i love that you know yourself at the core pile 2, you can’t fake it…if somethings not pleasing you or it’s not in your best interest, you know how to walk away and find something better. you don’t even know it, but you're inspiring to a lot of people. i think what you need to hear is: keep being your true authentic self. never forget where you came from and who helped you along the way, because i see that you have a big, bright and successful future ahead of you pile 2. you’re gonna be a star. “the diamond in the rough” from aladdin is what i’m hearing. you’ve got the wit, talent and empathy to get where you need to be in life. i wish you nothing but happiness and success pile 222 ♾️

other channeled messages:

hurricane by bridgit mendler, switch a n**** out by summer walker, olivia pope, sagittarius rising, cancer moon, pisces energy, save your tears remix by the weeknd & ariana grande, on my shoulders by sabrina claudio, red dress

pile 3 💵 —

hi pile 3 🤗 i’m getting rich vibes from y’all already lmfao, even if you aren’t (yet) there’s this energy of being very well-kept and liking the nicer things in life. you love you some good ol’ retail therapy. the message you need to hear right now is: spend your money wisely. i think you need to budget/save a bit more pile 3, you can sometimes go a bit overboard and indulge in the latest clothes, upscale restaurants or beauty products. you like nice things!!! there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you just need to make sure you’re prioritizing and balancing your earnings. some of you that picked this pile have very young energy lol like i can see you chilling at like 12am scrolling on youtube/tiktok and ooo’ing and aaa’ing at so many different product reviews and adding shit to your cart. some of you are tempted to buy stuff from the tiktok shop too lolll that was so oddly specific but i also feel like you've been big on protecting your peace lately. kickin’ back by mila j is coming to mind, “i’m kickin' back and i’m lightin' up doin' what the fuck i want. just rolled a wood, i’m feelin' good. just me, myself and this blunt.” i know das rightttt pile 3 🤭 you know your worth and you’re not settling for less than anything that you deserve — i love this.

other channeled messages:

luxurious by gwen stefani, need to know by doja cat, i just had an epiphany i need to go to tiffany’s, fenty gloss bomb, chanel chance, scorpio moon, catching flights not feelings

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a card reading #intuitive reading #love pac #love reading #pac tarot #tarot reading #tarot #tarot pac #energy reading #p1utofairy

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phefics · 6 months

Note

An idea: poly!ghostface- the boys are out about to go after a victim when they find they’re missing something/something broken (the phone isn’t working or their voice changer doesn’t have batteries whatever you want is totally cool!)

They realize- afab!reader the needy little whore did it on purpose so they’d have to come home to her and give her attention like they don’t give her attention 99% of the time.

Which of course they do and they are very very grumpy angy bois. All like “oh you missed us you wanted our attention you know you’d get it when we came home but you had to ruin our game and now we gotta take our energy and anger out somehow”

Followed by some smutty degradation, spanking/punishment, good ole fashion filth lol

Side note i think you have one of the easiest to understand request rules idk some people just make them complicated but yours is great!

needy little whore

ship: billy loomis x fem!reader x stu macher summary: exactly what the ask above says!! :) warnings: degradtion, spanking, a bit of knifeplay, rough/unprotected sex, face-fucking word count: 1.3k

You knew that you were asking for trouble, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

It wasn’t that Billy and Stu weren’t giving you enough attention. In fact, to the average person, they would be considered abnormally clingy. It didn’t bother you, though, because you were the same way.

You would have survived one night without them, but you were feeling mischievous that night. You wanted to piss them off so that they’d take it out on you, because angry sex with Billy and Stu was a whole new level of adrenaline.

So, you stole the batteries out of their voice changer, and then hid all the other batteries in the house. You weren’t stupid: You knew the reason they wouldn’t be hanging at Stu’s tonight, and you didn’t mind that as much as you minded their attention being elsewhere.

Since Stu’s family was rarely home, you would often hang out there even when Stu wasn’t around. He didn’t care, and had even given you a spare key.

You watched the two boys head out the door, black backpacks surely stuffed with everything they’d need to carry out a brutal crime.

You popped in a VHS of Nightmare on Elm Street, then made yourself comfortable on the couch, wearing the most revealing pajamas you had. You had seen the way the boys looked at you before they left, and smirked to yourself.

You only made it about twenty minutes into the movie before you heard a car pull into the driveway outside. Anticipation built inside you, but you stayed put, looking innocent as ever as Billy and Stu burst through the front door, both looking absolutely pissed.

“What did you do?” Billy demanded.

You looked up at him with your sweetest expression. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid, Y/N,” Stu said. “You’re fuckin’ lucky we tested the thing first.”

“You trying to get us caught?” Billy asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up from the couch. “You know we can’t fuck you if we’re in jail, right? Is that what you want?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not—”

“Ruining our game just cause you wanna get fucked, huh?” Stu said, closing in behind you. You were trapped between them now, Billy still holding your wrist as Stu pressed himself against your ass; he was already hard, and you bit back a moan at the realization.

“I just—”

“Couldn’t wait til we got home?” Billy smirked, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You would have gotten what you wanted later, but the needy whole just couldn’t wait.”

Stu gripped your hips from behind, breathing against your ear. “Well, we gotta get our energy out somehow. But now it’s all gonna be focused on you, baby. We’re gonna fuckin’ destroy you.”

You whimpered as they manhandled you back onto the couch, the film still playing in the background.

“Look at these slutty clothes,” Billy practically purred. “Barely covering anything…”

Stu pulled a knife from the bag he’d been carrying, the blade glinting in the light. “Bet you won’t mind if we take ‘em off,” he said, using the sharp blade to cut the strap of your top, then doing the same to the other side.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Billy stroked your hair and whispered, “We’ll buy you somethin’ even prettier, m’kay?”

Before you could offer a response, he shoved his fingers into your mouth, and you sucked on them reflexively, making him chuckle.

“Such a fucking slut,” he said.

Stu pulled the remnants of your tattered clothes off, leaving you naked as Billy pulled his hand back, admiring the strings of spit on his fingers before licking it off. He and Stu were completely fucking depraved, and it turned you on more than you could handle.

You were quickly pushed onto all fours on the couch, and you could barely contain your excitement at the idea of them fucking you. But that was wishful thinking. Instead, a hand came down on your ass with a hard slap! making you yelp.

You turned your head to see that it was Stu who had hit you, and you pouted at him.

“Oh, don’t give me that pathetic face,” he said. “You thought we were just gonna give you what you wanted after that? Not a chance, baby. We gotta punish you first.”

He laughed as you whined in response, clearly enjoying your frustration.

They took turns spanking you, slapping your ass without mercy.

“Count them,” Billy had ordered.

Each number left your mouth between pained groans and squeaks, stuttering over nine and eleven and thirteen, but when they hit twenty, they stopped, apparently satisfied with your teary face and marked-up ass.

“Think we should give the whore what she wants?” Stu asked.

Billy hummed, considering it. “I doubt she learned her lesson, but I wanna fuck her too bad to care right now.”

“Agreed,” Stu said, and you stayed on your knees as the two of them stripped out of their clothes hurriedly, bickering about who was going to take what place.

“You always get to fuck her, let me—”

“Her mouth is just as good—”

“Do I get a say in this?” you asked.

“No,” the boys replied, grinning at their synchronized speech.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched them play a rigorous game of rock-paper-scissors for who got to fuck you, and your laugh only grew when Stu won, and Billy flipped him off.

Some nights they would take turns, but after the spanking that they’d given you, they were gracious enough to not push your limits too far.

You were already wet, but Stu took some time playing with your pussy, fingers fumbling through your folds to rub at your clit, and you bucked your hips uselessly, moaning at his touch.

Billy walked to the other end of the couch, grabbing you by your hair and smirking down at you. “You gonna let me fuck your throat, slut?” he asked.

You nodded, opening your mouth for him without needing to be asked. He chuckled at your obedience, and wasted no time in pushing his cock between your lips.

As he did so, Stu was lining himself up with your entrance, his grip impossibly tight on your hips and he entered you, slow at first, before immediately picking up the pace, snapping his hips rhythmically. Every time he thrust forward, it made Billy’s dick go further into your mouth, and the sounds of their moaning filled your ears as they used you like the needy whore you were.

Your eyes teared as you focused on breathing through your nose amidst the pleasure of Stu’s cock inside you. Before you met them, you could never cum from penetration, but both Billy and Stu had a way of fucking you so good, rough just like you wanted, that it had become more common for you to orgasm from it.

“So fuckin’ hot,” Billy murmured, almost to himself. “Perfect fuckin’ mouth.”

“Such a slut,” Stu added. “Taking us both at once. Gettin’ off on it, too.”

You whined at their words, floating from the mixture of praise and degradation.

Stu came first, and Billy followed shortly after, and the three of you collapsed onto the couch together, sweaty and tired.

Stu leaned over to you and kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You had a suspicion it was partly so that he could taste Billy’s cum, but you kissed him back anyway.

“Get a room,” Billy joked, making Stu giggle.

Nightmare on Elm Street was almost over, and you were sticky and exhausted.

“You wanna get cleaned up, baby?” Stu asked.

You nodded, and before you could say anything, he was carefully leading you to the bathroom, his arms supporting the majority of your weight.

Billy went upstairs to grab you some clothes to borrow—a pair of his pajama pants, and one of Stu’s t-shirts. It was all too big on you, but it was comfortable and smelt like them.

You fell asleep to the sound of Billy and Stu planning another night to carry out the plan that you’d ruined. Maybe next time you’d take the burner phones off their chargers.

#poly!ghostface #billy x reader x stu #stuilly #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader #billy x stu x reader #poly!ghostface x reader #slasher smut #slasher fic #ophelia's fics

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slvttyplum · 6 months

Text

im having suguru brain rot

didn’t edit this so idk.

suguru walks in the kitchen where you’re popping grapes in your mouth scrolling on your phone.

“yo.” he says as he slides in front of you opening the fridge.

his hair is all messy and his wife beater was cropped showing his v-line and happy trail, your eyes subconsciously sliding all around his body.

the slam of the fridge startling you, you snap out of it.

“suguru whats your major again?” you blurt out. the truth was, you needed him. you didn’t care what conversation was needed you just wanted to hear that—

“psychology.” he deadpans, sliding past you again walking towards the pantry. your eyes follow his tall figure, his back muscles pushing out the shirt, and the wall those black sweats fit around his small waist.

sexy voice. sexy mind. sexy body. sexy major.

you could never really catch a glimpse of his face since both of you have two different schedules, when both of you were home he would stay cooped up in his room.

that didn’t bother you much since it did make you a little uneasy to have a male roommate in the first place, you hated to admit it but you were shallow, that man was fine.

so him being a guy living with you wasn’t a bother.

you slipped another grape into your mouth thinking to yourself, what’s something else you could ask him or talk about, this was your only chance, he rarely spoke to you.

“breaks coming up, are you going back home?” you ask, your voice cracking.

you mentally curse yourself, that wasn’t a good one but you gotta do what you gotta do.

he turns his head looking at you, his dark eyes looking you straight in the eye and his eyebrow and lip piercing shining from the light.

damn he’s fine.

he turns his head back to the pantry then closes it, he wasn’t feeling any of the good options today, maybe he could…

he folds his arms against himself leaning his butt against the counter near the pantry.

