#hey if you’re still reading this i love you

[zyonsay]

Een Nacht JOOST KLEIN

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: An unplanned encounter led to a fun adventure.

Reader: Male, Tattoed

Warnings: NSFW, Unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol, cigarettes

Now playing: 'One of the girls' by The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp & JENNIE from BLACKPINK

AN: Hello everyone <3 i've been gone for a while and i still dont have much time to write, but i got overcome by my joost klein obsession.. again. I hope y'all enjoy this. I expected to write like 2k words, it ended up being 4,5k. Take care!

#Justice for Joost

...7 Missed Calls from ‘Millie’

Your best friend and roommate had left you hanging for a one-night stand, to put it shortly.

Tonight was Joost Klein’s concert in your area and you had bought these tickets ages ago. Both you and your roomie were huge fans of his music and planned on having the most amazing time ever. That was until she texted you, a few minutes after the time you had planned to meet at.

‘Hey dude, im soooo sorry, but I just met this really amazing dude at the library and I really wanna take him home ymwim?? I hope you still have an amazing time, byeeee!’

Saying you were angry was a brutal understatement. Absolutely fuming fit better. But nevertheless, you had so much fun at the concert. You didn’t need Millie to have a good time, you hope he at least fucked her well if she’s going to miss a Joost Klein concert for that. But this isn’t about Millie, this is about you jumping around all night and screaming your heart out.

All good things must come to an end and so did the concert. Joost thanked the crowd dearly and seemed really happy with the performance. Now that you had gathered your stuff, you pulled out your phone and prepared to walk to the bus station. Should be a 23-minute walk. An interesting insta reel popped up on your phone, your eyes were practically glued to the screen. That was until you inelegantly collided with someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” You had your phone in a death grip, it had almost dropped to the floor. “My bad, I didn’t look where I was going!” Then you were greeted with the sight of a messy bleach blonde head of hair and two bright, blue eyes. This was Joost Klein himself. +A shy smile crept onto your face; you didn’t know what else to say. “Yeah, I’d be shocked too if I was standing in front of a celebrity.”, his attitude seemed cocky, but in a playful way. He was beaming, his grin as bright as the moon. Without thinking much, you opened your mouth to speak: “haha, exactly.” The sarcasm was dripping from your voice. “You seem happy, the concert went really well.”, you offered him a genuine smile. “Yes! I loved the crowd.”, his eyes lit up, “the numbers could be better though, at least my manager says so. But that’s just how the art industry is.” He kept rambling to you like he already knew you for ages. “Sorry, you probably don’t care. Oh yeah, and I forgot to ask for your name.” Joost lazily smiled at you. “I’m Y/n. I totally get that thing about the numbers. It’s difficult when you’re doing art as a job.” His gaze softened slightly. “It’s hard bringing in new fans when there are new artists every day. There’s always a younger, more talented artist out there.” His smile turned into a rather sad one, maybe he wasn’t so happy after all? “But I think you got something special going. Something different than those soundcloud rappers, you know?”, you chuckled lightly, “I think your music is true art.” For a moment he seemed to taste your words on his tongue. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a while. “You seem like you do art too?”, Joost raised an eyebrow in genuine curiosity. “Yeah, I’m not that relevant though.” An awkward feeling crept over you; you scratched the back of your neck. “Ah, I don’t wanna hear it.” He barely let you finish your sentence. “I bet your really talented. I mean just your vibe right now!” Joost was now standing pretty close to you. He tended to close the distance between him and the person he’s talking to. Personal space is not in his vocabulary.

A quick glance to your phone screen revealed that your bus was about to leave in three minutes. Doesn’t matter, you’re striking up a good conversation with one of your favorite singers right now. “That’s so nice of you. People rumor that you’re kinda rude, but I haven’t seen any of that yet.” The left corner of his lips curled up, that was probably not the first time he heard about that rumor. “That’s because a lot of people who meet me say the dumbest things I’ve ever heard and then get mad when I don’t answer nicely.” He then intently looked at your eyes. “But you haven’t said anything bad yet.” Now he was smiling brightly again. “Hmm, so I gotta try harder to get on your bad side huh?”, he chuckled heartily. “You’re chill. I like you, I don’t get that with most people I meet.” He for sure is a big personality. “Oh my god, you should totally get your nose pierced. Would suit your look!” Admittedly, you have been thinking about getting a septum for a while now. But until shortly ago, you were working an excruciating office job, where piercings, colorful hair, gel nails and tattoos were strictly forbidden. That didn’t stop you from getting inked though. You waited to do your arms until you quit your job, but otherwise your whole body was littered with small and relatively big tattoos.

“I already got a few tattoos though; I worked an office job until recently. Getting a new piercing would’ve been difficult to hide.” Joost curiously eyed you, in search of any tattoos that might be exposed at the moment. “What kind of tattoos do you have then?”, he caught a glimpse of some ink under your shirt. “Loads actually. But my first one was a moth under my chest, I really like that one.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah? Let me see.” You could see right through him but decided to entertain his idea for a minute. Pulling down the hem of your loose button up, whose top few buttons were undone, you revealed a small part of the moth’s wings and head. With a gentle grin you declared that he would have to pay to see more. His smile now turned into a light smirk. “How much would I need to pay to see the rest?” Quickly, you quipped back: “How much does a drink in this town cost?” He now inches slightly away from you, he was all up in your space until now. “A drink, huh?”, he mused, “I’ll buy you the whole damn bottle.”

Joost guided you to one of his favorite bars in the area. His hand was on the small of your back when you two enterer the establishment, which seemed slightly out-of-place for a first meeting. “You know, I’ve never paid so much to see a tattoo before.” He teased while he ordered a bottle of vodka and two glasses. You really hope he wasn’t a creep, cuz this seemed like a red flag. “I must be pretty special then”, you grinned while ogling the clear liquid. The blond was now swirling the vodka in his glass. He chuckled, “Yeah I’d say you’re pretty special.” Then he avoided your gaze. He was wondering how the rest of that tattoo looked like. And maybe it wasn’t the only thing he’d get to see tonight.

The swig you took from your glass made you grimace. Vodka was one of your top alcohols, but you had to be honest with yourself and admit it tastes like hand sanitizer. “Don’t tell me it’s too strong for you.”, he teasingly smiled at you. His blue eyes darted towards your hand, which was resting atop the wooden bar. In a smooth motion, he interlinked his pinky with yours. ‘Drink je moed met alcohol’ or whatever the saying is. Nevertheless, Joost felt more forward now. Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled. But the alcohol for sure gave him an extra bravado. He carefully inched closer to you. You could tell he was getting a bit woozy, even if he was lazily smiling at you. “You ok?”, a small chuckle escaped you. He intertwined his hand fully with yours now. The look in his face was soft and affectionate. A bit wobbly, but very sweet. You got a bit closer; the tips of your noses were almost touching. Only a few centimeters apart. Joost kept his eyes fixated on you, his breath hitched. His ice blue eyes seemed to roam you whole face. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, the proximity was intoxicating to him. Joost’s eyes fluttered shut and you waited for a few seconds, messing with the dutchman in front of you. His eyes opened again and saw you grinning teasingly at him. “Really? We’re doing this now?” A hint of disappointment flashed across his face for a split second, but soon after mischievousness played in his eyes.

The two of you seemed to be getting along well, chatting and laughing with each other which felt like hours on end. Your knee was now touching Joosts and his hand has landed on your thigh. He slightly squeezed it, trying to give you a signal of what he wanted. “What?”, you grinned knowingly. The blond playfully huffed but the smile on his face remained. “You know what.” He tried to play it cool, but the intent look in your dark eyes made his adrenaline levels shoot through the roof. Sneakily, you slid a hand behind Joost’s neck. “I’m usually not into blondes.” With that you caught his lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. The man practically melted into your touch, he held onto your shoulder as if he’d fall off the barstool if he didn’t. Maybe it was the alcohol or the massive interest he had for you, but Joost was kissing you fervently. A desperate noise escaped him. One of your hands rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating rapidly. As you parted lips, Joost tried to calm his erratic heart. Suddenly feeling a bit shy, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. His cologne smelled amazing, even after messing around on stage the whole evening. The huffs of your hot breath sent shivers down his spine. He gently kissed your neck, you gasped and flushed ever so slightly. The bastard even slid a hand under your shirt, feeling your lower back. You let the hand on his chest wander a bit, earning a content gasp. “I’m loving this, but can we go somewhere more… private?” Joost let out a small laugh. “Yeah of course! My place or yours?”, he grinned at you. “My roommate is probably getting laid right now, so could we go to your place?”, he nodded with a sweet, drunken smile. “I’d love to take you to mine. It’s just a few minutes away from here actually.”

Either he was very bad at math, drunk or both at the same time. The apartment building was at least a 18-minute walk outside the city center. The breeze messing with your hair was fresh, a shiver ran down your spine. Joost risked a glance over at you from time to time, his stomach was churning with an excited flutter. Even though your gaze was directed straight ahead, you noticed the blond eyeing you. The faintest shade of rose feathered your cheeks, you bit the inside of your lip from nervousness. That didn’t go unnoticed, as Joost laughed brightly while pulling you into a side hug, still keeping up the pace. “You’re so flustered.”, he chuckled. Playfully, you slapped his arm. “Quit it.”, his smile widened and for a moment it seemed as if the sun was shining. “Try and make me.”, now his expression turned devious. “I’ll make you regret being this cocky.”, a pleased smile spread across your face. He wanted to provoke you a tiny bit more. “I’d love to see you try.” He brought you both to a halt in front of a building and opened the door. Joost looked at you and brought a hand to the small of your back. “Let’s get inside.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you up the staircase to the door of his apartment. His hands were slightly shaky from anticipation and the keys in his hand rattled and clinked.

After a few seconds he had finally unlocked the door and led you in, he didn’t bother to flick the light on. You turned around, faced with Joost’s back, a click indicated that he had closed the door. You slide your arms around his torso and press up against him. His breath hitched as you began trailing sweet kisses down his jaw and neck. Joost, now reddened and smiling lazily, turned around and slid his hands down to hold your hips. His scent was fogging up your mind, and you couldn’t help but be excited. Once again, you pecked his neck, occasionally nipping at the skin. To give you more room, he tilted his head ever so slightly. A content huff escaped him as you bit down harder, now having found his sweet spot. “Not so cocky now, huh?”, you chuckled before continuing your shenanigans. Joost let his head rest against the wall behind him and let out a small needy sound. He placed a hand on your shoulder, to steady himself. His breath was rugged, and his skin felt as if it was on fire. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”, he whispered before letting his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder. When releasing your hold on him, you were greeted by two dilated eyes. “Let me be good to you.”, his voice was breathy, and his hair was messed up. “Let me take charge for a bit.”, he pressed the sweetest kiss to your lips. You quietly hummed as he began nipping at your neck, but before you could enjoy it more, he gently pulled you towards, presumably, his bedroom.

He gently pushed you onto his bed, you gladly let yourself fall backwards. “There we go.”, he murmured as he glanced down at you, splayed out. A possessive glint played in his eyes. With a tilt of your head, you invited him. You wouldn’t have to ask him twice, he quickly got on the bed with you. In a swift motion, he straddled you and placed his hand on your chest. You slide your hands up his legs and let them rest on his hips. Joost softly moans into the sweet kiss he embraced you in. He enjoys the heat and friction from his body being pressed down on top of you. His lips taste like cherry bubblegum from the local kiosk, you deepen the kiss as the blond grasps your shoulders. Carefully, you broke the kiss and tugged on his shirt. “Get rid of that. “, you groaned at the hot feeling spreading over your skin. His gaze darkened at the command, and he slowly leaned back. He lifted the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, then tossed it away. A cheeky grin was now plastered onto his face, you slid your hands up his body, feeling his abs. “Thank you.”, he laid his hand atop yours, which was still resting on his body. “But you’re pretty hot too.” Now his hands slid under your shirt. “How about you take yours off as well? I need to see more of you.”, a small hum erupted from your throat, and you began peeling your shirt off. “You really wanna see that tattoo, huh?”, he nodded with a small smile. The fabric hiding the big moth was now gone and revealed its true beauty. It was a deaths-head hawkmoth, its wings were detailed and shaded amazingly, he could tell that your tattoo artist was a master of his craft. Joost’s eyes widened for a split second as soon as he saw how many tattoos were littered over your torso. He didn’t expect that many, but oh god they looked good on you. “You have no idea how good you look with all this ink.”, he ran a hand down your arm, feeling its muscles and gently rubbing the skin. “Really?”, you tried smiling innocently, but it came out looking more like a cheeky grin. “Makes me want you so bad.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the weak light of the moon made his blond hair look silvery. You delicately whispered back. “You can have me.”

Now he felt the heat rise inside him. His lips ghosted over yours, meanwhile he was fiddling with the stall of your pants. With a sense of confidence, he bit your lower lip, not enough to hurt you, but enough to show you that he was in charge now.

Once again, he nipped at your neck, but traveled down to your collarbone, your chest, your stomach and finally to the hem of your pants. Your head was tipped back in pleasure and the occasional groan left you. What you couldn’t see was him smiling up at you, enjoying the view. The soft moonlight painted milky stripes along your muscles. Joost planted a kiss on your hip before leaving bites around the waistband of your pants. He had already opened the button and zipper of your garment and now he pulled them off, tossing them aside. With the gentlest hands he caressed your thigh. A gaze to your thigh revealed even more tattoos, an elegant snake was swirled around your leg, entangled with the leaves of an olive tree. The dutch grinned slightly, then began leaving kisses and sweet bites over your thighs, he was burning up now. His hand slid upward on your thigh, though this time he was messing with the fabric of your briefs. He only chuckled lightly, before biting down harder. A soft whine escaped you, while he slowly pulled your boxers off. Then he sat back, waiting for a reaction. “Don’t tease, I’ll make you regret it.”, your threat sounded more playful than anything. He offered you a small, challenging grin as his fingers slid back up to your hips, where he let them rest. “Yeah exactly, what are you gonna do?” You groaned. “Keep going if you wanna find out.”

He leaned down and trailed kisses over your inner thigh, his hands roamed over your body, slowly making their way towards your crotch. Brushing over the tip of your length, he hummed in contentment. Your eyes fluttered shut, you couldn’t help but twitch at the contact. He rubbed his thumb over the slit, licked his lips, then wrapped his fingers around your length. His soft hands felt like heaven to you, his motions steady and gentle. Occasionally +he teased your tip with his thumb, enjoying your expressions. “Bet you rail some guy after all your concerts.”, a teasing smile appeared on your lips. “You’d be correct to think so, yeah.”, he hummed with a sly grin. He stroked you at a slow but firm pace. “Are you trying to rile me up with that?”, he then mused a chuckle. Despite your currently… pathetic state, you mustered to spit out: “I’d never. Just making sure you’ll remember me very time from now on.” He sped up a little. “Oh trust me, I’ won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.” Leaning in, he took the tip into his mouth. “Fu-uck”, you stammered. The warm, wet feeling of his mouth could’ve made you cum right then and there. One of your hands reached down to entangle itself into Joost’s blond strands. The mans breath hitched as he felt your hand in his hair, it sent tingles down his spine. He swirled his tongue around your tip, sucking gently while looking up at you. His hands held your hips firmly in place. “Didn’t know your mouth was good at anything other than singing.” Joost’s eyes crinkled at your comment. With a quiet ‘plop’ sound, he released your member. “I can promise you, it’s good at other things.” He muttered before tending to your length again, this time maintaining eye contact with you. The sight alone almost tipped you over the edge, his icy blue eyes were glossy, and his blond lashes framed them perfectly. Joost’s eyes flickered down, he noticed how you started to twitch lightly. He took you in deeper, focusing on the sensation in his mouth. The way his tongue swirled on the underside of your shaft made your vision go blurry, you felt a feeling tightening and coiling in your stomach. “I’m so close.”, you whispered desperately. Little did you know that he had other plans. Once again, he removed himself from your pulsing member, a string of saliva connecting to his lip. You ran a hand trough your hair, while your chest was sinking and rising with heavy breaths. Joost backed up slightly, removing any remaining clothes, then focusing on your figure again. He gently straddled you, his own length rubbing against yours, not without a sharp hiss from you though. “Hop on, let me treat you right.”, your muscles tensed from anticipation. A low groan escaped the blond, he nodded quickly before sitting up. With utmost care, he positioned himself and slowly sat down as he felt you push inside of him. He gasped at the overwhelming feeling, and you rested your head against the pillows, it was too much and not enough at the same time. Gently, he started slowly rocking his hips against yours, he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his soft moans. Feeling a bit revengeful, you bucked upwards, earning a loud gasp from the other man. A loud moan escaped him, and his body shuddered and tingled, he slightly sped up his rocking. Your warm hands trailed up to his hips, helping him steady his movement. Empty threats were never something you made, so you decided to go all out. In a swift motion you had basically thrown Joost off and positioned yourself over him, prodding at his entrance with your dick. He groaned and gasped at the sudden manhandling; a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. “That’s for teasing me.” He wrapped his legs around your waist, while letting out a breathless moan.  Without much care, you pushed into him, setting a relatively fast pace. The dutch groaned at the rough treatment and you felt him dig his nails into your back and leave long scratches along it. “You’re so g-ood.”, his voice broke slightly, he was panting heavily. “I said I’d make you remember me.” Even in this pathetic state, he chuckled.

With his arms slung around your shoulder, he cried out in pleasure, small pearly tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck. I will.”, his eyes were glossy. Once again, he bit down on your neck, leaving yet another dark hickey. Bitten off moans slipped out of him; he was pretty sure both of your hips would be bruised after this night. The room was filled with breathy moans and gasps, along with the constant sound of skin slapping against skin. Joost was completely lost in the moment, he loved how you took control. “See who’s not being so cocky anymore?”, you teased. “Shush.” His head lolled back in pleasure. You snuck a hand around his throat, threatingly gripping it with very little pressure. “You’re not the one giving orders.” A shiver of excitement ran trough Joost’s veins, he ever so slightly arched his back, pressing his body closer to yours. “Now shut up and take it.”, your hips snapped against Joost’s, and his groans became even weaker. The pleasure was building up in his stomach, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle it. His vision went blurry, and his body tensed up, his nails dug deep into your skin, leaving bloody scratched all over your back. “Fuuuuuuck”, he moaned against your collarbone. Warm, milky white cum shot out of his length, all over his stomach and chest, you yourself quickly pulled out and dropped the load on top of his. “Messy Boy.”, you whispered.

He laid there for a few minutes, panting heavily and feeling utterly spent. You grabbed a random t shirt on the bed and wiped him clean. With a good wash it’ll be as good as new, you thought. Gentle to not disturb him too much, you laid on top of him, resting your head against his chest. He let out a small huff, then wrapped his arms around you. “I’m going to feel this all day tomorrow…”, he mumbled. “Then I did it right.”, you closed your eyes, enjoying his warm breath trickling down your face and neck. Joost hadn’t seen the tattoo on your back before but was admiring it now. It was another snake, wrapping around a big dagger with various decorations on it. He ran a hand over it, feeling the skin he had scratched open around it. “So, you like it een beetje ruw?”, he whispered. “Ja but I can be sweet too.” Joost chuckled. You looked up again, enveloping him in a genuine, gentle kiss. Brushing a stray hair away, you caressed his cheek. The blond hummed lightly, his heart fluttering at the tender kiss. His lips curled up into a sweet smile. “Just for some people though.”, you grinned cheekily.

