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#thank you very very much for the ask!! i know it took me longer than usual to answer
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OLD GRUDGES (part 3)
A/N: i know it took me way longer than it should have, but at last im here with the next part and that's what matters, right? thank you for the support on the prev parts, hope you'll enjoy this just as much!
WORD COUNT: 4.3k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
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Meetings never really excited Harry, but lately, they have been his favorite along with studio sessions. Because these were the times he always got to see Y/N. 
Today he is going in with her favorite cookies in his bag that he picked up on his way, taking a detour just to drop by that one place she loves the most. It’s been a recurring thing for Harry, picking up a cup of coffee for her, buying her favorite snacks for their sessions or surprising her with lunch from that taco place she adores so much. He’s been doing practically anything to get a smile on her face because he feels like that’s the only thing he is destined to do. 
He’s been ignoring the fact that her time working on the project ends in two weeks, according to the contract. The only chance to stretch it longer if the required songs are not finished, but they are all practically done at this point. Harry tries his best not to think of what it will be like when he doesn’t get to see her as often as he does now. 
The meeting was scheduled only yesterday, so Harry has no idea what it is about, but it doesn’t really matter, they are supposed to record afterwards, so he only cares about spending more time with Y/N. 
However, the smile fades when he walks into the room and doesn’t see her. It’s odd, she is usually there before him, but now it’s just a couple of the studio engineers, Niall, Liam and Blake, the kind of weird manager from Modest who’s been working with them since they started recording for Midnight Memories. Harry has been getting these eerie vibes from him, but he just can’t put his finger on it, so he’s been sucking it up and ignoring it. He gave no reason not to be trusted so far. 
“Hey, what’s up?” Harry greets everyone walking into the room. 
“Ah, Harry! You’re here!” Blake smiles and they shake hands before Harry settles in a chair. “I was just telling the boys what this meeting is about. Good news, you are set for another album after Midnight Memories is released!”
It’s no surprise, to be honest. One album after the other, the pace has been just like that for a while. 
“Great,” he nods. “Do we know who we’re gonna work with?”
Blake then hands him a paper with a list of names and some other details. Harry runs over the names, looking for a particular one, but it’s not there.
“What about Y/N?” he asks.
“Ah, I wanted to tell you guys. She got another project kind of last minute, so she is done with the album for now and won’t be able to join for the next one, it seems like,” Blake explains casually and it doesn’t stand out to anyone else either, but it hits Harry in the chest pretty hard.
She is done with the album? Why didn’t she say anything? They talked on the phone just two days ago, why didn’t she even mention it?
And why isn’t she gonna work on the next album? Harry doubts she is booked that far ahead, she is just getting recognized in the industry and she told him herself she is living from one project to the other, works on the next album won’t start at least until they start touring Midnight Memories.
It’s not adding up, but on the other hand… Harry has no right to question her. Even despite how close he’s been getting to her, they are still just… coworkers. Friends. 
But nothing more. 
“Alright, now that we are talking about the next album, I have a little sneak peek of a song that could be a big hit!” Blake seems enthusiastic as he opens his laptop and then soon a demo starts playing, but Harry can’t really focus, he is too stuck on the fact that he has no more time left with Y/N. He even pulls out his phone, ready to text her and ask her how all of this happened, but then talks himself down. When he finally starts to listen to the song, it sounds familiar at first, but there are no lyrics and Harry often finds random songs familiar lately, because he just hears so many new melodies on a daily basis, they tend to blend together. 
“You like it?” Blake asks him and Harry just nods.
“Yeah. What is it called?”
Blake smiles confidently as he shuts the laptop down.
“Night Changes.”
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The weather is finally good enough for grilling and the rowland household would take an opportunity anytime for that. Filling up their backyard with the people they love the most and feeding them burgers, hotdogs or basically anything Mitch is able to throw onto the grill. They usually have a gathering like this every month if their schedule and the weather allows. 
Now it’s finally the first official grill party of the year. 
Harry is sat outside by one of the tables, his plate is empty by now, but he knows he’ll get another round at one point. Cards are scattered on the tabletop, along with glasses of lemonade and beer, the kids are playing in the back somewhere by the treehouse, everything feels and looks idyllic.
For the past about two hours Harry couldn’t stop looking for Y/N. Stealing glances when she was talking to Sarah or playing with the kids, trying not to ogle her too obviously when she was laughing at something at the other table. He wanted to walk up to her a thousand times already, but he is trying to act cool and figure out how to act when there are other people around. 
It’s an unknown territory for sure. 
When Harry sees her walking towards the house he just can’t stay put. Excusing himself from the group he tries his best not to look suspicious as he follows her inside. Once the sliding door is closed behind him he quickens his steps down the hallway towards the bathroom, guessing she went there, but as he is approaching the door he notices it’s closed.
Should he try his luck and open it? Or maybe knock? Or…
Suddenly, the lock rattles and the door moves the tiniest bit, light coming through the gap. His heart skips a beat as he leaps forward and pushes the door open more so he can step inside.
And there she is, standing by the sink, checking herself out in the mirror when Harry walks in and closes the door behind him. Then slowly, she turns her gaze to him, for the first time today and for a moment Harry thinks she might tell him to fuck off and get out, but when he sees her lips part, he knows what she wants.
Him.
They collide fast, their usual hunger for each other taking over in a heartbeat. Demanding kisses, rough touches, they both know they should be in a hurry, Harry can’t even remember if he locked the door, it would be rather awkward if someone walked in on them.
Especially because no one knows about them, or whatever is going on between them. 
It’s been over a week since the dinner party that ended up with the most confusing but also mind-blowingly amazing sex they have ever had. When it was over Harry simply left and kept to what she said, that they would not talk about it and that’s exactly what happened. They never talked about it, but it happened again. 
Twice since then. 
And now they are going at it again. 
“Fuck,” Harry growls into her mouth when she reaches into his pants with quick but confident moves, because it’s not the first time she is doing it and he can only hope it’s not the last either. 
“Quickly,” she pants and he just nods, bunching up her dress and tugging her underwear down. It’s no surprise he is already hard, following her inside was like a foreplay to him, the secrecy, the chance that she might tell him to fuck off, his pulse has been rising before he stepped into the bathroom. 
They moan together when he thrusts into her, but then he gets back to kissing her to keep their voice down as he starts moving. Usually, they don’t talk when they are having sex, but Harry feels like changing that up, trying out how she reacts to something different. 
“You knew I would come after you, huh?” he pants against her lips.
“I did,” she breathes out, one arm curled around his neck, her other hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep her balance. 
“You thought about me fucking you all day?”
To that, she doesn’t answer and Harry almost regrets opening his mouth, but then she looks at him and nods.
“I did,” she repeats herself and even cracks a smile before pulling him closer to kiss him hard. And just like that, a tightening but warm feeling spreads in his chest. 
They don’t need much time, Harry is the first to come and she follows soon right after. Her head falls against his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths and he tries to fight the urge, but then gives in and bringing up a hand he runs his fingers through her hair. Part of him fears this move might be too intimate for her and that she’ll shake him off of her any moment, but it never happens and Harry enjoys it, probably way more than he should. 
They clean themselves up and soon it’s just the sparkle in their eyes that proves what they just did. 
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, fixing her makeup in the mirror. 
“Are you asking me out or something?” Harry cheekily asks and she just smacks his chest playfully.
“I have some stuff I’ve been working on that I want to show you.”
Harry’s pulse fastens again. This is just like it was before, when it was just the two of them, sharing the songs they were working on. 
“I would love that,” he smiles at her, watching her walk to the door. 
“Alright. I’ll text you then.”
Y/N walks out and Harry knows they are back to not talking and for a second he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. 
When he walks out he is still deep in his thoughts, but then when he reaches the kitchen he comes to a halt, seeing Mitch by the kitchen island, sipping on some lemonade, a knowing look on his face.
“Hey man,” Harry clears his throat and joins him instead of walking outside.
“Hey. Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Want to share why I just saw Y/N coming from the same direction as you just did?”
“Uh… you know, we just…”
Harry can’t quite find the right words, especially because he doesn’t like and can’t really lie to Mitch, but he also wants to keep the no talking rule. Mitch stares back at him with a blank face for a second, but then his eyes go wide.
“No way.”
“What?” Harry laughs.
“For real?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and… you and Y/N?”
Harry doesn’t answer, but that’s quite the answer to Mitch.
“Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”
“Keep it down!” He hushes his friend. “It’s… it’s nothing official or anything.”
“But it is something, right? What is it?”
Harry once again just stays silent.
“You two are having sex?” More silence. “Oh my God! Did you just do it in the bathroom?!”
“Shh!” Harry tries to shush him again, but he also can’t hold back his smile, thinking about what just took place in that bathroom. 
“Harry, what the hell! When… How did that happen? You know what? I don’t want to know about that,” Mitch changes his mind quickly, making Harry laugh. “But like… what is it?”
“I told you, it’s nothing o–”
“No, I mean… what do you want it to be?”
Harry sighs as he turns so he can look out at the backyard through the sliding door. And there she is, with a glass in her hand as she is talking to Sarah, laughing at something and Harry wishes he knew what it was. 
“I just… I like her. A lot.”
“But you two had been hating each other passionately, what happened to that?”
“I think we took the passionately part and turned it into something else,” Harry smirks cheekily, his eyes still glued to her figure outside. 
“Oh my God, you are so gone for her,” Mitch breathes out, shaking his head. “You’re falling for her!”
Harry turns back to Mitch and hesitates before speaking up.
“I already fell for her. When we worked together years ago. But then she basically disappeared and when we met again, she acted like I was her mortal enemy,” Harry chuckles. Calling himself the enemy sounds ridiculous, but it’s the most fitting he could say. “And now…” he hums, but doesn’t finish his thought out loud.
“And now you’re falling for her again?”
“I might be,” he nods.
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The Sun has set, but the party's still going. Well, it’s not raging, some of the people who came with kids have left and Scout has been put down by Mitch as well, but a handful of guests are still out on the terrace, playing card games and sharing stories. 
Y/N sits right across from Harry and he has noticed the change. She is losing her cold act towards him, slowly but surely. They can finally talk and joke around almost like back in the days. Harry however doesn’t want to let himself go deeper than he should, he knows he is on an unstable field with her and he feels like it all could snap any moment, but…
It feels so amazing.
Making her laugh, sharing knowing looks, teasing each other like old friends, Harry missed being like this. 
When he notices that she’s probably cold his first thought is to offer his hoodie, but he is quick to stop himself, he’s sure it might be too much at once so he instead just asks around who needs a blanket as he is heading inside anyway so he can easily grab a few. 
But then as the night comes to an end, he still decides to try and dance around the unsaid boundaries.
“Hey, I just ordered a car, added your address as well.” Harry tells her when he sees her open the Uber app on her phone.
“Ah, no need, I can just–”
“Already ordered it,” he insists, hoping she’ll accept it and luckily, it seems like she is not in the mood to argue. 
The car ride is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. She is on her phone, reading what seems like emails to Harry and he notices the change in her instantly.
“Everything alright?”
She looks up with a frown and then sighs, locking her phone. 
“Just work. I have this annoying assistant, called Daryl up in my ass on another project, he is trying to get me to give way more than I’m obligated to. I don’t even know who his boss is, the damn guy is like a mystery for some reason.”
“Like, they want more music from you?”
“Yes,” she nods. “They want to listen to stuff I’m working on in case something fits the album, but I’ve already delivered what I was paid for.”
Although he is eager to know more, to offer his help, he stays silent, staying within the boundaries this time, not pushing his luck even more. It’s a miracle itself that she even said this much about anything personal. 
“So tomorrow?” Y/N asks when the car stops in front of her house. Harry looks at her and for a moment, all he can think about is the last time they were here like this. 
“Yeah, I’m free,” he manages to speak up, snapping out of his memories.
“I’ll text you. Bye then,” she nods before climbing out of the car and heading towards her front door. Harry watches her for a bit before he tells the driver to leave. 
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She still hasn’t texted him. It’s four in the afternoon and he hasn’t heard of her since she got dropped off last night. 
He was up early, went for a run, because he definitely needed to put his extra energy into something instead of continuously checking his phone, hoping for a text to pop up. Then he grabbed himself a bagel on the way back, brewed a coffee when he got home and had his breakfast while staring at his phone like a sore loser. 
He took that damn phone everywhere he went. Literally everywhere. But the hours passed by and he got no sign and at first he just thought she got busy with something, but by the time he was done with lunch, it turned into a worry. 
She was as punctual as one could get and she would have already texted him by now, even if it was just about that she is running late with whatever she was doing. A decent session lasts at least three or four hours and she is not one to pull an allnighter.
He has kept ordering himself to be patient all day, but now he lost the last bits of his bearing. At last he decides a text is fine, she can answer whenever it’s convenient. 
HARRY: Hey, are we still up for a sesh? 
He keeps the conversation open and watches his message sit there, its status staying delivered for what feels like forever. Then, about twenty minutes later, it changes to read and the three dots start dancing at the bottom of the screen as Harry’s heart threatens to jump right out of his chest. He knows he is acting ridiculously, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head for now. 
The dots then disappear, but no message arrives. A minute goes by and they reappear and this time a gray bubble follows.
Y/N: I got a bit of a situation on my hands rn.
Then a photo pops up of her house with two police cars parked at the front and Harry’s stomach drops.
HARRY: I’m going over.
He sends the message before he could even think it through and he is already out the door by the time she reads his reply. 
When he arrives one of the police cars is still there and Y/N is out front, talking to an officer. She is lacking her usual on-spot style, wearing a baggy sweat set, her hair in a state of mess he has never seen before, but even despite the worried expression on her face, she looks annoyingly beautiful. 
She spots him as he gets out of his car, crossing the lawn with a slow jog.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, on the verge of losing his marbles if he doesn’t find out what happened immediately.
“Give me a minute,” she tells him, turning back to the officer. “Thank you for everything. I’ll let you know if I find anything that’s missing.”
“Take care, Miss. We’ll have a car patrol around the neighborhood every hour for the next 24 hours, though it’s unlikely they will come back.”
With a nod, the officer walks over to the car, gets in and they drive away.
“What the hell happened?” Harry asks when Y/N finally turns to him.
“Someone broke into my house,” she says and then just simply heads back inside. Harry jogs after her. 
“What? When?” 
Y/N is walking straight to her kitchen and Harry follows her, locking the front door behind him. 
“I went to a yoga class in the morning. When I came back, I noticed my lock was picked and the door was open.” 
Harry watches her rummage through a cabinet before grabbing a bottle of tequila along with two glasses. She shoots a questioning look to him, to which he just nods, though he is still lost, confused and kind of angry. She pours a generous amount into both glasses and then hands one over to Harry before chugging hers down faster than ever. 
“Did anything go missing?”
“Literally nothing,” she laughs bitterly. “Everything seems untouched and I just don’t understand it at all. Why would someone break in if they don’t take anything valuable?”
“Money? Jewelry? Everything is here?”
“Everything. I checked everything.”
Harry is now just as clueless as Y/N. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s also somehow even worse. Whoever broke in had a reason to, but it’s completely hidden for now. 
When she reaches for the bottle again he notices how much her hands are shaking. She is a nervous wreck. 
“Hey, you don’t want to lose your rationality right now,” Harry softly warns her as he grabs her hand and stops her from pouring another one. 
“I’m fucking terrified, Harry,” she admits, her voice shakes and so weak like never before. Harry’s heart breaks for her. “Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?”
“I have,” Harry answers without hesitation and that’s when she finally looks him in the eyes again. “I had a few stalkers throughout the years and attempted break-ins.”
And just like that, something changes in her. The last bits of the wall she so carefully built up between the two of them are destroyed and she lets him see her fully and so naked emotionally. Her lips tremble, tears dwell in her eyes and just as the first sob breaks out of her chest, he is pulling her into his embrace. 
For a second Harry thinks it might be just luck, that she is only opening up to him like this because he is the one who is physically here with her, but he then wipes this thought and just focuses on being the support she truly needs. 
He holds her tight as she cries into his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head until she calms down and regains control over her breathing. 
“Pack a bag for a few days, stay at mine for a bit, okay?” he softly says when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at him. She doesn’t try to put up a fight, just nods and lets him walk her up to her bedroom. 
He helps her pack, she grabs the clothes while Harry packs her laptop and chargers. Half an hour later they are getting into his car before heading over to Harry’s place. The car ride is silent and Harry doesn’t even try to talk her through it. He knows how important it is to let her find her own peace in this situation instead of trying to just temporarily divert her attention. 
It’s actually her first time at his place, so she is curiously examining the place when they finally arrive. Harry shows her around quickly and then they reach the bedrooms upstairs.
“Choose a bedroom, personally my favorite is that one,” he smiles softly, pointing at the one next to his own bedroom. She walks closer and peeks inside, then into his bedroom and he watches her patiently.
“Can I… sleep with you?”
Her request surprises him, but he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t hoping for it. 
“Sure, of course,” he nods and gestures for her to walk inside. 
He sets down her bag to the ottoman at the end of his king sized bed while she looks around. Harry grabs a towel for her from the closet and hands it over to her.
“Take a shower, I’ll make tea for you, how does that sound?”
She just nods, holding the towel to her chest and he can’t believe how vulnerable she looks. The Y/N he’s known for the past few months is nothing like the woman standing in front of him right now. 
“Alright, then I’ll…” 
He clears his throat and then turns around to give her privacy, but he doesn’t even get to take a step before she grabs his hand and pulls him back. He opens his mouth to ask what else she needs, but he is met with her lips pressing against his, hard and needy and he wastes no time to return the kiss just as passionately. His arms curl around her tightly, like an armor, ready to protect her from anything and everything. 
They stumble into the bathroom and she pulls away, just enough so that she can start stripping out of her clothes, but Harry stops for a minute before things get too heated too fast.
“Wait, are you… Today was a lot, are you sure you… want to…?”
“I’m sure. I need this,” she nods and even though she appears just as vulnerable as before, there’s some kind of strong will mixed in her state now. Harry stares back at her, looking for any kind of sign that this might be a bad idea, but then she adds: “I need you.”
And Harry knows in that moment that he would give her anything in this world, because he fell for her again, but this time, it’s nothing like he has ever felt before.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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Take My Heart
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Summary: Working as a waitress in one of the most popular night clubs in the city seemed like a breeze. Then you’re asked to work the infamous dark rooms where you meet the owners, and you catch the eye of one of them, Joel Miller, whose one of the most feared men and rules the city
Pairings: Reader x Joel Miller
Warnings: cursing, mention of sex, mention of sex toys, drinking, and mention of drugs
A/N: If anyone wishes to create a banner for me for this series I would greatly appreciate it, and of course you will be given full credit for it! Message me if you are able to do so! Thank you so much everyone and enjoy! XOXO
Hall Of Hunks
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"Your late." The bartender Eric nagged as soon as you walked over to the register to clock in for the night. "Again."
