#Stop Abuse Sweatshirt

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 1: Linked Here | Part 2: Linked Here | Part 3: Linked Here | Part 4: Linked Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out, Smut

🚫🔞THIS IS AN ADULT BLOG CONTAINING EXPLICIT CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, A18+ ONLY.🔞🚫

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, lemon, hand job, vague references to Shoto being abused by family, reader experiences anxiety

Link to My Master List

Your alarm wakes you from a restless sleep. You blearily slap at your phone until it stops beeping and you sit up in bed.

Deep in your bones, you feel upset.

But why? Your fuzzy brain can’t seem to put all the pieces together from the night before. Then in a flash you remember – the text. The sweatshirt. YaMomo.

Oh, right. You had drifted off around 4 am after hours of agonizing and pacing around your tiny dorm room.

Maybe it was all just a weird dream? You reach out your hand and grope along your side table until you find it – Shoto’s phone. You scoop it into your arms and tap it to reveal his bland blue-sky screensaver. There are two texts on the screen – one from you, and one from Momo Yayarozo.

Momo: “Hey Shoto, you left your sweatshirt in my dorm room yesterday evening. Come pick it up tomorrow? Good night.”

Okay so this is really happening. For what feels like the billionth time, you review the facts in your head.

Fact #1: Shoto and Momo are friends. They have always been fairly close and supportive of each other.

Fact #2: Shoto left some clothing in Momo’s room. And it’s a sweatshirt – not a super strange piece of clothing to leave in a friend’s room, right? But regardless, the text indicates that Shoto has physically been in YaMomo’s room.

Fact #3: Momo is hot. That feels relevant to list out here. But you don’t know if Shoto personally finds Momo hot, which is an important detail in this investigation.

It’s probably nothing…but you can’t help the way that a nervous knot forms in your stomach as you re-read the text message for the umpteenth time. Momo and Shoto have always been…close? But how close?

An image forms in your mind of Momo, her beautiful curvy figure leaning over Shoto during a seemingly innocent study session….You shake your head. No! These are your friends! You can’t assume the worst of them. Also, didn’t you seduce Shoto during a “study session” just last night? It seems a bit hypocritical to look down on someone else for doing the same.

You resolve to confront Shoto about this in the morning, to ask him for an explanation as to why Momo is currently in possession of a Todoroki sweatshirt. As you get ready – putting on your uniform, doing a quick skincare regimen, and brushing your hair - your mind swirls with questions and more than a little doubt.

You open your closet and reach for a box of protein bars that you’ve stashed at the bottom, breaking open the box and grabbing a chocolate chip bar for your breakfast.  You toss the snack into your bag alongside Shoto’s phone. Your emotions are all twisted up in the worst way. You’re simultaneously anxious and angry. But what exactly you’re angry about, you can’t put your finger on – are you angry about the situation, about Shoto’s potential two timing? Or are you angry at yourself for agonizing over the whole thing? You’re not completely sure, but you know for a fact that your lack of sleep isn’t doing anything to help.

Scowling, you march out of your dorm room and through the common area, ignoring the various “good mornings” of your friends as you go.

“Damn what crawled up Y/N’s ass and died this morning?” you hear Sero say loudly to Mina and Ochaco as you trudge down the stairs and out onto the quad. You’re too sleep deprived and pissy to care.

As you walk, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You fish it out and look at the screen where a barrage of texts alerts take up residence on your bright lock screen. It’s your group chat with Toru and Mina, appropriately labeled “Girlie Squad.”

Toru: Y/N! What’s the deal!?

Mina: Is everything okay?

Toru: So totally rude of you to ignore us!

Mina: You look like death.

You ignore them; you don’t have the wherewithal to make up an excuse for your sour mood. You make a mental note to respond before class so they don’t suspect that anything too crazy is going on with you. Your phone buzzes again, and you’re about to text the group to back off when you notice that – oh! It’s Honenuki this time.

You open the message and see that he’s linked you to a new song. You click through and it brings you to “This Must Be the Place” by the Talking Heads. You type out a quick text.

Y/N: You moved on to the 80s?                    

Honenuki: Ha. Yeah, 80s New Wave is the vibe this week. You like the Talking Heads?

Y/N: Yeah I’m a fan. “And She Was” is a favorite of mine.

Honenuki: A woman of taste! How’s you’re week going Y/N?

Y/N: Eh kinda crappy. Classes have been crazy, and I’m in a bad mood. You?

Honenuki: *typing*

Honenuki: Yeah the hero course has been tough lately. Maybe this will help.

He sends you another song, this time its “I’m Walking On Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves.

Honenuki: A serotonin boost. Don’t let a tough week take away your sunshine, ‘kay? Hope the day gets better!

Y/N: Thanks dude, hope you have a good one too.

You smile down at your phone. Huh, Honenuki’s actually kind of cool. You’ve got a sneaking suspicion that Class B isn’t as bad as Monoma’s immature behavior has lead you to believe. As it turns out, they’re all sort of normal. The anxiety is still bubbling around in the pit of your stomach, but having so many friends be concerned about you lessens it a tiny bit. Mina, Toru, Honenuki. It’s nice to have people looking out for you. You hope that after the conversation you’re about to have that Shoto can be a member of that list.

You have a feeling you know where Shoto is this morning, and you’re determined to confront him there.

You walk across campus in the early morning sun, dew sticking to your shoes as you plod across the damp, freshly mowed grass. You come to one of the training gymnasiums and let yourself inside. The ground floor is comprised of a gym entirely dedicated to the peers in your year. It has a ton of exercise equipment and training gear, and is open most hours of the day.

You push open the big double doors to the gym and find Todoroki in the far corner. It’s extremely early and it looks like Shoto is the only guy from your year who chose to get some reps in this morning.

He’s wearing athletic gear – basketball shorts and a tight fitting tank top – and he’s covered in sweat. He shines in the lowlight of the gym, skin glowing as he bicep curls a massive free weight in each arm. He looks like a Greek god, his physique is glorious and his muscles flex with practice skill. If you weren’t so upset, you’d worship at his feet.

He hears the door open and looks up with a start, uncurling his arms in a way that shows off his workout pump. Fuck his body should come with a warning label like: Caution: Extremely hot, do not approach unless you’re prepared to drop your panties.

“Y/N?” He says with wide-eyed surprise. He moves to put down the weights and reaches for a small white towel. He wipes the sweat off of his gorgeous brow and looks at you, confusion in his eyes. You don’t typically lift in the mornings, and you’re already in your school uniform.

You approach him briskly, your steps precise and sharp as you maneuver around various machines and pieces of workout equipment. Your steps echo in the expansive space.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, tilting his head to the side like a dog. He’s so cute you almost forget that you’re mad at him. Wordlessly, you reach into your bag and pull out his cell phone.

“Oh, my phone.” He says blankly. “That’s right, I left it in your room, didn’t I?” He reaches out and accepts the cellular device from you. “Mr. Aizawa caught me on the staircase, so I couldn’t come back to get it. I got a detention, but I don’t think it will be too bad. Thank you for bringing this back to me.” He slides the phone into his short’s pocket without a second glance.

“Did you come to workout with me?” You see there’s a hint of eagerness in his face. He slowly turns around and looks to a pile of free weights in the corner. “What weight would you like to start with? I can go get some for you.”

Before he can turn to walk away, you reach out and grab his shoulder. You feel the definition in his muscles and it makes your knees weak for a moment. Goddamn, girl. Get yourself together here. Cut to the chase.

“Why is YaMomo texting you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level. “She said you left your sweatshirt in her room.”

Shoto doesn’t seem phased by this. He calmly removes his phone from his pocket and opens up his messages.

“Oh, she did text me. Thanks Y/N.” He types something back to Momo and hits send before pocketing the phone once more. You stand there in disbelief as he acts like nothing odd has happened.

“You’re in your uniform. Do you want to go and change? There’s still plenty of time before homeroom if you want to get a few reps in. I can spot you if you want to do some deadlifts.” He says helpfully, using the towel again to wipe off his perfectly formed shoulders. “I never see you workout in the mornings, did you come just to see me?” He smiles mischievously, but you can tell that he’s genuinely thrilled that you’ve joined him.

“Shoto.” You say, ignoring his offer. “Why did you leave your sweatshirt in Momo’s room?”

“Hmm.” His expression crinkles a bit as he thinks back. “I guess I must have taken it off while we were studying. Her room is pretty stuffy. She has way too much furniture crammed into her dorm. I told her she should get a smaller bed.”

“So when you were with her…you were just ‘studying’?” You prompt, annoyed that he doesn’t seem to grasp the gravity of the situation here. Is he trying to pull one over on you?

“Yes. We did a short review of the quadratic equations we’ve been working on in class this month. YaMomo put together a review session for Kaminari, Jiro and I. Well mostly for Kaminari, but I still found the material helpful.” He stretches, hands behind his head. “Would you like to join our next math review? Momo makes quite a good teacher. She’s a great friend for organizing so many study groups.”

You look at him in disbelief, your jaw hanging open. Oh my god. OH. MY. GOD. Did you stay up half the night blowing A TEXT completely out of proportion!? Holy crap did you just spend hours worrying and agonizing and imagining fake scenarios over absolutely NOTHING!? You’re enraged with yourself. How could you let one tiny text absolutely destroy you like that? You’re supposed to be a level-headed hero! And right now you’re acting like some kind of lovesick middle schooler. Grow the fuck up Y/N! This is not how a normal person acts!

You’re absolutely spiraling inside, ashamed of the way you’ve been absolutely tearing yourself apart worrying that Shoto had two timed you with Momo. How silly. How ridiculous. Shoto and Momo are both you’re friends and somehow your horny Neanderthal brain made them both into enemies at the drop of a hat. You feel like an awful person for thinking of Shoto and Momo in such a horrible light.

“What’s wrong?” Shoto says slowly, bringing you back to reality. Your head is absolutely spinning. You’re exhausted and shaky, anxiety still coursing through your veins. Shoto shuffles forward to get a closer look at you, concerned. He reaches out to put a hand on your waist. “Are you not feeling well?” His voice is tinged with concern and he’s looking at you with such warm eyes it makes you want to die.

“I’m feeling fine.” You snap, and Shoto instantly flinches away at your sharp tone. He recoils almost like a child that’s been admonished. His exposed fear at your harsh words makes you feel even sicker to your stomach. It makes you wonder again at how he’s treated at home. You have so many emotions flowing through you at once that you aren’t sure how to respond. Embarrassed, exhausted and unsure of yourself, you turn and walk away.

“Y/N – wait! What’s wrong?” He calls after you as you quickly weave around the gym equipment.

“I’m fine.” You say again in a clipped tone, not having the strength to look back at him.

You leave Shoto confused and alone in the large space.

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You stomp your way to the classroom building. Your stomach is riling and you have too many emotions to count.

You text Mina and Toru in your group chat. You send them a vague excuse about waking up on the wrong side of the bed or some shit. Mina responds that she didn’t sleep well either and Toru sends a heart emoji. You assume all is forgiven.

Much to your class’s surprise, Recovery Girl is standing in Mr. Aizawa’s usual place when you all arrive.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Toru whispers as she takes her seat. You ignore her, still stewing. You can’t make sense of your feelings right now…why are you so damn angry? You’re certain that Shoto is telling the truth – it was just a study session in Momo’s room. You could easily ask Kaminari or Jiro to corroborate his story.

It’s not the study session that’s making you angry though…it’s the way you stayed up all night obsessing about Momo and Shoto’s friendship. The potential hookup. What it would mean if Shoto was seeing other people, despite your discussion about keeping the intimacy monogamous.

You’re embarrassed and ashamed. And now you’re even more abashed of the way you spoke to Shoto.

“Hello class. Aizawa had to take the morning off to attend to some personal matters, so we’re going to dive into our first Sex Ed lesson today ahead of your English class.”

The class groans.

“Don’t worry everyone, this one is quick. It’s just a stepping stone to our larger conversations.” She says kindly, peering up at them through her thick glasses. “Today we’re just going to chat about interpersonal relationships, specifically about how boundaries and strong communication can lead to stronger relationships. This is going to play directly into your friendships, into your hero work, and, eventually, into intimate relationships as well.”

“Who knows what a boundary is?” She looks around expectantly, but no one raises their hand. Everyone is too nervous to engage. She sighs. “Alright, well to start: when we set a boundary, we establish clear limits or guidelines about how we want to be treated. We may define what behaviors are acceptable to us or not. Can anyone think of a good example of what a boundary may be?”