After having thrown on your briefs, you had retrieved your pants and began rummaging the pockets. “Can we go out to the balcony? I’d like to have a smoke.” Joost raised an eyebrow while his smile revealed his dimples. “Cigs after a good lay, huh?”, he began to fumble around in his bedside drawer, trying to find his own pack. “They’re on me, owe you after that.”, you giggled. Joost opened the slide door and led you outside. The atmosphere was calm, the two of you sat down on the floor. You held out your pack to the man, before taking a cigarette for yourself. He put it between his lips, waiting for you to light it. His eyes watched your face closely. After having his cigarette lit, Joost leaned against the balcony railing, enjoying the fresh breeze. You looked over the city while the smoke mingled as they both exhaled. Joost reached out and tangled his hand with yours. “You’re so pretty.”, you mumbled absently, watching a few blonde hairs follow the flow of the wind, his hair was all messed up, but he looked perfect. The tips of his hair looked almost white in the moonlight. “I’m usually not into blondes.”, you ruffled up his hair. “Hey!”, he cried out, but he quickly reached for your hair in an attempt at revenge. You gladly lowered your head, letting him do whatever he wants. Instead of messing up your whole hair, like you though he would, he gently combed trough it with his fingers. It felt soothing, you leaned into his touch and ended up flopping your upper body down into his lap. He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Comfy?”

A pleased hum escaped you, moments like these should last forever.

#justice for joost #welcome to zyons rubber room #male reader #reader insert #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost #joost x reader #joost klein x male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male!reader #male x male #gay

[astralis-ortus]

against the world

✱ boyfriend!bc × fem!reader

— for as long as i love you.

w.count → 2k genre → angst, fluff, a dash of comedy warnings → reader mocked by a character, self deprecating thought a.n → based on this request! took me a while to figure how to write because brain did not want to work together with the pictures i had in mind but we're here! it's a fun one to work on (despite the angst)(i actually love the angst) and i hope it's up to your expectation!<3

the bus ride felt like forever.

honestly, you weren’t even sure why you ended up arguing with chan in the first place. hell, you couldn’t even remember what even really irked you about his response. all you remembered was about feeling upset and ended up lashing out at chan to the point where he decided to head back to his studio despite just coming back the hour prior, just so he doesn’t say anything he might regret.

when he still hadn’t returned hours later, however, guilt started to dig its sharp nails into your sore heart.

you knew you had to let him cool his head—you understand that, but you can’t sit still knowing he’d likely lock himself in and drown himself in work. you can’t, especially when you knew for a fact he hadn’t got anything to eat since you two were planning to go on a date had the argument never happened. he hasn’t been on top of his condition as is, and you won’t be able to forgive yourself if this whole absolute ridicule of a situation you caused made him fall sick.

hence, after your nth call went straight to his voicemail, you know there’s only one thing left you could do—go to his studio and apologize.

“thank you,” you offered a smile at the familiar security guard, bowing your head enough as you entered through the trainee and artist entrance of the building. usually, either you or chan would offer him a snack or coffee whenever you got there together, but with all the chaos happening inside your head, all you could remember to grab was the light meal you had hurriedly prepared for chan as an apology.

“bang chan is still in his studio,” the security guard quietly informed with a knowing smile, abruptly stopping you in your track with your eyes wide at him, “most of the staff, trainee, and artist have left for the day, but you could let me know if you need access to the rooftop. the weather is good enough for you to talk there.”

you blinked at his offer, a little stunned at the conclusion he took just by looking at you. is it that obvious…?

“it’s going to be okay; fights are bound to happen between couples,” he continued lightly with a tender smile, as if reading the thoughts passing your mind, “as long as you love and care about each other, there’s nothing you two can’t handle. don’t worry.”

choking up a breath, you hurriedly thanked the security guard and walked past the familiar hallways leading to your boyfriend’s studio. tears were pooling dangerously in your eyes, threatening its way out as you replayed the passing advice in your head. he’s right—as long as you love and care about each, there’s—

“hey! you! stop right there!”

the loud echoing voice snapped you out of your thoughts, again halting your steps before you reached your destination. despite your racing heartbeat at the sudden loudness, you try your best to seek for the other soul around—leading your eyes to land at a female figure at the end of the hallway.

“oh,” you immediately bowed your head as soon as you noticed the identity of the staff rushed towards you—one you recognize as a part of division 2, according to an exchange she had with chan a few months prior during one of your visits. “hello, i just—”

“who are you? how do you get in here?” the sharpness in her voice made you wince; startled and confused. you’re certain she’s aware of your presence before—distinctly remembering how chan awkwardly introduced you as to her own request, understandably wary of an unfamiliar face lurking around a private section of the company.

“right,” you shook your head, ridding your mind off of the uneasiness you picked up, “sorry, you probably don’t remember. i’m chan’s girlfriend. we met a couple months ago? i remember chan introdu—”

“girlfriend?” she scoffed, not even letting you finish your sentence. the way she shut you off left a sharp sting in your heart, but even that wouldn’t compare to the way her icy gaze pierced right through you—pricking and prodding every inch of your appearance, finalized with a condescending snicker.

“another crazy fan, huh?”

you felt your heart sink at the accusation. dating chan, you knew it would come with the bad alongside the good. you understood that, and you knew better than anyone to focus on the flowers and butterflies chan made your everyday look like while paying zero attention to the odd snarky remarks here and there. though it sure has been quite some time since the last time someone accused you of being delusional, but to be completely honest with yourself, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

fingers tighten around the strap of chan’s meal bag on your hand, you try hard not to let yourself crumble as you attempted to defend yourself, “no, i’m not—”

“besides,” cutting you short, she took a step closer and shoved her fingers on your shoulder, “you need to wake up. why would chan even date someone like you?”

you know you’re not perfect. you know that despite the amount of love you have for chan, there’s no promise of a perfect future between the two of you. you know that there’s a possibility of a life where you have to live without chan, and the blame will most likely be on you—because you’re not pretty enough. you’re not talented enough. you’re not someone of a similar background. you’re not even anywhere close to being on chan’s level, and it’s all because you’re you.

“seriously, get a grip,” she hissed, digging her fingers onto the bone of your shoulder while you desperately bit your lip, trying to contain the tears threatening to fall. “you’re just some lowly, delusional fan. don’t even—”

“don’t even what, noona?”

both you and the staff immediately snapped your eyes towards the figure behind her; heavy, firm steps towards you with his jaw tense and a silent rage burning in his eyes. she immediately scrambled away from you, hiding her hands—ones nearly pushing you to an endless canyon of despair.

you’ve never seen chan that angry.

“i-i just—”

“she’s my girlfriend,” chan emphasized through gritted teeth, taking your freezing hand in his trembling one, “and you do not talk to my woman like that.”

“i was just looking out for you!” she attempted to defend herself, fear present in her eyes as she attempted to look straight into chan’s eyes. “you know how crazy these sasaengs have been these days! i just—”

“stop!”

your body involuntarily jumped at the sudden raise in his voice, eyes wide as you looked at him in surprise. his face was red—but even from your point of view, you could see he was hurt.

“no one gave you the right to talk to my people like that,” chan towered against her as he makes himself clear, "especially towards my woman. you don’t—”

“channie,”

your voice was soft, but it was enough to quiet down the anger burning inside chan. yes—his priority is to keep you safe.

shifting his attention entirely towards you, chan felt his heart drop—your eyes were red, trails of tears apparent down your cheeks. your fingers were ice cold against his burning skin, and the way he felt your body tremble broke his heart.

“baby,” chan cracked a weak smile, trying to ease the tension on you as he ran his palms against your arm, “are you okay? need me to carry you?”

you quickly shook your head, sniffles escaping past your lips as your nerves slowly calmed down. you’re just so, so tired—and all you need is chan.

“let’s head to my studio, okay?” his voice was soft, arms wrapped around your frail figure as he leads you down the empty hallway, leaving the still stunned staff behind. he’ll deal with that tomorrow; because now, your well-being mattered most to him.

as soon as you got to chan’s studio, he immediately locked the familiar green room and covered you up with a blanket—ones he kept especially for you, keeping you warm as he quietly cuddled you on the small couch. your faint sniffles turned into sobs, and as the sense of safety finally settled in your bones, you finally let yourself cry into chan’s arms.

chan simply stayed silent; warmth of his arms surrounds you whilst he lets you pour your feelings out.

he heard almost everything the staff had said to you, and he’s mad at himself for not being able to protect you from those words. he should’ve been there with you, keeping you safe from the unnecessary hate just because you’re his girlfriend. he should’ve stayed with you instead of running away. he should’ve—

“i’m sorry for lashing out on you,” you clutched onto his hoodie, voice coming out weak as you try to regulate your breathing. “i didn’t know why i was so upset. i shouldn’t have done that to you. i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry too, baby,” he pulled you closer into his arms, letting you nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “i shouldn’t have left you home alone, let alone for hours. i just—i could’ve handled it better. i’m sorry.”

a hum escaped your lips along with a soft shake of your head, showing your disapproval to his apology. “no, channie. i understand why you feel like you need to leave to clear your head. just… i’m worried because you didn’t answer my calls, and i know you hadn’t eaten anything today, so—”

“wait,” chan gently pulled away and looked at your flushed face, light trace of his fingers fixing the stray strands off your features, “you called? i didn’t hear my phone ring—or buzz, as a matter of fact. when did you call?”

“last was an hour ago, i think?” you leaned onto chan’s warm touch. “i don’t know. i was hurrying—ah,” eyes suddenly wide, you prodded your finger at the bag chan had set aside on his desk earlier, “i brought you some sandwich to eat. it’s not much, but you need to eat, channie.”

chan was stunned—he felt warm.

he’s used to being left alone to sort his feelings. he’s used to being treated as if his emotions were worth nothing, and he only mattered if he did something for others. chan is used to feeling invisible—but with you, he felt seen. not because of what he’s trying to prove, but because of the simple fact that he’s… him.

clearing his throat, chan immediately flashes a smile at you. “let’s eat first, yeah?” he hummed, voice noticeably lighter as he gently moved you off his lap and grabbed the little bag. “you should eat too. you spent a lot of energy crying.”

“but—”

“no buts,” he playfully glared at you, lips pursed in protest, “you came all the way here for me, it’s only fair i share my food with you.”

“after this,” finally unpacking the sandwich and handing you his other half, “we’ll order something else and some ice cream while i play you some of the songs i was working on. sounds good?”

the way your face lit up was enough of an answer for chan—your excited nods were merely a confirmation.

“alright, alright,” he chuckled, fighting off the urge to pull you back into his arms. instead, chan fished for the phone in his pocket and handed it to you. “your pick, baby.”

“yes! i’m—wait,” pressing on the power button, you blinked upon realizing how the screen remained unchanged despite your attempts. “did you forgot to charge your phone, channie?”

Chan grimaced. You could see how he’s slowly tracing his steps throughout the day—until a split second of realization flashed past his eyes. His lips turned into a little grin; one he always wears when he realizes he did something wrong.

“…did i?”

You’re out of words.

“channie!”

“hahah—i’m sorry!”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

#stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan angst #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #stray kids au #skz au #bang chan au #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #bang chan x you #stray kids #skz #bang chan #isa's fics

[pinkflower2003]

You are actually so talented. I’m addicted to reading your stuff. If you what to write a slightly more angsty one maybe could be a pt.2 to one of the pregnancy ones that Y/N has the baby and then starts struggling with postnatal anxiety and just can’t keep her eyes of the baby so driver comforts her and helps her even though she’s being a stubborn first time mum 😅

Baby Blues

Charles Leclerc x Reader

a/n: thank you so much that is the sweetest thing ever, you guys literally make me wanna cry omg🥹 i hope this is okay! thank you so much for your submission<3

The soft glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light on the nursery. You sat in the rocking chair, cradling your newborn daughter in your arms. The room was quiet, save for the gentle creaking of the chair and the occasional coo from the baby. Despite the serenity, a storm of anxiety churned within you.

As a first-time mother, the overwhelming love you felt for your daughter was matched by an equally overwhelming sense of fear. What if something went wrong? What if you weren’t enough? You couldn’t keep your eyes off her, afraid that if you looked away for even a second, something terrible might happen.

Charles Leclerc, your partner and the love of your life, had been nothing but supportive since the birth. But as days turned into weeks, he noticed the change in you. The way you barely slept, constantly checking on the baby, the way your hands trembled whenever you weren’t holding her.

One afternoon, Charles found you in the nursery again, your eyes fixed on the sleeping baby. He approached quietly, his heart aching at the sight of your exhaustion.

"Y/N," he said softly, kneeling beside you. "You need to rest."

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t, Charles. What if something happens?"

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "Nothing will happen. She’s safe. You need to take care of yourself too."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the worry and fear evident in your expression. "I’m scared, Charles. What if I’m not doing this right?"

Charles cupped your face in his hands, his gaze steady and reassuring. "You’re doing an amazing job. You’re the best mother our daughter could ever have. But you don’t have to do this alone. Let me help you."

You wanted to believe him, but the anxiety was a relentless force. "I just…I can’t stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong."

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his touch soothing. "I know it’s hard. But we’re in this together."

Charles took the baby from your arms, cradling her with practiced ease. "Why don’t you lie down for a bit? I’ll watch her."

You hesitated, your eyes lingering on your daughter. "What if she needs me?"

"I’ll be right here," Charles assured you. "And if she needs anything, I’ll wake you up. I promise."

Reluctantly, you agreed, allowing Charles to guide you to the bedroom. As you lay down, he sat beside you, holding your hand. "Close your eyes, amour. Just rest for a little while."

For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax, Charles’s presence a comforting anchor. Gradually, exhaustion took over, and you drifted into a restless sleep.

When you awoke, the room was dim, and you could hear the soft murmur of Charles’s voice from the nursery. You got up quietly and peeked through the door. Charles was sitting in the rocking chair, the baby cradled against his chest as he hummed a gentle tune.

He looked up and saw you, a tender smile spreading across his face. "Hey, you’re awake. How do you feel?"

You walked in, feeling a bit more rested but still anxious. "Better, I think."

Charles stood up, walking over to you with the baby. "She’s been fine. You’ve been fine. And you will be fine. But you need to take it one day at a time."

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Charles. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

He kissed your forehead, his touch filled with love and reassurance. "You’ll never have to find out. We’re a team, remember? We’ll get through this together."

From that moment, things started to change. It wasn’t easy, and there were still days when the anxiety threatened to overwhelm you. But with Charles by your side, you found the strength to face it. He was there for the late-night feedings, the endless diaper changes, and the moments when you felt like you couldn’t go on.

And slowly, you began to trust in yourself as a mother. You started to believe that you were enough, that you could keep your daughter safe and happy. And through it all, Charles was your rock, your constant source of comfort and support.

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #baby imagine

[w2soneshots]

Dad mode -W2S

Words: 0.9k+

Warnings: none.

In which Harry takes care of your baby while you’re away.

a/n: hello lovelies!! Please send it more requests! My baby fever is officially back😚. I hope you enjoy this dad!bog fic🧸💓

Today I'm leaving my baby girl Millie for the first time. She just turned three months old. It's been amazing so far. Me and Harry love her with every ounce of our being. I was a little bit apprehensive about leaving her but it's only going to be for twenty four hours and I know I can trust Harry.

I packed an overnight bag then left the apartment at 7am. Unfortunately I didn't get to say goodbye to Millie since she was still asleep. I did say a quick bye to Harry though and he could tell I was nervous so he reassured me that everything would be fine and that he would send me regular updates. Which calmed me. Harry's looked after the baby for a few hours but never overnight.

Harry's pov:

I fell back asleep after y/n left. Then just half an hour later I woke to the sound of Millie crying. I quickly slid out of bed then grabbed her from the small bassinet that sat in the corner off our room. "Shh, I've got ya." I whispered as I picked her up and held her close. I changed her nappy then made her a bottle. "There we go." She sat on my lap and peacefully drank her milk.

After quickly eating my own breakfast I got dressed. Then I picked out an outfit for Millie. I put her in a light pink long sleeved onesie with some denim overalls over the top. It was actually an outfit y/n had put her in a few weeks ago so I knew she looked ok. I grabbed her nappy bag from her nursery (that she hasn't actually slept in yet) along with the buggy. Once I was ready to leave I sent y/n a text that read "she's had her bottle and she's in a good mood. I'm gonna take her on a walk. Love you x" she replied almost immediately. "I knew you'd be fine. Love you xx"

Once I got Millie into her buggy we left. I walked just over fifteen minutes until I was stopped by a young girl. "Excuse me, are you Wroetoshaw?" She asked. I nodded. "Could I please get a picture?" "Yea, sure." I took a quick pic then she turned her attention to Millie, who was sound asleep. "Thank you. Your babies really cute." And with that she happily walked away.

Ten minutes later I was outside the tall building where we film more sidemen and everything for side plus. I checked in at the front desk then pushed the buggy into lift. "Ey! Bog!" Ethan shouted once I was inside. "Hey." I replied. JJ rushed over. "You brought Millie!" He excitedly looked into the pram. "Yea y/n's on a work trip so I'm looking after her today. Thought I'd come and say hi." On the way up she'd woken up so I pulled her from the pram and gave her to JJ. He has really taken to being an uncle. I didn't know he liked kids that much but he turns into a marshmallow when he's around her and Olive.

Tobi also came to say hello. "I swear she's grown twice the size since I last saw her!" Tobi commented as he held her. "Yea! She's growing up to fast." JJ added. She always gets a massive fuss made over her when she's around the boys and she loves it. After a little while I left the boys to film and headed back home.

Once I got home I sat with Millie while I watched the most recent Chelsea match. We both had some lunch then I got a phone call from y/n. "Hey." I answered putting it on speaker. While she told me about her day I gently rocked Millie. "So how's it going? Did you take her to see the boys?" She asked, since I'd told her yesterday that I planned to visit them. "Yea, they made a fuss as usual." I replied. She giggled.

When 6pm rolled around it was time to put Millie to sleep. I slowly placed her into the cot but she immediately began screaming. My eyes widened. "Okey-dokey." I sighed as I picked her up again. y/n was usually the one to put the baby to sleep and I do the morning shift so I hadn't had much practice. "Shh shh." I rocked her. She continued to cry. "For fudge sake." We decided that we should try our best not to swear around the baby so we say, sugar, shoot and other random words instead.

I grabbed the tv control from y/n's side of the bed then clicked onto youtube. I selected 'night changes' by one direction. Since it seems to be one of the only things that calms her down. And it's ironic since that's actually the song that was playing when she popped out into the world. She slowly stopped crying until it was just a small sniffle. "There we go. No need to be  so upset you donut." I whispered as she drifted off to sleep. I held her for a few more minutes until I placed her into the cot. Thankfully she stayed asleep. I grabbed the baby monitor from the side then crept back into the lounge.

The next morning I woke to the smell of bacon. I jumped out of bed to follow the smell. y/n stood in the kitchen, Millie on her hip, hair in a messy bun and a slight bounce in her step as she hummed quietly. "She looks beautiful." I thought as I lent against the door frame. "Morning." I smiled as I walked towards her. She jumped slightly. "Sugar! You scared me." I laughed. Then pecked her on the lips.

#w2s #harry lewis #harry w2s #wrotoshaw #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw oneshot #harry lewis x reader #harry x reader #youtuber x reader #sidemen x reader #british youtubers #fanfic #image #oneshot #x fem!reader #x y/n #x you #x reader #dad!harry

[contentloadingandstuff]

Nilou x Veteran!Warrior!Male!Reader

A/N: Here's something light and hopefully fun to read. Enjoy! CW: None.

When Nilou’s fans come up to her for autographs, they can’t help but cast worried glances at the man next to her. Despite officially being only a bodyguard, the warm smiles and kind looks you exchange with each other have made your love obvious to the people of Sumeru. Nobody mentions it in her, let alone your presence though - they know you’re not someone to be messed with. 

