#Actually quite pleased with how it turned out!!!!

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 16 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: You get lucky and you get to go out. And then you're not so lucky anymore.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, oral sex, rough sex, choking, face slapping, biting, breeding kink, degradation kink, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The darkness wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t even the uncertainty.

The worst part was, that after everything that had happened, you were back in here.

Back in the closet.

Back in the small, cramped space of the empty closet, where you had spent quite a few days so far. Back then it had always been to discipline you, to break you, to turn you into someone you were not – or someone you knew you were, deep down.

Whatever it was, it was in the past. You had really thought it had been the last time back then, but there you were. On your knees, breathing heavily and leaning against the wall for support.

The dizziness was so apparent that you felt you might lose the ground beneath your feet any second. Something was off.

You had often felt sick in your life, but this was different. You were different.

You weren’t supposed to be there. No matter the reason. Not like this, not anymore, not-

How did it get to this point yet again?

You kept your eyes closed and tried to breathe calmly, shutting the darkness out. In your head, you recalled everything that had happened that day. It had started so good. Almost like you were in a movie. And now you were here again.

In and out. In. And out.

You remembered the water. Soft and warm, as he slowly poured it over your head. God, it had felt heavenly. His ministrations, his kisses on your neck and the warm water which glided down your skin in a way that made you melt. Nothing was sexual about it, it was simply…warm. And safe.

With your back pressed against his chest, you leaned back against him in the bathtub. It wasn’t all too spacious, but it was enough. It was all the better, actually. You felt him so close without really feeling him. Without the sensation of having his hands reach for the sensitive parts of your body. Instead he ran them up your back and gently massaged your shoulders, easing every knot and tense muscle until you felt like a new person.

You kept your eyes closed and sighed softly, reveling in the way the warm water hugged your lower body. The callouses on his hands sent shivers down your spine, while he kept gently massaging you. He went from massaging, to soaping and cleansing with a fresh bit of lukewarm water. The thing you loved most was when he slowly poured it over your head and gently massaged your scalp with his fingertips.

“Oh God, that feels so good.” You heard yourself whisper, followed by a soft sigh. You heard the way he smirked behind you, before he rested his chin on your shoulder and pressed a soft kiss against your cheek. That made you smile in return.

“Are you feeling any better?” He murmured.

You had spent the previous night tossing and turning, feeling rather dizzy, despite the fact that you lay down flat and had your eyes shut. That happened sometimes, it had always been like that. There were some nights when you simply felt sick and the only thing that helped was fresh air and a cool cloth on your forehead. Both things he had done for you. He hadn’t hesitated to pull out his chip and open the window. Then he went to the bathroom and came back with a damp cloth. He had placed it over your forehead and eyes and spent half the night sitting beside you, occasionally dampening the cloth anew. You had never seen him like that. So soft, so concerned. So…everything you loved about him.

Of course you loved his darkness all the same. Probably not all of it. You didn’t quite appreciate when he got angry and cut your hair. But that hadn’t happened ever since that one time.

He hadn’t dared to lay down or even think about sleeping, until you were firmly asleep.

The next morning he waited for you, when you woke up, a buttered piece of bread and a cup of tea by your bedside. You had somehow choked it down, because you didn’t quite feel like yourself yet, but it had helped. And now you were here, in his gentle embrace, enjoying his warmth and care.

“Very much.” You whispered back. “Thank you.”

He hummed in response and picked up a soapy cloth, with which he began to gently rub your back.

You closed your eyes and suppressed a content moan. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Someone has to.”

That made you chuckle. “And that someone has to be you?”

He briefly stopped with his ministrations and you could practically hear the way he raised his brows. “Don’t even joke about that.”

That gave you a warm smile. “Silly old man.” You murmured.

He laughed at that and pinched your side, causing you to shriek out a laugh and nearly flood the whole bathroom floor. “Who are you calling old?”

You chuckled and looked over your shoulder. “I won’t take it back.”

He cocked a brow and pinched your side again.

“Okay, okay!” You laughed breathlessly. “You win.”

He smirked and pulled you flush against his chest again, wrapping his arms around your torso. You gently circled his wrists and pressed a soft kiss against one of them. “I’m really happy.” You said quietly.

He was quiet for a moment, obviously caught off-guard by your words. It was like a part of him still expected you to try and flee if you got the chance, just like a part of you always expected his hand to twitch when you teased him too much.

“Why?”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “Can’t you ever just leave things be?”

He hummed and shook his head. “Why?”

You shot him a cocky grin. “Because the most handsome man in South-Korea decided to abduct me.”

“Abduct? Oh, please. It’s not my fault you got no sense of self-preservation.” He shrugged. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to get into strangers cars?”

“If I refused you back then, don’t you think you would have found another way to get me? After all, you did some pretty sketchy shit long before.”

He smirked. “Do we have to go on about this every day now?”

Now it was you who hummed and smirked right back at him. “After all, you went and stole my underwear. How original.”

“Don’t make me tickle you again.”

“No, no, no, no, no – ah!” You laughed and splashed some water in his face. He responded in kind, so you had to squeeze your eyes shut.

Low laughter rumbled in his chest, until eventually he fell quiet again and gently caught your chin between two fingers. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

You smiled warmly. You had no response for that.

You leaned back against him and closed your eyes. Everything was perfect. This was far better than anything you had ever read in any book, seen in any movie or imagined in your head. He was your dark prince, your savior. You were indeed made for each other. You saw it now. He was twisted, it was no secret and he had hurt you in more than one way. But none of them were irreparable. He had hurt you, locked you away, humiliated you, played with your life – but he had also freed you. He had shown you what love meant. What passion was. That you were indeed someone. Someone worthy of love and care. You were his.

And he was yours.

“Would you like to go out to eat today?”

Your eyes snapped open in a cartoonish way and you sat up straight faster than intended. You spun around and stared at him like a fool.

His lips twitched at the corners and his eyes twinkled in amusement. “So, is that a yes?”

You kept staring at him. A part of you expected it to be either a test or a joke, but despite his amusement, he seemed rather serious about it.

“Really?” You whispered in a voice that was barely audible. You wanted to be happy about it, but a part of you held back. Your mind was ready to, but you body braced itself for a fit of disappointment.

But his expression didn’t waver and instead, he nodded softly.

“I trust you.” He said gently. His words, combined with his soft voice, sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I trust you not to deceive me.”

Of course you heard the subtle threat behind his words. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. You were quite good when it came to reading his intentions. His emotions. They were there. Even when he tried to make it appear like there were none.

“I won’t.” You whispered further. “I’d never.”

Two hours later you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, nervously fidgeting with your ponytail. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly that made you so nervous. Was it the fact that you hadn’t been properly outside in months? Had the world changed in the time being?

No.

No, it was something else.

You were afraid. Terrified, even. You were terrified of making a mistake and destroying the lovely cloud that had built around you. The safe space that you felt whenever you were around him, taking a bath together or cooking, while he stood behind you, a hand on your hip as he watched what you were doing over your shoulder.

“Take as much time as you need.” You heard him call out from the living room. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. You looked good. You wore the dark green dress and you felt as confident in it as you possibly could. It still felt kind of foreign for you to go out, looking like this, being on his arm. But you knew you would manage it. He would help you through it. Talk you through it. Hold you and guide you, the same way he always did.

And so you finally made your way out.

He sat on the couch, his ankle over his knee and he stared down at his hands, while he waited. He wore a suit and a tie, his hair slicked back casually like it normally was. He looked so effortlessly perfect.

Once he noticed you, he looked up and his entire face lit up at the sight of you.

“Look at that.” He murmured and you smiled.

“Can we?”

He got up and held out his hand to you. Your fingers intertwined with his, you slowly made your way towards the door.

“Don’t be nervous.” He whispered in your ear as he slowly reached for the chip in his chest pocket. “I’m right here.”

You nodded and nibbled on your lower lip, when you heard the soft click of the door. And it opened. Just like that. It was open, open for you. You trembled when you stepped over the threshold. For the first time in how many months? You were outside. Outside. In the real world. But you weren’t the same woman you were when you first came here. The timid mouse who knew nothing but the reality she made for herself. No, now you were here and you were his.

His girl.

You took the elevator to the first floor and took a long glance around. So many things you hadn’t noticed the first time. The black wall that was such a big contrast to the other, white ones. The ceiling fan.

The letter box.

The letter box – it had to have his name on it. It had to. He lived here, right? He had to be there, there had to be some kind of record of him. He was someone, he was holding your hand for God’s sake, he had to-

He followed your gaze and his hold on your hand tightened subtly.

He leaned down, so his lips grazed your earlobe and he whispered: “Go ahead. Take a look.”

It sounded almost challenging, but you were sure, he wouldn’t punish you. Not even if it was a test. Not here, at least. Not outside. Not now.

So, you took a shaky step forward and your gaze followed the rows of names.

48, Apartment 7c belonged to…Blank.

A frown pulled at your lips and he smirked down at you.

“Silly girl.” He mused. “I thought you understood that I’m a ghost. Now, come. You must feel famished.”

You swallowed down your disappointment and followed him.

The moment you felt the warmth of the sun on your skin, the soft breeze of the wind, you stopped walking for a moment. All you could do was freeze on the spot and close your eyes, relishing in the way that it all made you feel. How could you ever before have taken this for granted?

It was perfect. It was Heaven.

You hardly even recognized his gaze on you as all you could focus on was the fact that you were alive.

Alive.

And well. As well as possible, at least.

He smiled at the sight of you and stood back, his hands clasped together in front of his lower body.

“How do you feel now?”

You inhaled deeply and tilted your head back, enjoying the warmth, the love you felt.

It was a single word, but it was hardly enough to capture the way you truly felt.

“Perfect.”

The way to the restaurant went without any further incidents. You decided to walk, because it wasn’t that far and because you had practically begged him to. You wanted to revel in the feeling of this freedom for as long as you could. It didn’t take much to convince him, but he kept his hand on the small of your back possessively the whole way. You didn’t mind that though, not one bit. It was the perfect addition to this wonderful day actually. You belonged to him and he didn’t let you forget it.

When you finally reached the restaurant – a cozy, little Italian place – he led you inside and your heart skipped a beat. The place was filled with all kinds of people, all of them going on about their day and barely acknowledging you. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, obviously trying to gauge your intentions, trying to make sure you stayed in your place and didn’t try to play any tricks on him. But nothing could have been further from your intentions. All you could think about was how you were here, how you kept asking yourself if all of this was real.

Your eyes sparkled in the intimate light of the afternoon sun that shone through the windows as you kept glancing at everything as if you saw it for the first time.

It was like that of course, but it wasn’t your first time going to a restaurant. But it was your first time going out as the woman you now were.

As his.

His eyes followed you with a mixture of amusement and adoration.

The waiter came and he ordered something to drink for the both of you, as well as pizza, pasta and a salad. You hardly even recognized any of it, because you were lost in your own world. Once the waiter left, he reached for your hand and gently squeezed it, capturing your attention.

“How do you feel?”

You smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

He cocked a brow and leaned back. “That’s how you feel, hm?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I just…I feel so…” You sighed deeply and gently ran your thumb over the back of his hand. “I love it here. And I love you.”

His lips curved into a slow smile. “Looks like I’ll be forced to take you out more often then.”

Soon the food and the drinks arrived and you stared down at everything with wide, nearly wild, eyes.

“Dig in, darling.”

You took a bite of the Carbonara pasta and you immediatelyhad to bite back a groan. “Oh God, this is good.”

He smirked as he watched you eat in silence.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“Give me a moment.” He murmured. “I’m appreciating the sight.”

That made you smirk. “Stop buttering me up and eat something. I feel like a caveman compared to you.”

That made him laugh. A warm, rich sound. A sound you adored and you wished to hear for the rest of your life, actually.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not the silly one. Open up.” You picked up the spoon and looked at him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Despite his reservations, he obeyed and parted his lips, allowing you to feed him a spoonful Spaghetti Carbonara. He hummed in response and licked his lips in a way that made your own mouth run dry.

“Delicious.” He purred.

You looked at him with the same mischievousness and slowly lifted the spoon to your lips, the same spoon he had just lapped at, and it disappeared inside your mouth.

His eyes darkened as he watched you with a playful gleam. “Tease.”

You smiled innocently and took a bite of the pizza. It tasted warm and rich, the cheese was practically melting on your tongue. “Me? A tease? Never.”

He grinned and playfully flicked your earlobe.

You laughed and swatted his hand away.

“Hey!” You bit your lip and tilted your head to the side. “I’ll show you what a tease can do.”

Before he even had the time to react, you placed your hand on his knee, sliding it up the tiniest bit on his thigh. His eyes widened and he nearly choked on his tea. Poor him. It was probably hot.

“Don’t you dare.” He murmured.

Your fingertips wandered up further, while you kept your eyes fixed on his. All the while you used your free hand to take another bite of the pizza.

“Don’t I dare what?” You murmured in feigned innocence.

He exhaled slowly through his nose as he watched you through his darkened eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean.” He said lowly.

Your hand just barely skimmed over the growing bulge in his pants, but you caught the way he closed his eyes and held himself back from making any sounds.

“You-“

You began to gently massage his hardness through the fabric of his pants and now you clearly heard the way his breathing sped up.

You had no idea what on earth was going on with you. This wasn’t like you, not at all actually. But the day had started off so wonderful and it only ever got better. He was so sweet and considerate, though he was always on guard. You just wanted to make him melt a little, like he always did you.

“You were saying?” You whispered softly.

He finally looked up at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

You looked deeply into his eyes and a new sort of heat covered your cheeks and inside your chest. You wanted nothing more than to see him crumble, to bring him to the edge of ecstasy.

“But I can.”

You glanced around and before he knew it, you were already under the table. The table cloth was so long that it covered you completely and kept you from prying eyes.

His own eyes widened and he nearly let out a startled breath. He glanced around as well, before his eyes settled on your form under the table. His gaze was as incredulous as it was hungry.

“Are you insane?” He hissed while you were already on your best way to free him from the confinement of his slacks.

You smirked devilishly and didn’t make any sound, you just focused on the task at hand. A second later he was free and yet another second later, your mouth enveloped him.

He tensed beneath your touch and his hand instantly tangled in your hair. You observed the way his eyes fell shut and he didn’t even try to keep a straight face.

“Oh God, you’re such a fucking idiot.” He breathed out and tightened his hand in your hair. “Oh God, yes, like that. Don’t stop.”

You gently sucked on the tip before you took him in completely again, causing him to bite back a groan.

You heard someone passing by and he quickly straightened up, schooling his expression, but the look in his eyes was wild.

You made a point of sucking slightly harder whenever someone passed by your table and he tugged on your ponytail warningly.

You smirked against his skin and flicked your tongue against his tip, before you slowly pulled back.

“Tell me that you love me.”

His head snapped up and he looked at you with a frown. “What?”

You nearly brushed your lips against him, but pulled back the last moment, leaving him aching and bucking his hips against the place where your mouth had just been.

“Tell me that you love me.” You whispered again.

He stiffened and glanced around, as if that was the most scandalous part about this.

He grunted and shot you a dark look.

“Stop this.”

You made a point of almost kissing him, before you pulled back again.

He let out a soft sigh, but didn’t try to guide your movements. He just stared at you with growing impatience.

“Come on-“

“It’s true, isn’t it? So, say it.”

You licked along his shaft, but missed the tip on purpose. His eyes fluttered shut and he cupped your cheek in his hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle. You had actually expected him to be beyond livid.

“I love you.” He breathed out and ran his thumb along your temple.

Your heart skipped a beat and you swallowed. He still had trouble saying it and you were well aware that it wasn’t the most elegant way to tickle it out of him like that, but sometimes you just needed it. You needed to feel like you were in control of something. And he needed to learn it, right?

After all you had learned so many things for him.

Dresses. Sex. Trust.

Pain.

And love.

“I love you, too.” You whispered back. But you didn’t give him time to think about your words or the fact that he had said them, because you quickly went back to pleasuring him and this time, you weren’t being teasing about it.

Instead you worked your mouth on him in a way that had him writhing and trembling in his seat. His grip on your hair was tight, but not in the way it usually was. He didn’t hold onto you to guide your movements. This was your show. You were the one in control. He just kept his tight hold on you to keep himself from making any sounds.

When you felt him spill himself into your mouth, his body was shaking so hard, it was probably obvious for everyone close-by. But you didn’t care and he obviously didn’t either, because he buried his face in his free hand and tried to breathe out as quietly as he could. The pleasure nearly sent him spiraling off his chair. After a long, tense moment his breathing slowly slowed down and his grip on you became gentle again. He looked down at you with a soft vulnerability in his eyes that you didn’t get to see often. You had caught him off-guard, while also making him feel like he was indeed the one in control.

And his eyes were soft.

He glanced around to make sure there was no one watching, before he swiftly pulled you back up onto the chair beside his. His draped one arm around your waist and used the other one to quickly get himself decent again.

“You’re such a minx.” He breathed out, still trying to normalize his breathing.

Your lips felt swollen and sore, but you didn’t regret it one bit. You had come to love doing this to him. Nothing turned you on as much as the way his eyes darkened in pleasure.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his tie. His perfect appearance seemed rather disheveled now and the sight made you smile. You loved being reminded of the fact that he was human. That under the whole act of being stern and angry, cold and emotionless, he was indeed a man with flaws, a man with a past, a man with a name.

He gently tipped your chin up, before he picked up his tea cup and lifted it to your lips, tilting your head back. The hot liquid burned down your throat, but you appreciated the way he always took care of you.

He never allowed you to feel used afterwards. Never. Not even when he was angry with you.

“You’re so beautiful like that, you know that?” He murmured as he set the cup back down.

“How?”

He smiled at you. “When you let go and you’re just being yourself.”

That made you laugh. “You think that was me being myself?”

“Mhm.” He purred. “It might be hard for you to believe, but I think exactly that. Under all that sadness and that silence of yours, there’s actually a girl, hungry for life.”

Your eyes softened as you stared up at him.

He licked his lips and released a slow breath.

“And I, darling, I am dying to be the one to satisfy that hunger.”

The rest of the meal went by without any further outbursts – and it was wonderful. You spent your time laughing and talking about all kinds of things. You learned more and more about him and he learned the things he didn’t already know about you. His family and his childhood were still a taboo topic, but you didn’t mind that. You were sure, once the time was right, he would let you in about that part of his life as well. Just like his job…and maybe, just maybe, even his name.

More than one and a half hours later, you were back outside, slowly making your way through the streets which became more and more crowded the closer you got to the city.

Since everything went on so smoothly, he decided to take you out for a small shopping trip as well. You still felt rather lightheaded after the short night you had, but you couldn’t bring yourself to protest. Every moment outside felt like a little piece of Heaven to you.

So, you walked in silence, his hand on your back and his gaze flicked to you every now and then.

He seemed to be rather deep in thought and you caught yourself wanting to ask him what was on his mind, but you didn’t. You were quite caught up in your own mind.

A few minutes later you reached the mall, a rather crowded space, something that made you feel a bit uneasy. You didn’t like places like this one, so you normally avoided them. But this time you weren’t alone. His hand on your back gave you a great measure of comfort. You curled into his side and took his arm, ready to walk the halls like a normal couple.

It felt surprisingly normal.

You still felt his slightly suspicious gaze. He couldn’t relax, couldn’t relax entirely. Not even the fact that you had just been on your knees for him, when you were normally so closed-off. He had a hard time trusting, something you understood well. But a part of you still wished he would finally try and trust you fully.

As if to reassure him, you shot him a soft smile. He returned it, surprisingly, and his grip on your back eased slightly.

“Where would you like to go?” He murmured into your ear.

You smirked and glanced around.

“The bookstore?”

That made him laugh. “Such an odd girl. The bookstore it is.”

You made your way through countless rows of books, reading and dreaming yourself into the stories, while he stayed firmly by your side and kept his gaze on you. Whichever book you picked up and held in your hand longer than fifteen seconds, he gathered it and propped it under his arm. By the time he scooped up the fifth book, you frowned at him.

“What are you doing?”

He frowned right back. “I’m buying them?”

Surprise flashed over your features, before you suddenly felt like laughing. “What? But I put them back.”

He shrugged. “You seemed to like them.”

You tried to hide the flutter in your chest. “But-“

“Shut up and keep looking, okay?”

You smiled down at your hands, before you set the book you had just held back down and made your way to the cash register.

Of course he picked up that book as well. You held it for a solid twenty seconds.

A few minutes later, you were back to wandering the mall. He had the bag with the books firmly in his hand and he had somehow convinced you to make a stop at Victoria’s Secret as well.

So far, your style had consisted of whatever fast fashion you found that was rather comfortable and didn’t bring you any fuss. But he insisted.

He insisted that you deserved more than that. That you deserved to feel like a princess.

And so he led you down the hallway until you made your way to the lingerie store.

And to your surprise, everything there was beautiful. You had expected to find it rather cliché, but no. Every piece you touched felt like a soft caress.

He made you try on at least seven pieces. A silky, red robe, lingerie of all kinds, a black negligee, a white corsage. And everything looked good on you.

You had half expected him to creep up on you in the changing room and retaliate for what you made him go through in the restaurant, but he waited in front of it patiently, eying every new fit with curiosity and awe. You felt rather relieved, because you still felt the tiniest bit dizzy and the thick air in there didn’t make it any better.

His eyes widened and he tugged at his tie, regarding you with a long look every time, making you turn around from every angle. And eventually, he bought them all for you.

What else did you expect?

He carried all the bags through the great halls of the mall and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling softly. It felt too perfect. He was too perfect.

When you glanced up at him that time, something felt strange and odd.

He didn’t immediately glance back at you. He wasn’t keeping his focus on you in a way that threatened to suffocate you. Instead, he walked beside you with the firm belief that you wouldn’t slip through his fingers. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. Was he finally growing more comfortable? Was he finally trusting you?

You kept staring at him for a moment, feeling caught up in your thoughts, unable to speak. You stared at him and the way his handsome features were tugged into a thoughtful, yet soft expression.

You loved him. And suddenly you wanted to tell him.

You opened your mouth, ready to say the words, when someone bumped into you from the side. It was an elderly couple and the woman quickly regarded you with an apologetic smile. You returned smile and looked back at him, just as quick, only to realize he wasn’t right next to you. Instead there was a group of about seven women, walking around with pink dresses and crowns on their heads. One of them wore a white dress instead and you realized it was most likely her bachelorette party. You caught sight of her face and she glanced right back at you. You smiled softly with a whole lot of fondness in your eyes and she immediately returned the smile.

What a wonderful thought. To have friends and well…A fiancé.

Was that something you could ever anticipate? Was that something you could allow yourself to dream about? Or were you destined to feel nothing but disappointment, whenever that topic came up in your mind?

The moment was fleeting and you quickly looked up to match his pace again, but you suddenly realized he wasn’t anywhere close by. He was a few steps ahead of you. It wouldn’t have been dramatic, if it wasn’t for the crowd of people that slowly built between you.

You saw him come to a halt and check the crowd between you. The softness in his expression immediately turned into something darker. The thoughtfulness turned into anger. And beneath the gentleness of his eyes, which had been there up until then, you saw it.

Panic.

You opened your mouth and raised your hand, waving and trying to make your way back to him, when suddenly-

You gasped out loud when someone suddenly squeezed your elbow. You yanked your arm back forcefully and shot the man a dark look, but he quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Forgive me, miss.” He said in a British accent. “You looked like you speak English. Am I right?”

You frowned slowly and looked up again to catch sight of-

“I just wanted to know – Can you tell me where to find the…uh…” He fumbled with a piece of paper in his hands.

“I’m not from here.” You said, panic rising within yourself. If he thought you had left him? Oh God, of course he would think that.

“Yes, I could tell as much.” The stranger with the dark blonde hair smiled apologetically. “May I ask where you are from?”

“What did you want to know?” You nearly snapped.

You weren’t normally as uncivil, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your patience was wearing thin and you had long but lost sight of the man you loved and who would undoubtedly punish you for this, if you got really unlucky.

“Of course. Pardon. I was asking myself, do you know where I can find the market square?” He smiled hopefully.

“No.” You said shortly. “I told you I’m not from here.” In a softer tone, you added: “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, please, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll make it somehow. Pardon me, I really don’t mean to pry, but is it possible you’re from England? Your accent-“

“I really need to find my husband.” Husband. The word sounded equally as ridiculous as it felt thrilling on your tongue.

He held up his hands again and took a step back. “Forgive me.” He smiled. “I got the hint.”

“No, I’m not making this up.” You suddenly felt guilty. “I mean, I was just-“

In that moment you felt a hand on your shoulder, squeezing possessively and you knew it was him, without having to look. When you did meet his gaze, his eyes were blazing and wide, a small stutter to his breath. Your own eyes widened and you opened your mouth helplessly.

“I’m sorry.” You said gently. “There were those women and then this man asked me for-“

When you looked back to introduce him to the mysterious stranger, you suddenly realized he wasn’t there anymore.

“I know.” He hissed lowly in your ear. “I saw him. Now, move.”

He didn’t say a single word all the way home. His eyes were narrowed and he carried all of the bags in one hand, so he kept his other hand on your arm. He held you by your wrist, tighter than before. His tight grip and the tension is body gave away how he truly felt.

Furious.

You swallowed and tried to keep up with his pace as you silently stumbled alongside him. You knew the dynamic had shifted and you were probably in trouble. It felt like that one time he caught you by the open door, only that now you had the great hope that he wouldn’t cut your hair for it.

Or try to choke you to death.

He pushed you into the elevator and pressed the button, only for another woman to enter. He shot you a dark, warning look. It made you sad if you were honest to yourself. Just when you thought that maybe he trusted you, he suddenly didn’t anymore.

You forced a smile when the woman glanced your way. She returned the smile and a few floors later, you made your way back towards the apartment. Somehow, you had a feeling this would be the last time you felt any freedom, for a long time.

Still, you followed him quietly when he held the door open for you. He stepped inside right after you. The sound of the door clicking shut announced the end of your short-lived dream of love and freedom. You closed your eyes to brace yourself, but you hardly had any time to.

He let go of the bags and pushed you against the wall, keeping a firm grip on your shoulders.

Oh, no.

“Do you want him, huh?”

“What?”

“Did he touch you?” He growled without any concern for what you had to say. “Did he get his fucking hands on you, huh? Did you like having his dirty fucking hands on you?”

You knew you were probably supposed to be afraid. But what you felt rather than that was surprised.

Surprised and offended.

And also a tiny bit relieved.

You had expected him to be furious because you got lost in the crowd. Because he’d probably think that you tried to leave.

But he…he was angry, because of the guy?

Was he…

“Are you jealous?”

He slammed your wrists against the wall and gritted his teeth in fury. “Damn right I am.” He hissed. “Did you enjoy the way he ogled you? Did you fucking enjoy it?”

His hands were shaking with barely suppressed anger, but he was somehow holding himself back. For your sake, most likely.

Your chest heaved rapidly.

“He didn’t touch me.” You breathed out.

“Are you sure?” He spat out. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? You’re such a-“ He stopped himself and closed his eyes.

“I’m such a what?” You said quietly.

His eyes snapped open and he glared at you. “You don’t get to give me an attitude. You better keep your mouth shut or else-“

“I’m such a what?!” You snapped back. “Say it! Say it, what am I?!”

He pondered with himself, it was obviously on the tip of his tongue.

His self from a few months ago would have had no trouble to say the word.

But not only you had changed. He had, too.