Uraraka raises her hand. “Could a boundary be asking someone not to call you a certain name? Like if Midoriya told Bakugo that being called ‘Deku’ was crossing a boundary for him, it would be wrong of Bakugo to continue using the name, right?”

“Keep my name out of your mouth, pink cheeks!”

“Sounds like Bakugo is crossing the name calling boundary already!” Mina calls out mockingly, and Katsuki looks at her with eyes full of fire and brimstone.

“Settle down! Yes, Uraraka. That’s a good example of a boundary. Boundaries can also be physical or emotional. I’ll give some applicable examples: during training you may feel the need to tell your sparring partner that you aren’t comfortable with your face or chest being touched. In a friendship, you might set a boundary with that person requesting that they not share private personal information about you with other friends. In a dating relationship, you may set boundaries surrounding physical intimacy. The boundaries you set depend on your feelings and needs, as well as the relationship. The most important part of boundary setting is clear communication. Be direct about your feelings and need for a boundary, and don’t be afraid to verbally reiterate to reinforce the boundary. Any questions?”

You see Shoto’s hand lift towards the ceiling. You look over at him and your stomach rolls.

“Yes, Shoto?”

“Say a friend is mad at you, and you’re not sure why. Can I set a boundary in the future requesting that they be direct with me and communicate their feelings as clearly as possible?” He looks straight ahead, careful not to meet your eyes.

Recovery Girl’s mouth quirks a bit. “That is…an oddly specific question.”

She thinks about it for a moment then smiles at Shoto. “But yes, setting clear boundaries surrounding your communication needs is perfectly reasonable. A good step would be to meet this friend in a neutral area and to request that they have an open and honest conversation with you about how they are feeling and why. Tell them that in the future, you would like to have an open line of communication with them and that it upsets you when you don’t understand their feelings. Be sure to underscore that you want to understand them better, and you care about them. Of course, it is important to note that sometimes your boundaries will not be considered or respected. Your friend may not be willing to sit down with you and have a conversation. All relationships are complex and everyone has their own needs that they want met. The best we can do is be respectful of one another and try to approach difficult interpersonal situations with as much empathy and grace as possible.”

Shoto considers this, and nods with understanding.

“Does anyone else have a question about boundaries?”

Mineta raises his hand but begins speaking without being called on. “I think we all know that my boundaries are to see as much of the girls’ boobs and butts as I can. If the ladies of the class could all respect my boundary by having their assets on display as much as possible, it would be much appreciated.”

The lesson ends there.

Mineta is sent to the Principle’s office and Recovery Girl gives them a long lecture about respect and body autonomy. Present Mic comes in halfway through to start his English class. One look at Recovery Girl’s angry face is enough to send him packing, and he doesn’t pluck up the courage to come back and begin his class until 15 minutes have elapsed.

You think about Shoto’s question and feel a stab of shame. Shoto isn’t the best at understanding people, and he comes from a volatile home life where it sounds like his father’s anger is often weaponized. Of course he’s hurt and confused at your seemingly mysterious anger towards him. You wonder if he’s full of anxiety as well. You really shouldn’t have just left him in the dust this morning.

You glance over at Shoto, but he’s still staring straight ahead. His eyes are focused on Present Mic and the chalkboard, but they look a little glazed over. He’s not taking notes. He’s clearly deep in thought about something. You wonder if he’s thinking about you.

Crap, you really screwed this one up.

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The rest of the day goes by pretty fast. There is the usual blur of classes, training, sparring and lunch. Mr. Aizawa reappears for combat training later in the day. He does not share an explanation as to where he has been. Instead, he doubles down on training and makes everyone work twice as hard as usual.

Shoji lays you out on your ass during said combat training and you’re absolutely sure your legs are going to bloom with bruises later on. He apologizes profusely but you shake it off and tell him it was a great throw. The way you had flown through the air must truly have been a sight to behold, as other students are taking a break from their work to come and check that you are okay. Shoji, still incredibly embarrassed, offers to take you to Recovery Girl for a quick once-over.

You catch Shoto’s gaze watching with concern from across the room where he’s sparring with Tokoyami. The momentary lapse in his attention allows for Dark Shadow to hit him square in the chest. He falls back on his own ass and blinks up at Tokoyami with wide-eyed shock.

“You’ve been woefully distracted lately, Todoroki.” You overhear Tokoyami say to Shoto as he pulls the fallen hero back to his feet. “Is everything okay?”

You feel a mixture of shame and embarrassment pool in your stomach as you realize that you’ve been ruining Shoto’s focus. An anxious, terrible thought creeps into your brain…maybe Shoto is better off without you tangled up in his life. You’re a distraction from his hero training, and he from yours. Plus, you’ve most definitely hurt him with the way you jumped to conclusions and then left him to sit with your angry vibes. Maybe for Shoto’s sake…maybe you need to break this off sooner rather than later? You shake your head in an effort to clear the thought from your mind.

“Y/N…are you sure you don’t want to go to Recovery Girl? You’re definitely going to have some nasty bruises from the way you hit the ground.” Shoji tries one more time. You wave him off, starting to get annoyed at the way everyone is dotting on you. Your nerves are absolutely fried.

“No, no. It was my fault for not breaking my own fall. I need to be more careful. Let’s go one more time – but give me a second or two to practice my counter move so we can see if it would be effective against your dupli-arms.” Shoji nods and squares up to you, giving you a moment to collect yourself and get into a position with more leverage. You train together for a few more rounds of sparring before Mr. Aizawa comes around and adjusts your posture to better protect your body from damage. You’re annoyed at the correction, but grateful for the advice.

After combat training, you shower and roll back to the classroom for your final lesson of the day – math. Ugh. You settle back into your desk, taking out your notebook and pencils and trying to convince your brain to cooperate for one last hour.

During the class, Mina passes you a hot pink post-it note that has two quick sentences scribbled out in her neat script: “Stage Two: Rendezvous in the Library at 8pm. Be sure you aren’t followed.”

You roll your eyes at her and tuck the note into your book bag. Mina’s flare for the dramatic could be the thing that blows this whole party operation; you need to keep her in check. You pull out your planner and scribble a quick reminder to meet up with Mina, Toru and Nieto in the evening.

You’re tired and angsty and anxious – to be perfectly honest, you’re not in the mood for a dose of party planning and strategy tonight. In fact, you’d rather take a second, longer shower and spend the evening brooding in your room. You need to figure out how you’ll make things right with Shoto. And you need to determine if hooking up is posing for too much of a distraction to you both. You return to your quadratic equations, morale low and enthusiasm for math crumbling.

The day ends unceremoniously. You pack up your bag, stuffing your notebooks and pens into the small book bag as best you can. Your math textbook peaks out at the top and you can’t zip it all the way. You want to throw it at the wall, you’re so frustrated. What a shitty day it’s been.

Your phone buzzes as you walk through the door. You open it up to see a text from Shoto.

Shoto: Y/N. I don’t understand why you’re upset with me. Will you walk with me back to the dorms so we can discuss your feelings?

Ugh. You totally knew this was coming. You turn and see Shoto packing up his own bag back in the classroom. There are a few other stragglers from Class A – you watch as he attempts to hang back. He looks up at you and finally catches your eye. He looks sad, his expressive eyes shining with more than a little hurt. You nod at him before turning back down to your phone.

Y/N: Of course, I’ll wait for you outside of the classroom.

You loiter outside the classroom door for a moment, nodding at your classmates as they pass through the threshold and make their way back to the dorm building. Shoto is the last to exit; his fine brown leather backpack slung over one shoulder. The bright afternoon sunlight shines through the hallway windows and dances upon his fair face. It highlights the bright scar that encircles his left eye, giving it an almost fiery glow. He’s so gorgeous he could be a model.

“I saw you got your ass kicked by Tokoyami today.” You try to joke, but the comment just comes out lame. The two of you start making your way towards the exit, the sunlight streaming across your bare arms and wrapping you in a glow of warmth. The feeling is oddly comforting. You take a few steadying breaths as you prepare yourself for a tough conversation.

“Yes. I was distracted. I saw Shoji throw you to the ground and I was worried that you were hurt.” Shoto says, straightforward as ever. He fixes his gaze on the hallway ahead, not daring to look over at you.

A flicker of anger and madness licks at your insides. You try taking a deep breath to keep your emotions at bay, but you almost can’t help yourself when you snap out: “You can’t worry about me like that. I can hold my own in battle. I got into UA on my own merits, after all.” A beat. “You need to trust that I can handle myself.”

You’re on edge and upset at yourself, and once again today you’re taking it out on poor Shoto. “I’m not some damsel in distress. I’m going to be a hero.” You say with feeling, adjusting your backpack so the straps don’t dig into your shoulders as much. Damn, you’ve got too many books crammed into this thing.

Shoto is silent for a moment. He turns to stare out one of the large sunlit windows, gathering his thoughts. You give him some time. He takes a deep breath before he turns back towards you, his eyes bright.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Y/N. Is that why you’re mad at me – do you feel that I’ve been underestimating your abilities? Because I assure you its quite the opposite. I hold you in such a high regard, you are nothing but impressive to me.” He turns so he can focus his full attention on you, his mismatched eyes fit to burn a hole through your heart. The kind words roll off of his tongue sweet like honey, and you believe him. He thinks so highly of you. You’ve always known this. And yet, you needed him to repeat it. You need to be reminded, or else the anxious thoughts will have you in a chokehold.

“I truly think you are amazing.” At his words, the prickly anxious energy surrounding your heart and mind dissipates a bit.

“Shoto…I’m not mad at you. I’m not even sure how to explain why I was so dismissive of you this morning.” You say, trying your best to pin down a few of the swirling thoughts in your mind.

“Can you try?” He asks softly. “Recovery Girl said that I should be direct and ask questions. I would like to have an open line of communication with you, because I care about you and it has been hurting me all day that I can’t understand the way you’re feeling. Are you willing to discuss this?”

“Of course Shoto.” You say, trying to come up with the right words to describe your feelings. Your whole body aches from your sparring session with Shoji, and you’re so tired you feel like you could shut your eyes and fall asleep where you stand. Talking about feelings is the absolute last thing you want to do right now, but Shoto deserves an explanation and an apology. You try to adjust your backpack straps again, but it does nothing to alleviate the stiffness in your back.

“Here, Y/N. I know you’re a strong hero and that you can hold your own, but please let me help you with your backpack. It looks uncomfortable.” Shoto reaches out and slips the backpack strap off your shoulders. You feel instant relief – you lift your arms high over your head and feel your shoulders crack as you stretch out the muscles.

“Thank you. I’m not feeling my best.” You continue to run through some basic stretches and roll out your muscles as you explain how shocked you were to see the text from Momo come through the night before. “I wasn’t snooping on your phone, I promise. I would never violate your privacy like that. But I flipped it over and saw the message. I misinterpreted Momo’s text…I thought that when she said you’d left your sweatshirt in her room…well I thought it implied that the two of you had hooked up.”

Shoto’s eyes grow round with surprise, his eyebrows shoot up into his neat two toned hair. “You thought that Momo and I…?”

“Yeah. My imagination and my anxiety went into overdrive and I was up all night wrecked with worry.”

“But Y/N, I told you that I only want to be intimate with you. What reason would I have to lie to you?”

“Anxiety is a brutal thing. I spiraled out of control and assumed the worst. And then when you had a perfectly reasonable explanation for why your sweatshirt was in her room…I was ashamed at how upset and needy I let myself get over the whole thing.” You hang your head in shame, unable to look him straight in the face. “I was up most of the night anxious about the situation and I let it consume me. I was mad at myself, and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry Shoto, that was wrong of me.” Your eyes focus on the floor beneath you.

“Y/N.” You feel Shoto’s hand reach out to take your own. It’s his cool hand – it feels refreshing to have your fingers wrapped around each other in the sunny glare of the wide UA windows. “It’s alright. I’m not upset with you. That makes a lot of sense, and now I understand why you feel the way you do. But I hope you believe me when I say I only want to be intimate that way with you.” He rubs his thumb across your hand lightly, the gentle touch sending goose bumps up your arms. “I like Momo as a friend – but that’s all. I promise.” He squeezes your hand lightly, a physical manifestation of his assurance.

You look up into Shoto’s face and his gaze is open, warm. He repeats: “I’m not upset with you.”

“But you should be!” You burst out, nerves still buzzing. “I was so cold to you this morning, and I clearly hurt your feelings.” You pause, your emotions welling up and bubbling too close to the surface for comfort. “And…and I’m too much of a distraction to you. Ever since we started hooking up, you’ve been less engaged in class and in training. I just can’t stomach the thought of holding your hero training back because you’re too focused on me.”