Nobody really knows where you fought, but your more-than-professional demeanor, your grizzled eyes, speaking of experience, make it more than obvious that you’ve seen your share. Your handling of weapons makes you a commanding presence - you hardly ever have to speak to make sure Nilou has as much space as she needs to feel comfortable. 

For your adorable lover, however, your presence is quite the opposite - you’re a guarantee of comfort and safety, and such a cute one at that! She finds it positively heartwarming how you compare to her. You’re a big, strong and scary guy while she’s a tiny and innocent girl. 

Nilou: Hey sweetie, can you… pick me up, please? Y/N: Hm? Oh, of course.  Nilou: W-whoah! Hehe~ It’s like in those fairytales, isn’t it?

You’re her knight in shining armor, and she’s your princess in need of keeping safe and sound. It always gets her heart racing when you remind her just how fragile and gentle she is - as a flower, needing strong hands to protect her from the cold winds. 

Speaking of digits, she really enjoys holding hands with you. Your hands, just like your whole person, are the precise opposites of her. They are big, rough, full of little scratches, scars and other wear-and-tear from your days of campaigns and fighting. They were and still are capable of feats of great strength and violence - she saw how tightly you grip the sword, just as she saw your enemies staggering under your blows. And yet, despite that, you are as gentle with her as can be when you stroke her hair or touch her cheek. 

With your body being as it is, you make for a very safe shelter for her. Nilou would like nothing else than to curl up in your strong, masculine arms, safely away from the threats and dangers of the world. Your body is also very good at heating her up on cold days with how big it is. A perfect pillow, a perfect ladder, a perfect vehicle, a perfect jar opener - she enjoys it thoroughly, and isn’t afraid to show her appreciation of you. 

Whenever you’re shirtless, expect Nilou to always show respect to your scars. They are marks of a warrior, a courageous man who endured wounds and stood tall through adversity. She’ll kiss them gently, and if you allow her, trace her fingers along them with featherlight touches. Nilou would love to learn their stories, but will understand when you don’t want to share them. She knows that these particular ones might have scarred more than your body. 

Nilou enjoys taking care of her big, strong man. She will cook for you whenever there’s a chance, even if you insist otherwise. 

Nilou: Here you go honey! Enjoy~ Y/N: This is wonderful… But you didn’t have to go all this way, you know? I have a pair of hands… Nilou: Hey, don’t mention it. It’s my obligation and my pleasure as your woman to keep you just as healthy and happy as you keep me, right? I think it's just fair, sweetie.

Nilou is very aware that her anxiety regarding leaving Sumeru City is a result of her sheltered life. She’s never really left it - the wilderness is teeming with bandits, Fatui and monsters who would all gladly have a piece of her if the opportunity came. She might have a Vision, but Nilou’s no warrior - she never practiced using it for combat, never had the need to fight, nor is she a very strong girl. With you by her side, however, she feels safe. She knows you’ll keep her way out of danger - she saw you fight, so trust isn’t the sole thing backing up her belief in your capabilities. Nilou truly enjoys walks out in the forest without a care in the world as well as picnics with you. Still, she insists on getting back before it gets dark, and if evening catches you by surprise, you’ll find her gripping your hand and sticking very close to you. 

Kindness speaks through your eyes, but they also betray years of experience and proficiency at fighting. This is the exact reason that Nilou’s manager decided that you’d make a perfect bodyguard for Nilou. Sure, Sumeru wasn’t really known for violent incidents, but you never know. The simple fact that you happen to be her husband is an added benefit as well. Nilou is more motivated, feels safer and is generally happier when you’re nearby. Besides, she only agrees to leave for Port Ormos if you accompany her, which by itself is a big step up from before when she was confined to Sumeru City. Still, other locations are for the future only for the time being.

Y/N: I’m sorry miss, but this is a staff only area. Woman: I am allowed to pass. Nilou: Is everything alright?  Y/N: Yes, Nilou. Turns back May I see proof of this then? Woman: I don’t need to show a grunt like you anything. Do you know who I am? Y/N: No and, frankly, I do not care. Please step back. Woman: I have my methods for types like you! Y/N: leans in And I have my methods of making you into a headstone or a vegetable. You may take your pick.

Due to the nature of your past job, some may see a killer in you, but Nilou doesn’t share their outlook. She might be young, optimistic and innocent by nature, but it doesn’t mean she’s oblivious to what war is. Your stories, as dark and upsetting as they are, only furthered her disdain towards conflict, but not towards you. 

Nilou knows that you cannot expect someone to act humane in an inhuman situation. She knows that the people and creatures you had killed were not killed for your own amusement, but because it was a simple choice between you and them. She does not hate you - she never will. You are just like the thousands of other young men, sent to the frontlines and made to kill monsters or their fellow man without much choice in the matter. 

She does appreciate that the war made you the man of today - a rugged, attractive beast of a fearless man - but she won't ever as much as think of suggesting that the war had a positive effect on you. Saying this wouldn't only be insensitive, but also, sadly, untrue. 

Your experiences left a permanent mark on you. They scarred both your body and your mind. She can see it in your eyes. You haven't fully left the battlefield, left the army, and it is plain to see. You have a set daily schedule, for example. You also keep a sword by your bedside and a dagger under your pillow. “Just in case” you promise, but she knows better than that. 

You have dreams about your past that might come and go, as you reassure her, but seeing you in distress breaks her heart. Nilou was always waking you up whenever a nightmare haunted you, calmly reassuring you that it's okay, that it's all a dream. She grounds you with gentle touches and soft words, expertly bringing you back to reality. At home, you dislike talking about the war, just as you dislike noise, especially metallic in nature. Nilou understands that, and makes sure to avoid rattling kitchen equipment and the like when she's preparing you food, for example. 

Speaking of cooking, and taking care of you in general, it doesn’t bother her at all, partly because of what you experienced. In the last, you have been forced out of your home and into a life of violence and approved murder where every day could be your last. But now you're home - with her. She is your wife, your home, your safe refuge. It's only natural for her to find fulfillment and pleasure in creating a loving retreat for you to rest your weary soul in. 

She is thrilled to help you and care for you, for just one, simple reason. She loves you. 

Thanks for reading!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #fluff #genshin impact nilou #nilou #nilou x reader #nilou x y/n #nilou x male reader #nilou x you #nilou fluff

[6esiree]

“Oh, so your fingers worked when they were inside of me last night, but today they can’t text me back?”

I saw this on Instagram and tried to imagine how my five fav Hazbin men would react if you texted them this. I whipped this up pretty quickly so sorry if it’s crap, LOL <3

Alastor:

Alastor only has a phone so you can contact him whenever you need to, and he usually answers right away. But the one time he doesn’t because he’s out with Rosie, you decide to hit him up with this and he’s visibly horrified, flustered even, when he finally reads it.

“Is something the matter, Alastor?” Rosie asks, putting her teacup down as she notices the look on his face. “Oh my! Are you…blushing?”

“Excuse me for just a second,” Alastor says as he stiffly stands up, pushing his seat in and turning away, furiously typing away at his phone.

“I am with Rosie. We will talk about this when I get home, understood?”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting for u <3.”

“Kiss your legs goodbye, mon chéri, because you will be unable to walk for a while.”

Lucifer:

Whenever you go out, you like to text Lucifer to see how he’s doing. This man answers FAST as fuck, that is why the one time he doesn’t you hit him up with this, trying to get his attention. When he finally checks his phone his heart instantly drops—I mean, what is he supposed to feel? He’s a blushing mess as he recalls what you did last night, but he’s also panicking, so he decides to call you.

“Hey, honey! I’m so, so sorry, I was in the middle of something,” Lucifer says, trying not to stutter, but you can still hear the nervousness in his voice. “My fingers work just fine, by the way, I can show you if you come back home—“

“Christ, Luci! I was just trying to get you to answer.”

“Pretty please?”

Husk:

Husk takes his sweet ass time responding to your texts, so the best way to reach him is to call him. However, it’s just one of those rare occasions where you can’t call him, that’s why you hit him up with this to try to get his attention. Husk has company at the bar, so when he finally sees your text he immediately turns his back to everybody, cursing under his breath as he tries to adjust himself through his pants.

“Oh, babydoll. Just wait until you get home,” Husk texts you back, pissed off but also slightly amused, especially when you answer him.

“Haha, ok…whatever u say old man :P.”

“You’re lucky Angel can't mind his own fucking business, but you'll see.”

Vox:

Unless he’s busy with something or he’s pissed off with you, Vox will answer your texts right away. The one time he forgets to tell you he has a meeting, you hit him up with this after trying to reach him for a while. Vox steals a glance down at his phone and this is how he reacts to it in his head, his screen slightly glitching when he’s asked to put in his two cents about something because he’s flustered. As soon as the meeting is over with, though, he teleports to your room, utterly embarrassed.

“I was in a MEETING! What in the Hell were you thinking?”

“Hey, I didn’t know that, I swear!”

“Yeah, yeah, now come over here, doll. I'll show you that my fingers work just fine.”

Adam:

Adam is 50/50 when it comes to answering your texts. Sometimes he’ll answer quickly, and sometimes he won’t, which can be frustrating. When you hit him up with this, it’s one of those times that he’s taking hours to see your texts, even leaving you on read when he finally opens them because his memory is shit. Adam is out with Lute, his eyes bugging out of his head when he decides to check his phone. I mean, hey, what’s up with that?

“Where are you going?” Lute asks him, watching him spread his wings.

But Adam doesn’t answer, leaving before she can notice his boner. This dude thinks about sex like, all the time, so of course he’d react that way.

“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? You gave me a boner in public, you stupid—!”

“Well start answering your texts then, Adam! And don't you dare finish that sentence, or no sex for a week.”

“I'm so sorry, baby. I love you so much and I will answer your texts right away from now on.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin husk x reader #husk x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader

[corazondebeskar-reads]

the art of breaking: part two

the art of breaking, part two: theory of decay

very dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

NOTE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. this fic contains themes of abuse and extremely dark content.

words: 10k

summary: joel knows just how to make you his forever. a sequel to "the art of breaking"

warnings (new warnings in red) and story under the cut; reader discretion is advised.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, very dark!Joel, BAD bdsm etiquette, not SSC/RACK compliant, sadist!Joel x masochist!reader, coercion, corruption, manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, glory hole, reader gives tommy a blowjob (joel and tommy do not touch), body modification, permanent marking, captivity, sadism, masochism, pain play, extreme punishment, whipping, impact play in general, mentions of vomit (no description), oral, vaginal, reader x other men, degradation, humiliation, Joel sees reader as property, inadequate aftercare, blink and you miss it piss "play," straight up abuse this time guys, overstimulation, forced eating, needles, voyeurism, objectification, human furniture/ashtray, cigarettes, consumption of non-food items, nipple/clit pumps, this one might be worse than the first idk sorry

Again, I cannot say this enough. This is a dark fantasy and should not be taken as representative of a good d/s relationship—it’s abuse masquerading. Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I’m condoning it. 

Please read responsibly. 

i. dessication

When he goes to work, he leaves you free to roam the house and do your chores. For shorter trips out, he tends to put you in your cage. There’s no real reason, but it keeps you in a good place. You’re always softer, quieter when he gets back and lets you out. 

He couldn’t do it all the time, of course. There are things needing to be done. Plus, every day, he gets to come home to you knelt, waiting by the door with dinner kept warm. He could afford a housekeeper, but then you’d have nothing to keep your mind and body occupied when he’s away. 

Of course, sometimes he leaves you chained up in the basement. He can’t always be nice, after all. And the thing he loves to come home to most, second only to you kneeling at the door, is your exhausted body still tied where he left it, bearing the marks of his latest pleasure. 

Sometimes, he just leaves you in stocks to contemplate all the raw kisses from his favorite whip. Sometimes, he has you pinned to the table with a vibrator strapped to your clit for the day. On the lowest setting—he’s not a monster. 

Well. It starts on the lowest setting. He can do whatever he wants with it through a handy app. It was the only way Tommy could convince him to upgrade to a smartphone.

But today, you’re just set about neatening up. Neither you nor Joel are messy— though he does have a tendency to empty his pockets wherever he’s standing—and it’s not a huge house. You finish up early and have time to read while supper’s in the oven. 

You’re already kneeling when you hear the key in the door, eyes down, hands behind your back, but you have to tense up not to flinch when you hear a second pair of boots.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” drawls a voice you don’t know. 

The only reason you don’t panic is because Joel’s boots enter your field of vision. You’re intimately acquainted with them—literally—and despite the fresh layer of dirt, you’d know them anywhere. 

“Ooh, damn, she’s good,” says the voice.

Joel chuckles and reaches down to stroke your cheek. “Told ya.” 

You melt a little against his hand, letting the pride in his voice warm you.

He rubs his thumb over your cheek and lets you press a little kiss to the digit before stepping back to take his shoes off and dump the handful of change and crumpled receipts on the foyer table. “C’mon,” he says, snapping his fingers so you know he means you, too.

You resist the urge to look at the stranger, but you don’t like the way he lingers to follow you instead of following Joel. You can feel his eyes on your exposed flesh, the dress just short enough to show off your cunt when you crawl. 

No one has ever come into the house before. At least not when you’re out and about. You don’t know if Joel’s had company while you’ve been in the basement or something; you’ve never even thought about it. All you know is that it’s been a long time since you’ve seen another person. 

It’s terrifying. 

You go to kneel between Joel’s feet, but he stops you. “Turn around,” he says, guiding you with firm hands to face forward. 

He laughs when he sees that you’re still staring very carefully at the carpet. “Y’can look at him; he ain’t gonna bite.”

The other man, who has settled in the armchair facing the couch, laughs too. “I might,” he says.

“No, you won’t.” Joel’s voice goes hard for a moment, and you don’t need to see to know he’s glaring. 

It makes you feel better. So what if someone’s looking at you? Joel’s still protecting you. 

He lifts your chin up so you have to look at the other man. He’s broad, though not as much as Joel, with dark curls and dark eyes that make you feel like he wants to cut you open and see how you tick. 

“This is my little brother, Tommy,” Joel says. “Go tell him hello.” 

“Hello,” you say quietly. 

“C’mon, now, go give him a proper greeting,” Joel nudges you with his foot. You crawl over to Tommy and kneel between his legs. Your gaze darts from him to Joel, teeth worrying at your lip. 

“Don’t embarrass me, girl,” Joel warns.

Tommy lifts your chin with his hand. “He wants you to suck me off. Go ahead.” 

It’s nice, but it’s not his permission you need. You risk one more glance at Joel. 

“You heard him. You got two seconds, sweetheart, before you’re gonna regret it,” he growls.

“You goin’ soft? You usually have ‘em trained better by now,” Tommy teases, but his words have Joel seeing red. 

You sit back. “What?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, did you think you were special?” Tommy says with a nasty smirk. He pats your face. “Poor thing.”

You look at Joel, tears welling up. 

“What, you think I had a house full of equipment that’s never been used? Y’should be grateful. All my toys before you had to suffer some trial and error. I got it perfected now, and you’re wasting it, being a fuckin’ disobedient bitch.” 

You close your eyes tight and choke back a sob. He’s never, ever spoken to you like that before. When you turn back to Tommy, you have your mouth open wide and waiting.

He leans back. “Well? You gonna make me do all the work?”

“Can I use my hands, please?” you say, eyes darting from Tommy to Joel. 

“Great, now you got her all nervous,” Tommy bitches, and Joel rolls his eyes. 

“Go ahead,” Joel tells you gruffly. You’ve been so good. So obedient. Maybe he shoulda warned you that he wanted to show you off. No, he thinks, it’s not his fault. He didn’t owe you a warning. You should just accept it and obey.

You’re shaking when you tug open the button of Tommy’s jeans, fumbling with the zipper. Apparently, it takes long enough that he grunts and knocks your hand away, pulling his cock out. 

It feels like a trap. Joel has not explicitly ordered you to do this. But he doesn’t usually try to trick you. 

“For Christ’s sake,” Tommy snaps, and yanks you forward. You get with the program quickly, wrapping your lips around him and trying to do your best. 

He’s smaller than Joel, but it’s a decent cock. Not that it matters to you. Despite not having to gag on him, you can’t breathe anyway, too preoccupied. Why is Joel doing this? Is he going to punish you for it later? 

And the worst thing, the thing that keeps bouncing around your brain as you try to get Tommy off: What happened to the other girls? Did he get tired of them and kick them out?

Was he not going to keep you?

You don’t notice you’re crying, but Tommy clearly enjoys it. He moans and holds you down as he cums down your throat. You aren’t ready, though, and sputter a little, coughing and leaking his cum down your chest. 

“Jesus Christ,” Joel snaps. He gets up off the couch and yanks you away from his brother by the hair. “What the hell's the matter with you today?” 

“I’m sorry,” you cry. 

“Shut up,” he says, and drags you out to the place you visit in most of your nightmares, despite only having been there once in reality. 

The Pit. 

ii. consumption

When he comes to get you in the morning, you’re wrecked. Deflated, no more tears left to pour down your cheeks. For now, at least.  

The sun is against his back when he opens the gate, reaching down for you with one strong arm. Bathed in the golden light, he is every inch your savior, and when you’ve climbed out on shaky legs, you prostrate yourself at his feet the way he likes. 

He’s still mad, though, so he steps one filthy boot on your head and grinds your face into the mud. He pisses on it for good measure, the hot stream dripping down your hair and face onto the soil. 

He’s got a switch in one hand. With you effectively pinned in place, he wastes no time in swinging it down on your ass. 

You scream and sob as he beats you. When he finally stops, when he’s drawn every bit of his anger in welts against your skin, he lifts his boot from your head and squats down. 

“Why d’you have to make me do this?” He’s solemn, sorrowful. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say, focusing on controlling the hysterical sobs wrenching from your chest. 

You don’t know what will follow, so you remain still, not daring to move without an order. 

“I should drop you off at a fuckin’ whorehouse,” he mutters. He pulls you up by your hair, and you scramble to your knees. “You can learn to suck who you’re told to suck.”

“Please, sir, please don’t, please—” It’s too much. You stumble, sobs wracking your body hard enough that you can’t move. You collapse in the grass with his hand still holding your head up. 

He lets go, letting you fall. 

You crawl to his boots and kiss them, mud be damned. It wasn’t like you weren’t covered in it anyway. “Please, sir, I’m so sorry, please don’t—” you say between sobs. 

“Please don’t what? You think you’re in any position to be askin’ for anything?”

“Don’t get rid of me, please; I promise I’ll be better; I can be good.”

“I’ll think about it, if you can fuckin’ earn it.”

“Please, please let me try to earn it.”

He squats down and helps pull you to your knees in front of him, cupping your filthy face in both hands. “I don’t wanna send you away. You know I love ya. But if you can’t be good, then what’s the point, baby?”

Your sobs are subsiding out of the pure elation that comes from his gentle touch. “I’ll do anything,” you whisper.

“I know ya will. You don’t really have a choice.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m gonna get you fed and taken care of. But you’re about to have one of the worst days of your fuckin’ life.”

You choke on a sob and sway a little. The fear and the hunger are like a fog over your brain. 

“Hey. Listen t’me.” He holds your hands in one of his. “You’re gonna learn, and it’s gonna be real hard for ya. But at the end of it all— if you take it all like a good girl—you’ll be forgiven. Got it?”

You look up through tear-sodden lashes, lip quivering, and nod your head. 

There’s no part of you anymore that registers an issue. No warning bells, no red flags, no hair raising. 

You follow him to the bottom of the patio steps, where he nudges you to kneel back down, folding over so your face rests against the soil. You wait while he goes inside, unsure of how much time has passed until he comes back out with a plate of eggs, scrambled with cheese and little bits of sausage. 

That raises some alarms. Not to the way he treats you, but more of a signal for what to expect. It’s protein-heavy, which isn’t necessarily unusual, but it smells delicious. And there’s no way you’re getting to eat that after behaving so badly. 