"Yeah yeah I know." Waving him off as he laughed at you.
"How do you manage to be late all the time when you live just down the block?" Raising an eyebrow at you.
"You think this makes a lot of tips looking like one of the undead?" Motioning your pointer finger around your face.
"I don't think the guys are really looking at your face babe."
"Well this helps too." Pushing your boobs up for emphasis.
"How you are still single is baffling to me." His words holding more meaning than what you realized.
Dressing provocatively was a part of the job. Hiring pretty girls showing off their bodies to a bunch of drunk and horny men was how the club stayed so successful. Granted a lot of clubs were like that, but there was something about this club that was different. Something this club offered to their guests that kept them flocking in.
It was called the dark rooms. Watching as different girls were pulled into one of the rooms men leaving with satisfied looks on their faces. All you were told was that their VIP's hung out there, but you had a very good idea as to what happened behind those black curtains.
Throwing your purse behind the bar where you usually kept it knowing it would be well looked after. Not that you had much money or anything for anyone to steal. None the less it still was money to you.
The club was incredibly packed tonight, and you knew the tips were going to be amazing. It wasn't just exactly an ideal job, but being a bottle service girl was about as good as you were going to get. You didn't have any family or friends so you didn't have anyone to turn to.
"You don't think she'll be pissed do you?" Now actually starting to worry this time she wouldn't be nice.
"Nah I think you'll be fine."
"God I hope so my rent is due this week so I need the money."
Even though you didn't have the best apartment it was better than nothing, and unfortunately it was also an expensive one. It was better than nothing at this point.
"You're lucky she likes you."
"Ya know when you're perfect." Sending a cocky wink over to him as he shook the mixer over his shoulder.
"Oh yeah what would we do without you." He sarcastically spoke.
"Oh shut the fuck up Eric you wish you were like me." Flipping your hair back over your shoulder with a grin.
"Get to work before you actually get in trouble this time." Throwing a dirty rag at you causing you to burst into laughter.
Walking by the crowded tables as you headed into your bosses office to let her know you were finally here. Hoping that this time she wouldn't be actually mad at you since you really needed the money.
"Beth." Knocking lightly on the cracked door to see her sitting there typing away on the computer. "Hiya."
"Don't even try it." Looking up from the computer with a straight face.
Bowing your head as you awkwardly stood there with your hands behind your back. It was like your parent had just caught you doing something you shouldn't have, and you didn't know what was about to happen.
"I'm sorry."
"Of all nights you had to be late again." Standing up from her chair walking over to you.
"I'm sorry I took longer than what I thought." Apologizing again more sincere this time.
"You know how important tonight is for me."
"What's happening tonight?" Scrunching your brows.
"The owners are coming here." Answering bewildered that you didn't know. "So everything has to be perfect."
That explains her behavior the past couple of weeks, and why she had been frantically running around the club stressing over small things that she never did before.
"The owners?"
"Yes the owners. The ones who own this fucking club." Running a hand through her hair frantically. "The Miller Brothers. Tommy and Joel Miller."
"Never heard of em."
"They're powerful men in this city. Nobody fucks with them." It sounded more like a warning to you.
"They don't sound that scary to me." Crossing your arms across your chest.
"God you're so lucky you're pretty." She scoffed as she walked back over to her desk.
As she sat back down you took that as he way of dismissing you. Turning back to the door about to head out when her words stopped you in your tracks.
"Oh you'll be working the dark rooms tonight. One of the girls called in sick so I need you to cover for her."
"What?" Eyes wide open now. "But I've never worked the dark rooms before. I don't know what to do."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She reassured you as you took a sigh of relief. "Just know that men pay very good money to have a pretty thing to wrap their arm around."
You knew exactly what kinds of sinful acts took place in the dark rooms, and the thought of some sleazy businessman paying you for sexual favors made your skin crawl. That wasn't the kind of thing you did or would put yourself through.
"What if they force me?"
"That's why we have security and cameras to make sure the girls stay safe."
"Why can't you ask one of the other girls?" Asking her in hopes she might ask someone else.
"Because they aren't as attractive as you."
"What if I don't want to work the dark rooms?"
"Then you better start looking for another job." Her tone serious and her eyes scowling at you that she wasn't playing around.
The two of you staring at each other as you contemplated whether this job was worth it or not. You could use some extra cash, but the thought of one of those men touching you against your will made your stomach churn. She did tell you that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but then you'd be missing out on a lot of money.
It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having an angel on one shoulder, and the devil on the other. This would just be a one time thing though. So maybe it wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.
"Okay I'll do it." She smiled upon hearing that.
"Good. Go find Kara and she'll give you the rundown of everything."
Not saying anything else you simply nodded and took your leave. Your heart was racing and your palm was sweating already feeling nervous about what could happen tonight. Things could go smoothly or they could be a nightmare. Either way you just wanted this night to be over.
Looking around the club for Kara. Trying to spot her wild curly red hair through the sea of people. Finally spotting her talking to a group of men at a table. Flashing her pretty smile and placing a hand on their arms clearly trying to get a bigger tip.
Kara had been here longer than anyone else, and knew how to work her charm on the customers. She had also worked the dark room more than anyone else either. So you knew that she was making good money.
You'd exchanged conversation with her from time to time, but never really got close with her. She was friendly enough, but you knew she wasn't in this job to make friends, but make a shit load of money.
"Hey Kara." Shouting her name as she turned around to see who called her name. "I'm working the dark rooms tonight and Beth said you'd help me."
"Perfect follow me." Showing off her whitened teeth as she headed up the stairs you following right behind her.
"So you're working the dark rooms tonight huh?" She sounded almost amused when she asked.
"Yeah I guess so."
"Do you even know what happens in the dark rooms?" Stopping at the top to face you.
"I have a pretty good idea what happens." Your response making her grin.
She could tell just by looking at you that you were like a scared little bunny. Just the thought of going into one of these rooms petrified you. Let alone a man requesting you to stay in the rooms.
"There are different kind of rooms." Stating as you now stood in the hallway noticing some had curtains for doors. "Some rooms have dance poles. Some rooms just have large couches for relaxing, and some rooms have toys in them."
"Toys?"
"Yeah ya know sex toys and all that." Jesus Christ this place was much darker than what you thought.
"Then there's the VIP room." Standing in front of a deep and dark red double door. "Only the owners can access this room. They have it locked at all times, and they each have a key."
"What kind of men are these guys?" Asking her but not really asking her.
"The kind of men women want to be with and the type that men are scared of."
"Have you ever met them?"
"Yeah I did once." Reminiscing about the time they came in and you could practically see the drool coming out of her mouth. "Joel doesn't ever request any of the girls."
"Why not?"
"It's not really his thing." The two of you heading back down to the stairs. "Besides that man never has had to pay for sex."
"Right."
"So what exactly all do I need to do?" Asking her as you started to walk back down the hall.
"All you gotta do is smile and look pretty." That didn't sound too hard to do. "Bigger tips if you sit on their lap and let them touch you by the way."
Never mind.
You didn't know whether to take her words as a warning or not. The way she said it made it sound like that man always gets what he wants no matter what. The thought of meeting this man had your stomach churning.
Staring at yourself in the mirror trying to compose yourself as time was getting closer. Taking a shot of tequila to calm your nerves just a little bit. For all you know these could be incredible dangerous men, and your about to walk right into the lions den.
Maybe they wouldn't take a second look at you and leave you all alone. That was wishful thinking though considering these men were powerful and some of them were owners. It would be in your best interest to not say no to these men.
"Y/N let's go, there here."
Your stomach was doing somersaults now. Palms were starting to sweat, and your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. There wasn't any chance you'd be able to slip out of there. You were just gonna have to suck it up, and get the night over with.
Maybe it would be a piece of cake, and the night would be over before you know it.
"Here bring them this bottle." Eric handing you a tray that had shot glasses and a bottle of very expensive tequila as you walked past the bar.
"I didn't even know we had this here." Examining the chic looking bottle like you were holding diamonds.
"Nobody else can order that except them." Pouring liquor into a martini glass. "You better get moving they don't like to be kept waiting."
"Which room are they in?"
"First room on your left." Nodding as he gave you an encouraging smile.
Trying your best to not trip or drop the glass as you cautiously walked up the stairs to the rooms. Not knowing exactly how many men were going to be in this room.
As you approached the room you could already hear deep voices talking. Sounding like there were multiple men in there. Noticing there was four shot glasses which suggested to you that there was four men. Which wasn't too bad you've dealt with almost triple the amount of men before.
"There she is." A voice boomed as soon as you stood in the doorway.
"Where's the other girl?" Not knowing who said that as your eyes were focused on the ground.
"She called in today so Beth has me working." Answering quickly your voice quivering.
"Remind me to thank Beth." The same unknown person said making your cheeks heat up at the compliment.
Finally looking up to look at them as the red and blue lights illuminating their bodies as they sat around a table. All of them were wearing very nice suits, and their hair was styled back. They were all very good looking men, but there was one who immediately caught your eye.
He was incredibly handsome in almost a he didn't seem real. Like he was hand crafted by the gods himself, and he wasn't actually a human being. He was too perfect for words. Trying not to drool being in the same room as him.
His honey brown eyes had been staring at you since you walked in the room. Following you as you placed the glasses in front of them, and pouring them each a shot. Trying your best not to shake under his intense gaze.
The other three continued to talk as if they couldn't care less about you being in here. Which oddly made you feel relieved that they weren't trying to harass you or anything like that.
"Cheers to a good night boys." One of them toasted as they downed the first shot.
"Hell of a day." A man with tattoos on his neck continued.
"I can still see the look on their faces as we fooled them." The one that toasted said. "We totally had them by the balls they were so scared."
"Fucking idiots." The attractive one chuckled.
"Did they really just think we were going to just take the money, and not keep the g-." His voice cut off by an elbow being jabbed into his side.
"Shut the fuck up Don."
Okay that was a little weird. Obviously didn't want you to hear whatever he was about to say. Not that you would have really remembered anyway, since your mind was just focusing on getting the night over with.
Now you were feeling awkward not knowing if you had to stay in here. It wasn't clarified if you could come and go as you pleased. Not wanting to upset anyone by leaving, and they needed something. Two of these men were the owners you just didn't know who.
"Now for even more fun." Watching as the one who had tattoos on his neck pull out a bag with white stuff in it.
"Jesus fuck Andrew." The super attractive one groaned angrily.
"What?" Shrugging his shoulders as he continued to dump some on the table, pulling out a razor blade messing with the powder.
"What did I say about doing that here?" His voice stern in a warning tone.
"I mean you've said it but that doesn't mean I'm gonna listen." Cutting up some lines ignoring Joel's warning.
"I said not here." Raising his voice slightly.
"This is your club Joel." Ah so he was one of the owners. "Are you telling me I can't do this here? Or do you just not want the lady to see?"
Suddenly all four pair of eyes turned to your figure hiding in the corner. It felt as if now you were under some type of spot light. This was exactly what you were hoping to avoid, and now you were the topic.
"Andy knock it off." The fourth man spoke up. Noticing he had curly hair, and looked like he could be related to Joel. Maybe he was the brother.
"She doesn't need to see that shit." It was surprising that he was almost trying to shield you from the drugs.
"Like you don't snort this every other day Joel." He argued sarcastically back, and you could see Joel seething. "Or you either Tommy."
"I said not here." He didn't back down a vein popping out of his neck. "That's my final warning."
You could tell there was so much tension between the two of them. It was clear Joel was the man in charge, and this Andy guy was a trouble maker. The other two guys looked like they wanted to stay out of it.
Maybe Joel didn't want you seeing this cause you are new. Or maybe in a sense he was trying to impress you. It was probably because he didn't want you telling the cops on them or anything like that.
"What's your name sweetheart?" Andy smirking over at you ignoring Joel now.
Looking between the two men wondering if you should answer or just stay silent. Joel nodding his head signaling it was okay. Not sure why you were looking to him for approval anyway.
"Y/N." Sheepishly responding back to him.
"That's such a sexy name." Andrew smiled but his words just made you cringe.
"Thank you." Responding not wanting to make him angry.
That's when Andrew leaned forward more towards you giving Joel an evil look before turning his attention back to you. You could feel like things were just going to get worse.
"How would you feel about giving me a lap dance?"
Soon as the question left his lips Joel didn't hesitate to stand up, and stomp over to him ready to fight. The other two men standing up as well ready to hold him back from killing the man. Backing yourself up against the wall scared of what was about to happen.
Joel standing face to face with the man who just stood there smirking like he was winning. He acted like he wasn't terrified, but on the inside he was shitting his pants.
"What the fuck did you just say to her?"
132 notes · View notes
rafescurtainbangz · 4 hours
Text
Frat Rafe Headcanons +18 Minor DNI
Ask: @babygorewhore Baby I need more frat rafe headcannons please feed me mommy
Sorry this took me so long, babe. Thank you so much for your ask Also, if you haven't, please read @xxbimbobunnyxx frat carwash blurb you should because it’s so cute. Those carwash videos make me blush for reallll. And I swear I'll be dropping some pervfrat!rafe part 2 soonish
Also I dropped fic yesterday and didn't tag people 😭 here
unedited
Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation
Meeting Him…
Frat Rafe - Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn't say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.
Frat Rafe - Who couldn't take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.
Frat Rafe - Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.
Frat Rafe - Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn't take off your lips.
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Frat Rafe - Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn't stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.
Dating Frat!Rafe…
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Frat Rafe - Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.
Frat Rafe - Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you're begging him to let you cum.
Frat Rafe - Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.
Frat Rafe - Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he's drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it's downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.
Frat Rafe - Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:
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Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren't official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.
Frat Rafe - Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn't wait any longer.
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Frat Rafe - Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.
Frat Rafe - Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn't sleep and needed you.
Frat Rafe - Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he's not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.
Frat Rafe - Who doesn't trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he's meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you're at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.
Frat Rafe - Who texts you cute/horny shit when he's drunk and you're away.
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He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you're gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you're back.
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Frat Rafe - Who doesn't care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.
"C'mon, princess... Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you."
"Shh... Baby, I'd hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me."
“Bet he didn't think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”
He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.
Frat Rafe - Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.
Frat Rafe - Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he's wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn't take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.
Frat Rafe - Who couldn't wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends - each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.
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Frat Rafe - Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.
Frat Rafe - Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.
Frat Rafe - Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.
Frat Rafe - Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he's at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.
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Frat Rafe - Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where's he's mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.
Frat Rafe - Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.
Frat Rafe - Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.
Frat Rafe - Who couldn't keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.
Frat Rafe - Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you're all he wants and needs.
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Frat Rafe - Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.
Frat!Rafe - Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.
Frat!Rafe - Who won't just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.
Frat!Rafe - Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.
Frat!Rafe - Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn't care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.
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Masterlist
Pictures and texts from Pinterest
Tags: @voyeurmunson @romaescapes @gri959 @redhead1180 @h34rtsformilli @joannamuns9n @waywardsoul113 @marahgubler @akashababy @dckweed @humanvampire13 @drewstarkeyslut @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @imbabycowboy @rafesgiirl @obxbabies @cutielando @rafedrewandjjs @rafesthroatbaby @999ares9996 @oxpogues4lifexo @dilfswife @Dilfswife @chiaraanatra @ietss @drewswifeeee @theoraekenslover @niyahnotnia
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vodika-vibes · 2 days
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Howdy! 🤠
Super excited for this follower event! I loved reading the last event’s masterpieces, and I can’t wait for the ones produced from this event! 💕
For my request, could I get Wrecker with Tanzanite in the fall? It’s the perfect day for a cute fall date and they have so much planned, but fem!reader’s period comes early and very painfully. She tries to hide it and keep the date going, but Wrecker notices and changes their plans to make it more comfortable for her. Thanks!
A Change Of Pace
Summary: You have a date with Wrecker, a date you’ve been looking forward to for weeks. And, when your period comes early, you’re determined to make the date happen in spite of your pain.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader
Word Count: 765
Prompt: Tanzanite - Perceptive Love
Warnings: period talk
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Hihi! Sorry this took so long! This ask kept becoming invisible in my askbox. Apparently it's a thing that happens if you have more than a certain number of asks. I hope you like it~
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You grit your teeth as a sharp stab of pain makes you want to double over. 
It figures.
Isn’t this how it always happens? You look forward to something, and your period decides to arrive early.
You blindly take some pain medicine, and exhale slowly to try and ignore your pain.
This date with Wrecker has been planned for weeks. You are not going to let a little pain get in the way of having fun with the man you’ve been crushing on for even longer.
You quickly make sure that you’re presentable, which doesn’t take half as long as you thought it might, and you just step out of your bedroom when there’s a knock at your apartment door.
A quiet curse falls from your lips as there’s another sharp stab of pain, but you ignore it with the ease of someone who’s been dealing with these types of cramps for the large majority of your life, and you hurry over to the door.
A blinding smile crosses your face when you see the man standing there. He looks kind of sheepish, and is rubbing the back of his neck, but he looks genuinely thrilled to see you.
“Wrecker! Welcome back!” You move to the side to let him in your apartment.
“Thanks,” He steps into your apartment, his gaze sliding from one side of the room to the other, “Was worried that we weren’t going to get back in time.”
“Oh?”
“Tech broke something on the ship,” Wrecker replies lightly, it’s a lie, you’re sure. He doesn’t like telling you about the realities of war, having claimed, on more than one occasion, that you are his pretty oasis away from the war.
“Well,” You reply with a light smile, “I hope he fixed it.”
His gaze lands on you, finally, and a broad smile crosses his face. “Course, he always does.”
“Good,” You step around him, “I’m almost ready to go. If you give me about 15 minutes, we can head out to the Fair.”
“Looking forward to it,” Wrecker follows you into the living room and drops on the couch, “And you’re sure they’ll let me in?”
“Yeah, of course. I mean, they might not want you to do any of the games, but they’re all rigged anyway, so-” You grin, though it fades as another sharp pain makes you inhale sharply.
You hoped that you were subtle enough that Wrecker wouldn’t notice, but no such luck. 
“Are you alright, angel?”
“I’m fine, honest.”
He stares at you thoughtfully, taking in the way you’re holding yourself, and the way you’re trying to keep yourself from curling in on yourself, and his eyes narrow, “You’re in pain.”
“It’s normal.”
He pauses, “Your lady time,” Wrecker gets to his feet and walks over to you, “How can I help?”
You lift your chin, “We’ve had this date planned for weeks, Wreck. I’m not going to let a little pain stop me-” A particularly strong cramp has a string of curses falling from your lips in Ryl as you nearly bend in two, and Wrecker’s hands settle on your shoulders.
“You know,” His voice is light, conversational, “I’m kind of exhausted, it was a long trip from the outer rim. How about we put off the fair for a day?”
You hesitate, “Well, if you’re exhausted-” You finally say slowly, well aware that he’s lying to you to make you feel better about having to cancel your plans for the day. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”
He flashes a small smile at you and smoothes his hand over your hair, “We’ll both have more fun when you’re not doubled over in pain.” He says, very logically, “Now, how can I help?”
