#it's fine to feel sympathy for him i'm not saying you can't

[fanatics4l]

no it's actually hilarious that this fandom has sympathy for vecna because they think he was abused as a kid. he wasn't abused. there were no implications towards this. him saying to el that there was more behind the story of his childhood does not automatically equal abuse. on screen, his father was clearly caring and loving towards his wife, daughter, and son. vecna saying that to el probably meant he "witnessed the cruelties of this world" and went insane about it like a fucking weirdo.

"brenner abused him" girl yeah that sucks but he was evil before that so invalid point

y'all can read so deep into this child murderer's story and find sympathy for him, who slaughtered and tortured teenagers and children and his own mother. you can pull shit out of your ass about his backstory, but the second we do the same for billy, who we actually have a concrete, canon backstory for, we're the bad ones??

friendly reminder that the only canon child abuse victims in this entire show are el, jonathan, will, patrick, chrissy, and billy.

[gas-station-trackphone]

ftm trans Eddie Munson gets turned into a chew toy for hell bats and rescued in the 11th hour by his friends who don't know he's trans, who have to run some triage first aid and can hardly make sense of the blood and gore that used to be his body as they cut off his shirt and pants to get access to the worst of the wounds, who definitely aren't in their right minds well enough anyway to think of anything other than stopping the bleeding and getting him to a hospital, which they do, and miraculously Eddie finds himself blinking awake in a bright, fluorescent room feeling exactly like he imagines a chew toy for hell bats would feel in the aftermath which is to say: like shit. Even more miraculously, he finds hometown hero Steve Harrington posted up at his bedside with greasy hair (!!! Eddie never thought he'd see the day) and bags under his eyes.

The overwhelming relief on Steve's face when he sees Eddie is awake is touching, the misty eyes and cracking voice when he says god, i thought you were toast, man are downright flattering and, let's face it, giving Eddie all the wrong ideas that he figures he has an I-almost-died pass for at the moment so he rocks with it, let's himself indulge in the fantasy for a moment. Then, gradually, Steve's relief becomes more and more obviously some brand of deeply felt pity (or sympathy, but Eddie's never been good at distinguishing the two), which bursts his bubble enough to call him out.

"I know I look like what comes out the business end of a meat grinder, but I swear I'm good, dude. They definitely have me on the good shit, I hardly feel it. I'll be good as new in no time." Big fat fucking lie, by the way, but he'll say whatever if it gets that wounded puppy look out of Harrington's eyes.

"I...yeah, Eddie, I'm glad." And whatever it is he doesn't want to say, whatever is putting that you poor motherfucker look on his face, he's absolutely the opposite of subtle about it.

Eddie can hear the manifestation of his panic on the heart monitor.

"What? What is it? Is everyone- is Dustin-?" He can't say it, can't even think it, would rather be slowly torn to shreds all over again than know he failed at his one fucking task to keep the kid safe.

"No! I mean, yes, he's fine, they're all fine. Henderson's got a broken ankle and both of Max's arms are broken but the docs say they'll be fine in a few months with physical therapy."

The release of tension in Eddie's body hurts almost as much as the relief soothes him. "Okay then, what the fuck are you not telling me? It's fine, I'm a big boy, Harrington, I can take it."

He sighs, looking sick with it. "Eds...I don't know how to tell you this."

Oh god, what the fuck. Eddie's right back to freaking out because Steve looks inexplicably guilty, pained in the face like he's about to deliver the worst news he could imagine but if everyone's fine then-

"It's your dick, man. It's- it's gone. The bats-"

And Eddie laughs so hard he tears about a dozen stitches, immediately stops laughing, and throws up over the side of the bed and thankfully not all over his freshly reopened wounds as Steve shouts for help.

Eventually, when he's all stitched up again and barely hanging on to his hard earned lesson to not literally bust his gut laughing about the look on Steve's face (he has to force himself not to tell Wayne the specifics of how he ended up back in the OR, because he's absolutely gonna crack up and Eddie will definitely be unable to help himself from laughing with him), he realizes he's going to come out to all his friends in the very near future because holy shit, he has to tell everyone about Steve's utterly devastated expression at the news of Eddie's Ken doll-ification by way of demobat.

[luveline]

hiyaa girlyy!! so i have a fic request and it's totally fine if you don't want to write / don't feel comfortable reading or doing it: and also, i'm not sure if someone thought of this yet, but how about spencer just being friends with a stripper. like their are murders ongoing abt strippers and spencer sees reader at one of the crime scènes and everybody's shocked since their sooo sweet and comfortable together? (and bonus point if she wears his jacket or something since it's cold)

thank you for your request! if you have more requests for this pairing please send them my way!

"I tried to call you!" 

Hotch looks up from his phone at the shout. He'd been texting Jessica one handed in an attempt to tell her and Jack that he won't be home tonight, and he isn't usually easily startled, but he isn't expecting you to talk to him. Or call him. 

He blinks back his fatigue —you're obviously not talking to him. You're almost nondescript in your hoodie, but Hotch isn't confident you're wearing any pants, or underwear. It was a rush job to bring everyone out from the club, and you and the rest of the dancers stand on the sidewalk in various states of undress. 

"Can we get some jackets, please?" Hotch asks, turning back to the beat cops standing by. "Thermal blankets? Anything?" 

When he turns back, Spencer's not where he was. Hotch casts his gaze back to you near the club doors, your hair messed up from the scuffle but your face intricate and untouched, just as pretty as the rest of your fellow dancers, and doubly so as you throw your arms around Spencer Reid's tall shoulders. 

"I'm so glad you're okay," Spencer says, squeezing you hard, your heels lifting off of the rain-sullied sidewalk. "I told you to stay home!" 

"I can't stay home, Spencer. How would I make money?" 

"I'll pay for the hours you miss, I told you that, too." 

"Baby, you couldn't afford it," you tease lightly, setting back down. Your hand immediately rises to Spencer's cheek, your painted nails scratching delicately at his skin. "I've missed you. Where have you been?" 

"California, then Albuquerque." 

"Killing bad guys?" 

Hotch doesn't consider Spencer a lonely guy, and he doesn't think he'd ever be collected enough to enter a strip club, and yet. There he is, hugging and checking over a stripper with as much care and tenderness as he'd show any member of the team. And judging by your smile, you're enamoured with him. Whether romantically or otherwise is anyone's guess. 

Morgan's, apparently. "Sorry, I'm sorry, does Reid have a girlfriend? Like, a…?" 

"You can say stripper," Emily says, though she's similarly nonplussed. "I mean, there's no way. Right?" 

"They're just friends," JJ says. 

The team turns to her in betrayal. Clearly, JJ knew about this and said nothing, and Hotch has things to do but this is so thoroughly bizarre that he gives himself five minutes of curiosity; he lets the others berate her for answers. 

"Come on, JJ! When did this happen? How did this happen?" Emily asks, her voice dropping to a scandalised whisper. 

In the background, Spencer peels out of his jacket that barely fits around your shoulders. You wear it anyhow, wrapping your arm through his and leaning on his shoulder. "Thanks, Dr. Reid." 

"I really wish you'd stay home when I tell you too." He rubs your arm amicably. 

"Her old boss was a typical heavy-handed sleaze," JJ explains, voice soft with sympathy. "Spence said he used to see her at the grocery store with bruises. She stayed with him for a few days and found a new club… He said she can smile through anything, even a broken wrist." 

Hotch understands. This part of Virginia pretends to be better than it is, and while you seem happy enough now in your profession, he knows it can't be easy. Spencer did for you what he would've done for anyone. You've clearly seen the good in him, treating him with a real and easy affection, adoring through shivers as you look up at him and ask, "Are you eating enough? You look tired." 

"I'm exhausted worrying about you. You're exhausting. Like, where are the sweatpants I got you? You'll get hypothermia." 

"I was trying not to get murdered. You're lucky I grabbed the hoodie." You turn to the team, as though you've known they were watching the entire time. "You wanna introduce me to your friends?" you ask. Hotch detects a hint of insecurity under all your bubbly sweetness. 

Spencer laughs loudly, ushering you forward with a hand on your shoulder. "Don't chicken out this time." 

"Don't embarrass me in front of the special agents!" you whisper. 

"I'm a special agent." 

"No, you're a doctor. He's a special agent." Your gaze narrows in on Hotch. "Hi, you're the boss, huh?" You eye his naked marriage finger briefly, and he knows you're kidding, but he still has to fight to stay expressionless as you continue, "How come handsome guys like you don't ever wanna see me dance?" 

Hotch puts out his hand. "Aaron Hotchner. It's nice to meet you." 

You shake his hand, though you stay as close to Spencer as you can manage without stepping on his shoes. "Right. Too respectful. It's really nice to meet you too, Agent Hotchner. Can you catch the bad guy soon? I'll end up on Spencer's cough again if I don't make rent." 

Morgan opens his mouth and Hotch promptly shuts him down with a raised hand. "We will. You have my word." 

[pretty-toru]

lovesick┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: fluff

୧ wc: 1.4k

୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.

Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.

How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.

But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.

No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.

"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.

"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.

"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."

"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.

"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"

"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.

"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"

"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.

"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."

As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."

"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."

"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.

"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"

"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.

"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."

When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."

With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."

Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.

"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."

"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."

Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.

"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"

Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."

"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."

"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader

...

"Come here, medic."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.

You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.

"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.

Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.

Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.

"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."

Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."

Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.

Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.

Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"

"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."

"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"

Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.

"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.

"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"

"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"

"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”

Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[dinanikto]

Spoilers: Episode 4 of the Walten Files

I think people misunderstood Felix as a character?

I've seen so many fans WISHING that Felix would actually die?? Like, "if I was Jack, I would beat the shit out of Felix" or "Felix, do a flip".

I thought it was shown pretty well that he is not in the right state of mind.

Before reading this, please, gather all of your compassion and sympathy, and listen to what I'm about to say with a clear mind.

Let's speak chronologically:

1) Felix and Jack meet in college and decide to create animatronic-based restaurant. They are teens/young adults in the year 1958-1964 (not truly canon, but close to). According to Martin, they're very close, they love and trust each other.

2) Jack meets Rosemary, they start dating. She creates designs for Bon and other characters.

Felix is, presumably, left alone to himself, as he doesn't have anyone else.

3) They graduate and contact CyberFun Tech.

Felix meets and marries Linda, while Jack and Rosemary have their first kid.

4) october 30th, 1964.

Linda notes Felix's heavy drinking and his poor self image. She's stressed and scared.

Felix is close with the Walten family. Jack and Rose get two more kids, and they all call him uncle!

And yet, he doesn't feel welcome. He uses alcohol as a coping mechanism. "He drinks for the sole purpose of drinking!"

Please note, the year is 1964!! Even nowadays not many people can get help and cure their addictions. Not many people believe that they can, or that they deserve it.

5) december 25th, 1970.

Krankens and Waltens are so close they spend Christmas together. And yet, Felix is burdened with something.

Jack and Rose are lovey dovey, Felix and Linda are not. Waltens have three kids that love their parents deeply, Krankens do not. Jack is happy, and Felix is not.

He's still using alcohol to calm himself down.

He can't control himself anymore.

Linda tries to talk to him, but Felix doesn't respond. Or rather, it's how Linda frames it.

"He feels bad about it, but doesn't try to change."

Honestly? Sounds like he tries to communicate, but his depression isn't letting him do it well. Again, it's 1970, and I don't think anyone has ever truly tried to help him.

He's a man. Why can't he man up? Jack is doing fine, why can't you, Felix?

Or why won't you just tell everyone how you feel? It's not like men have been bottling their emotions for decades now, right?

6) april 1974.

The Bon's Burgers is about to be open in a few weeks.

Felix and Linda have a fight (verbal). He hurts her feelings.

Jack asks Felix to pick up kids from a school party. Felix says no at first, but Jack won't listen.

Eventually, Felix says yes.

7) morning of may 2nd, 1974.

Linda leaves Felix. Only thing left after her is a note.

No talking, no nothing. His wife of 10+ years left him.

Have you ever gone through a breakup? A breakup with your spouse? Were you in an intoxicated state of mind when your wife left you? Were you depressed when seemingly everyone have left you?

Wait, right, he has Waltens. So of course he's gonna get those kids home, that's the only thing left for him! Everyone are asking him of it.

7) evening of may 2nd, 1974.

The car crash happens.

8) may 3rd, 1974.

He's awfully drunk. He's depressed. He got almost killed. He tried to kill himself twice. He has no one to talk about this with.

He has killed two children. Children that he loved.

Jack is going to hate him. And he does! Jack DOES want to kill him, Felix knows it even before speaking to him.

Note that he's not afraid of Rosemary.

9) may 3-6th, 1974.

He hides. He doesn't sleep for three days, and gets hallucinations.

He's scared. But the fact he actually faced Waltens is surprising. He's trying to fix things as best as he can.

10) may 6th, 1974

He lies. What else can he do?

Jack disappears. Susan disappears. Rosemary and Charles disappear. Brian and Ashley disappear.

And THIS is noway near his fault.

Bon's Burgers close. He has no money, several murder cases. Everybody is dead.

_____________________________________________

And after all of this, people don't find Felix even a little bit likeable? But support an agressive, irrational Jack, who was blind to his brother's struggling and pain? Who was the only person to not notice Felix's drinking problem?!? I'm confused.

I feel like Felix almost constantly. The mentally ill guy with no support system, that has no one to talk to. Never the one to get any help, even when having a "family".

And it's not like he thinks that he deserves love and attention. He never goes searching for Linda. He tries to end his life multiple times. He's masking as a nice corporate guy, while suffering internally.

He suffers more than anybody else in the series. And why? What did he do? Did anyone teach him how to deal with these situations?

In conclusion: don't hate people. Never ever wish the worst for them, especially publicly.

And if you associate yourself with Kranken? Try to get help. Again, and again, and again. We live in a scary, but wonderful world. Your life is worth living, you deserve to be happy. Don't give up.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn!reader, usage of honorfics (-senpai once, -san), submissive ish nanami, blowjobs, anal fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.7k (???????????)

✮ a/n ; i dont know what happened. not even a nanami girl. but. i see a man in need. nanami sorry for what every does to you.

It's so easy to get Nanami to bent out of shape.

He tries his best, you think. He tries hard, and he's a good guy. You always feel bad being around him and pulling your pranks and antics. You're not like Satoru - he's told you, because you're much more conniving. Unlike Satoru, who Nanami finds dishonest - he thinks you're too direct. Too plain in your admission, your admonishment, your praise.

He deserves a break, for all the tremendous pressure he puts on himself to do well and protect. to make something out of his life. There's some part of him you feel a lot of sympathy for, and another part that sees him for what he is. A man under duress who's practically begging for reprieve. He wants to vacation on a beach somewhere, but he can't.