You’re half right. He squats down next to you and scoops up a bite with the fork. You don’t take the bait; you know that’s not for you. 

He moans exaggeratedly when he chews, grinning all the while. And then he scrapes the rest off the plate into the dirt in front of your face. 

“Ah, ah. Not yet,” he says, and you close your eyes at the sound of his zipper being yanked down. 

“You get wet from that beating earlier?” he asks.

You nod, even though he’s already reaching down between your legs and shoving his fingers in your cunt. He brings back his shiny hand and strokes his cock. 

“Look at me, baby,” he says, shifting onto his knees so when you open your eyes, you’re faced with his fist pumping away at the red, angry head. “Coulda been you. Shoulda been, but bad girls don’t get what they want.” 

You whimper. It really does hurt your feelings, but you know you have nothing to say for yourself. 

“Open. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and get some fresh.”

You obey immediately, squeezing your eyes back shut as soon as he starts to cum. A little bit lands in your mouth, which you hold open.

“You can swallow that. But don’t eat yet.” 

He walks away, puttering around on the patio. You try to work up the nerve for his command, stomach churning. Maybe it’ll still taste fine. Maybe cold semen and dirt won’t ruin it that much. Maybe. 

If you hadn’t earlier, you believed him now about it being the worst day of your life. He certainly wasn’t starting out small. Sure, you’d eaten off the floor before, but inside the house. The house you clean, so you know how sanitary it is. 

But thinking about doing this makes you want to cry. And when he tells you to get started, you do cry. Just a little. 

“You got about six minutes,” he says, checking his phone for the time instead of the eternally broken watch on his wrist, “and there better not be a single crumb left. Get your ass up here as soon as you’re done.”

You’re not sure how long it takes you, but it must be nearly the whole six minutes, because by the time you’re knelt at his feet on the patio, he says, “Cuttin’ it damn close, sweetheart.” 

He’s playing fucking Candy Crush, legs kicked out on the little wooden table in front of him. He’s got you knelt at his side, and after a few minutes, he digs into his breast pocket and hands you a smushed carton of cigarettes. 

You draw one carefully out of the pack and extend it to him, letting go once he’s pinched it between his lips and pulling out the lighter. Carefully, you ignite the tip for him and tuck it back away. You go to give the carton back, but he shakes his head.

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth to blow smoke. “Hang onto that for me. And this,” and he hands you his coffee cup. 

It’s not the first time he’s used you as a table. He tried using you as a footrest but found it less satisfying. You try to sit and work through your nerves, try to ignore the terror that he might not keep you if you can’t endure the day. 

It’s a good thing that he drained you of any concept of dignity long ago, cut you open, and let it ooze away like pus from an infection.  

“Open,” he says absently, not bothering to look away from his game.

Your eyes and mouth snap open, and he taps the cigarette against your lip, letting the ash fall onto your tongue. You jerk back a little but correct it immediately.

He quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll give ya a pass this time. But keep your mouth open, tongue out, and don’t fucking swallow.” 

He’s clearly happy to spend the afternoon like this. He goes through a second cigarette and still doesn’t let you swallow or spit. Your knees ache from the planks of the deck. 

He gets up and goes inside for a few minutes, taking his empty coffee cup with him. You don’t dare drop your position, though. 

When he comes back out, he hands you a bottle of beer, condensation already dripping. He resettles to watch the game on his phone. 

Anything resembling hope is trickling out. He hates watching things on the little screen, peering at it through his glasses. But he never smokes inside the house, so he’s resigned himself to this for the sake of your punishment.

It makes you feel less than the ash on your tongue. 

By the time it’s over, your mouth has long gone dry, itching with the ash of four cigarettes, when he stands up and stretches. He leans down and holds your chin before spitting in your mouth.

“There ya go. Swallow.” 

And you do. When you cough a little as the ashes cling to your dry throat, he pries your mouth back open and spits again. 

It helps a little. 

iii. dismemberment

You’d only been in the Pit once before. The first time was arguably your worst offense, which was good, Joel thought, that you still hadn’t topped that misbehavior. 

But as glad as you are that it hasn’t happened a lot, it means you don’t really know what to expect. When he brings you into the ensuite, you know this routine enough that you kneel on the shower floor, barely flinching when he turns only the cold tap, and the faucet sputters to life. 

He never gets in until you’re shivering, so while he gathers fresh clothes and towels, you scrub the mud from your body. When he checks and finds you satisfactory, he turns the knobs until the water runs warm. 

Your shivers don’t subside for a few more minutes, though. Not until you’re practically done cleaning him with the spongey loofah. Hot tears burn in the corners of your eyes, though only a few slip loose.

When he turns around and takes it from you, you thank him for letting you wash him. 

He gives you a smile, hand cupping your cheek.

“Of course, baby. Don’t worry. I’m going to help you remember how to be my good girl.”

But first, before he can follow up on the threat, he washes the mud and piss from your hair with gentle hands, massaging your scalp. You hold still, head tipped back, and let the tears come harder.

He notices but doesn’t comment. It’s normal now, when he takes care of you after a hard punishment. Or, in this case, in the middle of one.

You go to speak, to pour out your regrets and devotion, but he shushes you.

“I want you quiet ‘till I say otherwise,” he says. “Nothin’ outta you unless it’s an emergency. Got it?”

You nod, and he helps you to your feet, drying you with a soft towel and taking care around the raised welts on your ass. There will be some nasty bruises tomorrow, but when isn’t there? Your tits have mottled spots of yellow fading, and the shape of Joel’s hand around your throat basically never leaves. 

He gives your raw, burning skin a sharp smack, sending you off to put on the dress he’s laid out for you.

He tells you nothing, just leads you to the truck. The drive is quiet, apart from the crooning voice on the radio. It’s a bit of a drive, and you park in a broken-up lot surrounded by rusty chainlink fence. He grabs your hand and takes you across the street to a dilapidated building. A cheap banner is tacked above one of the doors. 

Joel hands a bill to a man, who opens the door just enough for you to squeeze in. It doesn’t take long to figure out where you are.

“Been a while since I brought you someplace nice, baby. Hope you like it, ‘cause we’re gonna be here most of the night.”

That’s the understatement of your life. He hasn’t taken you out of the house in over a year. You’re not sure you remember how to exist away from home, clinging to his arm as he leads you through the club.

You can’t decide what will be worse, but you don’t have to wonder for long when he drags you around to an empty stall. He’s not there to use a hole. You’re there to be one. 

He clips your collar to the wall with just enough slack that you could pull back to breathe if the person on the other side doesn’t let you. 

He takes the ring gag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of you. “You need this, or are ya gonna be good?”

“I’ll be good,” you say immediately, a phantom ache in the hinge of your jaw. 

“You sure? ‘Cause if you have to ask later or I have to make that decision myself, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper. 

“Good.” He pats the side of your face, two sharp smacks in lieu of a caress. There will be no softness for you tonight. 

He waits to talk to you until your mouth is full. You look miserable, but you don’t hesitate. It’s not to the standard he’d usually require, but you’re both aware of the hours ahead, so he lets you pace yourself. 

He crouches down near you. “You like that? Some random dirty prick in your throat?” 

You, of course, can’t answer, but your eyes close against the hurt.

“It’s fucking disgusting. You think I want to let just anyone use you? I could fuck any hole I want. I could go out there and have every cunt and ass and mouth. You know why I won’t?”

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t try to answer, don’t stop what you’re doing. 

“Because they ain’t you, sweetheart. You’re my perfect girl. Nicest I’ve ever had. And if I got something this nice, and I don’t share it with my brother? You don’t even suck him off right? How do you think that made him feel, baby?”

He keeps it up, past the point where he feels like carrying on, but he can tell it’s wearing you down faster than the relentless facefucking. You’re starting to work your jaw, joints popping in between visitors, but even that doesn’t compare to the way you’ve started to shake when he’s scolding you.

“I know you’re tired, baby. I hope you remember this fuckin’ lesson because I’m not sacrificing two nights of sleep again to repeat it.”

You whimper around the stranger’s cock, which encourages them to fuck into you harder. But Joel knows the tears in your eyes aren’t from that. 

“Yeah, you were bein’ selfish, huh? I couldn’t fuckin’ sleep with you out there, and now I’m up all night with you here.”

There it was, he thought, watching you break. A little too early; it was going to be tough to keep you going. But nothin’ did you in like the thought of having hurt him in the process. 

And it was true. He never slept with someone out in The Pit. Too fuckin dangerous. He kept watch on a camera. He needed you scared and sorry, not dead. 

He watches as you choke down the stranger’s seed, looking like you might retch. He shuts the little sliding door for a few minutes and gives you some water. After you’ve rehydrated and seem a little less green, he opens it back up.

“Alright, get ready for the next round.”

In the truck on the way home, he keeps you tucked close to his side. Between the dark, empty highway and his coat wrapped around you, you start to doze off. 

He nudges you a little. “None of that now. Ain’t finished with you yet.”

You whimper, not in protest but in exhaustion. Despite how hard you try to fight it, you’re fast asleep when he pulls into the driveway. 

He thinks about waking you up anyway, to follow through on his word. He carries you inside and up to the bedroom, still deliberating, but when he tries to set you down on the bed, you cling to him desperately, even in your sleep. He manages to wriggle the coat off you and lays down beside you. He’ll just let you both rest for a little while.

You wake up, mid-afternoon, shaking all over. Joel awakens moments later, eyes wide as he tugs on your arm to roll you over. 

“Oh, baby,” he says, and moves to get out of the bed. “Knew I shouldn’t have let you go to sleep.”

But you grab onto him, lip trembling. 

He knocks your hand away. “I‘ll be right back, jus’ hold on.”

You’re curled into yourself, sobbing, when he gets back three minutes later. 

He hands you a water bottle anyway. “Sit up; you need to eat. It’ll help.”

Somehow, you find the strength to struggle and wriggle your body into sitting. He brings you to lean against his chest while he leans against the headboard. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a kiss pressed to your head. 

You start crying hard all over again. 

“I know. M’sorry. I should have talked to ya last night, huh? S’that what you’re all worked up about?”

You nod. There you are, sitting in his bed, when you hadn’t fucking earned it. But he doesn’t shove you off or hurt you for it; he just feeds you a protein bar and lets you sip at the water between bites. 

After he’s given you the last of the bar, he has you slide down to your knees by the side of the bed.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I disobeyed and embarrassed you.” 

“I didn’t ask you what you did wrong.”

“Oh,” you say softly, and have to think. “I didn’t understand, at first. That you wanted me to suck his cock.”

“And after you did?”

“I—” you don’t want to say it. You know he’s going to be mad. He doesn’t like when you question things like this.

“Is this because Tommy said you weren’t special? ‘Cause you know better.” 

“No, I just… why did you get rid of the others? What did they do?” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and cups your face in one hand. “I don’t think that’s anything you gotta worry about. Not anymore.”

“But how will I know how to do better?”

“You already are. None of ‘em ever made it this far. They talked big talk but couldn’t back it up. Some of ‘em didn’t want to give up the things you have, some of ‘em couldn’t handle my expectations. I told you, you’re the nicest thing I’ve ever had. You’ve let me make you exactly the way I want you to be.”

“Even though I was so bad the other night?”

“Yep. Because you took every consequence, and I know you’ve learned your lesson. And you’ll probably fuck up again someday. But if you keep wantin’ to be better, I’ll keep teachin’ ya.” 

You can’t help but cry again. You’re so tired and so tired of crying. 

“What, were you worried I was gonna replace you with some new young thing someday?”

You nod, and he clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m gettin’ old, sweetheart. I don’t want to keep breakin’ in toys that ain’t worth my time. I just finished puttin’ you back together exactly the way I like ya. You stay my good girl, and you’ll be mine ‘till I die.” 

It doesn’t stop your tears.

“Hey,” he says. “What do you need?”

It startles you. “What?”

“What do you need? What’s gonna make you feel better, baby?” 

You’re not sure when the last time you’ve had to think about something like that is. He’s been taking care of you for so long now. 

“Whatever you want,” you say. 

“No, baby, that’s not what I’m asking.”

“That’s my answer, though,” you realize. “I need to feel whatever you want me to.”

“God damn,” he whispers. “I fucked you up, huh?”

Your lip trembles.

“No, baby, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just kinda incredible. Jesus. How could you think I’d ever get rid of you? There’s not a fuckin’ bit of you that isn’t mine.” 

Your cheeks burn, so you bury your face into his palm and press a kiss to the center. 

“You want to know what I want, is that right?”

You nod. 

“I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth. And then I want to order us some fuckin’ takeout and eat it in the bath.”

It makes you smile just a little. 

“Yeah? That sound good, baby?” His thumb rubs against your cheek. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, open up for me.”

You wrangle yourself into position. The initial weight and taste of him sends warmth through your bones for the first moment since he dragged you outside. 

It’s sloppy, the way he fucks your throat, in a way it usually isn’t. It’s always messy, but his thrusts are erratic. You can’t keep up with his pace because there simply isn’t one. It’s not long before he’s holding you down and pumping his cum down your throat.

It trickles down and cleanses everything in its path. You’re lighter, like you can breathe again. You thank him sweetly, pressing a kiss to his twitching cock. 

He’s panting, but strokes your cheek with one hand. “That’s my good girl. Feel better now that I washed all those other guys outta your mouth?” 

Technically, he had done that last night, had shoved three soap-covered fingers in your mouth in the gross club bathroom. Wretchedly, it had the side effect of making you nauseous, and he had insisted on doing it over after you threw up.

But this felt more pure to him, more consecrational in a way. The soap might have cleared the actual evidence away, but his come was your wine and wafer. 

“Yes, sir,” you say into the flesh of his thigh where your head rests. You kiss there for good measure, eliciting a pleased hum from him that sends you preening a little. 

He lays back on the bed, leaving a hand on the top of your head to stroke your hair while the other gropes around for his phone. “What do you want, baby? Lo mein?” 

“Oh, yes, please.” 

He feeds you noodles in the bath and then eats you out until you fall asleep. 

iv. reduced to bone

You’re on your knees in the basement, bent forward over a metal pipe placed at just the right height to nestle into your hips and keep them tilted up in the air. Stocks hold your head and wrists in place, tits hanging just below. The wood is slowly dampening as you drool around the ring gag. 

“Got a surprise for you, baby,” he had said when he led you down. “You know how you keep beggin’ me to hurt you worse, and I have to keep tellin’ you I’m not tryin' to wear you out?”

“Yes, sir?” 

“Well, I think you’re going to like this.”

That had been… well, you’re not entirely sure. A while ago, maybe, but your brain wasn’t the best judge of time right now. After he had secured you here, he had dragged out the little machine. It’s sitting under your torso somewhere, thin clear tubing stretching out like a web he’d caught you in. 

There’s no noise but the hum of it, which you’ve gone pleasantly numb to. The pressure is unending, each nipple and your clit being tugged into the tiny cups relentlessly. 

It tingles, just on the side of too gentle to be fulfilling on its own. That’s okay. You’re pretty sure you’ll be in delicious, mind-shattering agony soon. 

This you know because, well, it’s Joel, but also because of the tools he’s laid out on the little wheeled cart and left for you to stare at. 

A thin cane. Clover clamps with a length of chain. A tawse with a tapered, pointy tip. A wand. 

It makes you dizzy to look at. 

Also, you know because it’s a Friday night. Joel enjoys you however he likes any day of the week, but he’s careful about saving the deepest of his cruelties for Fridays. Because mind-shattering wasn’t really an exaggeration. When he gets like this, you sometimes don’t surface enough to take care of yourself for a day or two.

On those occasions, he never leaves you alone. Doesn’t want to, both because he loves when you need him that deeply and because you’re so soft and pliant. Truthfully, he thinks he could do anything to you then and you’d thank him for it. 

Which is why he’s got Tommy coming over tomorrow. It’s not that he thinks you need to be out of it to avoid a repeat of last time. He knows you learned your lesson and you’ll be good. 

But he’s got something special in mind that he needs help with. It’ll just be easier for everyone if you’re at your most agreeable. 

And yeah, you owe Tommy a blowjob. One of the ones that make Joel feel like he mighta died and somehow gotten through the pearly gates by the grace of your devotion. 

Plus, he’s pretty sure you’re going to love his plan, and he wants you unprepared, so you’ll cry real pretty and be truly desperate to show him your appreciation. It’s been on his mind since that night a few months back when you didn’t seem to believe him about never letting you go. 

He’s never fucking letting you go. There’s nothing in this world that could take you from him. He’s made sure of it. 

Sometimes, he has to remind himself that you don’t know you’re married. 

He thought about telling you that night, so you’d understand the depth of the commitment he’s made. But he doesn’t want you to take it the wrong way. Doesn’t want you thinking you need to act like a wife . 

He’d had a whole bucket of bullshit cooked up to excuse it, but when he told you to sign the paper, you hadn’t questioned it. Hadn’t questioned that you couldn’t see what it was, only the line where he pointed. You’d signed the fucking paper and never asked a goddamn thing. 

He was glad. He didn’t like lying to you. This was just one of those hoops to jump through in a world that didn’t understand what you shared. 

When he comes back down, your eyes are already glazed over. Your body shines with a thin layer of sweat, and your chest is heaving as you squirm. It’s gone beyond gentle. The waves of suction have you whimpering soft and high, barely louder than a breath, but nearly constant. 

He chuckles and strolls over, crouching down to wipe the sweat off your brow with the bandana from his pocket before it gets in your eyes. You give him a truly pathetic look, eyes wide as you drool helplessly. 

“Not so nice now, huh?” 

You whine. 

He strokes your cheek with an exaggerated pout before sliding two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue. It tries to curl around them, eliciting another cruel laugh. 

“Jesus, girl. S’there anything that would stop ya from gagging for my cock?”

You shake your head. Even if you weren’t spread by the ring gag and choking on his fingers, you’re beyond speech. Too far deep. 

Joel actually doesn’t mind when you talk. He’s got no rules restricting your speech (well, most of the time). As long as you’re respectful, he likes the company. 

But he really likes when you go quiet like this. When he’s pushed you so far that you can’t . 

“Look at you, all worked up. We haven’t even gotten started, baby. You gonna be able to take it?”

You nod, whining, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes them on your cheek. 

“What was that, baby? Couldn’t quite understand ya.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you whine again. 

“I’m just teasin’,” he says and kisses your forehead. “I got ya. I know you’re gonna be my good girl and take everything I fuckin’ want.”

He reaches down and tugs the tubing until the cups pop free of your breasts. You cry out, but it turns into a desperate moan when he tugs the one off your clit. 

Yeah, he coulda turned the pump off first so they just fell off, but where’s the fun in that? 

He’s grinning wickedly as he reaches back up to your breast. He barely, just barely, brushes over the side of your nipple, and the sound you make goes right to his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re so swollen.” He has to remind himself he’s playing the long game; he just wants to pinch and pull so badly. He’s pretty sure you’ll scream, even though normally it wouldn’t be much at all. 

But he wants to fuckin’ torture you tonight, so he’s going to drag it out. He wants you incoherent and beaten down when he’s done, so far gone you’ll stay there for days. 

So he’s gotta start soft. He drags his fingertip around your areola, not quite brushing the nipple but tracing the ring left behind by the cup. You twitch, shoulders jerking back, and he grips your breast. 

“None of that, now,” he croons, letting go and switching sides to torment your other breast. 

It’s holy, in that way you never quite understood. Not like the Jesus kind, though you never were much for church either, but in the way that people chase salvation through empty bottles and sharp needles. 

With the wand and the tawse, he breaks you down again and again and again. But that’s the thing about Joel. He reduces you to pain or pleasure or the delicious apex of both that brews between your thighs, and then he cleans you back up, puts the pieces back where he likes them.