And now he seemed rather careful when it came to  harsh insults which he had no right to throw your way.

“What am I?” You gritted out. “Say it.”

He took a long breath, trying to calm himself down.

“Did he touch you?”

“He touched my elbow to stop me. But I didn’t let him.”

He bristled and clenched his jaw so hard, you feared he might break his teeth.

“Did you enjoy it?” He spat out. “Did you enjoy his fucking hands on you? Do you wish he was here to fuck you, huh? Do you want him to fucking fuck you?!”

“No!” You took a shaky breath. “No. No.” You then whispered. “I told him I need to find my husband.”

For a second he froze and stared at you with an intensity that was almost painful.

Husband.

You saw the way his eyes flashed and his heartbeat faltered.

“That…that means nothing.” He forced over his lips. “You still let him touch you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he slammed his hand down over your mouth and pressed tightly against it. You gasped in surprise, but held still otherwise.

“Do you know him? Huh? Is he some bastard from work, who tried to get in your pants while you were there?”

Your eyes widened in horror and you quickly shook your head.

“Yes, I’m sure he is.” He gritted out and pressed his whole body against you, pinning you against the wall. “Or maybe he did. Maybe he did get in your pants, huh? Maybe the whole virgin thing was just made up to mess with my mind.”

A pang of hurt made your stomach churn, but you tried to suppress it. He didn’t mean this. He was just angry. And whenever he got angry, he said things he didn’t mean.

“Did he fuck you?”  He spat out. “Did he fuck you? Did he push his goddamn, tiny cock inside you? Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy him?” His voice slowly turned into a whisper. His anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but that was not what you heard when he spat out his words. You heard desperation.

“Do you want him? Do you want him more than me?” His eyes held the same desperate, near-pleading look and you felt your heart soften.

You shook your head again and the look in your eyes mirrored his. Quietly pleading with him to believe you.

When he slowly pulled his hand back, you took a shaky breath.

“I’m yours.” You whispered breathlessly. “I’m only yours.”

The look in his eyes didn’t change, but he loosened his grip ever so slightly.

One of his hands slid down to cup your cheek.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again.”

“Yours. I belong to you. Only you.”

“Again…”

“I…”

Your eyes fluttered shut when he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Nothing about it was gentle. The softness of the last few days, weeks even – it disappeared. He kissed you like a man starved, desperate to claim what was his and remind you of that fact.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth and slid his hand further down, wrapping his fingers around your throat. You tilted your chin up and allowed him to. Something about it felt so incredibly thrilling. The way he controlled you, controlled even the fact if and when you were allowed to breathe – you trusted him with your life. And it turned you on like crazy.

You stumbled back to the bedroom, discarding your clothes on the way without ever taking your hands off each other. It was such an intense feeling, the overwhelming passion of being so angry and yet…wanting him.

Wanting him with every fiber of your being.

And he seemed to feel the same way, because he dragged you along and pushed you onto the bed with a low growl. He pressed down against you and moved his leg between your own, while he quickly unclasped your bra and threw it aside. He was only left in his slacks, which you undid with now rather practiced ease, after doing it nearly every day for weeks.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he responded with another deep growl, before he pushed his tongue back into your mouth. His hands ran down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He began to trace kisses down your jaw and neck, over the curve of your breast and back up, until you writhed underneath him, begging and arching your back.

“Stupid girl.” He grunted and bit your lip hard enough to draw blood. You moaned and pushed him back, which he didn’t take all too kindly. He hissed and pushed you further down, biting your lip again and now you felt the soft, metallic taste of your own blood on your tongue. You whimpered in response and before you could stop yourself, your hand cracked against his cheek. It wasn’t a hard slap, but enough to catch him off-guard; enough for his head to snap to the side.

Your eyes widened and you let out a startled gasp. He stayed like that for a moment, before he slowly turned his head and looked at you with an unreadable expression.

A part of you was almost sure, oh God, you were going to die.

All of you, actually.

He kept staring at you for a long moment, his lip twitching in what could only be anger. And eventually he crashed his lips against yours again, soothing the bite with his tongue.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you swallowed your relieved sigh, the moment when you felt his hand wrap around your throat again.

“I’m the only one who’ll ever get to fuck you.” He hissed out, one second before he pushed himself inside you and left you gasping for air.

“Fuck, wait-“

“No, baby, no. I’m going to fuck you and you will take it. Aren’t you my good girl? Aren’t you daddy’s good girl?”

He began to fuck you in a punishing pace, not giving you any time to adjust to the sensation of having him inside you at all. You moaned in a mixture of pain and undeniable pleasure, because the feeling of giving up control like that, it did all kinds of things to you. He hadn’t had you like this in weeks, you couldn’t tell how many it had been. And somehow, you missed it.

Fuck, you missed it.

As if on cue he tightened his grip on your throat and you gasped in surprise.

“Do you like this? Huh? My naughty girl. My little whore. Aren’t you my little whore? Huh? My personal little fucktoy?” He grunted while he kept fucking you in a way that made you feel like you were being ripped apart. He kept hitting your sweet spot with such a ferocity that you were sure you were going to burst any second.

“Answer me.” He growled. “Are you my whore?”

Your eyes rolled back in your head, but you forced yourself to nod.

“Good girl.” He breathed out. He suddenly shifted so that he was no longer holding you by your throat with his hand. Instead he pushed his arm behind your head and wrapped it around your neck, pressing his biceps against your throat, while he kept fucking you furiously.

He cut off most of your air supply and you felt a sense of panic rise within you.

He was so strong, too strong for you, so fucking hard and…

You couldn’t breathe, so you clawed at his arm like a cornered animal.

He smirked. The fucking bastard smirked.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He mocked.

You tried to choke out a response, but all that came out was a strangled sound. You were nothing more than his toy to use, his to torment, but suddenly-

Ah, fuck.

You came with an intensity you had probably never felt before. Your eyes rolled back so far, you were afraid they might stay that way and your hips lifted off the mattress, pressing against his. You couldn’t speak, but that didn’t mean you were quiet. The strangled sound of your moans reached his ears and he moaned in response. Your walls clenched around him and it never seemed to stop.

It went on and on and on…Until the feeling finally passed.

He immediately pulled his arm back and you collapsed on the bed, hungrily gasping for air. You hadn’t even realized how you clawed at his skin so hard that you broke it.

He bit his lip and looked down at you with a soft frown. “Are you okay?”

“Fucking bastard.” You breathed out and now it was you, who silenced him with a kiss. He was still moving his hips, moving in and out of you, but with gentler movements now, so he didn’t cause your body to go into overdrive.

He smirked against your lips. “Bastard? That’s new.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You whispered and buried your hand in his hair, tugging on it. You weren’t exactly gentle about it.

“Feisty.” He groaned into the kiss.

“You have no idea.” You murmured.

With a swift movement, that seemed to kick all the air out of his lungs, you pushed him back and shifted so that you straddled him instead.

“What are you-“

“I said”, you said lowly, “shut up. You nearly killed me. You don’t get to speak.”

The idiot had the audacity to smile.

“You seemed to like it.” He teased.

Your face flushed red in embarrassment and you glared down at him. “I’m not…denying that. But still. It’s my turn.”

His brows rose in surprise, but before he could say anything, you lowered your hips down against his and guided his hardness back inside you. He groaned and his head fell back against the mattress.

“Fuck, there’ll be nothing of me left tomorrow.” He breathed out.

“Makes two of us.” You whispered. Your throat felt sore, but you didn’t care. You wanted to ride the hell, the life out of him. You wanted to see him broken, battered, bruised and satisfied to death.

You began to move your hips, moaning every time you felt him so incredibly deep.

“Are you sure you can handle this? Aren’t you maybe biting off more than you can chew?” He murmured, but it sounded strained.

“Do…you…ever…shut up?” You breathed and squeezed his face in one hand. A particularly hard thrust later, his façade finally crumbled and his eyes fell shut. You did that pelvic floor exercise thing on him you had read about, squeezing him in, taking him in, making him feel you even closer and something suddenly snapped inside of him.

“Fuck-“ He gripped your hips so hard, you were sure you’d have new bruises in the morning.

You kept grinding against him, once, twice, thrice…

And then you stopped. You pulled back and hovered in the air, holding yourself up against his shoulders.

The sound he made was pathetic.

Since it was him, it was a mixture of pathetic and furious, though.

“What are you doing?! Get back-“

“No.”

His eyes widened and he lifted his hips, but you pulled back even further.

“No? What do you mean No?!”

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” You said flatly. His eyes were so wide, he looked insane.

More so than usual.

“You’re- Not-“

That was his weak spot. No matter how terribly he yearned, ached for you, he wouldn’t fuck you when you weren’t in the mood. Right?

It was one of the things you loved so much about him. Sure, in the beginning he told you he’d fuck you whenever. But you quickly realized that wasn’t entirely true.

He did love to push your boundaries and make you take far more than you could, but he didn’t ever try to have you when you didn’t want him to.

“Unless you beg me.” You smirked down at him.

He narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Mhm.” You purred. “Beg me and I might consider it.”

His eyes slowly closed and you saw the way he throbbed and twitched.

“No.” He murmured. “I’m not going to beg you.”

You rocked your hips down in a gentle movement, running your warm, slick core along his throbbing hardness and he moaned.

He moaned.

“Fuck- You’re so-“

“Come on.” You whispered as you teasingly rubbed yourself against his tip. “No one’s here. Just you and me. You’re the man.” You leaned down and kissed the spot below his ear, causing him to moan again. “You’re the man.” You repeated softly. “You’re in charge. You’re my everything.”

“Damn right I am.” He groaned out.

“My whole world.” You breathed out and pressed yourself against him again, which caused him to throb even more.

“Please.” He finally breathed out, barely loud enough to be audible.

You closed your eyes and lowered yourself down enough for his tip to be pressed against your entrance.

“What?” You whispered breathlessly.

He bit his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “Fucking hell.” He grumbled. “Please. Please. Don’t be a fucking demon. I taught you everything you know.” He swallowed and bit the inside of his cheek. His forehead and his eye brows twitched in a way that showed off his internal struggle, his anger, his desperate need for control.

And you didn’t want him to feel like that.

Never.

So you breathed out a gentle “Thank you”, before you slowly pressed yourself down against him, letting him enter you carefully. He closed his eyes shut and moaned again.

“I fucking hate you, you know that?”

“Oh, I hate you far more.” You whispered and slowly kissed a path along his neck. You ground your hips down against his, causing him to let out a ragged moan.

“Fucking devil.” He groaned.

“I’m yours.” You buried your face in his neck and began to ride him slowly, sensually. Gently. But deeply.

He moaned and moaned, the sound making blood rush to your head. “Again.”

“I’m yours. Only yours. I’m…your…”

His release exploded over him like a wildfire, because you felt the way he gripped your hips painfully and held you down against him. You felt the way he came deep inside you, filling you with the promise of being his, being his forever.

“God, I- I-“ He moaned again and ran his hands up your back, causing you to shiver while he rode out his release. You had never seen him like this, so lost in his pleasure that nothing else existed.

It took him a full minute to catch his breath and regain the ability to open his eyes and look at you. The look on his face was nothing short of reverence.

“I love you.” He whispered.

His words surprised you. So far he hadn’t been able to say it without some kind of trigger, without some greater power than his own mind. But now he said it and you knew he meant it.

“I love you more.” You breathed out.

He scoffed breathlessly. “Impossible.”

You smiled exhaustedly and rested your chin on his chest. You loved the feeling of having him inside you until your bodies decided it was time to disconnect. That always took a few minutes.

“Totally not impossible.”

“Absolutely impossible.” He murmured. “I painted the fucking walls apricot for you.”

Your eyes widened and your lips twitched into an incredulous smile. “You did what?”

He smirked and averted his gaze. “Yeah. That’s the most remarkable thing I’ve done for you so far.” He murmured sarcastically.

That made you laugh. “Shut up, you know what I-“

There was a sound that interrupted you. At first you couldn’t tell what it was for it was so unfamiliar. But then you suddenly understood. The doorbell.

His doorbell.

He frowned, obviously equally confused. No one had had tried to visit him so far. He was a ghost. There was no fucking name on his mailbox. Who would possibly-

The thought of it being an ex-girlfriend of his suddenly sent a fresh wave of nausea down your body. You stared at him with a frown and he raised his brows in curiosity. But instead of asking you, he could probably tell what you were thinking. So, he did something else instead. He fumbled for his shirt, which he barely reached across the floor and pulled out the chip.

“Here. Go get it.”

Your brows shot up comically. “What? Me?”

A test. It had to be. A last test.

“Yes. Go on. I trust you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you took the chip with shaky fingers. Really? He trusted you?

Trusted you with the key?

You stared down at it and then back at his face. It meant so much to you.

“Are you sure?”

He smiled slowly and pulled you down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, you silly girl. Go.”

A minute later you had wrapped yourself back into your dress and slowly made your way towards the door. You were already about to press the buzzer, to let whoever it was into the building.

Who could it be? Most likely some housekeeper service again. The thought of the janitor still made your stomach churn, but you pushed it down for now. You had never even asked what he did to the body. The truth was you actually didn’t want to know.

You were about to press the button, when you heard something. Someone cleared their throat. Your eyes widened when you realized that whoever it was, stood right in front of the door.

Your paranoid self didn’t trust people easily, especially after the last person you trusted abducted you – no matter the final outcome.

You decided to give a brief look through the peephole before you opened it. You most likely wouldn’t know the person anyway, but your inner child wanted to be sure it wasn’t an axe murderer.

So, you stood on your tiptoes and glanced outside only for your eyes to settle on…

You stumbled backwards as if you’d been struck. The nausea you had felt all day suddenly seemed to have a reason and you immediately felt incredibly sick.

Thank God you stumbled into him, because you suddenly felt like you couldn’t hold yourself upright.

“Hey.” He gently held you in his arms and frowned down at you in concern. “What is it? Who was it?”

“That guy.” You gasped out. “The one who asked me for directions.”

His expression immediately darkened. “What?”

You nodded quickly. “It’s the same guy. I’m sure.”

His frown deepened and his lip twitched again, not in amusement, but lust for murder.

He gently pushed you behind him, before he took a step closer himself and looked outside as well. For a short moment he didn’t seem too alarmed. It was odd, yes, he had probably followed you. A freak, a stalker. Not of the good kind.

But then he suddenly stiffened. And you knew something was wrong.

“What-“

He grabbed you with a bruising grip and dragged you along until you reached your bedroom. You gasped when he ushered you inside and pushed you into the closet with renewed ferocity.

“What-“

“Stay in here.” He hissed. “Don’t you dare come out until I tell you to.”

He slammed the door shut and you slumped against the wall. Your legs felt like jelly and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. There was a ringing sound in your ears, loud enough to almost make you go deaf.

You buried your hands in your hair and stared at the spot in the darkness where he had been only a second ago.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus. Voices. You heard voices.

Quiet at first. And suddenly louder.

Tears stung your eyes and you pressed a hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any sounds.

It wasn’t all that-

A loud crash made you flinch so hard, you immediately got a headache.

And then the dizziness came back. The darkness around you felt like a rollercoaster and you slowly sunk down to your knees, while you tried to breathe calmly.

In and out. In. And out.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What could it have been about it that he panicked? That he felt he had to lock you back in here?

By the time the door finally opened – you couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours – everything was messy cloud of loud, bloodied frenzy.

The blood. The blood. So much blood.

He spoke and spoke, but he was too far away. His voice wasn’t real, his twitching eyes weren’t.

His words weren’t. Oh God. Oh no.

Oh God, mother.

And then everything went black.

_____________________________

Tag list 1:@mitsuki-dreamfree@kpopsmutty69@heroine-chique@vkeyy@mizuwki@blu-brrys@z0mbi345@yourpointbreak@ayieayee@freddyzeppsworld@lola11111111@indifitel6661@salesmanlover08@laurenbenoit70@lalalaa2210@lila-marshal@auspicious-lilana@0-aubrie0@lovelyaegyo@theredvelvetbitch@violentbluess@muriels-lover@dorayakissu@eviebuggg@muchwita@ririgy@strxlemon@obsessedwthdilfs@kiwilov3@misty-q

Author's note: GUYS WTF My brain is made of pudding right now, so please forgive me if I made any mistakes or talked shit at some point :(

I'm sorry that it took me so long!!! I had NO idea how to start this chapter, but now I finally made it. I started this at around ten in the morning and now it's ten pm omg. With breaks of course!

I'll try to mention every request/suggestion, if I forget something, please let me know!!!

Also, the requests that didn't/won't make it into the story, I'm planning a sequel and probably a few oneshots concering these two!

@sleepingkittiesworld : her riding him

Anon : her being sick and him caring about her

Anon : the choking during smut

Anon : dinner date outside / another Anon : him taking her to a place she likes (in this case Italian food)

@tommydarlings : innocently taking a bath together

A few people had similar or different suggestions about him getting jealous, so I'll just sum that up under jealousy: @dilfismz , @kidswhoneedhugs , @c3ce , @moondustfairies

Thanks to @babyscilence for "Did he paint the walls apricot for her?" that stuck with me so bad because that JUST MAKES SENSE

Going out in general : @hayakamis-blog , @mswannadiesworld

Going out and getting lost in a crowd : @ririgy

I hope these were all, if I forgot someone, please let me know!

Also great thanks to each and everyone of you! Sometimes I find myself wanting to thank someone in particular for being cute or being a great motivation/inspiration, but somehow, that's all of you!!! I love you, guys!

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ be my valentine? ♡ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆First Years x gn! reader

𓏵 729 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcannons, no pronouns used, fluff, a bit ooc(?)

Second Years and Third Years coming up next! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

I think Ace would pretend he doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day, but he actually thinks about it way more than he lets on. He’s the type to act like he totally forgot, just to see your reaction, only to pull out a small but thoughtful gift at the last second.

Ace likes to tease and play it cool, but deep down, he actually gets a little nervous. He doesn’t want to make it too obvious how much he cares, but if you show genuine happiness over his gift, he’ll get all smug about it—though his ears might turn a little red.

"Hah? You really thought I forgot? Please, I always come through! Here, take it. It’s not a big deal or anything, just a little something I threw together... H-Hey! Don’t look at me like that! Ugh, you’re making me blush or something!"

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I think Deuce would take Valentine’s Day way too seriously. He’d spend weeks planning, overthinking every detail because he wants to impress you. He probably buys a classic box of chocolates but then panics because he feels like it’s not enough. So, he adds more—a handwritten note, maybe even a little charm or trinket he thought you’d like.

Deuce likes to be upfront, but when it comes to romance, he gets so flustered. He stumbles over his words, gets embarrassed over small things, and is a total mess when handing you the gift. If you thank him sincerely, he might turn bright red and awkwardly try to downplay it.

"U-Uh! Here! I mean—um—I got you something! Wait, I’m saying this all wrong—ahem—I just thought, y’know, since today’s special, I should get you something nice. Uh. Do you… like it?"

─────────────────────────

I think Jack would pretend he doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day, but he totally does. He doesn’t like all the flashy, romantic gestures, but he does want to do something special for you. His way of showing affection would be through actions—like carrying your things, helping you with a task, or offering you a snack from the cafeteria.

Jack likes to act tough, but when it comes to romance, he’s a total tsundere. He’ll say it’s not a big deal, but his tail betrays him by wagging slightly when you accept his gift. If you call him out on it, he’ll get so flustered and grumble about how you’re "imagining things."

“Here. It’s from my hometown. Don’t think too much about it—I just figured you’d like it. …What? Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not blushing. You’re imagining things. Seriously, quit laughing.”

─────────────────────────

I think Epel would want to be smooth and romantic, but he struggles to pull it off. He tries to write a love letter? Ends up crumpling it up because it sounds too cheesy. He thinks about giving you roses? Freaks out because it feels too formal. In the end, he sticks to what he knows and gives you something handmade—like an apple-based treat from his hometown.

Epel likes to play it cool, but if you compliment his gift, his accent slips out, and he turns into a flustered mess. He wants to be the cool and mysterious type, but deep down, he’s just a sweet farm boy who cares about you a lot.

"Here. I made this myself. And before ya start teasin’ me, I was not thinkin’ too hard about it! …D’aww, quit smilin’ at me like that! Yer makin’ me feel all soft ‘n stuff."

─────────────────────────

I think Sebek would treat Valentine’s Day like a sacred ritual. He’d act like he’s doing you a great honor by acknowledging this "human tradition," but truthfully? He spent hours making sure his confession was perfect. He’d go way too formal with it, talking like he’s making a grand proclamation, only to panic if you tease him even slightly.

Sebek likes to be loud and dramatic, but when he’s truly flustered, he does not know how to handle it. If you thank him sweetly or call him cute, expect him to go completely red and start sputtering about how he is "a knight of unwavering resolve" (while avoiding eye contact).

"Human! You should consider yourself fortunate to receive my affections on this day of sentimentality! I—WAIT, STOP SMILING LIKE THAT! I AM BEING COMPLETELY SERIOUS! H-Hey! D-Do not pat my head!! I am not blushing!!"

[kiwriteswords]

Trope Tuesday marriage/relationship of convenience then actually catching feelings 😁

I guess you're just what I needed [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 3k|| AN: Oh my gosh, I am obsessed with how this turned out. I want to make this a series of one-shots! Let me know if anyone is interested in seeing more!!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, marriage of convenience, contracted marriage, canon-typical themes, flirty!reader, bold!reader, non-bau!reader, stressed!hotch

Summary: You're a high-profile political figure's daughter in immediate danger. The only solution is to place you in protective custody of the BAU. Your family's only catch? You have to marry the man who's at the head of it all: Aaron Hotchner.

Aaron Hotchner adjusted his tie as he approached Erin Strauss's office, a feeling of dread settling over him. It had been one of those weeks where everything seemed to pile on, and the last thing he needed was Strauss's particular brand of supervision. His mind was cluttered with the details of their latest case, not to mention the challenges of being a single father. Each step towards her office felt heavier than the last.

He knocked and entered without waiting for an invitation, finding not only Strauss but also the BAU Director and several serious-looking government officials seated around the conference table. The air was thick with tension, the kind that precedes a storm.

"Agent Hotchner, thank you for coming on such short notice," Strauss began, her tone more subdued than usual. "Please, have a seat."

Hotch's brow furrowed as he took in the array of faces. "What's this about?" he asked, his voice firm yet laced with fatigue.

The director spoke up, "A situation has developed that requires the BAU's unique expertise." He paused, glancing at a dossier before continuing, "A high-profile political figure’s daughter has been threatened by a radical group. The threats are credible and escalating. She needs to be put into protective custody immediately."

Hotch nodded, processing the information. "Understood. We can coordinate with the Protection Detail and provide a psychological profile on the threats. What specifics do we have on the group responsible?"

It was Strauss who replied, her expression unusually grave. "There's more, Aaron." She hesitated, her discomfort palpable. "The situation...it has an unusual stipulation."

Hotch's patience was waning. "What stipulation?"

The room felt colder, the tension thicker. "The terms of the protective custody dictate that she must be married to an agent from her protective detail. It’s a condition set by her family to ensure her security, given the cultural context and her status," Strauss disclosed, her eyes not quite meeting his.

"And you’re telling me that--" Hotch's voice trailed off, already piecing together the unsaid words.

"Yes," the director interjected. "The family has requested, specifically, that you be the agent to marry her. They trust your reputation and record. It’s non-negotiable if we want their cooperation."

Hotch sat back, his mind racing, yet outwardly composed. "You want me to marry someone as a part of her protective detail?" he clarified, his tone incredulous yet calm. The lawyer gears began turning in his head. He’d been divorced once to a woman, who, despite the love he had and would always have for her, caused him a bit of a legal headache and a pile of bills. The idea of marrying someone--marrying for the sake of protecting her? It seemed pretty absurd to him. 

Strauss nodded, "I know it sounds unprecedented, but given the political sensitivity and the potential international implications, we've been cornered into agreeing. You are, of course, our best negotiator and profiler. This isn’t about marriage in the traditional sense, but a strategic move to safeguard her life."

The weight of the room's gaze felt heavy on Hotch. He understood duty, the sacrifices it entailed, but this was beyond anything he'd anticipated. His thoughts flickered to Jack, to the remnants of a life he tried to keep normal.

"Give me 24 hours to think about it," Hotch finally said, standing up. The meeting concluded with nods of agreement, though the unspoken pressures lingered like a thick fog.

Aaron Hotchner had barely risen from his chair when the Director’s firm voice stopped him. “Agent Hotchner, I need to be clear--this isn’t a request. It’s an order, and we don’t have the luxury of 24 hours.”

Hotch paused, the chair’s back providing a brief physical support against the shock. “An order,” he echoed, his tone a blend of disbelief and resignation.

“Yes,” Strauss added, her voice softer, yet firm. “We understand the personal magnitude of this, but you are uniquely qualified for this role, Aaron. The political figure’s family has specifically asked for you by name, trusting your capabilities and integrity. This isn’t just about protection--it’s about ensuring an international alliance. They believe their daughter will only agree to the terms of protective custody if it involves someone of your stature and reliability.”

The government officials nodded in agreement, their faces etched with the severity of the situation. “Agent Hotchner, we wouldn’t impose this on you if there were any other way,” one of them added.

Hotch stood motionless, his mind racing through every protocol and moral guideline he had followed in his career. Marrying someone under these circumstances was unprecedented, yet the alternative might leave a young woman's life in peril.

“How long is this arrangement expected to last?” Hotch asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“Until the threat is neutralized,” the BAU Director responded. “It could be weeks, possibly months. You will live together, and she will be integrated into your life as necessary to maintain the facade.”

“And my son?” Hotch’s voice finally betrayed a hint of personal concern.

“We’ll provide support,” Strauss assured quickly. “Jack’s well-being will be a priority, and we’ll make sure this impacts him as little as possible.”

The room was silent for a moment as Hotch processed the enormity of the commitment being forced upon him. Finally, he nodded slowly. “I’ll do it,” he said, the weight of his words heavy in the air. “I’ll need complete access to all information regarding the threats and constant updates. I’m doing this under protest, for the record. This is against my better judgment, but I won’t let her be harmed because we didn’t act.”

“Thank you, Aaron,” Strauss said, a hint of relief in her voice. “We’ll support you every step of the way.”

As he left the office, Aaron Hotchner felt the familiar surge of duty that always guided him. Yet, this time, it was mingled with an acute sense of stepping into the unknown, not just as a protector but as a man compelled into an extraordinary role that blurred the lines between his personal ethics and professional obligations. The challenge was immense, but so was the responsibility. With a deep breath, he prepared to meet the young woman who would soon be his wife in name, bound together in a pretense woven from necessity and strategy.

Hotch’s stride was more clipped than usual as he re-entered the bullpen of the BAU. The tension radiating from him was palpable, setting the team on edge as they watched their normally composed Unit Chief move with uncharacteristic urgency.

The team members were dispersed around the room, some by the coffee machine, others at their desks sifting through paperwork. However, the atmosphere shifted noticeably as they caught sight of Hotch’s stern expression.

“Conference room, now,” Hotch barked, louder and with more edge than intended. His voice cut through the usual hum of activity, leaving a trail of surprised and concerned looks among the team members.

They all knew the tone, and the look – something big was underway. As they gathered their materials, they exchanged glances, piecing together their questions and concerns.

Once in the conference room, Hotch stood at the head of the table, his hands pressed flat against the surface, his eyes scanning the room to ensure he had everyone's attention. The team settled quickly, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

“I’ve just come from a meeting with Strauss and some very high-level officials. We’re being tasked with a highly sensitive and unusual case,” Hotch began, his voice steady but his underlying tension unmistakable.