“unfortunately no, i have way too much to do here and i don’t live close so.” he says, playing with the piercing on his lip.

your eyes light up, this was fate, it had to be. you would make it your life goal to make sure you guys talk everyday.

“awe bummer, i’m not going home either, i don’t feel like flying.” you say tucking your hand in the waistband of your pants trying to warm it up.

suguru scans your figure and looks back at your face, his dick jumping.

“maybe we could hang out.” he says leaning off the counter.

your eyes almost fall off hearing this, this was all working in YOUR favor. oh universe what did i do to deserve such kindness you think to yourself.

a grin forming on your lips but you quickly wipe it off, “yeah i would love that.”

he smiles, his smiley piercing shining. god please.

“good, i’m a little hungry can you do something for me?” he asks leaning on his side only a few inches away from you.

your ears start ringing with anticipation, were you a genius or were you a genius. he’s going to ask you on a date, this was your time.

“can you lay across that table, i want to eat.” your jaw drops and the grape that was in the hand drops.

what?

“sorry, huh?”

he’s smirking and his hands drop down walking towards you, almost nothing helping the distance.

“sorry if that came off too blunt, it’s just… you look good and im starving here.”

your throat is closing by the second, your pupils forming in the shape of a heart, if he was saying what you thought he was then…

“fuck!!” you yelp out. suguru grabs your hand placing it on top of his head, telling you to grab.

he tongue swirling all around you, spit mixed with your liquids dripping off his chin.

his eyes glued to your pussy, his hands gripped around you.

his tongue piercing gliding over your clit every second, your body shivers from the cold touch every-time.

your hands sliding and grabbing his hair, where did he learn this oh my—

“god! right there!”

his eyes are rolling as his hands grip your thighs with force, his nails digging into you.

saliva was foaming inside your mouth, dripping off the side. the knot deep inside your stomach was tightening, and you felt like you were dying.

his tongue sliding from deep inside you to sucking your clit, the pattern and rhythm stopping your climax.

you tug on his hair, “keep sucking.” his eyes shoot up to you, smirking. he takes one of his hands off your thigh, sliding it under him and right into your pussy.

your breath hitches and a sharp feeling explodes in your stomach, back arching, your liquids leaking.

you flop back on the table, your head spinning.

suguru gets up licking his lips. “i’ll be back tonight, maybe we can do this again.”

your head shoots up and the heart shapes still in your eyes and the ringing in your ear was still there.

“yeah yeah for sure.” you say wiping off the drool.

he smiles at you and walks back to his room, you slide off the table clearing your throat.

for sure…

#college au #jjk x reader #getou suguru x y/n #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x you #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚plumdrabble

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bandgie · 7 months

Text

Poor Baby

Idol!Bangchan x sexworker!reader

a/n: a lot of you guys asked for a part two of this post and I will provide!

synopsis: You need to make end meet with your bills. When your boss gives you a huge opportunity to make big money, you hop at it (even if it impacts your dignity). Lucky for you, your favorite customer happens to be coming in that day.

cw: 18+ MDNI, glory holes, PIV, no protection (use it!), fingering, oral (f!receiving), pussy slapping, cursing, cock drunk reader, reader is called Nyx/Chris is called Koala, mentions of Lee Know, cum eating, Chris is more confident this time, Chris is called 'daddy' and he plays into it, brief mentions of sub-space, idk that's it

3.9k words

"I dunno, sounds too risky," you bite your fingernails as you speak. The offer is a good one, triple your hourly and bonus tips. You were on the verge of not being able to make rent, but your boss literally put this opportunity in your lap. Had you been a higher rating girl, you wouldn't have to resort to being a gloryhole.

"Okay I see what you mean," he starts, "but it's only for the weekend. Five hours tops! I'll give you a 20 minute break in the middle of it." Your boss looks at you with expecting eyes. You would take the deal in a heartbeat, but it goes against the only rule you have. "I don't feel safe letting my clients raw dog me. What if they get me sick?"

Your boss shakes his head profusely, "No! Come on Nyx, you know I wouldn't let that happen to any of my girls. They'll take the test to see if they're clean in advance. I get it, it goes against your morals or whatever, but it's big money. Huge! People with names are going to come, literally, and I know you need this more than ever. It's why I came to you first."

You sigh, looking down at the hands in your lap. He's right, and he's a good boss. You have a good job, nice coworkers, and a boss who genuinely looks after you. That's hard to find in this business. After all, you do need the money. Doing this gig for the weekend will help tremendously, and you might even afford to take a few days off.

Finally, you nod. "Yeah I guess you're right. When should I show up?"

It was a lot sooner than you had anticipated. You and the other girls weren't allowed to know who was coming. Like your boss said, they were well-known, so they preferred to keep their identity a secret. That part did make you a little nervous if you're being honest, but you found comfort in knowing that they wouldn't be able to see you.

It would be better this way. Have half your body in a wall, legs open, let the dude use you until he cuts in mere minutes, and get on with the next. Men cum easily, especially when they used women like a fleshlight. Perhaps time will go fast like that, and you could start planning on what you can do on your mini vacation.

So here you were, upper body laid on a small bed chest down with a bar in front for support. Your lower body was out through the hole, legs standing for support. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you could manage. Other women were in different positions all around you, some higher and some lower. Your boss and a few of other workers helped lube you up. You're thankful for that because you know damn well the men coming in would just rail into you.

A few minutes passed before you could hear shuffling, murmurs, the unbuckling of pants. You tensed in anticipation. You were grateful they couldn't see you, but not being able to see them was an entirely different story. You gasped when you felt fingers explore your folds. They were impatient, violating, and too harsh. You bit your lower lip from barking at the man, trying to think of all the cash you'd be swimming in soon.

It's just for the weekend.

Chris found himself, once again, in front of your establishment. He had already gone though the club, the secret sunflower door, the code. The only difference was that he was accompanied by none other than the person who told him about this sex club, Lee Know. They both wore disguises, face masks and hats to conceal their face.

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this again," Chris groans. Lee Know only smiles and laughs. Minho pats him on the back, "You're the one that agreed. Plus they have something special going on. You'll like it." Chris follows Minho from the main floor of the sex club and into the back. It's the familiar path to where he met you, but way further back.

Christopher would be lying if he wasn't anticipating on meeting you again. It's embarrassing, but he jerks himself off at the thought of you. The way you feel, the way you taste, how patient you were with him. He would rather die than tell Minho about you, he would get teased until the end of days. It's silly to think he'd see you here, but he can't help but hope.

"Something special? Is that why I had to get tested for STD's?" Chris questions. Rather than giving a verbal answer, Minho hums. He didn't have to do that before the session with you, and you let him go raw. Maybe it's only for special event, he thinks.

Chris and Minho approach a booth with a person inside. She wears a plastic smile on her face, hair done perfectly and acrylic nails. "Names please?" Her voice is almost drained out by the moans and slapping sounds coming from the other side. It's just a curtain that covers it, so all sounds can be heard.

A blush quickly finds its way to Chris's face and ears. He's so flustered that Minho has to answer, "Koala and Rino." The lady in the booth seems completely dismissive about what's going on behind the curtain. She looks through a few pages before nodding, "Ah I see you right here. Please enjoy your time, the session ends in about 2 hours."

Lee Know nods in response and grabs Chris by the sleeve the drag him behind the curtain. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He couldn't even comprehend the sight at first. Men were covered in sweat, pants completely down. Cum was stained below where the women were placed. The smell was strong, and it made Chris grimace.

He turned to Minho, expecting the same reaction. Instead, Minho was looking as if he was at heaven's gates. "Isn't it beautiful?" Chris stays quiet rather than answering. Minho walks further in and Christopher trails behind. The women have only their lower body sticking out, some in doggy others in missionary position.

Chan has only seen glory holes in porn, never even considering seeing one in person.

"So here," Minho points at the wall above one of the women, "is the name of the hole. They don't provide pictures, which sucks. If you see a name you like or know, you just basically fuck it. Cum in it, don't come it. Touch it, don't. The main rule is to not reach in the cut out. Keep your hands to what's exposed, or you'll get kicked out. They're pretty strict when it comes to shit like this."

Chris doesn't bother asking how Lee Know knows so much, it's in his name afterall. "I dunno," Chris tentatively looks around the room. Other men seem to have face masks on, but some don't. He can recognize people form TV, the news, even some older politicians. Lee Know sighs, "Bro, they don't care about you. No offense. They're just here to get their dick wet and leave. It's only gay if you make eye contact."

Lee Know's joke lightens the mood, and Chris finds himself laughing alongside him. They did pay a pretty dime to be here for the special event, he might as well enjoy it. The two men go off in their separate ways not long after. It feel weird for Chris to window-shop like this, almost uncomfortable. It's not until he comes across a familiar name that makes his heart skip.

Nyx, he almost sings. You have your ass out at the height of his hips. He takes a few steps closer as if he couldn't believe it's actually you. Chris takes note of your of your swollen clit, the gaping hole, the cum that drips down your thighs. Without thinking, he reaches out his ands to rub your ass. Not sexually, but more in a comforting way. He can tell this takes you by surprise because you jolt.

"Poor baby," he says sympathetically. It's not loud enough for you to hear, but he can't help but want to console you. From the description he read of you before, he thought this was the last place you'd be. His hands stay soft, and he finds himself kneeling. He can feel the wet floor staining his pants, but he doesn't care.

To put on a show, you wiggle your ass for him. You think the man behind you is going to shove himself in, but you feel a hot tongue. You gasp as the sensation. Since you first clock in, no one had eaten you out. You honestly didn't expect anyone to. You're covered in other men's cum, who in their right mind would consider such a thing?

Chris would, in a heartbeat. If it's to soothe you, he would do anything. He feels like he owes you something. Sure he paid you after the last interaction, but it still felt like it wasn't enough. Tasting men's cum isn't pleasant, but hearing your muffled moans though the walls was worth it.

It reminds him of last time, how desperate you sounded with his mouth on you. He wished you could see his face, watching as your mouth twisted in pleasure. Even now, he's still wishing for the same. His mask is pulled down under his chin while he devours you. Your legs struggle to keep you up right, but you stay on your tiptoes.

You can hear him slurping behind you, his hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep you spread. His tongue flicks over your bud and goes back to teasing your entrance. You could feel your arousal seeping out, and that seems to spur him on more. Your hands grip the bar above the bed, and you so desperately want to grip his hair instead.

Despite being here for three hours, you haven't came. You've gotten close to finishing, but men always finished before you did. It left you frustrated, yearning. You pray that the man eating you keeps going until you cum, but you know better than to hope for that. Instead, you try to grind against his face with what little movement you have.

"Shit. You like that baby?" You hear him ask. His voice is vaguely familiar, a twist of a distinct accent you swear you've heard before. You nod though he can't see. "Fuck yes. Don't stop," you moan. Perhaps it wasn't smart to command the client to please you, it's the other way around after all. To your surprise, he keeps going. He has his tongue dip inside your pussy, feeling your smooth walls.

It's so unbelievably sexy of him to eat you out. He must look humiliating; on his knees, sucking out the cum of other men into his mouth, the filthy sounds that leave his throat. He's eating you like he's never had a good meal in his life, like he missed your pussy. His tongue is experienced too, and you can't help but think this is also familiar.