He makes you come until you cry, and then, when you’re sobbing and exhausted, that’s when the night really begins. You’re twitching and jerking at the barest contact, writhing with every snap of the cane. 

It’s so, so good. Until it isn’t. But he’s running that damn mouth of his, that sweet, filthy mouth, and you can’t not take it. Your tears are gone, all run out; he likes to wring you dry. And he keeps rubbing his hand over your hypersensitive flesh, already raw and ruined, and murmuring soft words and sweet taunts. 

“Look at you,” he croons. “My pretty little toy. You’re so beautiful, suffering for me like this, baby.”

And so you do. You suffer for him. There’s nothing left in your little subby brain right now but Joel Joel Joel. 

You’re dry. He almost can’t believe it. The only time you’ve not been a sloppy, soaking mess was when he broke your finger. 

He whistles low and slow. “Shit, baby. Guess you have some limits after all, huh.” 

It’s impressive that you can even lift your head enough to shake it weakly. An overwhelming fondness washes over him. 

“ Aw. Takin’ it for me anyway, were ya?” He comes around and squats near your head, unhooking the gag and easing it out of your mouth. He rubs gentle circles on the hinges of your jaw as you whimper.

“Did so good for me, baby. Lemme get you outta there, and I’ll give you my cock.”

You shake your head, tears spilling over, but you don’t have a voice. The words don’t come together in your mind, just devastation.

His grip turns tight, forcing you to look at him. “No? You tellin’ me no?”

You shake your head again, lip quivering. 

“You don’t want my cock?”

You shake your head harder and try to reach for him, hands flexing where they’re bound in the stocks. Trying to make him see just how bad you want his cock. 

Luckily, he understands that much. “You wanna stay there? Baby, my knees ain’t gonna like fuckin’ you here.” But he can tell from the way your face crumples that he still isn’t quite getting it. 

“Are you tryin’ to tell me you want me to keep goin’?” 

You nod and he slaps you, a sharp strike that catches you by surprise.

“Stupid girl,” he says, scowling, and gripping your chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I decide when we’re done. The whole point of this was not to ruin ya. This ain’t a punishment. Well, it wasn’t. Might be, next time.” 

He stands up, shaking his head. “Dumb fuckin’ cunt.”

It hurts worse than the cane did. 

When he sees the heartbreak on your face, he sighs. “Ah, shit. Look, I know you’re just tryin’ to please me. But you’re makin’ me feel bad for tryin’ to be careful with ya. If I take it too far today, you won’t be able to take as much anymore. I ain’t breakin’ you.” 

You’re sobbing too hard to respond, but you don’t try to argue or struggle when he releases you. You crawl to lay kisses to the toes of his boots and nuzzle your cheek against them.

He sees it for the apology it is. 

v. parched to dust

This time, when Tommy Miller takes out his cock in front of you, you’re ready. And there’s no way in hell you’re disappointing Joel again, so you wrap your lips around him, not quite eagerly but with enough determination that no one could fault you.

When you drag the second consecutive orgasm from him, he tugs you away with a fist in your hair, panting and gasping. Joel swats his hand away and beckons you back to his lap. 

“ Jesus,” Tommy finally says, tucking himself back into his jeans. 

“Told ya it was just a bad day,” Joel snipes. 

“Sorry,” Tommy says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shoulda figured. It’s just… you’re a little soft for her, yeah?”

“Course I am. But I’m not soft on her.”

You know he loves you. You do. But hearing him admit that he’s soft for you makes your chest ache. 

“Got another surprise for ya, baby,” Joel says, rubbing his hand over your back. 

You’re overwhelmed. It’s not that he doesn’t give you things or do things for you; it’s that it’s never such a big deal. It just is . He takes care of you. That’s how this works. Not gifts and surprises. 

You bite your lip so you don’t question it, but he sees through you.

“Now I know you don’t remember. D’you even know what day it is?” 

“Saturday,” you say. “You’re home.” 

He shakes his head, but it’s betrayed by the smirk. “You’re right, baby. But what’s the date?”

You actually have to think for a minute. You hadn’t crossed off the calendar this morning like you usually did, and yesterday’s activities have you a little rattled. “It’s um, it’s August 19th?”

“That’s our anniversary, baby.”

Your brows scrunch as you try to think back. That’s not right. Your first date was in February. You moved in sometime early in June. You’re not sure what his metric is, but August doesn’t make sense. “Um. Are you… are you sure?” 

He doesn’t get mad like you thought he might. He just laughs. “Course, I’m sure, baby. It was the night we came home from your folks’. When you agreed to be mine.”

Your face heats. “I’m sorry—”

“Y’ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about, baby. I didn’t expect ya to remember. But you’ve been mine for two years now, and you’re still worried I ain’t gonna keep you. But I’ve been thinkin’, and I know how to prove it to you.” 

If this doesn’t convince you, he thinks, nothing will. Never mind that his whole goddamn life revolves around you. Never mind that you’ve worn his collar for the last 731 fuckin’ days. 

You’re busy wondering why he made you suck another man’s cock today if he cares about your anniversary. But then again, you’ve long accepted that what he wants won’t always make sense. It’s not your job to make it make sense. It’s just your job to do it. 

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs,” he says. 

You swallow hard around the sudden fear, and he laughs. 

“What? Had enough yesterday?”

“No, sir,” you say. It’s mostly the truth. Mostly. 

He shakes his head. “Not today. C’mon.”

Now that he moves, you follow. 

Tommy’s already in the basement, which almost gives you pause, if only because his movement startles you. 

Joel has you hop up on the padded table instead of the metal one, typically a sign that either you’re going to be here for a well-extended time or that he’s going to fuck you on it. 

Tommy’s setting things you don’t recognize out on the little cart, but you don’t try very hard to look. Looking makes your breathing get a little ragged, so you look at Joel instead. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, bending slightly to give you a kiss before he begins to slowly circle the table, fastening straps over your body. 

He’s left the dress on, which is weird, too, but you’re not complaining. It’s always a little chilly down here and even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re glad he’s not made you bare yourself completely in front of Tommy. 

It’s a lot of straps. You watch curiously, if not a little dazed, as he secures your ankles, thighs, stomach, chest both above and below your breasts, arms in three places, neck, and head. 

The one around your neck clips to your collar, not adding another band or choking you. But you’re unable to lift your head and neck at all. 

When he’s done with the strap across your forehead, he smooths away the worry lines that crease beneath it. 

“Just need ya to hold real still. You’re probably going to like this, but don’t fuckin’ come.”

“Yes, sir.” Your eyes are wide and worshipful as you wait for further commands. 

“Be real good for Tommy, okay?”

Your heart pounds in your throat, but you promise immediately. 

He hops up to sit on the spanking bench nearby. 

“Where first?” Tommy says. 

“Hip,” Joel says, settling in to watch. 

Tommy goes about his business and pulls the bottom halves of the table apart, wrenching your legs open slowly. He spreads them wide and slides a stool over, situating himself right up by your cunt, and flips the hem of your dress up over your belly button. 

You whimper and try to look at Joel for any indication of how you’re supposed to behave, but the restraints don’t allow enough wiggle room. 

Something cold smears across the front of your left hip, and, much to Joel’s surprise, you break. You’re still raw in more than one way from the previous day. 

“Please, sir,” you blurt, lip trembling and eyes squeezed tight. 

He hops down, brow furrowed, and comes closer, raising a hand to Tommy to pause him. 

He cups your face. “Please, what, baby?” His other hand rubs up and down your side. 

You force your eyes open to look at him, blurred through waiting tears. 

“Please, can I have a gag?” you say. Your eyes are scrunched, and fists clenched. 

He strokes his hand over your cheek. “‘Course you can. Good girl.”

The praise keeps you calm while he steps away. When he comes back, you open your mouth wide, and he settles it between your lips. 

You nearly cry in relief when you feel the little bulb press inside, not much different than the head of his cock. A few tears spill over when he leans down to kiss your forehead. 

“Atta girl, he says, pinching your chin before returning to his perch. 

The warmth of his touch lingers, and you let the pressure of the gag distract you from where Tommy starts to move again. You suck on it steadily, eyes fluttering shut when you feel the unmistakable scrape of a blade across your hip. 

Shaving. He’s shaving you. You can’t fathom why, with only peach fuzz reaching there. And you think maybe it’d be a cold day in hell before Joel let anyone shave your pubic hair. He liked it kept trimmed but not too neat. 

“I’m from the seventies, baby. Women’re supposed to have a nice healthy bush,” he had told you fairly early on when you were just dating. He hadn’t told you to stop shaving and waxing, but of course, you had. 

Warm water washes over the area with a washcloth not far behind. Tommy’s firm hand does a final sweep with something cold. 

“Alright, honey,” Tommy says, his voice almost seeming fond , “just hold still and be a good girl, okay?” 

As if you’d do anything else. 

You startle a little at the loud buzz that kicks up, and Tommy rubs gloves fingers over the opposite hip for just a moment. 

And then he gets to work. It hurts . But the pain clues you into what’s going on, and you come to the only logical conclusion: Joel’s having you tattooed. 

You start to cry, the feeling of being loved and owned overwhelming. You don’t hear Joel’s chuckle, buried as it gets under the gun in Tommy’s hands. 

You thought it was overly cautious of him earlier, to worry about you having an orgasm during anything involving Tommy. But you get it now. The pain itself is bearable, almost delicious, but the rush of euphoria in your veins from the mere concept is intoxicating. 

It goes on and on. Maybe it’s only half an hour. Maybe it’s four. The pain cycles, fading to a soothing heat before building back up to a scald. 

You don’t realize it’s over right away. The buzz of the gun plays on in your brain even when the room falls quiet. And Tommy’s doing something to it, probably wiping it down, but your skin still rages. 

Joel hops down and comes over to the side of your left leg. “Shit, that’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says to his brother. 

“Looks damn good. Hey, she’s got a real pretty pussy, huh?” He says, elbowing Joel. “S’funny, watchin’ her leak all over.”

Joel peers over, running a finger over your cunt, and laughs. “Knew you’d like that,” he says.

You whimper. 

He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo. “Want to see, baby?” He asks though he’s already turning the screen to you. 

The skin is red and irritated, but the ink takes your breath away. In shiny black, right there on your hip, sits a blocky “JM” surrounded by a circle. It looks like a fucking brand. 

Your eyes fly to his, whining desperately and praying he understands. A sly grin spreads across his face, and the tip of his middle finger traces oh so gently up your slit. 

“Come for me, baby,” he says, not bothering to touch you further. He knows you won’t need it. 

Vision blacking out, you writhe uselessly against the restraints as the pleasure batters through you. You’re only vaguely aware that the loud keening sound is coming from you, but it’ll register later when you feel the raw ache in your throat. 

Tommy whistles. “Sorry I doubted you, princess.”

You whine through the aftershocks, tears welling up again at the thought of the tattoo. You hope Tommy would leave so Joel will fuck you. 

Then you remember him asking, “Where first?” just as Tommy drags his stool around to the right side of your torso. 

Joel comes with him, rolling up his sleeves and tinkering with something on the cart. They both touch your arm a lot, fingers roving and adjusting you. You start to tune it out until Tommy lathers a spot on the inside of your wrist. 

Once it’s been shaved and cleaned, someone presses something against the spot for a moment. 

“Well?” Joel says. 

“Lines look clear to me,” Tommy says. He’s leaning close to your arm. 

Joel doesn’t walk away this time. As the gun kicks back to life, he stays with his hand resting on your upper arm, looming over Tommy’s shoulder. 

It’s easier this time, now that you know what to expect. It hurts, but you’ve had worse and probably will again. You’re feeling a bit too dizzy, though, when it finally stops. 

“This one’s for you to see,” Joel says, starting to unlatch the straps. He frees your arm first and then your head and neck, plus the gag. The ache makes itself known as soon as you shift a little. 

You peer immediately at your wrist, and a strange clenching tears through your chest. A few inches below your palm lays the dark outline of Joel’s thumbprint. 

“Oh,” you whisper, a strange tingling spreading through your limbs. “Oh.” 

“Knew you’d like it,” he says, lips curling into a smug smirk. 

Once you’re untethered, he peels your dress off so the fabric won’t brush against your hip. 

“There’s a protein bar and a bottle of water on the coffee table,” Joel says. “Go eat and wait by my chair.”

You’re swaying a little but he helps you down and makes sure you can stay on your feet before he removes his hands from your waist. 

You make your way upstairs in a daze. Truthfully, you don’t really remember it. When they come upstairs, you’re knelt in your place, wrapper and empty bottle on the table. 

“Good girl,” Joel says, lowering himself with a little groan into his recliner. He shifts around and pulls his cock out. “C’mere.”

You hop up immediately, and he takes you by the waist to help you settle where he’s fully hard already.

“Don’t move,” he says, to your great disappointment. “None of that,” he scolds at your pout. “It’s my turn. Just relax.”

Tommy sets the gun and equipment up to the side of the chair. You settle against Joel’s chest, snuggling in and resting your head on his shoulder so you can watch. 

Joel’s other hand, the one not waiting in place, comes up to cup the back of your head. He bends his head down to kiss where he can reach. “You’re being so good. Just a little bit more, and then you can take this cock.”

“Do not come on her tattoo, Joel,” Tommy says. 

Joel laughs, but Tommy smacks his arm. “I’m serious. It’ll fuck it up and probably infect it. Don’t fuckin’ do it.”

“I’ll wait ‘till it’s healed, don’t worry.”

You moan and clench around him at the idea, which only encourages his pleased chuckling. 

Tommy takes your hand, peeling it from where it rested against Joel’s chest, idly brushing through the hair there. You let him, letting it go limp and unresistant.

He presses your thumb against an ink pad and pushes it down on a piece of paper, rolling it carefully. He repeats the process a few times before he’s satisfied. Wiping it clean, he coats it one more time before pressing it against Joel’s wrist.  

You stare, rapt, as he traces the lines of your fingerprint onto Joel’s thick arm, framed by dark hair. It sits in parallel to the watch on his other wrist. 

“Where d’you want these?” Tommy says after he’s wrapped up and started to pack away the equipment. He’s holding the papers where they tested your print.

“The safes. One in each office,” Joel says. 

It’s weird, certainly, but so is Joel, so you don’t give it much thought. 

He’s cradling your face in his palm, looking at you with something so tender and ferocious that you can’t possibly look away. He thrusts up into you, his other hand tight on the hip opposite the tattoo.

It hurts, but, well, you don’t mind. 

The way he fucks you open now is slow, cruel after making you sit still for so long, but he’s savoring it. Savoring the way you can’t help but stare at him in worshipful bliss. It’s like a drug, the way his attention makes you hazy. He’s got you hooked, addicted, right where he wants you. His. 

Not a damn part of you that isn’t. 

The smirk curls across his face, and his hand curls around your neck, abandoning the gentle caress for something you both understand as love. You come on his cock when he tells you, every time he tells you, as he leaves you gasping and clutching his forearm, not prying him away but holding on as the room spins. 

When he fills you, he kisses you deeply, hand back around your throat as his mouth takes the rest of your air. You collapse against his chest when he lets go, and he holds you there with a smug, satiated smile and a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You doze in and out in his lap as he and Tommy share a bottle of bourbon. 

“Damn, I shoulda brought Daisy over. You haven’t had someone for her to play with in a while,” you hear Tommy say through the fog of your brain.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Joel says. His hand is scratching at your scalp and it feels so good you almost forget Tommy is talking.

“... my wife and your little pet—” he’s saying.

You don’t mean to open your eyes, but you catch his as soon as you do. He laughs. “Yeah, I got a wife. I’m not as mean as my brother, here.” 

You find that hard to believe, but also, you don’t really think of Joel as mean. He’s strict, sure, and he has high expectations. But he takes such good care of you, and you want for nothing. 

The phrase stirs something odd in your head. Do you want for nothing? Well, it’s at least partially true. You don’t want anything, not a thing you have or don’t have. You’re happy with whatever Joel gives. 

It’s probably the same thing. Besides, you wanted that career; you wanted to put on a face, a mask, and pretend to be someone who gave a shit about the company’s reputation. And you were wrong, so wrong. And Joel’s always been right. So what do you know about what you want?

Joel’s rumbling voice startles you a little where you’re tucked against his chest. “She was one ‘a mine, y’know,” he says to you. 

Tommy’s wearing a sly grin. “Yeah, until you scared the shit out of her,” he says, laughing. “Poor little thing didn’t know what to do with herself.” 

“She wasn’t like you,” Joel says. He waits as if he expects a reaction, but you don’t stir from your safe place in his arms. 

“Nah, not everyone’s as fucked up as y’all,” Tommy says. “I ain’t a sadist,” he says to you, a glint in his eye. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love puttin’ her in her place, but mostly, I just like havin’ my pretty little wife at home.” 

Joel’s watching you; you can feel the heft of his gaze. But you’re so blissed out, so calm right here in his lap, dripping his seed slowly around where his cock still fills you. 

“Would that bother you? Playin’ with a girl who used to be Joel’s?” Tommy goads.

You think about it for a moment. “She ever get his mark?”

Tommy grins, teeth like a shark. “Nope.”

You hum, unbothered, and nuzzle your cheek against Joel.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Knew you’d learn this time.” 

You gaze at his thumbprint on your arm. The cells around it will grow and die, but not his claim on you. 

It’s almost comforting, you think, that by the time that fades, there’ll be nothing left of you anyway. 

bonus: the art of breaking playlist

thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who asked for a part two and expressed love for the first. I will admit I am INCREDIBLY nervous to publish this both because it's kind of fucked up but also because so many of you loved the first part and I'm scared this won't live up to your expectations.

please, if you enjoyed this, let me know! soothe my anxiety lol. and if you don't want to publically do so, anon is always on.

i love you!

#dead dove fic #dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #dark fic #dddne #tw non con #READ THE WARNINGS #HEED THE WARNINGS #fic: the art of breaking

[teacheesee]

pleeeasseeee can i get some more luffy? i love how you write him 🥺

ive grown so used to you somehow - luffy x reader fluff

YESSSSS i forgot how to read and write but im back!!!

fluff, gn reader!! no warnings, just luffy being sweet af, same old same old

Ripples of hushed laughter slipped past your split lips as you tried your best to keep hushed, two warm bodies against the dark backdrop of the night. Nighttime at sea was always eerily dark, which made the stars stark in contrast to the seamless meeting of sky and sea. It was late, the sweltering summer day cooled pleasantly by the setting of the sun. Occasionally a warm breeze would threaten the flame burning in the lanterns holding the blanket down below you, but you didn’t pay it much mind.

“Even when I do this?” Luffy warped his face into some impossible expression, causing you to slap your hand across your mouth as you fought another laugh.

You were breathless as you nodded, “Yes, I still think you’re cute when you do that face.”

“Hey, come on, I wanna hear it!” he reached to pull your hand down before you slapped his arm in protest.

“Okay,” you whispered, “Seriously, stop, we’re gonna wake everyone up,” your tone was hushed buy the sincerity of your words dampened by the laughter cracking through. It didn’t help that his smile was so infectious, his face so warmed by the soft lantern light.

You both caught your breath, lungs exhausted from hours of laughing, and a deeper silence filled the space as it always has the tendency of doing.

You sighed, and as you looked back at Luffy to catch the traces of laughter residing in his eyes, you found he was looking right at you too, gaze unwavering.

You cocked your head, “What?” He mimicked your action, smiling as you saw eye-to-eye again.

“You’re so pretty!”

You lolled your head to the other side. “So are you!”

His smile cracked his face in two as he giggled, “I mean it!”

You sat up straight, and he followed, “What makes you say that now, though?” You didn’t realize that he’d scooted closer to you until he started speaking again.