“Can you find my heating pad while I change into something looser?”
“Absolutely.”
Less than fifteen minutes later, you’re curled up on top of Wrecker, your heating pad squished between your bodies as you watch a movie together. He presses a light kiss to the top of your head and presses his hand against the small of your back, “Better?”
You just sigh, “I hope I don’t bleed on you.”
Wrecker laughs, “Ah, angel. Don’t you worry about that. If you do, it’s just a little blood. Not a problem to me.”
You shift and look at him, “You’re the best, Wrecker.”
“Oh, I know.” He grins at you, “But you make me better, angel.”
You flush and press your face against his chest, “If you’re not careful, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”
And he grins, “Well that is the plan, angel.”
54 notes · View notes
venturelovebot · 23 hours
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A/N: This took me longer than I wanted it to but it's finally done! That means there's only one fic left to finish before I open up requests again. :•) Enjoy!
Premise: Depressed!GN!Reader finds out they're not as worthless as they think they are.
Warnings: None! Pure fluff.
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You scribbled on the corner of the page to test your ink pen.
I have to vacuum the floor again soon. Dishes need to be done again today. I don't know what I want to make for dinner. More chores need to be done tomorrow. Is it even worth it anymore?
You pause. Every entry from the start of this week looked exactly the same. Flipping through the pages you notice that the beginning entries aren't much different either. Seems like every day has turned monotonous and bleak for you for a long time now. When you really think about it, when was the last time you were truly happy to wake up in the morning? Nothing came to mind.
The amount of hopelessness that filled your mind, body and soul was immense.
"Good morning!" Sloan sets down a coffee mug with a cat meme on it for you. Their smile had genuine happiness behind it– not something you could relate to.
"Good morning." You mimic their smile and watch as they take a seat next to you.
You're not sure how they could be so happy to wake up to the same burden every day of their life. Surely they must of thought you were baggage at this point. You were just waiting for the day they got tired of your presence and finally packed up and left. Everyone did. It was only a matter of time for them, too.
You bookmark the current page of your journal and close its cover.
"Don't forget your medicine!" They set your pill case next to your cat meme mug.
"Thanks."
They give you a kiss on the cheek.
You want to cry. Instead, you just watch as they take a seat next to you at the dining table for breakfast.
"Not hungry?" They ask.
They fork small bites of waffle into their mouth.
"I already ate." You lied.
"Oh? What did you have? I didn't hear you making anything."
You knew they were worried about you, but your brain didn't accept this.
"Just toast."
They're quiet for a moment. "Just toast?" They repeat.
"With jam. I'm not completely tasteless." You halfheartedly joke.
In order to dodge more conversation you open your pill case and down everything on an empty stomach.
"You have therapy today, right?" It feels they're playing a game of Twenty Questions.
"Yeah. I can make it there on my own, though."
"Well, I don't have anything to do right now. Why not let me take you?"
Right. You forgot. You were used to them being gone for weeks on end because of field work, studying or traveling. They took a couple weeks off to spend time with you. It seemed to be happening increasingly often as of late.
"It's alright, really. I don't want to bother you with it." You insist.
"It's not a bother! I promise!"
They're smiling again. It's hard to say no to that face.
"Alright."
...
Your therapist gives you back your journal after reading the last few entries. Nearly fifty minutes had already gone by and you don't feel like you've gotten everything off your chest yet.
"So, you feel like nothings gotten any better then?" They inquire.
"How are things supposed to get better at this rate?"
You collapse into the sofa and stare at the wall behind your doctor.
"I'm a burden. I can't do anything right. Everyone else already has everything figured out. What am I supposed to do? I'll never be good enough at anything."
Your therapist jots down everything you're saying before looking back up at you.
"If it's okay to ask... what do you want to be good at, exactly?"
You think about it. "Anything."
"Do you really think that's true, that you're not good at anything?"
You nod.
"You woke up this morning. You're breathing. You're very good at doing those two things. You're taking up space and existing. You're listening. You're feeling. You do these things without even thinking about them. Is that not a sign of skill?"
"That doesn't make me a worthwhile person, though." Tears start forming in your eyes and your therapist hands you the tissue box.
"You don't have to do anything well to be a worthwhile person. You exist, and that enough makes life worth living. If you want to learn more then you can, but knowing everything won't increase your value. You're valuable just by being here. Your worth as a human being is not determined by what you can or cannot do, or what you do or don't know."
Your therapist stays quiet as you sob into multiple tissues. It takes several minutes for you to calm down enough to continue your session.
"I still can't help but feel like a burden to everyone though." You still find it hard to speak after crying so much.
"Those who see you as a burden will never be worth your time. People who want to be around you will stay around you, even if they can't be present in your life at all times."
Rain begins gently tapping at the office window.
"... wouldn't it just be easier to shut everyone out, then?" You point out.
"Well, sure... but then you would never find out who truly loved you, or find others who are going to love you despite it all."
Another moment of silence passes between the two of you before the clock chimes in the distance.
"Same time next week I presume?" Your therapist fills out an appointment card for you.
"That sounds good."
...
You forgot your umbrella. The rain has already begun to pour.
Y/N: Alright. I'm ready.
💛lil meow meow💛: ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ
💛lil meow meow💛: ON MY WAY!!!
A car speeds by while you're waiting and splashes you from head to toe in puddle water. You're lucky enough that your phone case is water proof and that your journal is in your bag, otherwise everything would've been ruined.
Weird. You haven't thought about the positives in a long time.
You carefully wipe the droplets from your phone before another text message pops up.
💛lil meow meow💛: [Uploaded a photo at 3:56 PM].
It was a photo of you from behind.
💛lil meow meow💛: Omg? There's just a cutie pie standing outside? Do you think they're single?
You turn to look in the direction the photo was taken, then Sloan snaps another photo of you.
💛lil meow meow💛: OMG they noticed me!!!
💛lil meow meow💛: They're walking towards me!!!
You open the car door and the warmth hits your damp face.
"Wow. Now there's a cute person in my car! No way!" They grin and gesture over to you.
You can't help but smile.
"Sorry I wasn't fast enough to pick you up before the rain started..." They add.
They reach over to hold your hand and give it a comforting squeeze.
"It's okay. I can shower later." You reply.
You look out the passenger side window at the world covered in gray. The sooner you could get home, the better.
"So, how did it go?" They ask.
For a moment you replay the conversation with your therapist in your mind. You're not sure if you want to bring it up.
"Well..." You start to say, but you choke back the rest of the words.
Tears form in your eyes and you turn farther way from your beloved to hide them. You attempt to focus on the street lights passing you by instead.
"It was okay."
A brief silence passes between the two of you.
"You can be honest with me." There was a genuine concern for you in their voice that you were all too familiar with.
You bite your lip and think about your therapist again.
"Do you think I'm a burden?"
The question seems to come from no where for Sloan– but for you, it's all you've been wondering for a very long time.
"No! Of course not! Why would I ever think that about you?" They answer almost a little too defensively.
"Because you're smart, and you already have your life figured out– and I'm just a nobody, really..."
"No, you're not. Not to me."
You wipe the oncoming tears with your sleeves. The weight of the world comes baring down on your shoulders once again. Hot breaths escape between choking sighs and you can't stop yourself from sobbing all over again.
"I'm sorry–" That's all you could repeat, over and over again, like a broken record.
"[Y/N]..."
You can hardly hear them over the sound of your downfall.
The crisis seemed like it lasted forever to you. Everything you've been keeping bottled up for so long comes pouring out all at once without any warning. Even though your heart still hurts, you can feel it becoming lighter with every passing minute.
You can't form words. All you can do now is cry, cry, cry.
So cry, you did.
For minutes on end, tears flood out from underneath your swollen, bloodshot eyes. Your face was pink and pain pounded in your head from all the upset. It felt like forever until you were calm enough to form coherent sentences again.
"I'm sorry you had to see that." Once again you find yourself apologizing for things beyond your control.
"There's no need to say you're sorry. Let's just get inside so you can get out of those wet clothes."
You didn't even realize you had made it home already.
...
One mental breakdown, shower and ibuprofen later you felt like a brand new person.
In the same cat meme mug from this morning your beloved sets down some hot chocolate for you to help you cheer up.
"Do you want to talk about it?" They ask.
You can feel them wrap a blanket around you before sitting down and scooping you up into the warmest hug you've ever received. You close your eyes and melt into their affection while placing your head on their chest to listen to their heartbeat.
"I guess I just feel worthless most of the time." You admit.
"But why? You're not worthless to me. Not one bit." They comfort you the best they can.
You can feel Sloan place their hand on the back of your head and gently stroke your hair.
"I feel bad for taking time away from you. You have everything in your life figured out. I can't imagine why you still come around to visit me."
"Because I love you." There's a softness to their reply that makes your heart feel safe and secure. "I love spending time with you, so I take time off to visit you. If I didn't want anything to do with you I'd be gone already."
You think about their words for a minute and wish you had something equally as nice to reply with, but instead drowsiness begins to fog your mind.
You open your mouth to speak but a yawn escapes first.
"Rest, mi vida. Don't let those thoughts bother you anymore. I love you so much–" They place a kiss to your head. "– and I'll love you even more when you wake up."
They let you lay down and listen to their heartbeat for a little while longer.
"You mean the world to me. I don't care about anything else right now– just you. I'm here for you. Everything else can wait."
"Promise?" You nuzzle into their chest, ready to fall asleep at any moment.
"I promise. I'll write it on my tombstone." They reply.
"I'll hold you to that."
"You'll have to wait and see. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, first."
For the first time in a long time you felt yourself genuinely smile.
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im-smart-i-swear · 11 months
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Would the funky guys like listening to music? I feel like Buddy would cry listening to Moon will Sing by the Crane Wives
I really like the idea of the funky guys, pre-rescue, using singing to pass time - maybe tashi makes up silly little songs to make everyday chores more exciting for the kids, or eenek theaches everyone some galran songs(nobody except pal and soup really understand the words.. maybe thats for the better since i imagine galran songs that appeal to grief stricken 13 year olds arent suitable for kids lol), or pal has a memory of one of shiros favourite songs and sings it to the others, or soup hums melodies she overheard while being a gladiator to help taka fall asleep - JUST. singing as a love language.. good shit
and a very importrant thing to understand here is that none of them, een included, are good singers - theyre mediocre, bordering on pretty bad - but it doesnt matter! its about the human urge to connect! through music!! they sing their dumb songs and do stupid little dances and its great<3
post-rescue, suddenly they get access to practically infinite amounts of music from thousands of distinct cultures! but i think they generally stick to more mainstream stuff, the kind of songs you can sing along to with your family when it comes on the radio. tho buddy and taks(and also pal maybe<3) would propably explore more! .... oh. and taka definetly goes through an edgy phase at some point. so.... theres a lot of potential there
buddy is a sappy emotional trainwreck, they ABSOLUTELY get emotional over songs, so behold this historically accurate interpretation of him listening to the moon will sing for the first time:
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also!
tashi and buddy are The Embarassing Older Sibling Duo, and they often start to (very badly)(and loudly) sing and dance in unison when they hear a song they both like- all the while taks is yelling at them to stop being annoying<3
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this post is all over the place but oh well! i love em<3
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Text
Warning || Men Like Me
Masterlist
Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.
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Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 
Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 
Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.
Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 
That was where his troubles began. 
There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.
He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 
“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 
He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.
He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.
“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 
His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 
“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 
“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 
It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.
“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.
His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 
Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 
“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 
“Depends. Do you like it?” 
“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 
“Well then yes, I did make it.”
He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 
“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.
You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 
“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 
“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 
“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”
“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 
“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.
“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.
“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 
“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 
“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 
He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.
“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”
“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 
“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 
He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 
“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.
“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”
Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.
Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.
It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 
Wrong, wrong, wrong. 
You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 
He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 
Fucking disgusting. 
He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 
He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 
He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 
Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 
After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.
The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.
When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 
Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?
It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.
You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 
Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 
It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.
Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 
You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 
So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 
“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 
“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.
Oh fuck, his fucking arms!
“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”
He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 
“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.
Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 
“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 
“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 
He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.
“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 
You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”
“Old. Fifty six.” 
“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.
“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 
“I’m not a doctor yet.” 
“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”
“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.
“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”
“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.
“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 
You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 
“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.
“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 
“Like me.” 
“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 
“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 
“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.
“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.
“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 
“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”
“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.
“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 
“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 
“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 
“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 
“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.
“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 
⌘⌘⌘
It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 
You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.
So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 
You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.
She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.
You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 
Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 
You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 
You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 
He should leave. 
It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 
He should leave. 
Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 
But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 
His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 
Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 
“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”
He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.
Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 
No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 
Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 
He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 
“J-Joel?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  
Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 
“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 
“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 
“Touch me!” 
It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 
“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 
You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.
“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 
You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.
He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 
“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 
“Any man?” 
“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 
“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 
He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.
A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 
You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 
“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”
“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 
“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 
You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 
“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.
“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 
“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 
He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.
You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 
Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 
You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 
“Joel…” 
“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 
He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 
He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 
“Be a good girl from now.” 
That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.
Part 2
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coco-loco-nut · 13 days
Text
Revelations
pairing: Daniel x reader
summary: Daniel casually mentions his wife after 11 YEARS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Danny Ric comeback. 2025 season, he is back on rbr
request are open pookie masterlist part 2
—————————
Being an engineer for Red Bull was something else. You have been with them since you graduated college, and truthfully you never want to leave, the team is your family, having been with them for 11 years.
You met your husband through your job, both starting at the ripe old age of 23, and despite the potential HR violations, Christian Horner practically set the two of you up on a date after being oblivious about each other’s crushes. Thus began Red Bull’s best kept secret.
“Happy 10 years, Danny,” you kiss your husband, him watching you analyze data. Christian made him promise to never use you as a mole, and the two of you very quickly agreed. Even when he was on Renault and McLaren, work talk was kept quiet. Daniel had a great season last year and was brought back to Red Bull Racing, Christian promoted you to be his race engineer, knowing Daniel would listen to you.
“Happy 10 years, my love,” he hugs you tight. Your children are home in Australia with their grandparents for the weekend.
“Good morning, Ricciardos. Happy wedding anniversary,” Christian greets you, sitting for the pre-race meeting. Christian celebrates your wedding anniversary almost as much as you do, but he is a part of the family. He officiated your wedding at this track 10 years ago today, and he is the godfather of your eldest.
“Good morning, I printed out some data sheets so we can determine strategy. I noticed some unusual tyre degradation, while it could be from the unusually high track temperatures yesterday, it is something we should plan for today,” you start, passing out the papers. Daniel will never not be able to admire you. Sometimes he misses what people say because he stares at you, the exact reason Christian helped get you two together.
“Let’s grab some coffee then go on a track walk,” Daniel holds his hand out to you after the strategy meeting, you happily take it. After your lap around the track, you meet with the other engineers while Daniel warms up and does media. As you are watching the F2 race for valuable data, someone from PR comes over to you.
“Watch this clip,” she says and you oblige.
Daniel, you seem in better spirits than usual, care to share?
I don’t know mate, I am usually a pretty happy person.
Here I was thinking that maybe you finally had a girlfriend
Nah, I don’t think my wife would be happy about that… I wasn’t really supposed to say that. If you are watching, sorry! I’ll make it up to you, love.
Well, I hope there isn’t a couch in your future. Good luck today.
Thanks, but she’s put up with me for 11 years, I doubt there will be a couch in the future.
“Oh, he might have the couch tonight,” you laugh a little, honestly surprised it took 11 years for him to accidentally say something.
“Looking back at all the photos, he is wearing a wedding ring, how did we not see that?” You hear one of the Mercedes drivers say outside the garage.
“You saw the video?” Daniel asks as you playfully glare at him.
“I did. I have a winning strategy for you, so maybe you can move off the couch tonight. Lose and you stay there longer,” you tease. Being his race engineer helps so much because you can subtly say things and no one picks it up, and any interactions between you seem normal.
“Yes, Mrs. Ricciardo,” he smiles and goes to get changed for the race.
Last car in, good luck Daniel
I don’t need luck, I have you guiding my race
Ok, Daniel, whatever you say
The strategy works out well, and planning for the hotter heat was a smart move. Christian hasn’t told you not to race with Max, so you push Daniel for the overtake.
“Come on, honey badger,” you whisper. Daniel has had the better strategy and better pacing, all day so he easily overtakes and keeps the lead through the final five laps.
Okay Daniel, last lap, Verstappen behind, keep the pace.
Does this mean I’m off the couch?
Focus.
Sorry.
And that’s P1, P1 very good, Daniel. Red Bull 1-2. You are officially off of the couch.
LET’S GO! Thank you team! I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for the brilliant strategy, and for letting me off the couch. Best wife ever.
Mhmm. Happy 10 years. Parc Ferme is clear for you, pull in so the team can celebrate.
Let’s just say that F1 TV streaming your radio broke the internet, and the drivers when they all got out of their cars and into the garages. You followed the team to wear Daniel was parking and the team pushed you to the front. Daniel celebrated there with the team, taking his helmet off and kissing you. The team wolf whistles around you.
“Go to the podium, we will celebrate with you there,” you push him in the direction of where he needs to go. Unknowingly to Daniel, Red Bull chooses you to represent them for the Constructors Trophy.
“Mate, how did you keep that a secret?” Oscar asks Daniel in the debrief room.
“It wasn’t much of a secret. Everyone in Red Bull knows most of the relationship,” Max says and Daniel nods along.
“Honestly, I don’t know how people didn’t know,” Daniel laughs. The FIA tells them to start heading out to the Podium and Daniel searches the crowd for you when he steps out, but can’t find you. He’s shocked but extremely delighted when you step out and stand beside Oscar for the Constructors trophy. The mischievous glint in his eye is a loud warning that you will be sprayed with champagne. You happily stand through the national anthems, clap when Daniel is handed the trophy, and beam with joy as you are handed the second trophy. Soon enough you are presented with champagne and the go ahead to spray it is given.
“Max!” you squeal and hide behind him as you both spray Daniel.
“Quit hiding my wife!” Daniel laughs and in a split second, your cover is gone as Max moves to spray Oscar. You and Daniel both pour the champagne in each other’s mouth.
“Ew, that’s almost as bad as if you guys were to kiss,” Max laughs. Daniel gives you a devilish smile, pulling you close to him and capturing you lips with his.
“The kids are going to be so grossed out,” you laugh and Oscar looks almost horrified.
“THE KIDS?!”
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
Note
Heyy, hope you’re having a good day.