That recognizable knot in your stomach gathers, and you begin shaking. If he pulls away now, you think, I'll quit. You don't even have to tell him you're close, he can feel how you tighten around his tongue. He quickly pulls away and shoves a finger inside before you could complain. It's difficult to eat you out now that his finger is in the way, but he can use his other hand to replace his mouth.

Chris rubs your clit in circles while he pumps you with his other finger. You squeal at the impact, feeling how his hand meets your ass when he goes deep. Your toes curl, eyes roll back to your head, and loudly moan when you cum on his fingers. It's been so long, so long since you've cum from a client. The last time was with that Koala guy, the one with the...accent.

Realization hits you quickly. You don't even have the chance to say anything with how he finger fucks you through your orgasm. "Wait! wait wait wait..." Chris immediately stops when he hears you. He gently removed his hand from you and you almost fall limp. His hands catch your waist and he keeps you up.

"Are you okay?" His voice is full of concern, full of care. Yeah, that can only be one person. You laugh breathlessly, body still quivering from your recent orgasm. "Shit Koala. How long has it been? Like three months?" You imagine he's choked up, unable to answer you. You've had a lot of customers, and it's impossible to remember them all. Koala, however, has left quite the impression on you.

He laughs awkwardly, "Something like that yeah. Uh...how ya been?"

You blow a raspberry and chuckle, "I don't think I'm in a position for a little reunion. You came here to fuck no?" Chris is a little stunned with your words, but agrees. "Yes. Well no. I mean yes, but not like-" he keeps rambling. You take pity on him and decide to take the lead, "No no I get it. You came here to fuck my pussy right?"

Chris feels like his face is on fire. He wish he could deny it, but he can't. He did come here with hopes of seeing you, to feel you again. Sure he could have fucked any girl here, but how could he when he knew you were here. All pretty and prepped for him. "What if I said yes?" he teases. "Would that make you happy?"

It's surprising to hear Koala tease you back, but you're more than happy to oblige. "Hmm...maybe. It's been a while since you've fucked me, might not be as good as before." Chris laughs, hands squeezing your ass, "I think you know you're lying to yourself. Got you cummin' on my tongue in minutes. Imagine what I could do with my cock."

His confidence has you horny. Before, he was pliant and submissive. He's a totally different man now, who knows what happened in three months. It could also be the fact that he can't see you properly, so it gives him some courage to be bold. No matter, you find it beyond attractive.

"All this talking and no fucking," you complain. "Maybe you are rusty."

In all honesty, Chris hasn't really fucked after you. He rarely did in the first place, but he genuinely thinks no one can compete with your cunt. He knows you're joking with him, but it still makes him nervous. Three months is a long time, he might have lack in some aspects now that he's the one taking control.

Still, he's given such a golden opportunity to show you that he can please you. Chris's grip on your ass tightens for a brief second before he grabs ahold of the base of his cock. It's already hard, red from screaming at Chris to put it in. He uses one hand to guide his cock into your abused hole and the other to rub soothing circles on your waist.

You can't help but smile. It doesn't how dirty he can talk or act, he's still a gentleman at heart. The nearly forgotten stretch makes you whimper when he puts his tip in. His cock is hot and can easily slide in with no problem. Despite that, he still take his time. Chris really wants you to feel how you pussy stretches around him, how he can glide against your warm walls.

Your knuckles turn while from gripping the bar so hard. You almost want to scream at him to hurry up and fuck you. Instead, you find yourself whimpering the contact. Your hips move against him to try and slip his dick in. It works a little, feeling his cock roughly an inch deeper. You can hear him moan behind the wall, a breathy higher pitched whine that makes your cunt wetter by the second

"You still sound so pretty," you whisper. You doubt he can hear you from the other men and women fucking, but he does. Little did you know, that he has his ear against the wall. Chris just needs to hear how you sound, what noises you make. He knows he must look so pathetic, and he's grateful that Lee Know is no where in sight.

Finally, he fills you up completely with his girth. Your legs twitch and squeeze together at the intrusion. You can feel the tingles that travel up and down your body from pleasure. Whimpers and moans leave you lips when he starts thrusting. You're thankful for the wall that separates you two. Before, you had tried to remain professional. Now you can be as loud as you please without worrying. Well...that's what you think at least.

The combined feeling of your soft pussy and beautiful moans break Chris's sanity. Both of his hands grip your sides so he could bring you to meet his thrusts. It's so loud and wet, he thinks you two must be the loudest in the room. Chris loves watching as your cunt drools on his cock, leaving strings of arousal on your ass and his thighs.

You're on the verge on tears letting this man fuck you relentlessly. It feels so indescribably amazing, you let your mouth hang open. "Oh fuucckk," Chris hears you groan. Heat and pleasure remain in your lower stomach, slowly building. It's torture with how it feels like too much and not enough all at once.

You find yourself wishing you could use your hand to rub your clit, but the wall prevents that. instead, you try grinding your thighs together tightly for stimulation. It works, but at the cost of choking Koala's dick. He whimpers, almost pained from the sudden tightness. He moves his hands to the inner parts of your thighs and spreads them open in response.

"Gonna break my fuckin' cock," he mumbles, lightly laughing. Chris resumes his thrusts, but he notices the constant moving of your hips. So much so that he even slips out momentarily. He thinks that it's getting too much for you, but the way you're begging for him to shove it back in says otherwise.

"What's the matter baby?" His voice is light. His strokes are softer now, giving you the ability to speak properly. You take a few heavy breaths before answer, "Touch me." You sounds so desperate, so out of your character that Chris almost wants to tease you further.

Almost.

He concludes that you must be getting close, just wanting to extra rubbing to really get off. Chris grants your wish and uses his fingers to rub circles on your clit. Your reaction is immediate, bucking and crying out in gratitude. Chris smiles fondly at how your body replies to his touch. Now he can tease you without feeling guilty.

"What do you saaayy?" He speaks in a sing-songy voice. Had you been fully cognitive, you would've cursed him. You headspace isn't working though, and you find yourself expressing your appreciation quickly. "Thank you daddy. Thank you thank you. I needed it sooo bad."

The pet name throws him off, making him stutter his hips for a split second. Chris deeply blushes at the term, unsure if he hates it or loves it quite yet. "Yeah? You like daddy's big cock in you?" He decides to test it out. Maybe it's because you're beginning to enter the sub-space zone, but you cum unexpectedly on his dick.

Chris feels you twitch around him and convulse. There was no warning, save for how creamy his length had gotten from your excitement. He almost praised you for how beautifully you painted his cock. Chris pulled himself in and out of you slowly to watch the white substance spread.

You couldn't stop moaning, fully crying from the orgasm. You normally had a good gauge on when you could cum and how to prolong it, but Koala had proven to fuck you up in more ways than one. You body shook and hugged his cock practically lovingly. Feeling him slide his dick slowly inside of you only make you wail louder.

Once Chris felt like you had come down enough, he fucked you with intent. He doesn't know how he was able to last this long, but he's chasing his own orgasm now. You can do nothing else but to take it. You groan everything he hits your deep, tip touching your womb. You can feel your cream dripping down your thighs.

This only encourages Chris more to finish. He wants nothing more than to mix your arousals together. Chris throws his head back and groans, letting his dick settle fully inside you when he cums. Hot spurt bursts in your tummy and you moan at the warmth. You usually detest having clients cum in you, the clean up was irritating. Koala, however, is an exception. He's invited to cum where he pleased when it comes to you.

Hearing him though the walls is bliss, and you wish you could see his face. He's probably still wearing that stupid mask, you think.

Chris lets himself give a few more good thrusts before pulling out, leaving you empty. He uses his thumb to spread your pussy lips to look at how your cunt pools his cum out. He hums at the sight, and gives your pussy a slap. You jolt and yelp at the contact, still sensitive.

"Guess I'll take you answer as a yes," he suddenly says.

Rather than leaving, Chris keeps massaging his cum and your own around your lower lips. You sigh contently as you feel him explore your folds. He's not doing it hard enough to give intense pleasure, but enough to feel soothing. It must be a mess down there, but Chris is entranced by the sight.

He so distracted that he didn't hear Lee Know's footsteps coming at the side of him. It's not until Chris feels his presence that he turns. They make eye contact for a moment before Chris straightens up, wiping his wet hands on the wall. The men have a silent exchange of words before Chris withdrawals his hands from you.

Before you can protest, Koala gives you brief reassurance. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You hear his footsteps leave along with another pair of feet. His sudden departure leaves you feeling somewhat cold, but you quickly dismiss the feeling. It's business, nothing personal. It's something you've had to remind yourself for years working this job. This particular instance, though, leaves you more than just your pussy empty.

"See you tomorrow," Lee Know mocks Chris's earlier words on the way home. Chris has no choice but to put up with Lee know antics. He keeps rubbing in his face how he got to fuck five different girls while Chris only did one. Not that it really matters to Chris, but he knows that Lee Know is much more aware of his little crush now.

After finishing up his laughter, Lee Know throws an arm over Chris's shoulder. "I'm just teasing you man. But I was right you know. That you would like it." Chris can't help but smile upon seeing his friend's cheesy expression. "Yeah yeah, whatever," he playfully rolls his eyes.

"But really," Lee Know questions, "You'd be down to go again? Just for her?" Chris stops walking for a second to think, eyes up to the sky. The night is clear, stars and moon shining down on them. He doesn't know you well, only that your pussy and his cock belong together. Going to that club often would hurt his wallet over time, but he's starting to think that it may be worth it.

"Yeah, just for her."

a/n: really hope you liked it! feedback is appreciated. I am not planning on making a third part to this imma be honest, but I might write an epilogue if it's highly requested.

update!: third part here

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neonovember · 27 days

Note

OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors.

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it.

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in.

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?”

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month.

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-”

“No, no I want this” You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things”

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves.

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once.

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw.

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design.

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her.

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace.

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

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eureka-its-zico · 7 months

Text

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 3

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 12.6+

A/N: Guys. Idk where to start, but this chapter needs a warning because it is big and beefy. I didn’t want the 1.03-1.04 story arc to be dragged out further into 4 chapters and, because of that, this chapter exists. I truly hope it is one that you enjoy. It took a lot of time and love. So please, get out some 🍿 cause it’s going to be a ride. P.S. To everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, and sent me messages about Chaos in Their Bones: thank you. You have all made this such a wonderful experience and a fun one. I hope it continues to be one you enjoy 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1 Previous Next

So far Operation Petty was getting off to a rough start.

Your original plan of stealing every glass of wine Zoro poured seemed like a good one. Golf claps for everyone. Except, that good idea slowly began to disappear five glasses ago.

Unfortunately for you, and to the dismay of the entire table, you were a giggling mess.

After the sixth glass you were lucky you could even see straight. It wasn’t until after Zoro poured the next glass and slid it over to you the wheels in your head finally added all the small clues you’d missed. Zoro had let you think you’d stolen glass after glass of his wine. When in reality, he’d just been trying to get you drunk.

Zoro was already on his fourth bottle of wine and still seemed able to function like a person.

You leaned, not so gracefully, over to his side of the table. A “Psst,” hiccuping out of you to garner his attention. You knew you had it. He was just hiding a majority of his face inside the glass.