“I always say it, don’t I?” He leaned a tad closer, bottom lip tucked into his lips, the smile never leaving.

“You do, but I’m wondering what exactly do I do that makes you say it?” He’s getting really very close now, you think.

“Hmm,” he makes a show of putting his fist on his chin, scrunching his eyebrows. You laugh, touching his forehead to make the faux frustration ease away.

“You do that!” He grabs your wrist and pulls it to rest in his hand, gently lacing his fingers with yours.

“Do what!?” Your eyes widen, searching desperately to understand what exactly he’s gunning for.

“Little stuff, like just now,” his thumb starts to rub circles into your hand, “you make me smile when you laugh, and how you like when I’m making stupid jokes,” he presses into your palm, a motion that calls you to look into his eyes, away from where he’s holding you.

“I just like being around you, and how you make me feel, and I like to look at you while you do those things. You make me better.”

The heat in your cheeks is enough to tell you that you’re blushing like crazy and, with a sweltering smile, you look away.

a/n HELLO thank you for the request sm i loved writing this it was so damn cute!!! please send in more ideas and i will try my best to fulfill them! sorry for falling off the face of the earth (one year closer to my bachelors degree) 😼🏄‍♀️💪

ALSO title from the lyrics of “lovesick blues” by hank williams hehehe

#luffy x reader #luffy #luffydmonkey #luffy fanart #mugiwara no luffy #straw hat luffy #gear 5 luffy #one piece luffy #one piece #one piece zoro #ronoroa zoro #zoro x luffy #monkey d. luffy #op luffy #with: luffy

[rojacatmisa]

Starting over In Madrid

Chapter 6 : Paris est magique

tw : may content explicit sex, +18 This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one.

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

Chapter 1 ➤ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➤ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➤ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➤ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➤ Valleys and peaks

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me. 

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ? 

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened. 

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate. 

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us. 

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break. 

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women,  getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up. 

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them. 

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted. 

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left. 

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted. 

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path. 

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked. 

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting. 

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench. 

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view at the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet. 

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious. 

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…" 

Hayley put out her brand new camera  "I think it’s cute"  she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us. 

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves. 

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me. 

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !" 

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat row under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage. 

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French players dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area. 

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense. 

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team. 

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.   

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew again to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent. 

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed. 

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.  

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !" 

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready". 

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders. 

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor. 

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally. 

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer. 

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.  

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me. 

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.  

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her. 

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like butterflies on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd. 

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance  "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side. 

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked. 

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris. 

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features. 

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people. 

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.  

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other. 

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered. 

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore. 

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning. 

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women". 

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !". 

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!". 

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment. 

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame. 

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered. 

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well". 

"God sake, Hayley…" 

*** 

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity. 

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance. 

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I  brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain. 

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift. 

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside. 

"Perdon Nicky !"  Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !" 

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved. 

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again. 

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again. 

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her. 

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump. 

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible. 

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach. 

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.  

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant. 

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down. 

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want. 

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm. 

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss. 

I exhaled and rested aigainst her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth. 

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head an put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer. 

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish wimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full. 

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel. 

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had felt asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #misa rodriguez #woso x reader #woso fanfics #misa rodriguez x reader #fanfic #x reader #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #misa x reader #x original character #x oc #x female reader #misa rodriguez x oc #woso blurbs #woso smut #futbolista #spain wnt #espwnt #futfem #fanfic art #misa rodriguez fanfic #woso soccer

[vigsilantes]

coffee and hair dye (adrian chase x gn reader)

Pairing: Adrian Chase / Vigilante x GN Reader Summary: You’re dying your hair to match your suit color and Adrian wants you dye a bit of his hair to match yours. Word Count: 3.1k Tags: established relationship, reader-insert, gender-neutral pronouns, post-canon, idiots in love, mild smut, domestic fluff, comfort, fluff and smut A/N: this was inspired by Nadja and Laszlo and their matching hair from what we do in the shadows if you know what i’m referencing ily

~masterlist~ | >>>(read on ao3)<<<

Last night’s supposed "small" mission turned into a rather difficult and tiring one. Nothing went wrong, but the targets were far more skilled than research proved, and they kicked your asses. Then you guys kicked their asses. Though it was a rather fast fight, and you won, you all were roughed up and totally depleted. The complicated night prompted Emilia to generously give everyone the next night off. Well, all the bickering and complaining by the team in the van prompted Emilia to give the night off. And that bickering was worth it because you and Adrian finally have a night off together, you both haven’t had one in a very long time. Though you two were quite beaten up from the mission, you planned to make the best of it.

After sleeping until 11, you and Adrian felt the urge to get out of bed. He was making it hard to leave bed though, as his whole body was wrapped around yours, and his head was nuzzled perfectly in the back of your neck. Fortunately, it’s Saturday, you already had the day off from work. However, Adrian wasn’t so lucky and in fact had to go to Fennel Fields in a few hours.

You sigh, “I think we should get out of bed; you have work, maybe you can shower, and I’ll make us coffee?” you suggest. Adrian hummed into your neck.

“Babe,” he paused, his voice still raspy from sleep. He groaned as he lifted his arm away from you to grab his phone from the nightstand. He tapped the screen and put his phone to his ear, “I am not leaving this bed,” he raised his brows, you blushed while you turned over to fully face him. After a pause his eyes light up and he slightly cleared his throat, “Hey, this is Adrian, sorry, I won’t be able to make it today, I woke up with a horrible cold,” he adds in a few fake coughs, then slyly smiles, “I’ve thrown up a bunchhh too so, yeah… yup, thanks, bye!” He tapped his phone and gave you a wicked grin, you bit your lip.

“Okay, yeah, I’m glad you did that. I didn’t want us to get up right now either,” he kissed your forehead, “and you’re keeping me warm so, if you left, or we got up, I would be way too cold.”

“See now, we couldn’t let that happen,” Adrian purred and pulled you closer into his chest, you could feel the heat radiating off of him, you snuggle into it, “how are you feeling?” he asked, while gently twirling your hair through his fingers. You took a second to actually see how you felt, your body was tired but nothing really more than that was wrong.

“All right, achy everywhere though, I feel bruises already I think, you?” you look up at him, he meets your gaze, eyes still looking tired, he nods his head.

“I think I’m the same but,” he let out a deep huff, “I feel so relieved that I called out, so I’m not even thinking about the bruising my body is doing right now… Babe," he paused and a playful smile grew across his face, "we have a day off together!” You gasped, it’s been forever since you guys had a whole entire day off together, it only really happens when you get injured from missions, but you guys aren’t in too bad of shape from last night, it was a win-win.

“Waitttt we have to have some fun today, should we plan something, or should we not plan something and just see what happens today?” you ponder, he chuckles. “Oh, and since we both have time this morning, could you please help me re-dye my hair?” you smile and blink up at him.

“Of courseeeee, I love helping you do your hair! I am honored that you would like my help, babe.” Adrian beamed and your cheeks turned red at his smile. “Plus, you look so badass when you just dyed your hair like it’s so bright and, well… not that right now your hair isn’t badass, but,” he sighs, “you know what I mean, babe.” Before he could keep talking, you cupped his face with your palm, he smiled into your hand.

“Thanks, Ade. And I’m honored that you like helping me,” you replied. “Should I maybe go a little crazy and match the purple in my suit again? The pink that I have now could easily change into it… Ooh, yea, I’m going back to purple,” you state, Adrian was nodding his head enthusiastically.

“YES, babe it’s so hottt when your hair matches your suit, great idea!” he said, eyes wide.

“Thank you, thank you, now I'm definitely doing purple,” you lean up to peck Adrian on the lips, he returns the kiss with his tongue, which caused you to breath out a moan, he pulled you into his chest, his hand crawling up your back. You couldn’t resist moving one hand up to his head so you could run your fingers through his dark hair, the other hand gently scratching his bare back. You try to briefly pull away from him, but he doesn't let you until he gets in one more deep kiss, then he barely seperates himself from you, your lips brushing his.

“Instead of fucking right now, which I really want to do, I need to dye my hair early in the day, or I’ll never get it all done,” you pause, he groans in protest as he kisses your neck, “how about… you can fuck my brains out after my hair is purple?” you question, nudging his chin up so you could meet his eyes.

“Hmmm,” he goes in for another long kiss that made you shiver, then he slowly pulls away, “I guess you’re right, let’s be productive,” he paused to play with your hair once more, his green eyes lighting up from the morning sun. As he met your gaze, you saw something shift in his eyes, “but only if you dye some of my hair to match yours.” Adrian firmly states, voice deep, he was almost using his Vigilante voice. You couldn’t help the smile that grew onto your face, thinking about him with dyed hair. And then you really couldn’t help how turned on you were at the thought of his hair matching yours-and your suit. Heat immediately ran to your cheeks.

“Oh absolutely, fuck, let’s do it right now,” you twirl a strand of his hair, “that’s gonna be so fucking hot.” You kiss again before you both hype yourselves up to slink out of your cozy, toasty, bed.

“I’ll make us coffee while you get the dye stuff ready, babe!” Adrian stated, as you went to the bathroom to mix together some bleach and take stock of your purple dye-you luckily had plenty of purple left over from the last time you matched your suit, all you needed to do was mix a bit of blue to make it a perfect color match. You made a little extra bleach for Adrian, and you felt a bit giddy while picturing him having dyed hair, he has never ever done any kind of coloring to his beautiful dark hair, so you won’t do a lot, just a few strands under the back of his head. Just then, you heard the beep of your record player turning on and a moment later, “I Saw Her Standing There” by The Beatles began faintly playing, he threw on his Please Please Me record. You grinned; he always picks the best music.

“Perfect music choice honey,” you yell out to him as you stir the bleach with the brush. As you’re mixing, Adrian walks in with two cups of iced coffee, you both prefer iced over hot, and Adrian has mastered making lattes at home with a fancy coffee machine.

“Here you are, my love, order up,” he smiles as he hands you your glass, you take a sip and start slowly nodding your head in approval.

“Mwah it's perfect, thanks babe, I love having my own little at home barista,” you admit, the compliment caused him to blush. “Okay, I can start my roots, and all I’ll need help with is the back, and then I can do a bit of yours,” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Can’t wait, I’ll just enjoy the view while I sip on my coffee,” he hummed while smiling. All you were wearing was his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, it just became a habit for you to steal his shirts, and that then lead to his boxers, and he doesn’t mind one little bit…if anything he encourages it. He eyed you up and down with feline eyes. Your cheeks turned rosy as you began sectioning your hair, preparing it for the bleach. You then threw on some gloves and got to work. Bliss fell over you while you listened to Adrian hum and sing to the music as you did your hair. It just made your heart feel warm. After a few minutes, you got to the back part of your head that was hard to see.

“All righty babe,” you turn to look at him, his eyes lit up.

“Yay okay let’s do this!” he clapped his hands and then put on a pair of gloves as well. With the brush in one hand, and his other hand helping to part your hair, he went in, and painted the bleach on the back of your head.

He always loves to help, and you really appreciate it because he’s really good at dying your hair. You enjoyed staring in the mirror to watch how concentrated he was, he was truly getting into it.

After a song or so he met your eyes in the mirror, you beamed. “And that’s that, babe, thanks for coming to my coffee-salon,” Adrian joked, you broke into a laugh, he chuckled as well.

“Pleaseeee, thank you for having me,” you turn around to press a kiss on his cheek, “but now, it’s my salon,” you firmly state, narrowing your brows, Adrian’s face turned bright red, but his eyes were fiercely watching yours.

“Oooh fuck yeah!” He exclaims, handing you the brush and cup of bleach, “this is gonna be so hot, but,” he bent down a bit as if to whisper, “it won’t be too much of my hair though, right?” he softly questions, you chuckle as you swap places with him.

“No babe, don’t worry,” you confirm, as you lean up and start to untangle a small part of hair on the back of his head, angling his head to make him look down so you could section it. You started making a section almost like an undercut, but just a small little square of hair. “I’ll just do this much, barely even a whole handful,” you show him in the mirror. “Your other hair will cover it and it’ll peak through-”

“YESS, that will look so fucking cool, I am so ready!” He squealed, you grinned as you part his hair and use one of your hair clips to keep his other hair out of the way. You then mixed the bleach one more time before applying it to his head, making an even layer on his dark hair.

It barely took one song to do all of it, but you finished applying the bleach, and to your surprise, his virgin hair was already taking to the bleach.

“Now we wait,” you step to stand next to him, the smile that was on his face was priceless. You then begin cleaning up the small mess you made in the bathroom, Adrian held up the trash can for you to throw your bleached gloves in and you start wiping up the counter. With one look in the mirror, you could tell your hair was already almost done, your roots weren’t too dark in the first place. His dark hair will probably take a bit longer. However, as you start cleaning, you noticed how much the bathroom needed more of a clean, so you take a breath and begin. You and Adrian sang along to the music as you cleaned, flipping the record shortly into your clean. You guys got into a rhythm and ended up tidying up more than either one of you intended to. You huffed, and Adrian caught your eye. “Well shit it looks great in here,” you say, smiling, he looked around the room.

“It really does! I don’t know what ghost possessed us to do that but I’m glad it happened,” Adrian joked, you nodded, chuckling. You step closer to Adrian and gently move his head so you can check his hair, it was blonde! A glance in the mirror told you your hair was ready to wash too.

“Well, apparently we cleaned long enough for the bleach to work, let’s wash, you first!” You say, he nods, eyes widening from excitement. He sets his glasses on the sink then bends down to kneel in front the tub with his head over the drain. Luckily your shower was a handheld one, so you took it off the mount and hover over him to begin washing his hair. He giggles as your fingers begin gently massaging his scalp and after swishing water through his hair, the bleach had washed out. You shut the shower and grab a towel for Adrian, his whole head got wet. You wrap the towel and tuck it in so it can firmly stay on his head to dry his hair. “It looks great blonde, honey.” You tell him.

“I can’t fucking wait to see it all finished, babe,” Adrian replied, you smiled as you two swapped places so he could help wash your hair. Adrian threw his glasses back on then began gently massaging your scalp, you hummed in content. “Aaannndddd done,” he said after a minute of washing, shutting the faucet and squeezing the water from your hair before placing a towel around your head. You properly wrap it and turn around to Adrian.

After drying your hair with the blow dryer, you repeat the dying process but with the mixed purple dye. Adrian’s handful of hair didn’t take long to color, then he ended up doing your whole head, teamwork makes the dreamwork! Once he declares your head is done, you both notice how hungry you are.

“Breakfast?” you asked, Adrian pursed his lips. Your stomach almost instantly growled at the thought of a meal. When you got home from the mission last night, though you weren’t beaten up too badly, you were still in pain, it was a miracle you guys didn’t pass out in your suits in bed, so yeah, you could both eat. He nods his head frantically. “Eggs and waffles?” You question.

“Let’s-a-go!” Adrian said in an Italian accent as he pumped his fist in the air, you cackle, what a dork. He leads the way to the kitchen and starts getting the eggs and the cheese from the fridge and waffles from the freezer. You notice that the music stopped, so before helping begin breakfast, you put on a different Beatles record and place the needle on. You hear a "Thanks, babe!" from Adrian as you enter the kitchen.

You two seamlessly make breakfast, splitting up tasks between you both. After a few short minutes, you had cheesy scrambled eggs and waffles, and while sitting at your small kitchen table, you shared breakfast with Adrian. It only took a few minutes to eat, but right as you finished your last forkful of eggs, you looked at your hair in your phone’s camera to see the dye showing through, it was time to wash!

You hum as you stand up and check the back of Adrian’s head, it already looks amazing, “Babe, let’s go washhhh,” you say, wavering your voice, he gasps.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Adrian exclaimed as he also stood up, you two began walking to the bathroom. You go right to the tub to turn on the shower and when you turn around you see Adrian, still shirtless, waiting like an excited puppy. You repeated the washing process for the last time, thank God, and began towel drying each other’s hair. Adrian was the first to get to the mirror, his hair has already practically dried, and even by slightly turning his head to the side he could see the streak of purple amongst his dark hair. He gasped. You grabbed the small mirror off the sink counter and held it up to the back of his head so he could get a proper view, all the while you were staring at his colored hair.

“Fucking hell, Ade, you look so hot with purple hair,” you say, gawking at him. His eyes were wide as he took in his hair in the mirrors, and you noticed that the purple in his hair complimented his green eyes beautifully. “I’m so glad your hair took to the dye!”

“Shit, me too, it looks, so fucking sick babe, I am so happy right now,” Adrian beams, turning to you, “thank you for helping me look more badass, babe.” He leaned down to press his lips to yours, you deeply return the kiss. He pulled away only a few inches, you felt his breath on your ear. “I may look a little more badass, but fuck-babe, you…you.” his voice lowered, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.” You gasped, he started playing with your hair in one hand, then he slides his other hand down your lower back. Adrian moved in fast and started kissing your neck.

“God, I-” He cut you off by moving his kisses up your neck, and farther up to meet your lips. You were honestly glad he interrupted you, you had nothing to say other than the moan that managed to escape from you. You were instantly on him, running your fingers through his hair and caressing his face. He hoisted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

The two of you barely separated your lips, only for an occasional moan or swear from either of you. After a few moments, while still holding you, he moved you two to your bed, planting himself on top of you, putting his whole weight on you. You felt his boner immediately, you melted into him even more as heat ran to your cheeks. His hands were all over you, and you felt ravenous as your hands touched him.

It pained you but you had to pull away to say, “I should dye your hair more often.” All you heard in response was a deep belly laugh that erupted out of him-fuck you love him.

“I won’t say no to tha-” you didn’t let him finish speaking before leaning up and crashing your lips to his. The smile on his face faded the more he kissed you, he quickly became feral as he reciprocated your initial kiss, and more.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #dcu #freddie stroma #vigilante #adrian chase fic #idiots in love #ao3 #hair dye #domestic fluff #light smut

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 16

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

best friend, baby by @ghosttotheparty*

“You— You make me feel so… good,” he finishes lamely, his head void of any words that could describe it, because how can Will describe the peace he finds in Nico’s presence, or the way he feels like he can finally breathe whenever Nico looks into his eyes? “You’re my favourite person,” he breathes. “My best friend.”

hooooooo boy the intimacy tag was NOT joking. i was gagged. yall tell me all the time how high u value will angst and like....this one DEVASTATED me for him??? like do yall ever think about how the first dialogue we hear from will in nico's perspective is self-loathing. yall ever think about how nico has always known him hating himself. well this author did. "i know you hate yourself but just because you hate yourself doesnt mean everyone else does too" hey what if we FOUGHT. also im going back in to all my FRFs to star my FAVE FAVE FAVE fics bc this is one of them LET ME TELL YOU.

2. just a dumb game by @ghosttotheparty

Nico di Angelo is not a party person. But Will Solace is going to be there. So.

they are SO FUCKING GAY and SO FUCKING IN LOVE and SO FUCKING STUPID. god i love them so fucking bad like they are inherently down bad obsessed with each other and this is how they should be. this is the way of the world.

3. even in the silver light by @ghosttotheparty

Nico is back. Will is still smitten.

first of all. latino and nb will. thank you. second of all. i am (obviously) obsessed with this author bc they KILLLLLL w burning intimacy. like you have no idea they write them like there is a twice burning fire only alive within them it's CRAZZZYYY. i also fckn LOVE that this is like. okay so the author says its plotless and it is kind of 45k of plotless, yes, but idk theres something to be said of love as a plot?? of learning and loving each other as a storyline.