This is clearly not what Shoto was expecting you to say, because his mouth hangs open in surprise. He stands in the hallway, flabbergasted.

The hallway is silent, save for simple notes of birdsong wafting through a nearby open window.

Shoto looks at you now, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, Y/N…I am going to ask you a question and I don’t want you to think I’m being demeaning here. But…when was the last time you had a full night’s sleep? You look exhausted.”

You blink at him, confused for a moment. But then you realize its true – you’re utterly drained and you haven’t gotten a good nights’ sleep all week. In between late night study sessions and your hookups with Shoto, you’ve really been burning the midnight oil. And then, of course, there’s the way you’d kept yourself up the night before agonizing over the text from Momo…

“It’s been a while.” You say slowly.

“I think that maybe you need to relax a bit. I’m not mad at you. You’re not distracting me. In fact, you’ve done nothing but enhance my life since we’ve started seeing each other more…intimately. You let me just be myself around you. I can’t convey to you how much that’s helped me lately. I need you to believe that.”

You nod. He’s being far too kind to you.

Shoto uses his free hand to check his phone for the time. You see his boring blue sky phone background light up briefly before he re-pockets the device.

“It’s 4:00 right now. Do you have time to rest before dinner?” He asks gently, squeezing your hand again.

“Yes. I don’t have anything planned until 8 o’clock tonight.” You say, thinking back to Mina’s note.

“Good. Then I’m escorting to your room and enforcing a mandatory nap.” He uncouples your hands and marches forward towards the dorms. You follow behind; head foggy with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Shoto isn’t mad at you.

Within minutes, you’re back in the Class A dorms. Most of your classmates are scattered across the campus – fitting in some last minute training in the gym or working through homework in the library. You feel guilty – you should be in one of those places, too. You need to work towards your goal of becoming stronger, becoming a hero. You voice these concerns to Shoto as he leads you through the empty hallway and towards your dorm room.

“Heroes need rest, too.” He says simply, dismissing your worries with a wave of his hand. “How can you become stronger if your exhausted?” He has a point there.

You turn your key in the lock and push your door open. The two of you enter the tiny dorm and you lock the door behind you. Shoto places the two backpacks on the floor near your desk and turns to you expectantly.

“Where do you keep your comfortable clothes?”

“Um, in the second drawer on the right.” You direct.

He moves to your dresser and opens the aforementioned drawer, drawing out a pair of cream-colored sweatpants and a grey tank top. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the pieces are not a matching set. He tosses the outfit in your direction and tells you to change. Meanwhile, he grabs the water bottle off of your nightstand and walks to your tiny bathroom to fill it for you. You hastily change in his absence and throw your worn uniform in your hamper for washing.

Shoto returns with a full water bottle and a damp cloth. He sets the bottle back on your nightstand and tugs you to your bed. You pull down the covers and climb up into the fluffy monstrosity, tucking your cold feet under the covers.

Shoto climbs up with you and sits next to you. He brings the cloth to your face – it’s damp with warm water. He lightly dabs at your cheeks, eyebrows and forehead, refreshing your skin in an insanely sweet gesture. “My mom used to do this for me before I went to bed.” He mumbles under his breath. “It always helped me sleep better.”

When he’s done, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You flush at the tenderness of his actions, overwhelmed with gratitude but feeling unworthy of his gentle attention.

“Drink some water.” He says before sliding off the bed and moving to ring out the cloth in the bathroom sink. You oblige, grabbing your water bottle and taking several large gulps of the cool liquid.

You feel ten times more relaxed than you had in class today. The loose clothes feel comforting on your aching body, and your face feels fresh and clean from Shoto’s attention. You lay your head down on your soft pillow and exhale deeply.

Shoto exits the bathroom, shaking the excess water from his hands.

“I’m sorry to be such a burden to you, Shoto.”

Shoto looks at you with a piercing gaze, almost angry.

“Y/N. I care about you – it is not a burden to take care of you when you need it. All I ask is that you are more open with your feelings next time. Don’t bottle things up and keep me in the dark.” He walks over to his book bag and reaches inside to grab one of your English class books – The Great Gatsby.

“Alright…I can be more open with you for sure. I’m sorry I was so harsh and mysterious this morning, I was processing too much and I got myself all worked up thinking that you and Momo had…well, you know.”

“Momo and I are good friends. You and I are also good friends but we have a more intimate relationship. There is nothing to be jealous about. As I said - I don’t care for Momo in the same way that I care for you.” He states simply, climbing back up beside you with his book in hand. “Here, turn onto your side and I can use my quirk as a heating pad on your back like last time.”

“You sure? I don’t need you to go to all this trouble…” You trail off as you feel his calloused hand works its way under your tank top. He spreads his fingertips wide as he cradles your lower back in his powerful hand. You feel him slowly start to modulate his temperature and the heat feels delightful against your aching muscles.

“Let me do nice things for you. I want you to relax. Now close your eyes and take a nap – I’ll wake you up before dinner.” He settles in next to you and you turn onto your side to give him better access to your back. He adjusts his position and props himself up against a few of your plushies. He flips his book open with his free hand and starts to read, brow furrowed in concentration.

You drift off, drawing comfort from the heat of Shoto’s left hand. You feel your muscles relaxing into his warm touch, the pains of the day melting like butter on a hot plate. You stretch out your legs into a more comfortable position and bury your face into your pillow.

“Thanks Shoto.” You sigh, letting your heavy eyelids drop. You feel so comfortable and safe; it’s not hard to let yourself fall into a soft, dreamless sleep.

True to his word, Shoto wakes you up two and a half hours later with a gentle shake of your shoulder. You blink up at him, bleary eyed. He smiles down at you, eyes soft as ever. It’s funny that you’ve never really noticed this – his face can be so blank and stoic, but all of the emotion shines through his pretty mismatched eyes.

“Did you have a good nap?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your brow before getting to his feet.

“Yeah…I feel like a totally new person.” You say. And its true – you feel refreshed and 90% better than you had earlier this afternoon. Your training aches and pains are still present, but have subsided a bit under Shoto’s gentle heat. Shoto hands you your water bottle and encourages you to take a few more gulps before getting out of bed. You indulge him, making a show of draining the bottle before you slide out from under the covers. You stand and wrap your arms around him, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder. “Thank you Shoto.”

Shoto returns the hug, taking care to run his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture. “We take care of each other.” He says simply.

“How’s the book?” You ask as he breaks the hug and walks to his backpack, tucking his copy of The Great Gatsby amongst his notebooks.

“I finished it.” He says, scooping the bag up and onto his shoulders. “I don’t want to spoil the ending for you, but I’ll say this – it’s not a happy book.”

“Oh. Well I wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. I much prefer sci-fi to the classics.” This seems to surprise Shoto, his eyebrows quirk up into his bangs in a gesture that’s rapidly becoming familiar.

“Sci-fi? Wow, I learn new things about you every day.” His tone is filled with surprise. “You’ll have to lend me one of your favorites sometime.” He checks the time on his phone, his factory default background glowing in the lowlight. “I should get going so I can drop my bag off in my room before dinner.”

“Hold on a sec – can I see your phone?” You hold out your hand, palm open. He looks at you for a moment, curious.

“Is this something to do with YaMomo again?” He asks, handing you the device.

“Not at all – I just noticed you have a basic-ass phone background. I think we need to change it to be more you, ya know?” You say, opening his Internet browser app and going to Google images.

“Oh, I’ve never really thought about that before.” He says, leaning to look over your shoulder curiously. “What are you thinking?”

“I feel like lately when we talk you’ve revealed that you like ocean creatures. That whale pillow on Pinterest? The Squirtle plushie? You seem to really like the sea vibe.” You say, typing a quick prompt into the search bar under Todoroki’s watchful eye.

“Huh, that’s true. I find the ocean to be very calming. And the creatures are usually cute.” He wraps his arms around you from behind as the image results populate on the screen. “Oh – I like that one a lot.” He points at a tiny thumbnail image and you click to expand it. It’s an old Lisa Frank design depicting two dolphins leaping out of crystal blue water. The art features a rainbow background of colorful corals and palm trees. It’s vibrant and filled with energy, and seems to fill Shoto with excitement as he buzzes behind you eagerly.

“Oh, I like that one too! All the colors are really nice. Let’s see how it looks as your phone background.” You smile as you save the image and set it as Shoto’s phone screen. He gives you a brief squeeze around the middle as he hugs you, bringing his chin down to rest on your shoulder as he watches you work your tech wizardry. You feel warm and fuzzy inside – Shoto is truly opening up to you. It feels like each day you chip away at his stoic exterior to reveal bits and pieces of his true self.

You hold up the phone and he unfurls an arm from where he’s holding you. He brings the phone to his face and smiles down at his new technicolor dolphin lock screen. You reach up a hand to cup his cheek tenderly and he leans into the touch.

“Thanks, Y/N. I really like this.” He says, turning his phone every which way to admire the artwork. He’s always surprising you. You’re happy he’s starting to get comfortable showing off his true self.

“Of course, Shoto. You should surround yourself with things that make you happy!” You feel your stomach growl and you remember that dinner is only minutes away. “We should really get going, shouldn’t we?” You both laugh as your tummy rumbles again.

Shoto unwinds his from around your stomach and gets to his feet. “Mind checking to see if the coast is clear? I’ll drop off my bag in my room and then see you at the common area.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You slide off the bed, unlock the door and peer out into the hallway. Thankfully, there’s no one in sight. You have a feeling that most of the class is already down in the common area assisting with dinner preparations.

“All clear.” You give Shoto a goofy little salute before opening the door wide for him to exit. He smiles and leans down to place a kiss on your cheek before booking it down the hallway. He hits the staircase and he’s out of sight in a blink of an eye.

You smile and head back inside your room, moving to change into a top that better matches your sweatpants. It feels nice to be taken care of. You wonder how Shoto knew exactly what you needed in order to feel better. Sometimes he seems so…out of touch. And yet, as soon as you need something he seems to lock in and know just what to do. You suspect that’s the true mark of a hero – seeing someone in need and figuring out a way to help. Who would have thought that Shoto Todoroki would become your own personal hero!?

In the dorm, Class A takes turns cooking with everyone rotating meal prep responsibilities. Tonight, Bakugo, Kirishima and Ida are handling the meal and you know it will be delicious. For some reason, Katsuki has some insane cooking skills. The smell of cooking vegetables wafts up from the kitchen and your stomach growls again in response. You leave your room, ambling down to meet the rest of your class in the kitchen area.

You feel much lighter, much happier. Shoto Todoroki is a goddamn prince of a man.

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“Alright, Mineta. We need you to do this for us.”

It’s 8:05 pm and you, Toru, Mina, Nieto Monoma and Minoru Mineta are all holed up in a study room within the Geography section of UA’s oversized library. Nieto purposefully chose this location for your clandestine rendezvous because “no one at this school studies goddamn geography, so it’s the perfect secret meeting spot.”

Mina had invited Mineta with a secret post it note as well. She had passed him a hot pink note in between classes. The note had implied that the two would be having a private meeting to discuss the “raw romantic tension between them.” Needless to say, Mineta had been extremely disappointed to find you, Toru and Nieto all waiting alongside Mina in the geography study room.

After a few not-so-sincere apologies, Nieto and Toru had gotten right to the heart of the matter and explained their master plan and Mineta’s potential role in it. The small purple classmate had listened intently; nodding as Toru unrolled schematics and Nieto explained timing and strategy. He seems genuinely interested in the party plot, and for a moment you think that he might say yes and help you all pull this off.

“What’s in it for me?” Ah, there’s the kicker alright. He looks around at you all expectantly.

Mina crosses her arms and stares him down. “The gratitude of our class and the joy of knowing you helped out your classmates.”

“No way. I want something out of this.” He rubs his hands together, scheming. “If I’m going to participate in this crazy ass plan so that you all can throw some stupid party, I better get something out of it. So here’s my price - 7 minutes in heaven. With each of you.” He looks at Mina challengingly.

“First of all – that’s 21 minutes in heaven. And second of all – majorly GROSS!” Toru bursts out, turning to you for confirmation. You shake your head in disgust as well, ready for Mina to jump in and negotiate terms.

“Absolutely not.” Your pink friend says, her antenna bristling.

“You’re not really in a position to be negotiating, are you?” Mineta leers up at you all. “After all, you need something from me. You should be grateful I’m even thinking about helping out with your crazy scheme considering how much trouble you got our class in last time.”

Mina makes a sour face. Honestly, he kind of has a point.