Just to make sure though - “Psst!”

“Ugh, Doc, we can all hear you,” Usopp said somewhere behind you.

You waved him off. Your eyes honed in on both Zoro’s.

“What do you want?” He hummed.

“Hey, Mosshead,” you snapped. That got his head to swivel an inch away from the safety of the glass. “You did this on purpose.”

You were leaning so far forward your cheek was almost flush with your arm. Your fingers wiggled near him and you watched as his eyes darted down to watch them before side-eyeing you.

“Yup,” he answered, sharply pronouncing the p. “You want to steal my wine as payback, well I can drink you under the table.” You weren’t expecting him to drop the glass and move towards you. The movement wasn’t huge, but he was closer than you anticipated and it made you scared to blink. “I can be petty too.”

Fuck.

He was so close - almost kissably close and - No! Why are you thinking of kissing at a time like this? When Zoro’s close enough you could see the sun kissed freckles that dusted over the top of his cheeks and nose. The playful glint in his eyes that brightened them to shine like mini constellations.

With a devious smirk sliding across his lips, Zoro regarded you one last time before he straightened up. His hand reaching out to take back the glass he’d previously sat down and brought it back up to his lips.

“You are diabolical,” you huffed.

When you went to straighten up, you felt your world tilt. You were going to need - “Can I get some water, please?”

You needed to sober up and fast. Inwardly, you could already hear your inner monologue being set up to chastise your childish behavior. You were so worried about Zoro and annoying him that it was all you focused on.

I’m not here for him.

You’d come with Usopp with the goal in mind to help Kaya. That was who you’d come here for and who you still had every intention to help. The plan to do so was still there, but somehow within the last few hours you’d allowed yourself to be distracted by a pretty face.

A soft cough from Kaya’s direction was all the clarity necessary to get your head back on straight. Or as straight as it could be in your current state. No more Zoro. No more looking at him, talking to him, looking at him-

You could sense him moving off to your right, but you were not going to look. Nope. Most definitely not going to look, but was your head tilting?

Drunk you seriously needed to work on some self-control.

You were heavily lost in your head again. So lost that you weren’t sure how many times Luffy or anyone else attempted to bring you into a conversation. It wasn’t until a gentle hand on your shoulder jolted you back into the present.

Looking to your left, you saw Usopp waiting for you to answer him. His concern etched into every scrunch of his face.

“Luffy asked how long you’ve been a doctor,” he offered slowly, as if he spoke too fast he’d lose you again.

“Well, technically, I’m a doctor-in-training.”

“So, not a real doctor.”

Of course, Zoro just had to butt in. You still weren’t going to look at him.

“I am a doctor. Naan has taught me over the years how to handle every illness and broken bone that has come through this village. I think one of the biggest things she’s taught me is that sometimes kindness can be the strongest medicine and other times defending those who can’t defend themselves is a bigger responsibility.”

“Wow,” Luffy smiled in response. “You must have helped a lot of people. Your grandma must be really proud of you.”

Luffy looked so…genuine. The very thought of you going out of your way to help others seemed to make him regard you differently. While the smile on his face wasn’t expansive and filled with its usual childlike mischief, it held one of praise. As if it was a rare thing for someone to have the drive to help another person. Maybe over the last decade or so that might have been true, but Naan didn’t raise you to turn a blind eye to those in need.

You couldn’t help but respond to Luffy’s smile with one of your own. Although, you hoped it didn’t wilt as you prepared yourself with your reply.

“She’s an orphan,” Sham interjected as she set down a dinner plate that was intricately decorated with fish and vegetables. “Usopp too. Isn’t that right?”

Not true. Orphan meant that there had been no one there for you. No family to help take care of you when you needed protection, and while Naan wasn’t your real grandma she was family because she chose to be.

You dropped your hands down into your lap and could feel your fingers curl into your palms.

“What does it matter if they’re orphans or not?” Your eyes narrowed in on Nami. She sat beside Luffy, opposite of Usopp, and her cool gaze was trained on Sham. She watched closely while Sham placed the next plate hastily down in front of Usopp. “I’m curious to hear your answer.”

“Forgive my staff, Miss,” Klahadore stepped in. “Sham spoke out of turn when it was not her place.”

“I’m sure she meant no harm, Klahadore.”

Kaya smiled up at him and he responded with a smile of his own. You hated how Kaya was always apologizing for everyone around her, especially for those who didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Nami continued. “If she didn’t mean to say it she would’ve kept her mouth shut.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, guys,” Usopp offered.

You weren’t surprised to see him looking at Kaya. The two of them shared a small smile between them and it took everything in you not to lightly smack him on the arm. If Kaya wanted to be peacemaker, Usopp would do everything in his power to play along. Anything Kaya wanted Usopp would make sure he did everything in his power to make sure it happened.

What felt worse was that Sham’s attempt at an insult did bother you. It was meant to remind you that they considered you nothing, which was odd coming from waitstaff and a butler.

A doctor to pirates was about as valuable as gold.

“Yeah, not a big deal,” you mumbled. Your fingers riddled with your fork; debating if eating Buchi’s food was worth the risk. With your luck they probably poisoned it. “I do hope I make her proud someday, Luffy. I still have a lot to learn.”

Luffy was already a mouthful deep into his plate and wasn’t showing any reservation in taking another hardy bite. Thank god he waited to swallow first before he replied, “The fact you came here to help Kaya tells me all I need to know. You’re a good person, Doc.”

“That’s very kind of you, Luffy. Thank you.”

God, I will not cry right now.

Why did random words of kindness - from a stranger - matter so much? Luffy didn’t owe you any act of kindness or to bother being so nice to you or Usopp. Yet, here he was being an actual ball of sunshine. You knew dozens of people in this town who disregarded Usopp and his stories. Who grumbled and complained when he started talking. Luffy had only treated him with respect: he listened to his stories no matter how bat shit crazy they must have sounded.

You knew Luffy and his friends would eventually leave but for the time they were here (besides Zoro) you were grateful.

“It says a lot about who you are. You’re a good person.”

You felt your smile wilt a little as you watched a few flecks of food fall out of his mouth as he spoke. Flying food aside, you were really starting to count yourself lucky that Luffy and his friends ended up in your sleepy little village.

Sham was still depositing plates of tonight’s only special when you heard Kaya ask if she could try some. She’d barely finished asking before Klahadore was there beside her.

“I’m sorry that won’t be possible, Miss Kaya. You know how certain foods affect your constitution. Here,” he waved his hand free from his chest ushering in Buchi. “Buchi has prepared your special soup.”

“Why is it blue?” You blanched.

When all eyes turned to regard you, you realized you hadn’t said that in your head. The wine was seriously starting to make your body too comfortable.

“It’s made with a special fruit,” Buchi growled back.

“What’s the name of the fruit? I’ve skowered this entire island top to bottom with Naan and have never seen a fruit that color here.”

“It’s imported.”

“From where-“

“It’s not important where her food comes from,” Klahadore interrupted. Each word was more forced than the last. “All that matters is it helps Miss Kaya.”

“If that was true then why is she still sick?”

Klahadore’s eyes were practically shooting daggers into your skull. You were willing to bet a million berry’s that if he got you alone in a room, you wouldn’t be making it out. That thought only seemed to ignite something inside you that you’d been pushing down for months.

You rolled your tongue along your bottom teeth as you struggled to reign in your temper. The wine made your blood warm and fuzzy, but now you felt as if you were boiling alive. Your legs were bouncing uncontrollably underneath the table and your hands were curling into fists-

Suddenly a hiccup of a gasp lodged itself in your throat. The tip of a shoe was pressed gently against your ankle and the tip of said shoe belonged to the very moss-headed oaf who’d been plaguing your every waking minute. Yes, you said you weren’t going to look at him, but you didn’t expect him to touch you. Even just this small amount.

When you did glance at him, Zoro didn’t return your stare. His eyes were trained solely on Klahadore with a slight draw of his brow confirming your suspicions. Zoro was starting to notice something was off with Klahadore too and was warning you.

“Kaya it’s your birthday. You should be able to eat whatever you want.”

Nami’s soft voice cut through the tension and brought Klahadore back to the present. His eyes glazed back with mock servitude, but you’d seen it. Maybe now so had Zoro. Your eyes were only for Klahadore as you watched the exchange between him and Nami. You loved the way she was sticking up for Kaya and the challenge in her eyes as she stared him down-

“You need to relax.”

Fuck.

You struggled to keep a shudder from making its way down your spine but you weren’t so lucky in keeping the soft gasp from trickling out from your lips. The husk of his voice was unnecessarily sexy.

Slowly, you turned to look to your right and found Zoro casually sitting back in his seat. His eyes trained forward and his hands took his silverware as if he hadn’t just whispered across your skin like sin.

You couldn’t think past what had just happened. It didn’t matter how much you tried to formulate a sentence. Your brain was just not having it. You could do this. You were an intelligent woman who was not easily swayed.

“What?”

A masterful reply.

Zoro looked at you from his peripherals before placing the napkin down into his lap.

“I would stop antagonizing him before he kicks you out.”

And here you thought he was just worried about you.

“I’m a doctor and Kaya needs me.”

“Has she told you that? Has she physically looked at you and specifically asked for you to save her or do you just need to feel important?”

“Why are you such an asshole?!”

You spoke every word through gritted teeth. The anger that Zoro erased by killing your brain cells, which now felt like an insult to yourself, was stoked back to life. Your body singed with the need to get a hold of him because - who the fuck talked to people like this?

What you hadn’t expected was for that anger - god, that hurt - to soak deeply into your words. Each one raised and sharp with the intention he knew you meant it.

Zoro didn’t respond. He just started eating his fish. You suddenly didn’t feel hungry.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t want to look at Usopp. Not when he sounded like that. What would happen if you did? Would you cry or scream that you weren’t? The panic you’d been shoving down the last few hours was beginning to weasel its way to the surface. You were running out of options and ideas on how you could help. What if Zoro was right? What if Kaya didn’t need you and you’d allowed yourself to be dragged into a story that wasn’t real?

The thought alone was enough to make you look at your best friend and the panic was replaced with guilt. The shame was enough to make the first sharp prick of tears threaten to spill free from your eyes. Usopp didn’t deserve your anger or your doubt. He may have told a lot of stories, but he was good. His heart was pure. You weren’t worried about whether or not you smiled at him if he could tell you were lying. You knew somehow Usopp would understand your frustration.

“Yeah, Usopp everything is alright.”

He side-eyed Zoro over your shoulder before he brought his attention back to the room. Clearing his throat, he looked over at Luffy and asked, “Luffy, isn’t there something you wanted to talk to Kaya about?”

“Ah, yes. Usopp tells me that you own the whole shipyard.”

Kaya smiled gracefully in reply, before she looked away. A sadness creeping into her voice.

“Well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard, and Merry’s been running the business since…well since they passed.” You watched as Luffy followed her words and glanced over to the man sitting at the table. A courtesy raise of his glass to salute the dead. For a split second, all the joy in Luffy was replaced by something that didn’t seem to fit. A melancholy that didn’t belong. “But all that’s about to change. At midnight tonight I will become sole owner.”

“Ah well, that’s great because we want to buy a ship from you.”