He paused, considering his next words carefully. “A political figure’s daughter has been threatened by a radical group. The threats are serious and imminent. She’s been targeted, and we need to protect her.”

Murmurs of concern and nods of understanding passed around the room. It was the kind of scenario they were trained for, yet there was more.

“There’s a complication,” Hotch continued, his jaw tightening. “For reasons of her family’s cultural and political significance, she must be married to someone on her protective detail. They believe this will provide an additional layer of security and compliance.”

He let that sink in, watching the team digest the information. But the biggest shock was yet to come.

“And...” he hesitated, the next part harder to disclose, “they’ve designated that I will be the one to marry her.”

The room went still, the team staring in disbelief. Garcia’s mouth fell open, Rossi raised an eyebrow, and Prentiss frowned, her mind racing through the implications.

“This isn’t a request; it’s an order,” Hotch added quickly, anticipating their questions. “I need your support on this. We need to integrate her into our operations without disrupting our ongoing cases. She arrives tomorrow, and we need to be ready.”

Reid’s brow furrowed in thought. “How long is this arrangement expected to last?” he asked, the scientist in him seeking parameters.

“Until the threat is neutralized. It could be weeks, could be months. We don’t know yet,” Hotch replied, his tone final.

Morgan leaned back, his arms crossed. “Man, Hotch, this is... this is a lot. But we’ve got your back. We’ll make it work.”

Garcia finally spoke up, her voice a mixture of concern and determination. “Do we know anything about her, sir? Anything at all that could help us make this as smooth as possible?”

Hotch nodded, appreciating the team's quick rally to the cause. “I’m receiving her files now. We’ll go through everything together. We need to cover all angles--background, known associates, and potential threats. Every detail matters.”

As the team began to discuss logistics and roles, Hotch felt a slight easing of the weight on his shoulders. This was his team, his family in arms, and if anyone could pull off this unprecedented situation, it was them. Together, they would navigate the choppy waters of what was undoubtedly one of the most bizarre assignments of their careers.

In the days following the unusual directive, Hotch found himself delving deep into the complexities of his new assignment. Files and reports about the political figure's daughter filled his office--details about your life, your social circles, and the nature of the threats against you. The gravity of the situation was clear, and the added pressure of an arranged marriage only compounded the stress.

Explaining the situation to Jack was challenging. Hotch took care to frame the conversation in a way that his son could understand, emphasizing the importance of helping someone in need. "We're going to have a guest staying with us for a little while," he explained gently. "She's in a bit of trouble and needs friends to keep her safe." Jack, ever the understanding child, nodded and asked if you liked video games.

If only we could always be this simple. 

Meanwhile, the BAU team rallied around their leader, holding extensive debriefings to strategize the best way to integrate you into their operations without compromising their effectiveness on other cases. Garcia dug into digital backgrounds, Reid analyzed behavioral patterns, Morgan reviewed security protocols, and Prentiss coordinated with local law enforcement agencies. The team also made a point of checking in on Hotch frequently, offering both professional support and personal encouragement, understanding the emotional toll the situation might be taking on him.

Erin Strauss surprisingly became a pillar of support during this time. Her usual stern demeanor gave way to a more compassionate and cooperative approach. She facilitated necessary clearances and liaised with the government officials involved, smoothing over some of the bureaucratic hurdles that initially seemed insurmountable. 

Hotch knew this was out of Strauss’s hands. He knew that. He was rational enough not to blame her; there was nobody to blame here. 

However, the involvement of extra hands from various government bodies proved to be a double-edged sword. While it meant additional resources were at their disposal, it also led to bottlenecks. Decisions that should have been straightforward were bogged down by red tape and the conflicting agendas of different agencies. The BAU found themselves navigating not only the logistics of protective custody but also the complexities of inter-agency cooperation.

The decision was made for the BAU to continue taking cases as usual, with Hotch working remotely when necessary. This arrangement was meant to maintain normalcy and effectiveness in their ongoing investigations while also ensuring the safety and integration of his soon-to-arrive 'wife'. It was a balancing act that required meticulous planning and flexibility from the entire team.

As the day approached for you to arrive, the atmosphere at the BAU was one of cautious anticipation. Hotch, in particular, was a study in stoicism, his face giving away little of the internal conflict he felt about the impending marriage of convenience. Yet, he was determined to fulfill his duty, trusting his team to back him up every step of the way.

Penelope Garcia, ever the heart of the BAU team, approached Hotch’s office with her usual mix of exuberance and empathy. She had a file in hand, which was not unusual, but the gleam in her eye suggested she had more than just paperwork for Hotch. She knocked lightly on the open door, catching Hotch’s attention as he was buried in a pile of case files and paperwork.

He didn’t help but notice Penelope’s eyes drift to the marriage certificate sitting at the top of the files on his desk. The ink barely dry. 

“Hey, Hotch, got a minute?” Penelope asked, her voice carrying a hint of excitement.

Hotch looked up, managing a small nod. “What is it, Garcia?”

Penelope entered her colorful attire a stark contrast to the somber tones of Hotch’s office. She walked up to his desk with a slight bounce in her step. “I know you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders right now, and I’m not here to add to that. Actually, I hope this might lighten things up, even if just a smidge.”

She handed him a file, which was open to reveal a photograph. “I couldn’t help myself; I had to look her up. And, Hotch, she is beautiful.” Penelope pointed at the picture with a flourish.

Hotch took the photograph, his expression softening slightly as he looked at the image of the you, who would soon be playing a significant role in his life. In the photograph, you had a poised, elegant demeanor, your eyes reflecting intelligence and perhaps a hint of the burden you, too, must be feeling about their forthcoming arrangement.

He had thought so much about how much this would change his life. He couldn’t imagine a young woman like you, what you might be feeling. 

Penelope leaned over the desk, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “At least when you’re pretending to be madly in love, it won’t be hard on the eyes, huh?”

Hotch couldn’t help but let out a small, rare chuckle. “Garcia, you always know how to make light of a situation.”

“I do my best,” Penelope replied with a grin. “But seriously, Hotch, we’ve got your back, and we’re going to make sure you two are as safe as houses. Plus, I’ll be just a call away if you need to vent or if you need a quick exit strategy from any awkward ‘married couple’ moments.”

“Thank you, Garcia,” Hotch said, his tone sincere. “That means a lot.”

Penelope nodded, her expression turning more serious. “We’re here for you, Hotch. All of us. This...situation is far from ideal, but if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

With a reassuring pat on Hotch’s shoulder, Penelope left the office, leaving Hotch with the photograph still in his hands. He studied it for a moment longer, a myriad of thoughts crossing his mind about the surreal situation he was about to enter. Despite the oddity of it all, knowing he had the support of his team made it all seem just a little more manageable.

You arrived at the BAU under the weight of both expectation and apprehension. Despite the stress, your posture remained confident; your chin held high as you navigated the final steps toward a strange new chapter of your life. The officials accompanying you fussed over your every step, attempting to smooth your path, but you quickly tired of their coddling.

"Really, I can walk by myself," you snapped lightly, irritation lining your tone as you gently shrugged off an overly attentive hand from one of the aides. Your voice carried across the room, catching the attention of the BAU team assembled to meet you.

They watched with a mixture of curiosity and admiration as you handled the situation with a blend of authority and annoyance. When Erin Strauss stepped forward to formally make introductions, the tension in the air was palpable, but your presence brought a dynamic shift.

"And this is Agent Hotchner, your...husband," Strauss said, her voice tinged with a professionalism that didn’t quite mask her discomfort with the situation.

Hotch stepped forward, his usual stoic facade in place, but internally, he's taken aback by your beauty and the sharp wit he had just witnessed. He extended his hand for a handshake, the standard formal greeting he offerred everyone.

You smiled, a spark of mischief in your eyes, and instead of taking his hand, you stepped into a warm, embracing hug. "If he's going to be my husband, we better get used to this," you declared, your voice loud enough for the nearby team members to hear. Your words were bold, but your tone was light, trying to infuse warmth into the moment's awkwardness.

Hotch stiffened slightly, unaccustomed to such open displays of affection, especially under the watchful eyes of his team and superiors. Yet, he managed a small pat on your back, an awkward yet sincere gesture. "I suppose we should," he responded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, appreciating your effort to lighten the mood.

The team observed this interaction with a mix of surprise and amusement. Garcia could barely contain a delighted giggle while Morgan raised an eyebrow to approve of your forthright manner. Reid studied you with interest, perhaps already trying to psychoanalyze your dynamics, and Prentiss offered a supportive nod, sensing the strength you'll need to navigate the coming days.

Strauss cleared her throat, concluding the conversation. "Well, I'll leave you to get acquainted. Agent Hotchner, perhaps you can give her a tour of the facility."

As you and Hotch walked away, your side slightly brushing against his, the team exchanged looks and whispers, their expressions a blend of shock and amusement. Hotch, for his part, was silently preparing himself for the challenging yet intriguing partnership that lay ahead. Your boldness and affectionate nature promised to make this arrangement anything but dull.

Through the labyrinthine halls of Quantico, away from the curious and watchful eyes of the team, the reality of your new life together began to sink in. Glancing sideways at him, you decide to cut through the impending awkwardness. "Let's skip the small talk until we're playing house, shall we?" you suggested, your tone light while edged with a hint of resolve.

Hotch smirked--a subtle, almost imperceptible upturn of his lips--acknowledging the practicality of your suggestion. "I suppose that makes sense," he agreed, appreciating your straightforwardness.

Emboldened by his reaction, you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. "And for the record, I'm glad the rumors about your looks weren't exaggerated. You're quite the topic at political galas, you know," you added, a playful twinkle in your eye.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback by your forwardness yet intrigued by your ability to disarm him. He quickly decided to steer the conversation towards more practical matters, perhaps to maintain some semblance of control over the rapidly evolving situation. "Well, if there’s anything specific you need to make your stay at my apartment more comfortable--especially since you’ll be living with Jack and me--please don’t hesitate to let me know."

You nodded, your demeanor reflecting both confidence and comfort with direct communication. "Oh, don’t worry, I’m not shy about voicing my needs. You’ll learn soon enough," you responded with a hint of humor and a certain look in your eyes, indicating that while you understood the gravity of the situation, you weren’t about to lose your own identity in it.

Hotch allowed himself a moment to study you--a partner not just in a protective detail but now in a life he never anticipated. Your assurance and clarity provide him with a strange sense of relief. It was clear you were not one to mince words, and in the peculiar, winding journey ahead, that was perhaps exactly what he needed.

[mulloey]

hundred bands

student loans, a sugar daddy website, and johnny suh. three things you never thought would find you in quite this way.

part of my february festival

join my taglist

words: 8.4k

warnings: bdsm dynamics - dom!johnny x sub!reader, degradation, slight humiliation, discussion of pet play & master/slave play, slight corruption, titles (daddy/sir), paddling, face slapping, subspace, brief moment of insecurity, face fucking etc

—

You wonder if this is how it usually starts; a broke college student, an overeager friend and a last resort.

It’s not like you wanted or planned this; your final year of university and your tuition fees were piling up by the hour; your loan had already run out and all your applications for more money had been shot down about as delicately as a war plane. You’re pretty certain you’re on the loan office’s blocked callers list now.

It was your friend’s suggestion. You already knew she had a sugar daddy—a man named Mark who she never let you meet and seemed way too young to be doing this but, based on the flashy clothes she’d started wearing recently, clearly had enough money for it. And contrary to your expectations of sugaring as she called it, he actually seemed very nice; she was constantly gushing about how well he treated her and he appeared extremely respectful and affectionate towards her on the phone calls you’d been privy to. So fuck it, you thought, and you signed up for the website she’d given you as soon as you were drunk enough to bring yourself to do it.

While this was undoubtedly a sex-focused service, she’d emphasised to you the classy nature of the site; no lewd usernames, no nude pictures of any kind; just a clothed photo that showed your figure, basic information about you, and the type of arrangement you were looking for.

PLEASE SELECT ONE:

Sugar daddy/sugar baby

Straight/gay/bisexual

Top/bottom/vers

Dominant/submissive/switch/vanilla

Your blush ran deeper as you made your way down the list, arranging yourself into categories that felt a little like being sold at auction. Sugar baby. Straight. Bottom.

At the final question, you hesitated—you thought about putting ‘vanilla’, a little afraid of what these rich, anonymous men might expect to be able to pay for, but the words of your best friend rang out in your head. “Be honest with what you want,” she’d told you. “Just because you’re doing this for money doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get any fun from it.”

She was right, as usual. If you were going to get fucked for money, then you at least deserved to fucked well; even so, you had to close your eyes in shame as you clicked the little box titled ‘submissive’. That was a side of you that had only ever existed in your fantasies.

The rest of your profile was simple; you almost backed out when they asked for your ID, not wanting to give yourself away, but visions of loan sharks and withheld diplomas squashed those doubts pretty quickly—you were going to do this. You were going to get some rich man to pay your tuition, and that was the end of it. You had no other choice.

To be fair to the site, it was pretty well and, considering what it was for, non-pervertedly designed. You were matched with partners based on your preferences, but no one could message you until you’d liked their profile. You spent a few minutes clicking through the profiles, haphazardly liking or disliking as you felt like it, until one made you pause.

The picture was of a man in a suit, cropped at the neck to conceal his identity; but you didn’t really need to see his face to know that this man… well. He was certainly an option. Just from that one picture, taken from below, sleeves rolled up and linen straining against his chest, you felt authority emanating through the screen. Yeah, this could work very well.

You clicked nervously on his profile, hoping not to find anything crazy or gross in his bio to turn you off of him, but it was, well. Normal. For this place at least.

Sugar daddy. Straight. Top. Dominant. A good start—perfectly aligned with you.

From his bio you found out he was almost 30–a decent bit older than you but not over the line; he worked in the entertainment industry, and he valued discretion. Likewise, you thought.

You clicked like without a much more consideration.

The message came through an hour later, just as you were sitting down for dinner; you couldn’t help but grin when you got the notification, opening it nervously.

Hey. Hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but you’re nearby and I’d be interested in getting to know you. Would that be ok?

At first you were a little taken aback by how… polite the message was. How normal. Given the nature of the site you were half-expecting something perverted and disturbing, but this man was taking you by surprise already.

You typed your reply with your bottom lip held painfully between your teeth.

Hi :) that sounds great! I’m free next weekend if you are?

Great. Saturday evening? I’ll take you for dinner, if you like?

Perfect.

The nine days between then and your first meeting pass surprisingly quickly; you keep in regular contact with your faceless friend, you both having agreed to keep things anonymous for now, and though neither of you dance around the reason you’re both here, you find it easy to have normal, friendly conversations with him too. You tell him about your degree, and he gives you small details about his life and work—a singer, he says. He offers nothing more and you don’t press; from the way he talks about it you get the sense he may be some level of well-known, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’ll find out who he is on Saturday anyway.

On Monday night, just as you’re finishing up an assignment, your phone lights up with a new notification. You have his KakaoTalk now; it’s easier and more inconspicuous than the site and feels a lot less intimidating. The cartoon kitten on his profile picture makes you giggle as you open the message.

Now that we know each other a little better, would you be down to talk more about what our arrangement would look like, if it went ahead?

Yeah, of course. What are you thinking?

Can I call you?

Your stomach tightens and your palms tense nervously; you’ve called him before, but as you quickly found out, his voice makes it very difficult to concentrate on what he’s actually saying. You’re not exactly sure why; maybe it’s the deep, masculine lilt to it, but it sets your nerves on edge—still, you imagine this would be a better conversation to have on the phone, so you type your agreement with shaking hands.

Almost instantly the call comes through; “Hello?” You say softly.

“Hey, honey.” His voice is warm and familiar but still intimidating and the pet name he’s been using the past few days doesn’t make it any easier to keep a clear head. “How you feeling?”

“M’ good,” you mumble and he chuckles softly.

”Great. Well, I suppose we’ll just jump into it, yeah?” You make a noise of agreement and he continues. “Your profile said you’re a submissive. Can you tell me a little about that?”

You blank a little, already feeling out of your depth. You never thought this was a conversation you’d be having with someone, let alone a near stranger. “About that?” you echo. “Like, in what regard?”

“Well, do you have experience in that area?” His voice has a slightly deeper edge now; it’s focused and a little stern—clearly this is something he takes extremely seriously. “Have you submitted to someone before?”

“Um.” Your mind flashes with images of your previous partners; the varying experiences you’d had them but none of it seems to fit what you feel like he’s asking. “Not really.”

He hums. “So, if I had to guess,” he says, “you’ve been choked a few times, maybe spanked a little bit, and I’m assuming at least one of your partners wanted you to call him daddy?”

You can’t help but flush; that’s… exactly accurate. “Yeah,” you mumble. “How’d you know?”

“When people say ‘not really’, that’s usually what they mean.” You hear the smile in his voice and you wonder how many people he’s had this conversation with. You also wonder why the thought makes you a little bit jealous.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I assume you’ve gathered by now that I’m looking for more than that?”

Your stomach turns and you nod; it’s silent for a moment until you realise he can’t actually see you and you mumble a reply, embarrassed.

He laughs a little, seeming to realise what you’ve done before continuing. “There’s a lot I want to do with you, but I’m not going to dump it on you all at once, so we’ll start with what you’ve done already, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You said you’ve been choked,” he said. “So you’re comfortable having things on your neck.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’d certainly choke you during sex, if you’re comfortable. But I might use my arms rather than my hands. And at some point, I’d like to put a collar on you. How does that sound?”

“Um.” Fucking fantastic, you want to say, but you’re too embarrassed and still determined to play it at least a little bit cool. “It sounds nice.”

“Good. The next thing we mentioned is spanking, correct?”

You know you’re blushing now, shifting uncomfortably in your seat and trying to relieve some of the pressure between your legs. Something about the way he speaks so calmly and professionally about these things is really doing it for you, apparently. “Yeah,” you breathe.

“If I had to make a guess on that, I’d say they slapped your ass a few times during sex. Maybe a little foreplay, too. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, again, I’d do that too, but it’d be more than that. If you become my sugar baby, you become my submissive as well, which means you’d submit to my rules and discipline. Ya follow?”

It’s not a massive shock; he’d mentioned BDSM before, and you weren’t surprised given his profile—but hearing it out loud, in that voice, is a different feeling. “Yeah, I follow,” you say. “So you’d punish me? How?”

“Well if we’re talking about spanking…” He pauses for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I’ll give you an example. Say you broke a rule, like if you talked back to me or I caught you touching yourself when I’d told you not to, then I’d put you over my knee, pull your panties down and spank you til I feel like you’re sorry. How does that sound?”

“Oh.” There’s an undeniable pressure in your stomach and you try not to let the arousal seep into your voice. “That’s… wow.”

“Is that good or bad?” He asks. He’s laughing, but he sounds cautious too. It makes you feel safe, the way he’s genuinely concerned about your feelings on this; it’s the bare minimum, sure, but you expected worse from that website.

“Good,” you breathe. “Really good.”

“Oh?” He’s teasing now; you practically see the grin on his face despite the fact you don’t actually know what that face looks like. “Does someone want to be spanked?”

“I think… yeah.”

“That’s good,” he laughs. “I bet you’ll look really cute kicking and squirming over my lap. Don’t you think?”

“Hopefully,” you mumble.

“I’m sure. And the last thing we mentioned. You’ve called someone daddy before, you said. Did you like it?”

“Yeah.” You answer quickly; you figure there’s no point in shame now.

“I see.” He pauses again. “I usually prefer sir, but I’m not opposed to daddy, either.”

“Oh.”

“Speaking of.” There’s a playfulness to his voice now; a teasing lilt that makes you bite back a laugh. “You should get to bed, young lady. Why are you even up?”

“Assignments,” you say. “And what’s your excuse, sir?”

You hear the sharp intake of breath through the phone; the soft, strangled sound that dies in his throat and you feel a twinge of satisfaction. Yeah. I can play this game too.

He clears his throat, releasing an exasperated sigh and there’s a rustling sound before he speaks, voice dipping slightly. “My excuse,” he says, “is that I’ve nowhere to be tomorrow. Unlike a certain little brat.”

The final word is drawn out, teasing and warning at the same time and your chest tightens in excitement and a million other things. You don’t even know what this guy looks like, but fuck, he’s so good. You want to push his buttons and obey his every word simultaneously.

“True,” you mumble. “Okay, I’ll sleep.”

“Good girl.” The satisfied smile is audible in his voice. “See you Saturday, pretty.”

—

This man is gorgeous.

That’s your first thought when you see him Saturday evening; he’s waiting for you when your car pulls up, calling your name with a smile and wrapping an arm around your waist as he helps you out. He introduces himself as Johnny, and his voice sounds even better in person.

Your second thought follows not long after; you recognise him. You’d figured by now that he was probably some level of famous, but you weren’t interested enough in the whole idol culture to have recognised him from his voice alone; in fact it’s only when he tells you his name that you finally place him. You wait until you’re seated, in a private room you’d rather not know the cost of, before asking.

“I don’t wanna be too weird,” you say, “but you’re an idol, right?”

He laughs, nodding with a soft smile. “I am. Do you know me?”

“I’ve heard of you,” you mumble; you’re not sure why you’re so embarrassed to know who he is—that’s the whole point of celebrities, after all. You chuckle dryly, trying to ease the weight of the awkwardness you feel in your chest. “I recognised your face but I couldn’t figure out where I knew you from til you told me your name.”

“Ah.” His posture is relaxed, tone jovial but you see a surety and intensity in his eyes that makes you cower instinctively. “Heard any of my music?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice that he’s teasing you again.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t know.” You shrug. “I mean, I’m not really into that stuff but like, I’m obviously gonna look you up when I’m home now.”

“I figured,” he laughs. “Shoot me a text once you’ve decided I’m your favourite.”

“If I decide that,” you say, and he laughs louder. You feel yourself relaxing a little; his open, friendly demeanour could make anyone ease up and you can’t help but feel comfortable in his presence. Only his dark eyes, which scarcely leave you but to call over the waiter and order, keep you on edge.

You don’t know what any of the words on the menu mean, so you let him order for you—he seems to like that; choosing for you, making small, simple decisions on your behalf. You see it on his face.

As it turns out he’s very good at choosing, too; the beef dish they bring out is something your friend had told you about, when you’d mentioned coming to this restaurant and she realised she’d been there with her own sugar daddy. It tastes amazing and the champagne that flows with it is even better.

“Food good?” He asks with a smile.

“Yeah,” you say. “Is yours?”

“Perfect,” he says. The weight of his gaze on you is unavoidable and you twirl the spaghetti around your fork nervously, just wanting something to do to avoid his eyes.

“So, um.” You clear your throat, trying to think of something to fill the silence but nothing comes. Johnny watches you with a small smirk; all-knowing.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says finally. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You hold back a laugh, biting your lip and he notices. “Well, I mean…”

“Yeah, okay, I am going to hurt you a bit.” He’s grinning, and you realise he chose his words intentionally; though whether to ease the tension or tighten it further you don’t know. “But I do want you to be comfortable with me.”

“Yeah. I am, I think.”

“Great. May I ask you something?”

You motion for him to speak and he smiles; you think you see the first hint of trepidation in his eyes before it quickly dims into the usual cool intensity.

“Obviously it hasn’t been long enough to make a firm decision,” he says, “but just so I have an idea, are you open to the idea of coming home with me tonight?”

You swallow; your stomach tightens at the proposition and the visions it provokes and your response is whispered like a scandalous secret. “Like… to play with you?”

“Yes,” he says. “It doesn’t have to mean the start of a dynamic, and we won’t have sex; just think of it as a taster session.”

That doesn’t seem so bad, you think. And he’s careful, not rushing you into a dynamic or even pressuring you at all; that’s a good sign, right? “So what— um. What would we do?”

“Depends on your behaviour.” He winks teasingly at you from behind the glass in his hand and your head is in overdrive with the images he’d given you on the phone a few days ago; of being choked and collared and spanked by those impossibly large hands resting so tantalisingly close to yours.

You clench your thighs, swallowing dryly. “Yeah. I’m… open to the idea.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

The evening passes surprisingly quickly; the tension in the air has all but dissipated, but for the subtle movements he makes every now and then just to see your reaction; a quirk of an eyebrow, a knowing smile, a perfectly timed touch that sends electricity rushing through your veins.

You know he’s toying with you, studying your natural responses to small hints of dominance so you react with similarly small, playful acts of submission in return; cowering under his gaze, bowing your head—allowing him the first taste of the control you may soon surrender completely to him.

“So,” he says, once the waiters have removed the last of your dessert plates. “Would you like to come home with me?”

—

Five million won lands in your bank account as you’re taking the elevator up to his apartment. You make a noise of shock, staring dumbfoundedly between him and the notification, but he says nothing; just smirks ever so slightly as he guides you out of the elevator with a hand on your lower back.

Johnny’s apartment is pretty much as you pictured it; everything a successful man on the cusp of his thirties would go for—black, white and grey themes, a large TV, low, atmospheric lighting and a stunning view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows that loom over you when you step inside. He removes your jacket for you, pausing to take in the outfit you’ve chosen once again before helping you remove your heels. He’s careful and gentlemanly, touches feather-light on your legs as he slides your shoes off. You’re not sure if the image of him on his knees in front of you like this contrasts or enhances the feeling of his dominance over you. You think it’s the latter, somehow.

When he stands up you see that without the few inches your heels provided you, he’s even more imposing—and in his own house, on his territory, you feel smaller than you ever have before.

“Come,” he smiles. He’s removed his suit jacket now, but the dress shirt, slacks and shoes are still on; the soles click against the floor as he guides you down the hallway by the hand.

You stop at the end of the hall, hovering outside a varnished wooden door. For a moment you stand there silently and his demeanour seems to shift a little; he stands a little taller and his face takes on a new solemnity as he looks you up and down. You feel like you’re being inspected, scrutinised; studied.

Your gaze flickers towards the door—is this where he does it? Where he… dominates people? Dominates you? Are you about to walk into a room full of whips and gags and contraptions you’ve never heard of?

“Hey.” Johnny’s voice is calm and soft and stops your spiraling in its tracks. His lips quirk in an amused smile. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not a red room.”

“Oh.” You don’t know why you’re so embarrassed—anyone would have assumed that, given the circumstances; still, you avert your eyes awkwardly, face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “I’m not offended. It's reasonable to assume I’d have one. But it’s just my bedroom, nothing too scary.”

“Oh. So you don’t… um.”

“I don’t have a red room?” You nod a little ashamedly and he chuckles. “No. I don’t need one. D’you know why?”

“Why?”

A large hand clasps around your wrist, making you shiver. “Because if we do this, you don’t submit to a room. You submit to me. Wherever we are, whenever I tell you to.”

You flush. “Oh.”

“Mhm.” His voice drops, veins bulging against his neck and he cuts a more and more intimidating figure by the second. You’re so ready.

”Do you remember the conversation we had about safewords?”

Of course you do; it was the first one you had once the pleasantries were over. “Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.”

He makes a noise of satisfaction and there’s a ghost of a proud smile on his lips. “Excellent.”

You watch as his hand grasps the door handle, pushing it down but not opening it. He pauses for a moment, gaze flickering back to you and you tense, nerves multiplying by the minute.

“Couple things you should know,” he says. His voice is calm and collected and it makes your head rush. “First thing. When you play with me, you’re on your knees, on the floor. You don’t stand or walk or do anything I do because we’re not on the same level here. Understand?”