“7 minutes in heaven is off the table. Name something else.” She spits out, her dark eyes murderous.

“Fine. I get a kiss from each of you. And I get to grope Hagakure’s ass at least once.”

“What!! Why my ass!?” Toru explodes, waving her arms in upset.

Mineta salivates. “Because I have no idea how juicy it is. Just give me one good squeeze so I can truly know.”

“You absolute perv!” Toru roars, reaching out to grab Mineta and give him a good thrashing. You catch your friend’s invisible hands before she can rain down terror on the little miscreant.

“Hey you’re the ones who want to play Spin The Bottle and watch our classmates kiss. You’re just as pervy as me.” Mineta levels you all with a superior look. “I bet Monoma here is getting something good out of this deal, so why shouldn’t I?” He gestures up at Monoma, who up until now has stayed completely silent. This is all part of Mina’s strategy. Ahead of the meeting, she had advised Nieto to keep his talking to a minimum since its likely Mineta wouldn’t trust him.

“What are they promising you in exchange for your help?” The little creep asks Nieto.

“That’s none of your business.” You say, squaring up to your classmate. You decide to play into his insecurities. All’s fair in love and war, right!?

“Look, Mineta. We need your help to get this party off the ground. You’re the only one who can do this job, and it would mean the world to all of our classmates if you went through with it. You’d literally be hailed as the coolest guy in our class. Isn’t that enough? You don’t exactly have the most social clout at the moment.”

Mineta looks at you for a long minute, clearly weighing all of his options. He seems unfazed by your comment about his “coolness” factor.

“Nope. I want whatever he’s getting.” He points at Monoma, who gives him an unhinged look.

“You Class A stooges are so entitled!” He booms, laughing a bit maniacally. Mina smacks the back of his head to give him a hard reset.

“Stay with us, Nieto.” She turns back to Mineta. “Okay in the spirit of transparency, we are helping Monoma get a kiss during Spin The Bottle. To keep things fair, we can guarantee one kiss for you as well. Tell us who you want to kiss, and it will be delivered upon successful completion of work.”

“Heh.” Mineta smirks evilly. “Fine, I accept your terms. For my kiss I choose…Y/N!” He points directly at you, blood dripping from his nose.

You look at your friends and shrug. Unenthusiastically you say: “Fine. Why not.”

“My ass thanks you.” Toru squeaks out, covering her behind with invisible hands. Nieto glares down at Mineta in disgust, but lets you continue to do the talking.

“If this will get our party off the ground, I’m willing to do it.” You look down at Mineta. “Here are the conditions – It’s gonna be a single kiss. Lips closed, no tongue. No groping. No touching. Lips only. Got that?”

Mineta nods eagerly. “Don’t worry. Once you get one taste of these lips, you’ll be begging for more.” He turns back to Mina, awaiting instructions. “So what do you need me to do?”

You all return to the dorms forty minutes later, with plenty of time to get back to your separate rooms before the curfew takes effect.

A battle plan has been drawn out, and commitments have been made. You have a sour taste in your mouth at the thought of your eventual kiss with Mineta, but sacrifices must be made. After all, the fate of the party of the century hangs in the balance.

You make a mental note to make sure that Shoto is cool with all of this – after all, it would be super hypocritical for you to be jealous of Shoto’s non-existent relationship with YaMomo, and then to turn around and give another guy a peck on the mouth.

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When you finally make it back to your dorm, you’re riding an absolute high. You and your friends are planning the biggest secret party in UA history, and with the kickass strategy you all have developed, you anticipate the whole thing going off without a hitch. Monoma truly is a genius – you can’t wait to see his tightly orchestrated plan come to life. The man truly loves pulling all the strings behind the scenes.

Thanks to your nap, you’re feeling a bit more rested and energized. You text Shoto.

Y/N: Hey Shoto, you up?

Shoto: It’s only 9. Of course I’m awake.

Y/N: Have time to come through? I want to properly thank you for taking care of me earlier.

Shoto: I just finished some homework, I can come over for a bit before curfew.

Y/N: Perf! I have the perfect idea of how I can return the favor and TAKE CARE OF YOU! 👀

Shoto: I’m nervous. The all caps coming from you is aggressive.

Y/N: That was supposed to be cute and flirty 😉 Don’t be scared!! ☠️

Shoto: Ok. I’ll be down in 5.

True to his word, Shoto arrives in a timely fashion. He slips through your unlocked door like a ghost in the night.

“Hey, Y/N. How was your meeting with Mina and…?”

His jaw drops in surprise when he looks up to find you in nothing but your bra and panties. It’s a matching set – midnight blue and lacy around the edges. You’re feeling bold.

“I was trying to think of a way that I could properly thank you for taking such good care of me earlier…” You trail off, reaching behind him to turn the lock to your door.

“…And I came up with an idea. Get on the bed?” You ask sweetly. Shoto wastes no time obeying your request. He hurriedly scrambles onto the bed with the speed of a teenage boy who’s been promised a sexual favor. You climb up after him, lifting the hem of his t-shirt suggestively.

“Clothes off.” You say, tugging at the shirt a bit to see a flash of his perfect stomach before dropping the fabric from your fingertips.

Shoto doesn’t need telling twice – he strips, pulling the shirt over his head with lightening fast reflexes. His perfectly toned abs glow under the fairy lights, and you lick your lips at the sight. He hurriedly slips his sweatpants down his hips and takes them off one leg at a time, still managing to look graceful despite his frantic energy.

He throws his pants out onto the floor, out of sight. He’s wearing a pair of loose grey boxer shorts, his hardening cock already visible through the thin fabric. You reach out a hand to trace along the outline of his pulsing member, causing him to get even stiffer under your teasing touch. He looks down at you with that heaven-piercing gaze. Perfect.

You lean towards him, ghosting gentle kisses along the curve of his pale neck.  “What do you want Shoto?” You breathe wetly into his ear, running your hand down his bare chest. “Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.” You hear Shoto’s breath catch in his throat at the implication. An open ended offer is a valuable thing – you wonder how he’ll use it?

“I’m thinking…maybe you could do that thing with your hands again?” He says sheepishly, pupils blown wide as he watches you palm at his dick over his boxers.

“You mean a hand job? Are you asking for a hand job?” You say, laughing, as he blushes crimson as his hair.

“I guess I am.” He says, breathing shakily. He leans down into your hair and mumbles “It feels so much better when you do it. I’ve been trying to replicate it on my own but…it’s just not the same.”

You smile. “I can definitely do that for you. Tell me, how badly do you want it?” You ask in a tone that’s barely above a whisper. You squeeze his package lightly over the boxers. He almost moans at the touch.

“I want it…so badly Y/N. Please.”

The light begging sparks something in your core and you’re already so wet you fear you may soak through your panties. Again. Wow, this is becoming quite a bad habit of yours.

“Take off the boxers.” You command softly, and Shoto accommodates – stripping down to nothing. Once again, here is thisa beautiful man buck naked in your bed. It’s enough to make you see fireworks behind your eyes.

He sits there, fully exposed, his cock hard and laying flush against his taught muscled stomach. You long to reach out and take him in your hand, but you know you know you need to be patient.

“Shoto, you said you’ve been trying to replicate the hand job I gave you?” You ask amiably. He nods. “I want you to show me how you like to do it on your own. Show me how you touch yourself, Sho.”

He glances up at you uncertainly through thick lashes, looking between you and his cock with trepidation. “Are you sure? Would that not be…weird?”

“Not at all!” You reassure him. “It’s the best way for me to learn how to pleasure you. I want to see what you like so I can add it into the mix. It’s like hero training – we need to learn from each other to be the best we can be.”

This analogy makes perfect sense to Shoto, who understands the importance of training. “Alright. If it would help. But I feel pretty self-conscious right now.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.” You say, placing another string of kisses to his jawline. “Try not to be too nervous. Remember - we’re just having fun and exploring, right?” You pause. “Plus…it would be really fuckin’ hot to see you jerk yourself off in my bed. So know that I’m completely and totally into this. If that helps.”

This makes Shoto smile. “It actually does help.” He laughs softly, turning his head to capture your lips in a brief smooch.

“Right.” Shoto says, drawing in a shaky breath. He looks at you nervously, before glancing down at his erect cock once more. He reaches for it, wraps his fingers around himself and gives a light tug. You watch as he slowly starts stroking at himself, concentrating a bit more on the head here and there. He glances up at you from time to time, letting his eyes roam across your breasts and the gentle curves of your hips.

You move the straps of your bra off your shoulders, giving him a bit of a show before you reach behind you to unclip the bra all together. You toss the fabric to the floor in what’s rapidly becoming a familiar gesture with Shoto. His breath hitches in the back of his throat as his eyes take in your perfect breasts. He picks up his pace, jerking himself off in a succinct rhythm as his eyes devour your chest.

“Come here.” He groans. You scoot towards him in the bed.

“What do you want?” You ask, voice soft but demanding.

“I want your breasts in my mouth. Right now.” He says, not breaking stride as he continues to work at his rock hard cock.

You reposition yourself so that you’re slightly above him and you lean forward. He can’t help himself – before you’ve settled into a comfortable position, he’s captured one of your nipples in his mouth. He suckles on it, using his tongue and teeth to tease the delicate flesh. The pleasure that shoots through you is unquantifiable. You lean into his mouth and your eyes flutter shut as he uses his free hand to give attention to your other tit. The gratification is so good you hope he never stops.

But then you remember – you have a goddamn plan here. You should be watching and learning to see what Shoto likes. Your eyes fly open and you try to ignore the absolutely incredible things this Todoroki blessing is doing to your breasts.

“Shoto…” You try to get his attention. He looks up at you from down where he’s sucking on your tit and cocks and eyebrow questioningly.

“Mmm?”

“Shoto, this is fucking hot, but I’m trying to concentrate. Please – show me what you like and talk me through it.” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, even as he pinches a nipple and rubs the pad of his thumb over the delicate nub with his free hand. After a quick moment, comprehension dawns in his eyes and his mouth releases your boob with a wet “pop!”

“Sorry, I got carried away.” His face is red with embarrassment as you slide to sit next to him.

“Don’t be. I like it when you get carried away. You’re so goddamn hot Sho.” You plant a kiss on his cheek. “Now get back to it – and talk me through what you like.”

Shoto looks down at his cock and resumes stroking it. “So I hold my hand like this around it, see?” He demonstrates how he keeps a loose closed grip around his dick, sliding his hand along the base for a few deep strokes before concentrating around the head. “This part is the most sensitive, so when I want to finish I concentrate a lot here. But first I work myself up by starting down here.” He moves his hand down to the base of his dick to show you. “And I’ll tease myself a little as I work back up to the top.”

“Sometimes, I like to touch my…um…testicles a bit. It feels really nice to kind of…uh this is super awkward to explain…it feels good to move them around?”

“I think I understand.” You say, watching as he shows you how he likes to be played with. You let him work at himself until you see shiny beads of pre-cum form at the head of his cock.

“Okay, my turn to drive.” You say, reaching to shoo Shoto’s steady hand out of the way so that you can replace it with your own. “There we go.” You wrap your hand around his hard cock and start at the base the way he explained. You slowly roll your hand midway up his shaft before bringing it back down to the base. Shoto sighs at the motion, his hips flexing in a way that implies that he’s dying to thrust up into your hand.

You continue to tease him that way, coming closer and closer to the sensitive tip of his cock without truly touching it. You can tell by the expressions stretched across his face that he simultaneously loves and hates what you’re doing to him. You grin; enjoying the control you have as you edge him.

With your free hand, you reach down to fondle his balls, trying to mimic the motion he showed you. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you start to shift his package around, and you can tell from the way he bites back a moan that it must feel so, incredibly good to be touched this way.

Finally, you release his cock and bring your small hand to your mouth. You make a show of licking the palm of your hand before spitting cleanly into it. Shoto’s eyes widen in surprise at the crude gesture, but his cock twitches in anticipation.

You bring your spit-filled hand down to his dick and resume jerking him off – this time starting low at the base and continuing all the way up to the tip. Your saliva allows for your hand to slide and glide in a delicious way that it hadn’t previously. Shoto lets out a curse followed by your name at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” It’s the most you’ve ever heard him curse, and the lilt of his lust filled voice is absolutely sinful. You grin like a Cheshire cat as you stroke him the way he showed you, focusing on the sensitive head. His breathing is ragged, and he’s absolutely wrecked as you continue to run your lubed up hand along the very tip of his rigid member. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to - ”

Shoto orgasms hard - thick waves of hot cum shooting up and flowing over your delicate hand as you continue to work at him. His legs jerk with the suddenness of his climax. His breath hitches in his throat and you fear that he’s stopped breathing as his hips roll up, thrusting his cock into your grip over and over and over. You use your hand to milk him for all that he’s worth, being sure to mimic the way that you had watched him grip his dick earlier in his demonstration. The expression on his face is priceless – his eyes are wide and filled with an expression of rapture, his mouth caught open in a small “o.”