Now this was the Luffy you’d grown to know. All smiles and cheerfulness like a rainbow as he lifted his champagne glass and took a sip.

“I see,” Kaya responded in kind. “Usopp mentioned that you were sailors.”

“Nope, not sailors. Pirates.”

Your head spun sharply back in his direction. He seemed so happy about what he just said. Like it wasn’t the worst kind of omission that could get you all killed or arrested by the local Marines. Usopp definitely had a reason to be choking on his own drink.

You glanced at Nami and back at Zoro and both of them, respectfully, looked worried as shit.

“Pirates?”

“Yep. We haven’t sailed together for very long, but we have already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a Marine captain with an axe for a hand!”

“Usopp, what is he talking about?” You whispered sharply over to him.

Usopp was still covered in his own spit as he furiously tried to wipe it off. The worry evident in the fine creases in his forehead as he glanced around the room.

“I don’t-“

“These sound a lot like your adventures, Usopp,” Kaya mentioned lovingly.

“Yeah. It’s crazy.”

Kaya thought that Luffy was joking! While you were sure Luffy meant what he was saying you were also incredibly confused. Pirates weren’t nice. The ones you’d met a few times had forced Naan to help them. They’d been rough, mean, and downright nasty. Luffy was none of that.

“Oh yeah, and we are just getting started!” Unexpectedly, Luffy stood up in his chair and began to stand on the table.

“What are you doing?” Klahadore snapped as he came forth from the shadows. “Get down from there this instant!”

“Being a pirate has been my dream for as long as I can remember and I’m finally going to make it a reality. We are heading off to the grand line where even more adventures await us.” With an eager smile gracing his lips, drink in hand, Luffy began to walk his way down to where Kaya sat. “At the end of the journey I’m gonna find the ultimate treasure, the One Piece and become King of The Pirates.”

When he got to Kaya Luffy stopped and took one last sip of his drink before handing it off to Klahadore. You would honestly pay to have this moment replay in a time loop, it was so damn good. Besides the fact that, you know, they were pirates.

“Kaya, you have a beautiful ship out there. A caravel with a sheep figurehead. It spoke to me. That is the ship we need to follow our dreams. I promise we will take care of it. Maintain it. Because a ship isn’t just a vessel; it’s also a home.”

It felt like such a genuine moment. Luffy didn’t appear to be like every pirate you’ve ever met. They were usually selfish, ugly, and cruel men who found pleasure in others misfortunes or creating them themselves. Even now, after his confession, it wasn’t the vibe you got from Luffy, and that’s what made it all the more confusing.

“That will be quite enough!” Your body gave a jump in surprise as Klahadore screamed. His body thundering over to stand next to Kaya. “I should’ve known Usopp would bring rift raft to our doorstep.”

“Klahadore it’s okay-“

Kaya tried to defend them, but a violent coughing fit cut her short. Usopp edged toward the end of his seat noticeably wanting to get up and go to her. The both of you knew if he made any moves right now, unfortunately, who knew what this butler would do.

“Now look at what you’ve done. You’ve all upset Miss Kaya. I want you all out of here, at once!”

“No,” Kaya interjected. “Let them stay the night.”

“Very well, Miss Kaya. But they are out of here first thing in the morning.”

Stay the night?

“Fuck,” you huffed under your breathe.

You had no intention of staying in this manor with any of them. You turned to tell Usopp you should both head back and noticed the way his puppy dog eyes followed Kaya as Klahadore led her away. He wasn’t going to leave her and maybe that meant you shouldn’t either.

“Well, that went well.”

Luffy really needed to learn to read the room.

You waited for Buchi and Sham to follow after their master before you pushed back your chair and did your best not to trip on any of the tulle at your feet. You needed to get out of this dress immediately. It wasn’t because you were much of a fighter. No, that wasn’t you. However, you did enjoy running from danger and this dress made it damn near impossible.

“Where are you going?”

Luffy and his kaleidoscope of happiness. You wondered what it was like to always be so optimistic.

“I am going back to my room and probably leaving.”

“What?” Usopp turned to look at you. “Why are you leaving.”

“Yeah. What was all that holier than thou talk about helping her,” Zoro cut in.

“Oh, what the hell does it matter to you, anyways?” You snapped. “First, you insult me for trying to help and now you insult me, again, for leaving.”

“Cowards give up when it gets hard.”

Was it physically possible to blow smoke out of your nose? It felt like it as your eyes narrowed in on him. He didn’t even have the decency to look at you.

“Zoro, you got a real stick up your ass,” Nami huffed as she grabbed her glass and took a drink.

“That’s not the real reason she wants to leave” he shot back, eyes on Nami. “Is it? It’s because she heard the word, “Pirates.”

“That’s crazy,” Luffy laughed around the words. “We’re good guys.”

“Pirates are not good guys,” you snapped at him. It was your turn to feel like an asshole as you looked between them. Luffy noticeably hurt. “I have met plenty of pirates when they came looking for Naan and her services. She hid me every single time, because she was scared of what they might do. If they would take me. Doctors are more valuable to pirates than gold. That was the lesson she taught me and I learned it well.”

“Pirates have been to Syrup Village?”

Usopp didn’t seem to grasp the fact that they hadn’t come raiding and he’d have to ring the bell for real. No one knew how close pirates really were to Syrup Village. It was one of the reasons why Naan’s home was hidden so deep within the bamboo forest.

“Yes, Usopp.”

You needed to get away. You were tired - drained - from feeling like you needed to apologize to them. You didn’t know what's real anymore and maybe you were being a coward. Maybe you were just tired of being wrong.

With one last tug on the tulle, you moved away from the table and gave them one quick glance before you headed out towards the dining room doors.

————————————-

It’d been over an hour since you’d made your less than graceful exit from the dining room. Even after getting back into the comfort of your own clothes, it didn’t keep the nagging feeling that you’d been an asshole from clawing its way to the surface.

You had been an asshole.

You’d been pacing the confines of your suite chewing on your nails until you were positive you must have gnawed them into dust. There was no denying Kaya’s home was beautiful. It was everything you could imagine money could buy in the form of creature comforts, but there was no happiness within its walls.

The room you’d been given was more than what you and Naan lived in now. When you’d first been shown inside, you’d felt silly having all this space and having no idea what to do with it. It was all lovely. From the four poster bed with intricate wooden detailing to the velvet curtains that ran the length of the wall that held a window overlooking the garden. The wallpaper, you were positive, held gold within its designs.

It wasn’t the fanciest, but you would take your small home with Naan then stay in a place like this. Speaking of home…

It would be so easy for you to turn tail and run. To go out the front door and never come back but what would you tell Naan? That you never got to see Kaya? That you were unnecessarily rude to a group of people who’d been nothing but friendly (except one) all because their captain called them pirates?

Coward. That’s what Zoro called you. The worst part was maybe he wasn’t wrong. So, ninety-five percent of your plan had gone to shit. You at least still had five percent of it.

Neither Luffy, Nami, or Zoro did anything that warranted your hasty judgment, and nothing they did reflected what you’d been exposed to all your life. What you hated the most was that you could feel the need for an apology brewing in your gut, and if you didn’t do it you would never get any sleep.

After you’d gotten dressed and strapped on much more comfortable shoes, you made your way out of your room and back inside the maze of hallways. You were closing in on the main corridor when the sound of a door opening made you stop in your tracks.

What if it was Sham? You prepared yourself to see her unpleasant face when orange hair wrapped in an orange designed bandanna crept out into the hall.

“Nami?”

She startled as you called her name and turned to face you. The sound of clanking caught your attention and your eyes followed the sound to a very filled pillowcase in her right hand.

You quirked an eyebrow as you asked, “Doing some spring cleaning?”

You watched as her usual friendly demeanor changed into squared shoulders and eyes filled with defiance. It made you feel like you were about to embark on a fight you didn’t realize you were having.

“You want to hurl some more generic insults my way? Tell me how much of a bad person I am-“

Now you were raising your hands up but not in surrender. It was an attempt to quiet her down. You’d already been berating yourself about words, and the power they held to equally heal or destroy someone. How many times had Naan chastised you about being reckless with your words? Reminding you that the things spoken can be enough to heal or mend hearts and bodies, but can also easily break them.

“A healer is more than just someone mending a body, girl. Sometimes we heal by listening. Giving dying men the forgiveness they seek.”

And here you were slinging verbal canon balls at these people.

I’m such an asshole

“Nami! Nami! While I hundred percent deserve that, it’s not what I was going to do.” She didn’t seem like she believed you in the slightest. That was fair. “I was actually on my way to try and find you guys.”

“Why? So, you could tell us some more about how you hate pirates?”

“Okay. That’s fair.”

“Oh, I think that’s more than fair. You are not the only one who hates pirates or holds the lottery for the shittest interactions with them.”

Again, your hands were up. Why did this have to feel like you were with a lion inside of a cage? One wrong move and you were sure she was going to bite your head off.

“I never said that, ok? Did I have a shit reaction to finding out that you were pirates? Yes. That’s why I’m here. I came to apologize to all of you. You defended me tonight at dinner. You didn’t have to do that.”

All the anger that swirled in the gray of her irises began to soften. Good. At least she was no longer looking ready to turn you into literal sashimi.

“Yeah, we’ll, she was acting like a real bitch.”

“Agreed,” you hummed, “but that’s beside the point. You didn’t have to say anything but you did and how did I repay that? By being an asshole so on that note: Nami, I’m sorry.”

Why was she just staring? You thought your heart was going to explode out of your chest at any minute. Nami wasn’t smiling or appeared angry or upset. She was completely stone faced and you were desperately trying not to fidget.

“I think that’s the first time anyone’s apologized to me before.”

“That sucks.”

God, you really did have a way with words. Nami was equally as shocked at your bluntness, but in a way that sent a warm smile to lift the edges of your lips. Nami sputtered out a laugh as she placed her hands on her hips. The motion and sound of clinking whatever was in there reminding you both that she was currently doing something illegal.

“Are you going to say anything? Report me to Klahadore?”

Even just the sound of his name was enough to drop the smile from your face. A sneer replacing it as you replied, “God no. I’d rather just let you steal than say anything to that jackal.”

“You and the waitstaff seem to be big fans of each other,” Nami teased.

It earned her a laugh as you looked down the hallway. Just to be safe since you were both equally unwanted in the manor and, well, Nami had a pillowcase full of the house goodies.

“I suppose you could say that.”

You stuck your hand between you both and waited patiently for her to take it. Nami regarded your hand like it belonged to a sea monster.

“Friends?”

“I don’t have any friends.”

Her words were soft and direct. As if she’d come to terms with being alone for a while now. You didn’t pull your hand away and let it fall back to your side. You kept it suspended between the two of you, and patiently waited for her to feel comfortable enough to take it.

“Well, at least now you’ll know you have one in Syrup village.”

A spark of something ignited in her eyes and whatever it was your words made her think of, it wasn’t something happy. When a small smile curled her lips it didn’t reach her eyes. They stayed distant; mourning something you may never be made aware of.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Nami reached out her hand and gently grabbed yours. You waited to secure your fingers around her hand, just in case she had second thoughts. When she didn’t pull away you allowed yourself to fully smile at her, which earned you one back.

“Where were you headed to, anyways?”

You both released each other, and you started slowly moving around her to get to the corridor.