You think it's natural - inevitable, that Nanami will give into your flirting. You lay it on thick every time he comes by. he's only unaffected in the brief stretch of time where he thinks you're teasing him. Because he's older than you, jaded, easy. When he realizes there's even the slightest bit of sincerity in your words, he suddenly can't look you in the eye.

It's a troublesome affair for him to have feelings for his junior. It's inappropriate, and he can't approach you in the way he likes. The way he likes being controlled and practiced. He's quite the gentleman. Later, you'll sure he'll wine and dine you nicely as a proper thank you. A man like that leaves no good deed unaccounted for.

But for now, you don't really want to let Nanami do anything for you. You've always wanted to do something for him. Break him down. Maybe it's your problem, since a man with that kind of neuroses always turns on the worst in you.

Still. Still. You can see something in him that no one else does, a desire to forget himself. You can give that to him without trying that hard at it, but it does take a lot of convincing.

He's got the handsomest face when he's embarrassed out of his fucking mind. He gets red. You've never seen it before - but his face is lit up. Pink up to his ears.

He's haphazard. Shirt unbuttoned but not off, tie loosened. He took off his pants but couldn't manage his boxers. You've been riling him up all evening, teasing and testing and pushing. When he finally kissed you later on in the evening, an expression close to a plea - you knew you had him where you wanted him.

So you made it to his apartment, kissed in his hallway, pulled him onto the couch and dry-humped like two idiot teenagers. He can't see him to control it after all your meticulous bullying and he looks so much better that way. Loosened up and picked apart.

He's so easy. It's unimaginable for you in some ways, that your cool and collected senior could break apart over something like this. He's normally so reserved, but you've breached some upper limit and now he's like this underneath you.

The muscles of his thighs are tense as you sit patiently between his legs, a hand on his knee with another wrapped around his shaft. you laugh a little at the state, the pre-cum dripping down your fingers and

"Nanami-san," you punctuate the honorifics "You alright up there?"

He lets out a sigh like he's been holding it in all evening. He tries so hard. So hard. You respect it, admire his endless resolve. He chokes down a sound as your hands grip around the base of his cock.

"Yes," He says, only barely masking the thin veil of desperation in his voice. He's almost begging you. You think you're probably awful enough to get him there "I'm fine."

"You sure? You're red in the face. Been a while? You seem like the serial monogamist type. When was the last time you got laid?"

In an act of unbelievable cruelty, you decide the best time to blow him is now. You open your jaw wide, stick your tongue out and let the spit pool onto the tip of his length. He hisses, almost bites a hole in his lip looking down at you in disbelief. His cock throbs painfully in your hand and you giggle - which makes him look down at you ashamed.

You blink innocently, silently imploring him to keep going. He sighs, an arm thrown over his eyes and his hand closed into a hard fist. You close your mouth around the head, minding your teeth. Nanami tastes like skin and salt and musk, but not unpleasant at all. His pre-cum taste clean, just like the rest of him is so prim and perfect. You dip your tongue into his slit, watching him squirm before taking him down even further.

"Could you please—for the love of—"

You slide off your mouth of to talk. You can't help but want to press his buttons.

"Come on, Nanami-san. You can withhold a little bit. You're so sturdy, y'know, more than I thought. Tell me about your sex life."

Nanami can recognize your words for what they are, because he knows you and the games you play with him. He frowns hard, meeting your eyes and closing his own with a sigh.

"I don't remember," Nanami tells you, honest - nearly biting a hole into his lower lip as you massage his balls with your hands, soft as you kiss down his shaft and lave your tongue over the thin skin "It's been a long time. Years."

"That so? You deserve an orgasm, Nanami-senpai. A good one. You really work hard," You punctuate every word with a touch, a squeeze before he shivers himself into a mess. "Every had anything up there?"

His eyes widen in shock and dismay, but not disgust.

"....A very, very long time ago."

"You okay with it?"

"....Well, yes. I guess so."

"Any lube?"

"There's uhm," Nanami stutters, rubs his eyes like he doesn't know where he is "Oil. In the drawer."

"Kay," You say, casually, patting his thigh as you reach over to get it and return to him no problem. He looks at you awestruck and you look back at him with nothing more to offer "Try and relax,"

You warm the oil up in your fingers first before you pull his cock up enough to touch his ass. The rim of muscle flutters as you touch it, slick thumb drawing circles around. He makes a noise you can't identify, followed by one you can. A moan, slight and quiet enough to go undetected. You grin silently as you ease a finger in, a thumb first then your pointer. Nanami breathes through the motion, and you move slow enough to get him to relax.

Once there's one, you go back to blowing him. He loosens up immediately when he feels the warmth of your mouth, hot and slick, suctioned around his cock. You relax your throat taking him deep, opening his ass at the same time.

It's more attention than he's had in a while. There's an unmistakble quality of lust, gargled words and sounds and shuddering. His chest is so flushed in the bare light of apartment he almost glows. You start with one finger and keep your blowing steady - start him easy with stimulation.

You get another, then another - and when your three fingers in, you decide you have some room to be relentless. Ruthless. You curl your fingers and search for his prostate. You know when you've found it because the sound he lets out is debauched.

It's easy - too easy, to get Nanami completely bent out of shape. Getting him this broken this fast almost feels like a trick of light - his dark brown eyes rimmed red and shaking. Such a composed gentlemanly sort moaning a fucking mess.

His strong chest is trembling as it rises up and down trying to catch a breath. You know when you find the spot because he nearly jerks his hips, but shows enough restraint not to do it. Not to fuck up into his throat animalistically like he wants so badly.

A well-trained man he is. You suppose all men can be a little like dogs.

So you reward him by deep-throating him. It takes all of your willpower and expertise but the reaction is more than worth it.

So polite, he doesn't even swear when he breaks underneath your ministrations. Doesn't cry, doesn't even scream when he wants too. His cock shudders and twitches and pulses against the warmth of your mouth, pre-cum streaming into your throat like a broken faucet. But he doesn't let himself cum, doesn't do anything but let you have your way with him.

No, he wants you to have your way with him.

You pull off and he whines. Whines. His voice, thick and deep, so pitched with need you almost want to laugh. You kiss his cock affectionately.

"You can cum when you feel like it. 'Kay?"

He just nods, speechless. Needy. You feel so good and a little sorry for him at the same time. But you're urged by a silent desire to ruin him at his very foundation.

So for the last time, you let your mouth come down on him and fuck him with your fingers. You give it everything, bobbing your hand and timing your rhythms well enough that your wrists hurt. It's a game of balance, but you manage it - because with even the slightest gestures or veritable movements, Nanami folds.

He caves in on himself, breathing ragged and practically drooling. Poor Nanami, you think. It's just so easy to get him this way, and it's fun too.

The words barely get out of his throat before he can warn you, frantically that he's going to cum. But you don't move, pushing forward and barrelling your way towards his orgasm. You can feel it happen on your tongue, cock twitching hard and he unloads deep into your throat.

You don't taste it so it's easy to swallow, and you swallow hard as you milk him making him pull you off in a desperate plea for mercy.

You laugh as you pull away from him, watching as he stares down at you awestruck and a little afraid. You wipe the corners of your mouth and smile.

"You're so sexy, Nanami-san,"

He groans in shame and embarrassment, still red to the tip of his ears.

"Enough out of you."

[joelmillerisapunk]

Beach Daddy IV. Got Me Feeling Vertigo

Rich bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 11,847

Summary: The weight of your secrets and the impending danger from Todd threaten to tear you apart. Will you find the courage to confess your feelings to Joel, or will you let fear and deceit ruin your chance at love?

Warnings: 18+, this ones just back on its drama - boo Todd 👿 yay Joel 😘, tis fluffy, we meet Marnie (Sarah's mom), more on Blaine. Just Joel being the hard-headed but southern gentleman he is.

Notes: hiiiii! I hope you enjoy! Happy May 💐 Comments and reblogs and thoughts are always appreciated ilysm for reading these mammoth chapters and sticking it out. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider

“Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."

You fumble for the doorknob at your back, and the door swings open behind you, almost causing you to trip backward inside. Joel follows you into the room a few seconds later, leaving Todd out in the hall. You think it's probably for the best because Joel looks like he really might throw Todd over the side of the ship.

Joel locks the door behind him. You make your way to the bed and sit down, trying to catch your breath. You feel safer with Joel here. He comes over to you and places his hands on each side of your face looking into your eyes. Worry swims in his, and you nearly pull his mouth to yours.

“Did he hurt you? You have to tell me if he hurt you."

“I'm fine, really. I'm just a little shaken up, but I’ll be okay."

He continues to hold your face in his hands as if he's inspecting it to reassure himself that you're not hurt. You have to keep your eyes focused on him so they don't drift down to his perfect lips. Joel leans in closer, and you close your eyes, waiting - 

Cool air hits your cheeks, replacing the warmth where Joel's hands had been. Your eyes burst open, and Joel's back is to you as he makes his way to the sofa. Heat burns through your entire body, and you wish Joel  hadn't pulled away. 

“I need you to tell me the truth."

“What do you mean?" You ask, still breathless.

“I saw your face when that piece of cheesecake with the engagement ring was set in front of you. You weren't surprised; you looked almost heartbroken. Then at dinner tonight, Todd said something that made it sound like he’s known you for a lot longer than just this week. Then, I came up here to check on you, and he has you cornered."

“Joel, he was just drunk. I don't think he knew what he was doing," you say, looking down at your feet.

“Is he the reason you wanted to leave?" Joel asks bluntly. You can't  understand his anger. Is it possible that he's jealous of Todd?

“Not him specifically," you say, quickly bending the truth. “A lot of the group makes me feel like I don't belong. I don't come from money like the rest of them, and it's very obvious to me that I don't fit in with them."

In all actuality, you do feel like the odd one out a lot of the time. You imagine it feels similar to following an older sibling and their friends around. No one really wants you to come, but they put up with you so they won't get in trouble. It is, however, still a lie about the reason you wanted to leave.

Joel looks at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “I didn't know you felt that way."

“I don't feel that way when I'm with you. Sometimes it feels like you’re the only one who wants me on this ship." You make your way across the room to sit on the sofa opposite him.

“I do want you here," Joel says softly.

You think back to the maid, Charlotte, talking about how Marnie had run off all of the women that ever got serious with Joel. You realise that he isn’t the playboy Sarah always makes him out to be. It isn't his intention that none of the women he's ever dated have not stayed around for long.

“I came up here to make sure you were feeling alright."

“I’m feeling a lot better," you say, feeling guilty about getting out of dinner with an excuse of being seasick. It felt like the best option, though, since you were apparently a topic of conversation at dinner. You wonder what Todd said about you to Joel but know it's best not to ask, or he’ll start asking questions you don't want to answer.

“Did you get anything to eat?"

“No, I didn't want to bug anyone."

You think back to the few handfuls of popcorn you ate while playing cards. You could definitely use something more substantial. Joel stands and walks to the intercom on the wall of your room.

“Can you please send some dinner up and a whiskey for me?"

—

“Is there anything else I can get you, sir?" Brenna says as she sets down the tray on the coffee table between Joel and you. She turns and winks at you, and you try your best to hide a smile.

“No, that's everything. Thank you, Brenna; I know it's late."

“I was up anyway, sir, and the night chef was in the kitchen making preparations for tomorrow, so it was really no trouble." Brenna turns and walks out the door, clicking it closed behind her. 

“I like that you call all of your staff by name," you say, impressed that he cares so much about his staff despite his wealth.

“One of the few valuable things I learned from my father was to respect the people who work for you. Without them, I wouldn't be able to do the work that I do or enjoy my limited free time. My father always made it a point to call each employee by their name. In that way alone, I followed in his footsteps."

Joel takes the cover off of your plate for you. It's a bowl of chicken pesto pasta and a side of garlic bread. The smell of the garlic hits your nose instantly, and you can feel your stomach urging you to grab the plate.

“Your father sounds like he was a very harsh man?" You ask, hoping you're not overstepping. You grab the bowl of pasta off the tray and take a bite. The cheese melts in your mouth perfectly, complemented by the pesto.

“He was very harsh, and strict. He had high expectations for me, and he made it known when I disappointed him."

“That must have been hard."

“It was, but it made me who I am today. I don't take the wealth, or the work it takes to maintain it, for granted. But I do try to be a kinder man than he was."

You stay quiet and work on the rest of your pasta, slowly savoring each bite. You know Joel will probably leave as soon as you're done, so you take your time.

“I forgot to tell you I got in contact with a law firm I've worked with in the past. They would like to bring you in for an interview for a secretary position."

You nearly drop your fork. “Are you serious?"

Joel smiles at your response. He nods  and takes a swig from his whiskey glass. “I'll get you their information. They're ready to bring you in as soon as you get settled."

“I can't thank you enough, Joel. You don't understand how life-changing this is for me," you say, setting down the bowl of pasta on the table. You wish you could stand up and hug him.

“I'm just glad you decided to stay. You are the only one making this trip bearable," Joel says, meeting your eyes. The look in his eyes makes your heart flutter.

A loud vibration against the leather of the sofa breaks the moment, and Joel pulls out his phone. His face falls as soon as he reads the notification on his home screen. “I’m so sorry but I have something I have to deal with. I'm glad to see that you’re feeling better, darlin. If you need anything, let me know."

You stand. “Thank you for everything, Joel, truly everything."

He smiles and quickly makes his way to the door without looking back and closes the door behind him. The room suddenly feels empty with Joel gone. You slump back onto the leather sofa and grab the garlic bread off the plate, dipping it in the remaining pesto at the bottom of your bowl. 

Your phone screen illuminates the dark corner where your bed sits, so you hesitantly get up to check your notifications. At the top are a few messages in the group text between your friends, and just below that is a friend request from Joel. You smile to yourself and accept it, then open your group chat.

Lin: What amazing thing did you get to do today? I am bored of packing for the move. I need to live vicariously through you.

Aubrey: Lin, keep packing you only have a few more weeks. 

Lin: Don't sound too sad to have us go, lol!

Aubrey: You know I am going to miss you two like crazy, but I know you will panic pack at the last minute and forget half your underwear drawer. I am not shipping your panties to you, Lin!

Lin: You know me too well, Aubs.

You: I love that every time I check my phone, I have messages like these! Nothing exciting today. We have been at sea all day on our way to Sarah's dad's mansion in the Bahamas. I went down to the employee's quarters and played cards and got a lot of dirt on Sarah’s mom.

Lin: Okay, I'm going to need pictures of this Bahama's Mansion and details on her mom!

You: Sarah's mom left her dad for another man because she thought it would help her climb the social ladder. Turned out he wasn't as rich or well off socially as she thought, and when he died, she did a paternity test, and here we are.