Your stomach flips, arousal gathering in your chest and your voice is strained when you squeak out a pathetic “Yes.”

“Good,” he says. He’s smiling knowingly, all too aware of the effect he’s having on you. “Second thing. It’s ‘yes, Sir.’”

Then the door is pushed open, and within a few seconds two things become abundantly clear; first, Johnny is true to his words—you don’t manage a single step inside his bedroom before you find yourself forced to your knees, kneeling with your head bowed beneath the pressure of his hand on the back of your neck. He holds you firmly in position but there’s little force behind his grip; there doesn’t need to be. He told you early on that he has no interest in subduing you or compelling you to submit—you’ll submit to him because you want to, and he’ll give you everything you need in return.

The second thing that becomes clear is that when Johnny said he didn’t have a red room, that was only technically the truth—because sure, it’s not a strictly-sex-only room, and it’s not red, but there’s absolutely no mistaking what happens here.

A glass cabinet displays an intimidating selection of toys; whips and paddles and dildos and things you couldn’t even begin to guess the use for; a bar is fixed to a lower portion of the ceiling, and the ropes hanging from it tell you he doesn’t use it for pull-ups; but most noticeably and unavoidably, there’s a large dog’s cage filled with blankets and soft pillows sitting directly at the end of his bed.

He catches your gaze lingering on the cage and laughs softly; the hand on your neck travels up to rest in your hair, caressing you gently and you hold your head exactly where he left it despite your desire to nuzzle into his touch. You have something to prove today, after all.

“You like my cage?” You hear the grin in his voice, feather-light touches tickling against your skin.

“Is it… for humans, sir?” The size of it makes the answer obvious but you need to hear it from him; the confirmation that this is really as batshit and delightfully insane as it seems.

He hums, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. You feel his presence above you as he crouches down a little, voice dropping to just above a whisper. “It’s for very, very bad girls indeed,” he says. “But you’re not bad, are you, precious?”

“No, sir,” you mumble. “I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He stands back up, towering above you again before walking over to the bed. He takes a seat, staring at you for a moment before his he lifts his hand and beckons you towards him. “Come.”

You hesitate for a moment—are you really about to do this? Are you really going to crawl on your hands and knees towards this man whose face you’d never even seen before today?

Yeah. Apparently you are.

Your breathing stutters as you make the first movements; one hand in front of the other, then your leg, over and over until you’ve somehow made it, you’ve crawled across the room and settled on your knees at his feet. He looks elated.

For a moment, he says nothing; he stares you down with a calm, collected expression that screams control and you try desperately not to shrink under it. The first touch of his hand on your face is electric when he gently grips your jaw, stroking your skin with soft fingers. You feel—and are, to him at least—tiny.

“Sweet thing,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

You can’t help but mewl in response, every cell of your body reacting to him, nerves standing on their ends. It’s a completely new feeling and utterly overwhelming. You want it to last forever.

“Can I hit you, angel?” His voice is low, gentle, the opposite of the way his grip on you tightens with want.

You feel yourself throb, nodding dumbly. “Yes sir.”

He smiles for a moment before his face darkens; the impact of his palm against your cheek would be enough to knock you down were it not for his still firm grip on your jaw. You cry out at the sting, unable to stop yourself and he can’t help but smile. “So responsive,” he tuts. “I’m gonna love training you up.”

You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “I hope so, sir.”

“You know,” he says. “This is my favourite part of having a new sub. Figuring out what type they are.”

You pause. “Type, sir?”

He hums; a low, pleasing sound. “No two submissives are the same, but there are general categories you could fit most of them into. Some fit in all of them, in fact.”

“What are they?”

He tilts his head, eyes glinting and you see the way he settles further into his headspace, back straightening as he stares you down. Your lack of experience seems to do something to him—and that definitely does something to you.

“Well,” he says. He speaks slowly and carefully, every word chosen with thought. “You have your puppies. They like to be on their knees. They like to whine and bark. They like to hump.” His grip tightens on your chin, tilting your head upwards. His thumb pushes past your lips and into your mouth and you accept it greedily. “And if I told them to open their mouth for their master’s spit…” He parts your lips, pushing your mouth open; he hesitates for a moment, as though he’s waiting for you to object but you don’t; you just open wider. His lips twist into a smirk before you feel a wad of saliva land on your tongue. “They’d slack their jaw and swallow it like a good dog.”

He watches with a smile as you obey, letting the spit slide down your throat. Your head feels fuzzy and floaty and all the sensations in your body, from the feeling of the carpet against your shins to the arousal that twists painfully in your gut, feel distant and separate. The only thing that feels real and complete right now is Johnny.

“Seems you like pet play,” he chuckles. “I’ll have to get you some ears. A tail, too.” He strokes your cheek and you keen into his touch unconsciously. “Would you let me plug your ass with a little puppy tail, baby?”

“Yes sir.” The words are coming out on their own now, your body responding for you before your conscious can catch up. He smiles.

“You’d be a lovely kitten, too,” he says. “They’re not as much fun to play with as puppies, but they look oh so pretty in your lap. And sometimes it’s nice to have a pliant little thing that will let you use their holes without complaining.”

Oh, that does sound nice. You think you’d enjoy that sometimes, when you’re feeling softer and more fragile and just want to be cared for. And he’s so large and broad and warm that he’s practically custom made to have you in his lap. You’d fit perfectly and prettily and you sigh dreamily without realising. He laughs and you quickly regain yourself, blushing deeply.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumble. “Um. Were all your subs, like, pets?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve had a few slaves before as well,” he says. “They were lovely; obeyed me like it was second nature. Took all the pain and humiliation I inflicted on them and still wanted more. Almost made me rethink my policy on not drawing blood, but that’s not my sort of thing really; they took a whipping like nobody’s business though.”

You cower a little, gaze dropping downwards; this doesn’t seem like you. You’re more than happy to be hurt and humiliated by Johnny, but this just seems… too much. You’re not ready for that level of submission and you’re not even sure you want to be. You feel a faint pressure on your chest, a familiar feeling of having fallen short but you’re not sure why; you’re allowed to say no—when you signed up for the website you signed a contract which stated it explicitly, and Johnny himself has reiterated it to you multiple times. You don’t have to take everything he offers you and you don’t have to do or be or enjoy anything simply because he does.

So why does it feel like a shortcoming; like you’ve foundered and failed before you’ve ever started?

You’ve zoned out without realising, deep in thought; Johnny sees the gears turning in your head and clicks his tongue, nudging your jaw upwards again. His smile is warm and gentle when you finally meet his gaze and though his voice is still soft and patient, there’s a finality to it that wasn’t there before; a seriousness. “You don’t like the sound of that, that’s okay,” he assures you. “You should never, ever force yourself to do something just to please me, or to please anyone. Understand?”

“I understand, sir,” you whisper. The sternness in his voice tells you he’s not playing now; he needs you to know this and keep it with you.

“Good girl,” he praises. His voice lifts a little and you see the moment he changes tack, back to toying with you like he was before. “God, you’re pretty. I don’t think I could hurt a little thing like you that way even if you did want it.”

You whine without realising it; your mind is a complete fog now, control and awareness slipping away by the second but you manage to string the few words that come to you into a slow, stuttered sentence. “Are those, um… that’s all of it, sir?”

His laugh is fond and a little condescending, like you’ve said something adorably stupid. You feel warm. “Those are just some typical ones,” he says. “Ones I’ve played with before. You don’t have to assign yourself to any of them, it just helps me to see what you do and don’t like the sound of.“

“Right.”

“You seem to like being a puppy,” he continues. There’s a teasing edge to his voice and you hold back another whine. “I think you’d like being a kitten sometimes, too. Turning your brain off and just letting daddy use you, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Your body reacts of its own accord to the title; you shudder in his hold, slumping slightly as a soft moan escapes your lips and it makes him laugh softly, fondly. “You really like the whole daddy thing, huh?”

You nod, a little embarrassed—it’s not even that you’re particularly into it on your own, in fact you only called your ex that because he wanted you to. Sure, you enjoyed it and it certainly made him fuck you harder and deeper and better, but you’ve never explored it of your own volition. You’ve never felt the need to.

But something about the way it sounds so sweet and natural on Johnny’s lips, like he’s acknowledging a reality rather than acting out a fantasy, makes it all seem so right—and so exciting. He certainly suits the name; so big and so strong and in complete control of you. Yeah, you’re definitely going to need to try this out.

You see in his face that his own thoughts are similar; his eyes are fogged with arousal and there’s a thick tension in his neck as he swallows. “You definitely make it work.” His hand moves from your jaw to cup your cheek and he lets you nuzzle against it greedily, a smile twitching on his lips. “Cute. God, there’s so much I could do to you.”

“Do it,” you breathe. “Please, sir.”

“Such good manners,” he croons. “You need it so bad, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whine. You don’t even know what ‘it’ is, but you know he’s right; you’re desperate, feverish for it. For anything, as long as it comes from him.

“Ask me nicely,” he whispers. “Ask me for what you want, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

“You,” you say. “You, sir.”

In a moment of desperation—or stupidity, perhaps—you reach for him, hands curling into the material of his shirt and grazing against what feels like a full set of abs beneath it. Wrong move.

He lifts you by the hair, dragging you to your feet and throwing you over his knee. Your heart pounds with expectation but he doesn’t hit you as you expect him to; instead he flips you over so you’re lying on your back, head resting on the sheets; your hair falls prettily around your face and you make the perfect picture of innocence. You want him to ruin it.

The feeling of his hand on your throat is electric; the other roams across your torso, groping your tits with a detached interest. He’s in no hurry, after all.

“Who told you to touch me, huh?” His words are growled, arousal filled as he grabs one of your tits and squeezes hard enough to make you whimper. “Here I thought you were gonna be good for me.”

“I am,” you whine. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I will.”

He’s silent for a moment, staring you down like he’s figuring out whether he believes you before sitting you up so you’re perched on his knee. He grabs your wrists and moves them behind you, folded over each other and resting against your lower back. “Keep those there,” he says. “This is your first lesson. You don’t touch what’s not yours and you don’t move a muscle without my permission. Understand?”

You nod dumbly and he slaps your face just this side of painfully. “Words, my girl.”

My girl. Why does that feel so delicious and warm in your chest? “Yes, sir,” you mewl. “I understand.”

“Good.”

And then his lips are on yours, colliding desperately and almost painfully as if he’s been waiting for this his entire life. His hands are in your hair, tugging your head backwards to allow him to place a trail of wet kisses down your face and neck. His mouth latches onto your collarbone, sucking harshly at the skin and you know it’ll be purple when he pulls away. It stings in the best way and a string of curses tumble out in a rush as you ride the high of pleasure. He bites down a little, making you yelp. “Manners,” he grumbles against your skin but he doesn’t let go, so you figure he’s letting you off with that one.

When he finally pulls away his eyes are dark and feral; all pupil and all control. His hands roam up and down the sides of your torso and he looks ready to tear you apart. “Where’d you get this dress, pretty girl?”

You pause, caught off guard. He was sucking a bruise into your skin a moment ago and now he wants fashion tips? “Um… a mall, I think.”

“Is it special to you at all?”

“Not really.”

“Good.”

With both hands he grabs at the fabric on your chest and yanks it apart; the material rips easily, crumbling in his hands and there’s a million sensations in your body as he yanks the remaining fabric off of you. The sight of your lacy black lingerie makes him smile and he fingers gently at the soft fabric of your bra. “How about these?” He asks.

“They’re not special,” you mumble. “But it’s my nicest set.”

“I’ll get you nicer.” The bra and panties put up little fight against him, and soon you’re completely naked and dripping on his lap. He pinches your stomach, just above your pussy and you whine. “Don’t ever wanna see you in cheap shit like that,” he mutters. “My girl wears the best, you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” you whisper. “Wanna be pretty for you.”

“Always are,” he grunts. He stills for a moment, stroking your thigh before he clicks his fingers, pointing at the floor in front of him. “Down.”

You obey wordlessly; you’ve adjusted surprisingly quickly to the automatic obedience he seems to expect—your body is already following his orders of its own accord even while your mind fades away into subspace and he seems profoundly pleased by it. You settle on your knees, staring up at him with wide eyes.

His lips quirk. Seconds feel like minutes until he finally speaks.

“Give me your hands.”

—

Your friend has been silent for two entire minutes. That’s how long it’s been since you finished recounting the events of the night before and looked up to see her staring at you with an open mouth. She looks… well, you don’t know exactly, but she definitely wasn’t expecting this. That much is very clear.

“Dude.” You force an awkward laugh, trying to break the silence that seems to judge you as much as you fear she is too. “You good?”

Finally she recovers herself and nods, raising the coffee mug to her lips and taking a long sip. She puts it down and you see a small smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah,” she says. “I just. Wow, girl.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t expect… that from you. I thought you were vanilla?”

You frown; you’re not sure you’d categorise your exploits with your exes as strictly vanilla, but to someone like her, who’s more than versed in the world of dominance and submission and had only ended up as a sugar baby later on, you suppose it would be. “I thought so too. Mostly.” You shrug. “But he’s really good.”

“You don’t say,” she snorts. Her eyes are wide and you recognise the faintest hint of arousal in her expression—recognize it at as the same one you’d worn last night when Johnny tied you to a chair in front of his floor length mirror and forced you to watch as he fucked you with a vibrator until you came all over his hands.

You can’t help but rub your thighs together slightly at the memory. You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, I can’t believe he paddled you, girl.” She sounds impressed. “I still can’t convince mine to do that.”

You definitely didn’t have to convince Johnny; when he bent you over the bed and ran the black leather paddle across your ass, all he needed was the word ‘green’ tumbling from your lips and he was convinced and ready to go. You bite back a laugh at the thought. “Yeah,” you say.

“Did it hurt?”

“Kind of.”

You’d expected it to be worse, honestly; the paddle was fairly large and he wielded it in his hands like an executioner’s sword but as he explained to you, pain wasn’t the point of this one. It hurt, sure, but it was a slight sting and then a dull ache that was pretty bearable once the first rush subsided. But that was exactly what he wanted; the leather paddle was for play, designed for sensation rather than punishment—punishment, he told you, would come in the form of a larger wooden paddle you hope never to meet.

“Jealous,” she huffs. “And he sent you even more after?”

You nod. The transfer of ten million won as you stepped out of the taxi nearly made you collapse.

Good girl, the note said. You could almost see the smug smile as he typed it out.

“You got a good one, babe,” your friend says. “Hope he keeps it up.”

So do you.

—

The position you’re in is becoming familiar now; on your knees in front of him, naked and bound by ropes that snake down your back and loop under your thighs. What’s not familiar is the silicone plug sitting snugly in your ass and vibrating on a low, constant frequency; not enough to stimulate or satisfy you in any way, but enough to keep you needy and on edge.

Johnny is slouched slightly, lounging in his large, leather armchair and tapping his foot against the floor. His gaze is firm and authoritative but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. He taps your cheek with his finger.

“What to do with you?” It comes out as a purr and you see his bulge beginning to strain against his slacks. Your breath hitches slightly, lips pursing and he notices, because of course he does; the grin that stretches over his lips is sly and scheming.

“You like my cock, huh?” He asks. “Haven’t even seen it yet, desperate girl.”

Your eyes flicker between his crotch and those dark, piercing eyes, unsure which is affecting you more. “Sir…”

“I’m right here,” he says. “You want it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Please, sir. Want it.”

He leans back, adjusting himself slightly. “Take it out, then. Do your job.”

You nod; you can do that. You really fucking want to do that, actually. It’s been over a week of this and you still haven’t seen his cock—he, meanwhile, has seen and touched and marked every naked inch of you.

“Yes sir.” Your hands are shaking when you undo his slacks; you falter slightly when the zip comes down and you realise he’s not wearing underwear and he cocks a questioning eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

You shake your head, blushing slightly. “No sir.”

“Good. Pull it out.”

His cock springs up when you release it from the slacks and it’s just as big as you expected-slash-feared-slash-hoped it would be. It’s thick and veiny too, already leaking from the tip and you know your eyes are wide and desperate but you don’t care. You’ve never seen something more appetising.

“You like it, huh?” There’s amusement in his voice, layered beneath the husk of arousal. “Good. I’m gonna train you to take it every day, make you a total cockwhore for me. Hold still now.”

He pulls you towards him, holding your head steady as he pushes into your mouth. He’s not exactly rough with it, but he’s clearly not too concerned with your comfort right now; any attempt to stop you from gagging or coughing up on it is for his own sake, not yours. He guides it down into your throat and you feel yourself tearing up at the intrusion. You splutter slightly, unable to avoid choking and he tuts, yanking you back by the hair to give you a moment to breathe before pushing you back down.

“Have to train that out of you,” he mutters. “Gonna teach you to keep your throat open for me.”

He holds you still, cock resting in your throat until you settle around it, adjusting to the stretch and the feeling. “Good girl,” he grunts. “Take it like that, all the way.”

He pulls you back again and you gasp for breath, spluttering slightly but even as you regain your composure you’re still suckling eagerly at his tip like it’s the only thing you know how to do. You feel the shudder that runs through him as it reaches his cock, throbbing on your tongue. “You’re too good at this,” he mutters. “Learning so quickly. Who taught you to take a cock like that?”

“No one, sir.” Your voice is muffled around his cock, drool dripping down onto your lap.

“Shit, baby, you were really made for this. You need a reward.”

The feeling of his shoe nudging against your knees makes you jolt. “Open,” he says.

When you spread your legs you feel the stickiness of your thighs as they separate and your face burns—you’re leaking like a fucking bitch. Johnny’s smile is the widest you’ve ever seen it. “Oh, baby,” he tuts. “Dripping all over my floor like that. You in heat, honey?” His voice is teasing, gaze sharp and he doesn’t miss the shudder that rushes through you.

Still being in the early stages of your arrangement, you haven’t yet had a chance to explore the different dynamics Johnny had explained to you the first time you kneeled for him; to feel what it’s like to be his puppy or kitten whatever he wants you to be that day. For now, you’re his straightforward submissive and though you’ve certainly fucked yourself a few times to the thought of him pulling you around on a leash, you haven’t felt in a particular rush to pursue it just yet.

But those words. That tone.

You in heat?

You remember your neighbour in high school who bred dogs; how she’d sit at the table with your mother discussing puppies and litters and heats. It’s a distinctively… canine word to you; to hear yourself, your behaviour described in that way is thrilling. He knows it.

His foot moves forwards until it’s in front of your pussy and you don’t even hesitate for a second when he tells you to mount it. He watches you with a calm, pleased expression. “Look at me.”

He’s biting his lip when you meet his eyes, clearly as afflicted as you. “You remember your first lesson?”

“Yes sir.”

“What was it?”

“Don’t touch, sir,” you whisper. “Don’t touch, or— or move without permission.”

“Good,” he nods. “Remember that. You don’t move unless I tell you to. And you certainly don’t hump. Yeah?”

“Yes sir.”

He curls a stray hair behind your ear and a smile flickers over his lips. “You’re gonna tie that up next time,” he says. He tugs lightly at your hair to illustrate his point and you moan softly. “I don’t want you looking like a stray in here. I keep my toys clean.”

Fuck, you love the way he talks to you; insulting and demeaning yet tickling all the right parts of your brain to make you melt even deeper into submission.

He pulls you towards him. “Keep that mouth open.”

That’s the only thing you get that even resembles a warning before he’s shoving himself into you again and there’s no pretence of gentleness or caution this time as he forces his way into your throat. He holds your head down on it and pushes two thumbs into the top of your jaw so you can’t close your mouth even if you want to—all you can do is gag and choke and take it until he’s finished with you.

You’re faintly aware of tears streaming down your face, but by the time they land on your chest they’re mixed with the door that pours from your mouth as he fucks in and out. You’re so overwhelmed that you scarcely notice the feeling of your dripping pussy rubbing agonisingly against his shoe and trying desperately not to move; all the sensations have blurred into one now and everything is the same, everything is too much. You want more.

When he pulls out you can’t help but whine, feeling the loss and he chuckles. “Never met someone so desperate for cock,” he says. “Born for it, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Your gaze shifts to the cock in his hands, still hard and leaking and your tongue swipes over your bottom lip, practically salivating. You shoot him a pleading look and he clicks his tongue. “No, sweet thing. You’ve had enough of that. Besides, I don’t think you’ve earned my cum in your throat yet. Push your tits out for me.”

You obey begrudgingly, disappointed at the denial but still eager to please; he rewards you with a slight nudge of his foot against your pussy and you buck against it, falling against his shin and he laughs and pulls you back by the hair so he can see you properly.

“So easy,” he groans. His hand slides up and down his dick with increasing vigour and he throws his head back in pleasure. “Fuck.”

The tightening of his grip in your hair tells you when he’s about to cum and you push your tits out further to catch it. He grunts and moans through his orgasm and your chest and thighs are a mess of drool and spit and cum by the time he picks you up and takes you into his lap.

His rough hands are tender and careful now as he runs a warm wet cloth across your skin, gathering the mess you made together. His fingers are rubbing soothing patterns on your neck as he‘a mumbling something you can’t quite make out. Doesn’t really matter, though; his hold is warm and familiar and the low vibrations in his chest as he speaks are strangely comforting against the flushed skin of your face.

Maybe it’s the endorphins or the headrush that always follows your scenes with him, but you swear you’ve never felt safer.

The money’s not bad either.

—

nct taglist: @bbdeongi @yabbadabbatuh @fancypeacepersona

requests open.

[l-starsz]

Billie sees reader doing yoga early in the morning and can't contain herself

a/n: this was actually quite fun to write even though i’m clueless about yoga😞 got a bit carried away writing it if i’m honest..

i turned over in bed and squinted as i opened my eyes. too early, but i needed to get up. i smiled as i noticed billie. her eyes were lightly shut, her mouth open the tiniest bit, and her hair messy around her face as she slept. she looked beautiful. with the small smile still on my face, i stretched, then stood up out of bed, heading towards the bathroom. i washed my face before heading downstairs for some breakfast. i wasn't usually a breakfast person, but i decided i needed some food in me since i was planning on doing some yoga. i'd recently started getting into yoga, and quickly discovered the hard way that i couldn't do it on an empty stomach no matter how much i hated breakfast. i didn't want to keep getting lightheaded halfway through..

i quickly made myself a bowl of cut up fruit with yogurt over it. it didn't take me too long to finish it, waiting for a little bit for my food to settle before going back to the bathroom to brush my teeth, changed, put my hair up, and then back downstairs to do yoga. i'd set my mat up, and began stretching, and doing different poses. i had gentle music playing through my headphones because i knew i wouldn't have been able to focus if i was doing it in silence. since my music was pretty loud, and my headphones were noise cancelling, i didn't notice at all when the door at the back of the room opened, and billie walked in. i had no clue how long she'd been in the room, but i only noticed when i saw a shadow nearby. obviously, i panicked, not expecting her to be in the room with me. i flinched and rushed to take my headphones out, looking up at her as my heart pounded in my chest.

i placed my hand over my heart, feeling how quick it was beating, and giggled as i spoke.

"billie, you scared the shit out of me."

she laughed and shook her head, then crouched down beside me. i was honestly still pretty confused about what she was doing, she never usually watched me, she only came in the room every so often to check on me and tell me how much she missed me, but she hadn't said a word yet. my eyebrows furrowed as i spoke again.

"how long have you been in here watching me, hm?"

"hmmm, not long." she smiled.

i reached over and grabbed my water that was nearby, taking a few sips and processing her words. i still had more poses i needed to do, but first had a question.

"what's up then bil? usually you come in and tell me you miss me, then go and wait for me to finish. what's going on in your pretty mind?" i smiled back as i spoke.

"well you just look so beautiful. look so perfect in that outfit. you look so perfect in everything. i couldn't help but watch." i saw a small smirk appear on her face while she spoke.

"oh really?" i raised an eyebrow, then sighed, "i need to carry on now, you can stay and watch if you want baby?"

she was very quick to nod at my suggestion, sitting herself down on the floor next to me. the whole time she was there, her eyes didn't leave my body. i could feel her eyes watching my every move, but i just continued. i knew why she was really there. i took another short break after a while and turned to face billie. she had a smirk on her face, and was making direct eye contact with me. i rolled my eyes and laughed, knowing exactly what that look meant.

"i still have a little more to do, baby. not long left now." i laughed as i heard her groan at my words, but something must've clicked in her head. she had a plan.

"can i at least have a kiss?" she smiled innocently.

"when i’m done. i have like ten minutes left."

"pleaseeee. pretty please with a cherry on toppp?" she whined.

i giggled at her words and shuffled a little bit closer to her, leaning in and waiting for her to kiss me. i couldn't say no to her. it obviously didn’t take her long to press her lips gently against mine. when i tried to pull away after a few seconds, i felt her hand come up the back of my head, deepening the kiss and causing me to let out a quiet moan into her mouth. i really didn't expect her to deepen the kiss. i felt her smirk against my lips as we began making out. small whines left my mouth before she pulled away, causing me to groan. i looked into her eyes, practically begging her just by looking at her.

"i thought you had ten minutes left, angel? what happened to that, huh?"

she was getting cocky because she knew she'd got her own way. she knew that it didn't take a lot to convince me to stop what i was doing and give her even more attention, and she knew her plan all along.

"please bil.." i whispered, my lips hovering over hers.

she didn't reply, just carefully laid me down against the mat on the floor.

"in here?" i mumbled.

"just for now, okay? are you comfortable, love? if not i'll take you to our room right now."

"please just touch me. i'm comfortable billie. i need you now." i breathed out.

she soon enough pulled my leggings down. she paused when she saw my underwear. there had to be a spot where i'd practically soaked through them, there was no doubt about it. i felt her fingers run over the damp no, soaked spot on them, lightly brushing over my clit, before pulling her fingers away. i glanced up at her, noticing that she looked mesmerised. i laid my head back once again when my underwear was being pulled off almost immediately. she wasted no time, leaning down, laying on her stomach on the floor, hooking her arms under my thighs and pulling me closer before diving right in.

her tongue separated my folds as quiet, breathy moans came from me. she made her way towards my clit, but then moved back down and pushed her tongue inside me. i clenched around her and moaned loud. whilst i was busy moaning, i didn't even notice her move one of her arms from uner my leg, allowing her fingers to find my clit. her movements were quick, and precise. we both knew i wasn't lasting long at all. i couldn't even stay still as both her tongue, and her fingers worked against me, bringing me right to the edge of my orgasm. my moans were more frequent and high pitched as i squirmed around, trying not to cum until she told me to.

conveniently enough, just as i was focusing on not finishing, she tapped my thigh with her free hand, signalling to me to cum. and best believe i did. all over her face, and her fingers, and the mat beneath me. hopefully it wasn't ruined.. but at that moment in time, i had no time to think about that, my mind was filled with my pretty girlfriend. as she carefully moved away from my pussy, and closer to my face, i took notice of my arousal that coated her lips and her chin.

"such a good girl for me, waiting for me to tell you to cum." she whispered against my lips, "upstairs now?"

i desperately nodded and tried to stand up, but stopped when i heard billie tut.

"ah ah, let me carry you, baby. cmon." she giggled, carrying my all the way up to our bedroom and laying me onto our comfy bed.

"just relax, okay pretty girl?" she whispered against my lips, placing a gentle kiss against them before moving towards my neck, and peppering soft kisses there too.

it wasn't long before my shirt was discarded on the floor, her lips all over my tits and working their way down my body. as her kisses trailed all over me, her fingers lightly pressed against my entrance, slowly pushing into me.