“I was going to look around for Luffy. I need to apologize to him too.”

“Check the kitchen. If you’re going to find him anywhere it’s going to be in there.”

“Thank you. You just saved me some time. See you later, Nami.”

You were a few feet away when she called your name. You turned halfway to see her still standing in the same spot you’d left her.

“Are you going to apologize to Zoro?”

“I’m still debating,” you answered truthfully.

You aren’t sure what Nami expected you to say, but apparently that hadn’t been it. She immediately erupted into laughter as she turned and headed to the next room.

You really hoped she wasn’t going to get caught by Klahadore or anyone else. You were positive it would get him all riled up and send him screeching for the marines to come. Maybe even throw in some insults, because that was just the kind of man he was.

It took you longer than you wanted to locate the kitchen and you were considering bringing it up to Kaya about putting signs up around the manor. Ones that let you know with arrows which way to go. Why was it so easy to get lost in such a big house? You were still trying to come up with a way to bring up that little suggestion when you heard Usopp’s voice coming from the kitchen. Usopp was there too? Your curiosity spurred you forward - almost at a sprint - until you heard another voice grumble from the kitchen.

“You don’t think she like - like likes me, do you?”

What kind of conversation were you walking into? You rounded the corner to find Usopp and Zoro staring at one another. Usopp looked hopeful while Zoro regarded him with as much emotion as a rock.

“You’re asking the wrong guy.”

“I would second that, Usopp.”

At the sound of your voice all eyes turned to you.

“Doc! Hey! What brings you to the kitchen?”

Luffy sounded like his usual happy-go-lucky self. He didn’t seem to be holding a grudge or feelings about what had happened only an hour ago between you. All Luffy seemed to care about was the leftover appetizers and being amongst friends.

How could you ever think he was anything like other pirates?

His cheerfulness was contagious and soon you found yourself making your way around to the stairs. Luffy waves you down to join him with an appetizer in hand.

“You didn’t seem to eat at the dinner. You should try some of these. They’re delicious!”

“Are you sure there is any left?”

“Oh, I have some in my pockets if you want those.”

He really was digging through his pocket to pull out some appetizers. You didn’t know why it surprised you so much but you couldn’t keep your laughter from bubbling to the surface.

“It’s okay, Luffy. I appreciate your willingness to share, but I’ll pass for now.”

“You sure? These are really good!”

Just to prove his point, Luffy popped whatever he pulled from his pocket into his mouth. His fingers noticeably tinted with a pink hue from it melting.

“Pretty sure.”

You snagged a stool on the opposite side of Luffy, which unfortunately kept you on the same side as Zoro. Who was actively staring daggers into your skull.

“I actually came to find you so I could apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“For how I acted at dinner.”

“Where’s my apology?”

Zoro’s husky voice cut through your good mood and instantly made you bitter. You turned in your seat to look at him, who was opening and closing drawers every two seconds.

“I’m still debating on if you deserve one.”

Zoro had been opening his next set of cupboard doors when he stopped short. His head tilting the slightest to glance at you over your shoulder. You waited for him to make another smart ass comment and when it didn’t come, well, color you surprised. All you got was a tick of his jaw before he turned back to opening and shutting doors.

“What is he doing?” You asked Usopp.

“He’s looking for something to drink,” Luffy offered up in between his next bite.

Where the hell did he find a chicken leg? You fixed yourself to sit more comfortably on the stool and placed your satchel on the table. You looked between the three men again and remembered what it was they’d been talking about before.

“So, what were you guys talking about?”

Usopp scratched the back of his neck and looked anywhere but at you. What was making him so nervous? You’d been friends since you were kids. There literally couldn’t be anything that embarrassing-

“Usopp is in love with Kaya and wanted to know if we think she’s in love with him too.”

Luffy happily continued to eat the chicken that you still couldn’t figure out where it came from. Usopp, on the other hand, looked like his soul was about to leave his body.

“Sounds about right.”

Your response must have been a shock to Usopp because that’s exactly how he looked. His hand was still nervously fidgeting with his bandana.

“You know?”

You rolled your eyes as you looked around the kitchen island. Maybe you were starting to feel a little bit hungry.

“Usopp, even Naan knows how you feel about Kaya. She called it like two years ago.”

You were still looking for something to eat when Luffy slid a plate with chicken thighs and legs between you. They smelled wonderful and the skin was perfectly crisp. It was garnished with what might have been green onion or chive.

“If you guys are going to talk about feelings I’m seriously going to need a drink.”

“Shocker.”

The few steps Zoro took came to an abrupt end just a few feet from you. You had a piece of chicken thigh between your lips as you made eye contact with his award-winning brooding face. There was a millisecond, as you both looked at each other, that you wondered if he would’ve replied.

“There’s a wine cellar down in the basement.”

“Why didn’t you mention that before?”

Usopp opened and closed his mouth. While he was unsure of what to say, you felt like you had plenty. Usopp didn’t waste another second as he grabbed his satchel off the island and started leading Zoro up the stairs.

“Luffy, you coming?”

“No, you go ahead. I’m going to sit with Doc for a while.”

They were walking on the opposite walkway, high up enough to look down at both of you. Zoro glanced over his shoulder at the both of you and it took every last ounce of control on your body not to stick your tongue out at him.

How odd it was that you felt like you could actually breathe now that he was gone. Sure, you knew you should say sorry to him and, realistically, him calling you a coward was part of the reason you’d stayed. Did you ever want to share that information with him? Hell no.

The man was already insufferable enough. You didn’t need to add to it.

The sound of Luffy’s chair scraping against the floor brought you back to where your attention was needed: Luffy. Not Zoro’s retreating back.

Why did he have to look good from both sides?

Shaking your head to bring you back to why you came there in the first place, you watched as Luffy went back to walking around the kitchen. He kept searching until he came across a bronze pot that was left on the stove. When he lifted the lid you could see the neon blue hue of Kaya’s soup from where you sat.

“What are you doing?”

Luffy turned with the large pot in hand and walked back over to the table. He looked like a child who’d gotten lost in a chocolate factory.

“Eating.”

You felt your brows enter your hairline and possibly the ceiling as you watched Luffy bring the pot to his lips, and begin to gulp the contents down.

“Are you seriously going to eat all of that?”

He took a few rather large gulps before he set the pot down to look at you. A blue mustache formed on his upper lip.

“Soup isn’t my usual choice, but it’s not half bad.”

You tried to shake the smile off your face but failed miserably.

“You know, you don’t need to apologize. I understand being protective of the people you care about.”

The change in topics was giving you mental whiplash. Luffy regarded you with a softness you hadn’t expected. Underneath was that playfulness you’d grown accustomed to, but it was submerged under something serious. Or as serious as Luffy could be. It was the softness you hadn’t expected, however, and you quickly looked down at your hands.

“Naan raised me to admit when I’m wrong, and I was wrong, Luffy.”

“You talk about your Naan a lot.”

“I have a lot of respect for her. She didn’t have to take me in, teach me what she knows, but she did. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay her.”

Luffy regarded you coolly as he picked up the pot and took another giant gulp. His mouth was getting bluer by the minute.

“I’m sure she appreciates you helping her, but I don’t think she’d want to keep you from your dream.”

“I don’t have a dream.”

“Everybody has a dream. Mine is to be King of the pirates. Now you say yours.”

Luffy was right. Everyone has a dream. Just not all of them were attainable. There were realistic dreams and unrealistic ones and yours had to be classified under the latter. Luffy’s too.

But who was to say dreams weren’t attainable if you weren’t willing to strive for them?

You inhaled sharply, your words exhaling in rush.

��I want to be one of the world’s greatest doctors. I want to help people. Not just humans, but fishmen and people who have eaten Devil fruits. Their physiology is so changed that no one knows what happens when they get certain wounds.”

“That’s great because I ate the gum gum fruit.”

How could anyone just casually chug an entire pot of soup? Or openly share that kind of information.

“I’m sorry, what was that? Did you just say you ate a Devil fruit?”

“Yup. It turned my body into rubber.”

“I have so many questions.”

“It’s a long story.”

His words came out slurred; as if they sat heavy on his tongue and made it impossible to speak. You watched as he blinked slowly to try and clear his vision and when that didn’t work he went to stand and immediately stumbled backwards.

“Luffy!”

Your body immediately launched itself over the table. You didn’t care that your clothes were covered in a rainbow assortment of food. By the time you’d already made it to his side of the table, Luffy fell back against a cabinet. His body sliding limp to the floor.

“Luffy! What's wrong? Can you tell me what you’re feeling?”

He was obviously lethargic. His pupils blown wide and unable to focus. It sounded like he was trying to answer your previous question, but his tongue had swollen up making none of it audible. You barely reached him before he completely crumbled to the floor. Your hands dove underneath his arms until you pulled him into a bear hug.

Luffy was too damn heavy. If you kept holding him you would end up in a heap together on the floor. With as much strength as you could muster you tried to hoist him onto the table.

“Zoro! Usopp!”

As you pulled him up onto the table, you heard countless silverware and plates crashing to the floor. There was so much commotion surely someone would have to come investigate. You didn’t have time to wait to see if anyone did. After you had him laid out as good as you were going to get him, you rushed over to his head. You pulled up his eyelid and watched as his eye rolled up inside his head.

“Damn it! Zoro! Usopp! Where the fuck are you guys!”

The panic in your voice was tittering on hysteria. You wanted to scream. You definitely were going to start crying if your brain didn’t get it together. Luffy needed you.

You placed two fingers on the artery in his neck. His pulse fluttered against your fingertips and with each beat felt slower than the last. Drawing your hands back you noticed the slight foam that was forming at the corners of his mouth and - “Poison.”

Your eyes zoned in on the now empty pot. Luffy had eaten all of it and whatever was inside was enough to make its effects be instantaneous. It was the same soup they’d given to Kaya. The same color as her tea.

“Son of a bitch!”

They’d been poisoning her this whole time. The only reason she didn’t drop dead in front of them was because she’d never even taken a bite. Every time Usopp told you stories about Klahadore, Buchi, and Sham it always felt off. None of it ever added up and now, now you know why.

Those bastards had been trying to kill her this whole time.

A soft groan huffed from Luffy bringing you back to the very important present. Why hadn’t anyone answered you? It didn’t matter. You needed to help Luffy - Kaya - before it was too late.

“Luffy, I have to go back to Naan’s. I can’t carry you out of here or we won’t make it. I promise I’ll be back. I’m going to save you. I’m going to save Kaya.”

With one last look at Luffy, you tightened the strap on your satchel and bolted for the nearest exit.

——————————

Your lungs were screaming with every breath you took and your muscles burning, threatening to collapse, as you pushed forward. You couldn’t afford to stop running. Not since you left the front door of Kaya’s house. The last time you saw Luffy glued itself to your retinas and refused to let go. A constant reminder that no matter how much your body wanted to give up, you couldn’t let it.

Luffy and Kaya were counting on you.

By the time you passed through the town and started up the hill behind the tree line to Naan’s you were running on fumes. It was probably the reason why you not so gracefully barreled through the front door. Your legs wobble to a shaky halt as you attempt to walk them over to the cupboard that held every tonic known to man.

“Naan! Naan, I need help, please!”