Don’t know if your requests are open but I really wanted to ask something. Could you write Oscar with baby fever, but like a lot, to the point that Lando knows about it and makes fun of him, and he is always trying to convince reader that they are ready to have a baby and how he would love to see her pregnant and obviously showing all the time vídeos o cute babies. Then to make it a little longer you could make some embarrassing moment of this baby fever, like Oscar getting flustered (or more lol) when seeing reader with a baby or like zac listening him saying some weird stuff, something like that yk. Then after months she accept. (If you are felling writing a little angst, you could write in the same one or another part, they trying to get pregnant but they can’t and Oscar gets very frustrated and ends up venting with Lando or so and little time later they discovered she is pregnant just to end in a cute way).
If you like the idea and decide to write it, feel free to make any changes you desire, I love your writing and I’m sure you’ll make my idea a thousand time better. Thank you <3
It is CRIMINAL how long it took me to answer this superb request.
Let’s Have A Baby, Baby (OP81)
Summary: There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.
Warnings: sexual conversations, language, Oscar has no filter at all, an extremely graphic and sexual conversation that has Zak traumatized (pray for him), tooth rotting fluff idk where any of this came from
Note: i didn’t put any angst in this because THIS WAS TOO CUTE TO ADD ANYTHING BAD THIS COUPLE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF HAPPINESS AND MORE WITHOUT ANY COMPLICATIONS I MEAN IT.
How do you tell someone having a child at the ripe age of 22 is not a good idea?
Y/n sat at the end of the bed, watching Oscar pace back and forth as he rambled about how much he wanted to get her pregnant.
“Baby, you’d look so pretty. Please? You know how good the sex would be.” He turned toward her, eyes holding hers as he looked at her with his persuasive doe eyes.
Y/n groaned as her head fell back, “Osc, the sex is already good. Why do we need to add a child to the mix?”
Oscar fell to the floor, kneeling in front of her with his hands resting on her knees as he tilted his head, “Because it’ll be fun! And you could dress them up in little clothes and…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting toward the floor before meeting hers once more, “We’d be a family.”
Y/n’s lip pouted out, emotions running strong in her body as her boyfriend held her hands so tightly, “Oscar,” She rubbed lightly over his cheekbone, “I would love to be a family with you, make a family with you, but I just don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Your career is just taking off and I’ve just barely started to figure out what I want to do with the degree I just earned. It’s not the right time.”
Oscar sighed, head lulling forward and into her lap, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”
Y/n smiled softly and folded forward, planting a kiss into his hair as she scratched at his scalp. “This doesn’t mean I don’t ever want kids, you know?”
He gave a small smile into her lap before looking up at her, “I know. I think I’m just a bit crazed with baby fever right now. You’re right. It’s not a good time to have a whole ass kid now.”
Y/n giggled, “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Oscar stood up, moving to sit beside her on the bed. His arm hooked around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing her hair quickly as he murmured, “I still think you’d look good pregnant. With my kid, to be precise.”
“Y/n, are you seeing this?!” Oscar exclaimed as he shoved his phone in his girlfriend’s face. The TikTok he was showing her was of a little girl giggling continuously as, from what Y/n could gather, the child’s father tickled her stomach.
She blushed, “Yes, very cute, baby.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, “Exactly. Baby. I want a baby.”
“Mate…” Lando said with exhaustion, his head lulling back onto the couch he was sprawled out on. The McLaren crew members off to the side, getting coffees from the hospitality center, snickered.
Oscar’s head snapped to his teammate, “What? You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend to have a kid with.”
“Oscar!” Y/n yelled, hitting his arm as a warning while Lando just keeled over in laughter.
His face was red as he got out, “Oscah! Who taught you to talk like that?!”
Oscar just smiled, “You.”
Lando leaned back, gasping for breath as he came down, “Does that mean I can be its uncle?”
Oscar shook his head, “I’m thinking godfather.”
Y/n scoffed, “We are not having a child! Stop dreaming of something that is not going to be happening for a few more years.”
Oscar shot her a quick glance with a grin, “Just wait till I give you a preview of what having a kid could let us do and I’m sure your mind will change.”
Lando’s mouth fell open, “I need to be removed from the country after hearing that come out of your mouth.”
“Oscar, there is something mentally wrong with you.” Y/n hit his arm once more, shooting him a warning look.
He sidled up to her, “Think a baby could fix that?”
Y/n groaned and Lando laughed, “OSCAR!”
“Y/n! Oscar! Do you guys think you could watch Mila while Sav, Ollie, and I all go for a walk on the paddock?” Lando asked hesitantly, eyeing Oscar with his niece in his arms.
From the way they were staring at each other, Y/n knew Oscar had put Lando up to this. Nonetheless, she smiled, “Sure!”
Oscar beamed.
Y/n took Mila from Lando’s arms, turning to Oscar as Mila stared after her uncle as he walked away. A shy child, Y/n knew Mila would do well with a bit of childish conversation.
“Mila, who’s your favorite? Uncle Lala or Oscar?” Y/n smiled, pinching Mila’s cheeks to draw a few giggles from the little girl.
Mila squealed, “Uncle Lala!! Lala!”
Y/n’s heart warmed at the way the cute child screaming the sweetest nickname. Oscar looked down at his girlfriend and, in his delusions, their child.
He cocked his head, “You fall into the role quite well.”
His comment went ignored by his girlfriend as she continued poking Mila lightly, laughing along with the young girl as her head fell into Y/n’s chest from the tickling.
Y/n smiled up at him before turning around, wandering off into the McLaren garage with Mila still tucked under her arm. Oscar wished he could take a picture. Save it for later. He loved everything before his eyes.
When he was done getting lost in fairy land, he jogged in the direction his girlfriend had taken. What he found was a sight so dear to his heart. Y/n in conversation with Mark, a sleeping Mila in her arms. Part of the reason why he loved the image so much was how comfortable Y/n looked, how Mila laid against her body so easily and how Y/n swayed as if it was second nature.
He wished she could see what he saw.
Mark nodded at him as he came to stand next to Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist and trying to decipher the topic of conversation. “You’re talking about Otmar leaving Alpine?”
“Yeah, good riddance.” Y/n sighed, hand rubbing up and down Mila’s back.
Oscar squeezed her hip softly, “I want to leave that man in my past.”
Mark rolled his eyes, “Don’t we all.”
“There isn’t any corner of the world he could be that is too far from us.” Oscar murmured, face grimacing at the thought of the horrid man.
Y/n laughed and kissed his shoulder, “It’s okay, Osc. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
Mark nodded along, eyes entranced with the picture in front of him. He knew Oscar yearned for kid with Y/n, but it had never looked so real before. The boy he had watched grow up, helped fight for, had all of a sudden grown into a man who pushed for children with his girlfriend. Mark knew Oscar was still young, too young for kids, but it still felt a bit odd to see him as someone’s father. It was sobering to see Oscar, his girlfriend, and a child all at once, in a position that made them look like a family. Truthfully, a part of him felt at peace to know the war was over. Oscar had found a seat, a team that prioritized him, and a person who loved him wholly. There was no need to worry about Oscar anymore. What was he to do now?
“Can I take a picture of you two really quick?” Mark asked, a question so surprising Oscar and Y/n shared a strange look.
“Sure?” Y/n said, not fully understanding the reason behind his request.
Mark moved back an inch, position his camera as Y/n and Oscar smiled. Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder while Mila stayed in her arms, still asleep against her body. He turned his camera around to show the couple what he had just captured and Y/n’s heart squeezed. Oscar almost screamed and ripped his hair out. He wanted what this picture implied so badly. With her.
He kept his composure, “We look cute, no?”
Y/n hesitated, a lingering grin on her face as she stared down at the image. Though, her smile lengthened and she tilted her head, “Can you send that to me?”
Oscar was in rare form. From the moment he had woken up, he was making suggestive comments in Y/n’s ear. To put it shortly, he was horny for the woman by his side. When Oscar got like this, he became impulsive and threw caution to the wind. Therefore, Y/n wasn’t surprised when he started rambling to her in the middle of the McLaren garage.
“All I’m saying is that you would look damn good carrying my kid.” He giggled, hand dangerously low on her back.
“Oscar…” She whispered, eyes darting around them in an effort to show him how public he was making their conversation.
He shook his head, “No one can hear what I’m saying. They’re too wrapped up in their work. They don’t know that I’m telling you how good it would feel to fuck you raw.”
She blushed, “Oscar,” She tried once more, though her voice was beginning to lose his edge.
His hand brushed her hair out of the way, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Do you like that idea? Like the thought of me coming inside of you? Like the thought of everyone knowing you’re mine because you’re carrying my child?”
Her hand brushed up against his abs as she turned to look at him, his eyes boring down into hers. “Oscar, you are working.”
“So? We can go try for one right now, love. Just say the word.”
She tried to hold her composure, “Oscar, you are so bold.”
He kissed her softly, “Yeah? Or am I just attracted to the idea of seeing my cum leak out of you? I’d fuck it back into you with my fingers. Make sure it takes.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but her insides clenched together.
He tried once more, “I can tell you want it. I can feel your skin getting hotter under my hands,” He brushed his fingers against the skin peeking out from her crop top, “I could be feeling you cum around my bare cock too.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but a loud throat clearing stopped her.
Oscar froze, Y/n paled.
The couple turned their heads slowly behind them, Zak side glancing them from his place inches away from them. Oscar opened his mouth to apologize, but Zak put up his hand.
“I never want to talk about this ever again.” He said, his voice so sharp it could cut ice.
Oscar’s hand flew to his mouth, “Zak, I’m so incredibly sorry. That wasn’t meant to be hear-”
Zak shook his head, “Oscar, I don’t care what the hell you do on your free time. Hell! I think it’s endearing how much you want to have kids with your girlfriend. But, I swear to God,” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “If I have to hear you talk about doing anything physical with your girlfriend, I will give you a bad car.”
Oscar nodded shortly, “Understood. I’m so sorry.”
Zak grimaced and shivered before giving the couple one last glance. A whisper loud enough for them to hear, “I’m so unsettled.”
Oscar turned back to his girlfriend. The woman so horrified, she refused to look at him.
He tilted his head, “It’s not that bad?”
Y/n snapped her head up at him. Her gaze fiery, it turned Oscar on. “You will never speak to me when we are near Zak, yeah?”
She walked away before he could respond.
“Y/n, that’s insane!” He screamed as he ran after her.
Lando chuckled to himself at the scene. Not knowing what Oscar had said, but inferring from the way Zak stared at a trash can like he was five seconds from vomiting into it.
Oscar stared down at Y/n as they laid in bed together, post-sex haze slowly depleting. His hand pushed tangled hair out of her face as he laid small kisses on her face, “I love you,” He whispered.
She smiled softly, “I love you too.”
From the way his eyes softened, Y/n’s being found peace. When she was younger, she had been so convinced she would never find love, never find a man who wanted to love her. Part of her wished she could go back in time and show her 16 year old self a picture of Oscar, detailing the man she would later find. Even though they fought and he got her so annoyed sometimes, he would always live to show her that what she had thought was unrealistic in love, was completely attainable. She had loved romcoms, yearning for that kind of feeling for someone else, but she was always lectured on how impossible that was. Oscar was the living counter argument to that statement. From the way he looked at her to the delicate nature of how he held her hand, she was secure in his love for her. A child was a lot, but a child was also a statement of forever. She wanted forever with Oscar, he did too. She wanted to share something so intimate with him beyond sex and vulnerability.
She wanted a kid with him.
In the silence of the night, she lightly spoke the words, “I think I’m ready for a baby.”
A year later and the sentence finally met his ears. Oscar stared at the wall behind her for a moment before letting his gaze fall to her.
“What?” Is all he could find within himself. The woman and the words of his dreams, finally a reality.
She giggled, “I’m ready to try for kids, Osc.”
His hands flew to cradle her face. He shook her head lightly as tears flooded his vision. His voice broke, “What?”
He couldn’t begin to muster another syllable, the staring was all his body could take. He wanted to memorize the twinkle in her eye as she completed his world. He wanted to think back on this moment and remember the way her hand felt against his rapidly beating heart, the way his hands got lost in her hair, the smell of her faded perfume, and the sincerity in her words.
He kissed her lips, soft and gentle as tears fell from his eyes. When they pulled back, she laughed and wiped the wetness on his cheeks, “Why are you crying, baby?”
His mouth opened and closed before speaking, “Because we’re having a kid… and I’ve found you, found the person I know the rest of my life was meant to be shared with. I think I’m just…” He trailed off, trying to find his words amongst all the things swirling around in his body, “I always knew I would be proud of myself if I got into F1, achieved a seat in the sport. I thought that would be the greatest achievement of my life, the most proud I would’ve ever been of myself. But, that’s not true because, in this moment, I am so much more proud of myself for being worthy enough of you and having a kid with you than getting a seat in Formula 1. I never thought about who I would settle down with, but now that I know it’s you, I can’t believe it was ever something that wasn’t on my mind. You are everything I ever think about. The life awaiting us and whatever tries to ruin our plans, I want it all. You are the beginning and end of my life.”
Y/n’s eyes were teary by the end of his confession, feeling as if she was drowning in the love of the moment.
When they kissed again, it felt more solidifying. Solidifying in that tomorrow, when they were filled with energy again, they would try for a baby. Solidifying that sometime, whether that was five years in the future or next week, a positive pregnancy test would sit brightly on the counter of their bathroom, affirming the forever they already knew was in store.
(ONE MONTH LATER)
How do you tell someone they’re 23 and going to be a dad?
Y/n snuck through the McLaren building at the Australian Grand Prix. Lando was in tow behind her as well as Mark and Oscar’s family, all eight of them tiptoeing toward Oscar’s room with large smiles.
Y/n clutched the pregnancy test in her hands, palms sweating heavily moments before she presented Oscar with news that would send him into sobs. No doubt.
“That one,” Lando whispered, pointing toward a black door at the end of the hallway. When they reached it, Y/n turned back.
“Who’s recording?” She asked quietly as Mark smiled and shoved his phone out in front of him.
Y/n giggled, “Screenager,” before sending him a playful glance, her teasing out of love.
With another look to the group, her knuckles rapped on the door.
“One sec!” Oscar’s voice yelled, a few moments passing before he was flinging the door open with a smile. That smile, however, soon fell slightly at the sight of everyone he ever loved standing before him.
“Oh, no. What have I done?” He asked, face dropping as he made eye contact with his beaming mother. “What’s going on?” He asked, slightly confused at the manic faces of his family and closet friend.
“Oscar,” Y/n whispered, his attention drawing to her immediately.
His head cocked to the side, “Baby, what’s going on?”
Y/n smiled, “A baby.”
His confusion grew, “What do you mean ‘a baby’?”
“Oscar…” She said once more, hands shifting in their grasp.
In the tone of her voice, he found happiness.
“No,” He whispered.
Her hands came to rest between their bodies, the pregnancy test on clear display, “Yes,”
A very concerning scream erupted from Oscar before be flung himself into the arms of his girlfriend and, therefore, everyone behind her. There was loud squeals and laughter before Oscar pulled back.
“THERE’S GOING TO BE A BABY?!” He screamed, the volume bouncing off the walls and most likely down to the garage.
Y/n nodded, “OUR BABY!”
Another scream that Lando would have to make fun of Oscar for later. The couple hugged each other tightly, jumping and down in the most giddy way. Truly embarrassing for Oscar, according to Lando, but the Brit also knew how much his friend had pleaded for this.
It was clear in the way he choked back tears; clear in the way he held Y/n; clear in the way he stuffed the pregnancy test into his pocket, mumbling to himself about wanting to put it in a scrapbook for their first child.
Maybe the moment could have been left to just Oscar and Y/n, but, as they all conversed excitedly about nine months in the future, Oscar found everything he ever needed.
Formula 1 was a bonus.
This was his dream.
Y/n and Baby 1 were his drea-
Y/n and Baby 1 were his reality.
2K notes · View notes
neil-gaiman · 9 months
Note
Hi Neil,
I hope this doesn't get buried in the ask box, but if it does, I'll still be glad I sent this, just to know this little lengthy slice of complement and thanks existed in your inbox is enough. I apologize for the length, I am pretty sure the grammar is in tatters...and probably just the general awkwardness in advance.
Frist of all, congratulations for Good Omens Season2, it's a roaring success even here in this...I don't know, bottomless pit? I myself and some others fondly call it the PRC. The show didn't made pass the firewall officially, neither was Prime Video. People still managed to watch it eventually by VPNs, shared accounts and when times are desperate...sorry, piracy. Chinese fans, including myself, using every tool in the shed to try to fool Amazon™ and our goverment, just to watch this on Prime and try to help to manifest S3, is one hell of an experience. This kind of experience is pathetic, ridiculous....and somehow hilarious in a dark, gallows humor way, almost like some bad spy comedy, I just have to share it. Worth all the trouble by the way, the reward at the end of the back channel is...well, some divine comedy to say the very least. All in all, it's a brilliant show and a solid job well-done.
Then some of my personal gratitude. They say good art resonates with your soul, I now know this is just as true as matter and gravity. Since I know Good Omens certainly resonated with mine. I'll redact the typical "depression and anxiety reduced me to a husk, a shadow of my former self" story and get to the result for brevity's sake. I can't write anything meaningful while I know I took joy in writing, I can't finish reading anything longer than a brochure while I know I was such a bookworm in the past. Then I was compelled to get up in the middle of the night, wrote a full 5000 character long analysis after marathoned S2, and then write even more analyses in both Chinese and English. I picked up American Gods because I know I need more Neil Gaiman in my life and then impressed by myself for actually finishes it the second time 5 years later. I didn't know how exactly that happened through one watch of a TV show, but I know I am changed for the better. I grasped life again, and can start living again, somehow. The resonation just keeps on giving.
This is a quiet, gentle and romantic story, it is soothing, accepting, filled to the brim with love and kindness, and it makes me feel safe and accepted and loved in a way I never felt before. I thank you for it, and hope thart I may have the privlige to witness more of this miracle. Thank you Neil, Sir Terry Pratchett and the team for this miraculous book and this miraculous show.
谢谢。(I just had to say thanks with my mother tongue, it feels more earnest this way)
Thank you so much! I'm impressed by everything you and your countryfolk have gone through to watch it as legitimately as you could.
3K notes · View notes
iateyourparents · 5 months
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wiping kisses | c.b.
pairing: colby brock x fem!reader
summary: you decide to prank your boyfriend with wiping his kisses.
warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english is not my first language)
an: i present to you colby’s version of wiping kisses! here’s sam’s version!
pictures are from pinterest:)
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Your plan wasn’t exactly easy but you were determined. Your goal was to prank Colby.
You saw a tik tok where a girl pranked her boyfriend by wiping places where he kissed her. And you decided that you need to try it on Colby.
One thing about your boyfriend was that he was very affectionate. One of his love languages was touch and kisses so you knew he probably wouldn’t like you wiping his kisses. But you still decided to tease him.
You already knew it wouldn’t be an easy task - hell, you loved kissing him as much, if not more, as him, so just a single thought about wiping those places was difficult.
But you liked challenges so why not?