"still so wet and needy for me, hm baby?" i heard her mumble.

"yeah- yes. all for you bils. all yours." i whined.

"good girl." she praised me.

her fingers curled inside me, making my back arch. i was still so sensitive from my last orgasm, and was ready to cum again within only five minutes.

"that's it, my love. doing sooo good for me. taking my fingers so well, isn't that right?"

i moaned from the tone of her voice alone, my walls tightening around her fingers as i resisted the urge to cum already.

"what was that?" she spoke clearly.

"yes! taking your fingers.." i breathed, unable to think straight.

"that's right, baby. so well." she smiled, watching me struggling.

she knew how bad i needed to finish, how difficult it was getting to hold back, she just wanted me to ask her. to tell her. and of course, she got exactly what she wanted.

"please!! please- bil- billie. need to- for you, please. let me cum?" my words were broken, i could barely from a sentence, all that filled my head was how good billie was making me feel, and how bad i needed for cum over her fingers.

"there you go. just needed to ask me, honey. cum." she spoke in a soft tone, sending me further over the edge.

she sped up her fingers, resulting in my cum coating them, and dripping down her wrist, onto the sheets. broken moans and light sobs left my mouth as i started to get overstimulated. i grabbed her hand, urging her to gently pull out and place her hands against my waist. her fingers ran up and down, before she moved to lay against my chest. meanwhile, i was still trying to calm my breathing down.

her clean hand ran through the sweat covered strands of hair that stuck to my forehead. my eyes had been shut for a while, but as soon as i felt her hand on my cheek, i opened them, both of us smiling as my eyes drooped from how worn out i was.

"let's get you cleaned up, okay baby? then we can have a nap, and spend allll day together. how does that sound?" she ran her thumb across my cheek.

"perfect. thank you billie." i lazily smiled.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 14

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

Daniel Ricardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

series masterlist | previous | next

-

yn

liked by carlossainz, landonorris, danielriccardo and 839.547 others

yn an idiot, fav people, and visiting my private chef 🦋

*tagged maxfewtrell, landonorris, carlossainz*

maxfewtrell Can you stop posting these horrible pictures of me?😭

yn why would I do that?

maxfewtrell cause you like me?

yn HAHAHAHA

maxfewtrell 😐

carlossainz private chef, sure hermosa.

yn you love me

carlossainz sure, whatever you say

yn ☹️☹️

lando carlos.

carlossainz yes, yes I love you.

yn 😊😊

user isn’t yn’s boyfriend a bit weirded out that she’s always hanging around Fewtrell?

user why would he? He’s lando’s best friend and has his own gf

user do you know their lore? Everyone thought they were dating when they were younger. HE LITERALLY KISSED HER HEAD ALL THE TIME

user oh. yeah but still, maybe they see each other as siblings. Lando also does that w her

user hm..

alexandrasaintmleux 🤍

user I love the norris duo + carlos dynamic

-

“You wanna tell us what happened now, or are we gonna sit in silence?” Kelly said, raising an eyebrow. Alexandra nods “Yeah? Did he say anything? Do we have to ask one of the boys to run him over?” You laugh “No Alex, please don’t run him over”

“Alright, then spill” She claps in her hands. You just blush and look down “Oh my god, you did it” “She did what?” Kelly asked confused “It” Alex says, making a ‘catch up’ face.

“Oh, Oh!” Kelly’s eyes widened “That’s good, right?” You hide your face in your hands “How was it?” Alex teased “Alexxxx” You whine “Just a yes or no, then I’ll leave you alone” She chuckled “Yeah” You say quietly, still hiding your face “Then that’s great”

“Yes, I agree. As long as you’re happy, this is amazing” Kelly smiles and so does Alex. Alex looks behind you and her smile falls “Why is he here again?” You turn around and see Daniel, Lando and Max walking towards you. Max looks like he’d be happier if he was in a pool full of piranhas while Lando talks enthusiastically with Daniel.

Before Max can sit next to you, Daniel pulls out the chair and sits down. You try to scoot away unnoticeable. Lando sits next to Daniel, making Max sit away the farthest from you.

Alex and Kelly give you a look, which you return. Daniel finally turns to the three of you “Hello lady’s” “Daniel” Kelly is the only one who acknowledged him, while you and alex set up fake smiles.

You feel max’s eyes on you and you look at him, feeling yourself relax just a tiny bit. You give him a little smile that he returns.

“So? How’s it going?” Daniel asks in the round “Good.” Alexandra answers with a sharpness that he didn’t miss. Kelly nods along and Daniel’s eyes land on you “Great. Me and my boyfriend have been spending quite some time together, actually” You smile.

Lando shoots you a look that you ignore “How about you Daniel? Anything interesting happened since you’re unemployed?” The sharpness in your voice was obvious too.

“Yn.” Lando hisses “What? It’s just a question?” You shrug “He asked, I answered and asked the same question. It’s fine.” Before you could respond, two shadows appeared next to you “Hey guys.”

Oscar says, lily waving into the round “Could I steal the girls?” Lily asked, making the three of you get up. You wave to Lando and wink at Max, who’s cheeks turn light pink.

After the four of you left, Oscar looks at max “Could I borrow max? I wanted to talk to him about something and Mom wanted to see him” Lando nods unsure. Max gets up and walks away with oscar.

When they’re out of ear reach for Lando and Daniel, Oscar sighs “You okay?” Max nods “Yeah, why?” “Daniel is being a dick and sits next to your girlfriend.” Max head snaps to Oscar “What?”

“I’m not stupid, and neither is lily. We probably figured it out before you two did. Which wasn’t that hard tho.” Oscar shrugs “Come on. Let’s meet the others.”

-

As Oscar and Max round the corner to the Ferrari hospitality, Kelly, Alexandra and charles, lily and nicole, max and kelly and you sit there. You sit up once you see Max, but keep it down. Lily had obviously told you three the same thing.

Max sat down next to you “Rescue mission accomplished” Lily laughed and high fives oscar.

“Rescue mission? You two are crazy” You chuckle “You looked absolutely miserable over there, what else were we supposed to do?” Lily shrugged.

“I have no idea, Thank you tho” You smile at her, which she returns. You see max fidget with his fingers. You lean a bit closer, lowering your voice only for him to hear “Everything okay?” He smiles at you “I’m okay.”

You raise an eyebrow, not believing a word he’s saying. But before you can interrogate him any further, someone is calling your name. It’s Lando.

He’s coming towards you and the group, without Daniel. He stops and waves into the group “I need my sister for a moment” “Can’t that wait?” “No” “I’ll tell them either way afterwards, so spill.” “You don’t want me to do that.”

“Lando.” “No, really.” He gives you a look. You sigh and get up “I’ll be right back”

-

“So what is it?” You ask him once he pulled you into a quiet corner “What was that earlier? Did you ask them to get you two away?” “No. We talked and then sat down with oscar’s mom and with Max. It had nothing to do with you.” “I’m not talking about me”

“Neither Daniel.” “I don’t believe you. I mean, I talked to him. I don’t think he means any harm anymore” You raise your eyebrows “Lando, he hates max and doesn’t want us together. That was his goal all along.”

“No he didn’t mean it” “Lando, he’s in love with me.” “Yeah but he isn’t gonna harm your and max’s relationship” “You’re so gullible, Lando.” You clench your jaw and walk away from him, tears welling up in your eyes.

You walk with quick steps back to the group. Alex sits up as soon as she sees you “Hey? What’s wrong?” Her face scrunched into concern. Max’s head snaps to you and he also sits up.

You don’t say anything and grab your purse and jacket. Before you can stop it, one tear rolls down your cheek and Max is up in an instant “Hey, hey what’s wrong” One hand comes to rest on your back.

A sob escaped you and Max immediately wraps you into his embrace. His hand cradles your head. Max gets up “Let’s go into my drivers room, nobody needs to meddle” Max walks with you in his arms after max.

He opened the door to his drivers room but steps aside to let you two in. Max nods thankful and max closed the door after you two and leaves back to the group.

-

Once you calmed down, Max held you hands in his hands “What happened?” “He’s believing Daniel” You sniff “Oh baby” His thumb gently caressed your cheek “What did Daniel say?” “I’m not sure. But he believes that Daniel means no harm”

Max laughs “Sure, and i’m driving for redbull” He scoffs but his gaze softens once it lands back on you. “If there is one thing I learned in the last few weeks, then that we can’t care what others think. Look what it almost cost us. It’s just us against them.” He says with a warm smile.

You nod “His support is great, but we don’t need his approval or anything else to work. Okay?” “Okay” He wipes away the remaining dampness on your cheeks and presses a kiss to your temple, his arms once again pulling you into his chest.

-

yn added to their story

[cap1: 10/10 sleep quality,would recommend arm pillow | cap2: 💐❤️]

alexandrasaintmleux: Did you fall asleep during the race?😂

yn after that cry session, yes 😂

alexandrasaintmleux on a serious note, don’t let it get to you. It’s not worth stressing over 🤍

yn I know, we talked about it 🤍🤍

franciscagomez cutie 😂❤️

yn 😘❤️

user still soft launch 🫠

-

f1gossip

f1gossip Yn norris has been spotted around the redbull hospitality yesterday. Fans have spotted her watching the race from there with Max Verstappen’s Girlfriend, Kelly Piquet and Max Fewtrell, who is her brothers best friend. Is once again trouble between the norris duo?

user with Max? First they rip each other’s heads off and now they’re going against Lando? Sounds fake to me.

user she got nothing better to do than break up friendships of her brother??

user maybe she just watched with Kelly and max didn’t wanna be alone?

user oh please, he stayed alone in LN’s garage countless of times

user hear me out, what if they’re actually soft launching each other?

user let’s get you back to bed grandma

-

-

“Be honest, am I being dramatic?” You look at Kelly, who shakes her head “Why would you be dramatic for expressing how you feel. Not to mention that Daniel does not like Max. He stated that multiple times. And you’re brother is someone who easily switches sides.” She sighs.

“Just focus on you and Max, then no one can destroy what you have. Be there for each other. Trust me, once the internet gets wind of this? You’re gonna need each other” Sophie, Max’s mother chimed in as she held her grandchild.

P was laying asleep, sprawled out on your lap. You sigh “I know. It’s probably the most scary thing. But if we don’t tell soon, what If daniel does it ? What if he convinces Lando to do it? At this point, I wouldn’t put anything like that past him”

“If you two are sure about each other, no one else matters” Sophie says softly, giving you a warm smile. You nod “Have you called your mom about this? Or your dad?” Kelly asked “No, why would I?”

“So they’ll talk to him. It’s getting ridiculous” Another voice chimed into the conversation. You all turn your head to look at Max, who just entered the room.

He quickly kissed Kelly, smiled at P’s sleeping form and goes to hug his mom, gently placing a kiss on the small child’s head in her arms.

“I know. But they don’t have to be involved in our drama” “They’ll get wind of it either way. The media is fast.” Kelly shrugs “I know, I know” You sigh. They were right. Daniel was gonna try to ruin everything. He had taken the person who was against him, on his side. That was a disadvantage and a heartbreak.

It was time to really talk things through with Max..

-

You open the door to your apartment, hearing max move around in the kitchen.

“Max? I’m home!” You yell as you take off your shoes. Footsteps make your way to you and Max smiles “Hey you, how was it at Kelly’s?” “Eye opening” You sigh and sling your arms around his neck.

“Really? How?” He hums and pecks your lips “I think we should talk” “Sounds serious” “I think it is” He nods in understanding and leads you to the living room.

You both sit down on the couch, his hand resting behind you on the couch.

“What do you want to talk about?” “Us” You say fidgeting. What you didn’t know is, that Daniel may or may not have set a little lie into Max’s head, then even he wasn’t free of insecurities.

His insecurity? Franco colapinto. Something Lando had overshared once when he was drunk to Daniel. Something the Aussie had recently used, making a pit form in Max’s stomach now…

-

Like I said, we’re only getting started people.. 👀 I specifically left out some of the scenes you’ll be getting soon, that will paint the whole picture 🤭

The whole franco thing might not make sense now, but trust me its there (I haven’t mentioned it beforehand tho🤭)

[hersuniverse]

KITTEN

SevikaxReader

warnings: MDNI 18+, PWP SMUT!!!, scissoring, masturbation (r), cunnilingus (r!receiving), reader is quite desperate and pervy a lil idk?, afab!reader, no use of y/n, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader isn't described physically (does that make sense?), reader is younger than Sevika but still of age

author's note: I don't know how to feel about this one guys? I rewrote it like 3 times. This is my first actual smut attempt so please, SPARE ME 😭🙏

You remember the first time you’d laid eyes on Sevika, you were young, early twenties and she of course was older than you were but that didn’t bother you all that much.

You’d admire her from afar, only hoping she’d somehow sense your presence and take you in with open arms; though you knew  that’d never happen. You’d see her with Vander most of the time, of course that was before Zaun fell apart. The night she emancipated herself from Vander you watched her in all her glory, the tall broad proposed that Zaun should strike back against Piltover to which Vander disapproved, you didn’t hear too much of what they were saying, far too focused on the woman’s physique. 

Life wasn’t easy to navigate, always feeling too out of focus to grasp reality but there was one thing you understood about yourself and it was when you craved something or someone; and for you, that someone was Sevika. You also knew how controversial it would be for you to be with a woman of such age and power, but something deep down hoped she’d overlook that and keep you safe in her pocket like a silk handkerchief  she’d use when she needed one.

You could only imagine what she was like, her personality, her habits, her smells and her flavours, it made you all that much more curious. 

-

As Zaun grew dark, you grew older and with age came what some would call wisdom and knowledge but to you it was simply life experience and common sense. You got a job working at ‘Marty’s Muck’ stand, it wasn’t easy standing in front of hot stoves for hours but you needed to survive somehow. That didn’t stop your mind from clouding with thought of Sevika, you hadn’t seen her since her argument with vander all those years ago but you kept thinking. 

Thinking turned to dreaming, fantasizing about how you’d interact with her, would she indulge in someone like you? If she did you wouldn’t stop her, you’d do everything in your power to keep her happy. You’d cherish her even if she didn’t do the same for you, you just craved to be in her space as someone more than a friend.

You’d lay in your bed, the only light from the signs shining outside your window. Breath’s heavy, heart racing and a killer ache that you couldn’t seem to ignore. You’d squeeze your eyes shut trying to think of other things to focus on but the only thing that came to mind was her. You sighed in defeat, opening your eyes and staring at the white oblivion above. 

“Forgive me,” You’d whisper to yourself before slowly slipping a hand down your night shorts, an embarrassing amount of slick had built up and the need for release had only grown. You shut your eyes once more letting your mind run wild with inevitable thoughts of the woman, you relished in the idea of her using you solely for her own pleasure.

She’d flip you every which way, take you anywhere and with absolute pride. The image of her sly smirk flashed  through your mind, your hand picking up speed while you gripped the pillow you rested your head on. 

She’d be good at what she did, of course she would at her age she’d know the spots on you that you didn’t know existed. You’d dig your nails into her back leaving scars that she’d wear with pride, she’d leave hickeys in places only you’d be able to see and run your fingers over when you’d miss her. Your stomach tightened, yet you still kept up the pace knowing what was soon to come. 

She wouldn’t be rough all the time, no, there’d be nights where it would be simply passion and not stress. She’d make a mess of you and you’d wonder where your place was in this world, she’d make you feel dirty but in the best way possible. Maybe she’d bring you out to a brothel, pay one of the girls and have you sit back and watch what it means to please. Your back arched off the mattress, you moved your hand from your pillow to your mouth, biting down on the skin in hopes of muffling your noises. 

She wouldn’t let that happen, she’d make sure every single sound was heard and she wouldn’t care how overstimulated you were; if she wanted to fuck you she would.

And there it was, the wave bliss washing over you like the sun coming out from behind a dark cloud. It felt fucking amazing, of course it wasn’t the first time you’d acted so pervy but you just couldn’t help it; the idea of Sevika was insatiable.

-

You arrived to work two hours late the next day, your orgasm from the night before was clearly needed. You frantically apologized to Marty and claimed it was your alarm clock, which was a half truth you didn’t set the clock before blacking out last night but you would’ve done so if you weren’t so fucking horny. 

“I’ll work late tonight, promise!” You offered, which you would later regret.

The stand was dead, and it was as late as ever. You were tidying up the place when you heard a harsh thump from behind you. You let out a quiet huff “What can I grab for you toda-” You turned around to find Sevika, beaten and battered and with a  mechanical arm sitting down at your stand. 

“Can a lady get a hand here?” She groaned, clearly out of it. 

You didn't know what else to do, so you quickly locked up shop and attempted to safely get her back to your place. It wasn’t easy seeing as she weighed three times your size but you didn’t care, you wanted to help. You spent that night patching her up in your living room, you tried to ask her what happened but she kept dodging your questions with snarky remarks and those stupid sexy smirks of hers.  

Funny, the woman you were just getting off too last night was now in your house. You patched her the best you could, you tried to stay focused but the contorted faces she’d make whenever  you’d apply rubbing alcohol to an open wound only made you more curious. 

Once you’d fixed her up to the best of your abilities, you took into account the large metal arm she now had. It was damaged and you weren’t exactly a handyman, you reached over to the damaged prosthetic trying to get a closer look. 

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll fix it…” She stirred in her spot on the couch trying to get comfortable, her heavy eyes slowly shutting. You didn’t bother disturbing her, simply grabbing an extra blanket and draping it over her sleeping figure. Pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, you admired her bruised face, noticing what you assumed was a vein that had raised and was glowing purple a bit? 

You discarded the detail, you returned to your room changing into your pj’s and laying on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling. You felt guilty and a bit perverted after the night before, the thought of your behaviour made you curl up under the sheets and hope you’d somehow feel a bit better. 

The next morning was lonely, when you woke up you’d walked out to the living room expecting Sevika to still be there whether she was awake or still asleep. Unfortunately for you that wasn’t the case , she was nowhere to be found when you entered the living room, just a discarded blanket and an open window. 

-

That would be just the beginning, you started dropping by ‘The Last Drop’ usually just to get one drink for the road but you’d never stick to that plan, especially when she came around. The first time, she joined you at the bar side, thanking you for your good deed and offering you another drink which you took thankfully. 

That would become a regular occurrence for the two of you, when you’d catch her at the Bar of course. Some nights you’d go home unlucky because she’d be out at work, you didn’t know exactly what she did for work but you didn’t bother to ask too many questions. 

That was until one night in particular she joined you at the bar, rather giddy compared to other nights and a bit handsy too. Sometimes she’d put an arm around you or your chair for that matter, rest a hand on your shoulder when trying to be dramatic or rest her hand on top of yours; not tonight though. 

She slunk her hand around your lower back as she listened to you intently with a smile, you’d catch her eyeing you sometimes which you tried to ignore but how could you with such close proximity and that same ache between your legs. 

She’d say subtle things, like how much she liked your outfit and how cute you were. You wondered if she could see you squirming in your spot, trying to fix your slicked underwear, anything to make it feel a bit more comfortable. She smirked.

“You’re so cute and bright eyed, like a kitten.” You could feel your heart ready to burst.

She later offered to walk you home and of course how could you turn down an offer like that?

The walk was something, you guys walked around the lanes taking your sweet time to get home. You admired Sevika in the street lights, over the past few weeks you’ve been taking her in little by little, spotting more details about her as time went on. Her little reaction to things, scratches in her prosthetic arm and patterns in her drinking habit. 

There was so much you were learning about her, but there was still more that you had yet to learn of. 

Once you finally reached your door, you stood in front of Sevika, there was a thick tension all of a sudden; if you hadn’t noticed it earlier you sure did now, you bit the inside of your cheek feeling a bit embarrassed at your feeling of need. 

“Are you still with me, kitten?” You had zoned out on her, you apologized claiming you were just tired after a long day and she smiled at you. She told you goodnight before starting her walk away from you. 

“Sevika wait,” She stopped dead in her tracks before turning back to you, you moved quickly pulling her into a needy kiss and thanked whoever was above that she returned the same gesture. She pulled you into her and started to walk backwards to your door. 

You both wasted no time, discarding your garments after stepping through the front door. You stumbled over to the couch where she kept you pinned beneath her, she travelled down your body quickly, your desperation got the better of you as you were unable to lay still as she did.

She couldn’t be more charmed when she pulled your underwear down your legs, revealing your cunt that was humiliatingly drenched. You whined at the feeling of your core being exposed to the cold air, which was soon followed by a sharp gasp at the feeling of warmth between your thighs; Sevika was going to town. 

It was just like your dreams, messy yet perfect. Her tongue worked miracles that you could only be thankful for, you bucked up into her so much to the point that she placed her hands on your hips to keep you place, helping her leverage, you felt the cold metal against your skin, causing shivers to coral across your skin. You raked your nails through her scalp before reaching the back of her neck, you dug your nails into the nape while throwing your head back. You could feel her chuckle against you. 

You hadn’t gotten a good head in a long time, or at all for that matter. What Sevika had done was more than just regular pussy eating, no, this was an art form one she’d probably practiced on many other women just to get it right but you could care less. The woman of your dreams was in between your thighs devouring you like a last meal, your dreams were playing out before your eyes and god where you happy. 

Things were picking up, you could feel that knot building but it wasn’t the same, of course it wasn’t it wasn’t your hand rubbing circles into your usual spots; this was a woman with the intention of making you come for her own pleasure and you wouldn’t deny her that. 

With an arch in your back and a loud moan of her name, you tipped over the edge you’d been teetering on. It was like heaven, you didn’t bother fighting or holding out, you didn’t want to disappoint her after all. You caught her looking down at you while cleaning her mouth and licking your residue off her fingers.

“You can do one more, right Kitten?” You nodded frantically as your chest heaved trying to catch your breath, you were desperate to please and be pleased. She pulled your bra down, freeing your boobs and giving them a light squeeze. “So soft,” she commented. You rested your hands on her wrists as she gave you a quick massage. Once she’d let go, it didn’t take long for her to remove her own underwear and toss it somewhere in the room, she spread your legs giving herself enough room to settle between them, the cold metal causing you to suck in a  short breath. 

She held one leg over her shoulder as the other rested against the couch. “Ready?” giving her another nod, you pulled your bottom lip in with your top teeth, watching her settle herself against you. A noise escaped you both, the pressure from her cunt on top of yours was everything, you tried moving against her but she had other plans. 

She grinded against you with no desire of being gentle, she just wanted to fuck you and you let her. “Fuck!” You moaned as she began picking up her pace, the room was filled with moaned profanities coming from you both and the sound of your two slick coated cunts rubbing against each other. 

You moved your hands to her hips, trying to ground yourself as you felt like your mind was slowly melting with each hump. You watched Sevika fuck you, letting the image burn itself ito your mind for later purposes. Your pussy was glossed in juices from the both of you, you couldn’t remember the last time it’d looked this good against someone else. 

You could feel yourself approaching that same edge again and you could tell that Sevika was too, she was slowly getting sloppy with her thrusts and had placed a hand on your waist to stay balanced. “Go on, Kitten, give me what I want.” And you did just that. 

Your back arched off the couch once more, if not higher this time, you gripped the couch cushion for dear life as you threw your head back, she could feel you twitching against her as she delivered her last few grinds against your core. “Vika!” You called, she perked her head up, caught off guard by the nickname but still coming nonetheless. 

She laid down on top of you, both of you breathless and coated in a light layer of sweat, she rested her head on your stomach. “That was good.” You said, trying to coax a conversation out of her before you both fell asleep. 

“I know.” She hummed, obviously tired. You moved your hands to her back, caressing different shapes into her skin. Sevika was soon sound asleep against your skin, light snores filling the room. You smiled to yourself before joining her in her slumber. 

You felt whole for a moment, like nothing bad could ever happen to you because she was there with you. You slowly close your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your dreams were filled ith the image of Sevika fucking you dumb, whether it was over a counter or in your bed your mind showed it all. 

-

Once you’d woken from your wet dream saga, you found yourself on the couch alone. The same blanket you’d let her borrow draped over you. You sat up confused, hugging the sheet under your arms and rushing to get up and look around. 

“Sevika?” You called a numerous amount of times as you searched your place, she was just nowhere to be found. That’s when you realized the window was open, letting in a light breeze, you felt slightly hurt by the gesture but who knows, she probably had work. 

You searched around your living room picking up your clothes from last night in attempts to start tidying but seemingly unable to locate…your underwear?

[newtonsheffield]

“Maybe I’m glad to take my chance. Have you ever considered that?”

This is such a great line. It’s such an Anthony line too, “I don’t know how I got this lucky that you’re not seeing anyone, so I’m going all in”

Anthony actually can’t believe his luck. How Kate couldn’t find a date and got angry enough to fling the offer at him outside a pub one night he’ll never know but he also knew what he was doing on Saturday night from that point forward. He even wrote it in his diary.

“5:30pm pick up Kate for Engagement party”

And Anthony then writes “Baby Shower with Kate” the following Sunday.

He feels a little flutter of acceptance when he walks through the door and Kate’s mum and Granny smile at him.

“Anthony, it’s good to see you again.”

“You as well, ladies. You’re looking lovely today.”

He likes the feeling of sitting with his arm around Kate. He loves that. He doesn’t even really feel awkward when he kisses her cheek and goes to get them an assortment of snacks only to come back to Kate hissing

“Granny, do not ask him that!”

“Don’t ask me what?”

“Nothing!” Kate said at exactly the same time her grandmother said-

“Do you want children?”

Kate looked mortified as she shot him an apologetic look but he sat back beside her holding the plate out for her to inspect. “Yeah, I do. Three or four probably. I’m from a big family. But if it’s not meant to be it’s not meant to be.”

Turns out they’re actually a really good team for games as well.

“You want to win quite badly don’t you.” Kate chuckled.

“Do I want that nappy spray painted gold and stick on a stick?” Anthony scoffed, “Obviously. And I know you do too so game face on please.”

Anthony’s glad to have the chance to show Kate that her first impression of him might have been wrong. And if she falls in love with him then that’s on her. He’s not going to fight it.

[kazumiyas]

sweet — jing yuan

PAIRING: jing yuan x female reader

CONTENT: medieval au, marriage of convenience, fluff with 0.1 second of self doubt related angst, no swearing or anything so no real warnings i think :)

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

NOTE: requested by @prinzessinns for my event!

"princess."

you lay down your embroidery with a sigh, looking up at your husband — jing yuan — with a perfectly practised smile. "my lord."

he waves a hand at you dismissively, lips curving up into a lazy grin. "no need to be so formal — actually, i have something to ask of you."

"do continue." this is an arranged marriage; a union between two nations for the good of both. you — and jing yuan, too, you realise — are nothing but sacrificial lambs for this cause. and yet — his smile, the way he moves, it should not cause you to feel like this. the butterflies that come to life in your stomach every time you see him are just a mistake.

"you are overworking yourself," he says gently. how unexpected. then, catching you off-guard: come out to the gardens with me."

but wait — he shouldn't even be here, he should be out in the courtyard training with his soldiers or teaching his juniors right now. you open your mouth to protest, but he presses a finger on your lips with a barely-concealed smile. "not a word."

you stare at him expectantly, and he relents, stepping back. "we have both been working so much lately. surely a stroll outside shall not cause any issues?"

before you can respond, there's a firm knock on your door.