You: We are going to her dad's mansion for Sarah and Todd's engagement party…

Lin: It sounds like Sarah is the spitting image of her mother.

Aubrey: Not only did you have to witness their engagement, but now you have to go to their engagement party too?

Lin: I swear, you have the absolute worst luck on the planet.

You: You don't even know the half of my bad luck on this trip.

Lin: What do you mean? What else has happened?

You: Well, I don't really fit in with the rest of the group.

Aubrey: But I thought you said you were making other friends? Joel right?

You: I am.

Lin: So, what do you mean by bad luck?

You: Joel is Sarah's dad.

Aubrey: Why is that a problem? I have a lot of friends in my classes who are like double my age.

You: It's a problem because I'm falling for him. Absolutely head over heels falling for him.

—

Once in the hall, Joel opens the text message that interrupted his conversations with you

Lucille: Do you know someone named Blaine?

That simple sentence makes his stomach drop. He was now contacting family members. Joel makes his way back to the privacy of his office for the second time in the same night. He closes the door behind him before dialing his cousin Lucille's number.

“Joel, I am so glad you called me. I just had the strangest conversation with someone named Blaine. I was just getting out of the bath when I got a call from an unknown number. Now, usually I don't answer the phone if I don't know the number, but I gave my information to this adorable man at the coffee shop earlier today, so I figured it was him."

“Lucille, this is important; I need you to tell me exactly what Blaine said to you." He has to keep Lucille focused on the topic, she's always been a talker, but at this moment, he can't politely listen to all of her stories in their excruciating detail.

“Oh, right, the call from Blaine! He told me I needed to meet his demands or else."

“What were his demands?"

“He wants me to send half a million dollars in a box to an address in New Jersey. I'm sure it's just one of those scam callers that has nothing better to do with their life."

“Lucille, if you thought it was a scam, then why did you ask me if I knew him?"

“Well, that's what I found so strange. He knew all about our family tree and how we are related. I just thought it was a little more information than scammers normally have. However, who knows? With the Internet, I'm sure people can find out all kinds of information about our family. We aren't exactly flying under the radar - Oh! Did you see that latest news article in the paper? Apparently, you are about to agree to an arranged marriage to the Princess of Thailand."

“Lucille, I'm afraid this isn't a scam. But the arranged marriage definitely isn't true. Have you left your house since you got this call?"

“No, why? Joel, you're making me nervous."

“Okay, don't leave your house. I'm sending some of my security team over there now. Do not open the door for anyone else."

“What should I do about Blaine's demands?"

“Just ignore it."

“Joel, who is it we’re dealing with?" Lucille asks. She’s clearly nervous now.

“You don't have to deal with anyone, Lucille, I promise. I will take care of everything. Don't answer any unknown numbers, and do not go anywhere without one of my men with you. I will get this figured out."

“Okay, Joel. Just be careful."

“I will be. Call me if you need anything."

He hangs up the phone and slams his palm against his desk, even though he wants to punch something instead. He allows himself a few seconds of anger before picking up his phone again and calling his head of security.

“Hello?" a burly voice sounds on the other end of the phone call.

“Bruce, I need you to send two men over to my cousin Lucille's home in the West Village. Her address should be listed in her file."

“Of course, sir. Has there been an incident?"

“A man named Blaine Blake. He’s blackmailing Lucille at the moment. I’m not sure what he’s capable of, but he is a threat to the entire family. I need your best men on this."

“Two men are already on their way to your cousin's, sir. Do I need to send a team to you?"

He knew he hired Bruce for a reason. He’s extremely efficient and always one step ahead of everyone else. He’s exactly who he needs to help him take care of Blaine.

“No need quite yet, but I'll keep you posted. Oh, and Bruce?"

“Yes, sir?"

“Keep your ear to the ground, and let me know anything you find out about this Blaine Blake. Any information that you find needs to be kept under wraps."

“On it, sir. Everything will be done with the utmost secrecy."

“Thank you, Bruce. Have a good evening."

Joel hangs up the phone and sets it on his large oak desk. Unconsciously, he's been pacing around his office while on the phone. He slumps himself down into his leather armchair and swivels it around so he can watch the ocean. It's so dark, it's hard to differentiate the water from the sky.

He should have known he would hear from Blaine eventually. He first found out about his existence after his parents' death when he was seventeen. His father's will had very bluntly stated that Blaine was to receive nothing. Joel had no idea that he had a half-brother out there in the world until after his dad was gone and couldn't explain the situation for himself. Joel was left spending the rest of his early adult life piecing the clues together. His parents' constant fighting and lack of affection for each other made complete sense as soon as he knew that his father's infidelity was likely the cause. He ripped apart his father's office, trying to find any clues about his hidden life. The only thing he found was a check register, showing he had paid a woman named Anne Blake - one hundred thousand dollars. He had no illusions about his father, he knew exactly what he'd done. 

His father kept detailed records of every dime he ever spent; the lack of information on the check register told him everything he needed. The hundred thousand dollars was hush money, and the woman, Anne Blake, had to be his father's mistress. He searched for years to find Anne Blake, but her name was so common, it was impossible to narrow down his search enough to find the right woman. He had no other information to go off of, and was left with a million unanswered questions. It wasn't until he found out he was Sarah's father that he had a hope of finding his brother. Sarah had taken a DNA test that linked her to other Miller's who had their DNA in the same database. Joel took the same DNA test and waited for a notification that he had a sibling match in the database. Last year, that notification finally came, but after some digging into his brother Blaine Blake's history, he wished he'd never known about him. More importantly, he wished he didn't know at all. Blaine's criminal record was far from clean, with multiple charges of petty theft and blackmail. It wasn't long after that, that the threats started coming in. At first, it was easy to shake the threats off, and Joel simply ignored all of them. In the last month, Blaine must have gotten desperate because his attempts at blackmail were getting increasingly threatening.

So far, he even avoided telling his security team about the threats, but now he's threatening Joel's family. He knows Bruce will get to the bottom of the problem, but he'll likely find out about all of his family's dirty laundry in the process.

Joel runs his hands up his face and through his hair. Leaning back, he stares at the ceiling. He knows he’ll never be able to sleep after the events of the last few hours, so he turns back around to his desk and opens his laptop. Might as well get some work done if he's going to be up anyway.

A notification greets him as the screen flashes to life. You accepted his friend request. At that, he can't help but smile, just a little. There's something about you that makes it impossible for Joel to get you out of his head. He's immediately distracted by the memory of you riding on the back of the jet ski to find the dolphins. Thinking of that day, he can almost feel your body pressed against his back and how your face lit up when the dolphins swam into the cove. That night when you walked out of the salon in the dress he mentioned would look good on you; you nearly knocked him senseless. You felt beautiful and he could see it on your face.

He realises sitting there alone in his office, he would give anything to make you feel that way all the time. There's no point in denying it any further, he's falling for you. If you were anyone other than Sarah's friend, he'd pursue you without a second thought. But, the last thing he needs is to complicate his relationship with his daughter even more. It doesn't help that his daughter is so clueless as to be cruel to the one person she invites that could actually help her grow into a decent person.

The screen of his phone alerts him to another incoming text message.

Marnie: I need a plane ticket to the Bahamas. It was bad enough that I had to hear about my daughter's engagement over the phone. I refuse to miss her engagement party too. So we will also need to push the party back so I can be there.

A few seconds later, another message follows the first.

Marnie: Also, we need to start discussing the wedding plans. Sarah's wedding needs to be absolutely perfect. We can talk about the details later. Send the flight information as soon as possible.

Joel opens the drawer of his desk and slides his phone inside. He is not in the mood to deal with Marnie and her demands. He knows deep down that Sarah is becoming more and more like her mother each and every day. A part of him is excited about Sarah's wedding for the simple fact that she’ll be another man's problem. He immediately feels bad for thinking that of his own daughter, but it seems she only cares about his money. Thinking about Sarah's upcoming wedding brings a new wave of memories rushing in. Embarrassment floods his veins as he thinks about the conversation he had with his daughter over dinner. She said that you didn't fit the aesthetic of her wedding, so she wouldn't ask you to be a bridesmaid. He couldn't understand that. But if Sarah won't have you at the wedding as a bridesmaid, maybe he'll just bring you as his date.

—

The last thing you want to do is run into Todd, especially after his actions the night before; you think it would be wise to avoid him completely. Book in hand, you head to the secret deck off of the dining room balcony, where you had shared a few quiet moments with Joel. You figure it would be the best place for you to hide out and also possibly run into Joel again. He left in such a rush the night before, you’re curious to find out what happened. You check down the hallway before speed walking to the dining room. As soon as your hand hits the doorknob, Sarah's voice sounds behind you.

"I have been looking for you everywhere!"

You turn around quickly, and you’re relieved to see that Sarah is alone. She’s wearing a one-piece swimming suit in navy blue with the bust line cutting down to her belly button. She has a white sun hat and a pair of Chanel sunglasses to complete her beachwear.

"Sarah," you say with a smile.

"Come with me down to the beach. I am so bored, and I can't stand being on this boat for another second," she says with an overly dramatic sigh.

"I thought we were heading to your dad's place and wouldn't get there until tonight." You turn and look out the dining room windows. You’re surprised you hadn't noticed earlier that you aren't moving.

"Daddy said we had to stop to refuel. He is also giving some of the crew their half-day break so they can go on land and contact family or something stupid like that," Sarah says with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh," you say, slightly irritated at Sarah's insensitivity. "Well, a half-day isn't that bad."

"It is when you have an engagement party to plan. Plus, daddy told me that my mom is flying out for the party. She is going to be waiting at the house while we sit here all day."

The thought of meeting Marnie makes you slightly nervous. Maybe because you’re worried she’ll be able to tell you have feelings for Joel. You can't let Sarah catch you in a daydream about her dad, so you shift the conversation as quickly as possible.

"Where is everyone else?"

"Everyone has a hangover. Todd started a drinking game last night, and everyone had a little too much."

Well, that makes a lot of the previous night make more sense. Todd is never one to handle his alcohol very well, and he’s even worse at games. You’re curious as to just how many drinks made Todd forget himself the way he did last night. He was not waiting long into the engagement to show his true colors.

"How are you not hung over?" you ask, looking her up and down. She doesn't look like she was drinking the night before at all. As always, she looks absolutely flawless.

"The bartenders know to give me water instead of an actual shot. I hate the way I get bags under my eyes when I drink too much. It’ss much better to stay hydrated than look hungover."

"Right. Well, I was just going to go find somewhere quiet to read, but reading on the beach sounds a lot more fun."

"Great! I can wait for you to go get ready," Sarah says, looking at your outfit.

"I am ready, Sarah."

"Oh, you look…cute. Anyway, let's go!"

You follow Sarah out on the dock and quickly realize it will not be a simple morning on the beach.

A few members of staff have set up a large tan beach canopy surrounded by white gauzy curtains. In the center is a pair of chaise lounge chairs made of rattan and topped with matching white cushions. It looks like a photoshoot.

"Do you think you could take a few pictures of me? I haven't posted anything in a few days, and my followers are getting antsy."

The true purpose of Sarah inviting you to spend time with her this morning becomes very obvious. She needs a photographer, not a friend.

"Sure, I can take a few. I really want to read this book, though, so if we could be fast…"

"Oh, that is an awesome idea!"

Sarah grabs the book out of your hand and flips it from the front cover to the back. You must look confused because she quickly explains.

"We could take a few shots of me reading on the beach. I haven't done that before. Is this one of those books that will make me look smart?"

"Yeah, I guess we could. It's just a romance novel, I don't know if your followers will think it makes you smart, but it might make you a little more relatable to some people."

"Smart people read. You, of all people, should know that. Maybe I’ll stop getting all those mean comments about being stupid. I can caption it 'steamy reading on the beach.'" 

Sarah takes her place on the lounge in a very photogenic pose that makes her look graceful while still artfully showing off her cleavage. She opens the book and drapes it over herself, careful not to block her best assets. After a few pictures, she will check your work and find the smallest thing she doesn't like and will make you take more.

"Make sure you get the lighting just right and hold the camera up higher for a better angle. Oh, and make sure to get a good view of the ring. I'm hoping someone will notice it, and then my comment section will blow up."

"Don't you want to wait until the actual announcement?" you ask.

"Oh, no! I am going to pretend like it is a mistake that I posted a picture with the ring on; that way, it will attract more attention."

"It's always about the attention with you," you say under your breath.

"What was that?"

"Tilt your head up higher, so you don't have a double chin."

Sarah gasps and asks to see the pictures you had taken, so she can search for the nonexistent double chin. You feel bad as soon as you say it, you don't need to stoop to her level. After finding out so much about Sarah's past, you understand why she can be so hard to be around at times. If you had found out your father wasn't really your father after he passed away, you would have been devastated too.

"I think it was just a shadow, Sarah you don't have a double chin in any of these pictures. I don't think it is even possible for you to have a double chin," you say, trying to make up for your moment of weakness.

"Of course, you're right," Sarah says as she hands her phone back to you. Apparently, you aren't done taking pictures.

"Maybe we could get a few shots of me in the sand. Those always get a ton of likes."

Sarah begins to position herself on her stomach in the sand with the book open in front of her. She bends her knees, so her legs are in the air, and she bites the end of her sunglasses while she pretends to read. The pictures look like they belong on the cover of a magazine. Sarah looks so natural, even though she's strategically posing herself.

“Sarah, do you ever get tired of this?"

“Of taking pictures? No, not really."

“Not just of the pictures, but of constantly worrying about what others are thinking of you."

“That is why I take so many pictures; if you put your best picture out there, the only ones who comment mean things are the people who are jealous."

“It just seems like so much work to paint yourself as perfect all the time. I guess that's why I stopped using social media so long ago for the most part."

“For once, things actually are perfect. I have the perfect fiance, and soon I'll have the perfect wedding too. If you ever want to get back onto social media, I could help you.”

 "I'm good for now, but thanks," you say, resuming taking pictures. You realize that Sarah likely doesn't know about your past relationship with Todd because you never posted anything about it on social media. If you don't tell her, she likely wouldn't ever know, and you don't want to be the one to break that news to her. So you keep your mouth shut and keep taking every picture Sarah asks for.

"I think I should have something I can work with from these. Thanks, for helping me out. It was so much fun to spend some time with you," Sarah says, making her way back to the ship without looking back.

It isn't exactly your idea of fun to take pictures all afternoon, but you are finally alone, and you can enjoy your book. You take Sarah's chaise lounge under the shade of the canopy. Even with the breeze gently fluttering the sheer curtains hanging off the canopy, you are still dripping sweat. You had to stand directly in the sun to get all of the shots until your wet tank top clung to your body.