4. splash by @ghosttotheparty

Annabeth is reading her favourite book. Someone walks directly into her.

yeah okay i think this is another one author week. sue me. this fic made me GRIN okay. it was so fucking cute and sweet and soft and autistic annabeth my beloved!! my love and light!! they are so in love in every universe fr and i fckn LOVE them dude i am OBSESSED. when this author writes people together it's as if you can hear them click.

5. isnt she lovely by @ghosttotheparty

Their eyes always meet in the halls. Her eyes are grey and shiny, and they make Percy think of stormy skies and marble sculptures. (She could be a marble sculpture, in the entrance of a museum, surrounded by scholars and artists and mesmerised passersby. Fucking beautiful in a way that only art ever is.) - - - Percy has had a crush on Annabeth since eighth grade. (He doesn’t know she likes him too.)

percy hitting the ground when annabeth kisses him 😭😭 HES SO REAL. i just recced this fic on instagram and i am here reccing it again bc it is EXCELLENT. i rly rly love to see pjotv percabeth in fic like i DO. theyre so fucking cute. and i LOVE how this author writes autistic annabeth!! it is so important to me!!! and this one is so CUTE like percy had such a huge crush on him.....like not just he liked her he had a CRUSH on her. god. i am melting.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

#i dont have an excuse for how late this is im sorry i fell asleep at Seven Fucking PM Last Night #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackson/annabeth chase #percy/annabeth #annabeth/percy #percabeth #pjotv #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #solangelo #will solace angst #latino will solace #non binary will solace #autistic annabeth chase #fic rec #fic rec friday #FRF #longpost

[chickycherrycola]

perfect

Happy SoMa Day to all who celebrate! A national holiday, as far as I'm concerned 😋I offer a fluffy, bite-sized little ficlet as my contribution, which features some of my favorite Soma tropes - grumpy Soul, domestic fluff, accidental cuteness, and BREAKFAST - all in less than 1k words!

Read it on AO3, or under the cut in its entirety!

-

“You’ll feel better once you have some food in you.”

Soul knows she’s right–Maka is almost always right, not that he’d willingly admit it–but still, he’s choosing to gripe about it.

He gripes about it all the way from his motorcycle to the glass entry doors of the restaurant, through the tightening of his meister’s grip on his wrist, until they're sliding into plush, squeaky booth seats and the hostess is shoving menus into their hands with a stifled smirk.

He bitches a little less, however, when his eyes fall upon the wide selection of food items displayed on the pages of said menus, as he flips through the smorgasbord of breakfast offerings. Banana nut pancakes and huevos rancheros, Belgian waffles and eggs benedict florentine. This place has every breakfast delicacy under the sun.

Unfortunately, the rest of the population of this po-dunk little Midwestern town must know this, too, as the restaurant is packed, and harbors every social annoyance under the sun as well. 

Screaming toddlers. Middle-aged brunchers clinking their glasses of mimosa too loudly. Elderly couples staring at him obviously, their expressions aghast with horror. A crowd of servers gathered around a nearby table, presenting a young girl with a stack of birthday pancakes as they sing to her. 

His head hurts, they got back to their hotel room after the mission way too late, and he’s running on a less-than-optimal amount of sleep. He wants to shovel a giant plate of scrambled eggs and bacon into his face and then promptly crash into the nearest sleep-able surface.

Soul groans and lets his head fall to the table, his forehead meeting wood with a heavy thunk. Moments later, there’s the all-too-familiar sensation of a pinch to his ear. 

“You’re such a grump,” Maka giggles.

“I’m allowed.”

“Never said you weren’t,” she replies. He waits for her to continue berating him–’sit up straight already’ or ‘stop breathing on the table, it’s disgusting’- but she doesn’t. He rolls his head around, angling his eyes up to look at her, and finds her attention focused elsewhere.

“Isn’t this place just the cutest?” she muses. “I love the décor. It’s so cozy and welcoming.”

She’s gazing out at the room beyond, a twinkle of delight in her eyes as she takes it all in. Soul notices, too, for the first time–opposite them is a flickering fireplace framed by a brick hearth, and whimsical works of modern art hang upon every wall. Strategically placed ivy plants bring some color to the dining room, their jade-green, star-shaped leaves cascading down in long, elegant tendrils. 

And on the wall of the booth they’re presently seated at, a lushly textured panel of artificial greenery. Maka’s flaxen head contrasts nicely against the darker shade, and–it would make for a lovely photo backdrop. 

“Hey.” He sits up, suddenly feeling invigorated, and reaches a hand into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone. “Smile for me real quick?”

Maka blinks at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you… are you taking a picture of me?”

“No, I’m checking the weather for our flight home later,” Soul deadpans. In response, Maka sticks her tongue out at him and wrinkles her nose in an exaggerated grimace. Soul shrugs and hits the camera button, forever immortalizing the moment on digital film, and Maka blanches when she realizes he’s snapped a photo. 

“H-Hey! Delete that!”

“No.”

“W-Well, take another one at least–”

“Pose nicely, then.”

Maka pouts, her cheeks visibly flushed and her brows cinched together, but before he can get that expression on film, she composes herself–adjusts her pigtails and straightens her spine, schools her face into a pleasant, soft smile. Soul lines her up in the viewfinder of his camera app, and–

Snap. 

He examines the photo for several minutes, eyes darting between his meister and the image of her on his phone screen, before nodding subtly to himself. 

“Well? How do I look?”

“Perfect.”

His fingers tap, tap, tap away as he uploads the picture to his story, witty caption and all–’She dragged me to a bougie brunch place instead of letting me sleep in’- and doesn’t realize Maka has fallen silent until he’s hit the post button. 

When he puts his phone down and looks at her once again, she's staring at him with a strange expression on her face, her bottom lip between her teeth and her cheeks a shade of scarlet nearly rivaling his eyes. 

“What?” he asks. 

Maka clears her throat, runs a nervous finger idly around one of her pigtails and looks down at her lap. 

“N-Nothing.”

At that moment, his phone pings–a reply to his story post from Black Star. 

“Bro, you’re such a sap.”

#soul eater #soul x maka #SoMa Day #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul eater fanfiction #cherry writes #fluff #ficlet #one shot #writers on tumblr #ao3 fanfic

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

The Silver Lining

(A/N- Ah yes, Donna, I love her so much)

RL! Donna Beneviento x FEM! Reader

(Warning: Swearing, smut, grinding, and of course face sitting)

When people think of memorable duos, some people think of Bonnie and Clyde or Sherlock and Watson but the first thing you think of is you and Donna. The friendship y’all formed is an unbreakable bond that no one can take away. The both of you are so lucky to have each other, no matter what you or her are struggling with, the other is always there to support and help every step of the way.

It was one of those times again, one of those days when you needed her. You look at your phone in shock when you read the short text message your partner had sent. They broke up with you, not only that but to make matters worse they confessed to cheating on you with one of your friends. You were so confused and lost, the first thing you thought to do was to call your best friend, Donna Beneviento.

With tears dwelling in your eyes and threatening to spill out you dial her number. She surprisingly answered quickly, the shop must be slower than usual today. “Hello?” Donna’s soft voice greeted your ears.

“Hey Donna, could you please come over to my house, something happened and I really need you here.”

Donna's eyes widened when she heard your voice crack just like when you’re crying. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?!” she frantically questioned, her voice slightly raised out of panic and confusion. She can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.

“No no, I’m okay, physically at least.” You admitted, feeling a little selfish for dragging her out of her work just for your comfort.

“Hm I’ll be right there, stay put dear.”

The beeping sound of the hung up phone went on as the last word Donna spoke ran around your head. Dear? She would always call you pet names, nothing unusual for you two but for some reason the sweet name warmed you up inside. It was a strange feeling.

*Knock knock knock knock*

A familiar knocking sound banged on your door; you already knew it was Donna. You got up to let her in and there you saw Donna’s worried expression plastered on her face. “Come in.”

You lead her to your bedroom since that’s where you both usually hang out together and plus it just felt right at this moment. Taking a seat on the bed, she sits next to you as you explain the whole situation. Donna can feel her blood boil with anger and disgust, “Those fucking bitches, how could they?” She muttered under her breath. She never did like your partner but this made her dislike for them turn into a deep hatred.

Although underneath all that hatred, she felt kinda glad. Glad that you’re finally free now, Donna has always had a huge crush on you, it was obvious to everyone except you, but when you first started dating your partner she was hurt. You were the one that got away, at least she thought, but now she still has a chance.

Donna takes a deep breath before speaking, calming her nerves down. “Don’t waste your energy on dumb bitches like that, they don’t deserve you. You deserve someone better.” She tells you with certainty before her voice drops to a whisper, “Someone like me.”

Your tearful eyes widened at those last words, looking at her to see if she really meant it, but she was avoiding eye contact and her face turned red with embarrassment. “Do you really mean it? Like for real?” You questioned softly.

Silence filled the room for a moment before Donna finally developed the courage to confess, “Yes, I do. I’ve had a small..crush..on you for a long time. I was just afraid to tell you.” Her face somehow managed to get even redder.

“Why..do you like me like that? What is it about me?” Asking in disbelief, Donna is your best friend and you never expected her to have feelings for you out of all people. Honestly you didn’t know how to feel, different emotions are coming at you left and right, it’s natural to be confused like this.

“Well..first off, your stunning personality and smile lights up my world. It makes my entire day, really. Not to mention your looks.” Donna admitted, fidgeting with her hands, not knowing what to do with them, in which you suddenly take her hand in your own. Leaning forward to kiss her, you’re not sure what you’re doing but you just let your body take control.

To your surprise, she kissed back, you would think that Donna would just be standing there frozen due to shyness though that’s not the case right now. She places one hand on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds but it felt like minutes until she pulled away. “S-sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” She breathed out, and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around her waist, connecting your lips to hers. This time instead of a soft kiss, it was a much deeper one. Donna was surprised that you took the initiative though she definitely wasn’t complaining. Although, she pulled away again, but this time not out of uncertainty.

“Let me take good care of you, tesoro, way better than they ever could.” Donna confidently said, also asking for consent to continue on further with what will soon to be the best experience of your life.

You gave her a small sound of approval and Donna placed her hand on the side of your face, her thumb almost touching your lips. “No tesoro, I wanna hear you say it.” She smirked at your expression. You never saw Donna act this way before but goddamn she looked so fine right now.

“Take good care of me, I want you right now Donna.” You said seductively, making her blush deeper across her cheeks while she carefully pulled you onto her lap.

“That’s all you needed to say.” Her words made your heart warm, who knew Donna could be so bold. She placed a soft kiss on your lips, letting it linger there while she littered kisses down your neck, nipping at it a little. The increasing anticipation made you want more, you couldn’t help but grind your clothed core on her lap.

Donna's lips stayed on your neck, her hands grabbing your hips to move you a little to the side, positioning your core on her thigh. With her hands resting on your hips you continued your movements, grinding and grinding, sending friction to your clit, ripping a small moan out of you.

“Damn- that feels good. So good.” You moan out quietly, praising Donna’s actions. The praise sent shivers down her spine and made her heartbeat increase. She always adored every compliment you would give her.

“Mm I can’t wait to taste you. Especially that sweetness I know you’ll produce.” She tugs on the hem of your bottoms, prompting you to lift up and swiftly take off everything from your waist down.

She lays herself down on the bed, patiently waiting. You climbed on top of her and straddled yourself onto her stomach, “Are you sure about this?”

Donna smiled at your thoughtful question, “I’m positive.” She said encouragingly, putting your doubts at ease. You move up with knees on either side of Donna’s head, you can see her smile before she takes her hands and makes you sit down all the way. Before you knew it she was already getting to work.

Your hands tangled in her hair as you started to experience waves of pleasure. Donna’s hands grabbed your thighs, forcing you to stay still when you began to squirm. You gave her a pleading look in hopes that she’ll have mercy and let you grind on her face. In response she smiled in your cunt.

“Just let me do all the work darling.” She mumbles the almost inaudible words against your clit, shooting vibrations to the sensitive nerve. The action made your back arch and your stomach getting an unfamiliar sensation. Donna knew you were getting close so she quickened her skilled movements.

The pleasure you felt was almost unbearable; a few tears slipped from your eyes out of utter pure pleasure as your climax hit you full force. Donna’s movements slowed and rubbed small circles in your hips as your muscles relaxed. Once you caught your breath you moved off her, thighs still trembling. Donna sits up and gestures to you to sit next to her.

“Damn I didn’t know you had all that in you.” You teased, making her blush and look away bashfully.

“Mm yeah, let’s rest up I know you need it.” Donna retorted while also changing the subject; you laid down while she kicked off her shoes and took off her gloves. She settled down next to you as you snuggled up closer to her, whispering a small thank you.

“No need to thank me, I won’t let anyone, especially those bastards, break your heart again, I promise.”

Masterlist

#resident lover fanfiction #resident lover #resident lover donna #donna beneviento #donna beneviento smut #donna beneviento x reader #donna x reader

[traffic-was-a-b1tch]

anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: sweet jake (but still cocky ofc ;)), cursing, talk of the incident in chapter three, a “touch her and you’ll die” comment from jake 😫, let me know if I missed any!

author’s note: hey guys! THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH for the comments and love for my series as it’s progressing! i’m starting a tag list per request so please comment if you would like to be added! as always, please feel free to give me feedback, requests, comments, etc. enjoy!!!!

• • •

Chapter Four:

you woke up in a strange place.

it wasn’t your room, that’s for sure.

your eyes adjusted and scanned your surroundings with tired eyes. you were wrapped in black bedsheets on a very comfortable bed with a nightstand next to it. there was only mood lighting on, which left an amber glow through the room.

across on the wall was a tv, various band posters, and a clock that read 2:43 am.

you slowly sat up, the change in position making your body flare with pain. your arm was sore, as well as your chest, and there was a sharp pain in your temples. you touched your aching skin, remembering what happened. you tried to shake it all from your memory.

“oh fuck, you’re awake.”

in the doorway, stood jake. he was in a black ramones shirt and sweatpants, carrying a mug and a plate.

he came to your side of the bed, placed the cup and plate down, and looked at you.

“how are you feeling?”

he was caring, soft in his question. definitely not a side of him you ever expected to see. his eyes were sad as he locked in on the bruise that dyed your arm.

“i’m”, you took a deep breath, “well I don’t really know right now.”

he nodded, “that’s understandable.”

he sat on the bed and took a breath, “who the hell was that?”

“my ex-fiancé. he’s been upset ever since I broke up with him a few days before graduation”, you looked away.

“what happened between you?”, he backtracked, “I mean you don’t have to tell me but i’m just a little curious.”

your mouth flashed a small smile; he was starting to soften.

“well let’s just say, he wanted things that I didn’t.”

you weren’t going to get into the fact that he abused you for a year and trapped you in an engagement.

he looked like he understood, like he had been in the same place before. you wondered if that was his ‘move’ with girls, or if he really was connecting with you on some level.

“that’s awful. i’m so sorry that this happened to you”, he placed a hand on yours.

you both took a breath. the energy sparking at your fingertips. you looked up to meet jake’s eyes.

god, you forgot how beautiful he was.

it was like magnets. like electricity flowing through both of us, pulling us together. could he feel this? did he feel you like you were starting to feel him?

he realized and moved his hand, standing up with a slight laugh and smile.

“I, uh, brought you some toast and juice just in case you woke up hungry.” he rubbed his hands together and turned, “so, i’ll leave you to get your rest then.”

you realized then that it was 2 am and quiet.

“where’s the band?”

he looked back and leaned up against the wall. “oh yeah. I cancelled practice for tonight”, he saw you smirk in his peripheral vision, “but tomorrow’s practice is still on.”

his tone was semi-annoyed.

“just admit it”, you prodded, “you can be flexible. why don’t you practice in the day like normal people?” you really did want to know that.

“well, missy”, he began.

his tone ignited a growing fire between your legs. fuck, you wanted him.

he continued, “it’s because we all have jobs and money to make. you think we get all these badass guitars and speakers with daddy’s money? we’ve put in a hell of a lot of work into making our dream a reality. besides, once we hit it big, you won’t have to worry about hearing our music from next door”, he leaned his hands down onto the bed, coming close, “because we’ll be on the radio.”

his hair fell perfectly in front of his face, rich brown and wavy.

you still couldn’t believe how hot he was.

you two were close. very close. you could almost feel his breath on your cheek. you swallowed thickly, trying to hold onto your composure.

he smirked and backed away, starting out of the room. but you couldn’t let him leave without asking him the one thing on your mind.

“why did you do that?���

you couldn’t help that you were curious.

“do what?”

“punch tanner”, you explained, “I mean, you didn’t have to help me. you could’ve just ignored the sounds in the hall and chalk it up to someone else’s problem.”

his eyes were serious as he lingered for a second to look at you. he took a breath, his mouth biting the inside of his lip nervously.

he hesitated, “i’ve seen things like that happen to people that I love. i’ve never stood for it and knew I needed to help.” he shrugged, “simple as that.”

you could feel there was more. he was holding back but you couldn’t tell what.

still, you let him go.

just as he reached the door, he turned his head and whispered, “let me know if that bastard ever fucking touches you again.”

oh.

you don’t think he meant for you to hear that.

he exited and closed the door without another sound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you had faked sleep the rest of that night.

what the fuck had just happened?

so you weren’t being completely delusional?

no. no. no.

you had to stop convincing yourself that he liked you in any way. he was a man; men will flirt with a wall and hope they get lucky.

although, he was undeniably sweet by himself.

no. no. no.

get ahold of yourself.

you were still lost in thought when your alarm went off.

you pulled yourself out of bed and your own mind as you went to collect your shoes. you were still fully clothed in your interview clothes but thankfully jake had taken off your little heels before laying you down in his bed.

your hair was still in the claw clip from yesterday, too. but after a few hours of turning in his bed, it had turned into a wild mess. you took out the clip, laid it on the nightstand, and ran your fingers through your hair.

it desperately needed a wash.

you got it untangled enough for the moment and put on your heels. your shower was calling your name and you needed to get back home.

you left his bedroom, taking in the rest of his apartment. there was a small hallway leading out of his room with other doors leading off. but as you approached the end of it, you saw his living room. there was a couch and a recliner, both a deep shade of red.

jake was asleep on the couch, a big fuzzy blanket covering him from the abdomen down. he was shirtless again, his toned arms crossed under his head to make a pillow for his head to lay on. he looked peaceful, lost in the healing world of sleep.

you held in a laugh, thinking about all the sleep he’s probably missed too, with all his practices.

the room was decently clean, with little messes here and there that you expected from boys. but it wasn’t too bad, and you enjoyed looking at all the art and posters he had on his walls.

most of all though, there were guitars everywhere. one every direction you looked, in fact.

but the thing that caught your eye was peeking out at the farthest corner of the living space.

it was another small room, the inside walls lined with black padding. there was a drum kit, microphone, and even more guitars.

it was a soundproof recording room.

now you were even more pissed at him for all those sleepless nights. he had a solution this whole time? that ass.

suddenly it dawned on you that you were snooping around his house, and you instantly scolded yourself. you turned and saw the front door, starting to tiptoe to it.

you were not even going to look back at jake, knowing you’d probably get lost in a daze looking at him. it should be illegal to look like he did while sleeping.

you unlocked the door and started to open it.

“leaving so soon, huh?” jake was leaning up against the wall by the door. how you didn’t see him, you had no clue. his red plaid pajama pants hung loosely on him, and dangerously low. you felt your eyes get wider and wanted to pinch yourself. “this feels like the morning after a one night stand”, he smirked.

you scoffed, annoyance taking its place back in your voice, “uh huh. as if.”

his eyebrows raised, “as if, huh? i’m just that repulsive? you don’t find me the least bit attractive?”

his voice was laced with sarcasm and the anger against him was in full force again.