So here you were, sitting on a couch and busying yourself on your phone while Colby was editing in your sharing bedroom. You knew him like the back of your hand and from his groaning coming from upstairs you knew that no longer than five minutes later he will come to you, ask what to order for lunch and sit next to you just to ‘sneakily’ make his way into your arms.
It always looked like this on his days off.
True to your words, whole two minutes later he was hovering over you with his phone in hand.
“I will order lunch for us. What would you like?” he asked.
“What about some pasta?” you looked at him with smile which he reciprocated and nodded.
“Sounds good to me, baby.” then he sat next to you and started ordering on his phone “Should be here in thirty.” he stated.
“Alright, do you want something to drink?” you asked quickly when he tried to kiss your cheek and then you stood up and started making your way to the kitchen.
“Water, please.” you heard him shouting from other room.
You took water and your favorite drink from refrigerator and made your way back to Colby.
When you gave him his bottle and sat next to him, he thanked you quietly and kissed your cheek.
It took everything in you to lift your hand and wipe the place off.
Colby didn’t seem to notice anything weird and just placed his hand around your shoulders, leaning into you.
Next time he kissed you was maybe five minutes later. He just lifted his head from your shoulder and kissed said shoulder. And this time he noticed you wiping it since you had to change position to reach your hand there. He furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing when you hugged him again.
Couple of minutes later and he placed his arms around your waist to lift you and place you on his laps so now you were straddling him.
You placed your hands behind his neck but didn’t do anything else even though you knew he wanted you to start a kiss. He finally was done with waiting and started placing little kisses all around your face and when he stopped and you wiped all places he touched with his lips, he knew something was off but decided to keep quiet and see what will you do next.
But when you did nothing apart from smiling softly at him, he placed a delicate kiss on your lips just to deepen it a moment later. You reciprocated it but literally a second after you stopped kissing you wiped off your lips with the back of your hand.
“Is everything okay love?” you could see concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, why?” you asked innocently.
He shrugged “I don’t know, you seem…kinda off?”
“No, I’m okay.” you assured with a smile and laid your head on his shoulder.
He still wasn’t convinced but decided to just kiss side of your head. Again, you wiped it.
“Okay, what did I do?”
You lifted your head from his shoulder and tilted it “What do you mean?”
“You’re wiping my kisses off..” he whined.
“I do not?” you faked confusion.
“Y/n.” his ton was lower and you knew you were testing his patience.
“What?”
“Stop it” he kissed your nose and when you tried to reach your hand there he caught your hand in the air then doing the same to your other hand “What’s going on?”
“Nothi…”
“Don’t even try lying love.” he interrupted you and you pouted. Well, you kind of achieved your goal, he was irritated but you also felt bad seeing him upset.
“Alright” you smiled softly kissing his nose “I saw this prank with wiping kisses on tik tok and decided to do it on you.”
Colby analyzed your words and then shook his head with small smile.
“You’re lucky I love you so much because right now I want to throw you into cold water.” you only laughed at that. Then you kissed him and well, he no longer could found it in himself to even try to be mad at you.
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midnightcrw · 4 months
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Mood swings, cravings, and breakdowns
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Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader
Summary: How Simon reacts to the different aspects of your pregnancy
a/n: I'm sorry that it took a little longer for me to write this, but I still hope that you will like it. And thank you so much, it makes me so happy to know that you all like what I write. I'm also on the train right now to get back to Germany after a few days in Paris. (I accidently deleted the request because I changed some things up, I'm very sorry)
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At first, Simon was a nervous wreck when he found out you were pregnant.
It started with him panicking over every little thing you did or generally being more overprotective than he already was.
He even read and researched about the things that happen when someone is pregnant, and it didn't make it any less stressful for him.
And while he was nervous, you were pretty relaxed at the beginning of your pregnancy, nothing to complain about and nothing that could really make you feel anxious or stressed.
At first, Simon was a nervous wreck when he found out you were pregnant.
It started with him panicking over every little thing you did or generally being more overprotective than he already was.
He even read and researched about the things that happen when someone is pregnant, and it didn't make it any less stressful for him.
And while he was nervous, you were pretty relaxed at the beginning of your pregnancy, nothing to complain about and nothing that could really make you feel anxious or stressed.
But then you started acting different.
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"I love you," you said as you hugged Simon after he got you your favorite ice cream.
"I love you too," Simon replied as he gave you a kiss on the forehead, which made you smile up at him, which made him smile back.
As soon as you let go of him, you went into the kitchen to eat your ice cream, while Simon sat on the couch watching something on TV (probably 'the great british bake off' or something related to trash TV).
And for the first time in weeks, Simon began to relax as he sat on the couch. He was happy about the fact that you were feeling good, until...
"SIMON!" You suddenly yelled from the kitchen, causing your husband to immediately jump up and grab one of the guns he had hidden in your living room.
As he ran towards you with the gun in his hand, Simon saw you standing next to the counter with your spoon in your hand, causing him to raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"Love-," and before he could finish, you immediately cut him off.
"This doesn't taste like the one from last week," you said, suddenly taking on an emotional tone as you mumbled.
Simon frowned, "But that's exactly the one I bought for you," he exclaimed, still holding the gun, but now pointing it down.
Suddenly your face became stern as you glared at him, "You don't love me! You couldn't even buy me the ice cream I really wanted!" You hissed in an aggressive tone.
"But that's what you wanted!" He argued with you.
"No!"
"Yes, it is-"
And then you threw your spoon at him, which he couldn't even dodge because he was surprised.
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Simon never judged you for anything, no matter how weird you might act, he would never judge you.
But this one was a breach too far.
You were sitting on the couch while eating pickles with Nutella.
PICKLES WITH NUTELLA.
Simon had never been so disgusted in his life. He couldn't even look at you as he avoided your form with his eyes.
"Want to try?" You asked him as you continued to eat the offensive looking combination to human kind.
"NO," Simon immediately rejected your offer without even trying to say it softly.
You just stared at him in confusion, but shrugged and asked him if he could bring you some more pickles since you had already finished them.
And just like a good husband, Simon got up and went to the kitchen to get you some more.
Even though he was disgusted by the combination, he would still get you whatever you wanted.
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The day had actually gone well. Everything seemed fine and nothing was out of place.
But your mind was really starting to get to you.
Whenever you heard anything remotely about childbirth, the potential complications that could arise, or even being a mother at all, you began to fear what might happen.
And even though you knew everything was going well, you still couldn't help but be afraid.
"What's wrong, love?" A gruff voice was heard as you looked up from the bed at Simon, who had just finished getting dressed for bed.
"Nothing," you mumbled, trying to smile, but it only made you more emotional as you suddenly started to sob.
Without a second thought, Simon immediately walked towards you to engulf you in his arms.
Your face was now resting on his broad chest while one of his hands held the back of your head and the other stroked your back in slow circles.
"Shh, it's okay, love. Cry as much as you want," Simon whispered into your ear, pulling you closer as you heard his heartbeat.
"I'm afraid to be a parent. What if our baby hates me? Or if I can't be there for them? Or-" you sobbed as Simon interrupted you.
"You're not going to be a bad parent. That baby inside of you is going to love you so much. You always reassure me when I'm scared, so you shouldn't have to worry about anything. Where is the strong and confident woman I know?" Hearing Simon's words, your hands clenched around his shirt, your heart racing as you processed what he had said.
"Still here," you said, your voice a little more normal now after the crying.
"Good, because this is the woman I fell in love with."
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authorhjk1 · 2 months
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Dea Romana
(Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader)
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(Author's note:
Hi everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for me! I'm done with writing my exams now, so I will be able to write more again until Juli. Since I like history a lot, the beginning got a bit longer than originally planned, but I hope you will be able to enjoy it nonetheless. I tried to make everything as historically accurate as possible, but please don't expect everything to be true.
Stay healthy! I will do my best to upload the next piece as soon as possible!)
Every muscle feels like it's burning. Your legs and arms feel heavy. Your feet barely lift off the uneven ground with every step you take.
Dried blood stains your face. Your armour doesn't look much better. The shield you are holding, has a big dent in it. The javelin in your right hand feels like it's made out of steel. The chainmail on your chest weighs heavier than usual.
"Marius!"
Your second in command shouts at you from the back.
"The women need a break!"
You sigh in annoyance. It's bad enough that you almost got your whole century killed. Now you have to delay your reunion with the rest of the legion because of those Gaul captives.
"We will take a short break."
You announce to your eighty legionaries and the twenty rebels you captured.
Spotting a small stream near by, you walk closer, while most of the soldiers sit on the ground, some are standing guard.
Taking off your helmet, you start to wash your face. The dried blood sticks to your skin. After some effort, you are just a little bit cleaner.
Another sigh leaves your lips as you kneel in place. In front of the small stream, your century in the back, looking into the deep forest.
You have lived a hard life. You were not born a Roman. Not born a free man. But you took your life into your own hands, instead of hoping for the mercy of the gods. Because gods don't have mercy. Only you can change your own destiny.
"Let's keep marching. We are almost there."
You go back to the front of the century, your men following your orders. Most of the Gaul rebels you captured are women and children. Their husbands and fathers killed by your swords and javelins.
Orders are orders. To kill or to be killed. These are the only two principles you live by. At least most of the time.
"Have you heard yet?"
Quintus asks from behind you, catching your attention. You silently wave for him to walk next to you. It's not necessarily the gossip you're interested in, but you did learn that it's important to know what is going on inside your century and the legion itself.
"Aelius fucked up some of his soldiers."
You raise your eyebrow while you keep walking. Nothing new there. Aelius is a spoiled son of a whore. He only became centurion in the tenth, because of his family's status. And he is usually unnecessarily brutal with his century.
"Reason?"
"They ate some of the extra rations we all got a week ago. Aelius said that they are meant for centurions only. Not for legionaries."
You have to stop yourself from spitting onto the muddy path you are walking on.
Aelius paints the perfect picture of the Roman nobility. Rich assholes. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"Did he kill someone again?"
Quintus shakes his head.
"But I heard that the premus pilus had a talk with him."
You let out a dry chuckle.
"All the centurions of the first cohort are the same. Do you really think he got in trouble?"
"No. But I thought you would be interested. It's not like you have very good connections with-"
"Shut it, fool."
It's not really a secret in the tenth legion that you and Aelius are bitter rivals. The two of you are the completely opposite of one another. A rich brat, who is the centurion of the third century in the first cohort. And you. The former slave, who climbed the ranks to be the centurion of the first century in the second cohort.
There aren't many ranks that separate the two of you. But making the jump into the first cohort as a former slave is nearly impossible.
Your century walks in almost complete silence for the next couple of hours. Despite being one of the most feared soldiers in the legion, you can't help but be cautious. In case there are more rebels lurking in the shadows of the large trees.
"Marius!"
The scout you send out to check the path ahead is jogging in your direction.
"We take another short break."
A light murmur of gratitude echoes through the ranks.
You wait for the young man, barely older than a boy, to reach the spot where you are standing.
"Someone seems to be traveling towards the camp. Our paths are going to cross, once we reach the small clearing ahead."
"Do you know who it is?"
"It looked like a person from the nobility. There was a carriage. And a couple of men with spears. Probably guards."
"We can't be too cautious. Titus!"
You shout for your second in command to walk to the front.
"Take your contubernia and make fast pace. I want to make sure that everything is going according to regulations."
"Yes, Marius."
The rest of the century starts marching at normal pace again, while the eight men rush ahead. The scout leading them towards the small crossroads.
"You know what's going on?"
You shake your head at Quintus' question.
"Might be a politician from Rome. Or a nobleman's wife."
"You know that that's against the law."
Of course everyone knows. It's illegal for a legionary to be married. And yet, some centurions always think that they are above the rest of the legion, when it comes to this kind of rules.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
An angry shout echoes around the forest, just as you and your men reach the small clearing.
The scout was right. A carriage, pulled by two grays, accompanied by a handful of men, armed with spears, and some servants.
An older woman is standing in front of the carriage's door, screaming at the poor Titus. Glancing over his shoulder, your optio rolls his eyes.
"Woman. Don't scream at a Roman legionary."
You make your presence known as you keep walking towards the middle of the clearing.
The servant, probably around forty to fifty years of age, looks at you with anger in her eyes.
"Do you even know, whom you are holding up?!"
"No."
You state bluntly, finally standing in front of her. Behind you, you can hear your men take their positions. Not to threaten the travelers, but to guard the area.
"Well, she is one of the most prestigious women in all of Rome."
"And what is a woman like her doing so far away from the city?"
"Visiting her husband."
You click your tongue. As far as you know, none of the centurions in the first cohort have wives. Which means, she must be the woman of a centurion, who ranks lower than you.
A smirk, which you can't suppress, plays around your lips. How are you able to enjoy a higher position than a noble in this republic?
You walk off without another word, leaving Titus in charge. There is no need to bother with this stuff. Some of the Gaul rebels fell a little behind earlier. You have to check on them. In case they are sick or badly injured.
"Her name?"
You hear Titus ask, before the woman let's out an exaggerated gasp.
"Sana Lucii."
You groan in annoyance. By Jupiter. Is this really his wife? Lucius Aelius? Just when you thought, you couldn't hate that man even more.
You despise men, who don't follow the law and rules of the republic and the legion. Of course, sometimes you can define them a little different for your own gains, but this is just breaking them.
Trying to stay calm, your fingers tap the pommel of your gladius. You don't hear a response from Titus. He must know which Lucius the old woman ment.
"Marius?"
He finally makes you turn around.
You walk back up towards the carriage, just as the door opens.
"By Bellona! What is taking so long!"
You have to say, you are amused by the woman's expression. You didn't expect her to call out for the goddess of war.
"Just doing our duty, lady."
Titus answers politely, although you know how hard it is for him to not lash out. He hates Aelius just as much as the next soldier. Especially, since he is your optio.
You are stunned, once the woman actually shows herself. Her beautiful face is slightly twisted with annoyance. Although, you would be sure that she could look like Venus herself, when she smiles.
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She is wearing a turquoise stola, which also covers her brown hair. The thin material enables you to have a look at her white tunic underneath. Her skin looks flawless and pure. A golden necklace adorns her neck and collarbone. It's probably worth more than a whole year of your salary.
An image of a goddess.
"I hope we can speed up this process. I'm supposed to be by my husband's side."
Lucky bastard.
"Please. Speak respectfully with my legionaries."
Her gaze meets yours. You can feel your heart skipping a beat. Not one woman has looked as pretty as she does. Not one.
"Who are you to lecture me on speaking?"
"Salve."
Your fist meats the blood stained chainmail on your chest.
Maybe, if you behave respectfully, so does she. The army is for her protection after all.
"My name is Marius. And-"
"What's your first name, centurion?"
A cute smile suddenly plays around her lips. Maybe this will get her out of here faster.
"Gaius."
"I see, Gaius. I'm sure you have more important things to do than stop me from traveling further? My husband must be waiting for me."
If she didn't know better, Sana could swear that she caught a glint of hate in your eyes.
"This is protocol. We have to check on everyone, who approaches the camp."
"I'm a noble woman. Can't you make an exception for me?'
You don't fall for her sweet smile. You are on duty. Not even Venus herself could distract you. Well, maybe a little bit.
"Your choice. Here, or at the gate in front of even more legionaries. Like everyone else."
That last part makes her glare at you. You won this round.
Not waiting for a response, you gesture for your men to search the woman's belongings. Your Imperial legate has more than enough enemies in Rome to be cautious of. And you don't want him to end up dead inside his own camp. Even if she is allegedly Aelius' wife.
Quintus nods in your direction after going through her belongings, signaling that everything is alright.
"We will accompany you on your way to the camp. We are on our way back, anyway."
You turn around without looking at Sana again. A signal for your men to get into formation.
It feels like she stares at your back for a second longer, before you hear the door close behind you. You don't like the Roman nobility. At all. There is only one man you are willing to follow.
After two more hours of marching, your century and the noblewoman's entourage finally reach the camp's gate.
"The village, where the senior officers are staying, is right behind the camp. You can't miss it."
The older woman, who screamed at Titus earlier, still looks at you as if she is holding a grudge.
"I hope you enjoy your stay in these wonderful lands, lady."
You raise your voice a little, making sure that Sana can hear you. It drips with sarcasm and you can hear Quintus chuckle behind you.
"Vale."
With a dismissive wave of your hand, you walk past the old servant. Her shock at your rudeness visible on her face.
Already making your way past the guards, you can't hear Sana's scoff.
Who are you to talk to her like that? If she is gonna tell her husband about this, you are going to be in trouble for sure.
Sana will never be able to get used to this. She was able to decide that, immediately after she stepped out of her carriage. It took her only a couple of steps to enter the small house her husband is living in right now. But that was enough for her already.
Nothing here looks like Rome. Even the legionaries look out of place. And their shouts and the sounds of shields and stuff isn't what she hears when she is home. Sana is already missing the comfortable house with the atrium. She likes to bathe in the sun throughout the day, while sipping on a really good wine.
"You're late."
Lucius doesn't even look up from his small table as he hears his wife coming in.
"That's how you great me after a year?"
"You know how I value punctuality."
"Out of my hands. Some centurion insisted on searching my luggage. He was really rude."
Now Lucius is looking at her. Sana knows that he can't stand someone disrespecting him. And when she gets disrespected, it goes deeper. He is affected as well.
"Who?"
She can see his eyes becoming a little darker. He bites his lip, maybe trying to prevent himself from shouting.
"His name is Garius Marius. I think?"
"That son of a whore. How does a slave dare to stop you?"
Now, Sana feels shame run down her spine. If she knew that he was born a slave, she would've hit him for talking to her like that. No matter his rank, he is and will always be beneath her. Once a slave, always a slave.
"I swear to Jupiter. One day in battle, I will..."
Lucius takes a deep breath, before focusing back on his wife.
"We are eating dinner with the Imperial legate, the leader of these legions tomorrow, and the senior generals. I expect you to impress them."
"I'd be happy to, love."
Sana almost spits out that last word, but Lucius doesn't seem to notice. He sits back down, opening an envelope. She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed. He won't let this incident pass without consequences.
Sana eventually leaves the house to explore the small town and it's market. Despite being married to Lucius, she can't stay around him for too long. She is only his wife, because of his money and connections. As soon as she can find someone better...
Sana feels a little dizzy as she steps out of the big house. Lucius told her to be on her best behavior. But that idiot was behaving the worst throughout the dinner.
She hated how calm and reserved the other centurion was, the man who stopped her. He was the lowest ranking soldier and yet, everyone listened to his advice and thoughts about future and past battles. And how is he on a first name basis with the imperial legate? And why is Lucius too incapable to enjoy the same treatment? How can he do worse than a slave?
Sana holds onto the wall, standing right next to the entrance. Suddenly, two men walk out the door. They don't see her because it's dark. She tries to find out who they are. The first one is a little taller, while the second has broader shoulders and looks more muscular.
"We can't do this forever, Gaius. We need a plan to wipe him out. I expect you to help me with that."