You check the beach to make sure it’s empty before slipping your shirt off and setting it next to you on the empty lounge chair. You feel so much cooler as the breeze snakes through the gaps of your lacy bralette. You open your book and are so thankful for the silence. You get sucked into the story on the pages, so much so that you don’t hear the voices approaching until they are only a few feet from you.

"Can you call and make sure the interest rate we discussed earlier is set in stone?"

"Of course, sir."

You don't have time to slip back into your shirt, so you press the open book to your chest, taking advantage of the little coverage it offers you. You look up to find Joel and Reggie staring at you. Reggie quickly averts his eyes. Joel stares openly at your body, and when his eyes meet yours, you know he wants you as much as you want him.

Reggie apologizes, "We didn't realize you were out here. We will give you some privacy." He keeps his head down and shuffles through the sand back to the dock.

"We aren't leaving for a few more hours." Joel holds your gaze as tightly as you’re holding the open book to your chest. "Take your time and enjoy yourself. I'll make sure no one comes down and bothers you if you'd like to resume reading," Joel offers. He winks at you and then follows Reggie back to the dock.

You watch Joel as he walks away, his neatly pressed linen button-up fluttering gently in the breeze. Once he and Reggie are at a safe distance, you grab your shirt off of the lounge chair next to you and slip it over your head. You let yourself fall backward on the plush cushions and close your eyes, imagining Joel undressing you the way he had done with his eyes when he realized you were wearing nothing but your bralette.

A wave of heat rushes through you at the thought until you remember where you are. You sit up so quickly that you make your head spin. After waiting a few seconds to regain your balance, you place your book under your arm, and with your head down, you race back to your room. As soon as your door clicks closed behind you, you head for the shower, throwing your clothes to the floor on your way there. You stand for a long time under the cool water. Eventually, you feel the embarrassment wash down the drain. It takes even longer for the heat Joel made you feel to wash away.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you make your way out of the bathroom. You would love to sit on the balcony and let the breeze help extinguish what you’re feeling, but you figure you've already taken too much risk for one day. Instinctively, you grab your phone off of the bed to text your friends an update.

You: If I could die of embarrassment, you two would be making funeral arrangements as we speak.

Lin: Oooo, is there some daddy drama we need to know about?

You: Unfortunately, yes. I was just lying on the beach in my bralette, and I had no idea Joel was walking by until it was too late.

Aubrey: I'm sure he didn't mind. If it is that one you bought on our last shopping trip, I know he didn't mind!

Lin: So what did you do? Let him stand there in awe?

You: So not funny, you two! I covered myself with the book I was reading… but we definitely shared a moment.

Lin: Sounds steamier than those romance novels you read!

You: I think I am in way over my head. What do I do? We are staying at his house in the Bahamas for the next few days. We should get there later tonight.

Lin: Let it happen!

Aubrey: Just see where it goes, but if you want to leave, I will find you a plane out of there.

You: It might not be a bad idea to get that flight information. Would you mind Aubrey?

Aubrey: Of course, I will send you the details; that way, you have them if you need them.

You: Thank you. I will keep you both updated!

You close your phone and sigh. You don't want to leave, but it might be for the best, so you don't do something stupid. The thought of leaving this vacation is a weighted decision. If you don't see Todd again for the rest of your life, you'll be overjoyed. However, the thought of possibly never seeing Joel again, of never finding out if you could be more, is painful to think about. Your head is spinning over what the best decision is. So, instead of making any big decisions, you get yourself dressed, fully expecting another quiet day at sea. Exhausted from the heat of the morning and Sarah's impromptu photo shoot, you throw yourself on the bed and close your eyes for what feels like a few minutes.

A light knocking on your door wakes you up, and your eyes take a moment to adjust to the lighting in the room. A quick look out your balcony window, and you know you've slept way longer than you had intended. The golden glow of sunset is streaming through the windows, dusting everything in a light pink hue.

"Brenna! Hey, what's going on?" you ask as you open the door, happy to see a familiar face.

"I was sent up to help you with your luggage. We should be arriving at the Miller's vacation home in about an hour," Brenna explains.

"Oh, wow. I slept a lot longer than I meant to," you say and hold the door open for Brenna to enter your room. You try to rub the sleep from your eyes as she walks into your room.

"No worries, the only thing you missed was the 'Richies' showing off in the pool all day," Brenna reports.

"Then it sounds like I made the right decision. How were they showing off?" you ask.

"Oh, you know the usual 'I'm so annoyed my parents bought me the wrong color convertible,' 'I can't believe he really thought that I drank anything but sparkling water,' 'the sheets in my room are so uncomfortable–the ones on my dad's yacht are Egyptian cotton.'"

You laugh and shake your head. Brenna does a great impression of the things you have heard from different members of the group all week. You head to the closet, Brenna right behind you. "I don't think it will actually take me an hour to get everything packed up. Most of my stuff can just be thrown back in my suitcase, and my new clothes are all still in the garment bags," you say.

"It must be my lucky day. I was in that girl Megan's room earlier, and it looked like she tried on an entire store's worth of clothes and threw them on the floor when they weren't what she was looking for. I feel horrible for whoever got assigned to her room," Brenna comments.

"I would pity anyone who had to work for Megan. I avoid her at all costs. When she glares at you, it feels like you're going to start burning right on the spot," you say.

"I know, right? She's the worst of all of Sarah's friends, but her dad owns some luxury watch company, so she has been a regular on the guest lists for a long time," Brenna explains.

"Brenna, what is the vacation house like?" you ask.

"It's more than someone like you or me could ever believe one person could afford," Brenna replies.

—

As the yacht pulls up to the private dock of the Miller's Bahama vacation home, the size of the mansion is on full display. The white colonial-style mansion is three stories tall, with cantilever balconies off of the second floor. An illuminated infinity pool rests at the top of the white sanded private beach. A small runway off to the side of the property ends at a white stone gazebo that juts out into the ocean. Full palm trees edge the beach, making it feel secluded from the rest of the island. Music plays from the large deck, and shadows of people dot the beach and poolside.

Sarah rushes down to the dock, where a group of very rich women wait for you. Sarah squeals and thrusts her hand forward to show off her engagement ring. This is followed by echoed squeals from the group. You hesitate as your feet hit the dock, not wanting to get in the middle of the model-like women.

"Oh, sweetie, the maid's entrance is around to the side," one of the women says.

You stop in your tracks, not knowing how to respond to the assumption. You feel a warm palm on your lower back push you gently forward past the woman. Joel.

He leans down close to your ear and whispers, "Don't let them intimidate you. You're twice the woman any of them could ever be." His breath tickles your neck, and goosebumps prickle the skin down your arms. You look up at him and give him a weak smile. "Let me show you where you’ll be staying," he says quietly as he lets the corner of his mouth brush your earlobe.

"Thank you," you nearly moan.

Joel keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk to the mansion. He leads you through the back doors and into a living room with a giant chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. Two fish tanks containing every color of tropical fish rest on either side of the large staircase you take to the second floor.

"This is one of my favorite rooms in the entire house," Joel says. He leads you into an elegant bedroom with white double doors exiting onto one of the balconies you had seen from the yacht. Palm fronds are a recurring theme in the decorations throughout the room in a pale green color.

"It's so beautiful; I wouldn't dare touch anything," you say.

"Nonsense. Make yourself comfortable. It's one of three master bedrooms, so you have your own ensuite just through that door there," Joel says, gesturing to an open door on the other side of the room.

"I don't know if I belong in one of the master suites. I would really be okay with one of the smaller rooms," you say.

"This is where you belong. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”

— 

Waking up in the enormous master suite, you find yourself bathed in the soft glow of morning coming through the windows. The tranquillity is broken by screams of irritation from the floor below. 

Wrapping the robe Joel had given you around yourself, you open the door to your room and hurry down the stairs to see what's going on. "You have got to be kidding me! This is completely unacceptable!" A woman with hair matching Sarah's is yelling at Max, the staff member you'd played cards with on the yacht.

"Ma'am, I don't know what to tell you. Mr. Miller has already assigned the rooms; I cannot go against his direct orders. There is already another guest staying in that room, and I am sure Mr. Miller would not approve of me kicking them out of the room," Max replies, clearly exasperated.

"We will see about that. You will be lucky if you still have a job by the time I'm through with you," the woman retorts and spots you on the stairs. Her face is devoid of emotion, probably from the excessive and very obvious botox treatments. "Come to enjoy the show, did we?" she asks, but you can't tell if she's trying to glare at you or not. You turn around, deciding it's best not to get involved. 

A few hours later, you dare to leave your room again but are met with more yelling coming from the lower floor. Your empty stomach protests the idea of going back through there, so you hope you can make it to the kitchen without anyone seeing you.

"So you are the one that took my room," Marnie says immediately, and you know it's her.

You turn to find not only Marnie but Sarah, Todd, and Megan too. Megan has a small smirk on her mouth that she tries and fails to hide.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, pretending you have no idea what she means.

"I just found out that one of the master bedrooms went to you. I am stuck on the bottom floor in one of the guest rooms like some commoner," Marnie complains.

"I don't see the problem. I was told which room had been assigned to me. I didn't ask for it."

"Oh, you must be the poor one. It makes sense why you can't understand something so simple," Marnie says with a pointed look at your simple clothes.

Megan laughs at Marnie's comment, and Sarah playfully slaps her arm to get her to stop. You can't bring yourself to look at Todd's face, but you figure he's getting a laugh out of this interaction as well.

"Do you know who I am?" Marnie asks.

You internally cringe. You've always hated customers who tried the 'do you know who I am' card at the bar. "I'm guessing that you’re Sarah's mother," you say as calmly as you can.

"Exactly. So you need to pack up your things and get out of my room."

"I'm not moving my stuff. I was assigned that room, and I'm going to stay in it."

Marnie starts stammering an explanation, but Joel walks into the room without her noticing. Relief floods your entire body, knowing Joel is here. He has an angry burning look in his eyes that makes Marnie nervous.

"This whole thing was just a misunderstanding. I just figured, with our history, I would have one of the bigger rooms. I just remembered, though, that I love the view of the ocean from the room I'm in, that’s  probably why you picked it for me," Marnie explains.

Joel doesn't say anything in response, and Marnie tries her best to make an escape. Sarah and Todd follow Marnie out of the kitchen, and you feel heat on your lower back. Joel has placed his hand there and leans close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly.

You nod and step away from him, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter.

—

The rest of the morning is spent carefully avoiding Marnie, but it seems like everywhere you go, Todd shows up a few minutes later. He's always talking very loudly about what needs to be done before the engagement party. Not wanting to talk to him, you give up and go back to your room. You go out to the balcony and lean over the railing to watch the ocean. A few men are surfing, and you can make out Joel sitting on his surfboard bobbing in the water.

"Baby cakes?"

You look over to see Todd leaning over the railing of the adjacent balcony, straining to see you on yours. You shake your head at him.

"Please, I just need to talk to you."

"You have nothing to say that I would be interested in hearing," you say and go back into your room, shutting the door behind you a little more forcefully than you intended. Your heart is pounding, and you know you need to get control of your anger, but you can't do that knowing Todd is in the next room over. So you grab your book and a beach towel out of the bathroom before heading down to the beach. You walk through the living area of the mansion and nearly run into two giant ice sculptures as they are being brought through to the kitchen.

"Oh, careful!" Sarah says, rushing over to inspect the ice sculpture. You quickly step back to avoid a life-size rendition of Sarah and Todd embracing.

"Oh wow…" is the only thing you can say, looking at the ice sculpture.

"I know, right? It is absolutely perfect," Sarah beams.

"It sure is something."

"Mom commissioned it as soon as she found out about the engagement party."

"Well, I want the best for my little girl," Marnie's voice flows down the stairs as she makes her way toward you with Todd on her arm.

"It really is the perfect embodiment of us both," Todd says with a smile in your direction.

"It matches your heart, Todd. Ice cold," you mutter under your breath.

You make a hasty exit out the back door and nearly run towards the beach, needing to get away from both versions of Todd.

You spread your towel out in the sand and lounge on the ground, hoping to continue the book you had been trying to read the day before. Sarah's demanding voice carries all the way down to the private beach.

You need a better distraction. You throw your head back and look up at the bright blue sky. You don't think you can make it through this engagement party. Your phone vibrates with a text message from Aubrey, containing flight information for a flight leaving the next day. It would cost the rest of your savings, but maybe it would be for the best if you left.

"Every time I've seen you lately, you've had that book with you, but you never seem to be reading it."

You sit up to find Joel standing in front of you, shirtless, soaking wet, and holding a surfboard. Beads of water are sliding down his naked torso, and you can't help but watch them caress his skin, slowly sneaking lower. You look back up at Joel's teasing smile.

"Do you need a towel? You're dripping on me," you say with a playful smile.

"Would you share yours? Unless you'd like to join me for one more wave."

"I have never been surfing," you admit.

"I would be happy to teach you, as long as you don't send us both flying into the water again," Joel says with a wink and a charming smile.

“I can't make any promises about that," you say with a laugh.

“Then it might be best for you to stay on dry land. The engagement party is supposed to start in a few hours."

You sigh quietly and look down at your toes; you buried them under the sand. You pull them out and brush off the sand.

“Well then, I'm going to head back up to shower and get ready." Joel offers you his hand and helps you off the ground.

“I'll see you there." You hand Joel the towel you had been sitting on.

“In the shower?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'll see you at the party Joel," you reply with a seductive glance over your shoulder as you walk back toward the mansion, leaving him behind you. You can feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

—

The soft fabric of your chiffon cocktail dress swishes against your thighs as you make your way downstairs. The music is already thumping through the house from the back patio, making the windows rattle slightly. The infinity pool is illuminated, giving the entire party a slight glow. The first place you head is to the bartender, knowing it's going to take a lot to get through this night and needing all the help you can get.

"Would you like a Sarah Lemon Drop or a Todd Tequila Shot?"

"Are these the only two things on the menu?" you ask. You shouldn't be surprised that they have signature drinks named after themselves.

The bartender gives you a sympathetic smile, "Or we have the Marry Me Margarita."

This is going to be a very long night.

"A margarita then…"

You walk away with your margarita in hand and join a small group of people surrounding the life-size ice sculpture of Sarah and Todd. A woman turns to you and asks, "So how do you know the couple?"

"Oh, I went to school with Sarah at NYU." You figure it's best to leave out how you know Todd.

"I didn't realize that Sarah went to college. She never mentioned it at our photo shoot in Greece last year. That's how we met," she says with an air of superiority.

"What did you study at NYU?" a man says, entering the conversation.

"Oh, I got my Bachelor's in history and I just graduated with my Master's in political science. I'm going to Harvard for Law school in the fall."