"yes?" you call out.

they're guards, specifically your husband's guards, and they're looking for him. your gaze meets his, and mischief dances across his features as he raises a brow. it's up to you, so what'll you do?

"he's not here!"

the footsteps recede, and he approaches again. "come, my lady, while we still have time."

the sun is already sinking into the clouds, bathing the grounds in a golden-orange light. he cocks his head, waiting for an answer, and you get up. why not?

"detour to the kitchen?" he suggests as the two of you sneak out of your room. you don't reply, but you follow him anyways, standing discreetly in a corner as he riffles through the well-stocked cupboards while the cooks watch on in disbelief. once he's satisfied with what he's scooped up in his arms, he nods at you to leave — only to be met by the guards, once again. a laugh bubbles out of him; he shifts the bag of food to one hand and grabs yours with the other, pulling you along as he begins to run.

you find yourselves hiding in the stables, sitting on hay bales in most undignified a manner; your husband is digging into a sandwich that looks quite literally perfect. you get rather carried away staring at him, and he, in turn, notices your eyes on him almost immediately.

jing yuan looks up, mouth full. "wan' some?"

taken aback, you blink at him owlishly, and he barely has time to swallow his food before he begins to laugh. "it's fine. here, we're not of any status, so please don't worry about any formalities."

you smile, tight-lipped. is this a test? but he's serious, and princess or not, who are you to refuse a perfectly good sandwich?

by and by, you find yourself slipping into commoners' attire that jing yuan has procured through dubious means.

"are you done yet?" he asks; his back is turned to give you privacy.

"yes, i'm sorry."

"take your time, it's fine."

you walk up to him. "still, i do apologise."

he seems surprised. "whatever for?"

"i just… i'm nothing like you. i'm sorry you aren't getting to do this with someone you really love, instead of the princess you married only to better the bonds between our countries."

"oh," he says, but he does not continue the conversation as he takes your hand and leads you into town.

it's well into the evening now, moonlight streaming down upon the two of you. even in his old, drab outfit, jing yuan seems to glow in its light. but that's not unexpected — he is beautiful. instead, what's more surprising is that no one recognises the two of you. or almost no one. (when you're almost at the end of your walk through the town, a little boy looks up at the two of you, eyes widened. he seems to have realised who you are, but before you can do or say anything, jing yuan presses a few coins into his hand with a sly grin and pulls you away with him.)

"you know," he begins. the two of you are in a secluded area by the town; no one else is around to hear him speak. "what you said before… that isn't true."

"what's not true?"

"the thing you said, about me deserving someone else instead of you. i don't agree with it."

"o-oh. and why not?"

"there's no delicate way to say this." he flushes a little, clears his throat. "i don't want to be with anyone else, regardless of what i deserve. the only one i love is you."

"oh."

"i'm sorry," he adds.

"what? why?" (déjà vu, much?)

"for springing this upon you so suddenly, of course."

"we're going about this wrong," you declare suddenly, fueled by the adrenaline of such a confession. "if we both love each other, we should stop apologising."

"if we both— what?"

the rush has left your system now, and you only offer him a shy smile in return. the sight makes him weak at the knees.

"what do you propose we do about it, then?"

you don't say anything, but the answer is clear.

"may i kiss you, my lady?" his voice is soft, and his touch is softer. you've never nodded this hard or this fast in your life.

when he cradles your face in his hands, you seem sosmall in comparison to him. fragile, like a flower or a sculpture made of glass. and his parents always taught him to appreciate everything he was given, so of course he takes his time, too. and even though fireworks are erupting through his nerves and hordes of butterflies spontaneously come to life in his stomach, when he kisses you, he's gentle and oh so sweet.

800 follower event

© reocidal 2025

[crush-itis]

⊹︵♥﹕ crush-itis ．🎀 ﹒( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)

⤷ twst x gn!reader

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⋆୨୧˚. tags ： sfw, fluff, Valentine’s Day special, hcs

⋆୨୧˚. a/n ： Hi, guys! It took me so long to make the typographies! (It’s nf2u.) It turned out so cute! I hope you guys like it too ^ - ^ it was so fun making the logos, I’ll probably be planning to make more in the future for my tumblr posts! Hope you guys like the hcs too <3 bro, when I started writing the Octavinelle student’s hcs, I was getting so dizzy, and sick of writing, so I’m sorry if most of the hcs sound rushed, or inaccurate 😓😓

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Riddle Rosehearts

♥︎： He’s both excited, and stressed for this particular holiday. He’d ask Trey, and Chen’ya for advice, sending them pictures—in the gc—of the flowers in the bouquet display. He’s even stressing about what shade of colour for the lace he’ll wrap the bouquet with. He’s just meticulous, and careful when it comes to gift giving. Dawg, he’s even standing in the cardstock aisle for an hour, “eeny, meeny, miny, moeing” these two Valentine’s Day cards. He ended up making his own card for you, bedazzling the love letter with pretty, red stationery, and cursive fonts.

Trey Clover

♥︎： This is his time of the month. He baked five different flavoured cookies for you, twenty pieces of heart-shaped chocolates, three lunchbox cakes, six tarts… okay, he just has the particular talent for baking, and cooking. Bro, even your bouquet is edible, and it tastes really amazing. When he gives you that basket stashed with pastries, and a lovely card, he’ll insist on feeding you each one of the sweets. He’d even intentionally wipe the cake’s frosting onto the corner of your lips, so that he could lick it off or something. He’s so cheesy.

Cater Diamond

♥︎： He is amazing in crafting, bro. He will make you these satin lace, “everlasting flowers”, sprinkle them in glitter, wrap the bouquet with pretty packaging, AND spray your favourite fragrance on them. He’d also take a million selfies with you, then post them all in his Magicam. The captions are just him boasting of how cute, and adorable his s/o is.

Ace Trappola

♥︎： He’s working part-time for Mc Donalds which is actually really surprising for him because he’s lazy asf. But when he saved up to at least 200+ madols, he instantly quit. Okay, he only started working last week because he needed money to buy you Valentine's Day gifts. He bought you cheap chocolate bars, this expensive Pandora necklace that he used up almost all of his money with, this cheap perfume, these roses he secretly plucked off from the Heartslabyul garden, and stuffed them all into a birthday bag he recycled from 2017. Kiss him please, he really worked hard in McDonalds to get you gifts.

Deuce Spade

♥︎： “Mom, what did dad give you in Valentine’s Day when you were in high school?” Bro is asking his mom for advice. He also has enough pocket money he saved up to buy all sorts of nice things. He’s got you Ferrero Rocher chocolates, a nice bouquet of flowers, a Build-A-Bear stuffed animal, a card he made, and of course, he even took you out on a date in the boba restaurant nearby NRC. He is damn awkward, though.

Leona Kingscholar

♥︎： He went all out. Lil bro bought you Graff, Tiffany & Co, Prada… he literally took you out on a shopping date, giving you his black card for the day. He loves to spoil, and pamper his partner. Let him shower you with gifts, it’s one of his love languages apart from physical touch or something.

Ruggie Bucchi

♥︎： He is broke, but he is creative. He made this really cute pop up card for you, folded these sticky notes into paper flowers, and bro even went to the woods to make a wildflower bouquet for you, and it actually looks cute. He even went to give up his childhood stuffed animal for you—it’s a plush hyena with a cute felt crown on its head. He practically went all out for you, and for this sweet occasion.

Jack Howl

♥︎： He bought you a cactus instead of a bouquet, and wrapped the pot with a ribbon—he even took the time to learn how to embroider to embroider your name on it, bro. He also bought you this cozy cardigan, and the usual box of chocolates. He wants to make this day special between you two, so he took you out on a simple date to go watch the sunset.

Azul Ashengrotto

♥︎： He took you out on the lamest, but cutest date in Mostro Lounge. He even planned with the twins to make up a special menu for you—full of all your favourite foods. Then after your date to Mostro Lounge, he takes you to the ocean, under the sea. He rented this little submarine, and showed you all the sea creatures, informing you who is who, and which is which. It’s like a free aquarium date. He even plucked this cute pearl for you from this unwilling, water mussel.

Jade Leech

♥︎： He made you the cutest seashell necklace ever. It’s even beaded with these glowing jewels he apparently found under the sea. And, of course, he also bought you the usual Valentine’s Day gifts, and he even got you the Sheldon Shrimp Jellycat. Man, he’s extra teasing, and possessive today too.

Floyd Leech

♥︎： He is unfamiliar with how the holiday works because merfolk didn’t celebrate such things, but he understood that it’s a little occasion that involves a bit of gift giving… so that’s what he does! He gave you raw fish wrapped in a bow, and he wants to kiss you in the VIP room in Mostro Lounge.

Kalim Al-Asim

♥︎： He done did booked a trip to the Bahamas with you. He even threw a party for you. He invited all his family, and, of course, his best friend, Jamil. He bought you all sorts of expensive things, heck, he even let you borrow his black card like Leona. Let him spoil you because he loves seeing you in flashy jewelry, and high-quality fabric clothes.

Jamil Viper

♥︎： He took you out to a lavish restaurant for a date, then surprised you with the prettiest bouquet of flowers. He is especially handsome too (well, he’s always handsome), and he even got dressed into his fancy suit. He wants to look real nice for you, alright? He’s not really one for flirting, but he’ll try. He started off with subtly brushing a hand against yours on the table.

Vil Schoenheit

♥︎： He featured you in the magazine businesses he owns as if it was the most casual thing ever. It’s Valentine’s Day, so he wanted you to be the star of today’s holiday. He did your skincare, your makeup, your hair, and even had your clothes custom made by a famous tailor. He’s watching you behind the scenes as you’re posing in a cupid-themed set, smiling softly at you. Then he will eat you out later that night in his dorm.

Rook Hunt

♥︎： It’s midnight, and 12:00 am strikes on everyone’s clock. It’s finally Valentine’s Day, and you’re suddenly awakened from the sound of your bedside window opening. Zaddy alpha is coming out of your window with the sweetest smile ever, and he’s holding a bouquet of fresh roses, a box of chocolates, a love letter with an ode written about you in it, and he smells like he just bathed in a body of cologne. He will also eat you out in your dorm tonight.

Epel Felmier

♥︎： He carved you the cutest apples ever, and made you his special candy apples. He sewed up a cute stuffed animal for you, the buttons for its eyes all wonky, and unsymmetrical. He’s also trying to be very manly today too, but failed miserably. Anyway, forgive him, because at least he was brazen enough to kiss you during your sunset gazing date.

Idia Shroud

♥︎： He was ecstatic when you agreed to going on a date with him. When he arrived at the little café you two agreed to go to, you notice that his hair (fire) is, like, a gradient of pink, and red. He is redder than when Riddle gets red. He is awkward, quivering, and dying internally. He bought you this cute necklace, but he is too much of a wimp to go and give it to you along with his other gifts. He’s twiddling with his fingers while stammering, and stuttering to you the whole time. He’s even hiding his face with his menu. Kiss him

Malleus Draconia

♥︎： He took you out to Briar Valley—the Country of Thorns. He showed you all sorts of cool places downtown, then decided you two would have your little date in this empty botanical garden. It’s getting late, and the stars are now glittering in the darkened sky. He’s showing you which constellations are which while holding your hand.

Lilia Vanrouge

♥︎： He had also taken you out to Briar Valley. He took you to the most romantic date ever to this treehouse-coffeehouse. He slipped you a bag stuffed with a box of chocolates, a stuffed animal with his cologne sprayed on it, a card, and a bouquet of your favourite flowers—on the table. Man, he is so flirty too. He’s cooing at how pretty, and cute you are, giving you all sorts of pet names. Then, of course, he’d book a love hotel for the two of you after. Guess what you will two do in the hotel

Silver

♥︎： Nap date. He set up this nice picnic blanket on the fluffy grass—under the oak tree of some nice field near NRC—two pillows, one for you, and one for him. A thick, fuzzy blanket for you both to share, and of course, his gifts for you are next to your little sleeping area. He baked you hearty biscuits with jam filling, wrapped you a nice bouquet of flowers that he put an everlasting spell on, and a card he wrote with “Zzz” written in bolded letters. If you looked closely, you could spot the small heart next to the Z’s.

Sebek Zigvolt

♥︎： He was stressing just like Riddle. Before Valentine’s Day, he was constantly blabbering into Lilia’s ears “what should I get them? What should I get them?” He was pacing around the mall, even asking Sam in his shop what’s the ideal Valentine’s gift. Sam suggested he’d buy this teddy bear—a cursed one—Sebek decided to trust him, so now, you’re hand in hand with him, and he’s yelling about his love for you. He’ll give your gift with the biggest grin ever, sliding the heart patterned bag to your hands, and you were met with a cursed stuffed animal, box of chocolates, and a handwritten letter, sealed with a heart-shaped sticker.

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𑄽୧ ׅ ׅ 𝒯hank 𝒴ou !!

[unfortunate17]

May Never Make it Out Challenge

Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP / fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart

thank you to @tooindecisivetopickaurl and @in-amor-veritas for the tags. I'll no-pressure tag @skibasyndrome @spennufall @malinowaj @phneltwrites and @hergrandplan

here's a very self indulgent science fiction au that i've been working on on & off for over year. i actually have more than 12k written it's just too weird to actually share LOL but...here's like 3k of it ♥️

---

SIMON: SESSION 3

"I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" Wilhelm asks, trying to keep his voice calm. Erik's words from last night are still fresh in his mind as he makes his way from the entrance to the middle of the room where the two chairs stand as usual.

Simon's seated on the floor this time, cross-legged. Wilhelm hesitates before taking his usual seat on the chair instead of joining Simon on the floor. The boundaries between them are still a little blurred. It’s difficult to understand what would startle Simon and what would make Wilhelm himself uncomfortable.

"It's not a song," Simon clarifies, a bit unnecessarily as there’s no piano in this room, "It's - a surprise. You have to close your eyes." Wilhelm watches as Simon gets to his feet, eyes subconsciously tracing a path from his slim shoulders to his slender waist. By the time he manages to rip his gaze away, a faint shade of pink is dusting across Simon's cheeks. Strange for someone without blood. "Wille is that okay?"

“What?”

Simon smiles like he’s heard a very funny joke. “Can you close your eyes?”

"Oh - yeah, sure," Wille nods. He curls his fingers into his sweats and shuts his eyes.

"I'm going to leave the room for a minute."

Wilhelm opens his eyes, a sound of protest rising in his throat, "You - has Erik said -"

"I'm just going back to the bedroom," Simon explains patiently. If Wilhelm's sudden reaction has piqued his curiosity, he doesn't let it show. "The passages are connected. I won't be anywhere I don't belong."

Simon's already halfway to the door before Wilhelm can get himself to respond to the wry words thrown his way. "It's not that you don't belong," he finds himself arguing. Simon freezes at the doorway, but he doesn't turn around to face him. "That’s not what I meant."

The response comes after a long moment of silence. "I'm not like you, Wille," Simon says softly, "Now please close your eyes. I want this to be a surprise."

Wille shuts his eyes. Mostly because he doesn’t know what to say.

The room is silent without Simon, the only sound is his own shallow breathing and the faint ticks from the CCTV cameras moving about the room. Simon is watched twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Wille’s not quite sure how he hasn't asked about them yet, how he manages to live - exist, whatever - like that. He knows that if he were in Simon’s place, he would’ve gone insane by now..

Simon is gone for less than a few minutes, but it feels like much, much longer. The room is uneasy without him, like something is not quite right.

When Wilhelm hears the door slide open again, he squeezes his eyes shut harder, bursts of multicolored dots appearing behind his eyelids. "Simon?"

There's a warm hand on the back of his neck. Wilhelm jumps, his eyes flying open involuntarily. He swallows at the sight before him. His tongue feels like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Is it a stupid surprise?" Simon asks quietly, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice.

Wille thinks he’s forgotten how to use his vocal chords. He shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained on Simon's as he reaches out to gently take one of his translucent hands in his own.

A smile flickers across Simon's features then, eyes squinting in happiness, tongue pressed to the backs of his white teeth. He relaxes, shoulder’s loosening. "How do I look?" he asks, "Do you like it?"

Wilhelm leans back in his chair, scanning him from head to toe. Black boots with little zippers up the sides, dark jeans covering the length of his legs. His arms are covered by a soft looking navy sweater; the peek of a white tee shirt visible through the V-neck. "Yeah,” he nods roughly, “You look - nice." Every nerve in his body must be burning, Wille thinks hysterically, what with the fucking heat Simon's body seems to give off.

"I spent a long time picking it out," Simon admits, squeezing his fingers, "I wanted to - I wanted you to like it. Like me. Sometimes it looks like you do, but you're embarrassed by it. So I thought, if I was more like you, then - you might."

Wille pulls his hands away, noting the way Simon flexes his wired fingers as though he misses the feel of it. "What're you doing?"

"I -" Simon looks at him, wide-eyed. Innocent. "I want us to go on a date."

Wilhelm stands from his chair, steps a few feet to his right in order to take in Simon's delicate frame. He hesitates, then decides that the question probably isn't as loaded as he's making it out to be. "Okay," he says, as casually as he can muster. His pulse is jackhammering. "That sounds like fun. Where would we go?"

Simon's expression ripples, something catching his features far too quickly for Wilhelm to read. "A movie," he says, "An ideal place to observe culture, ideals of beauty, self, and fantasy. Then maybe a walk through a busy street. We'd get a concentrated but shifting view of human life."

Wilhelm stays silent.

"Do you think about me when we're not together?" Simon asks now. He takes a step forward. When Wille doesn't move back, he seems to take it as a sign to close the space between them entirely. He fists a robotic hand in Wilhelm's long-sleeve. His voice is smooth, sexual in a way Wilhelm has never heard. "Because I think about you, Wille. I like to think about you watching me on the cameras."

Wilhelm thinks this is what it means when people say their life is flashing before their eyes. His breathing is obviously unsteady and he wishes he'd worn jeans, or at least thicker pants. He's embarrassingly hard on camera and Simon's done nothing but talk to him. "Simon," he begs, "I’m not sure what you - "

"You give me indications that you're attracted to me," Simon whispers, fingers smoothing across his chest. He tugs at the waistband of Wille’s sweats, "Your micro-expressions are - "

"I'm not sure how micro they are," Wilhelm grits, teeth clenched. He tries to imagine Erik in the observation room, tries to conjure up the image of him watching his exchange with muffled laughter. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to calm the rush of blinding lust that pools in his stomach at the way Simon’s blinking up at him, eyes deep and dark and wide. He takes a shuddering breath and pulls Simon’s hand away from his pants.

Immediately, Simon's face falls. He takes a step back, "I'm sorry," he says, "You’re aroused, but also uncomfortable."

Now, Wilhelm's face feels like it’s on fire. His gaze darts up to the cameras, their steady, blinking almost incriminating. "It’s fine, Simon. Our time is - I'll see you tomorrow, okay?."

The acute disappointment on Simon's face makes him want to take back the words at once. He swallows, turning towards the door. But, Simon stops him once again, his fingers brushing the edges of Wille’s shoulder blades.

"Will you ever take me on a date?" Simon whispers. It sounds like the words are being torn from his body.

Wilhelm closes his eyes, trying to keep his breath steady. "I don't know," he admits, more honest than he’d have preferred to have been in this room. "Have you ever been outside this facility, Simon?"

"No," Simon murmurs. His hand smooths across Wilhelm’s back. "I've never been outside these two rooms."

Wilhelm nods. He turns slightly to remove Simon's arm from his back, the grip of his hand wide around Simon's clothed elbow. The touch is different somehow, more charged than anything they've shared before.

"Will you take me?" Simon asks again, "Wille?"

And Wilhelm needs to leave. Right fucking now.

________

Wilhelm’s breathing hard by the time he’s out of the room, the ghost of Simon’s fingers still dancing on his neck, his face an ever-present image in his mind. He leans against the table in the observation room, ignoring the way Erik’s watching him closely..

“What the fuck,” he manages at last, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears, “What in ever-loving fuck was that?”

Erik simply calmly adds another spoonful of sugar to his tea. He's leaning back lazily in his chair, screens still blown up with the view of the now empty room. Wilhelm decidedly doesn't look to see where Simon is now. “What was what, little brother?”

“What was he doing?” Wilhelm’s all but yelling now, “Why is he - he’s coming on to me. Why would you make him do that?”

Erik takes a sip of the steaming liquid, an amused expression spreading across his face, “You’re the only other person he’s ever met besides me and I’m basically his father. Doesn’t seem too far-fetched that he’s got a bit of a crush.”

“Fuck,” Wilhelm runs a hand through his hair, trying to get his racing heartbeat under control. “Why would you do that?” He asks finally, “Give him - a sexuality?”

Erik sets down his cup and leans forward on his elbows, “Why not? Sexuality is a fundamental aspect of human life. According to most psychologists, sex is considered a primary reinforcer.” He snorts, “Gives him something to look forward to with you around now.”

Wilhelm takes a seat gingerly on the edge of the table, knee bouncing almost involuntarily. “Why me though? Why make him attracted to his tester?” He tries to keep his question as neutral as possible, but it’s obvious from the way Erik’s face twists with perverse pleasure that he’s given too much away.

“You're asking me if you can fuck Simon, right?” Erik laughs, open-mouthed and shameless.

Wilhelm cringes, cheeks blazing, “No - fuck you, Erik. That’s not what I -”

“You can,” Erik throws him a smirk, “His body is wired with neurotransmitters. He has a complex network of signal paths that mimic nerves. Strip him of those clothes he's just put on for you and he's anatomically accurate, a concentration of sensors down there. If you engage him in the right way, it'll create a pleasure response, and he'll give as good as he takes. He'll even finish, even if the actual mechanics of him coming - ”

Something in Wilhelm runs cold at the words. He steels his back, tries to make himself look as tall as possible even if Erik could stand and dwarf him with mass alone. “That’s not what I fucking asked,” he says darkly.

“Maybe not," Erik mulls as he gets to his feet, "But it’s what you want to know.”

"No it isn't," Wilhelm argues hotly as he follows Erik out of the room. Instead of taking the staircase to the right back up the kitchen and living room, they make a left turn at the end of the corridor. There's a completely new hall here, one that Wilhelm's never seen before. Not for the first time, he wonders how big the facility really is, why one lonely man would need so much space.

They walk in silence for a minute, passing a range of anatomically accurate paintings, mostly of naked young men and women. Wilhelm doesn't ask about them, keeping his eyes trained on Erik’s back. "I want to know," he says instead, repeating his thought from earlier, "why you made him attracted to me - his tester. Why program him like that? Is this to cloud my judgment? A defense tactic or something?"

Erik snorts unkindly. They stand in front of a smooth metallic door, much like the other ones he's seen around in the hallways. Erik clicks the button on his remote door slides open with a smooth hiss. "You don't have access to this room. Just saying."

"Erik," Wilhelm grits, "Why is Simon flirting with me?"

"For fuck's sake, Wille," Erik's voice is tense, coiled, clearly irritated and condescending all at once. "I programmed him to be gay, just like you were programmed to be fluid or whatever the fuck you’re calling yourself this month."

Wilhelm frowns as he steps through the doorway, "Nobody programmed me to be anything."

They're in some sort of lab, smooth glass cases covering bits of blue gel, boxes - clear and cardboard - line an entire wall, most of them filled to the brim with papers to the point where the lids strain outwards. Along his left are sections of android bodies - limbs, torsos, hands - lined in glass cabinets. Towards the back of the room are more parts, specifically a collection of heads. Skull-forms, some with complex carbon-fiber and pneumatic muscle structures, ready to frown or smile. All are noticeably missing the synthetic meshed-flesh covering that Simon has. A row of synthetic faces hang separately up on armatures, much like hats on hat-stands, waiting to be worn.

In the middle of the room is what appears to be an operating table.

Erik moves towards it, picking up a skull as he goes. "Don't be ridiculous," he rolls eyes, clearly amused, "You decided to be queer? No, of course you didn't - you were programmed by a complex combination of nature and nurture. Just like Simon has been programmed." He motions for Wilhelm to follow him as he sets the skull down on the smooth metal of the table. "And frankly, this sounds like your insecurity talking. You're attracted to him; he's attracted to you. His flirting isn't an algorithm, because for the record, I didn't program him to like you."

Wilhelm allows the words to sink into his skin for only a moment before he stomps down on the giddy warmth that irrupts in his stomach. For fuck's sake, he's a scientist; he needs to stop thinking like a teenager with a crush. "Is this where you built him?"

Erik watches him for a long moment, clearly interested by the change of subject, or more accurately, Wilhelm's need to change the subject. "His version of the womb if you will. Want to know the biggest challenge when it came to making him?" Wilhelm moves to nod before he realizes that it's a rhetorical question, "Facial expressions. Humans read and express them on a basic level, we're born with it hardwired into us - they span every culture, every language. It ended up being the main downfall of some of the earlier prototypes - "

"Earlier prototypes?" Wille can't help but jut in. Realistically he knows that Erik's been working on this little hobby of his for over a decade, there had to have been other models, simpler ones, ones that didn't work as well. It's still a strange idea though, that there were others before Simon. That there might be others after him.

Erik raises a dark eyebrow at him. "You thought he was alone - the only one?"

"No," Wilhelm admits, "I just - I knew he wasn't the first. But I did think he'd be the last." His voice is tighter than he'd anticipated, a fierce curl of protectiveness that’s obvious even to himself.

"You feel bad for him, little brother?" Erik leans against the table, looks him dead in the eye.

Wilhelm shakes his head, tries not to let his voice betray him.

Then, Erik sighs. "Simon doesn't exist in isolation - not any more than you and I do, at least. He's part of an evolutionary continuum, version 12.8 to be exact. Every version gets a little bit better, a little bit closer to that all-consuming fear. The androids that'll make the human race obsolete."

Wilhelm cracks a weak smile despite himself. He rolls the thought around in his mind like a marble. "So - do you think he's it? You know - singularity?"

There are a few beats of silence, nothing touching the moment except for the sound of their breathing, even though Wilhelm feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. He wants to know the answer almost as badly as he doesn't.

"I don't know," Erik says at last. He shoots Wilhelm a strange look, "Shouldn't you be telling me?"

"Fair enough," Wilhelm reasons, cocking his head. "Anyway, what about facial expressions?"

"Christ," Erik shakes his head, runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair, huffing a laugh. "He really does make you emotional doesn't he." Wilhelm flushes despite himself, "I hacked everything," Erik says abruptly.

Wilhelm blinks, "You - "

"I took all the data pouring in from cameras, cell-phones, every single one, across the globe - and redirected it through social media. Gives you a limitless supply of human facial and vocal interaction. Simon's mind is made out of structured gel - do you know what that does, Wille?"

Wilhelm shakes his head, "I don't know what any of this does to be honest."

"Don't exactly blame you," Erik shrugs casually. He sets the skull on the table, before he pinches it with two fingers. Wilhelm watches in fascination as the gel keeps its form even after Erik lets go, hardening into its new shape. "This is state of the art stuff, hasn't been released to the public yet. Structured gel is a new building material my company found a few years ago. Earlier AI models always used circuitry, but we had to get away from that. Our minds don't necessarily work in sequences; it'd be inaccurate, simplistic. AI minds need to be able to restructure and rearrange at a molecular level, but still hold their structure when required. For example, Simon’s mind holds still for memories, but shifts for thinking."

Wilhelm reaches down to poke at the skull. It feels like Jell-O, but tougher somehow, more durable. "What about the software?"

Erik smirks, "You're a thinking man, Wilhelm. Why don't you give me your best guess?"