"Of course, Gaius."
Sana almost groans in annoyance. Of course it's that Gaius Marius. And the other one is the Imperial legate. Gaius Julius Caesar.
"Rome is an empire. We will defeat Vercingetorix sooner rather than later. His supporters will crumble soon."
"You did a good job today, centurion. You've proven once again, why you rightfully carry the name I gave you. Gaius Marius Antonius."
Sana assumes they are talking about some barbarian leader. But Caesar gave him that cognomen? She can't help but wonder what he must've done to be called "priceless".
"You know the political situation in Rome. The more time I waste conquering Gaul, the more powerful my enemies become."
"I swear to Mars. I will cut down anyone who tries to oppose you, Gaius."
She sees Caesar put a hand on the centurion's shoulder.
"It's only a matter of time, until you will be one of the Tribuni angusticlavii, leading the tenth legion into battle. And I will make sure, you will eventually become a rich senator."
Sana has heard enough. It's so disgusting to her. A slave becoming a senator. She is working so hard to become the most powerful woman in Rome. And with that in the whole empire. How can that lowlife become something better than she herself? Sana either needs to push Lucius further up the ranks, or she needs to find someone, who can match Marius' new found status.
Sana groans in relief, when she can finally leave the small village. It's not like someone forbid her to leave, but there just wasn't something to do in and outside the village. What was she gonna do in a forest? A very dangerous one at that?
But now, she heard of a big market place around two hours away. Sana is still looking to buy some oils and pottery. She could do that in Rome of course, but she is hoping to find them cheaper in their land of origin.
Looking out of her carriage, Sana leaves behind the village and the big camp right next to it. The constant noise made her head spin. Not that Rome isn't loud, but this is something else.
After about an hour, Sana hears a troop of men marching in front of her. She became familiar with that sound after a few days. She doesn't look outside, despite being curious. Why would a century be here? The battles would take place in the opposite direction. Right?
Sana hears how the carriage passes the back of the century. The heavy steps of the legionaries kick up some dust. Her old servant looks outside, curious herself.
"It's him again."
The older woman grimaces, before letting the curtain drop back into place.
"Who?"
"The man who stopped us a couple of days ago."
Sana's attention is now on the men outside. She remembers the conversation you had with Caesar.
"Really?"
She pretends to be cold, not wanting to get caught. After having seen you around a couple of times, the young noble woman is unsure on how to feel about you.
Yes, you are a former slave. A peasant. But you are also a great centurion. A trusted man to Julius Caesar.
Despite being not the highest ranking officer, Sana did notice how the other men look at you. She catches an occasional whisper of your brave actions in battle. She sees the men greet you with almost too much respect. Even the other centurions seem to want to be on your good side.
Maybe that's what Sana has to do too. In order to further climb up the ladder. It is risky. And it's still a long time in the future. But if Caesar can really make his ambitions reality, you will be one of the first people who benefit from it. And if Sana plays her cards well, she can benefit too.
For a moment, she wonders what a man like you would need. Something she could have to bargain with. Money? You probably earn quite a lot already. Especially compared to your earlier environment. Land? You will get that too, if you stay long enough in the army. A wife? You are a soldier. You are not allowed to be married.
As Sana is still pondering on what to do to convince you to help her gain more power, she gets closer towards the front of the century.
And it's not like she doesn't have influence. She could maybe even get you a promotion into the first cohort. Of course without her husband finding out.
Sana draws back the curtain a little with only one finger. Just a few meters ahead, she can see you walking.
Your helmet is decorated by a big crest of red horse hair. The back of the helmet and the rest of your armor shimmer in the light of the sun. She remembers your first encounter. Your armor was full with blood, indicating that you were more than able to fight a battle.
You turn around as you hear horses behind you. It wouldn't have been a surprise. One of the auxilia officers could be taking his men out to train.
Surprised at the sight of the carriage, you catch a glimpse of the passenger. Her eyes meet yours, a big golden ring decorates the finger that holds back the curtain. You could swear you see a small hint of a smile play around her lips.
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"Salve."
You great her by hitting your armored chest with your fist. Not because you like her, but out of politeness.
"Salve, centurion."
Her passive aggressive mentioning of your rank indicates that she is still not over that incident a couple of days ago.
"Are you visiting the market?"
"I am. I suppose you are not here to buy pottery?"
A mocking smile replaces the earlier one.
"It may sound unbelievable, but I'm not."
A cute chuckle escapes her mouth.
"Well, I hope you enjoy this beautiful day."
Is she still mocking you, because you are on duty? You are not sure, but you can see her lazily wave goodbye as the carriage drives past you.
"Don't get too close to her. She is only gonna be trouble."
You look at Quintus.
"I'm merely being polite. I don't need trouble with angry nobles. At least not now."
"By Jupiter. One might think you've become a responsible, grown man now."
"Fuck off."
You raise your hand, but Quintus ducks away, avoiding a potential slap.
Only listening with one ear to the conversation next to you, you scan the market for the young noble woman. Despite her attitude and the fact that she is married, you can't help but glance at her occasionally. Plus, the market isn't as safe as it might seem. Cunning merchants, thiefs and rebels might roam the place, ready to strike at any moment. And being a beautiful Roman woman makes her one of the most desirable targets right now.
"Listen, Roman! I barely sell anything! How do you expect me to pay your unreasonable taxes?!"
"Shut it."
You turn back to the stall holder. Titus' and his conversation got heated.
"We are not hear to argue. We are here to collect taxes."
The man grits his teeth.
"I'm telling you! I don't have anything to give away!"
The other people around you look at the scene, before walking past. Only you and a couple of legionaries are here. The rest of your century is patrolling another village nearby and the rest of the market, making sure you are not getting ambushed.
"Don't scream at me, old man. Pay up."
"I don't have a fucking coin!"
You know he is lying. You saw someone buy his fabric from a far as you entered the marketplace. And, judging by the money bag he held earlier, it wasn't cheap at all.
"We can do this the easy way, or the heard way."
You take a step forward, towering above him.
"But the hard way won't end well for you."
"I already told you, I-"
You let your head fall back in annoyance. Collecting taxes is a necessity. Not something to be proud of. It's not as honorable as fighting in battle.
"Do you really want to go this far?"
You look down at him again, your hand now resting on the pommel of your gladius.
He caught the movement of your hand, worry creeping onto his features.
"What is it gonna be? Your life? Or coin?"
The old man is not stupid. And a couple of moments later, you walk away from his stall. The tinkle behind you indicates, that Titus is adding the silver denarii into the bag with the rest of the already collected money.
"Are you trying to rob me, old man? You are a con artist!"
Women screaming at a merchant are as common as clouds under the sky, so you don't pay much attention to it as you hear someone scream.
"How can you demand so much for this lousy work?"
You keep walking, although you kinda feel, like you heard this voice before. It sounds oddly familiar.
"By Bellona! I'm going to have you beaten for your rudeness!"
And there it is. With an annoyed groan, you immediately recognize, who is disturbing the rather peaceful market.
If she was a common local woman, you would've kept walking. The Galli could solve their own disputes.
But Sana is, as unfortunate as it is, not a local. She is a Roman woman. A member of the elite even.
You take a deep breath, before walking towards her screams. You can already guess whom she is screaming at.
"Keep going."
You tell Titus over your shoulder, as you approach her from behind. Her servant must have stayed with the carriage, because Sana is standing in front of the stall of the potter all alone.
Before the young woman can scream another word, you grab her arm.
"What-"
You spin her around and walk away, pulling her with you.
"What do you think you are doing?!"
"Silence."
You didn't say it in a loud voice, but your tone makes her go silent.
After a couple of meters, you stop, turning around to look at her.
"You're welcome."
"Excuse you?"
Her hands now rest on her hips. You can't help but catch how slender her waist seems to be.
"I just saved you from embarrassing yourself even further. You owe me."
You turn away, ready to reunite with Titus and your men.
"What the-"
It's now Sana's turn to grab your arm, stopping you from leaving.
"I don't owe you shit."
"Really?"
You turn to look at her again.
"Your temper is as bad as your observation skills. Minerva would strike you down for your utter incompetence."
You said the words, before you thought about them. You are aggravated. Because of the merchant earlier, because of her causing a scene, because of Lucius (as always) and because of her being his wife. Alright, maybe that last one was a little jealousy.
"How dare you? You are some rude-"
You stop her from saying another word by grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around.
"Look. Look and tell me what you see."
"What are you talking about?"
You see her frowning. An act that makes her beautiful face a little less flawless.
"Tell me what's going on."
You realize you are using the same tone as with the men during training. Harsh, straight forward, a little condescending. But not rude. Just factual.
"The merchant is still selling his stupidly expensive pottery."
You don't answer, waiting for more.
Sana, visibly annoyed, struggles against your grip for a moment, before giving in. You are a seasoned legionnaire. There is no way she is gonna get out of your hold on her.
"There are a couple of women and men who browse his items."
"Keep going."
"Someone is buying a bowl and an amphora."
"What is the woman on the right doing?"
"She is paying for her stuff. What-"
"Can you see how much she is paying?"
"Way too much for a stupid-"
"Do you see any of the locals complaining?"
Sana hesitantly shakes her head.
"Do you know the reason?"
"Because they are stupid. In Rome it's cheap-"
"We aren't in Rome, woman. This is Gaul."
You stand behind her, both of you silent for a couple of moments. You give her time to think about the possible reason. Although she is probably just complaining about you to the gods in silence.
"They all pay the price he demands, because he and his work are respected here."
"But they look-"
"Yeah. Some of his pieces aren't pretty."
You admit that.
"But he is an old man. His hands aren't as good as they used to be. He is obviously regarded with a decent amount of respect."
You gesture for Sana to look around the market.
"Most of the people here bargain over every single item. Food, cloth, tools and even pottery."
You turn her back towards the old man's stall.
"But not there. They respect him too much to try to get a better price. His work might not be the very best anymore, but his skill is known by everyone here."
Sana groans in annoyance and anger as she sees you coming out of the biggest tent of the camp. A week has gone by, since you treated her like a child at the market. Her blood still boils, whenever she sees you from a far.
She decided against telling her husband, not wanting to cause unnecessary friction. And if you have the favor of Caesar, it might be a bad idea to egg on her husband.
And Sana is still debating on your ability to help her seize more power. She is ready to do anything to get to the top. Even if it means working together with someone as low born as you.
Sana stops in her tracks as she sees her husband walk towards you.
"Aelius."
You don't greet him like any other lower ranking centurion would. The young woman can feel the tension between the two men, despite standing barely in earshot.
"Marius."
His face shows a disapproving twitch.
"It seems like we are catching up to Vercingetorix. I hope you don't make any mistakes in battle. I would hate to lose a lower ranking officer."
You click your tongue, taking a step forward.
With the two of you standing right in front of each other, Sana realizes that you are bigger than her husband. Not just in statue, but also in the way you carry yourself. With slightly less arrogance and more discipline.
"Don't worry about me, Aelius. As you know, I always make sure my men are taken care off."
Sana feels a shiver run down her spine. She heard more than enough stories about the battles of the tenth legion since she joined her husband. The amount of times that you were mentioned in one of them was noticeably high.
The young woman heard of a battle two summers ago. You weren't a centurion at the time. Merely a soldier of the second cohort. But in battle, your centurion chose to let his men die, while he stayed behind, watching his century getting slaughtered. After half of the eighty men were dead, you walked straight towards the cowardly centurion. A nobleman, which the storyteller didn't fail to mention with a hint of disgust. Your gladius seperated his head from his shoulders in one swift motion and you took command of the second century until the end of the battle. Caesar honored your bravery and agreed with your actions. Instead of getting executed, you got promoted.
"Are you implying I'm not leading my men well?"
Sana hears you chuckle.
"News travel fast among the younger men, Aelius."
"Maybe you should discipline your soldiers like I do. Your century is a disgrace to the tenth legion."
"Nugas garris. You are pathetic."
You walk off, leaving him behind.
Sana almost expects her husband to draw his gladius. How can you call him a disgrace? And idiot? He is higher ranking than you and he is a member of the elite.
But Aelius just watches you leave, before entering the tent you just came out of.
That short interaction reminds Sana of the power you actually hold. You might not be the highest officer, but almost the whole legion treats you as such. If it wasn't for your low birth, you might have been able to be the centurion of the first century of the first cohort.
Sana's decision is slowly forming in her mind. A plan to gain more power than she has right now. Siding with you might be risky. But the rewards could be great.
Sana glances at you from across the room as you stare at Caesar, who is currently talking. She is still not quite sure what she can offer you to make you join her side. But when the leader of the legion mentions the nobility in his speech, she sees your expression change for just a second. It is obvious that you hate all the wealthy and arrogant men and women. Maybe Sana can offer you something to get back at them. Or at least get back at Aelius.
"And that's why the tenth legion outshines any other. Your bravery and honor are praised throughout the whole empire. Rome is grateful for what you have done. And the gods smile down at the men, who give their lifes to the republic."
Caesar ends his speech. And with that, the long meal is finally over. It is night time already. Only the moon and the stars still shine.
You walk out of the large tent, ready to sleep. It has been a long day and there is no doubt that you will be fighting soon. Caesar's promise to promote you to such a high position still rings in your ears. You can't believe you've come this far.
"Gaius."
Her sweet voice makes you stop in front of your tent. She doesn't sound as angry as she usually does.
"Yes?"
You turn around, standing face to face with Sana.
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"I'm here to ask you for something."
You look at her, waiting for an explanation.
"I heard that you are the bravest and most powerful man in this legion. At least unofficially."
You raise an eyebrow.
"Where is all of this honey suddenly coming from?"
Sana gives you a melodic chuckle. Only now do you realize how close she is standing. Her oils make you breath in the flowery air that surrounds her.
"I want to strike a deal with you."
"What would you want from such a low ranking officer like me?"
Your sarcasm makes it hard for Sana to not lash out. Just because she needs you, doesn't mean that she likes you.
"As far as I've heard, you won't be a low ranking officer for long."
"Is that so?"
You cross your arms in front of your chest.
"Well, it's actually quite simple. You have something I want. And I have something you want."
"I highly doubt that."
You watch Sana turn her head left and right, making sure that no one is around.
"There is a always something a man wants from a woman."
You are surprised at what she is suggesting.
"Judging by the look on your face, I can comfortably say that I'm right."
You shake your head, which seems harder than usual.
"Have you never thought about having your way with me? A noble woman?"
She takes another step closer. Now, Sana's sandals are touching yours.
"A married one at that? I bet you would love to destroy my husband. This could be your first step to success."
You narrow your eyes, still unsure of what to do. You've never been in this kind of situation. Is she making fun of you? Did Aelius put her up to this, setting a trap for you? Or is she genuine?
"What would you get in return?"
"Your power. Your influence. I can't live, knowing that another person might have more power than I do. I need to be at the top of the republic."
"And you think, I can get you there?"
Sana nods.
"With my support? Definitely."
She looks at you, waiting for a response.
You are still torn. She has a nice body, yes. But you're not fond of her attitude. She is a noble woman. And she is married. Getting caught would have serious consequences. For the both of you.
But the chance to use her? A noble woman? Fucking her, while her husband is only sleeping a couple of tents away? More than just tempting.
You look around the camp yourself. No one in sight.
"Get in."
A victorious smile forms on her lips. As she walks past you, she lets her finger glide over your armoured chest.
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You follow her immediately after.
"Now that we have come to an agreement, I-"
You push Sana forward, bending her over the wooden table.
"What-"
You don't give her time to speak. If you're going to do this, you're going to do this quickly.
Hiking up her red stola, you reach underneath her tunic. The smoothness of her legs makes you hard as you reach between them.
"It seems like you are enjoying this more than I expected."
Your fingers graze her lower lips. She is not just a little wet.
"Hey, I didn't give you permission to-"
You shut Sana up by covering her mouth with your other hand.
"I don't need you permission. I'm going to ruin you anyway."
Her gasp is muffled by your hand as you push your first finger inside.
You haven't slept with a lot of women, the army being mainly responsible for that. Nonetheless, you do know how to pleasure a woman.
Sana's moan escapes between your fingers as your digits slide along her wet walls. Her pussy is already gripping them tightly.
If it weren't for your hand, her head would've sunk onto the table already. But you are holding her in place, which ultimately makes her arch her back.
She tries to say something, but your grip on her mouth makes it impossible for her to speak properly.
You are surprised at how wet Sana is.
"Was your desire for power just an excuse? Do you just want me to fuck you?"
She tries to shake her head. You don't let her.
"Do you get off, knowing that a lower born man is fucking you?"
Sana is unable to respond, when you let go off her face. Her whole upper body is now lying on top of the table. You drop your belt and hike her clothes up a little further.
"Don't get confused. I still don't like you."
Sana's growl doesn't sound very convincing with your fingers inside of her.
"Might be true. But you aren't married to Aelius because of his personality anyways."
Pulling your fingers out of her core makes Sana moan loudly. She blushes in shame. Doubt starting to rise inside of her. Is she really only doing this to team up with you?
"You only seem to care for power."
"So? Only a coward wouldn't want power."
You shut her up by letting your tip graze against her lips. Sana hisses through her teeth, unwilling to moan again.
"I'm just curious about how far you would be willing to go. How dedicated you are to this cause."
"Don't worry. I'm ready to do anything."
"Anything?"
You raise an eyebrow, which Sana can't see.
"Anything."
"That's reassuring."
Your nonchalant tone makes Sana shiver.
Finally, you push inside of her.
"Fuck, woman."
You can't help but marvel at how tight she actually is.
"Fuck me already."
It's a mixture of plea and demand.
With one hand you grab her hair, pushing her cheek against the wooden surface. Your other hand holds her waist.
Another moan escapes Sana's lips as you thrust forward. Before she can react, you pull back and push inside of her again.
After just a couple of seconds, you start to fuck her hard. The table rocks back and forth with every thrust. Her moans escape her lips, whenever you bottom out inside of her.
"Harder!"
Sana holds onto the edge of the table, her knuckles slowly starting to turn white.
Because you keep pushing her upwards with your thrusts, the young woman's feet eventually dangle in the air.
You are now able to fuck her even deeper. Her moans become louder when she feels your cock invading her pussy even further.
At this point, Sana is merely a hole for you to fuck. She doesn't move. Only your thrusts rock her body back and forth. The thin material of her clothes makes Sana's nipples rub against the wooden surface. They've become hard due to her arousal and are now adding to the pleasure she is already feeling.
"So good!"
She moans yet again. You suddenly realize, that this isn't really a save place to be this loud.
"Shut up."
You growl into her ear, trying to quiet her.
But Sana can't help it. She has already lost control over her body. Your cock is parting her walls again and again, making her clench around it tightly.
She is even unable to produce a disappointed whine, when you stop fucking her. You leaver her snug pussy, before getting her off your table.