"That sounds absolutely terrible. I went for the first week of college and dropped out. They wanted me to show up for classes before, like ten in the morning," the woman says.

"Yeah, some of the classes can be pretty early," you say, not knowing how to respond.

"So, are your parents making you go to law school or something? Does your dad own a law firm? I have a friend whose dad is making him become a lawyer so he can take over the law firm someday," the man asks you.

"No, I'm not being forced, I just have always wanted to be a lawyer. No one in my family owns a law firm, although I wish they did. That would make finding a job after I graduate a lot easier," you answer with a nervous laugh.

The two give you a strange look as though they had never met someone who willingly went to college to pursue a career simply because it was what they wanted.

"So you're, like, smart," the woman says in a patronizing tone. They turn to each other and actually laugh at you while you’re still standing next to them. 

"Don't tell me you are putting yourself through school too. Let me guess, you're a waitress or something," the man says with a mean smile.

"I'm a bartender," you say quietly.

This answer sends them both over the edge with giggles. They move forward, effectively cutting you out of the group with their bodies. You realize that you have nothing in common with these people and turn to leave. 

Tears sting the corners of your eyes, and you need to get away from the thumping beat of the DJ's speakers. You refuse to cry in front of these people. You walk down the runway to the gazebo that juts out into the ocean, so the waves crash against all sides, drowning out the music and laughter from the party. You brace yourself on the backrest of an iron bench, wiping away an escaping tear from your face. You know you don't belong here, and you can't stand staying another day. You pull your phone out of the clutch you're carrying and send a quick text to Aubrey and Lin.

You: I just got laughed at for wanting to become a lawyer. I need to get away from these people.

Aubrey: Do you want me to book you that flight?

You: Yes, I'm ready to come home.

Aubrey: Bad news. The flight tomorrow is booked.

You: When is the next flight out of here?

Aubrey: In two days.

You: Book it. I will just find a way to hide out for one more day.

Lin: You can get through this! I will be waiting at the airport to pick you up.

You: I can't thank you two enough. What would I do without you? I miss you both, and I can't wait to see you.

Aubrey: Your flight has been changed. We will see you in two days. Hang in there! We love you!

Lin: What Aubrey said. Just two more days!

You: Love you girls too!

A hand grips the top of yours on the bench and gives it a small squeeze.

"I have been trying to talk to you all day. Why have you been avoiding me?"

You look down and are disappointed that it's not Joel's tanned hand on top of yours. You rip your hand out from under Todd's and give him an icy glare. "What do you need?"

"I need to talk to you in private."

"This is private enough," you say, looking back at the party. You know someone would hear you if you screamed loud enough.

"Just come back to my room with me." Todd leans in close and whispers, "I miss you."

"You can talk to me here or not at all," you say and take a large step back and away from him.

"You look amazing, baby cakes. I have never seen you wear a dress like that. It looks good on you and would look even better off," he says with a sleazy smile.

"Do not call me that! Don't think about me like that! Does your fiance know where you are?" you hiss.

"Of course, she doesn't, and she doesn't have to."

"Does she know anything, Todd? Does she know about our past? Does she know that you dated me for years and how you were still dating me when you two met?" Your breaths are coming in ragged gasps now. You have never been so angry at Todd before. You can't stand the fact that he has not only thrown you over for someone else after you had wasted years of your life on him, but now he has the nerve to try and win you back at his engagement party.

"Of course, she knows," he says quickly while looking away.

"You are such a liar!" Your voice echoes against the pillars of the gazebo. Angry tears burn your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

"Are you sure I'm the liar and not Sarah? What if she just invited you here to make you watch her get engaged to your ex? It sounds like just the kind of game that she and her rich friends would find so entertaining. They have been laughing at you behind your back this entire trip."

"You've always been the liar, Todd. I wish I had seen that from the very beginning. You obviously don't know Sarah. There is no way she would be that cruel. I never mentioned you by name to her when we were dating because she never seemed to care about my personal life. And if they've been laughing at me this entire time, why didn't you tell me sooner? You're just lying to save yourself." You hope the words you say are true. Spending this much time with Sarah is a rare occurrence, and she seems different. However, you can't fathom that she would intentionally cause you pain.

"We have the chance to get back at her for humiliating you," Todd whispers.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, puzzled by the sudden change in topic.

"Take me back. She never has to know that we made up. Everything could go back to how it was."

"Back to how it was? Really, Todd? How do you think that would ever work? You expect me to be fine with the fact that you are marrying Sarah? Do you really think Sarah would be okay with her husband having a girlfriend on the side?" you ask, taken aback by his request.

"I would still marry Sarah, and we would have more money than we would even know what to do with. As soon as my dad makes me a partner, I will have to go on business trips all the time, and you could come with me. Sarah will never know that we are back together."

"You're ridiculous, Todd. It's all about the money, isn't it? You want everything that you can't have, and you are only marrying Sarah for her money."

"Well, she's not bad to look at either," Todd says as if you are the one being unreasonable.

"I can't believe I ever loved you. You are a terrible person. Just leave me alone, Todd," you say, turning away from him and crossing your arms. You are drained from your conversation and realize that there is no way to make him see how wrong he is being.

"Take me back, please," Todd says, reaching out and grabbing your arm.

"Don't touch me," you say, pulling away from him.

Someone clears their throat at the entrance of the gazebo. Todd drops his arm and takes a step back. "Todd, Sarah is looking for you. I think it would be best if you went and found her."

Todd doesn't respond and quickly leaves. You watch as he stops in front of Joel, waiting for him to move so that he can leave. Joel remains where he is standing, so Todd has to awkwardly squeeze past him. If you weren't so angry and trying to hold back the tears still hot in your eyes, you would have laughed.

You let out a frustrated sigh that turns into a small sob. Joel is by your side in seconds. "Are you okay?" Joel asks, putting a hand on each of your arms and rubbing them comfortingly.

"I'm fine," you lie, trying to hide the few tears that have fallen down your face.

"You're shaking. You are not okay. Come with me," Joel says, holding out his hand, and you take it.

"I don't want to go back to the party," you say.

"We don't have to go back to the party.” 

"Then where are we going?" you ask, your voice cracking.

"To my room.”

Joel holds your hand as he leads you through a side door of the mansion, avoiding the large crowd of the engagement party. When the door closes behind you, the music and noise of the group become muffled. All you can hear is the low rumble of the bass as it vibrates through the walls.

Joel and you walk in silence, and he never lets go of your hand as he leads you back to his room. Joel's room is decorated in soft grays and silvers. The massive bed stands alone in the center of the room with a crystal chandelier hanging over the center.

Your feet are sore, so you slip your heels off and set them by the double door entrance of the room. Joel clicks the lock on the door, walks across the room, and sits down in an armchair on the other side of the room. You follow, your bare feet cold on the tile floors.

The room's soft coldness makes you feel like you're surrounded by a cloud, comfortable and warm but still in a storm. You nearly sink into the plush armchair that matches Joel's. You would love to be enveloped by the chair and not have the conversation you know is coming. Unfortunately, the truth will likely bring on a storm of its own.

"I need to know the truth."

"I know you do," you say. You let the silence fall between you, not knowing how to start. So you wait for Joel to ask a question first.

"You've known Todd for longer than just this week, haven't you?"

"I met him at NYU in one of my general classes," you admit.

"So you've known him for years?"

"Almost four years," you say barely above a whisper. "We dated for three."

You hear Joel take a deep breath at your confession.

"Why didn't you tell me or Sarah?"

"Honestly, I didn't know what to do. When I got here, I had no idea that Todd would be on board too. Sarah introduced me to him as her new boyfriend, and he acted as though we had never met before.The situation was so uncomfortable. I was still in shock and so hurt." 

"So you just decided to say nothing instead?" his eyebrows cinch together. All you can manage is a nod as the tears blur the edges of your vision. "You said you were hurt seeing him again. How long ago was this break up?"

"He officially broke up with me the day before I walked to receive my Master's degree. We had been fighting for weeks before that, though, when I found out he had been cheating on me for months."

"Shit. With my daughter?"

"Yes…they met at my birthday party."

"Did she know?"

"I honestly don't think she knew. Or at least if she did, she didn't know I was the girlfriend."

"I'm so sorry. But how did you expect to spend an entire vacation keeping this all a secret?"

"By the time I came to my senses, the yacht had already departed. I figured I would avoid Todd, and at the end of this vacation, I would go back to my normal life. I would never see him again after I moved, and I honestly didn't think that Sarah and Todd would last. Sarah never dates anyone for longer than a few months. I never imagined that Sarah would get engaged to him."

"Why has he been following you around?" Joel says sternly.

"I don't know why he can't just let our relationship go…" you say.

You hear Joel sigh, and when he speaks again, his tone is softer. "What did he have to say to you tonight in the gazebo? You looked like he had you cornered."

"He was lying to me...." you attempt to avoid his question, not wanting to go into the awful details of your conversation with Todd.

"About what?" Joel asks, he was clearly going to keep pressing until you told him everything.

"He told me Sarah knew and that she invited me on purpose as some kind of joke for her and all her rich friends."

"I know my daughter can be thoughtless at times, but I don't believe she would purposely be so cruel," he says, rubbing his hands on his face.

"I don't believe him," you assure Joel, seeing the worried look on his face.

"Why would he outright lie like that?"

It takes you a few minutes to respond, trying to find the best way to word your answer. You sigh and look down at your feet. "He was trying to convince me to sleep with him again… to get back at Sarah." 

Anger heats Joel's gaze as his eyes bore into yours. "Do you want him again?"

"What are you talking about? No! Of course, not. I don't want him in any way ever again. He completely betrayed me," you say, completely shocked by his question. You'd figured his anger would be towards Todd, not you. Joel's eyes remain dark, and he doesn't respond. Instead, he gets up from his chair and starts pacing the room. "Aren't you worried that this is the man that your daughter has picked to marry?" you ask, exasperated that he is questioning you about wanting to sleep with your ex. As if you are so weak that you can't possibly say no to a man who has utterly betrayed your trust.

"If I go and tell Sarah what's going on and try to convince her to end the engagement, then he would be free to come back to you. Is that what you want?" Joel asks through clenched teeth.

Joel's words sting.

"Why are you twisting everything I say?"

"How can I trust anything you say after you've lied to everyone this entire time?"

The tears truly start falling then. You quickly stand from your chair and make your way to the door. Before you even reach your shoes next to the door, Joel grabs your wrist, making you pause.

"Stop. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," he says softly as he runs his thumb in circles on your wrist. Normally, that would have made your heart flutter, but at that moment, the only thing you want is to be alone on a flight headed for home.

"I don't need this from you." You use the back of your free hand to wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I just hate imagining you with him," he says quietly.

You let the unsaid meaning of his words float between you. Neither of you acknowledges the implications of his words.

"I just have to know. Do you love him?"

"Will you believe what I tell you?" you ask, finally turning around to look at him again. 

He lets your wrist fall from his fingers. "Yes. I promise," he says with a note of fear in his eyes. Is he truly afraid that you are still in love with a man who treated you so poorly? He reaches up to your face and wipes away another stray tear.

"No. I do not love him," you say pointedly, your voice steady.

"Did you love him?" Joel asked softly.

"I was with him for three years, Joel," you say with a sigh

"That's not what I asked. Did you love him?" he asks again, more forcefully.

"I did love him, but after everything that's happened, how could I still love him? I was wrong about so many things in our relationship," you respond.

"What if you change your mind?" Joel resumes pacing the room.

"I won't. I don't take betrayal lightly," you say firmly.

"I just wish you would have said something from the very beginning."

Anger surges through you. Anger because Joel doesn't seem to understand that everything between you and Todd is over. You don't want anything to do with Todd because the only person you want is Joel. You only want Joel. "You don't get it though, do you?" you say, stepping up to him, blocking his path.

"What am I not getting? Tell me why you lied to me for so long. I would have understood."

"Would you really have understood? Don't you get it? If I had told the truth from the very beginning, I would have been on the first flight home. I would have left as soon as we made the first port," you say, raising your voice.

Joel stares at you, still not understanding. You take another step closer to him, so close that your bodies almost touch. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down before continuing.

"If I had told the truth, I would have never gotten to know you!"

Joel looks at you intensely. He knows you're right.

"I wanted to tell you first thing, but I was just scared. I don't fit in here, remember? The last thing I needed was to make Sarah mad. And who even knows if Todd would've owned up to it? He could've pretended I was lying to cover for himself," you explain, turning away from him.

He gently grabs your arm, making you face him. He looks down at your hand and then interlaces his fingers with yours.

"So, you're glad we've gotten to know each other then?" he asks with a sly smile.

You can't help but smile back. "Of course, I am. Isn't it obvious? I spend most of my time with you."

He nods. "That's true." He lets go of your hand, but your fingertips still touch.

"Todd wanted you to have sex with him to make Sarah mad? He seems to be pretty hung up on you,” Joel says, looking at you.

You raise your eyebrows slightly at that. "Are you trying to ask me about our sex life?"

Joel looks at you. "Honestly, I'm just jealous he knows what sex with you is like."

Your cheeks grow warm, and your heartbeat quickens.

"Why would you be jealous of that? I'm sure you've been with plenty of women," you say.

"Yes, I've been with women, but none as beautiful as you–inside and out," Joel replies, looking into your eyes.

You stare at each other, your fingertips brushing against each other. He moves closer to you and lifts your chin up. You gaze up at him, and he brushes a strand of hair out of your face with a smile and then ever so slowly, he leans down and kisses you.

Taglist:

@lizzie-cakes @ashhlsstuff @puduvallee

[grandlinedreams]

|| I regret nothing

[Heads up!: absolute filth, dom/sub dynamics, color system, finger-sucking, spitting, law gets MEAN and i'm sorry, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, reader is not explicitly gendered but there is usage of termed genitals (clit), piv, unprotected sex (make informed decisions kids!)]

"What about you and Law, though?"

To be fair, Law doesn't mean to overhear your conversation over a transponder snail. It's part of your monthly gossip sessions with Nami and Robin, having remained close friends with the pair despite Law's insistence that now that the alliance is over, you should be enemies.

At the mention of his name, however, curiosity halts him in his tracks as he creeps as close as he can to the door without you noticing. 

"What do you mean?" On your end, Nami's question makes you frown as you eye what's left of your drink. 

"Well, you know," Nami says, and you imagine she's making a gesture with her hand to try and help further communicate her point. "Can't help but wonder what that's like with him. He's not like…" She trails off. "Rough, is he? You aren't limping or anything, right?" 

Your cheeks warm at both the mention of your sex life and how cavalier Nami is about asking, as well as the thought of it. Though the two of you are intimate, you can't really say Law has ever been rough with you. Firm yes, but never rough or demanding, and certainly not in a way that's left you limping.