Whatever you’re doing seems to be doing the trick, because it is quite a bit before he catches his breath and politely removes your hand from his spent, pulsing cock. He’s over stimulated and panting, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N, that was…” He’s still breathing heavy.

You reach across him to grab a conveniently placed washcloth off of your nightstand (you had a feeling that you’d be needing some cleanup supplies tonight). You wipe the sticky mess from your hand before giving him the cloth. He gratefully accepts, wiping the cum that’s pooled along the defined planes of his stomach and in the well of his bellybutton. “That was incredible. You take direction so well.” He says, his voice a bit fuzzy around the edges as he drops his head back to rest on your pillow.

You lay back with him, moving your clean hand to stroke his hair slowly. He leans into the touch, eyes heavy and half lidded as he comes down from his high.

“I’m a fast learner.” You say, enjoying the soft texture of his fluffy hair as you flutter your fingers through his dense locks. You lay there for a few minutes, playing with  Shoto’s hair and letting him bask in the afterglow. He’s completely naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle.

“It’s almost curfew…you’d better get going in case Mr. Aizawa makes a bed check appearance.” You say with regret, wishing Shoto could stay with you through the night.

Shoto turns his head and groans into your shoulder. “But I want to stay here forever. It’s so comfortable here with your hands in my hair. And I’m so tired now.” He almost whines. You smile – a month ago you would have never thought Shoto Todoroki capable of whining. 

“I wish you could stay, too.” You coo, continuing to card your fingers through his mismatched locks.

“I like it here. Maybe I’ll move in. Stake claim on all of your plushes.” He reaches out and grabs his favorite plush from behind your head. He holds it close to your face and waves it up and down a few times, pretending to make it dance. “Squirtle, Squirtle.” He says in a strained, warbley voice. You giggle at his goofy attempt at mimicking the water Pokémon.

Afterglow Shoto sure is chatty. He looks so open and relaxed, his facial features at rest.

“Oh my God Shoto…did you finally look up Pokémon!?”

He hugs the plush to his bare chest and laughs. “I watched 12 episodes. I had to keep watching until Squirtle showed up. I would give my life for the Squirtle Squad.”

This cracks you up. You laugh even harder when you look up and see the way that Shoto is sprawled across your bed – completely naked except for the large Squirtle plush clutched to his chest. You point at him and make a little choked squeak. He realizes how ridiculous he looks and soon you’re both in hysterics, gasping for breath. It’s a wonder that no one has knocked on your door yet and asked you to quiet down.

After a few minutes you both calm down enough to catch your breath. You slide off the bed and scoop Shoto’s grey boxers off the ground and toss them in his direction. He drops Squirtle for a moment so he can shimmy into his underwear. Partially clothed once more, he flops on his back and pulls the covers up to his chin. He tucks Squirtle in beside him. You move to get back into the bed and join him, but he holds up a hand and puts on a serious expression. “Sorry – there’s no room for you. This bed is for card carrying members of the Squirtle Squad only.”

You smile and then paste a theatrical pout on your face. “You goof. How does one apply for Squirtle Squad membership?”

“Hmm.” Shoto brings his hand to his chin as if deep in thought. “You need to pay our membership dues. It’ll cost you a kiss.”

“That’s pretty expensive.”

“Squad Membership is well worth the fee, I promise.” He nods stoically, looking over at the Squirtle plush beside him. “Squirtle can confirm.” He gestures at the plush, which stares up at you blankly with its large embroidered eyes.  

“What does Squad Membership include?” You ponder aloud, pretending to think it over.

“If you join up now, I’ll act as your official heat and ice pack.” Shoto holds up both hands above his face as an offering. “And I’ll make you cum whenever you want.”

“Whenever I want?” You repeat. “Now that’s an intriguing offer. I think I’ll take it.” You lean down and cup his soft cheek in your hand, bringing his mouth to yours. Your lips melt into his and you kiss him soundly. He moans into your mouth, moving his lips softly against your own.

It’s wonderful to be with him like this – so open and having fun like regular teenagers. There’s no pressure to put on a brave face and to be strong heroes in training. In these stolen moments, its okay to just be. You break the kiss and pull yourself up into he bed and under the comforter. Within seconds, you’re wrapped up in Shoto’s arms and he pulls you against his bare chest.

“Welcome to the Squad. Your membership is approved.” He places a kiss on your forehead and you snuggle into him. You take a deep breath, letting your tired body relax against Shoto’s solid warmth. 

You lay in silence for a bit, just enjoying each others company. Shoto’s breathing is slow and even. You can tell he’s feeling comfortable and relaxed after his orgasm. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder and huffs into the curve of your neck. After a bit, Shoto gets too warm and uncouples himself from you so he can pull down the comforter a bit.

“You know, I was thinking…” Shoto rolls over onto his back and crosses his arms behind his head. He’s partially naked and gorgeous in the glow of your fairy lights, his pale skin rippling with muscle. He looks up at the ceiling. “Summer training camp is coming up. I heard that this year we are going for 2 weeks. They plan to put us through a week and a half of training, and then we’ll get a few days just to have fun and enjoy being outside. There will be hiking, and campfires…maybe the two of us can sneak off and just have some time together? No curfews, no whispering. No hiding away.” He turns his head to look at you.

“That sounds really, really nice.” You say, reaching over to give him a big boop on his nose. He smiles at the contact. You love seeing him like this – usually he is so closed off and stoic. Every smile you can get out of him is a prize in itself. “I doubt we’ll truly be able to sneak off given how large and damn nosy our class is…but we can definitely try.”

Shoto closes his eyes, a blissful expression etched across his features. “I just picture the two of us on a moonlit hike, just able to enjoy the scenery together. We can listen to the cicadas and the crickets in the quiet of the dark. It’s such a calming thought in my mind. I’d like to share that moment of peace with you.”

“Orgasms make you talk nonsense.” You joke, trying to ignore the way that your heart is squeezing at his words.

He opens his eyes and scans your face. “You’d like that, though?”

“Of course I would, Shoto. It would be nice to get out of the city and to see some greenery. To be together outside of our dorm rooms. I wish that we didn’t need to sneak around so much…I wish that we were older and that we could just do whatever we want without consequence.” You say wistfully, reaching to grab your phone and check the time. “Crap, it’s nearly 10.”

Shoto pulls you into another embrace, shifting his hands around you so he can cradle your breasts. He plays with your nipples a bit, swirling his fingertips around them delicately. You gasp at the contact, your pussy instantly responding to the touch.  “I can’t go yet – I haven’t made you cum.” Shoto whispers thickly into your ear, pinching a nipple with each hand. You make a strangled sort of noise, sliding a hand down between your legs to give your clit a brief pulse to sate the hungry way its pulsing beneath the smooth fabric of your panties.

“Shoto…if you stay any longer and Aizawa comes around, we’re gonna get caught.” You say in a pained voice as he continues to play with your tits. You can’t let this go any further or you both are done for. “Shoto, you’ve gotta go.”

“But it’s not fair if I don’t make you - ” You move to regretfully remove his wandering hands from your boobs.

“I can take care of it myself this time.” You say, in a sultry tone. “And I’ll think of you the whole time.” You turn to look over your shoulder to see Shoto’s face has gone beat red at the implication that you’ll be spending the rest of the evening masturbating to thoughts of him.

He lets out a shaky breath, still clearly uncomfortable with the thought of leaving you hanging. “Alright, Y/N. But next time, the focus is all on you to make up for it. Okay?”

“I think I can live with that.” You smile, and reach behind you to give him a light shove to leave.

Shoto grins softly as he untangles himself from you, climbing over your body to get out of the bed. His feet hit the ground and he stretches languidly before reaching for his abandoned clothes. He pulls his shirt and pants on unceremoniously as you watch, laughing at the way his soft sweatpants stretch back into place over the smooth curve of his ass.

“You’re too cute.” You say, reaching to pull him back to the bed so you can give him one more quick kiss. He smiles into the smooch, wrapping his arms around you in a warm, steady embrace.

“I’ll text you?” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure I take my phone back with me this time.” This earns a laugh.

“Please do.”

“Well, goodnight then.” He kisses your cheek and then makes his way to the door; he peaks out into the hallway before making his usual fast exit. You pray he doesn’t get caught by Aizawa again – he would probably demand an explanation from Shoto.

You lay in your bed, relaxed, staring up at your ceiling. Life sure has been complicated lately – between school, training, an unexpected romance, and the illicit party planning, you sure are having an adventure.

You allow yourself to replay a scene from earlier in your mind: “Fuck, Y/N. Holy fucking fuck.” Shoto curses as you stroke his cock mercilessly, bringing him to the brink of climax. “Shit. Y/N. I’m going to…”

You feel arousal twinge between your legs once again and you bring your fingers down to touch yourself over your panties. You wish Shoto was still here to help – all you can think of is the loving way that he sometimes uses his wet tongue to play with your nipples. You roll over onto your stomach so you can increase the pressure of your fingers against your clit. Mmm. You replay the image of Shoto’s pretty “O” face over and over again as you bring yourself to the brink of climax.

Before long, new thoughts are blooming into your brain. You imagine what it would be like to have Shoto’s fingers on you instead. What would it be like to feel that pretty cock slide inside of you - to be physically filled to the brim with Shoto Todoroki? You’ve never really fantasized about actual act of intercourse before, and you wonder how it would feel to be that connected with Shoto. You picture his voice pitching and sighing as he slides in and out of you, his strong hands bracing on your hips. The thought of Shoto’s thick cock sliding against your wet pussy causes your breath to stick in your throat. Your heart pulses impossibly fast as you use your fingertips to push yourself over the edge, gasping into your pillow. Oh fuck that’s good.

Shoto Todoroki and his hot body are truly going to be the death of you. You can picture your epitaph in your head – “Here lies Y/N. She was brought to the gates at heaven by Shoto Todoroki’s hard cock. May she rest in peace, having known what true ecstasy feels like.”

You smile at that unhinged thought. Your phone buzzes next to you and you flip around the screen to see a text from Shoto.

Shoto: I made it back to my dorm room. Did not get caught this time.

Shoto: Typing.

Shoto: Did you…take care of things?

Y/N: Haha yeah. I just finished. Was thinking about you the whole time.

Shoto replies with a single word.

Shoto: Fuck.

Shoto: Next time, I’ll take care of you myself. I promise.

Y/N: You've already taken care of me so much today, but I’ll hold you to that. ☺️ Goodnight, Shoto.

Shoto: Goodnight Y/N.

You put your phone back on your bedside table and snuggle up in your bed, pulling the Squirtle plush close to you and wishing that it were Shoto Todoroki.

End of Chapter.

---------------------------------

HOLY GUACAMOLE!! This chapter ended up being 30 pages - I know in my last chapter post I said that Chapter 5 would focus on The Party - but y'all all of your reactions to the Chapter 4 cliff hanger made me want to create a more satisfying plot line surrounding the YaMomo text. In short - the comments you leave influence the story a lot more than you'd think! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Shoto's sweet way of taking care of the Reader. I try to make The Reader a pretty general character so that it's easy to self-insert, but she's kind of developing her own personality which is fun too!

Part 6 is already in the works and partially written. I have most of THE PARTY scenes drafted and typed out, and I'm really excited for you all to see what I've been cooking up for this story arc. I also want to lay the ground work for future arcs as well - I don't anticipate this tale ending any time soon! It seems to take me a month/month and a half to churn out each chapter, so please feel free to check out my other work on My Master List as you wait!

I have been so locked in on this Todoroki story that I've been neglecting one shots lately. I hope to finish a little Kirishima focused fic soon, plus I have an idea for a tale surrounding All Might (the working title is gonna be something like "United States of Smash that Ass" idk its gonna be goofy and All Might is gonna have a huge cock or something stupid like that). TLDR: Keep an eye on my blog for more fun content surrounding our other favorite heroes as you wait for Chapter 6!

As always, thank you thank you thank you for all of your positive comments, messages and reblogs of my work. This passion project has brought me so much joy and I love how much joy it seems to bring all of you. Thanks for joining me on this wild ride, excited to see all that happens next!