Turning her around, you push Sana against the wooden post, which is holding up the roof of your tent. Reaching for your belt, you hold her arms up, before tying them together.
Sana is now unable to leave. You pick up her light frame, making her impale herself on your cock.
"By Bellona! Fuck!"
"I told you to stay quiet."
Your faces are barely an inch apart.
Because you push her body against the post, you are able to lift her up with only your left hand. Your right one moves upwards to wrap its fingers around her throat.
"One more word..."
You let the threat of unknown punishment linger in the air for a moment.
But you can't hold yourself back for long. Sana's pussy drips her juices onto your cock, coaxing you into resuming your pounding.
A whimper escapes her mouth, when you start to fuck her again. You can tell she is at least trying to stay quiet this time. While you make her bounce on your cock, you thrust upwards. It makes her eyes roll back, whenever she feels your cock pushing against her guts.
"Venus!"
A louder sigh escapes her mouth yet again. You close your fingers around her throat a little further.
"Behave."
The conflict in Sana's eyes amuses you.
She should be the one in charge. She is the noble one of the two of you after all. But here she is, bound to your post, your hand around her throat as you fuck her as hard as you can.
Sana tries to fight the belt, wanting to tell you that you have to choke her harder. She can't keep quiet when you fuck her like this.
Another moan escapes her lips and you tighten your grip yet again.
"I warned you."
You hiss into her face.
Sana's wide eyes look beautiful. The way she stares at you, begging you to fuck her harder, while she tries her best not to make any noise.
But she fails miserably. A loud sigh echoes through the tent.
Without a word, you reach upwards. The sound of metal on metal cuts through the night as you pull your pugio out of its sheath. You let Sana get a good look at it. Then, you slowly part her lips with its blade.
"If you don't want to hurt your pretty face..."
You don't continue your sentence once more. But Sana is well aware of the risks.
With your dagger in her mouth, Sana has to pull back her lips, while simultaneously biting onto the blade, to make sure it doesn't fall or hurt her.
You see her closing her eyes as you keep fucking her. She is now really quiet, focused on keeping your pugio in place.
"Finally. Your voice so annoying."
Sana blushes in shame, able to see your honesty in your eyes.
"At least you have a nice body. I could fuck you every day."
The young woman almost lets out another moan. She really has to hold herself back. This was the first time someone reduced her to nothing but a wet hole to fuck. She didn't expect it to feel this good.
You suddenly hear footsteps outside. You stop moving, almost making Sana whine in disappointment, but then she hears it too. The two of you hold your breath. Neither of you wanting to get caught.
As the footsteps disappear into the night, you resume your fucking.
You make Sana bounce up and down on your cock. She glides along its full length. Whenever you impale her on it, Sana's eyes shoot wide open. She would scream if it wasn't for the dagger between her teeth.
"I'm gonna cum."
You hiss into her face, unable to hold back longer. Her tight pussy has been working on draining your cock this whole time. It feels perfect, almost too good to pull out. But cuming inside is obviously not an option.
You put Sana back onto her own two feet, taking the knife out of her mouth. Undoing your belt, you free her arms. Sana drops to her knees, opening her mouth. You catch a couple drops of blood on the corners of her mouth, before she wraps her lips around your cock.
Your pugio falls out of your hand and you take a fistful of her beautiful hair. Her eyes look up at you, telling you to finish inside her mouth. Her tongue glides over every inch of your cock it can find, while her lips are tightly sealed around it.
"Sana."
You manage to groan her name, before you unload inside her mouth. You feel dizzy, having to close your eyes for a moment.
When you open them again, you see Sana gulping down your cum.
"How often do we need to do this, so that we have a deal?"
"I think you know the answer."
It's so dark that Sana's face is barely lit by the torch outside. You could swear a small smile plays around her lips though.
868 notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 7 months
Text
enduring love
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- nanami kento x reader
love is kind. love is patient. Nanami Kento taught you all that—love and the absolute durability it brings.
genre/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—in the form of soft sex, pregnancy
notes: based on a whole package request an anon sent me a while ago. there isn't much i can say without spoiling... just that i love soft loving nanami :( check out a very recommended track for this piece!
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Nanami Kento was not your first love, but he was the one who taught you about love that endures, even against the worst of odds.
Haibara Yu was your boyfriend when he died, giving his life in exchange of yours and Nanami’s. And his death destroyed you, leaving you devastated, as you not only lost your childhood best friend but also a significant part of yourself.
And he made Nanami promise something to him—taking care of you. And of course, Nanami would. Even if Haibara didn’t ask for it, he would. Because when it came to you, he was willing to do anything.
He couldn’t say it back then, that he was already and utterly in love with you.
You were so grateful for his sheer presence. With Nanami by your side, you felt a sense of security and comfort, which helped to fill the void left by Haibara to some extent.
“Thank you for checking up on me. I’m fine,” you had said to him with a soft smile. You remembered it clearly—it was Haibara’s second death anniversary. You still shed tears before his picture at the columbarium hall, but you meant it when you said you were fine.
“That’s... good then.” Nanami didn’t look like he was convinced, but he nodded regardless.
“You can stop doing it now, you know,” you mumbled with a sigh. It wasn’t fair to him, you realized it from the get-go, but unconsciously, you too needed him to cope with your dearest’s death. “It’s never your responsibility in the first place. I’m… thankful that you’re always there for me.”
At that time, Nanami was already in love with you, but he was also a coward. A coward who had decided to leave the jujutsu world behind, and so he took your words and left with a broken heart. But unbeknownst to him, you would never forget how he looked—downcast eyes, clenched fist, as if you had told him to begone altogether.
In the years that he spent away from curses and the sorrow that followed, he did try to forget about you, but in the end, he just couldn’t. You were like sunshine that brightened his younger, happier days. To him, your existence helped him to get past Haibara’s death too. And his love for you was already engraved in him by default, even if he couldn’t act on it.
Nanami’s departure hurt you more deeply than you thought. You were incredibly lonely. Gojo and Shoko were there, but it hardly filled the void left by his absence. They say life goes on, and so you continued to live the life Haibara had saved for you, with the hope that someday, Nanami would return.
Life is funny because no one can predict how it turns out. Nanami found it ironic, that he left only to come back.
But when he saw you again after four years, still the same but even more beautiful than ever, with tears in your eyes as you welcomed him back, he thought it was all worth it.
“I’m… glad,” you muttered amidst the flowing tears, trying to wipe it away in embarrassment. “Sorry, ugh… I didn’t mean to cry. It’s just that it’s been so long…”
And Nanami only laughed at that. A genuine chuckle. Your heart soared at the sight.
He was different. He no longer sported that geeky haircut. Now he was suave, neat and of course—handsome. You never realized how attractive he was until now.
“I missed you too, Y/N,” he said with a warm smile. To him, the fact that you cried at his expense was enough to make him happy. It signified that you regarded him as an important presence in your life, and that was enough for him.
“Are you doing this temporarily?” you asked warily afterwards.
He responded with a thoughtful hum. "I believe... no, I've concluded that this is way better than my previous banking job. At least here, I can fully utilize my abilities."
Your eyes seemed to glimmer with something at his response.
“Then, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Can you…” Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you asked, but you brushed it aside. “Can you promise me that you… won’t leave again?”
It was as if everything he had known was nullified with that question. Nanami had always assumed he might hold significance in your life, but he thought that to you, he was dispensable.
"Yeah, I won't," he said resolutely. "I won't leave again, Y/N."
On that day, he came to the realization that it was perfectly fine for him to express these feelings for you now.
To outsiders' point of view, it was bound to happen anyway. Gojo had always known that Nanami held this not-so-hidden affection for you and wholeheartedly supported him when he witnessed the effort he put into pursuing those feelings. It was comical really, that you heard it first not from Nanami himself but rather from him.
You remembered that day too—he was so furious at Gojo that he kicked him out. He looked so embarrassed. Granted, this was not at all how he had envisioned confessing to you.
"I won't hide it any further. I... have been harboring these feelings for you." He couldn't even look at you in the eyes. The two of you were no longer those teenagers in Jujutsu High, but oddly it was hard to say it out loud. "You're free to reject me, of course—"
"Nanami Kento." It bugged you, how formal he was acting around you, and no, you were done with this too. You returned his feelings, had been for a while now. "We should just get together."
And just like that, you were finally in a relationship. It was long road to reach this point, and yet it was only the beginning.
Nanami was supportive, affectionate, and ready to shield you from any harm. You loved him with all your heart. Whenever you two visited Haibara's memorial, he would grip your hand tighter and reassure you of his presence, and if there was one thing you were certain of regarding Haibara, it was that he would have complete trust in Nanami to care for you.
Birthdays, anniversaries, and other milestones, you two celebrated it together. It was almost picture perfect—you were so happy together, as if you were made for each other.
"Kento," you gasped when you opened the gift box he had gotten for your birthday, discovering a pristine watch inside. "This..."
"Do you like it?" he asked softly, smiling, brushing your hair aside. His eyes crinkled with delight when he saw your elated expression.
"I love it!" you exclaimed heartily. And normally you wouldn't be this impulsive, but since it was your birthday, surely you could afford a whim or two.
You kissed him on the cheek, making a playful smooching sound that left him pleasantly reeling and flustered.
You dated him for two years. In those two starling years, Nanami proved to be an exceptional boyfriend. You were confident that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, and he felt the same way about you.
Regardless, when he dropped down on one knee with a ring box in his hand, you still couldn't help but tear up.
"Will you marry me?" He knew the answer already, but he was determined to make it the most memorable day of your life, with him promising his undying love for you.
Through tears, happiness and everything else, you laughed. A free laugh that conveyed your love for him. "Yes!"
The two of you were married for three years, and Nanami was the best husband you could ask for, and being his wife was the honor you'd never turn down no matter how many times you were asked. If there was one thing you'd rather see less from him though, perhaps it was his tendency to rush headfirst into danger.
Once, he went back home with bloodied side and you immediately rushed and fussed over him with concern.
"What sort of cursed spirit did you face?" your hands were shaking as you dabbed alcohol to his wound. He wasn't usually injured, so this came as a shock.
Nanami winced, but he still smiled, trying to convince you that he was fine.
He didn't want to tell you about it, because frankly, even he didn't know that much. He only knew that his attacks weren't effective against that sadistic cursed spirit with stitches all over his body.
"It was an accident, love," Nanami brushed it aside. "I just made a mistake is all."
"Still!" you lips quivered at the possible worst scenario. "Couldn't you just run away?"
"It was not that easy... I had Gojo's student with me too, I couldn't just leave him to face a special grade alone now, could I?"
Your expression turned horrified, and he regretted his slip. "Special grade...?"
You were like a flower, and Nanami cherished you greatly. He hated seeing you in distress, especially if it was caused by him.
You had to understand eventually, because you were a jujutsu sorcerer too. In this line of work, nothing is guaranteed. So you looked down and let out a sigh. "Can you promise me something, Kento?"
"Of course. Anything for you, love."
"If it ever gets too dangerous—if you sense that your life is in danger," you locked eyes with him, your gaze filled with determination and hope. "Please. I beg of you. Just run. Come back to me."
And he nodded, pulling you to his bare chest, as you sniffled against him. "Yes, dear. I will. I promise. Don't cry now, okay?"
Witnessing your tears never sat right with him, and he was willing to do whatever it took to erase that sadness.
The way he caressed you so fondly and gently was how he proved the extent of his love for you. A love that had been brewing for twelve years, ever since he was a first year in this unforgiving jujutsu world, only able to keep his crush hidden away at the furthermost corner of his heart as he saw you with someone else, until now, much later, as your husband who was yours as much as you were his.
Your body reacted with each of his tender touch. Your cheeks lighted up with the most adorable color of red, and lust was evident in your eyes. As Nanami towered over you, shushing you with soft words and asked you where you wanted to be touched, he was trying his hardest to be patient.
"Tell me, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear. "Tell me how I can make you feel better."
You were too shy to tell him, so you guided his hand to where you wanted to be touched the most, and then before you knew it, you were letting out several moans, unable to hold them in.
Nanami was always well in preparing you. He had to at least make you cum once or twice before actually inserting himself in you. Because your needs and comfort always came before his.
His thrusts were slow but deep, with your legs wrapping around his waist. He kissed every inch of your body that he could reach, worshipping you, reveling in your blushed face.
And when he came inside you, filling you full and warm with his seed, you felt nothing but sheer relief and bliss. The aftercare was wonderful too, as Nanami made sure that you were comfortable—cleaning you up and tucking you in, kissing your tears away.
Shortly after, you became pregnant. It wasn't unexpected, with all your intimate activities. It was a whole new experience entirely, and the two of you were looking forward to it, as the baby inside you grew day by day. You wanted a son, whereas he wanted a daughter who looked just like you.
You wanted this life with him. You wanted to grow old together with him, along with your baby too. And that was why, when Nanami was about to leave for Shibuya, you were sick with worry, a hand on your noticeable bump.
"Do you really have to go?" You wanted to cry, yell, and drag those in headquarters to see you—a wife carrying a child. How could they separate a vulnerable wife from her husband?
Nanami pulled you into his arms, consoling you. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. I'll be back once all of this is over."
"They named Gojo already. And for a curtain of that density to be pulled down—" your voice hitched painfully. "Kento, it must be a well-thought plan. I'm afraid for you, please."
To be honest, he didn't know how it would play out. This was a large-scale attack and every jujutsu sorcerer in the country was summoned in response. As much as he feared for himself, he had to, because it was his responsibility, and doing this would keep you safe.
With the tearful farewell and final touch on your belly to feel his baby kick him, Nanami left you to march towards the battlefield.
Life is funny because you never know how it turns out. Nanami once again came to see just how unforgiving this jujutsu world was when Gojo was sealed and half of his body was burnt beyond repair.
He wouldn't be able to make it back home now.
His chest constricted at how he wouldn't be able to go back to your arms again, or see you give birth to his child. Even though he had planned everything—in his dream, he would take you to Kuantan, away from jujutsu and live the rest of your lives there in peace.
This world was cruel to him, but all he could hope now was that it would spare you. He was sorry to leave you again. He was sorry to break his promise. He was so sorry that you would go through the anguish of losing someone precious again, because this time, it was even greater than when you lost Haibara.
He wasn't ready to leave you, but when he saw Itadori Yuji sprinting towards him, suddenly he was certain. Because when he saw his face, all he could see was the fact that he could trust him with everything.
Perhaps it was what Haibara felt when he trusted you to him.
"You've got it from here." He smiled at Yuji, as the boy looked towards him in pure terror.
Was it a figment of his imagination? Because he could see Haibara in front of him now, with that energetic smile of his.
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A bloodcurdling scream escaped your lips when Yuji arrived in front of your doorsteps to inform you of Nanami's death. You were wailing and utterly inconsolable, especially when he told you that not even his remains were left.
You didn't know what to do. You just sat there, sobbing your heart out in Yuji's arms until you passed out. The next thing you knew was that you were in your bed, with the boy sleeping on your bedside table in a very awkward position.
You recalled the envelope from your husband that Yuji gave you last night. You scrambled for it, and found two plane tickets and a letter.
Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm not sure why I'm writing this either, but I can't leave you with nothing in case I didn't make it. First and foremost, I want you to know that I love you. So much more than you can imagine. Ever since our first year, and up until now and forevermore. I love you. With this, I'm letting you know that I've booked a flight for Kuantan for you and Itadori-kun as well, but I have a feeling that he wouldn't come with you. Even if he doesn't, I beg of you, please just go. I want you and our baby safe and away from all of this. Lastly, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for leaving you again. I'm sorry that I can't see and raise our child with you. You don't have to forgive me. Know that I'll be doing my best to come back to you, but if fate doesn't spare me, then please know that with all of heart, I love you and I won't leave you if I can afford it. You have changed the course of my life, and I'm grateful for it. Falling in love with you is my greatest joy, I want you to know that.
A bout of tears overcame you and woke Yuji up. You felt your insides churn with dread and your baby kick you with such fervor that it hurt. He was gone, really gone, leaving you in this perilous world alone.
And yet, to his last breath, all he could think of was you. It hurt so much, and yet you were glad, that you could light up his world the way he described it. His greatest joy.
Nanami Kento's love for you, the one he once endured and then held for years, reached you deeply. It is love unlike any other, more pure and heartfelt than you could ever imagine.
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did I cry while writing this? yes.
2K notes · View notes
darthannie · 8 months
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thesis statement
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Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader Summary: You accidentally bump into your Professor, Jim, at a sex shop. Word count: 3.3k Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is ~25, Jim is ~45), alcohol consumption (a few sips of wine), kissing, praise, soft dom! Jim kinda, fingering, p in v, Jim takes his time, a smidge of cockwarming, idk what else to put here! a/n: There will probably be a part two where they explore their little arrangement a bit more. Maybe it'll turn into something longer. I love Jim sm. I also want him to FUCK you know. We’ll get there, but I was feeling a lil soft. Also hmmm i wonder why Jim was at the sex shop in the first place.
It was around 5 pm on a Sunday and you were really in need of something new. Very in need. Your old toy just wasn’t cutting it anymore. To remedy this it was time for a trip to Deluxxx, your neighborhood sex shop. Your friend, Nadia, knew someone who worked there and you’d go there for all your wants and needs. You strolled in and gave a wave to the person behind the counter. 
“Hey, David! How’s the shop been treating ya?”
They looked around at the empty shop, “Hey! It’s slow but I can’t complain. What are you in for?” 
You sighed, “You remember that last toy I bought?“ 
”No way, does it suck?! It was so expensive.” 
“No, no it’s great! Gets the job done, waterproof, 10 settings-“ 
“So what’s the problem”, they asked.
You gestured in front of yourself with both hands, “It’s just… a little too small?"
They laughed and threw their head back. “Of course. Well lucky for you we got something new in recently that you might like. It’s in the back aisle, bottom shelf.” 
You thanked them and made your way to the back. You crouched down to find the one David was telling you about. It was definitely bigger than the one you had. And thicker. It didn’t have any extra frills but that wasn’t what you were looking for. You snapped a picture and sent it to Nadia with “new bf” as the caption. You let out a little laugh that was more like an exhale as you got up. Nadia has been nagging you about needing a boyfriend and you said you were just going to buy a new one. You were still looking at your phone as you turned to exit the aisle and bumped into someone. The apology on your lips died as you recognized the person in front of you as Jim, your professor and thesis advisor. 
His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes widened as he recognized you. You were the last person he’d expect to see there but it wasn’t an unwelcome sight. He enjoyed teaching you, not knowing whether it was your interest in the subject or the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He broke eye contact for a moment, scanned your body, took note of the item in your hand, and then met your eyes again. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings and before anyone could say anything he cleared his throat, said “Excuse me” and walked past you.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive and it was becoming clear why you did not have a boyfriend. You wanted him. This wasn’t a new revelation by any means. Nadia was in the same class as you, and she bugged you about it almost daily. You hadn’t expected him to find you in such a vulnerable position. You collected yourself and walked swiftly to the counter and paid. Jim was long gone. You said your goodbyes to David and you texted Nadia to let her know what happened.