"Social media," Wilhelm guesses. Then, he huffs a breath of laughter. “I guess, since you need to filter his data, social media is perfect - it gives you the ability to work with dense graphs based on familiarity rather than raw data from search engines. Most companies use social media to map out profits, what items are popular, who's trending.” At Erik’s encouraging nod, he continues. “It's a map of people's thoughts. But not just not a map - it's - it's more like a - blueprint. Because it's not what they're thinking, but how they're thinking, isn't it? It makes it so that Simon can be fluid and patterned, but also impulsive and chaotic."

Erik gives him an appraising look, clearly impressed. "Well done, Wilhelm. I hope this'll help you in future sessions."

Wilhelm stills, hand faltering where he reached for the gel skull again. "What do you mean?"

"I'm showing you this so you'll remember," Erik's gaze is cool, collected, casual, but it makes Wilhelm feel like he's been dunked in ice water. "Simon is not a boy. By definition, he has no gender, no sexuality, no identity. He's synthetic gel and hydraulics."

Wille averts his gaze from Erik to the skull on the operating table.

“A machine.”

[monyapolize]

shidou's hand pain? (+ brief discussion of leak)

so i was puzzling about this for a while and the conclusion i reached is that the simplest answer is probably the easiest one. but i had a lotttt of ideas i had to throw away first lol. at first i wondered if maybe it was an acquired injury due to overwork at his job. it's not uncommon; artists get hand-related issues, surgeons get hand-related issues, it happens. however, shidou has never reported any problems performing procedures on patients. he explicitly tells us his crime is going against the wishes of dead patients regarding organ donation. their deaths are not a result of any of his procedures, and quite frankly with something as precise as surgery, a hand injury would absolutely cripple your performance. which leads me to believe this is a very recent problem. speaking of, check out the Second Audio Drama, Aesculapius -> Shidou: Yes, that’s right. You know, I… continuously tried to persuade the relatives of a braindead patient who were against organ transplants. Giving them reasons like the ones you just mentioned, Es-kun. “In order to save the life of someone you don’t know, please let me kill your family,” I told them. It doesn’t even take much thinking to realize how cruel that is, but… I didn’t realize it until the very end. Shidou's guilt over what he's done is extremely recent because, up until the very end, he believed himself to be doing the right thing. When Es first interacts with him in the Molech Audio Drama, he is actively processing how he feels about what he has done. And what conclusion does he reach? Shidou: The death penalty is what I’m hoping for. Thank you in advance.  It's hard to portray feelings of guilt much more obviously than this, and yet, Es notes -> Es: Out of all the prisoners thus far, you’re the one I can’t stand the most. Going all pessimistic like that, running your mouth as if you knew everything, acting as if you’re oh-so mature, and never budging from that composed expression of yours—the nerve of you!

Es is correctly identifying how Shidou deals with his emotions, albeit they don't realize at this point how correct they actually are. Shidou always looks outwardly composed, it's a core feature of his character. He has to be a friendly face to the families of the deceased, and to do so often does away with his own emotions completely. We see him deflect and intellectualize his feelings with Es multiple times ->

Shidou: Family is… special.

Es: Huh?

Shidou: Let’s digress for a moment. Have you studied criminal law?

This exchange is followed by Shidou, in an emotionally detached manner, explaining the intricacies of articles 103, 104, and 105 of criminal law. All to avoid experiencing the topic of 'family' in an emotional way. Shidou also engages in activities he knows to be bad for him to escape stressful emotions.

We see him do so in an interaction with Mikoto. But interestingly, another thing occurs alongside Shidou smoking.

We've established Shidou smokes to escape stress. Shidou smoking in this interaction is very deliberately mentioned alongside his hand injury! This is because Shidou's hand injury is most likely a recent acquisition ALSO caused by stress. Specifically the stress caused by his feelings about his crime.

He even states that it's "probably all in [his] head." (On another note, have you ever seen the common plot point in movies where gun wielders get shaky hands and suddenly lose the ability to shoot accurately after a traumatic kill?) I bring all of this up because of a leak that I saw. Please turn back now if you do not want to see. I'm just sharing because it made me feel a bit better about the whole prisoners dying situation lol....

Check out the bare hands and wedding ring. He has forgiven himself.

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 70 ~ The Party

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 6.1k

In this chapter ~ Deanna’s home was flooded with guests, all drinking and laughing whilst Rose couldn’t seem to find a single ounce of joy in the event. The meaning totally pointless to her. After a blast from the past and many uncomfortable interactions, her patience slowly thins. Though at the end of the night, one final push causes her restraint to finally snap.

"Hello! Welcome!" Deanna's cheerful voice greeted us, "Thank you so much for coming. Oh, and I see you actually ventured out for the night, I'm glad you took my advice." she gestured to me.

I found myself mustering a fake, awkward laugh, trying to hold my tongue, "Yeah, yeah...where are the drinks?" I then asked bluntly.

Rick ducked his head down in an attempt to hide his smile while Deanna pointed around the corner toward the kitchen, "Oh, just right back there, please help yourself."

My smile faded instantly as I quickly brushed past her in attempt to avoid her for the rest of the night if I could. I had to turn and twist to get around the groups of bodies that were spread across the space, none of them which had a single clue what "keeping your eyes to yourself" meant. However, I tried not to let it bother me as the attention seemed constantly diverted toward us, considering we were the shiny new toys in the box.

To my surprise, there were a lot of different beverage choices, my eyes quickly spotting a new bottle of wine sitting out that hadn't been touched yet. I didn't hesitate much to reach for the glass to open before pouring a generous amount into one of the many plastic cups stocked in front of me. Helping myself just as Deanna commended.

"God bless." I muttered to myself, before taking a long swig of the liquid. At that point I didn't care if it was white or red, bitter or sweet. Just anything that would get me through this night even a fraction faster.

Though in the blink of an eye I felt someone already approaching me, looking up from my drink to see Tara coming over to stand beside me with a small smile on her face. "Hey, you made it."

I nodded, "Yeah," I hummed before taking a look at what she was wearing, "Wow, you look great."

"Thanks, so do you." she complimented, gesturing to my dress, before she slowly turned her attention back to the swarm of people in front of us. It was hard to ignore, considering the booming voices all around, making it all the more intimidating. "So, are you just as awkward to socialize as I am?" she muttered.

I took another drink before answering her, "Hm...no, I might be worse. I hate putting myself out there like that."

She held her fist out to me, "Pound it." she said with a nod, never taking her eyes off the crowd.

I wordlessly tapped our knuckles together as we continued to watch the people ahead talk and laugh hysterically with one another. As if this thing was perfectly natural for them, and it was clear our group stuck out like a sore thumb. I then began to wonder what their lives were like before all this, what their past said about them, how they occupied their time, or perhaps what their deepest darkest secret was. Leading to Tara and I taking that topic and running with it. The two of us had quite the imagination, bouncing ideas off each other back and forth as our drinks slowly dwindled down to nothing. And suddenly I felt the slightest bit lighter.

But we weren't alone for very long before Abraham and Rosita joined in, greeting us with the same weary expressions we wore before getting in on the conversation. Though I didn't fail to notice Abraham's wide eyed, almost fearful demeanor he had radiating off of him in waves, seeming to be in his own little world as he stared everything down. It almost made me laugh that this big, strong guy looked just about as scared as we did.

"You okay?" I asked while bumping my elbow with his.

He let out an unpleased noise, "I dunno about this." he murmured, still feeling a bit cautious and unsure.

My eyes followed his before panning down to the drink table not too far from where we stood, "You know, alcohol is always a good cure for tension. And there just so happens to be beer." I suggested.

Following my gaze, he was quick to nod his head, "Yeah. Imma try." he said before swiftly walking over to pick his poison.

The three of us laughed at his compliance, taking a moment to refill my own glass before looking at the girls left with me, "Now I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I think I'm going to walk around. See who else I can find."

"Wow, look at you go." Rosita admired with a smile.

I raised my hands, "I know, it's a big step here. But I gotta prove Deanna wrong somehow, right?"

"You're braver than I am." Tara chimed in with a hand over her heart.

I laughed quietly, "Yeah, yeah I'm a huge inspiration." I spoke lightheartedly, "I'll see you guys later."

Parting from them seemed harder than I thought it would be, finding comfort in the people I knew well rather than trying to test the waters of the things I wasn't used to. My heart rate increased concerningly with the anxiety running through my veins, politely trying to excuse myself yet again to the people who were in my way. I didn't know if I was ready for this, to venture out to try to talk to someone new. But I also couldn't linger in the same corner for the entire night, no matter how much I desperately wanted to.

I looked around casually as I tried to spot any other recognizable face, curious to see who else had made it to the occasion. Though subconsciously, I think I was keeping an eye out for a certain man; a man who was currently out hunting instead of right here alongside me. I was starting to regret not pulling out the wife card when I had the chance, insisting he skip the outing just this once to save me from being alone. But now I had no other choice but to suck it up as I took another long drink of the wine I held, trying to ease whatever worries I still held.

But amongst all the things running through my mind, I managed to lock eyes with Maggie from across the cramped room, seeing her face practically light up at the sight of me. I smiled a little when I saw the look on her face, gesturing down to myself as if to silently say I had done what she asked. I had showed up for her to prove I was really trying. Her soft expression never faltered as she mouthed a small "thank you," to which I could read easily. My head ducked in a small nod in response, sending her a small wink before I slowly moved on from the full room, knowing we didn't need to exchange anything more for me to know she felt relieved upon seeing my face amongst the others.

Instead, I trailed off alone as I looked around at the paintings that were hung in the hallway I lingered in, my nails tapping absentmindedly against the cup in my hands, trying to distract myself for the time being. I noticed the artwork styles clashed almost, yet somehow went well together. Some were more abstract while the others remained plain and simple, the oil paint almost glimmering in the florescent light that flickered above my head. Though the more I looked, the more I recognized a certain piece that was nestled into a gold frame; "A Summer Afternoon" I believe it was called. It was beautiful, comforting...yet all too familiar.

My mother was a fan of Asher Brown Durand's work, the same man who originally created the pretty picture sitting before me. And now seeing this hung proudly in Deanna's home, it was almost like a sign. That, or the universe was having a time mocking me greatly. It amazed me how similar the two women were, disturbing almost if I allowed myself to think about it for too long. It was like a reflection of her was being paraded around me. The same taste in decor, the same fake and condescending personality, the same eyes that held something just a bit more when they glanced in my direction. Even parties like this, my mother craved to throw them whenever she got the chance.

She always wanted to show off; that was one of the things I hated most. As a true narcissist, she wanted others to see her perfect house and perfect car, right along with her perfect family. And if anything was even a sliver less than perfect, it was like terror rained from the sky. Every drop of anger she held would be released onto whoever was in her vicinity, though it was my dad who took most of the hits. But...he wasn't always home.

Suddenly, I shook myself from my thoughts, realizing I had been spacing out for much longer than I meant to. And I didn't really want to relive any fun childhood memories, not here anyway. If I could avoid it forever I would, but sometimes the past haunts and clings to you much more than you can predict. My eyes glanced down at the plastic cup I still held, noticing it was now somehow empty again. When the hell did that happen?

With a breath, I steeled myself to head back toward the kitchen, clearly in need of a refill as the liquor wasn't quite working fast enough. It felt like the house only grew louder with even more people crowding around, noticing some new arrivals that hadn't been there before. I almost couldn't believe that so many of them actually came for this party, some just showing up specifically to meet Rick. Although, I could see from across the room Judith was also very popular. I felt bad for the poor girl and could only imagine her having to deal with so many old people pinching her cheeks.

The heels I wore clicked against the tile of the kitchen while my gaze scanned for where I had left the bottle, but to my surprise, it was gone. I even brought myself to sneak a peek in their fridge just to make sure I wasn't losing my mind. Nowhere in sight. But after I took a quick scan of the other room, I spotted it across the way on a lone table, completely empty.

"Bastards." I muttered to myself with a shake of my head.

"Oh, there you are!"

I flinched in surprise at the well-known voice coming at me from my left, turning my head to see Deanna heading my way along with a white-haired man following close behind her. "Oh, excellent." I muttered under my breath.

"I was starting to wonder where you ran off to." she said as she gently tapped my arm.

Another fake smile stretched across my face almost painfully, subtly taking a step away from her. "Trust me, I've been here the whole time."

She nodded, "Well, I'm glad. Rose, I want you to meet my husband Reg, Reg this is Rose." she introduced as she gestured between us.

I reached out to shake the man's hand, noticing the warm expression he wore, "So, you're the girl who's still considering the job, huh? Well, let me tell you, I watched your tape from the interview, and I think you'll be just perfect for the role."

"Perfect, huh?" I asked.

"Oh, yes." he nodded, "You seem to carry yourself impressively well, very similar to Rick. I think you two along with Michonne will do just fine around here."

I nodded my head, genuinely appreciating his words of encouragement, "Well, thank you that's...that's really nice to hear." I said before shifting a little, gathering whatever dignity I had left for the words that were about to leave my mouth. "But actually, speaking of the...the position. I'm going to take it."

Her eyes widened slightly, and I watched a slow smile being brought to her face at my acceptance. "Really?" she asked, "Oh that's wonderful! I know you'll just do amazing out there, better than the other option I had lined up for you. This is what you were made to do."

My brow furrowed as her statement didn't sit well with me for a number of reasons, "Right...yeah. But what about the other option? What if I had said no?"

"But you said yes." she pointed out.

I blinked, "Yeah, I know. I'm just...curious, I guess."

"Well," she hummed, "Since we're a bit short on volunteers, I would've had you work with the kids"

My eyes widened, "Uh yeah, being a cop again is going to be a piece of cake." I said more confidently, watching as the both of them laughed at something I found completely serious.

"What's wrong with working with kids, you don't care for them?" he asked.

I shrugged, "I don't know. I've never...well, I've never wanted to work with them willingly let's say." I put a bit more kindly.

"Well, I see you get along with Carl..." Deanna trailed off, "And Judith as well."

"That's different." I assured.

"How?" she pressed.

I licked my lips in annoyance, fighting the urge to roll my eyes right in front of her as I tried desperately to remain civil. I could tell she was just trying to make conversation, but instead she was just prying for answers for something that was none of her business.

"Because they're family, they're very special to me."

"But they're still children." she said matter-of-factly, "And you take it upon yourself to go above and beyond for them, anyone can see that. So, why do you?"

My patience was thinning the more she questioned me, the longer her eyes studied me with that same look I couldn't seem to shake. "Because I made a promise to their mother." I answered bluntly.

The briefest of moments passed before her eyes grew with the realization that hit her, the expression so comical that I almost wished I had Glenn's camera to capture it. Reg was quick to give her a look in obvious disapproval, telling me this clearly wasn't the first time she had acted like this. And I took that as my cue to leave. "Excuse me." I said quietly as I walked past them and into the living room straight ahead.

In all honesty, my statement wasn't as deep as I made it seem. Yes, Lori's death took somewhat of a toll on all of us and it was very devastating, and I did vow to always keep her children safe. But I had moved past it enough to accept what had happened. I just wanted Deanna to stop pushing, to stop trying to squeeze every bit of information out of me that she could just because she was so damn nosy. But apparently with our track record, my bluntness only stuck for a moment before she was bouncing back yet again to get under my skin.

Amongst my escape away from the couple, I managed to spot Rick leaning against the wall across the room, a drink in his hand and a far-off look to his eyes. I slowly made my way over to join him, mirroring his movements as I too leaned back with a heavy exhale. He lifted his drink up to me as a silent offer and I took it gratefully without a second thought. The whiskey burned slightly as it made its way down my throat, but if I was being honest it was less painful than being here.

"Having fun?" he asked.

In response, I downed the rest of the drink that was in the glass and handed it back over to him, not needing to utter a single word. He chuckled and looked down at the empty cup, "That bad, huh?"

"I would rather be in hell. But then again this might be it, I don't know." I stated dryly as I glanced over at him as well, "How about you, you having fun?"

"No." he said simply, "Feel like the only thing keeping me here now is seeing Carl getting along just fine. But hell, maybe he doesn't even need me to stick around."

A small smile was brought to my face, "He does," I assured, "The extra support helps more than you think."

He hummed with a nod of his head, seeming to agree with me as a silence settled over us for a few lingering moments. Though it didn't last too long before I felt the need to tell someone what I had just agreed to. Maybe the liquor was working better than I thought. "I took the job."

His head snapped over to me, "Really?"

"Yep." I said, popping the p, "Looks like you're going to have to deal with me a whole lot more than you probably want to."

He scrunched up his face in faux annoyance, "God, help me." he muttered under his breath.

"Hey." I scoffed in slight offense, pushing his shoulder lightly.

He chuckled, "I'm kidding, and you know it. I'm actually real proud of you for putting yourself out there."

I nodded, "Yeah...me too." I admitted honestly, "And you know, I figure I have to do something around here to pass the time. Might as well be something I'm good at."

His eyes studied me as I spoke, before a feminine voice suddenly cut right through our conversation, both of our heads turning toward the noise. Though my heart dropped a little at what I saw, my luck always seeming to diminish right when I need it the most. 

"Hey, Rick!" Jessie called as she quickly made her way over to us, "This is my husband, Pete." she introduced, the man himself right by her side.

Oh, God help me.

Rick stepped forward to be polite, shaking the man's hand firmly whilst Pete muttered some friendly greeting that I couldn't quite make out. He looked cleaner and far more cheerful than the last time I saw him, but the smile he held couldn't have been more fake.

I lingered against the wall with my arms folded over my chest as I studied the couple subtly out of the corner of my eye, focusing more on Jessie's body language as she stood beside her husband. She seemed perfectly content, just watching the two men and their small interaction. But then I noticed something. Something small, something not everyone would be able to catch. Pete raised his hand ever so slightly to emphasize something, and in a blink of an eye, she very slightly flinched away from him. That was it.

"Rose." Rick's voice echoed through my thoughts. I blinked a few times as I noticed they all stared at me now, Rick motioning me over with his hand. I sighed quietly to myself as I slowly peeled myself from my spot to step over and dreadfully join the conversation.

"Hey, how's it going?" I greeted the both of them somewhat uncomfortably.

"Good." Jessie nodded with a smile, while Pete on the other hand seemed to be eyeing me up and down instead of answering. He wasn't checking me out by any means; but almost challenging me in a way.

"I was just thanking Rick here for being our constable, I heard around that you got offered the same job." the man suddenly spoke politely.

I raised an eyebrow. Really? We're playing this game?

Clearing my throat, I spoke just as fake, "Yeah, that's right. I actually just told Deanna I'm going to take it..."

"Well, I think that's great, I know you guys will fit in right along with the rest of us." Jessie said, smiling.

"Yeah...yeah, they will." Pete concluded.

I narrowed my eyes at him as my teeth clenched together involuntarily, noticing how his smile slowly started to disappear. The mask slipping from his face.

"So...you both met Rose already?" Rick questioned to break the tension.

The three of us all muttered somewhat of a quiet response with nods all around, the awkwardness making me want to squirm.

"But I would still love to get to know you a little better." Jessie kindly offered.

I nodded, "Yeah, for sure."

"Yeah, I think I would too." Pete immediately agreed, not taking his eyes off of me.

My gaze panned back over to him, seeing the way he suddenly became Mr. Yes Man in an instant like the flipping of a switch. It was starting to get on my nerves, the air growing thick because of his fakeness.

But I then forced a smile as I tilted my head at him, "Well, since I'll technically be a police officer again, I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more of you, Pete." I subtly warned.

His mask slipped again and his eye twitched ever so slightly. This time however, I could see the slightest bit of intimidation when he stared at me, and that only made my smile only grow.

Although he surprisingly shook my comment off quite quickly with a booming laugh, "Ah, she's a funny one." he said to Rick, slapping a hand on his shoulder, "Tell you what, let me get you a refill, and we'll talk about you coming into my office for a checkup, alright?" he suggested, taking the empty glass out of Rick's hand.

"Oh, I can get that." Jessie offered.

"I said I'll do it." he assured a little too defensively, causing her to flinch once more, a little more obvious than last time.

After she didn't dare to protest again, he stomped away with the same echoing footsteps, leaving the atmosphere somewhat uncomfortable again between the three of us. And it didn't surprise me she brushed it off with nothing more than a laugh, her shoulders falling now that he was completely out of sight. "Having fun?"

Rick glanced toward me before answering, "Yes, I am."

I turned my head away to roll my eyes. God, what a big fat liar.

"That was kind of a stupid question, right?" she cringed.

He chuckled a little before reassuring her, "No, not at all."

"Still," she continued, "This place has a pretty amazing view."

"Yeah?" Rick asked.

She nodded, "Yeah, take a look." she muttered, turning her head to look at the amount of people genuinely enjoying themselves. Having fun.

I followed her actions to see some of our family laughing together happily, definitely more carefree than when they first stepped inside. Some even seemed to be making conversation with the people from Alexandria. However, Abraham was still standing tall in the back drinking a beer, not talking to anyone as his eyes were still widely taking everything in. But he was an exception.

"Yeah...the view's pretty great." Rick stated quietly after a few beats.

Upon hearing his voice, I turned to follow his gaze, only to find he was staring directly at Jessie as she continued to obliviously look around the house. The married woman. No, no, the woman who was married to the guy with a receding hairline and a drinking problem. My eyes widened before I instantly smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ow, " he muttered, his hand automatically raising to rub the sore spot, giving me a pointed look while Jessie's head turned back to see what had happened.

"Oh, yeah." I said quickly to distract her, "The view is great, I haven't really seen a lot of them enjoy themselves like that in a long time so...really, it's great." I then trailed off, "I'm sorry, will you just excuse us for one minute?" I apologized as I grasped Rick's collar harshly, dragging him away into a different corner of the room before the woman even had a chance to respond.

He kept trying to pry my hand off of him the whole way there, but I wasn't budging. How the hell did he think this was okay? I knew he was an idiot, but this to me was a whole new level.

The second we were out of earshot, I pushed him back into a secluded corner, beginning to whisper yell at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

His eyes narrowed, "Uh well, right now I have a sore head, that's what's wrong with me." he said matter-of-factly as he gestured to what I did.

I gave him a pointed look, "Be serious. What the hell was that? I saw you."

"Saw what?" he questioned.

"I saw you looking at her. The view's pretty great." I repeated, mocking his thick southern accent.

He scoffed, "Oh, come on."

"No Rick, this is serious. Not only are you looking at a married woman like that, you're looking at a woman who tied the knot with a sociopathic abuser. The idea of breaking up a marriage in the first place isn't all that great, but this-" I gestured before he interrupted me.

"Will you stop?" he said through gritted teeth, "I didn't even do anything."

I tilted my head, "Oh, so that was just something friendly?" I asked ironically, "You're telling me you'd look at me saying something like that?"

He stared at me blankly with his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought long and hard for what felt like forever, before finally muttering a small, "Yes..."

"Don't hurt yourself, tiger." I deadpanned.

He sighed heavily, ducking his head in defeat as clearly I saw right through him. "Rick, you can't do this."

"I'm not doing anything." he said defensively.

"You were trying to flirt with her."

"I was not trying to flirt with her."

I scoffed, "Oh please, goo goo eyes, honestly tell me what would've happened if I wasn't standing right there."

He stared at me for a moment before exhaling heavily, rubbing a hand across his forehead, "I don't know..." he admitted.

My expression softened as I saw how troubled he grew, reaching out to place a hand on his arm, "You need to be careful, okay? I'm saying this because I don't want you to get hurt, not because I don't...because I don't want you to have someone." I hesitated to say, knowing any kind of relationship after Lori had always been a sensitive subject in the past for him.

He could no longer meet my eyes, only muttering a small, "I know."

"Just please don't do anything stupid...please. For my sake, because...I'm going to go bald worrying about you."

His head slowly raised at my lighthearted comment, unable to stop the slight twitch of his lips, "Do you want me to go bald?" I asked semi-seriously.

A chuckle escaped him then, the mood a bit more lifted than it was before, "No...no, I don't want you to go bald. Not because of me at least."

"Thank you." I said sincerely, sending him a little wink.

He nodded before slowly bringing me into a hug, feeling the weight of his chin rest atop my head. He knew in the back of his mind that I only wanted the absolute best for him, and that's why I was doing this. Because I care too damn much. If anything happened to him that I could've prevented I would be devastated, and the bottom line was I wanted him to be happy. And we both knew that Jessie wasn't the answer. His pent up feelings for another certain someone weren't lost on me, but clearly that was a discussion for a different day

As we finally parted I felt myself sigh, "Well, I need another drink after that conversation."

He chuckled again, "Yeah, I think I'll join you."

"Nope," I stopped him as he tried to move forward, "You're still waiting on your beverage from Pete. Good luck with that."

"Oh yeah." he groaned, clearly already dreading that conversation. Then he raised a finger at me, "But we're talking later about how fucked up that whole interaction was between the two of you."

"Oh, we will don't worry. I'm already planning to kill him." I said sarcastically as I backed away from him, slowly turning to head toward the kitchen I was becoming a little too comfortable with.

The atmosphere was more peaceful there as I looked for another drink, though nothing seemed appealing with what was left sitting in front of me. As the night grew later, the pickings were slim, causing me to settle with a beer that was surely lukewarm at this point. I popped the top off easily and took a swig out of it, slightly cringing at the bitter taste it left in my mouth.

I never fully understood when Daryl said he missed beer from before the outbreak, the drink of choice just never sat right with me, yet he clearly loved it. But it was better than nothing. I just hoped he would arrive back from outside the gates and get his ass over here soon because I didn't know how much longer I could stand to be in here. It had already felt like the longest night of my life, yet I had barely been here for an hour and a half. Though it felt much longer than that.

But for now, I was just enjoying the somewhat silence in the kitchen alone, with my eyes shut and my head tilted back.

"Hey." a voice said from right beside me.

Goddamnit.

I peeked one eye open to see it was a man I didn't recognize standing a few inches from me, his own beer in hand and a small smile on his face. He seemed harmless enough except for the fact that he was wearing khakis.

"Hey." I greeted politely in return before closing my eyes once more. I was hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone, but then again men had a hard time reading social queues such as that. Or they just didn't care at all.

"I'm Spencer." he spoke again, causing me to open my eyes fully to see he was now holding his hand out for me to shake. So much for some quiet.

"Rose," I managed to say as I gently gave his hand a squeeze before pulling away, "You're Deanna's son."

He looked down to the ground bashfully and laughed a little to himself, "Ah yeah, yeah I am. How did you know?"

"Well, she's mentioned you once while I was around. And judging by the size of the community, I'm guessing there isn't more than one Spencer."

He nodded, "Yeah, fair enough." He took a swig of his drink, swallowing loudly. "So, are you enjoying the party?"

Okay, time for me to be the big fat liar.

"Uh, yeah it's great." I muttered, not meeting his gaze as I took a sip of my own.

He scoffed lightly, "Alright, that's a lie if I've ever heard one."

"Yeah, alright...this just isn't really my thing. I'm not much of a people person."

"Well, I think you're doing pretty well so far." he said with a different tone to his voice, shooting me a small smirk.

What the fuck was that?

I only nodded and offered him a thin-lipped smile before looking back ahead of me, trying to shut the conversation down. But he didn't get the hint...again.

"You settling in nicely?"

A hum of slight annoyance left me as I turned my attention to face him again, still trying to be as nice as I was able, "Mhm...yeah. It's still a big adjustment that none of us are really used to yet, but I think we'll get there."