XoXo, Red Riot Unbreakable Heart ❤️

❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

Want to join or be removed from the tag list - let me know! Once again, this is an ADULT ONLY blog. The IcyThot club is exclusively dedicated to the Shoto's First Kiss series and will only include A18+. Do not request to be added unless you are over 18. I'm also adding the "sexual content" label/tags.

supersecretsamm luvsymai s0uldarling quackledoodleduck

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elizarikaallen stanseventeen signmyheart llymoonju kinichmyman

scaranarav neogogori stoat-a10

[saturngas]

gallery full of you

[🪐] scenarios of gojo's developing obsession of taking pictures of you after a heated session.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: established relationship; big cock gojo; size kink; lewd usage of the phone camera; creampie; breeding kink; p in v; blowjob; my attempt at dirty talk;

word count: 3.2k

...

..

someone's digital gallery was part of their privacy. some people don’t mind showing off their gallery, as they claim they have nothing to hide or be ashamed of. some other people do mind and prefer to even have a password lock to open the gallery app.

some people, like satoru gojo, simply don’t care. if it were up to him, he would exhibit his gallery in a museum, which would be named after you of course, because that's all his gallery is full of. 

hundreds of pictures of his beloved girlfriend, dozens of pictures of his precious of students, and just a couple of pictures of his old friends. 

you were the star in the majority of them. from the early stages of your relationship, to a photo he took just the night before of you in his sweatshirt. 

satoru loved taking pictures of everything around him: a beautifully made strawberry milkshake, you in a new dress, a bee pollinating a flower, a beaten up megumi, yuji with snort coming off his nose, you in your worst angles, a sleeping nanami with a piece of cheese on his forehead. 

many of them were innocent, safe to work, sinless. but the hidden album sitting at the bottom of his gallery app said otherwise. 

numerous pictures, videos, live photos of you in such lewd situations were adorning such obscene album. your face being the cover of most photos, however your shiny skin would also be in repeated media. 

he certainly had developed a habit of taking pictures of you before, during, and after sexy times. your fucked up face making his softening cock stand back up. he loved it. and you loved the attention he gave you. 

and oh how much he would abuse of such dirty album when you were away. either your boyfriend was in a mission overseas or you were out of town, he would often feel alone, his fist running down his sculpted abs while his long fingers danced around the screen, finding a photo or video to jerk off to. 

it had started as an innocent picture taken after one of your first make out sessions. your tall boyfriend wanted to capture the moment forever, engraving it infinitely in the memory of his phone. 

you two were sitting on the couch, both your legs on top of satoru's lap while your arms surrounded his neck, short nails caressing his baby hairs. 

two pairs of blue eyes looked at you with such love and devotion you were feeling your face heat up even more. you noticed the smeared lipstick on your boyfriend's flush lips and you giggled. 

"what's so funny, princess?" he smirked. 

"mmh, nothing, prince charm," you returned the smirk while tucking a few strands of white hair behind his red ear. "it's just my lipstick that's all over your face."

"oh?" satoru dramatically faked a gasp. "are you sure it's yours, sweet cheeks? mmm, could be mine, I use cherry flavored," he joked while taking one of his hands off your waist and stroking his thick thumb over your lips, ruining the little rest of your remaining lipstick. 

"toru stooop," another giggle escaped your mouth while you pushed his larger hand away. you grabbed the glossy lipstick from the table and applied it on, using satoru's black glasses to see your reflection. 

as soon as you finished, your mouth went flying to your boyfriend's face, loud kisses pressing on his rosy cheeks and corners of his lips. the tall man couldn't help but letting out a fit of boyish snickers while tightening his grip on your waist. 

his mouth would chase after yours before you would kiss another area of his pretty face, leaving no place untouched. until your lips finally landed on his.

colored lips painting smeared ones. you would swallow the agitated moans from your boyfriend, who couldn't stop his hands from roaming through your entire upper body and legs. wet sounds coming from your twirling tongues and spit-coated lips touching each other. 

satoru's mouth opened slightly, giving you space to explore his wet cavity with your muscle, the position you were in helping you hold onto his face to let your tongue work. 

after exchanging such quantities of saliva, you finally pulled away as satoru's whines filled your ears. 

"that was so hot, muffin' cake... got my dick all hard," he panted and you blew him a kiss while caressing his pretty face. you wanted to eat him. 

"you look pretty with my lipstick all around your face, toru," you placed a small smooch on the tip of his nose. 

your boyfriend could only grin wider as his hand went flying to his packet to grab his phone, opening the camera app to see himself on the screen. 

his usually wan skin was all pink. pale pink from his overspreading blush and a glittering magenta pink from your lip gloss. 

he couldn't help but snap a picture of himself and then two more of you in frame. one with you jutting out your kiss bitten lips while grabbing his chin. the other from a high angle where your entire bodies were displayed, his other hand grabbing firmly your waist while your arms were again around his neck, a big smile on both of your flushed faces. 

as your walls were clenching around satoru’s aching cock, the only thing on his mind was how good you made him feel. your warm face displayed on his view as you sat below him, your body moving at the rhythm of his hammering thrusts. 

"ah ah ah, toru," you panted while repeating his name like a mantra. the filthy aroma coming from the drying cum on your inner thighs filled your nostrils. satoru had already came on you once, and he was going big with a second one and probably a third one. 

"yeah, yeah... you take it, baby, c'mon, I know you can take another one," you could only tighten your grip around his length at his words, making him crunch his face cutely and moan loudly. 

you grabbed his biceps in a hurting hold when he increased his speed, pounding and beating your poor pussy, as if making sure his cock went all the way up your lungs. his mushroom tip caressing deliciously your cervix, his throbbing veins kissing your overly sensitive inner walls, the perfect curve of his lengthy cock molding your vagina in a way that made you wheeze. 

a pair of big hands grasped your waist tightly to kept you from moving so violently from his brutal pace. you enclosed your legs around satoru's narrow waist, although you could barely keep them up from the heavenly pleasure and the heat forming at your core. 

greedy pussy tensing impossibly snug around inches of delicious cock once you let your orgasm take over you. satoru let out one of the filthiest moans you had ever heard as you pussy claimed him. his full balls thudding against your ass cheeks, ready to expulse the cum inside you. 

"c'mon baby, give it to me, come inside me," you breathlessly pleaded as your hands moved to his nape, taking him closer to your face. "cum for me, my pretty boy," you kissed his rosy nose. 

satoru cried out loud as he felt his knot untie, becoming abruptly stiff to let his creamy liquid fill you again. your hands held his cheeks, his long white lashes touched his hot cheeks while his pretty lips kept letting out whines and small gasps. his long eyebrows furrowed at the luscious bliss he was feeling. satoru had such a beautiful orgasm face. 

as he came down, he started moving slowly, pushing his cum inside you even more. 

"oh baby cakes, that was so good..." he kept writhing slightly on top of you, trying not to collapse completely on you. "I love you so much."

you kissed lovingly his nose again and then pecked his lips. "I love you too, toru." 

once the big man above you deigned to sit up and take his softening dick off you, he eyed the sinful scene in front of him. your pussy hole was stretched out from his unkind girth, though it was mostly covered and spilling out his loads of his creamy sauce. your bruised lips painted in white and your inner thighs masked with love bites and marks from his previous foreplay. 

"look at you, sugar plum," satoru's ghost touch danced around your thighs and near your crotch, finally placing his large hand on your belly as he grabbed his phone. "I need to capture this moment, I don't know when I'll be able to see you like this again."

"you say it as if we didn't have sex like three times a week," you deadpanned as one of your hands went to your leg to keep it from slightly trembling after such intense session. your other hand intertwined itself with satoru's one laying on your belly. 

"may I?" his blue eyes pleaded as he raised his phone, showing you the camera app icon. you nodded a bit sheepishly. this was a new little fixation your boyfriend was developing so you weren't used to it yet. "thank you, baby. you look incredibly good."

even though you averted your gaze, the flickering flashlight made you crook your neck, seeing your unduly excited boyfriend taking multiple photos from different angles, moving your legs to get a better shot and even placing the tip of his hardening cock at your entrance. 

another picture of his favorites resembled the moment you gave him one of the craziest and sloppiest heads you have given him. 

it had been a day you were feeling hot the moment you rose from bed, probably due to some ovulation occurring inside your body. or perhaps it was the pretty face and angel eyes of your boyfriend on your wallpaper that made you agitated. 

either way, you assaulted your boyfriend the moment he walked in your shared apartment, approaching him with a sly smirk and wondering hands that went straight to his fat tits and sculpted abs. your lips enveloped his in a heated make up session, your hands unable to leave his body and his hands gripping your waist and hips, gripping your ass furiously. 

you swayed your hips along his until he was pushed onto the couch, manspreading automatically, making his lap deadly inviting. 

“feeling eager, aren’t we?” he grinned coyly while you made your way between his muscular thighs, your hands dancing through his lap. his larger hands moved anxiously as they removed his uniform jacket and the expensive undershirt, leaving his burly upper body exposed to the chilly inside breeze, rosy nipples perking up. 

“sorry baby, you just look so… delicious right now,” you mumbled between agitated breaths as your lips left open kisses on his abs, slender fingers playing with the waistband of his pants. 

“don’t ever apologize for something like this, cookie pie,” satoru’s hands played with your hair; messy locks falling on your face were rapidly pulled out by his thick digits. 

you giggled softly at his sudden aroused state, your voice making the hardening length beneath you twitch. it jumped so violently that it tickled your collarbone, as you were still focused on his abdomen, your chest was met with his hot crotch. 

“princess…” satoru moaned softly as one of your fingers played with his hard nipple, your lips trailing down his happy trail. “you can’t make me this hot the moment i come home and do too much foreplay,” he wanted to shove your pretty face down his dick already, stretching the muscles around your lips. 

a smirk locked itself on your face at his words. your hands finally daring to lower his pants along with his underwear. satoru lifted his hips to help you. and just like that, his pretty enlarged cock sprung out almost hitting your face. 

the moment your hand gripped the base, satoru let out a long satisfying sigh, his hands lightly encouraging you to get closer to his length. 

you started pumping his cock up and down, smearing his pre-cum on his head down the length of his cock. your mouth salivated at the sight of the pretty cock in front of you, several inches of thick meat, a red needy head, and two pair of heavy balls. they all were waiting for your warm tongue to embrace them. 

the more you jerked him off, the more liquid exited his mushroom head. to add more natural lubricant and make it easier to fist his cock, you spit on it. viscous blob glittered satoru’s length all the way down his full balls. 

eager hand pumping him and tugging occasionally at his tip, drawing loud moans and whines from satoru. once your lips kissed his red tip, large hands nudged you into his cock, feeling a stinging sensation in your lip corners from the heavy stretch of his thick member. 

“oh yeah… yeah… huff, just like that…” you could hear your boyfriend’s pants once your head started moving, recreating the same rhythm of your hand. bobbing your head up and down, letting his tip caress the deep of your throat, relaxing your muscles so it could reach deeper. satoru had such a long dick that was always a challenge to suck, though it was delicious. 

“i love your mouth so much… it feels so warm, you are so perfect for my cock…” he cursed under his breath as you hummed, vibrations causing his cock to shoot various amounts of pre-cum, which went straight down your esophagus. “yeah just like that schnookums,suck my soul off.” 

you hollowed your cheeks to apply pressure to his thick cock, sucking him while using one of your hands to pump the inches your mouth couldn’t reach. your other hand massaged his balls, which were damp with your spit and his pre-cum. the pubic hairs belonging to his sexy happy trail were wet just as much. 

“baby, baby, baby,” satoru huffed repeatedly as his massive hands tugged at your hair, one of them cupping your chin. that was the signal that your boyfriend was nearing to his release. 

however just as you were about to focus solely on his thick sensitive head, a flash blinded you for a second. your eyes looking up at satoru grinning widely between heavy breaths, his phone held high in his hand. 

“smile for the camera, princess, you look incredibly gorgeous with my cock in your mouth,” another flash on your face as satoru took a live picture, which also captured the intense release of cum spilling from his tip. a groan escaped his rosy lips as the palm on your cheek urged your mouth to open wider to take his cream. your hand stroking him tightly to extract the remaining droplets of cum. 

satoru cursed breathlessly as his thumb unconsciously kept pressing the button, snapping pictures of your mouth full of his white liquid, lips just as white. 

countless of pictures of your ass and tits adorned satoru's hidden album. they were his favorite to take, positioning his phone camera in a certain angle to make your ass and his cock stand out. most of the tits pics on his gallery were initially sent from you to him, saving them immediately to his device and going straight to his hidden album. 

it had become an habit for satoru to yank out his phone when he was pounding you from behind, your ass glowing from the constant sweat. 

massive palms holding your hips firmly as he was hypnotized by the sizable stretch of your pussy, fat cock disappearing into a pair of swollen lips. your arms were aching from holding your upper body, opting better to give up and plump over the expensive sheets. 