It surprises you how much you like the idea of it though, and your cheeks darken as you study the sheets beneath you. "No, never like that. He'd never hurt me."

"Well duh," Nami sighs, exasperated. "I'm not saying the guy should put you in a cast or anything, justㅡ" Here you imagine she's shrugging, "Be a little more assertive with you, I guess."

Assertive. The idea of it sends a shiver down your spine as you sit up, setting your drink aside. "Bringing it up to him would be the issue," you lament, and Nami makes a noise of sympathy. 

"You'll figure it out somehow." 

The conversation drifts away from that and by the time you hang up, it's all but been pushed to the back of your mind.

For you, at least.

ㅡ 

It lingers with Law the rest of the day. 

Thoughts circle like a shark that's scented blood, refusing to leave even as he throws himself into his work. Do you want him to be rough with you?

He's not ever heard you complain to him and if he's honest with himself, there's some pride to be had in how easily he gets you to fall apart for him. But if you want him to be rougher ㅡ 

"Law?" The snap of fingers in his face makes him jolt, looking up to find you watching him in concern. "Are you okay? You were spacing out."

"I'm fine," he says, debating for a moment before he sighs. "Actually, I have something I want to discuss with you."

Your head tilts. "Is it work related or personal?"

"Personal." He debates, wondering how he should go about this ㅡ and then decides to just push forward with his usual blunt attitude. "I heard your conversation earlier." 

Your confusion increases. "With who?"

"Nami." He watches you sort through things mentally, then watches color begin to creep into your cheeks. 

"So you heard about…" You trail off, and the color in your cheeks darkens as your pulse picks up. Though you're certain Law would never eavesdrop on purpose without a reason, that doesn't negate the fact that he'd heard you talking to Nami.

About wanting him to be rougher with you in bed. 

"Oh my god," you groan, burying your face into your hands. Embarrassed does not begin to cover how you feel at the moment, and you peer at him from between your fingers. "Just forget what you heardㅡ"

"No." Law's voice is firm. It startles you, makes you lower your hands from your face to look at him. "You want me to be rougher with you, is that it?"

There's an edge to his tone now, one that ignites an answering stir of warmth in your veins as he locks eyes with you. 

"Words, [Name]."

You swallow hard. "Yes," you answer, trying not to let your voice drop into a mumbled whisper. "I want you to be rougher with me." 

God. You wish that the ground would open up and swallow you whole, barely catching the sound of approaching footsteps before there are fingers at your chin, guiding your head back up to look at Law.

There's quiet heat simmering in his eyes already, the curve of his mouth a sinful promise. "Careful what you wish for, [Name]."

ㅡ 

Law's mouth is hot against your core and you whine at the dig of his tongue against your clit, swollen nub pulsing against it. Sweat beads at your temple, rolling down as you buck your hips and work towards your orgasm.

You want to dig your hands into his hair, yank him flush against you and make him stay put until you cum ㅡ but you don't. Instead, you moan as he laps at the abundant slick, breathing shallow.

Close, you're so close ㅡ and just as you think he's going to let you topple over that precipice, he pulls away. You offer a broken sob as you're forced to walk that razor edge of denied pleasure, lament the pleasurable pulse as it begins to ebb.

This is either the fourth or fifth time he's denied you, and despite the fact you know you haven't cum, you know you've soaked the bed sheets beneath you. 

"Color?" The question is spoken against your hip, the bite of teeth in your skin as he waits for your answer. Even for the writhing, desperate mess he's made you, Law makes sure you know where he stands.

"Green," you gasp, groaning when he moves over you, replacing the drag of his tongue against your core with the press of his thigh. "Green, let me cum please, pleaseㅡ"

Law swats at your thigh. "Stop whining, or I won't give you anything." 

You choke back a whine, reflexive tears in your eyes that do nothing to sway Law for the way he ignores it in favor of pressing his fingers to your bottom lip.

"Open," he prompts, ignoring your look of confusion as you part your lips. Two digits slide in, pressing against your tongue. "Suck."

It takes you a minute to process the command, the unwavering gaze that he meets you with. You close your mouth around his fingers, and he smirks.

"So you can listen. What a surprise."

The slick slide of your tongue against his fingers makes Law's eyes darken, lust blown pupils locked on the way you swallow, cock twitching in his jeans. 

You suck at his fingers, tongue swirling over the digits until Law is satisfied, slipping them from your mouth. Your cheeks flush at the wet, intentional drag of them over your abdomen, marked path as he slips them between your thighs and sinks them into you.

Your face burns and heart hammers at the wet noises of movement, the way you can't help but clench around his fingers, desperate for friction. You're not sure if it's better or worse than his tongue, sharp cry leaving your mouth when his thumb finds that swollen bundle of nerves again. 

All you can do is pant and moan as he works you open with his fingers, drag of his digits against your pulsing walls working you ever closer to that precipice again.

This time he doesn't pull away as you near your orgasm, watching as you buck your hips, chasing that high, the tightening of your walls around his fingers as he finally, finally lets you cum.

You offer a choked sob as pleasure washes over you, clenching hard against the continuous work of Law's fingers in your slick heat as you soak his hand. He helps you ride it out, though he doesn't let up.

"You can give me another." It's spoken as a command more than a taunt, one you're helpless to deny as he makes you buck against the pain-pleasure pull of overstimulation.

The second orgasm is quick, coupled with the hard press of his thumb and curve of his fingers against the spot that fries your nerves as you cum a second time, babbling incoherently as you add to the mess you're inevitably making of him and the bed. 

Law watches you pant, the whimper as he drags his fingers from your over sensitive warmth to examine the slick mess of his fingers. You blush as he brings his fingers to his mouth, cleaning the digits of your cum. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want his tongue back against you, or better yet, the hard heat of his dick nestled deep inside you. 

He leans as if he's going to kiss you, but the purse of his lips is the only warning you get before saliva smacks against your cheek. Shame heats your cheeks for the whine that leaves your lips, the way you clench around nothing in answer. 

"How pathetic," he taunts, laughing when you whine at his words. "Are you that desperate?"

He knows the answer to that, the way you watch him ㅡ and he kisses you, tastes of both you and himself as he deepens it, claims your mouth and muffles your soft whine.

The jingle of his belt being unhooked and downward tug of his pants is a godsend, his soft hiss as he settles over you making you shiver. 

The sink of him into you is quick and hard, made rough for the snap of his hips against yours, the pleasure of being filled so completely making your head spin. 

Law sets a brutal pace, groans at the way your back arches and your hips work to meet his thrusts, tip kissing that spongy spot within you. 

"Brat," he grunts, breath hot against your skin. "Acting like I don't give you what you want. I do, don't I?"

"You do," you manage, but it isn't good enough for Law as he grabs at the soft plush of your thigh, drags it up, sinks deeper and revels in the high, stuttered cry and plea that follows. "There, right there, please—"

"Shut up," he hisses, "don't demand things from me. You take what I give you and you don't complain, got it?"

You could cry, and maybe you are ㅡ it's hard to think about it when Law is fucking you like this, splitting you open in a way only he can. A way you only want him to, reverent in the way his body connects with yours.

Your third orgasm of the night sweeps over you like a tidal wave, hot and fast as it swallows you and you whimper as he keeps moving, prolonging the pleasure. "Law, I can't, I can'tㅡ"

"You can," he almost snarls, desperate for his own orgasm with the way you throb around him, pairing the hard snap of his hips with the way he squeezes at your jaw. "Open."

Your lips part obediently and he groans, shuddering as he spits into your own mouth before he kisses you. It's dirty and messy, makes you burn for the shame of it all ㅡ and pushes you into your fourth and final orgasm of the night. 

The hard spasm of your walls pulls Law with you, the way he tenses and groans, pushing himself as deep into you as he can before he spills, filling you to the brim.

Law presses his sweat slick forehead against your shoulder, fighting to even his breathing before he speaks. "Color?"

"Green," you rasp, "but I can't feel my legs." The unholy seep of your release and his makes you shudder as he slips out of you, the aching burn of your thighs.

"Sorry," Law murmurs, kisses your jawline and makes you hum tiredly. "Think you'll be able to walk tomorrow?"

The recall to the overheard conversation makes you squeak, slapping at Law's arm as he laughs.

[chibieggplant]

Confessions with Penguin

My boy Penguin doesn’t get enough love. No warnings just banter and fluff.

You sat eating your lunch watching your other crew mates converse and joke with each other when suddenly you were jolted out of your little world feeling a nudge on your shoulder.

“Hey! I told you to stop doing that” You grumble as you rub your arm.

"What, this?" Penguin nudges your shoulder again as he takes the seat next to you.

You swipe his hat from his head in retaliation as he sits down.

"Hey, give that back!" he protests with a smile as he tries to grab his hat back.

“Nuh uh!” you pull the hat down snug on your head sticking your tongue out him.

Penguin lets out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, but can I at least get my hat back after lunch?" He didn’t take his hat off…ever, but he couldn’t deny you did look pretty cute in it so he would make an exception.

“You’ll get it back when you promise to stop nudging me”

"Fine, fine. I swear I won't nudge you again" He said, crossing his fingers behind his back.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? That wasn’t a proper promise” you smirk adjusting his hat on your head proudly.

"What do you want from me? Blood?" he says in a pouty voice, crossing his arms.

“Yeah! I want you to make a solom vow”

"You're impossible" he rolled his eyes as he nudged you again.

“And you’re annoying” you say with a smile not really meaning it.

"Shut up" he said playfully, punching you in the arm lightly this time.

“Point proven” you laugh punching his arm back.

"Oh, you wanna go?" he asked playfully, pretending to throw a punch your way.

“You’re the one who punched me first!”

"But it was just a light punch, not like yours, you nearly took my arm off!” he says dramatically, feigning an exaggerated expression of pain.

“I’m sure you’ll survive” you chuckled rolling your eyes.

"No, no I’m pretty sure i’m dying." he says dramatically again, grabbing his arm in ‘pain’.

“Well can you die quietly then please?” You smile as you go back to eating your lunch.

"Well, thanks for your concern. My final seconds on Earth and you can't even show a little sympathy for your favourite crew member" he said with a fake sad expression.

“I’ll make sure to put on your tombstone that you went out from a light punch to the arm” you deadpanned.

"Make sure it's carved in marble too” he said sarcastically with a dramatic flourish.

“You’ll get a wooden cross at best” you chuckled.

"It better be mahogany at the very least”

“I’m sure I can find some nice looking sticks outside”

"They have to be the perfect length, not too short but not too long either. Oh, and make sure the shape is nice and straight, no twisted branches"

“I’ll do my best…just for you” you smile as you throw a french fry in your mouth trying not to laugh.

"Thank you for doing the bare minimum" he said, faking a dramatic sigh before shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

“What happened to ‘my final seconds on earth’? Shouldn’t you be dead by now?” you smirked. “I’m pretty sure dead guys don’t steal other people’s food”

He tried hard not to laugh, his lips twitching. “I'm fighting for my life here”

“Shut up” You smile throwing a french fry at him.

He catches the fry in his hand and pops it into his mouth. “So rude, even in my dying moments”

“You’re insufferable” you smile shaking your head.

"But you still like me, right?" he said leaning on the table.

“Someone has to” you shrug.

"Oh, please, you secretly have a huge crush on me” he teased, batting his eyelashes.

“You wish” you grin throwing another french fry at him.

He quickly catches the fry again in his hand and eats it. "Don't even try to deny it. We've been friends forever, there's no way you're not in love with me"

“By that logic that means you’re in love with me too” You smirk before quickly realising what you just said…did you just admit to being in love with him?

It takes him a second but then his eyes widened in realisation. Was that an actual slip-up? Did his crew mate, his crush, actually just admit she felt the same way?

“W-wait…what did you just say?”

You looked away suddenly, your eyes fixating on an empty spot across the room. You could feel yourself starting to flush. Had you really just admitted your feelings to him?

You try to backtrack quickly “N-no y-you- I mean…like as a friend…” but you just end up fumbling your words.

He noticed how your words faltered and caught onto the way your cheeks blushed red. Were you just messing around with him?

“No, no, hold on a second. Back up. What did you just say?”

You looked away, embarrassed. “I-it was j-just a joke. I wasn't being serious, really”

His eyes were on your every move. He saw your blush grow deeper, your eyes darting across the room. In that moment, he knew your words had been genuine, not just a funny joke.

“You're lying”

You stayed silent for a few moments, hesitating to respond. Your heart raced as you realised he had read you like a book.

"It was just... I... I just meant by your logic that would mean you’re in love with me…too” You said the last word so quiet that you’d be surprised if he heard it.

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. He couldn't believe it. Did he actually hear what he thought he had? He knew he wasn't imagining things when you started stumbling over you words. He knew you felt the same way as he did. Now he just needed to confirm the answer.

“Say it again”

“S-say what?” The blush across your cheeks refused to leave your face as you still couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him.

He leaned slightly closer to you, lowering his voice so that it could only reach her ears.

“Say that you're in love with me…”

You looked at him through the corner of her eye, completely shaken up by this whole situation.

“D-do you really want me to say it?”

He took your face in his hands so that your eyes met. You shivered at the touch of his hands, a wave of butterflies washing over you as you felt his eyes gazing into yours. Your heart was racing, pounding rapidly in your chest but what you didn’t know was his heart was also beating just as fast.

“Just say it…please”

Your words were breathless, barely even a whisper. “I-I’m... in love with you”

A smile spread across his face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. He could barely believe this moment was actually happening, that the person he had loved for so long also shared those feelings with him. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you forever. But he knew he needed to hold back, he didn't want to rush anything…not yet anyway.

“Well look at that, here I was thinking I was the only one...”

[callme-holly]

Do you think maybe you could write for Johnny where he goes on a first date with reader but he’s nervous and kinda messes it up but they try again and it works out? Sorry if that’s too specific!! Love your writing ♥️

'𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬' [𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I'm so sorry if parts of this doesn't make sense, I've been so sick this past week, my lungs are actually giving up on me.

Anyway, illness aside, as always I hope ya'll enjoy this and my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 897 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing and Johnny being Johnny <33

Johnny Cade chews on his bottom lip nervously, his fingers tapping against the surface of the table as he looks anywhere but you. He knows he should start up some sort of conversation; hell, he invited you here in the first place, but every time he opens his mouth to speak, he can't seem to muster up the words. His tongue feels like sandpaper, his throat dry and scratchy, and he can't help but notice the way you’re watching him from the other side of the table, eyebrows raised slightly as if you can sense that something is troubling him. 