She called you almost immediately and opened by saying, “So you know you gotta fuck him now. Like you have to. You don’t have an option. You MUST”. You laughed. There was absolutely no way Jim wanted you. You let her know as much and she disagreed. 
“There’s no way he doesn’t want you. Come on. All the silent stares in class. Asking you to stay after. Constant emailing about things that have nothing to do with class. I mean who just emails their student a TED talk because they thought of them? All signs point to him wanting you. AND what about that one day where you teased him about not having a ring on his finger, and he just said I’m working on it? You know there was this smile he gave you afterward that I don’t think you caught. You were too busy hiding the blush on your face”
“I know I know.” You relented, “I don’t know, it just seems so far-fetched!” 
You knew that was the logical response but something was telling you Nadia was right. He had to have known that his voice sent a shiver down your spine. That you wanted him to take you right there on the table after class. You had caught him staring during class. Maybe she had a point. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really did want you too. 
Later on in the day, you got into the shower. Scalding hot water hit your back. You couldn’t help but recount the events from earlier. He had lingered, looked at the item in your hand, and raised an eyebrow. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so familiar. 
Soft music played as you lathered a silky body wash along your body. Your mind started to wander, thinking about what it would be like if it were his hands instead of yours. You rinsed off the soap, running your hands over your arms and breasts all while imagining they were his. You turned off the water, dried off, and headed towards the bag you placed on your small table.
You unpackaged your new toy and went back to the bathroom to clean it. Getting back to bed, you lied down and opened up an incognito tab on your phone. You looked for some porn to watch. Once you found an adequate video, you relaxed and continued to watch. The man in the video touched the woman’s body in all the right places. He laid her down and kissed up her thighs before starting to eat her out. This was enough for you to start teasing yourself with the toy, feeling the weight of it on your clit. Suddenly the video was unnecessary. All you could think about was Jim.
You positioned it just right and started to insert it. You gasped as you felt how it stretched you out. This was what you needed. You paused the video, throwing your phone on the side to focus on the task at hand. You put the rest of it inside you and let yourself adjust to the size. You began to move the toy as you thought of him. You wondered if he felt this good. He had to feel better than this. You got off that night thinking about him and only him. When you finally came down from your high you grabbed some water, cleaned your toy, and got straight to bed. 
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You didn’t want what happened yesterday to impact your experience in class so you decided to just go on like nothing happened. 
You headed to the bathroom and began going through the movements of the morning. Before you knew it you were by the building where class was held. A bit further down the sidewalk was Jim walking from the opposite direction. The both of you got to the door at the same time. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave you a polite, awkward smile as he opened the door for you. You returned the smile and walked in. Side by side you walked to the classroom. This time you opened the door for him. You watched as he entered and mentally prepared yourself to take a class. It was just the two of you in the room. You sat at the round table with your laptop in front of you trying your best to seem busy.
He broke the silence, “Did you have a nice weekend?”
You summoned a response, “Yes, actually, I was able to spend some time with myself.”
He quipped back, “Oh, I’m sure you were.” 
Your eyes widened trying to process what he said. He let out a light chuckle as another student arrived. The class was full within the next five minutes. Nadia walked in and looked between you and him. She smirked at you. The air was buzzing for the next two hours. You could cut the tension between you two if you tried hard enough. You asked and answered questions like usual. Each time you spoke he paid extra attention to you. When class ended you began gathering your things slowly, hoping you were the last in the class. Nadia leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Just don’t do it by my seat.” You gave her a light slap on the arm and she laughed. Then, it was just you and him. He approached you and spoke softly. 
“Listen, I apologize if I overstepped a boundary with the joke I made earlier. I thought it would help ease the tension if, I don’t know-“ 
“It’s alright, Professor. We’re both mature adults who can bump into each other at a sex shop and move on with our lives.” You got up ready to leave but he spoke.
“Since when am I Professor?”, he asked. 
You looked at him confused. He clarified, “Since when do you call me Professor? You never call me Professor.”
You cleared your throat, “Well I just thought we should reestablish a professional boundary since the- you know. Keep the personal and the professional separate.”
He looked at you, pensive for a moment. He moved a bit closer to you. “Well, what if we don’t keep it separate?” 
Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “Are you serious?”
“Very.” He lowered his voice a bit and moved closer. He ran his hand down your arm.  His mouth was now near your ear. There was no chance someone else was going to hear him, but he whispered anyway. “I think you should come over tonight. If you want to.” 
“Yeah, I want to.” You mentally cursed yourself for caving in so quickly.  
“How’s seven?, he asked.
“Seven’s good.” Your head was spinning. This was happening.
“I’ll also need your number so I can send you the address.” He handed you his phone with a new contact page open. You entered it in, gave him a shy smile, and turned to leave.
He grabbed your wrist before you were able to move away from him. “By the way, leave your new purchase at home. You’re not going to need it.” 
Summoning some courage, you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t close the gap all the way. “Let’s save it for tonight.”, he said as he pulled away. He gathered his things without looking at you and left. 
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When you returned home you threw your stuff down and immediately called Nadia. “I KNEW IT!" she yelled. “I KNEW that’s why you hung back. God, it was so tense between you two.”
“You could tell?” You didn’t think it was that obvious until she chuckled and said that everyone could tell. The rest of the conversation consisted of Nadia giving you a pep talk and making her promise you’d tell her everything.  
As time passed you got more nervous. Around six you received a text from him telling you to wear something comfortable, along with his address. You sent a very quick response and, per his request, put on something comfortable. It would end up on the floor anyway. He didn’t live very far from you, which was lucky. You wondered if this would be a one-time thing. What would class be like now? I graduate soon anyway, you thought. If this all went south you could just forget it happened. You got to his apartment a couple of minutes before 7 and he let you up. When you got to the door you knocked twice and waited.
You’d never seen him so casual and… nervous. “Please, come in! You can put your things wherever you’d like,” he said. 
You looked around at his apartment. You could tell a professor lived there. Bookshelves lined the walls. On the dining table, there was a bottle of wine with two glasses. You put down your bag near the door. You didn’t know what to do with your hands. He noticed your apprehension. 
“Do you like wine? I got a nice Malbec after class today. Thought we could crack open a bottle.” 
“Yes, I’d like that very much.”
“Nerves?”
“Yeah.”, you confirmed.
“Me too. But, uh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me.”
He smiled and the tension in your body slipped away. It was replaced by a sense of calm. Jim was letting you into his home, and into his life. You sat down at the table and he removed the cord from the bottle. You watched his hands work, feeling eager to get them on you. But that had to wait, he was about to take his time. He poured you and himself a glass. You sat across from him and took a sip, hoping its effects would be immediate. 
“I’m glad you came. You know, I thought you’d think I was too old for you.” And he might’ve been. Twenty years was a healthy gap but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t indulge in. Hell, if you could, you’d date him. 
“Not at all.” You replied. “I can’t lie, I’ve been thinking about it all year.”
“About what?”, he pushed.
“About… seeing you.”
“You can say it.” He noticed your blush. 
“I want to hear you say it.”, he egged you on.
You sighed, trying to muster up the words. “I’ve been thinking about… being with you all year.”
“And doing what?”, he took another sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to say it?”
“Yes.”, There was no way you would be able to admit it to him fully.
“You want your professor to fuck you. You want me to take you to my room, undress you, and take care of you better than anyone ever has.”
Your face was red. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” You drank from your glass. 
“Come here.”, he spoke softly and you got up. “Straddle me, love.” 
You sat on his lap and he looked up at you, grinning ear to ear. He brought his hand up to your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. It was brief. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. Then he kissed you again. And, again. Then, he started kissing your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as you felt him getting hard underneath you. He kissed and nipped at your skin. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and he pulled it off before you could register it happening. Once it did, you helped him out of his. 
He tapped your ass a couple times, silently saying get up. He walked you backward and pushed you up against a nearby wall. He started removing a bra strap, but you stopped him.
“Well don’t get shy on me now.”, he chuckled. “Come.” He reached out his hand and you grabbed it. He led you down the hall to his bedroom and you sat down on the bed. You took your cues from him. As he started to lean over, you began to lay down. His hand was unhooking your bra with one hand. He was finicking with it and after a few moments, it was off. The cool air hitting your nipples caused them to rise. Jim kissed you again, then kissed down your neck, and finally put his hands on you. He licked, sucked, and grabbed your breasts. 
“You’re so beautiful. Even more gorgeous than I could have imagined. Baby, I need to taste you.” 
You wanted to protest but your pants were already coming off. Your panties followed. He groaned, “Fuck, baby, all this for me?
Before you could respond he kissed the inside of your thigh, then down, down, down until he reached your pussy. You were so wet for him already. He used his fingers first, wanting to feel you first. 
“You always get this wet for your Professor?”
“Yes.”, you responded breathlessly. His fingers were moving in and out of you. Slowly at first and then faster. He hit that perfect spot each time. Then he added his mouth. This time he didn’t go slow. He was licking and sucking on your clit. You moaned out his name and he smiled. He ate you out like his life depended on it. No one had ever done this to you. No one had ever paid this much attention to your body. You were a whimpering mess. His hand found its way back to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He then squeezed, hard, which made you load loudly. 
“Please Jim, I’m gonna cum.”, you plead. 
 He got you close to the edge and then pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of him. “Please, keep going.”
“No, if you’re gonna cum, I’m gonna be inside of you.” He took off the rest of his clothing. You moaned at the sight of him. He was right. You would never need the toy again. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. He knew this and instead decided to tease you with his cock. He dragged it along you and tapped your clit the same way you did with your toy at home. Only this was a hundred times better.  
He nipped at your ear and whispered. “You really want it, huh?”
“Yes,” you begged “It’s all I want.” 
He grinned and entered you slowly and without warning. Your jaw dropped slightly. You couldn’t even make a sound, you were too busy with the feeling of him filling you up entirely. He let out a sigh and grabbed your chin.
“Look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me while I fuck you.” You did as he said. He started to pick up the pace. He was making this intimate. He caressed your face and made almost as much noise as you did. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, following directions. Ready for another one?” You nodded. 
“Get on top. Sit down on my cock.” You started moving before he even finished his sentence. There was no room for shyness anymore. He sat up against the headboard as you sunk down on him; the new angle was doing wonders for the both of you. He thrusted up, wanting to feel more of you. He held you close to him as you began to ride him. 
“You sure know how to treat a girl, Professor.”, you said breathlessly.
He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure know how to treat your Professor. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl.”
His hand found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles. He wanted to make sure you came first.
And you did.
It came in waves. You felt it build up and told him you were close. Then, you fell apart. You pulled him close and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you came. 
“That’s it, baby. So, so good for me. God, such a pretty little thing.“ He took control, holding you up and thrusting into you. The sensation was almost too much to bear. 
“Where do you want it.”, he asked.
“Inside. Please. I’m on the-“
“Are you sure, love?” You could tell he couldn’t wait any longer. 
You begged, “Yes. Yes, I am, just please cum inside me.”
And he did.
He filled you to the brim. You felt him twitch inside of you as his hips stuttered. He held onto you so tightly you were sure it would leave marks. You were both breathing hard. He stayed inside of you and held you against him. He put his forehead against yours as you regained your breath. 
He kissed you again, this time not wanting to pull away. But, you did. You pulled yourself off of him and laid down as the realization of what you did started sinking in. He lied down next to you and stared at the ceiling.
Silence. And after a few moments, you turned your head and spoke.
“So, is this it?” It came out more timid than you would have liked it to. 
He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place and after a moment he said, “Oh, love, you’re mine now.”
2K notes · View notes
torasplanet · 3 months
Text
❝𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎.ᐟ❞
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K. BAKUGOU, S. TODOROKI, & I. MIDORIYA + SHY!GN. READER
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; the main three when their shy/anxious s/o finally says 'i love you'<3
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, hcs + scenarios, new relationships, literally that's it and skin color not mentioned
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IZUKU MIDORIYA
izu just can't with this.
he understands how you're shy and all of that so it might take you some time to get comfortable saying those things
hell he even was scared to say it too but this long??? really?
izu has begun to think that you'd never say it at this rate...
he got so scared that you didn't love him at all and was just too scared to tell him the truth because you didn't wanna hurt his feelings!
or maybe he's just overthinking again...
that doesn't matter because izu never tells you his concerns. he wants you to take your time
he doesn't wanna rush you and make it forced!
that being said...when you finally do say it on your own, he thinks he just might lose his mind.
izuku's anxious sitting at his desk with you right beside him almost breaking the pencil in half and it was a mechanical pencil. he was holding back because he didn't want to frighten you but he just couldn't sit here while you're looking so cute.
he wanted to say he loved how cute you looked so bad but he was worried that maybe it'd make you uncomfortable since you weren't saying i love you to him yet.
that had been getting to him a lot lately and he didn't know how to handle it without talking to you. he knew how you were and didn't want to make it worse. see izuku himself was a fairly shy person, well not so much as he was in middle school but he understood you and your feelings but not enough for it to not bother him!
"ohhh! i get it now!" you exclaimed leaning back in your chair. your sudden loud speech snapped izuku out of his thoughts and he smiled at you sweetly with a hum escaping him.
you gave him a grin "thanks izu! i love you, i don't know what i'd do without you." you spoke without thinking and immediately closed your eyes out of embarrassment at what he'd say in response. you didn't think about what you were saying, you just said the first thing that came to mind...when you heard a loud bang, you opened your eyes and looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.
izu's face was planted on the desk and he was letting out a hum that didn't seem positive or anything; more like he was a kettle on the stove. "oh uhm...are you okay?" you hesitantly asked going to reach for him but he snapped up before you could touch him. izuku's face was bright red and it looked like he was burning up "i love you too!" he shouted with a smile on his face clearly happy that you finally said that. you were a bit weirded out but at least he was happy.
KATSUKI BAKUGOU
oh please don't even get me started on katsuki...
like izu, he was really upset about you not saying you love him especially when he said it to you first and you didn't say it back
but unlike izuku, he could give less than a fuck about not wanting to talk to you about it
the only thing that stopped him from doing that was that denki told him that he'd probably hurt your feelings like that and that was the last thing he wanted to do so for once, he shut up
but his aggression was fairly obvious because every time he said he loved you with that frown on his face, it'd get deeper when you didn't say it back and just smiled at him
katsuki felt like he'd actually blow up a building if you took longer to say it.
"what the hell are you doing up there!?" katsuki shouted from down below in the training area while you stood on one of the buildings looking for denki who was supposed to be your other partner.
you looked down at the masked boy very cautiously i might add and just nervously gave him an 'uh' showing you didn't know. katsuki grunted in frustration as he looked around to see if there was any one from the other team around to make sure that you guys didn't lose. he was already beginning to sweat just from pure anger.
when the class was splitting up to go to the locker rooms for costume changes, katsuki had told you he loved you and that he'd see you on the grounds but...you didn't say it back. you just laughed a bit showing that you were growing embarrassed and gave him a very small peck on his cheek.
see katsuki did appreciate that but he wanted an 'i love you' back not a kiss especially not a little baby kiss to the cheek that one of his cousins would give him but again, he stayed silent and just grumbled under his breath in the lockerroom. he was already pissed off from that but now denki was nowhere to be found? that dumb fucker was probably lost.
little did the both of you know, he was behind you planning on surprising you which was not the best idea considering you were almost dangling over the edge of a building right now. "boo!" denki shouted in your ear making you jump and lose your footing. you slipped and fell off the edge of the building with a yelp drawing your boyfriend's attention.
he was quick to blast up into the air and catch you in his arms before you even slightly neared the ground "oh my god! i love you so much 'suki!" you said in desperation as you wrapped your arms around him and clutched onto him in fear that you'd fall. katsuki would never drop you but he almost did when he heard you finally say it back to him.
"ha! i thought you'd never say it!" katsuki shouted with a grin on his face as he landed on the ground, your face still stuffed in his shoulder. you hadn't even realized what you said until he just pointed it out "oh..." you muttered feeling embarrassment creep up on you as your boyfriend put you on the ground. you put your palms to your face to cover you hot face but the blonde grabbed your hands and forcefully pulled them away from your face "stop that shit! if you think i don't love you back, i do." katsuki said muttering the last part a little lower because denki was shouting apologies from the top of the building and could probably hear a few things.
katsuki had a bit to learn about embarrassment when saying that kind of stuff too.
SHOTO TODOROKI
pls dont ever talk to him about this
he'll actually just sit there silent probably dying inside
shoto has had his fair share of not getting told i love you or getting a sort of warped kind of love so you not saying i love you isn't something relatively new to him
but he still hates it.
he can't even begin to explain the ache in his chest when ou don't say it back to him, not like he'd ever explain it to anyone
unlike both of the other boys, he's extremely patient and no matter how he feels, he won't throw small tantrums over you not saying it and will just wait
but as he waited, he got more needy for hearing those three words
"sho..." you whined dragging out the o in your boyfriend's name while you tried to get up from under the many blankets shoto had you bundled under. he had the whole work for you.
thermometer on the bedside desk and cold medicine right next to it while you continuously sneezed and coughed in bed. you had gotten sick recently and your darling two-toned-haired boyfriend had been there for every step! making you food, running your baths, just being a complete sweetheart.
shoto, by default, was a sweet boyfriend but he had been a little extra kind lately in hopes that you'd tell him that you loved him for all of his efforts of going out of his way for you. he didn't know what was going on in your brain but he clearly knew you well because that was what you were planning to do.
telling the boy that you loved him would be the perfect way to express your gratitude to him for all he's done throughout your sickness that was caused by your stupidity of going to the market in the cold night after getting out of the shower "coming, my love." shoto said waddling into the room with a bowl of steaming ramen on the small wooden table he had in his hands to make it easier for you to eat in bed. he was really playing the house husband role.
"here, the broth will make you feel better. i promise." the boy said setting the table on the bed just above your legs while kneeling to the ground, you smiled at the todoroki boy deciding that this was the perfect time to tell him that you loved him.
with a blow toward the scalding bowl, you uttered the words quietly "i love you sho." you grew shy after saying that not knowing how he'd respond and his silence ate you alive. you grabbed your chopsticks as you kept your head down to avoid eye contact "sorry, just ignore it–" "no." he interrupted your excuse almost making you knock the bowl over with now fast your body turned to look at him again.
sho's cheeks were flushed a light pink "i love you too. just didn't expect you to say that." he said chuckling lightly with a smile on his face. it might've been true that he wished for you to say it now but it still surprised him.
in a good way though... "can i have a kiss?" you asked smiling back at your boyfriend who still gave you a close-eyed grin, sho stood to his feet "no. you will get me sick." he replied in a monotone before beginning to walk away muttering how he was going to get you something to drink.
you whined loudly throwing your head back. "sho....!"
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