He shook his head, "Man, I can't even imagine. Having to completely switch up what you're used to, I mean..." his voice trailed off.

I watched as a few seconds of silence passed, where his eyes were no longer locked with my own, but now traveling freely down my body. Although this was far different from Pete's gaze I was receiving earlier, I still hated it just the same. Maybe even more.

"My eyes are up here." I reminded, and he immediately looked back up with a sheepish smile and reddened cheeks.

"Sorry," he muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck, "You just look really great in that dress and uh...I guess I was just nervous to come over and talk to you. Now I'm just making myself look like an idiot."

Well, it didn't take a whole lot of effort to do that, that's for sure. I hummed a response while subtly shifting a little further from his frame, looking anywhere in the room but him. As if I was planning my sudden escape so I wouldn't have to stand here and listen to him for another minute. Though running away in heels wouldn't work out too well as I would probably just end up falling on my ass in front of him. God, my feet were killing me in these shoes.

"So, I was thinking," he opened his mouth again, only inching closer to me, "Maybe we could have dinner sometime? I would really like to get to know you better. Maybe do a redo on this whole introduction thing."

My eyes widened in disbelief. This mother fucker couldn't take a hint to save his life. "No, I'm good." I said a bit bluntly,

He chuckled, "Aw, come on. Why not? I could be great company if you'd let me."

"Well, even if I pretended to believe you, I don't think my husband would like that very much. And...I don't think I would like it much either."

His whole charming demeanor suddenly faded at just the briefest mention of my commitment to someone else, "Wait, wait, you're married?" I wordlessly held up my left hand and showed the very obvious wedding ring on my finger. "No shit." he muttered with a huff, "Well, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."

"Yeah, me too." I mumbled.

A beat of uncomfortable silence passed as he took another long sip of his drink, trying to find the words after his ego was clearly just bruised. "Well, who's the lucky guy?" he asked, a certain bitterness to his tone.

"Daryl Dixon."

He looked lost, shaking his head slightly as if he didn't know who the hell I was talking about, "Longer brown hair, blue eyes, leather vest, crossbow." I described.

"Ohhh," he drug out with a point of his finger, "Yeah, I've seen him around a few times, but...you're telling me you're married to that guy?"

I blinked, "...Yes?"

He chuckled as if he amused himself, "Wow."

"Hey, I didn't ask for your approval."

"No, no, I'm just saying out of everyone, you chose to marry that redneck?" he asked in disbelief.

"Watch it." I said lowly.

He raised his hands in surrender, "All I'm saying is you could do a lot better. Maybe raise your standards a bit sweetheart."

Oh, my standards were plenty high. He just couldn't seem to see them because of his five-foot seven ass. The last thing I wanted here was to get on Deanna's bad side for saying something I'd regret later to her own son. But I just couldn't help it. His smile was just too cocky and the pet name he called me sounded far too creepy for me to just walk away and let it go. So, instead of saying something. I let my actions speak instead.

Before my brain could even process what I was doing, his head and shirt were completely drenched in beer and my bottle was suddenly looking very empty. His mouth dropped at my actions, but my smile couldn't get any wider seeing I managed to tear down the last of his confidence.

"So, a little piece of advice," I said, setting the bottle down on the counter with a slam, "Next time you feel like being a prick, maybe choose your words a little more carefully and remember who the hell you're talking to."

He opened his mouth to reply, but I brushed past him without even giving him the chance, but not before turning around once more to say one last thing, "Oh, and uh..." I paused, eyeing him up and down, "You got a little something right here sweetheart." I gestured to my own head and smiled slightly at him standing there soaking wet.

Leaving him dumbfounded, I walked away and headed straight for the front door. At this point I couldn't even bring myself to care that Daryl hadn't shown up, I just wanted to be out of this damn house and away from all these people. I was starting to feel claustrophobic. My feet were moving so fast to get out of there that I kept accidentally bumping into strangers and muttering small apologies along the way, not being able to make it outside fast enough.

And right as I was about to reach the front door, I completely body slammed into someone who got in the way at the wrong time. "Shit, I am so sorry." I said as I looked up at the victim.

Abraham stood there with wide eyes, "You're alright." he reassured, steadying my wobbly figure as I fought to keep my balance, "You okay there, Missy?"

I shook my head, feeling a little relieved it was someone I knew, "Yeah, I'm fine I just gotta get out of here." I said as I reached for the door handle.

"Hey, woah, woah." he said, grabbing back onto my arm and looking at me for only a split second before his gaze hardened, "Who do I gotta punch?"

I laughed lightly, "No one. Seriously, I'm okay."

"You sure?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure. I just want to go home, get out of here...get these damn heels off."

He smiled in understanding, "Alright. But you let me know if you change your mind."

"I will," I promised, "Drink another beer for me." I said as I squeezed his arm lightly, before turning towards the door and walking into the darkness.

In the past two years now of the world being like this, full of walkers, heartbreak, and just plain shit, I have never wanted to just collapse and go to sleep like I do right now. Maybe it was the alcohol that made me this tired, maybe I was being dramatic but I felt like I had been through the wringer. My feet hurt, I got hit on by an asshole and was almost threatened by another, and I really wanted pizza for some reason. All because I went to a stupid party that I didn't even want to go to in the first place. Welcome to Alexandria ladies and gentlemen.

~ Thanks for reading! (This might be one of my favorite chapters I've written yet! I loved the party in Alexandria and I've been itching to put this chapter out:))

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

[slcmml]

charlie & reader. fluff.

the whole thing is a mess from the start.

when schlatt offered to book the place for the trip, you should’ve known something would go wrong. you should’ve double checked, should’ve at least confirmed that he had, in fact, booked the correct amount of beds. but no, you trusted him. like an idiot.

so now, after an exhausting day of traveling and an even longer evening out with everyone, you’re standing in the doorway of a small, dimly lit hotel room, staring at the very obvious, very singular bed in the middle of it.

“…so,” charlie says, scratching the back of his neck. “this is, uh. this is a thing.”

you huff out a laugh, dropping your bag by the door. “guess we’re sharing.”

charlie freezes for a second before nodding quickly. “yeah. yeah, totally. no big deal.”

except it is a big deal, because charlie is acting weird.

not that charlie isn’t a little weird in general, but this is different. he keeps fidgeting, keeps looking at the bed like it’s going to jump up and bite him, keeps sneaking quick, nervous glances at you like you might suddenly change your mind and make him sleep on the floor.

you squint at him. “you okay?”

“yep,” he says, way too fast. “just—just didn’t expect to be in this, uh, situation.”

you flop down on the bed, stretching out dramatically. “it’s not that bad. could be worse.”

charlie hesitates. “how?”

“i dunno. we could’ve ended up with no bed at all. or, like, one of those creepy motel rooms that look like they’ve seen a murder.”

charlie snorts, shaking his head as he finally sets his bag down. “i mean, yeah, but still.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “c’mon, man. bed’s not gonna kill you.”

he hesitates again, then, after what seems like a whole internal battle, he sits down—stiffly, awkwardly, as far to the edge as humanly possible.

you raise an eyebrow. “dude. you can relax.”

“i am relaxed,” he says, clearly not relaxed.

you roll onto your side to face him, propping your head up on one hand. “you’re acting weird.”

charlie swallows. “i’m not.”

“you are.”

he avoids your gaze. “nope.”

“charlie.”

finally, he sighs, shoulders slumping. “i just… i don’t wanna make things weird, y’know? like, what if you’re uncomfortable?”

you blink. “why would i be uncomfortable?”

he rubs a hand over his face. “because we’re sharing a bed?”

you snort. “charlie, it’s not a big deal.”

he still looks unsure. you watch him for a moment, the way he won’t quite meet your eyes, the nervous way he keeps fidgeting with his sleeves.

“…do you feel weird about it?”

charlie freezes. “what? no. pfft. why would i—? no.”

you grin. “you do.”

“shut up.”

“charlie.”

“dude.”

you shift closer, just a little, just enough to watch his ears turn red. “oh my god, you’re freaking out.”

“i’m not.”

you poke his arm. “do you have a crush on me or something?”

charlie chokes. “what—? no.”

you laugh. “you totally do.”

“i don’t.”

“you’re blushing.”

“i—i am not—”

he turns away, but you catch the way his face burns red. and suddenly, the teasing stops feeling like just teasing.

you hesitate, watching him carefully. “charlie.”

he groans, dropping his face into his hands. “dude, please.”

you reach out, nudging his arm gently. “hey. i was just messing with you, but… if you do like me, you can just say it, y’know.”

he mumbles something into his hands.

“…what?”

he peeks up at you, groaning again. “i said, i do like you, but i didn’t want it to be weird.”

your heart stutters.

you sit up, nudging his knee with yours. “it’s not weird.”

charlie finally looks at you, his expression unsure. “it’s not?”

you shake your head. “no, man. it’s kind of, uh, cute, actually.”

he lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “so… what now?”

you pretend to think for a second, then grin. “now, we go to sleep. together. in the same bed.”

charlie groans, flopping backward. “god, you’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

you roll over, throwing an arm across his chest dramatically. “now why would i do that?”

he sputters. “dude.”

you just laugh, and after a second, charlie does too, shaking his head before hesitantly wrapping an arm around you.

it’s warm. it’s comfortable. it’s nice.

© slcmml

[wanderingblindly]

okay okay okay so first of all prospective aspect has completely fried my brain like I'm gonna need 6-8 workdays to recover at LEAST jesus h fucking christttt.

I know, logically the future past and prospective aspect universes are and must be separate because otherwise older lando and oscar not knowing about their respective time loops makes no sense but. BUT. the universe, ominescent and clairvoyant as she may be, is perhaps not infallible. what I'm saying is, to me, the possibility and potential of future past younger lando and prospective aspect younger oscar getting, by some glitch in the matrix, spat back in time in the same reality (actually somewhere around the same time if I don't have their age gap horribly mixed up) is too mind-blowing to ignore.

like, imagine, both of them are well aware and actively driven insane by what they experienced. while also being completely unaware of the other's situation (younger lando also kinda unaware of oscar's existence lmao) because, obviously, their older selves had not mentioned anything about the double-timeloop to them. aka they're both individually trying to navigate life with their respectively insane knowledge (and aftermath of their frankly violent sexual awakenings) while believing that the other doesn't and cannot know about the time-loop.

so, if ex: younger future past lando would've been going insane trying to find "his oscar" imagine how freaked out he would be upon meeting younger prospective aspect oscar and realising how WEIRD he's acting, and vice-versa. lowkey this scenario would be weirder for oscar because (at least in my brain) he'd subsciously be trying to like figure out how and when and why lando turns out like THAT compared to the not-quite-virginial but still blushing mess lando is at 23 while probably having several breakdowns of his own.

the main question floating in my mind is: how and when do they figure out they've both been in a time loop? is it before they even confess? after? during? is it before they've had regular-non-time-loopy sex? after??? during????? (I'd imagine due to some freudian slips or objectively Strange behaviour or some good ol' accidental voyeurism) what do they DO with that information???? (apart from being likely even freakier than their non-double-looped counterparts. like idk if it makes sense but I for some reason can't imagine single-loop landoscar would be the exact same as double-loop landoscar.)

anyways. yeah. head full many many many thoughts I'll be stewing boiling simmering for the next. eternity. love u please don't break your brain like I just did 💖

(prospective aspect)

Oh my god N E B how the fuck did you both read that so fast AND craft and entire mindfuck about the intricacies of a dual time loop,,,,,, I fear ur powers,,,,,

But you’re actually making a point I hadn’t even realized: rookie lando from future past and f3 oscar from prospective aspect DO almost come from the same year? 2019 vs 2020? I have no clue how I didn’t realize that. All I would have to do is lightly fudge some timelines, mix up their returns back to “their world” and. Bam. The ultimate freak for freak collision. What the fuck.

“Frankly violent sexual awakenings” wasn’t the point of this ask, but I did make me wonder like…. Did I traumatize these guys? Like. Wait. Wait no did I actually traumatize them because that WASNT the goal wait —

In regards to how would they find out they’re in a time loop:

It would depend significantly on which reality they both landed back in, right? Because unless they found a dimension that broke their respective time loops, one of their experiences is gonna have to come back up. Either landoscar is gonna run into rookie lando in Japan again, or married landoscar is gonna find F3 Oscar during the off season. In which case, I’d imagine the non-affected party would… confess?

Especially when you consider that Lando and Oscar both didn’t tell the other about their experiences. Lando didn’t share bc he didn’t know when it would happen, and Oscar didn’t share bc he thought it wasn’t real — so they can’t find out they were both time looped until the event repeats!!!!!!!

Thank u for the morning brain teaser you absolute menace, I’m glad you enjoyed the (literal and metaphorical) fuckery 💖💖💖💖

[kpopsexstories]

GAY ONE-SHOT #5: Riize Group Jerk-off Pt. 1/2

Check out this post for my straight smut and this post for more gay smut.

Someone sent this request: “Is there any chance for you to write a story where the NCT Dream members masturbate together? For the scenario, I let your imagination do the work. You always do an amazing job. I would also like one with RIIZE. For the scenario, I would like the story to take place in the shower of their dorm. Since they told that they shower together sometimes to buy time, so they are not late for their schedule. I really enjoyed your TXT skinny dipping story.”

Presenting Riize Group Jerk-off, a story that is exactly what you think it is 😅 The six men of Riize find themselves naked together in the dorm bathroom and things turn sexual. There’s no actual sex in this one, just thrilling and naughty masturbation 😜

I was going to release this story as one long post. But I need a little more time with the second half. It turned out describing six individual orgasms while keeping things fresh isn’t that easy.

For this first part I’ve focused on there being fun fluff and plot to explain how they ended up in this situation. Like the TXT skinny dipping story mentioned in the request, and this TXT shower masturbation story, I’ve also wanted the idols to feel like the situation is odd, unusual but exciting.

So, please enjoy this story of the members of Riize rushing to not be late for their schedule in the morning only to end up… well, you know 🙂

Idols: Riize

Content: Running late for their schedule the members of Riize undress in the bathroom.

Type of Sex: Masturbation

Word Count: 2.9k (Part 1 only)

Chaos ensued in the Riize dormitory, when the boys forgot to set their alarm and they woke up running late for a press conference. “Forgot” is not entirely accurate. None of them bothered, because they all assumed someone else would take charge and rally the troops in the morning. It was a lesson on responsibility they learned the hard way.

“Shotaro, get up!” Sungchan said and abruptly pulled the poor man's duvet aside. Shotaro, shirtless in his pyjama pants, rolled over on his back with a grunt and yawned.

Sungchan quickly threw on a shirt and left the shared room, where six bunk beds lined the walls, four of which were empty.

“Anton, stop jerking off in there,” Sungchan said and slammed his hand hard on the bathroom door. “The rest of us haven't showered yet.”

Inside, Anton was sitting on the toilet scrolling through his phone, slowly waking up. Sungchan's yelling made him put the phone down and squeeze a little harder which actually made his body come to life a little faster.

Shotaro sat up on his bed. He looked around and saw Eunseok on a bed in the other end of the room, putting on a shirt.

“Have you showered?” he asked.

“No,” Eunseok replied.

“Then why are you getting dressed?” Shotaro asked and giggled.

Eunseok stopped in his tracks with the shirt around his neck. “Fair point,” he said and took it off again, as if it would really make a time-wise difference. The two friends looked at each other and chuckled about it, because they knew it would not but they really were super late.

Sohee walked through the hallway outside with a bowl and spoon in his hands, hastily shoving cereal and milk into his mouth. “Hurry up!” he said and kicked the bathroom door in passing.

Anton stopped squeezing and started wiping before he was done.

Shotaro didn't have breakfast, he never did. He needed to pee though and hadn't showered either. Eunseok normally did eat but not today, there was no time. Other than a shower, next on his list was to brush his teeth. Stuck in a bottle neck, the two remained seated on edge of their beds, not quite sure if there was something else they should be doing while they waited.

There was. They could prepare their outfits. They could make sure their day bags were packed. They could find their shoes which usually took them a minute as there were too many pairs in the dorm. None of those ideas crossed their minds. They were tired and bewildered by the rush and abrupt wake-up call, and neither was able to think straight.

Instead Eunseok continued the joke. He stood up and did the only thing he could think of in preparation for his imminent visit to the shared bathroom. He took off his clothes. All of them.

Shotaro laughed when he saw his friend naked. “What?” Eunseok smirked. “We're in a hurry right?”

“Mind if we share?” Shotaro asked and slowly stood up too. They had done it before and it wasn't a big deal.

“Sure,” Eunseok said and smiled, just as they heard the bathroom door open and Anton stepped into the hallway.

“Finally!” Sungchan exclaimed. He rushed inside and undressed with haste, pushing Anton aside as they bumped into each other in the doorway.

The shower water came on. When Eunseok entered, naked and ready but saw the shower taken, he went to the sink and grabbed his toothbrush. Shotaro followed close behind in his pyjama pants, quickly took them off and motioned for Sungchan to move aside.

Sungchan turned his back on his friend and faced the wall. Side by side they quickly started soaping up.

Sohee had finished eating and popped his head in. “Sorry,” he said. “I'll wait.”

“There's no time,” Sungchan pointed out. “Maybe just skip the shower.”

“No way!” Sohee exclaimed. He really wasn't going to go out in public without feeling fresh.

“Just get in here,” Shotaro said with shampoo in his hair, and pushed on Sungchan's back to make more room.

The shower was big enough to fit them all but there was only one head. They'd have to fight for the water. But considering the rush they were in they wouldn't need to do it for very long. In fact Sungchan was already rinsing soap off his body, slightly lifting a knee while washing his balls.

Sohee undressed and stepped into the water while Shotaro rinsed his face. Eunseok was still brushing his teeth in front of a mirror, secretly glancing at the naked bodies behind him. Anton, who had already had his turn and was the cause of the bottle neck in the first place, was dressed and ready to go when he came back inside the bathroom.

“Guys!” he said loudly which brought everyone to attention.

Sungchan turned around and faced Shotaro and Sohee, their bodies almost touching as the three of them looked up. Eunseok was leaning over the sink and turned his head, the toothbrush still in his mouth.

“What?” Sungchan asked. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Anton's loud tone and playful smirk made him think that something out of the ordinary was up.

Anton held up his phone. “You can relax,” he said and chuckled.

“Why?” Eunseok asked and spat.

“It's canceled,” Anton said.

They all went quiet, froze and looked around at each other. Only the running water made a sound, until Shotaro burst out laughing.

Eunseok frowned and put the toothbrush down. Sungchan rolled his eyes and jokingly slammed the towel onto the floor. And Sohee stopped rinsing his hair and leaned against the shower wall, water flushing down his chest and tummy.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed. Several of the boys started smiling, a sigh of relief suddenly washing over them. Then he looked at Shotaro by his side and smirked. “What the hell do we do now?”

Sungchan couldn’t quite believe it. “Are you serious?” he asked and looked at Anton.

“Yeah,” Anton said and relaxed his posture.

“What happened? Couldn't they have told us that sooner?”

Anton's smile turned naughty. “Actually they did,” he said and giggled.

“When?” Eunseok asked and stood up straight.

“Last night. We got the message just before midnight.”

Several of the naked boys burst out laughing. “What the fuck?” Sohee exclaimed again. Shotaro let our a high-pitched screech.

“That's hilarious,” Eunseok said and looked at his friends still in the shower.

“Oh well,” Sungchan finally said and smiled, then picked the towel back up from the floor. “I guess we don't have to hurry then.”

“No, we don't,” Anton said. “So can you please get out of here so I can finish what I was doing?”

“What, jerking off?” Sungchan asked and playfully snapped the man with his towel.

“No,” Anton said and defended himself with his arms. “But now that you mention it, I kind of want to.”

“Oh no, don't cause another line,” Shotaro said.

Eunseok by the sink turned around and grinned. “What, you wanna jerk off too?” he asked.

Shotaro didn't get a chance to respond. “You can do it in the dorm,” Sungchan said, to neither Shotaro nor Anton in particular.

“Or, we do it together,” Sohee suggested. It was presented as a joke but the thought had crossed his mind before. Shotaro, who stood right next to him, glared at his friend.

”What?” Sohee continued. “We're all naked in here anyway and we all do it.”

Anton, who was the only one with any clothes on, suddenly started undressing. “I'm serious,” he said. “I really need to poop.”

Sungchan pushed his friend on the shoulder when Anton pulled his pants down. “It's too crowded in here, get out.”

“Why are you complaining?” Anton asked. “You're already done.”

“Maybe I wanna jerk off too,” Sungchan said and smirked.

They were all really just having a laugh. The fact that they were no longer under any stress was a relief. Sexual jokes between them were not uncommon, and they had all showered naked together before in various constellations, though never all five of the men currently in the bathroom at the same time.

Sohee, who started the jokes, became quiet and suddenly turned to face the wall. Maybe it was the sense of joy and relief which caused his body to react. Maybe it was all the talk about masturbating. Maybe it was even the sight of all his friends so close together in the nude.

Whatever it was he suddenly felt a boner forming. It took him by surprise and for a moment he didn't know what to do with it. His brain was still in a bewildered state, stuck between being half asleep and wide awake as a result of the morning’s abrupt time pressure, and taken aback by his growing dick.

It made him panic on the inside. He quickly figured there was no way out of this. He tried to focus his mind to get the boner to go down rather than expand but it didn't work. He couldn't just stand with his back to the others for very long though, and he realized it was only a matter of time before they'd notice what was going on. If and when they saw his half-hard – soon to be fully erect – dick he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

It was better to take control of the situation. So, without really thinking, he grabbed his semi boner and swirled around.

“Let just do it,” he said with confidence. Once his brain accepted what his body was doing and embraced it, the boner quickly grew to full size.

It took the others a few seconds to register what they were witnessing. Sungchan was first to laugh and took a step back. Shotaro reacted spontaneously and in amused self-defense by smiling, screaming in a high-pitch voice, and giving the dick right next to him a slap. “Down!” he jokingly said as if telling off an animal jumping at furniture.

Eunseok by the sink frowned at first, then couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear. And Anton was the last to look because he was busy taking his socks off – the final piece of clothing on his body before he was naked too, which was weird considering all he said he was going to do was take a dump.

Of the four men who glared at the fifth, two immediately felt a tingle between their legs. They'd all seen each other naked before, and some of them had showered together in the past to save time. They had all masturbated at some point while the others were nearby, considering the cramped space they all shared. Shotaro, Sungchan and Anton had even done it quietly while the others were in the same room sleeping, though never at the same time. And Anton and Sohee had even done it together once, each in their own bed but fully aware what the other was doing.

In short, they were young men living in close quarters, and naturally they had all seen and heard things. But this? This was new. It hadn't even been joked about. Now the four men looking a Sohee all asked themselves the same questions: What the fuck is he doing?

And a range of follow-up thoughts popped up in their heads: He’s crazy! That’s so weird. But why does this turn me on so much? Could we? Should we? Do I want to? Is this really weird? What's the harm?

They stood in silence for a few seconds, each realizing that they kind of wanted to. But they were equally embarrassed by their dirty thoughts and worried about how the others would react.

Would they tease and make fun? Highly likely, hence no one wanted to take the first step. Though technically Sohee already had. And as they mulled this over in their heads, that’s when they heard the front door open.

The sound of someone entering the dorm made Anton instinctively swirled around and close the bathroom door. They heard footsteps outside, and Wonbin's voice as he called out for them: “Guys?”

They all looked at each other with big eyes and expressions of horror. Then as they realized their situation they tried hard to hold their laughter in.

“Guys?” Wonbin called again.

The footsteps passed by outside, as Wonbin went to check the bunks.

“Guys, where are you?”

Then he opened the door to the bathroom and popped his head in.

He stood in stunned silence for a moment. The others were grinning and holding their breaths. Sohee in the shower and Eunseok by the sink were rock hard and Wonbin immediately saw. It only confused him further.

“What the hell?” he asked and stared wide-eyed at his naked friends. He didn't know if he should laugh or be concerned or jealous that he hadn't been invited to… to whatever this was.

The others couldn't keep it together any longer. They all burst out laughing, loud and in unison, a joyous sound cramped up by a strong sense of shock and horror, so infectious it made Wonbin laugh out loud too. He wasn't quite sure why and had no idea what was going on.

“What are you doing?” he asked and looked away when he caught himself staring at one of the boners.

“Where the hell have you been?” Sungchan asked sternly, dodging the question. He was the one who had been running around trying to get all the others organized and ready.

“I went for a walk since the press conference was canceled,” Wonbin said calmly.

“When did you find out?” Shotaro asked. He was starting to relax but felt cold, and slowly rubbed his chest and stomach as he took a step closer to Sohee who was hogging all the water.

“That it was cancelled?” Wonbin asked slightly confused.

“Yeah.”

“Last night.”

“What?” Anton exclaimed. He was the one standing closest to Wonbin by the door, and when he turned around to face him his friend noticed a third erection and chuckled.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed and took a step back from Anton’s hard dick. Though he was clearly amused by the collection of boners he still couldn't wrap his head around what he was seeing, and what exactly he had walked in on.

“Why didn't you tell us?” Sungchan asked and threw his arms and the towel in the air. He too relaxed and started wiping his wet body.

“You didn't know?”

“No!” Eunseok exclaimed and instinctively – without really thinking about it – started stroking the shaft in his hand as he leaned with his ass against the sink.

“I thought we all got the message.”

Shotaro and Sungchan – neither of who were hard – looked at each other and giggled.

“We probably did,” Sungchan admitted. “But we're idiots. We didn't realize until just now.”

“Okay,” Wonbin said. He stuck out a finger and pointed around the room. “Sooo… you wanna explain this?”

The five naked men looked around at each other, smiling, smirking, but at a loss for words.

“I don't think we can,” Sungchan eventually admitted.

“We were in a rush,” Eunseok said, a failed attempt that didn't explain anything at all. “I’m just brushing my teeth.”

“I’m just showering,” Shotaro said and shrugged.

“I just wanted to poop,” Anton chipped in and rolled his head while grinning.

“I'm just horny and wanna jerk off,” Sohee said proudly to make a joke, but no one really knew if he was joking.

Several of the others laughed at the shameless statement. Eunseok looked down at Sohee's dick and hand, and playfully started stroking his own a little faster. Their eyes met and they smiled naughtily.

Anton, who was hard too, found it super funny how confusing and strange this must be to Wonbin. But when he saw Eunseok and Sohee slowly pleasuring themselves his face turned serious and he joined them in the action.

This, in turn, brought Shotaro over the edge. He had felt a slight tingle and now it intensified. Seeing his friends suddenly hard and stroking themselves did things to his body too. He felt an erection coming on, and just as Sohee had before, he immediately panicked on the inside.

Sungchan noticed the change of expression on Shotaro's face. He was having the same kind of hesitation, and partly to himself but while looking at his friend he said: “Let's just do it. We all want to.”

“Hold up,” Wonbin said and tilted his head to the side. “Do what?”

“Jerk off,” Eunseok said loudly and added: “Take your clothes off and get in here.”

There was laughter throughout the room again. Naughty giggles, curious thoughts and excited heart and dicks. No one was against the idea, but no one took it very seriously either.

Shotaro met Sungchan's eyes. His dick was half-hard by now and when he realized he wasn’t the only one who was excited about the idea he stopped worrying about it. “It's not like we've got anything better to do,” he said and shrugged.

Sungchan nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said, then turned to look at Wonbin and smiled again. “Come on, get hard and get in.”