Your eyes are gentle and sympathetic as they hold his own gaze firmly in place, but there's something else there too, something akin to sympathy. Or maybe it's concern. The same sort of concern that you would show to a frightened child or a scared cat. Johnny is not either of those things.

He clears his throat, looking down at his now half-empty coke bottle.

“So, uh,” he begins, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, not quite meeting your gaze. “What d'ya wanna talk about?” He tries to sound casual, but there's an underlying tone of nervousness that he can't seem to hide as you shrug slightly in response to his question.

 “Well, I don’t know,” you say softly. “I suppose we could talk about anything.”

His mouth opens, then shuts again just as quickly.

Anything? That wasn't helpful at all... 

“Do you... um...” He trails off for a second before shaking his head slightly. This was ridiculous. He knew what he wanted to say; why couldn't he get any fucking words out around you? 

Johnny shakes his head. “Never mind,” he mutters, his voice quiet as he goes back to staring at his coke bottle. You watch as his fingers tap idly at the glass, huffing out a small, quiet sigh. 

After another moment of silence, you reach across the table and take one of his hands, gently entwining your fingers with his. He stills instantly, startled by your touch, and you pull back slightly.

“Sorry. Was that too forward?”

“No!” His voice cracks slightly as he blinks owlishly at you. “Uh, no. It was... um... fine.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “It's fine. I mean, you just... surprised me, that's all.” He laughs weakly before clearing his throat again. “What did you say you wanted to talk about?”

You smile faintly. “I didn't.”

“Oh.” He swallows thickly, trying to ignore how badly he wishes he could just turn and run for the door. Why had he let Dally talk him into this? His buddy didn’t know any more about dates than he himself did. He should’ve gone to Soda instead. 

“Johnny?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns to face you again, finding you watching him intently, an unreadable expression on your face as you slowly begin to pull your hand back once more. “Are you okay? You've been acting weird since we got here. If you're uncomfortable, I understand. We can leave and find something else to do.”

“No!” He blurts, reaching to entwine your fingers, only to knock over his drink in the process, the contents promptly spilling over the table and, much to Johnny’s horror, onto you. His eyes widen in dismay, and he stands abruptly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the table across from you and wiping up the spill as fast as his trembling hands will allow, a string of apologies tumbling forth from his lips as he does so. 

“Shit, I'm sorry,"  he manages to stammer before you cut him off.

“It's fine, Johnny. Don't worry about it.” You stand slowly from your seat, trying to ignore the cold press of the wet fabric on your skin as you usher him out of the diner, ignoring the strange looks you receive from other patrons. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, the greaser is throwing apologies at you once more, running a hand through his heavily greased hair. “God damn it, I'm so-”

You shake your head. “Hey,” you interrupt quietly. “It's okay. Really.”

“Still…” He hesitates, taking in a shaky breath before starting to speak again. “Look, can we maybe try again? Somewhere that isn't a busy diner with loads of people.” He rubs nervously at the back of his neck, unable to meet your gaze.

He didn't usually have a problem with busy places, but he certainly didn't enjoy it when everybody's attention was on him, their judgement heavy and suffocating as they bore holes into him with their disgusted stares. 

He shakes his head and adds, “Maybe somewhere with a lower risk of me spillin' my drink all over ya.”

Your lips tug upwards. “Sure, we can try again. How about a movie on Friday night?” 

Your suggestion brings a light flush to Johnny's cheeks, and he nods eagerly. A movie might help to take his mind off everything, to take away from his nerves a little bit. 

“Yea, sure.” He pauses and bites at his lower lip briefly. “You need me to walk ya home?”

You laugh softly. “No. It's only a few blocks. You get yourself home, Johnny Cade.”

He nods, looking hopeful. “Right. See you Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm, offering him one last smile before heading off in the direction of your house, leaving him standing dumbfounded on the curb.

Gosh, wait until Dally hears about this... 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[luveline]

this is kinda self indulgent but a few hours ago i was trying to fix some problems with my email and im not tech savvy so i was frustrated and at that point i just cried and gave up LMAO can we get that with a comforting remus☺️☺️ i totally get if you'll refuse this request but if ever you take the time to write this thank you so much🫶❤️❤️

modern au

“I don't know how to do it,” you say. You're walking that fine line between frustration and upset, paralysed, and when you talk the emotion in your voice is obvious. 

Remus perks up, which is to say he hears it and immediately comes to attention. “Do what, dove?” 

“I can't fix this email thing, I thought I fixed it, but it's still broken.” 

Remus is about as tech savvy as you are, which isn't very. He uses his laptop for Microsoft Word and Scrivener; he barely opens his emails. “I can have a look?” he offers anyways. 

Remus sits on the bench beside you at the kitchen table and pulls your laptop toward him. You have a hard time telling him the problem, all choked up with heat and wishing it would fix itself, “I probably messed it up myself but nothing comes up when I search for it and I just don't understand it.” 

He does a couple of the things that you'd already tried with no success. At your wits end, you stand up from the bench thinking you'll make yourself a drink, a burning lump in your throat as you grab a glass from the draining board and fill it with water. 

“I'm sorry, dove, I don't think I'm gonna do it. I'll ring Mary.” 

“It's okay.” You press your hand to your eyes. It's not okay, you're fed up and tired and you hate using the laptop. “Why is everything so difficult?” 

“Dove–” 

“I don't care, it can stay broken.” Unbidden, a furious tear races down your cheek. 

You glare at the glass of water in your hand and put it down in the sink. Remus makes his sound, that loving hum of sympathy as he stands to sidle up behind you. “It's alright,” he says, testing the waters with a hand on your shoulder.

You slouch at his touch and he takes it for the go ahead, wrapping his arms around you from the back, his chin pressed to the skin just shy of your eye. “Don't be upset, lovely,” he encourages, hands roving up and down the front of you gently. “We'll fix it. Just take a breath.” 

“I don't know why it won't work,” you say, trying to be more angry than upset. 

“I'm sure we'll figure it out. You've been on the laptop for hours, why don't we go sit down and watch the telly for a bit?” He takes one of your hands, holds it to your chest as he curves in around you. “Please don't wind yourself up. I'll get someone to fix it, okay? It's not the end of the world.” 

You know it isn't, but this is nice. You turn in his embrace for a proper chest-to-chest hug, wiping your tears dry in his shoulder. “You sound so sad when you sniffle,” he whispers, chuckling fondly as you do. 

“Sorry. I'm just annoyed.” 

“I know. It'll be fine, don't stress out about it.” His hands fan out over your shoulders, an encompassment physically that mirrors the warmth of his vocal comfort, the mild roughness of his voice and the care put into each word. 

He always cares about things, even when they're small in the grand scheme. “Thank you for trying to fix it,” you say into his shoulder. “I feel better knowing there wasn't an easy solution.” 

“Well, there might be. Or we're both idiots,” he jokes. 

You laugh wetly, hooking your chin over his shoulder. “Maybe.” You sigh, feeling much less heavy than you had. “At least we're idiots together.” 

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

A GENTLE TOUCH

Word Count: 1K

Pairing(s): Rafe x Reader

Warnings: Comfort, Fluff, Kiss

Summary: Reader has cramps

As you step into your apartment after a long day at work, the last thing you expect is to find yourself doubled over in pain from debilitating cramps. You curse under your breath, frustration bubbling up as you realise you're completely alone, with no one to turn to for help.

Just as you're about to resign yourself to suffering in silence, there's a knock at the door, and you groan inwardly, dreading the interruption. You swing open the door, fully prepared to send whoever it is packing, but your annoyance evaporates when you see Rafe standing on the other side.

Rafe Cameron, your best friend's infuriatingly charming older brother. The same Rafe who has always managed to get under your skin with his cocky attitude and devil-may-care demeanor. The last person you ever expected to come to your rescue.

"What do you want?" you snap, unable to keep the irritation out of your voice. Rafe raises an eyebrow, unfazed by your hostile tone as he takes in your pale complexion and hunched posture.

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. You grit your teeth, torn between wanting to snap at him and desperately needing someone to acknowledge the agony you're in.

"I'm fine," you mutter, but even you can hear the lie in your voice. Rafe doesn't buy it for a second, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of skepticism and sympathy.

"Sure you are," he replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Mind if I come in?"

You hesitate for a moment, your pride warring with your need for relief. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you step aside and gesture for Rafe to enter.

He strides into your apartment with all the confidence of someone who knows they're not welcome, but you're too preoccupied with your own discomfort to care.

Rafe surveys the scene with a critical eye, taking in your pained expression and hunched posture. Without a word, he disappears into your kitchen, and you're left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do next.

He returns a moment later with a steaming mug of tea and a small bottle of painkillers, holding them out to you with a surprisingly gentle expression.

"Here," he says gruffly. "Drink this. It'll help."

You eye the offerings warily, half expecting some kind of prank or trick. But when you catch a glimpse of genuine concern in Rafe's eyes, you reluctantly accept the mug and swallow the pills, grateful for any relief they might bring.

To your surprise, the tea is warm and soothing, and the painkillers start to take effect slowly. You let out a sigh of relief, sinking onto the couch with a grateful groan.

"Thanks," you mumble, casting a wary glance in Rafe's direction. He shrugs nonchalantly, but there's a hint of satisfaction in his eyes that makes you uneasy.

"Don't mention it," he replies, his tone oddly gentle. "Just trying to be a good neighbour."

You scoff at the notion, unable to believe that Rafe Cameron would ever do something out of the kindness of his heart.

As you settle onto the couch, the warmth of the tea and the soothing effect of the painkillers begin to take hold slightly, easing the sharp edges of the pain. Rafe watches you closely, his expression a mix of concern and something else you can't quite place.

"Feeling any better?" he asks, his voice softer now, lacking the usual edge of sarcasm. You nod, offering him a small, grateful smile.

"Yeah, thanks to you," you admit, surprising yourself with your honesty.

Rafe's lips twitch into a half-smile, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. You quickly shake off the feeling, dismissing it as a trick of the light.

But then he's moving closer, his hands reaching out to gently touch your shoulders. You stiffen at the unexpected contact, but before you can protest, he's kneading the tense muscles of your lower back with a skillful touch that leaves you breathless.

You let out a soft sigh of relief as the knots begin to unravel beneath his fingertips, the pain slowly giving way to a dull throb. Rafe's touch is surprisingly gentle, his fingers tracing soothing circles against your skin as he works to ease your discomfort.

And then, almost instinctively, his hands drift lower, skimming over the curve of your hips before coming to rest just above your uterus.

You gasp at the sudden intimacy of the gesture, but before you can pull away, Rafe is pressing down with just the right amount of pressure, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

You bite back a moan, cursing yourself for the way your body responds to his touch. Rafe's hands are warm and sure as they work their magic, his touch igniting a fire within you that you struggle to contain.

But then he lets out a soft groan, a sound so unexpected that it takes you by surprise. You glance up at him in confusion, but his eyes are closed, his expression one of pure concentration as he continues to massage your lower back and uterus.

You can feel the tension building between you, the air thick with a potent mix of desire and something else you can't quite name.

And then, suddenly, it's too much, and you're both struggling to contain the arousal that simmers just beneath the surface.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to discreetly adjust yourself, but it's no use. Rafe's eyes snap open, and you can see the desire burning in their depths as he meets your gaze with a hunger that takes your breath away.

Without warning, he's leaning in, his lips brushing against yours in a searing kiss that leaves you gasping for air. You respond eagerly, losing yourself in the heat of the moment as you give in to the passion that has been simmering between you for far too long.

In that instant, all thoughts of pain and discomfort vanish, replaced by a fierce hunger that consumes you both.

As you cling to each other desperately, lost in a whirlwind of desire, you realise that sometimes, the most unexpected moments can lead to the sweetest pleasures of all.

Taglist:

@anonymouscameron @ilovethekookprince @rafecameronsgirfriend

[bloody-cupcakes]

Yandere/dark Tenth Doctor x reader; he helps you celebrate your birthday

Tw: yandere/dark content, soft yandere, threatened force feeding (it doesn't happen though), implied kidnapping/Stockholm syndrome, gender neutral reader, the Doctor uses affectionate pet names such as star, angel, and love, brief swearing, referenced past hypnotism/mind control

A/N: it's my birthday and I happen to share it with none other David Tennant himself so naturally I had to write something a little dark with the Tenth Doctor in order to celebrate 🥳🎈🎂

The bed dipped down beside you as you tried to play it off like you were still asleep. "Happy birthday, star," the Doctor softly cooed in your ear, gently shaking you as you laid there. Obviously he figured out you were faking. "It's time to get up so I can give you your gift."

You pressed your face closer into the pillow and let out a defiant huff. "I don't wanna," you whined quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear. As much as you might've enjoyed your birthday before, you'd recently been dreading its approach due to the circumstances you found yourself in.

Part of you had hoped that maybe he wouldn't remember, and then you could say you didn't remember either if it ever came up in further conversation, but unfortunately you had no such luck. You didn't even question how he knew it: at this point you didn't want to know where he got any additional information that you didn't willingly give up.

"I said, it's time to get up." His tone was a bit more forceful than before; it made you gulp nervously and sent shivers down your spine. "I don't want to have to repeat myself again, understood?"

"Yes, sir," you responded obediently, your voice sounding timid and meek as you slowly sat up in the bed. "I'm sorry." You stuck your bottom lip out and widened your eyes, trying to make yourself look as innocent and unsuspecting as possible, something you knew he always fell for.

"I guess I'm just a little upset that I won't be getting to spend today with my family." It could very well have been a bold faced lie, but he didn't need to know that. It wouldn't matter, anyway. You knew he wasn't going to take you back home, but at the very least you were hoping for some sympathy, which you got.

"Oh, angel..." His voice went back to its usual soft spoken tone as he pulled you onto his lap, his brow furrowed as his eyes filled with concern. "I know you miss them, love, but I can't take you back. You know that. Besides, this is your home now." He gestured to your room inside the TARDIS, one that he filled with items he'd taken from your old place.

Against your better judgement, you cuddled up close to him on his lap, nuzzling your face into the side of his neck. You inhaled the scent of his aftershave, something that you thought you'd always hate when he first took you. Now, though, it provided you some much needed comfort whenever you were feeling down.

"I'm going to go get your gift, okay? I'll be right back." You made a soft noise of protest as he slipped you off his lap and back onto the bed, watching as he got up and left the room. Pouting, you crossed your arms and just sat there, waiting for him to return.

The Doctor soon returned, carrying a plate with a large slice of birthday cake on it. He chuckled upon seeing the grouchy look on your face. "I told you I'd be right back." He walked over and took a seat back on the bed, setting the plate down in front of you. "Boy, you must've missed me an awful lot, hm?"