"what happened, muffin? already feeling tired?" you heard the teasing voice of your boyfriend from behind, the raspy sounds going straight to your core where your orgasm was building. "if i remember correctly, you were the one claiming for going for multiple rounds," he panted as his thrusts were becoming a bit erratic. 

the side of your face was glued to the mattress, as your spine arched even more at the pressure of his mushroom head hitting your sweet spots. whines and incoherent mumbling could only leave your mouth. 

one of his large hands began messaging your bum, squeezing at the fat of your hips, as it continued its way down your bent back, caressing your hot skin. his long fingers tracing the curve of your waist and rubbing the underside of your boob. 

you weren't quite sure what it was, but the coil holding up your release unraveled at the soft feelings of satoru's big hands on your back. your own hands snugly gripped the sheets underneath you as you came, kiss bitten lips agape, and eyes tightly shut. 

"ohh baby..." the tall man choke at the tightening of your walls around his enlarged cock, crushing his throbbing length. "fuck you are so goddamn tight..." he struggled to breathe as his oxygen-deprived brain filled with endorphins, wishing nothing more than to live this moment over and over again. your own moans and mewls claiming his consciousness. 

just as he used all six eyes to scan the messy room, his gaze landed on his phone laying on the night stand. the hand stroking your spine sprinted to grab his phone. you watched him through lidded eyes as he strove to open his camera app, fingers moving anxiously as mind-blowing pleasure took control of his muscles. 

rapture was threatening to break him apart, hard cock hammering your puffy pussy, small gasps leaving your mouth at each thrust. 

the clicking sound coming from satoru's phone buzzed distorted, you were certain you were at the verge of passing out from the overstimulation from the slamming. 

satoru was about to take the fifth picture of your ass eating up his cock as he felt his belly whorl, hips becoming rigid as his balls tightened, hard cock resenting the blasting pressure of his release. a loud moan coming from your boyfriend rushed to your ears as you felt his warm creamy liquid paint your insides.

after gaining composure from such luscious discharge, satoru kept snaping pictures of your ass, especially taking a series of continuous pictures of him withdrawing his big cock. white creaming his cock as viscous leakage oozed off your stretched hole. 

"these pictures are going straight to the fav album," satoru cursed under his breath. once he was fully out of you, your limp body collapsed over the bed. his strong arms twirled you around, raising chest now facing the ceiling. you were so fucked out, about to lose consciousness and allow serenity flow over your dilated veins. 

"fuck sugarplum, you look heavenly," satoru said softly, his fingers clicking once more on the snap button. "thank you so much for allowing me to capture this moment forever, im simply a lamb next to you, goddess..."

your sprawled body, nipples hardened due to the chill air, belly full of satoru's cum, white-painted leaking pussy, and your cock-drunk face made such perfect wallpaper in satoru's mind, he couldn't waste this opportunity to snap a few more pictures of you. 

after all, his gallery was actually yours, since your body and face occupied most of it. 

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks @soulaires <3

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 4: Lost In Moonlight

Chp. 4 Summary: You couldn't deny Joel any longer. You needed him. Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: SMUT (finally), unprotected piv sex, nipple play, cock riding, cum eating, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), aftercare, heavy kissing, mentions of past emotional abuse, soft!joel, so much FLUFF!!! A/N: I know this is what y'all have been waiting for, so I hope I did this moment justice :') I'm putting together a lil playlist for this fic, so please lmk if you're interested in seeing it! xoxo <3

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Flower petals were strewn across the entryway as you and Joel staggered through the dark house. You couldn’t find the time—or care—to flick on the lights, too busy finding Joel’s mouth in the darkness. His hands caressed every curve of your body, fingers reaching under the seam of your sweatshirt to press against your warm skin. You tried blindly guiding him toward your room, only to awkwardly bump into corners and walls in the search, leaving you giggling and Joel cursing. You were nearly at the door when he stopped short, pinning you to the wall of the hallway so that he could devour your mouth once more. Helpless moans left your lips as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his hands roaming down your lower back. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, the outline of his hardened cock rubbing against your upper thigh. Joel pulled away from your mouth, his breath ragged as he palmed your ass with his large hands.

“I don’t want you regrettin’ this in the mornin’ if it’s not what you want,” he panted. 

“Don’t try and tell me what I want, Joel,” you whispered, kissing down the base of his neck.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands squeezing you harder. By the night's end, not a single inch of you would be left untouched. You raised your mouth to his ear, grazing over the shell of it with the tip of your tongue.

“I’m sick of pretending like I don’t want you.”

“You’re killin’ me, baby,” he groaned. 

You searched for his hand through the blanket of darkness around you, guiding him to your bedroom. You counted the steps in your head until the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you were falling back. Joel tumbled over you, one knee propped up beside your waist while his other leg was wedged between your thighs. His hands pulled at the hem of your sweatshirt, tugging it up your body until you took control and stripped it off in one fluid motion. It barely hit the ground before his hands were all over you, the touch of his skin on yours electrifying you beyond words. Every touch was soft…so fucking soft. It was dizzying to be handled so gently and with such determined intensity. Where you struggled for words, Joel responded with another caress, another kiss, another praise of adoration. 

The pads of his fingers began tracing down your sternum, working at the material of your bra. 

“Can I?” he asked, reaching behind your back.

“Yes,” you exhaled.

His fingers made easy work of the clasp, freeing you of your bra in record time. Even if you were drenched in shadows, you knew Joel’s eyes were washing over your body with rapt attention. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he muttered as he leaned back over you.

His mouth was hot against your collarbone as he worked his way down your chest. Peppered kisses trailed over the swell of your breasts, and you arched into his gentle touch as he swirled his tongue around your hardened nipples. His tongue flicked at the sensitive skin, forcing a breathy whine to escape your lips. Joel’s teeth grazed over the soft skin of your breast before dipping his head lower and scattering your navel with soft kisses. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, carding your hands through his hair.

A thin sheen of sweat hung on the curls, forcing them to stick against his temples and forehead. You raked your nails over his scalp, earning a deep groan that rumbled through his chest. He pulled himself up so that he stood over you, and as your vision adjusted to the darkness, you watched as his hands worked at tugging his shirt over his neck and shoulders. Fuck, you wished the lights were on so you could catalog every part of his body. You sat up on the bed, craning your neck back as you traced your fingers over the soft skin of his stomach and up his chest. The hair spattering his chest tickled your fingertips as you crept higher, your hands caressing the thick muscles on his shoulders. Joel’s hands reached to cover yours, halting your blind exploration of his body.

“We should stop,” he said, strained.

You cringed as he said those three words, letting your hands drop and wrap around your bare chest. You knew it was too good to be true; he didn’t want you. Even if every atom of his being called out to yours, like some prayer for divinity, he wanted to stop. 

“I—I understand,” you hesitated.

You didn’t know where to go, with him still looming over you, so you shuffled your body up the bed, trying to find the edge of your comforter so you could bury yourself in the deepest part of your mattress and disappear entirely. Joel’s hand shot out to grab your ankle, tugging you back to the edge of the bed, and you raised yourself on your forearms, staring at him confused. 

“We should stop,” he started. “Because I don’t have a condom.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in two years,” you confessed, adding, “I’m on birth control, too.”

“Are y’sure?”

You hooked a leg around his waist, tugging him closer until he was falling forward and caging you between his arms. You craned your head to capture his lips in a hungry kiss, holding him firm against you.

“I want this, Joel. I’m sure.”

That was all Joel needed to hear before he lost all semblance of control. His restraint was replaced with this frantic urgency as his fingers worked at the button and zipper of your jeans, yanking them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to the cool air circling your room. His pants were shed less than a minute later, and now you were both only separated by thin pieces of fabric that covered your lower halves. The press of Joel’s hardened cock against your thigh ignited a fire within your stomach, and your underwear dampened through at the thought of what he could do with it. Having sex with Bennett always felt like an obligation—a chore. But with Joel, you craved it beyond understanding. You needed to put emotions into action and feel how he thought about you. Every ounce of your resolve and control were far gone now, left somewhere between the front door and the bed beneath you. The second Joel had kissed you, you knew you’d never say ‘no’ to him again. He was a weakness you couldn’t control, and you were so tired of trying to keep him at a distance.

Joel’s hands worked at your underwear, and you let out a giggle when he tossed them carelessly across the room along with his own. Your heart pounded in your chest as he lifted your leg by the back of your knee, propping it over his broad shoulder. He angled the head of his cock against your slick entrance, coating it in your wetness before pushing in slowly. Your head fell back against the bed as he broke you open inch by inch. The agonizing stretch to adjust to him faded away, and you both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, filling you completely. 

“S’fuckin’ tight, baby,” Joel cursed. “Feels fuckin’ amazing.”

He started moving, his hips rocking against you at a tender pace as you squirmed under his body. Each thrust amplified the coiling warmth, creating an unbearable furnace inside you. You needed more; you needed to feel everything and forget every lingering emotion crawling through your mind.

“Harder,” you begged.

“Yeah?” Joel panted, driving into you with such force your body shoved up the bed. “Like that, baby?”

Your only response was a vigorous nod of your head and an outward cry as he plunged deeper with each snap of his hips. Sounds of your bodies slapping together, your endless cries of pleasure, and his ragged breath became a cacophony floating through the air around you. 

A car drove past your house, the headlights streaming through the blinds, drenching Joel’s silhouette for a fleeting moment. At that moment, you could see the flex of his arms, the pinch of his brows, and the slight tug of his lips upwards as he continued wrecking into you. Rewashed in darkness, you ached to see how his pupils blew wide as he gazed down on you. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Joel muttered, squeezing your hips to anchor you against his body. Perfect. There was that word again, sounding so simple when he said it like it wasn’t a lie. Like he meant it. And every action he showed you proved he not only meant it but believed it. 

You chased the warmth that unfurled through your muscles, the pleasure building higher and higher until you could barely contain it. Joel must have felt it, too, because as your eyes scrunched tight, Joel’s fingers found the sensitive bud at the apex of your sex and drew long, tantalizing circles. That touch was all you needed to come undone completely; your body was paralyzed as the orgasm wracked through you with such intensity you lost all breath inside your lungs. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Joel hummed. “Let go, baby. Gimmie more.”

Bennett had never spoken to you this way, nor did he praise you when you came—which was rare with him. He barely did anything but grunt once in a while, but this? Hearing Joel talk you through every thrust, every ripple of your orgasm, only spurred you on more. You clung onto every word he spoke, like a moth to the flame, and his mouth was a forest fire. 

Joel bent forward, wrapping a strong arm around your back and hauling you over until you were perched on top of him. From this angle, his cock felt so much bigger, stretching you wider until your thighs ached. He sprawled back against the comforter; his hands splayed against your hips to guide you in fluid motions above him.

“Joel…” you exhaled, grinding your hips down against him. 

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you need,” he urged.

You lifted your hips, sinking back down onto him, finding the perfect rhythm that rendered you speechless. You couldn’t form words or think of anything else but his name.

“C’mon, baby. I know y’can use your words. I wanna hear you.”

“It’s just—.” You heaved in a breath as he rocked up into you. “You feel so fucking good, Joel. Your cock…”

“Keep talkin’,” he moaned.

Shuffling his knees up, Joel started pistoning into you hard, making it impossible to form coherent sentences. How were you to speak when his cock was driving into you so hard your vision was blurring? Joel gritted out your name, coaxing you from your chaotic thoughts. 

“Never.” You gasped. “Been fucked this good.” Another gasp. “Need this all the time. Need—you. Fuck… Joel…”

“I got you, baby. Ain’t gonna let you go.”

You whispered his name like a cantation, each syllable a broken prayer leaving your lips. Another orgasm throbbed inside your core, and you snaked your hand to rub circles against your swollen clit, trying to alleviate that growing ache throbbing in your veins. Joel’s pace was unrelenting as you toppled closer to the edge, a cry escaping your mouth as you felt your body seize up. The clench of your sex around his cock was enough to force him to the edge, too, and as you hit your climax, his release exploded inside you, with your name falling off his tongue.

Joel lifted himself, molding your bodies together in his firm grip, your lips crushing together as he swallowed the tiny sounds still finding their way up your throat. Your hands clasped around the sides of his neck, keeping his mouth locked with yours until you felt his cock soften inside you. With a roll of his hips, Joel had you pinned to the mattress once more, his cock slipping free as he worked his mouth down your body. You tensed as his mouth grew closer to your navel, embarrassment forcing your spine to stiffen.