Your voice cracked and melted into the old boards of the house. You were still struggling to catch a breath as you opened the doors to the cupboard. Everything about you felt unstable. Your hands shook as they moved around the bottles, almost toppling them over and threatening to make a bigger mess of your night.

“What in the hell is going on down here?”

Naan’s voice crocked with sleep but her words were full of fire. She was pissed you woke her up, but it was all for a damn good reason. The dim light from her candle grew brighter as she advanced down the stairs.

“Naan, I’m down here. Please, I need your help.”

You rushed to the stars to wait to help her down the rest of the way. The minute she grabbed your hands to help her down, you moved to take her toward the cabinet but she held on tight. She wasn’t budging until you looked at her. She called your name repeatedly to get you to look at her. Why wouldn’t you look at her?

The overwhelming feeling of failure was crashing in on you. You’d known. You knew, in the pit of your stomach, that something wasn’t right with them. You should have fought harder. You could’ve done more and now, now Luffy was dying of a poison Kaya ingested for years and Nami, Usopp, and even Zoro were in danger.

A sob tore its way out from your throat, through your lips, and ended in a guttural scream.

“What in the hell is happening, child?”

“Naan,” you sobbed. “Naan, Luffy has been poisoned-“

“Poisoned?”

“With the same stuff they’ve been giving Kaya for years. Kaya has slowly been poisoned and she’s going to die. We need to help her. I need to help them Naan, please.”

You weren’t sure when it happened. When you were no longer supporting Naan but she was supporting you. Her paper thin hands held your face gently as her thumbs smoothed your tears down. She made you follow her breathing until your breaths were even and slow. Only then did she begin to talk to you.

“Do you know what kind he ingested?”

Fuck.

“No, I-“

Naan held her hand up to stop you. With one hand still supporting her weight on your arm, she came off the last step and moved towards the cabinet you’d massacred. You knew Naan had noticed it too when a displeased click of her tongue filled the silence in the room.

“If you don’t know what it is, it could be tricky. I can give you what I have, but you are going to need to examine them both before you give them anything. Give them the wrong one, and it will kill them as quickly as the poison will.”

Naan calmly went through each bottle. She knew by heart where everything would be. Just like she could blindly feel through ingredients or measure it without actually measuring it. She turned around with five bottles clutched in her hands and shuffled her way back over to you. She motioned for you to open your satchel and placed them one-by-one carefully inside.

“I don’t know if you should be doing this.”

For the first time, you heard the waiver in her voice. She watched as you secure your satchel closed; her eyes trained to the worn leather before she looked back at you. You weren’t expecting her to look so scared. It was your turn to place your hands on her shoulders and give them a soft squeeze.

“You’ve always taught me there is no greater service in life than to serve others. I can’t let them die, Naan.”

“I know,” she smiled sadly. The worry made the wrinkles more severe than before. “It’s just…be careful. Please.”

With another squeeze you did your best to smile at her, to reassure her, before you stepped back.

“I’ll be back, Naan. Don’t you worry.”

You didn’t know that for sure. There was a chance Klahadore or Buchi would spot you before you made it back to Luffy. Who knew what they were doing to everyone while you were here.

With that uncertainty of what could happen stewing in your chest, you leaned forward quickly and planted a kiss on Naan’s cheek before you bolted out the door. This time, your body was prepared for the brutal run back to the manor. You were almost to the edge of town when the bell rang out in warning and moments later the sound of Usopp’s, “The pirates are here!” Ringing out.

At the sound of his voice, you allowed yourself a moment to thank the universe that he was okay. You wanted to stop and turn back to the village. To find Usopp and ask him just to come back with you and the two of you would figure it out together.

Luffy didn’t have that kind of time.

With that truth taking over your thought, you began to pick up the pace. You had a captain to save.

—————————-

The front of the manor was beginning to be covered in the fog that was rolling in from the ocean. This was hands down the creepiest you had ever seen the Manor. It was giving definite horror vibes. The worst part? Even from this far you could see the damn pirate shutters were enabled.

“Fuck!” You screamed.

How in the hell were you going to get inside to help them? Those things were heavy and meant to be impenetrable. There was no way you were going to be able to break it down with a few kicks.

“Think,” you huffed, as your hand slid across your face.

What options did you have? You could go back to find Usopp, but there was a high chance you’d only end up missing each other in passing. You couldn’t just go up to the front door and knock. Not unless, you know, you wanted to die.

You were pacing back and forth when a very loud grunt echoed from the well.

You hadn’t read many horror novels, but the ones you had read, well, this was giving haunted zombie island vibes. You wish you could claim to be unafraid, but when the grunt came again, this time closer and louder than the last, you knew you’d be lying.

So, why were you ever so slowly edging your way towards the well? Curiosity did always kill the cat. Right when you finally got to the edge of the stone, you exhaled to prepare yourself to look over.

Who knows, maybe it was just your imagination overreacting. Right when you went to glance over the side, a hand smacked its way over the top and you felt your soul evacuate your body. A few seconds later, green hair popped over the top that sat on top of a familiar face, but your brain was stuck in fear mode, so when Zoro asked, “Doc?” The only response he’d gotten was your fist connecting with his face.

“What the fuck!”

His scream echoed into the well. You could hear him slipping and knew it was because you’d shoved your knuckles into his cheekbone. Just as he was about to slip, you launched yourself over the side to grab a hold of his arm.

“What the fuck!” Zoro shouted up at you.

“I’m sorry, okay! I thought you were a zombie and oh my god is that a fucking body?!”

You almost let Zoro go as your eyes focused on what looked like very real feet attached to very real legs.

“Yeah. It’s that Merry, guy.”

Zoro grunted as he tried to find purchase for the foot that had slipped. You were struggling to hold him up and each time his foot slipped it seemed to tug you down with him.

“For fuck’s sake, what are you made of bricks?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is my weight inconveniencing you? If it wasn’t for you I would be out already,” Zoro growled out each word.

“I said I was sorry, okay! What more do you want?”

You move your hand further down until you reach his elbow. At first, it seemed like a solid plan. Strategically, it was a better option to give you more leverage in helping pull him up. The reality of it was Zoro was sweaty - very sweaty - from climbing about twenty-feet up the inside of a well. The minute your hand clamped down on the lubricated skin, it slipped free.

When he started to come loose from your hands you expected him to scream. All you saw was a grimace as his back slammed into the wall of the well and a glare that could give death a run for his money.

“Just pull me up already and stop screwing around.”

“I am trying but you are a hefty, hefty man,” you stated with each word strained.

Okay. You needed to get serious. You’d allowed his weight to lift your feet off the ground. You swung them back until you could get your toes pressed against the River rock of the well. Your heels were still slightly lifted in the air, but you knew this could work in your favor. You took in a deep breath and began to lean back as hard as you could. It may not have been super comfortable, but it was pulling him up enough that you could hear his boot finally find the footing it needed.

“Okay, you can let go now. I said you can let go-!”

You fully intended to let go. Whatever Zoro had done to help launch himself out, mixed with your pulling, sent you falling backwards.

With Zoro landing directly on top of you.

His weight mixed in with the fall knocked your breath clean out of your lungs. You were trying to get your lungs to expand by letting your body relax so you attempted to think of soothing things. The night sky and her stars were looking incredible tonight. It was the clearest you’d seen them in a while. Too bad it was on a night like tonight.

Zoro slowly lifted his head up from your shoulder, his arms on either side of you, until you were both face-to-face. Suddenly, it felt like the air was knocked out of you all over again.

His skin still held a sheen from his previous excretion of climbing. The edges of his hair was damp with sweat giving him a look that reminded you of when you’d run into him earlier wet from his shower. It shouldn’t have made him look this damn good.

You were painfully aware that he was still between your legs. Zoro was close enough you could feel his stomach extend with each heavy breath he took. Could easily count the freckles that endless days in the sun had kissed on his skin. His lips were parted, eyes scanning your face, and for one devious miscalculation of judgment, you wanted to fist your fingers in his shirt and pull him towards you to see if his lips were as soft as you imagined.

Nope. Nooooope!

That moment was enough to bring you crashing back to reality. Plus, Luffy. Kaya.

You smack his chest for good measure. Just to let him know you meant it when you said, “Are you trying to crush me to death? Get off me!”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” he grunted.

Once he was up, you expected him to stick his hand out to help you up. Instead, he was already walking in the opposite direction of what appeared to be away from the house.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

You scrambled up from your spot and hurried to try and catch up with him. Your hands rearranging your satchel to make sure your bottles weren’t crushed.

“I’m going back to the house.”

“Yeah, so am I but the house is back this way.”

Zoro stopped for a split second to look behind you before deciding what you offered was wrong.

“How about we split up and figure out who was right?”

“Fat chance, Mosshead.”

You fell into step beside him and you were positive if Zoro could’ve, he would’ve thrown you down the well. Just to make sure you stayed away from him. If this was a different time, one where you didn’t just pull him from a well where a dead body was, Luffy wasn’t poisoned, and Kaya and Nami were in danger you would have steered clear of him. So, unlucky for you both, you were newfound partners in unfortunate crime.

Neither of you spoke a word as you continued to walk down the path. You were pretty sure that Zoro was sending you the wrong way. You were two seconds away from telling him he was most definitely wrong, and you’d been most definitely right, until you both observed something up ahead.

Was that marines? And were they carrying- “Luffy,” you said in a hush tone.

Zoro saw it too. Two marines were carrying his limp body between them until he launched himself forward and began vomiting in the trees. It shouldn’t be possible. Poison when ingested - by anyone - was fatal. Even with as much vomiting he was doing it shouldn’t be possible. And yet, you saw it happening.

It has to be the Devil fruit…

Zoro waved for you to hide inside the bamboo but you brushed him off. As quietly as you could, you reached down and grabbed a fallen bamboo branch. You made sure you had a good grip on the bottom as you made your way quietly forward.

They were arguing between themselves. One of them with an extremely terrible haircut was holding a gun to the other with glasses and back to Luffy. The two spare marines were just standing watching and-

With as much force as you could muster, you smacked the one on the left on the side of his head. Zoro just used his fist for the other one. At the sound of their bodies falling, bad haircut turned around and when he saw Zoro walking towards him he turned sheet white.

“Zoro!” Luffy called happily as he got to his feet. “And Doc?”

You scratched the back of your head as you watched Zoro knock out bad haircut in one punch.

“Yeah. I came back to rescue you. Surprise,” you joked, throwing your hands up in mock celebration.

“Thanks. Come on. We need to get back to the house.”

Without another word, Luffy pressed between you and started making his way back towards the house. You side-eyed Zoro to see if he was paying attention, because Luffy had just proven you were right. You opened your mouth to tease him when a soft shout of Luffy’s name sent you all turning to see who it was.

They stood in front of you - pale as moonlight - and a little frightened with black rimmed circle glasses and pink hued hair. You weren’t sure who they were but all you needed to know was that they knew Luffy by name.

“Koby, I know you got a job to do. But I’m going to go back and help my friends. Don’t try and stop me.”

Yup. Luffy was officially the most polite pirate you’d ever met.

Koby gave Luffy the smallest of nods. A silent affirmation that he wouldn’t be following suit. You had so many questions about what happened between everyone tonight and would make sure to ask later. If given the chance.