You stuck your tongue out to show you didn't appreciate his teasing. "Careful, otherwise your face is going to freeze like that." He picked up the fork and stuck it in the slice of cake, breaking off a piece before holding it up. "Look, I got your favorite."

Knowing exactly what he wanted, you kept your mouth shut, refusing to eat the piece of cake on front of you. If you were in a better mood, then maybe you'd be fine with it. After all, you'd grown used to him feeding you, even if it was a tad bit degrading.

But today was just not the day for all of that. You couldn't be sure exactly what time it was, as there wasn't a clock in your room, but you were fairly certain he'd woken you up just past midnight . Honestly, the nerve to not even let you sleep on on your own birthday.

"I don't want any. I'm not hungry," you mumbled as you looked down, not feeling brave enough to meet his gaze, even if you were openly defying him by refusing the "gift" he'd gotten you.

"Very funny, star. I woke you up early, so now you're going to be a brat and refuse to eat your cake," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at you. "Look, would you just eat it? It's only one slice, love, c'mon now."

"No. I said I don't want to," you blurted out in frustration, glaring at him. The moment his eyes darkened, you felt your blood run cold, realizing you'd made a mistake. "I- I'm sorry, I'm just a little tired-"

Your poorly made excuses were cut off quickly by the Doctor's harsh tone. "I don't care how tired you are, do you hear me? We are going to sit here until you eat every damn bite, if I have to force it down your throat."

A loud whimper of fear escaped you at his scolding tone, causing him to let out a sigh as he recognized he'd gone a bit too far. "Love, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to be so rough sounding with you," he gently reassured you as he shifted closer to you on the bed.

Deciding it wasn't worth it to fight him (despite how much you really didn't want to be held), you allowed him to pull you onto his lap for a second time. "I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean to upset you in that way," he spoke in a low and soothing voice while wrapping his arms around you.

"You were mean," you choked out as your eyes began to fill with tears. Although it was ridiculous to believe, especially with no proof, you always thought he'd done something that made you much more emotional and sensitive than you used to be, just so he could have the chance to comfort you.

(Technically your suspicions weren't all that far off, as he'd asked a favor from his best enemy back when he first took you. He figured that maybe if you were more docile and submissive it'd be easier to make you stay with him, so he convinced the Master to hypnotize you in an effort to change the chemistry of your brain and make it so you'd be dependent fully on him. Of course, you didn't know any of this, though it wouldn't have surprised you even if you did.)

"I know I was, love, and I'm sorry." He reached over and moved the plate, resting it on your thigh as he picked up the fork again. "Just eat this, then you can go back to bed, okay? I promise." The offer was certainly tempting, and the cake didn't actually look (or smell) that bad.

"Okay," you sniffled in a small voice, opening your mouth just enough for him to stick the fork in. The taste of the buttercream frosting hit your tongue first, the silky smooth texture followed by the fluffiness of the cake. The Doctor smiled in delight as he watched you eat it.

"Good, good. There you go, see? I knew you'd like it." He broke off another piece from the slice and held it up to your mouth again, feeding you in almost the same manner a mother would to her child. "You're doing so well for me, star, I'm so proud of you."

You felt your face heat up in a blush at his praise, humming happily as you continued to eat. His words of encouragement pushed you to keep eating, even if you weren't really that hungry to begin with. A full belly and an empty plate later, you were finally done, licking your lips clean of icing.

"See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" He placed the fork on the plate and set them both down on the bedside table. "Did you enjoy your gift, star, hm? I thought you might like it, seeing as that's your favorite."

As you were still savoring the final bites of the slice of cake, you nodded your head eagerly. He grinned in response, glad to know you'd liked it. "Good, I'm glad." Noticing there was some icing smeared on your upper lip, he leaned in and dragged his tongue across it suddenly, an action that left you both shocked and flustered.

Laughing at your reaction, he gave your lips a quick kiss before saying in a low and suggestive voice, "I'm sorry, angel, I just couldn't resist. You looked too sweet not to taste for myself."

Too embarrassed to say anything, you turned and buried your face into his chest, which only caused him to laugh harder. "Oh, star, you're always so easy to tease." He ran his hand up and down your back in a comforting fashion, smirking playfully.

A soft yawn could be heard coming from you as drowsiness started to overcome you. "I'm really tired, can I go back to sleep now?" You asked in a sleepy mumble, looking up at him with eyes that were droopy as an effect of being woken up in the middle of the night.

"Of course you can, love. I won't keep you awake any longer." He pulled the covers over top of you before flicking off the lamp beside the bed. Pressing a loving kiss to your head, you could hear him faintly murmur just before you drifted off to sleep: "happy birthday".

[sirthisisa-wendys]

so faux sympathy is like them pretending to be nice to you? In a sexual way it could be them saying "shh, shh, shh it'll be fine baby" while simultaneously edging you. its pretending to be nice (with words) but is actually vv mean (with actions)

GOTCHA

OG Black Dragons it is!

Solicitudes: Keizo Arashi/Takeomi Akashi/Wakasa Imaushi/ Shinichiro Sano x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.3k

tw: forced orgasms, tight fits, edging, crying, dacryphilia, just a bunch of smut, alright?

masterlist

Keizo Arashi - "Stuffed Full"

"Please, please, please..." Keizo's fingers swipe at your red cheeks, praying no wetness would find the soft skin as he presses into your pussy. "Please, big daddy, please, please."

"What're you begging for, baby?" he wonders, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest. "Need me to stop?"

"Need to go slow..."

"Oh, you can take it," Keizo hums, kissing the top of your head as he moves inside of you. "You always do so well."

"Big daddy," you moan a little louder, your voice vibrating against his chest. "Big daddy, your dick is--"

"It's okay," he urges you, stroking your hair and finding a pleasurable rhythm to fuck into you from below. You're flattened against his chest, but your hips are bouncing against his. The sounds your pussy is making drive him wild, and your expression is one of being lost, one of being absolutely and utterly in space. "I've got you, babe."

"You..."

"Mmhmm," he whispers, moving his hands to grip your hips so he has more control. "Let me handle this. You just lay right here so I can fuck you back to sleep, yeah? Let big daddy do this for you."

You nod as if you're in a trance, and Keizo leans his head back onto the pillows, closes his eyes, and continues fucking you so he can join you in that same trance.

Takeomi Akashi - "Edged to The Brink"

"You can take one more, can't you?"

Your blindfold is soaked with tears. Takeomi holds your legs apart with his hands, and his cock dangles dangerously close to your entrance. It's already covered in your slick, drenched to hell with your juices, but not your cum. Not yet.

"'M sorry, Omi; I'm sorry!" Takeomi clicks his tongue and shakes his head, looking down at your face with a hazy sense of dominance. He runs a finger from your quivering lips to your chest, circles each nipple, then eases right back into you. You both hiss out a long breath, and Takeomi begins his work again, bringing you to the edge of your sanity.

Just like you'd done to him so many times before this with your crazy cheating scandals and absurd antics.

"I'm such a bad guy for making you cry, huh?" You fight the urge to nod your head; Takeomi can see it in the way your neck stiffens. "What's a girl to do when Big Bad Omi edges her like this?" Your mouth opens, but Takeomi shushes you, placing a single finger on your lips. "Not fair, is it?"

"Not fair," you echo, trying to catch your breath as he picks up his speed. Takeomi's not one for revenge. Usually. But tonight, you'd come back to him with your tail between your legs and a long list of things you would and wouldn't do anymore. So he had to test you.

It was only right.

"You'll earn your orgasms from now on," Takeomi bites out, his green eyes squinting at your pitiful form on his bed. "Understand?"

"Yes," you whimper. "I understand." Takeomi's scar itches, but he ignores it in favor of feeling your cunt squeeze around him.

"I'll edge you to hell and back if you think I'm kidding."

"I'll be good, I promise." Your breathy moans make Takeomi want to cum in you right then and there. But you'd have to earn that back, too.

You tense up, right on the edge of another orgasm... but Takeomi pulls out, and fists himself to completion all over your stomach. You cry out in dismay, but he just grunts and finishes, then leaves the bed.

"You want to be my girl? Then be my girl."

Wakasa Imaushi - "Overstimulated"

"I can't..."

"Of course, you can, baby..." Wakasa hovers over you, holding the Hitachi wand right against your clit. "You're doing so good for me. I just need one more orgasm so you're nice and wet."

"Can't," you cry out, tears threatening to push past your eyelids. It's not that you don't want to cum. Waka knows this. But he needs you soaking wet so he can pump you full of his cum tonight. He's a man on a mission - and your satisfaction is his goal.

"You poor thing," he sighs, turning up the speed on the wand. "You've done it before for me, baby girl. Do you need some more help?" You squirm underneath his guidance, your fingers clasping for something that he can give you, something to touch, but landing on nothing but air.

Your hands - tied above your head - wriggle and flail about as Wakasa smirks, his unbound hair flowing around his shoulders and tickling your skin.

"You're doing great, baby girl. Daddy just needs one more..."

Your choked cry makes Waka hard as fuck, but he simply palms himself through his trousers as you seek the final thread of release. You're struggling, but that doesn't mean Waka will leave you out to dry.

No, no.

His hand moves from his pants to your breast, and with deft fingers, Waka tweaks your nipple hard enough to make you cry out in shock but not in pain. You jerk once, and Waka knows you've found it. The mystical cord that connects you to your impending orgasm makes his own orgasm that much closer, and you work your hips against the vibrator as if to bring yourself closer to the edge.

"That's it," Waka murmurs, practically salivating at the sight of you working so hard to cum. "Look at you, doing your best."

When the orgasm is ripped from you for the fourth time, Wakasa tosses the vibrator aside and forces his pants off his hips eagerly. He needs to be inside of you now.

"Now, it's my turn," he huffs, fisting his cock right as he sinks into oblivion.

Shinichiro Sano - "Slow Down"

It feels like Shinichiro had waited all of his life for you. Marriage had always been the end goal. While that didn't mean you'd stay together forever, there was no way Shin would go back to his twenty rejections, not after being in heaven with you nearly every day.

Shin's hips stutter against yours, and he feels his release dangle in front of him like a carrot. He indeed enjoys cumming as much as he can, but the only thing that could encourage his own release is yours.

"Shin," you whine, reaching back to grab his wrist. Your fingers wrap around his bones with care, even though you're shaking and shivering and doing all of the right things. His eyes flutter open, and he looks at you, tears rolling down your pretty, puffy cheeks. "Shin, please..."

But he doesn't stop. You're not hurt. He knew when you were hurt, so why are you crying? "Hmm?"

"My pussy is so swollen," you murmur, reaching down to play with your clit. "Take it easy on me, babe."

"Mmm," he hums, bending over you. "Does it hurt, my sweet?"

"No," you admit, but tears still slip down your cheeks. Shin licks at one of them, relishing the taste of salt on his tongue.

"You want me to ease up?" You nod, allowing Shin to rock his hips into you carefully. "You want me to not fuck your brains out?"

"No," you protest, but Shin keeps going.

"Maybe we should stop for a little while. That might make things easier, hm?" Your pussy clenches around his cock, and Shin knows he's got you wrapped around his finger when you begin to fuck him back. His hand reaches around your waist and knocks your fingers away from your clit. "Should just come home and finger you from now on, it seems."

"Didn't say that," you gasp, simultaneously riding his fingers and milking his cock for all he's worth.

"No?" Shin rubs your clit faster, and you arch your back, crying out in pleasure. "Thought you wanted that, sweetheart. You want me to take it easy on you. I can definitely do that."

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," you chant through your teeth, and Shin leans back and pistons into your cunt with as much force as he can muster.

"Now, cum for me. Cum right on my cock."

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts-a-Lot. cw: pensioner injury]

(1) (2) (3) 4: fall (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

'I'm fine, I'm fine,' Mrs Hudson is insisting when John finally makes it downstairs. After setting a land-speed record in nappy changing, which had not woken Rosie up enough to object to being put into her cot (thank Christ), he had got to their landlady's side as soon as humanly possible.

'Causing trouble, Mrs H?' he asks lightly as he crouches down beside her. She's supine but Sherlock has fetched a decorative pillow, antique-looking lace peeking out from under her ear as she turns toward him.

'Oh, John dear, will you tell your young man to stop fussing?'

John glances at Sherlock. 'Nah,' he replies as he takes her carotid pulse and scans her frame for obvious injury. 'You know he only listens to me when it suits him, and right now it suits him to fuss. I cannot work miracles.' He gestures to the smaller pillow under her left wrist. 'May I?'

She nods, but he sees the worry in her eyes before she deploys her stiff upper lip. He examines the wrist as gently as possible, then gives Sherlock a small nod. The detective pulls out his phone as John continues. 'I'm afraid that'll need x-raying, Mrs Hudson. Is there anything else? Or did the wrist take most of it?'

He doesn't have to ask what happened; the fall risk increases far too quickly in one's later years, and there's a shattered vase slinging out a puddle of watery daffodils a few feet away.

'I'm afraid so,' she frets as John helps her sit up. 'I won't be able to bake you boys your--'

'Hush,' Sherlock says firmly, pocketing his phone again, call completed. 'That's why we have John. You and I will be twins now, you see?' He holds up his cast. 'And he won't be able to resist taking care of us, it's in his nature.'

'Yeah, all right, settle down,' John says dryly.

But Mrs Hudson clasps Sherlock's hand with her good one, nodding happily. 'Oh yes, it'll be good practice for when you're my age, after you've grown old together.'

John coughs, and can't stop his gaze from meeting Sherlock's, if only for a moment. Tension unspools across the space of things unsaid, and John has never been more relieved-- or cowardly-- to hear a horn sound at the kerb. 'I believe that's your ride?'

Her palm is on his cheek, cold and tissue-soft, and for a moment her eyes are so full of sympathy it makes his stomach churn. 'Thank you.' She turns to Sherlock. 'Both of you. My dear boys.'

John ducks his head, smiling. 'Would you like us to ring your sister, have her come down?'

She shakes her head. 'I'd like you to march right back upstairs and work out whatever it is that's got you tiptoeing around each other. Before I'm home from hospital.'

'Er. Right.' John feels his neck redden, and immediately escapes to open the front door. And in the usual controlled chaos of paramedics, he manages to avoid her gaze until the very last moment.

'Promise me,' she says before the ambulance doors close.

He's desperate to get her on her way, on several levels, so he opens his mouth, ready to say whatever it takes. He briefly considers crossing his fingers behind his back.

But Sherlock's voice preempts him. 'Of course we will, Mrs Hudson.' He lays his hand on the blanket, over her ankle, for a moment, and gives her one of his rare, genuine affectionate grins. 'Anything for you.'

'Good,' she says sweetly. Too sweetly. John eyes her, but all she does is smile at him. 'Now shoo.'

[❤️]