“in fact, I do NOT think your the least bit attractive.” you stuck your nose in the air, deep down hoping he didn’t see through you. you really were deeply frustrated with him, but you couldn’t deny how much your body longed for him.

you opened the door, walking the few feet to your apartment, and found the right key.

“your not even gonna thank me for the toast?” you could tell jake didn’t really care about the toast, he just wanted you to inflate his ego by praising him. something you refused to do.

you rolled your eyes, “thank you for the toast”, you groaned, walking into your home.

• • •

ughhhh I can’t get enough of him.

next chapter coming later today… ;)

tag list: @gvfpal @hollyco

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #daniel wagner #danny gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut

[macbethsymphony]

CHARLOU!!! BB!!! ily so much! oh my gosh you're the freaking best spoiling me like that! Should be freaking illegal! Can I request one more? Only when you have time! But that discussion we had about Buggy has been living rent free in my mind. Fuck! Pretty please~ I LOVE YOU!!!!

-M✨

Mille!!! bb!! You know damn well that it was already half-written. It's been living rent-free in my mind too hun hahahaha (I recommend the Jack Sparrow theme as you read it) Love you too, you horndog <3

In Search of Shanks

Buggy x Fem!Reader

wc: 2.9k

warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, rough sex, drunk sex, slight alcohol abuse, there's no plot people... it's just smut

Summary: While traveling through the grand line in search of Red-haired Shanks you encounter Buggy the Clown... and things ensue

You were already wasted as you stumbled into the fourth bar of your night. No one knew shit. The bastard’s location still remained a fucking mystery. 

“Hi there,” you drawled at the bartender as you slumped none so elegantly down on the standing stool. “Know anything about the whereabouts of Red-haired Shanks?”

The bartender glanced at you, raising an eyebrow as he wiped down a glass. “Shanks, huh?” he repeated with a bemused smile. “Been a while since I’ve seen him.” He leaned forward as he continued. “No idea where he went though, lass. Anything to drink?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Figures. The bastard’s slippery as fuck.” You fumbled in your coin pouch, slamming a few berries on the counter with a bit more force than necessary. “Whatever’s cheapest please.” 

The bartender chuckled and poured you a mug of something that smelled like it could strip paint. You took a long swig, wincing as the harsh liquid burned its way down your throat. 

You turned around, squinting your eyes as you struggled to put into focus your surroundings. This was a sketchy establishment. Musty and falling apart at the seams. Just like you. Your gaze landed on something red, slightly gleaming in the shitty flickering lamplight. 

Red nose.

A red fucking nose, huh? What a weird fellow. 

Wait.

A red nose should remind you of something. Right! Your mind distantly placed it. Some tall tales recounted around a campfire about being part of Gold Roger’s crew. 

Fucking hell.

Lady Luck worked in strange ways. 

“Hey! You! Big red nose!” you shouted, pointing unsteadily in his direction.

The men around him stopped whatever they’d been doing, freezing in place as the man in question slowly turned to you. 

“What d’ya say?” Buggy the Clown’s voice was precariously calm as his eyes met yours.

You teetered on the edge of your stool, attempted to stand up, the world tilting a little, then slumped back down. “You heard me, red nose. I need to know something.”

“Red nose!” he screeched dangerously, stomping to you, fury evident in his gaze. 

You snorted at the display. What was his problem? Men were always so sensitive, you just stated the obvious.

“What about my nose?” he demanded, eyes blazing, a knife finding itself to your throat in a very clear threat. 

You met his glare defiantly. He had pretty eyes, now that you could see him up close. Actually, if you got past the nose and the makeup, he was quite handsome. Was that his hair coming through his hat? You rather liked long hair. More to pull and grab. Your stare danced down. Good build too. 

You smirked, cocking your head and leaning slightly into the knife. You felt it slice through skin a little. “Careful there, clown.” Your tongue passed your lips, your hand going to the blade, tips of your fingers tracing the steel slowly as you continued. “I might be into that, you know?” you giggled. “But you know Shanks, right? You’re Binky, right?… no was it Baggy… Ah! Booggy!! Ehe, nailed it,” he frowned, destabilized by your drunken train of thoughts. “Anyways, any idea where that red-haired bastard might be?”

Buggy’s eyes narrowed, the blade pressing just a bit more firmly against your neck. It was more of an ego thing now than a threat, though you could clearly see the confusion and irritation in his gaze.  “It’s Buggy, you half-wit,” he growled.

You felt a familiar heat pool at your core at the way his voice shrieked… or maybe it was the degradation paired with the knife at your throat… Or a mix of it all. Either way, it made

you smile and lean further into the act. To your satisfaction, he seemed to distantly catch your train of thought. He took a step closer, making you lean against the bar, your back arching under him. “And why should I tell you anything about Shanks?” his breath brushed against your lips.

You snorted, his question unfortunately bringing you back out to reality. “Why, pretty boy?” Your mouth twisted as you slowly removed the blade out of his hand. “Cause the bastard knocked my sister up and left without saying shit.”

The words hung between you for a while. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, working. Then his expression shifted. Disbelief. Amusement. 

He laughed. 

“Shanks has a kid?” he bellowed and you sighed downing the god-awful booze in your cup.

“Five fucking years old, still hasn’t shown back up and not answering letters,” you added, rolling your eyes. “You guys were in Roger’s crew together, right? You MUST have an idea where he is.”

The echo of his laughter dimmed. He crashed on the stool next to yours, hearty chuckles still shaking his shoulders. “No fucking idea, woman,” he gestured at the bartender to get you new booze. 

You slumped down defeated. “More slippery than an eel in fucking oil,” you complained under your breath. A tankard appeared in front of you. You eyed it dubiously, then eyed the clown. “You better be paying, pretty boy,” you said before taking a gulp. It was far better than whatever you’d been drinking before. “Cause I’m flat-out broke.” 

Your head hurt. Hurt so fucking bad. You could hear the rhythm of your heart in your ears. You creaked your eyes open, soft rays of sunshine an insult to your very being. You pulled the covers against yourself, fabric dragging along bare skin. Wait. Was that a bed? It was a nice bed. You hadn’t slept in one so comfortable in ages. You caught something blue in the periphery of your vision.

Ah right. The clown.

You looked at him for a bit, sleeping soundly, long hair splattered around him, the sheets barely hiding his naked frame.

Damn, you’d been right. He was a pretty boy. 

You tried to get up, but slumped back down just as fast, your body feeling like lead.

Fuck.

Most of the past night was a mystery to you. Though it didn’t take more than adding two and two together to figure out what you’d done with the clown. 

Fuck, you could still feel him a little. Though your thighs were clean. Surprisingly gentlemanly. You chuckled softly. Must have been a good lay, shame you didn’t remember.

You spotted a half-empty bottle of booze lying on the floor. You shifted over lazily, tips of your fingers grazing the cool glass before they finally wrapped around it. Expertly you untwisted the cap, bringing the alcohol to your lips. 

You smirked. Shit was good quality. Couldn’t be hungover if you were drunk. 

You closed your eyes with a satisfied exhale, images slowly coming back to you. 

You’d been talking and laughing for a while now. Your conversation had shifted to a more secluded corner of the shabby establishment. You were straddling him as he recounted another unbelievable story, his hand detached as he waved it around, punctuating his words. 

You giggled a little, eyes stuck on his lips, not following a single one of his words. Then your mind started going down the slippery slope of the possibilities of his devil fruit powers. You put your palm on his chest, steadying yourself as you looked into the sea of his eyes.

“Say,” you mused drunkenly. “Buggy,” you uttered his name wantonly, dragging it emphatically through your lips, leaning near, breath mingling with his as he slowly stopped talking. “Can you detach, like, everything?”

Your lips almost touched, his gaze sparkled with amusement. 

“Everything,” he confirmed your thoughts, inching a little closer. With a flick of his wrist, his hand reattached itself, going to your thigh, traveling up to your ass then to your lower back, slipping under the hem of your shirt as he found his way to your waist.

You let out a small whine as ideas crossed your mind. You smirked as you asked, “Have you ever, like, detached your head to suck yourself?” He chuckled nervously but before he could say anything you continued. “Cause, if it were me,” you moaned, low, pressing yourself against him shamelessly. “I think I’d eat myself out every day.” You rolled your hips. “Fuck, the possibilities.” 

You cringed as the memories of your drunken boldness flooded back. You shouldn’t be surprised, you guessed. It was far from unusual from you, and it clearly wasn’t your worst blunder. 

He shifted a little next to you, slowly coming back to the land of the living.

You took another sip, the burn down your throat feeling heavenly.

“Mornin’, pretty boy,” you rasped as his eyes creaked open.

He just groaned.

He’d brought you back to his ship, both giggling as you drunkenly tumbled down the cobblestone path. You’d almost fallen off the gangplank as you made your way to the gaudy swaying deck.

As you entered his quarters, his lips found yours, hungry and demanding. Red lipstick and day-old makeup smeared across your face as your tongues met. His body pressed yours against the door, hands not wasting time as he undid your pants. 

The kiss broke for an instant as you took off your shirt. Mouths crashing again as soon as the fabric passed your head. Your fingers bunched desperately into his coat before tugging it off with urgency. Your hands traced up his arms, finding muscles you hadn’t entirely expected. 

“Buggy,” you moaned into him, a sound muffled against his lips. His hand detached, buried itself in your underwear. 

You bucked as the tips of his fingers found the bundle of nerves in small circles. Your nails dug into sinews as you struggled to keep upright. His body leaned further into you, a grounding weight. You felt fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back as he trailed down your jaw, the hollow of your throat.

“Shit, you’re wet. Wanna hear you,” he murmured against your ear, tongue meeting your lobe, teeth nibbling. 

He pressed a touch harder on your clit and you mewled and swore under your breath for him. Then you felt two of his fingers detach and enter you, lazily pumping in and out. 

Oh fuck. That wasn’t fair. 

Your hands shot to his head, tossing the hat away as your fingers sought to tangle themselves in his locks. Long blue strands cascaded around his shoulders and your nails found his scalp, digging almost painfully,

He moaned in tandem with you at the sensation, hips rolling against yours, making the palm at your cunt drag harder against your clit. “Gonna cum,” you warned in a high-pitched voice you barely recognized. 

Your walls twitched against his fingers as you came undone. He didn’t stop as you rode your high, dancing ridiculously close to the line of overstimulation. As your body slumped, relying entirely on him to hold you upright, digits snapped together, hand slowly retreating before going back at his wrist. 

“Fucking hell,” you panted, guiding his head back to yours, lips meeting leisurely. You went to the front of his pants, palming him. “Take me to bed, you pretty pirate captain.”

He chuckled, lust in his eyes. “Say that again.” He grabbed your ass roughly, pulling you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“What part?” You licked his lower lip, hands lacing around his neck for support as he made his way to the bed. “Pretty?” You kissed his jaw. “Pirate?” Your teeth dragged on his neck. “Or? Captain?” you whispered in his ear.

He rolled his hips at the last one, the sound of pleasure escaping his mouth obscene. He unceremoniously dropped you down on the mattress, bouncing for an instant. You quickly kicked your boots and removed your pants off, panties and bra following suit, thrown into oblivion. 

He started doing the same, shirt discarded but before he could unlace his pants you grabbed his hand, pulling him to you. He stumbled down, your bodies colliding, long hair draping around you as he kissed you. 

With a quick movement, you flipped the both of you, straddling him. “You still got those knives, captain?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hips, leaving a wet spot on his pants. “I want you to hold one to my neck as I fuck you.” 

He grinned and you suddenly felt cool steel at your neck. “Fucking stunning.” He bucked under you.

You swore as you realized the hand holding the knife was floating, your head lulled back, a needy mewl escaping you. This shit was hot. You quickly made works of the laces of his pants, pulling out his cock.

He was already hard for you, leaking. You traced along him, touch fleeting until you reached the tip, your grip tightening, thumb swiping the bead of precum, gathering it. You brought back your fingers to your mouth, licking them clean, the taste salty on your tongue as you slowly started lowering yourself on him. His hand shot to your hip, fingers digging into the softness of your flesh as he tried to steady himself.

A loud moan escaped him, his back arching, breathing uneven as you took him fully. “Fucking warm and tight,” his voice was shaky. 

You didn’t waste time, lazily making your way up and down his cock. The stretch was heavenly. You grabbed his hand at your hip and brought it to your chest. You rolled your hips and his fingers pinched and squeezed for you. 

“Fuck, Captain,” you gasped. You went to your clit, fingers expertly circling, matching the movements of your rhythm. You purposely leaned into the blade and you felt blood trickle down your neck. “Fuck.” Your thighs trembled.  

“Shit, woman,” he grunted, hips rising to meet yours. “Who knew you’d be such a whore.” Your walls twitched and you stuttered at his words. He smirked. “You like that? Whore?” he punctuated his question with an especially forceful thrust, fingers pinching hard on your nipple.

“Yes!” you cried out, desperately chasing your high. “Oh gods, yes.”

“That’s right.” he started thrusting into you more steadily, making up for your weakening thighs. 

One of your hands shot to the hand holding the knife at your throat as you came, holding the blade more firmly against your, your body spasming and folding in pleasure. 

You distantly heard him chuckle at the sight. Then you felt yourself be turned around completely, your face burying itself in the linen covers, his cock somehow still pumping into you in the exchange of positions. 

The pace he set was hard, fast, rough, just how you liked it. You felt fingers burying themselves in your hair, pulling painfully, then pushing you harshly into the mattress. A staggered scream of pleasure escaped your mouth, drool seeping into the loose weave of the fabric.

Your thighs shook violently, threatening to collapse as overstimulation bordered the edge of your mind. Your fingers tangled in the covers. His hand came to your clit in small flicks. It sent your world careening. You couldn’t breathe properly. You felt threads snap beneath the force of your nails. 

“Shit, never asked your name,” The rhythm of his hips was becoming more frazzled, urgent. The hand in your hair pulled you up a bit to hear your answer.

“(Y/n),” you moaned again and again, punctuated by incomprehensible swears.

He chuckled. Your name rolled on his lips. It sounded nice. “Pretty name,” he mused, pushing your head back in the covers roughly. “Fuck,” his fingers circled harder against your clit and tears stained linen along your drool. “Sail with me, (y/n).” 

You were too far gone to answer him properly, a second orgasm tingling at the tips of your fingers. “Yes!” you agreed mindlessly, toes curling.

The world disappeared around you as you came, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. “Fuck,” you sobbed as your body tried to retract from the stimulation of his touch.

It didn’t take long for him to join you in rapture, suddenly pulling out of you, thrusting against your ass, hot seed spilling along your lower back.

“Mind if I smoke?” you asked as you unsteadily made your way to your pants, discarded on the floor next to a small window. You felt his stare on your naked figure as you bent down shamelessly, looking into your pockets for your lighter and your pack of cigarettes.

“Ya can do whatever you want, woman,” he groaned behind you, his voice still thick with sleep.

You chuckled, bringing one to your lips and lighting it without much thought. You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing the exhilaration that came with the smoke filling your lungs. Your eyes creaked open again, only now noticing the unending expanse of blue in the horizon.

Ahhhhh.

Fuck.

You’d set sail.

You sighed. Didn’t matter.

You took another puff of smoke, turning back to the bed.

“Soooo,” you drawled out the word, the mattress dipping under your weight. You ungracefully made your way to the pirate, straddling him, bottle of booze in one hand, cigarette hanging from your lips. “Captain.” You rolled your hips against him, feeling heat pooling between your thighs as your oversensitive clit caught on his hardening cock. You exhaled, smoke coming out in a hypnotizing pattern. “How about we have some fun.”

He smirked.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown smut #buggy x reader #buggy smut #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #one piece x reader #charlou writes

[nereidprinc3ss]

so um, i wanted to rant in here for a little bit. so far, i have loved your dybmn series and this makes me think that the way you write your characters complexities is so good. i’m a little afraid of sharing this as everyone here seems to love dybmn spencer.

because god, spencer is so unfair and insufferable. reader is insecure but not as unbelievable unbearable as spencer, i understand if i might be misinterpreting this but it was easy to deduce he would be the one projecting his own insecurities on reader.

it annoys me how he won’t give her the opportunity to truly enjoy her body as she wants to sexually engage with him. he claims he wants her and cares for her pleasure but sometimes it doesn’t really look like it, it feels like some sort of manipulative traumatic tactic to actually hold her hostage even though he says he’s not.

it’s contradictory. just because everything went wrong with elle, which is WEIRD considering his whore phase doesn’t gives him the right to expect that much from reader. god, he’s a profiler. he might not be able to actually read minds but i’m pretty sure he’s perfectly capable of picking up clues with his IQ.

specially during her first fucking time with a man. how would he want her to tell him she loves him if she’s still soooooooo inexperienced? literally how? i feel bad for reading it this way but the andromeda chapter fucked me upppp. there were all sorts of theories going on my mind after i read it.

she knows nothing about relationships and is constantly put into the dangerous position of wanting to please him, he never forces her but it’s pretty obvious she TRIES. how is that not enough for him? and it’s not just the sex, he has always had her affection at his disposition (i say this according to the way she’s agreed to accept his invitations to events like the bar or film festivals, the way she’s constantly kissing him without being sexual and always asking for him).

nevertheless, i’m really excited to see how the series will be evolving as they go. every chapter comes up with something new and i love that we’re able to theorize about it. i just really hope we get a big apology from spencer because….

i’m keeping this one:

💐

thank u so much for taking the time to share ur thoughts!! I rlly appreciate it lovely!! and honestly i don’t think you’re alone in disliking dybmn spencer😭 he gets a lot of hate!!

me explaining stuff abt reid below👇 there are reasons for him being the way he is it’s not ALL inexcusable i promise!!

he is honestly probably more insecure than reader. one thing a lot of people have asked me is “how does it make sense for him to be so traumatized from what happened with elle and still have slept with a ton of women after” and honestly psychologically speaking it’s really not a reach that he would have done that! often when people are really insecure about themselves they seek reassurance and validation from other people, and sometimes they go about getting that validation through sex! i imagine since elle he’s never had a real committed romantic relationship and it’s all been very casual hookups, sometimes w the same people but never breaching into romance territory (don’t mention maeve idk if she’s canon or not in dybmn universe lol)

and I don’t think he’s holding her hostage, he just truly can’t imagine that she loves him back. and if you think about it he has every reason not to. his affection hasn’t been reciprocated or received well for most of his life (elle, his dad, his mom, jj (sorry for bringing up jeid)). even if you’re receiving all the input that someone likes you, if you hate yourself enough you’ll go to crazy lengths to not believe it.

i agree that it’s not super healthy, but he knows that! in my mind that’s actually why he told her on the phone that they didn’t feel the same way—he was trying to essentially be like hey girl you should know im pretty sure you don’t like me as much as i like you, and that’s fine, but if it makes you uncomfortable then we should talk about it because i don’t want you to feel like there are terms and conditions on our relationship that you didn’t understand.

also it might be helpful to realize that in some ways spencer really is not more experienced with romantic relationships than she is. he had a situationship with elle that never went anywhere and a bunch of hookups (and maybe maeve but even if that happened it was like a fake relationship lmao they were e dating and I don’t believe he really loved her but that’s a post for another day). but he doesn’t know how to exist in a healthy relationship with a partner who really cares for him any more than she does. most of dybmn is from readers perspective and she FEELS that he’s way more experienced but that experience is pretty much limited to sex which is obviously a big hang up for her so not surprising that she focuses on it so much and his experience seems so vast. but yeah romantically he is also a late bloomer and fairly stunted. he’s kinda figuring it all out for the first time just like she is!

so anyway that was me defending reid for four paragraphs!! but also maybe he’s just an asshole idk men suck why am I defending one of them

thank u again for giving me an excuse to talk abt this!!! ily

#asks #headcanons #💐