Adjusting his hat back on his head, Luffy turned and started sprinting down the path. Zoro gave you one last look before he ran after him with his hands securely holding onto his swords. A soft groan left you as your feet padded along like the little engine that could.

“Ugh, why are we doing more running? I hate running.”

No one answered you and that was fine. You were going to need as much air as you could trying to keep up with the two of them.

——————————-

Zoro and Luffy were at the door when you came up. The two of them looked at the giant metal shudder. You were ready to tell them there wasn’t going to be any other way inside the house when Zoro bent down on one knee and worked his fingers underneath.

“That’s not going to work.”

Luffy turned to you with a wide smile.

“You don’t know Zoro.”

As if on queue, Zoro let out a grunt and began to push the shudder up. No way. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to even remotely lift it an inch. Usopp told you hundreds of times that pirate shudders were over six-hundred pounds of metal. They were meant to withstand canon balls and here Zoro was lifting it to his waist.

Luffy grabbed a statue and placed it underneath the shudder allowing Zoro to let go, and kick the double doors open. Luffy wasted no time in bending down and looking inside to make sure they could enter without interruption. When he was sure it was clear, he moved inside and Zoro shortly followed. Luffy went to shut the doors when you quickly moved inside.

“Doc, I think you should wait outside.”

“Fuck that,” you seethed. “These are my friends too, Luffy. I’m not leaving until I know they’re safe.”

Why was he smiling?

“Alright, but we split up. Cover more ground that way.”

Neither of them wasted any time taking off in their respective directions. It wasn’t until they were gone that you realized you didn’t have a clue where to go and what were you supposed to do if you found them.

You let out a huff of air that ended in a raspberry as you decided to go down the opposite side of the corridor than Zoro. You may not have any abilities from eating Devil fruit or be insanely good with swords, but you did have your wits. Yeah. That’s what was going to save you. Wits.

Maybe you could just go back to the kitchen and see if the pot was still there. If it was, you’d have a chance to get samples of what Buchi had laced inside the soup. In Kaya’s tea. God, just thinking about it pissed you off all over again.

If the house felt eerily quiet before, it felt even worse now. All signs of life were completely drained from the halls to the point your own breathing felt too loud in the large space. You were tempted to make noise, to call out for Zoro like playing a game of Marco Polo. Probably wouldn’t have been one of your best ideas in a house full of homicidal waitstaff.

When you got to the kitchen you made a quick note that the bronze pot in question was missing. Of course they wouldn’t have kept it. It was evidence of a plot they’d spent three years perfecting, but you just needed to search to be sure.

Quickly, you made your way around to the stairs and into the step down of the kitchen. Someone had done the dishes. It was all gone. You tried not to allow the bitterness of that thought to settle, but damn if it wasn’t hard. How were you going to be able to know what treatment to start giving Kaya if you didn’t have anything to base it off?

You looked around the kitchen one last time when the sounds of fighting erupted somewhere in the distance. It could be Luffy or Zoro. Hell, it could be one of the other three too. Either way, it didn’t matter who it was. You were going to help them.

First things first…

You looked quickly around the kitchen. There wasn’t much in the way of weapons that were going to strike fear in the hearts of anyone. You saw a tiny pot that was sitting on the sink counter and rushed forward to grab it by the handle. As soon as you knew you had it, you bolted back up the stairs and towards the main lobby.

The closer you got the more intense the fighting became. Swords. Those definitely sounded like swords, which meant it was Zoro fighting, but also someone else with swords. And here you were bringing a pot to a sword fight.

You weren’t given a chance to backtrack on your choice of weapon. The minute you came out from the French double doors that lead back into the foray of the house, you watched as Zoro fought off Buchi and Sham.

You never saw a real swordsman or met one for that matter. It wasn’t like Syrup village was brimming with up and coming anything, really, but as you watched Zoro effortlessly move between blocking and attacking you were willing to bet no one compared to him.

You were so caught up in gawking that you weren’t aware that Buchi and Sham were made aware of your presence until they hissed at you. Hissing? Really? You could feel a smart ass comment brewing, but now didn’t seem like the appropriate time to say it. Buchi was who turned on you first with Sham still attacking Zoro. She had her back to you, and when she came up from a missed swing you rushed forward and launched the small pot at the back of her head.

The sound of it connecting with its intended target resonated through the room. Sham’s head was as hollow as you thought.

Everything slowed down for a second as you all waited to see what would happen. Luckily for you, the result was Sham falling face first into the hardwood completely passed out.

“Holy shit. It worked! Zoro, did you see that!”

“You little bitch!”

How the hell did you forget about Buchi? He came stomping towards you causing the floor to shake as he did. You were getting ready to bolt in the opposite direction when Zoro jumped in the way. You took that as your queue to move.

You dashed toward where Sham’s body had fallen and kicked away her sword and - wait, was that a broom handle? You no longer felt embarrassed about using a pot.

Taking hold of the unconscious Sham, you began to move her more towards the front door. Zoro finished with Buchi with ease and knocked him unconscious. It didn’t dawn on you that something was different about him until he dragged Buchi over to where you’d placed Sham. Zoro was wearing a black bandana. And no, you did not notice how the veins in his arms were very much showing.

“We should get some rope to tie them up.”

“Good idea.”

By the time everyone made it down, Buchi and Sham had regained consciousness and you and Zoro were sitting far apart.

There was no denying when you saw them all come down the stairs, a relief so intense flooded your veins and soaked into your bones. When Usopp hugged you, you allowed yourself to hug him back just a little bit tighter.

A part of you knew that the adventures of yesterday would come to an end back in the shipyard. It would end with Kaya giving Luffy that ship he’d so lovingly given his speech for, and more so knew Luffy would ask Usopp to go with him.

It was Usopp’s dream - his real dream. Part of that dream was experiencing the freedom that the sea offered, just like his dad did. How could you ever ask someone you considered your friend - your best friend - to stay just because you weren’t ready to part with them? No. Usopp deserved adventures as grand as his stories.

While he’d been talking to Kaya you’d taken the opportunity to slip away. It’s not that you weren’t happy for him, because you were. The idea of not having him around anymore, however, began to dig a hole in your soul. So, you went to the one place that always mended it.

You were sitting with Naan at the kitchen table folding linens with water boiling on the stove and ingredients beside it. You were still waiting for Kaya to come by so you could perform an assessment. Before you could treat her, you would have to find out how extensive the damage was, and what would be the best form of treatment.

“So, Usopp’s going to be going, then?”

You didn’t expect Naan to sound sad. While she wasn’t mean like the rest of the village, she most definitely was not a fan of rising early just to hear the bell and the yelling.

“Yeah. They should already be out to sea.”

You were folding your next set of linens when Naan reached out and gently took your hand in hers. The act stops you from finishing the next fold.

“It’s all going to work out the way that it should, child.”

“I know, Naan.”

A knock on the door rescued you from having to continue whatever talk was brewing in Naan. It saved you from more than likely crying like a baby on her shoulder too. You got up from your chair and made your way over to the door when another knock came seconds before you reached it.

“Kaya, I’m coming! God, are rich people always so impatient?”

When you swung the door open, you hadn’t expected to find Luffy there smiling or the rest of the crew waiting behind him. Kaya was plainly missing from the group.

“Who is it, child?”

You felt too dumbfounded to speak. Why were they here?

“It’s alright, Naan,” you called over your shoulder, eyes still glued to Luffy. “It’s just Luffy.”

“Luffy?”

“Straw hat.”

The sound of her chair sliding back against the wood was what tore your gaze away. You looked back to find Naan struggling to get to her cane with her left hand holding her weight up by the table. You moved back from the entrance, waving him in as you rushed over to grab her cane and hand it to her.

“What are you guys doing here? I thought you’d be gone by now.”

“We were about to head out when the strangest thing happened.” You crossed your arms as you listened to Luffy. The cliff hanger his words left you on threatened to drop fresh anxiety into your gut. “I turned to get my crew onboard and realized my doctor was missing.”

“What?” You breathed.

“That’s you.”

You closed your eyes for a split second as you tried to collect your thoughts.

“Luffy, I wouldn’t make a good pirate.”

“You don’t have to be. Just like with Usopp, I saw what you did. The way you fought to protect people. I need you in my crew.”

You dropped your arms as you turned to regard Naan. The way her body leaned heavily on the cane. Her once strong body was becoming more frail by the day. You couldn’t leave her.

You swallowed hard before you replied, “Luffy, that is a splendid offer. One I don’t think anyone could pass up but I can’t leave.”

“Why the hell not?” Naan fired off.

“Naan-“

“And if you say it’s because of me, just remember you aren’t too old for me to throttle you with my cane.”

She finally pushed her hip from the side of the table and waddled over to the rack that held your satchel. Naan reached up and pulled it down, turning slowly until you came back into view, and tossed the satchel in your direction.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? You know, for being smart you sure can be dumb sometimes.”

Your eyes looked down at the satchel in your hands. You rubbed the worn leather with your thumbs as you remembered her giving you this very bag on your thirteenth birthday. The pricks of tears came unannounced and most definitely unwanted a few moments later. It made you terrified to look up. For her to see that saying goodbye might kill a piece of you, you’d never get back.

You’d never get her back either.

“Naan-“ You tried to speak but your voice cracked around her name. “Who is going to take care of you if I’m gone?”

A tsk of disbelief shot from her lips. Both her hands now came to rest on top of the cane as she regarded you coolly.

“I’ve been an old woman for a long time now. I think I can manage without you.”

“See - it’s settled,” Luffy began. “You are welcome to join our crew and that way you don’t have to give up on your dream.”

He remembered?

How silly that question was. He was Monkey D. Luffy. Of course, he was going to remember. Glancing down at the satchel in your hands once more you allowed yourself to debate one last time before you grabbed the strap and placed it over your shoulder.

Before you took that first step towards the door, you turned one last time to Naan and took one of her hands in yours. You tried to tell yourself you wouldn’t cry. You never cried, but the first tear slid down your face and called you a liar.

“Please, take care Naan. You’ve done so much for me, my whole life. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know where I would be.”

“Dead,” she stated matter-of-factly.

It was so blunt. So incredibly Naan that you couldn’t stop the sharp bark of laughter that came from you. The soft feather of her hand reached up to cup your face and forced you to look at her. A long silence pulled between you, and you wondered if she was going to say anything at all when a soft smile cracked her thin lips.

“Go, child. Be great.”

Shaking your head in agreement, the both of you broke free and you followed Luffy out of the house. You spared one last glance at Naan’s home - your home - and found her at the door seeing you off. You raised your hand in one last goodbye and watched as she did it too.

Maybe Luffy was right. It was time to go on your own adventure and you had no doubt Luffy and his crew were going to give it to you.

________

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@scarletrosesposts @yeetedandoboi @snixx2088 @blobfishyy @sourairi @nerdiestmothman21 @lynnieereads @zerosmilesahead @swthxrry @lovestruck-art @throwmethroughawindow @heyitz-julia @sabrinadelreyy @illusory-segurity @naomihatake @mrs--imperfect @shabzy1644 @fckwritersblock @glaciuswduo @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @fangeekkk @tfamidoingwithmylife @zaphira-san @kieth-reblogging @alotofrandomfangirling @emelia07 @hyrdr0citi

If I missed anyone, please let me know! TY

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