“Joel,” you cautioned. “You—you don’t have to do that.”

His nose brushed over your stomach, his hands working in tandem to pry your legs apart. With a dip of his head, he placed a gentle kiss on each thigh, humming in satisfaction.

“Y’want me to stop, baby?” He asked, his warm mouth hovering over your sensitive clit.

“I just—.” You were flustered. “I’ve never had someone…”

His fingers flexed and tightened around the supple skin of your hips, and you could see his dark eyes peering up at you with confusion as his brows knit together. 

“Don’t you dare tell me you ain’t ever had a man eat your pussy,” he warned. 

You bit your lip and gave him a single nod of your head. Bennett never went down on you, always making some sort of excuse. “You wouldn’t like it.” “I’m too tired, honey.” “Maybe next time.” He never offered, and eventually, you gave up asking. You could hardly count any guy before him since most had been careless hookups and one-night stands—most of them leaving you to chase your orgasm after they left. You couldn’t even count on two hands the times Bennett actually made you cum, and now Joel was setting himself up to do it again…for the third time.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, covering your face to hide the shame that burned under your cheeks.

“Baby, don’t do that,” Joel pleaded. “S’nothin’ to be sorry for, okay?”

“But you just…” You could feel his cum leaking out of you, still. Was he seriously considering this right now?

“I don’t care. I wanna taste us together, baby. Let me show you how good it can feel.”

You inhaled sharply, only responding with another tilt of your head. Joel’s mouth hovered over your slick entrance, his eyes still trained on you.

“Gimmie words, baby,” he said. “I need to hear you say ‘yes’.”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

“Y’want my tongue?”

When you didn’t respond, he teased you with a sharp flick of his tongue against your clit, forcing a cry to erupt from your mouth. Joel groaned at your responsiveness to his touch, awarding you with a thick swipe of his tongue over your slick entrance. He worked at you like he was a dying man, and you were the last drop of water in an empty desert, lapping at every drop of cum dripping down your sex. You glanced at him, meeting his piercing stare between your legs. Rough fingers massaged your sore thighs while his tongue dove into you with such desperation you couldn’t tell if he was pleasuring you or if you were pleasuring him. Euphoria sparked in your veins, overwhelming you to the point of tears. Snaking a hand under your thigh, Joel worked two thick fingers inside you, prying you open and coaxing a sob from your throat. 

“Right there, oh my god. Joel, don’t stop,” you choked, gasping for air. 

His fingers and tongue worked at you in tandem, the orgasm surging inside you becoming all-consuming. It thrashed inside your veins and tore through you forcefully and without warning. You slumped against the comforter as your soul floated above your body. Was delirium a real thing? Because if it was, this was the precipice of madness. Joel swept a soft kiss over your aching clit before crawling on top of you again. Tangling his hand in the hair at the base of your neck, he brought his wet lips to yours until your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside. 

“Taste yourself, baby,” Joel moaned into your open mouth. “Don’t we taste so fuckin’ good?”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered.

Joel kissed you fervently; each stroke of his tongue against yours was purposeful and searing, a blistering admission of devotion and admiration. You still felt undeserving of it all: his patience, tenderness, and kindness… but maybe this was a start. Maybe he was worth letting it. 

As the kisses slowed and your bodies begged to be unstuck from one another, you found a stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck. The euphoria you had been sucked into was fading into the distance, and you were overly aware of the emotions crashing at the surface. Your voice was hoarse as you mumbled his name, breaking away from his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, turning your head into the pillows. 

Joel hushed your cries, dragging his thumb over your cheek to collect your tears. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No, no,” you said, voice muffled. “I’m okay. Everything was great.”

“Then why’re you cryin’?”

You turned your head back to face him, catching the furrow of his brows through bleary eyes. 

“It’s stupid,” you muttered.

“Talk to me, please.”

You curled into his arms, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. The smell of sex and sweat wafted off of him, mixing with the lingering warm cologne wafting off his skin. You never wanted to leave this moment. You never wanted to be untangled from his limbs. It was a terrifying realization; this was something you wanted. 

“You’re just—not what I expected.” It came out as a mixture of a laugh and cry, leaving you gasping for breath. “I haven’t been the easiest person to get to know, and I haven’t been the kindest, but you… you haven’t left. I don’t understand why you haven’t left.”

“Hey, hey… oh, baby,” Joel crooned. “Look at me.”

Joel’s fingers slid under your chin, fighting against your reluctance as you met his shadowed gaze. In the sunlight, you could see the unmistakable flecks of amber and gold swirling in his eyes, but in the darkness, they were nearly black—but just as soft and ardent. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, okay? There ain’t a single thing that’s gonna change my mind about you. I know you’re worried about all this stuff happenin’ between us, but we can take things as slow as you want, baby. You call the shots from now on, and whatever you wanna do, I’ll be here,” he said. 

“I’m not worth—.”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “You are worth it. I’ll spend every day provin’ it if that’s what it takes.”

You didn’t know what to say when all you could cling to were the lingering memories of Bennett and the words he had once said. Yes, you loved him at one point, but there were so many reasons to hate him. The constant fights, the constant feeling of never being enough, the constant silence. The silence. Bennett’s silence was a weapon he used to pacify you. You learned over time that speaking up and communicating your feelings was unimportant to Bennett; if anything, it was an opportunity to minimize your voice and keep you docile. You became the smallest version of yourself in his shadow, clawing for scraps of his attention to try and keep the relationship afloat. You tried so hard to keep him happy until it came at the cost of losing yourself entirely. You didn’t recognize yourself anymore. 

“What can I do right now?” Joel asked, his voice swimming upstream against the thoughts that drowned you. “D’you wanna take a shower and sleep? Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, so I ain’t got nowhere to be but here with you.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh, nodding your head at his offer. Joel unwound his limbs from yours, pulling you to your aching legs and letting you take the lead toward your ensuite. With a shaky hand, you flicked on the lights, your eyes squinting to adjust to the harshness of color that washed over the room. A quick look in the mirror told you everything you needed to know; you were thoroughly fucked and completely strung out. Your hair was a tangled mess hanging over your shoulders, your lips fuller and swollen from kissing, yet your eyes were hollow and glossy. Joel’s tall frame came into view behind you, his tanned arms snaking around your middle and tugging you back against his chest. Through the mirrored reflection, he held your gaze with an unwavering kindness that tore through every self-deprecating voice in your head. With his hand splayed over the expanse of your stomach, Joel dipped his head lower, his mouth hot against your ear. 

“Look how beautiful y’are, baby,” he praised. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your thighs together to quell the slow ache pulsating inside you again. 

You wanted so badly to see what he saw, but all you saw was the lingering handprints of the past plastered over your skin. The places Bennett had touched and kissed before, the echoed arguments that deafened your ears, every inch of you was left tainted. They say it takes the body seven years to replace its cells—seven years to be a new person from the inside out. You were hardly on the cusp of three years since Bennett last touched you, but you desperately wanted to be shed of every fiber that still clung to his memory. You couldn’t speed up the process; it was out of your control, but Joel touched you like he sought to do it himself. Inch by inch, your body would forget Bennett’s touch. It was your heart that needed to follow the same path. 

Joel’s deep voice whispering your name roused you from your thoughts, and your eyes snapped up to meet his through the mirrored reflection. Everything fell away, and you lost yourself again in the simplicity of being in the moment with him. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he urged, his hand coming down to palm your ass before delivering a light slap. 

You let out a startled laugh, forcing your legs to move and start up a warm shower. The second you both stepped under the blazing warmth of the spray, Joel had you pinned to the wall. You yelped at the startling cold of the tiles that pressed into your spine, but Joel’s hungry mouth swallowed every noise you made. Droplets of water fell off his damp curls, settling on your open mouth as he intertwined his tongue with yours. 

“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging you back under the pelting rain of the showerhead. 

You leaned your head back under the water, letting the water rush over your skin and drench your hair. Joel’s fingers twisted their way up the wet tendrils, gingerly massaging your scalp until a satisfied moan escaped your lips. He worked at lathering shampoo into your hair, scraping his nails across your scalp with each drag of his fingers. 

“This feels nice,” you muttered, your voice lost in the downpour of water above you. 

The resounding hum from Joel’s chest was all you heard as he washed your hair, his hands never leaving your body, even after the suds began to float down the drain. You lifted yourself on your toes to bring your mouth to his, not trusting yourself with words. For once in your life, you were speechless.

Time slipped away, and it wasn’t until you noticed your fingertips had pruned and the water ran cold that Joel finally tugged you out of the shower. You searched for two towels in your cabinets, watching as his hands worked the fabric over the low taper of his hips. Water droplets clung to the dark hair covering his chest, the muscles of his torso rising and falling with each breath. Your eyes wandered up to his face and settled on the natural upturn of his lips. You tried to fight the smile forming on your lips, but denying the emotions spreading through your body was practically impossible. 

You were happy. 

“I don’t like when you’re this quiet,” Joel chuckled softly. “I’m so used to you talkin’ or arguin’ with me.”

You blinked up at him, watching the crease form between his brows. It was the first time someone had an issue with you being quiet. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. It was your default response to everything. You were sorry for talking too much; you were sorry for not talking enough… you were just sorry. 

Joel’s hands came up to cup your face, leaving you with no choice but to look into his tired eyes. 

“I hate that you always say that,” he confessed. “I’m gonna make sure y’learn not to always say 'sorry'.”

“You’re gonna teach the teacher?” You lifted a brow. 

He chuckled and lifted his lips to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. 

“There she is,” he muttered against your skin. “Now, c’mon. You tired me out, and I can’t sleep without hearin’ your voice.”

“Oh, really?” You teased, peering up at him.

“Yeah, really,” he smiled. “So, let’s get our asses in bed, and y’can talk my ear off ‘til we fall asleep.”

And that’s exactly what you did. Hidden under the sanctuary of your comforter and pulled tight against Joel’s chest, you talked until the hours grew late. You told him about your childhood and how you failed math in sixth grade. You told him about your rebellious teen years, divulging the horrendous stories of how you and Beth would sneak out to parties together. He asked about college, and you told him what you could without including Bennett in the story. Occasionally, he would chime in to ask another question, and the conversation would keep rolling, suspending you both in time as you remained wrapped up in one another's embrace. Every doubt had faded, but as your eyes drifted shut, you hoped your guard would start fading, too. 

Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds that fluttered against your bedroom window, drenching the room in the warm colors of sunrise. You burrowed deeper into Joel’s body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours as he kept your back flush to his chest. His fingers flexed against your hips, tugging you closer—if that was even possible. 

“Mornin’, baby,” Joel said, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you yawned, shimming your body back against his, awarded with the hard press of his cock at the seam of your ass. 

“Oh, don’t start with that shit again,” he groaned, rolling you onto your back.

A laugh bubbled out of you as he framed you between two large arms. Craning your neck, you met his tired eyes and saw the laugh lines creasing the corners. This was how Joel looked in the morning, happy. With his curls untamed and that lopsided grin, he looked happy…with you. 

“I’m only teasing,” you laughed as his mouth worked its way down your neck.

“Fuckin’ better be,” he muttered in between each kiss. “I just got you sayin’ my name, so y’ better not take it back.”

“Oh, does me calling you Mr. Miller not turn you on?” You quipped.

“Trust me, baby, everything you do turns me on,” Joel growled.

“I don’t believe you.”

Joel’s mouth traveled down your chest, sucking marks into the skin of your breasts. You careened into his touch, moaning as his teeth grazed over a peaked nipple.

“When I saw you for that first time,” he started, his mouth still hot against your skin. “That fuckin’ dress you wore at the dance…I knew I was a goner. Looked so fuckin’ beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Your voice was ragged as he continued moving lower. 

“I still think about how you teased me at the bar,” he said. “It drove me crazy, I swear.”

He had your legs spread open now, his nose pressed into your inner thigh. Arousal pooled between your legs, and you stole a glance at Joel’s eyes, connecting your slick entrance. Even though he fucked you sore last night, your body was addicted, so devastatingly responsive to every word he said. 

“And when you yelled at me? Fuck, somethin’ about seeing you all riled up. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought ‘bout you with my hand around my cock. I can’t get enough of you, baby,” Joel whispered. 

“You’ve thought about me like that?” You exhaled. 

“Ain’t nothin’ professional ‘bout the way I think about you.”

“Keep talking, Joel,” you begged. You were drunk on his words, completely and utterly wasted on every admission he made.

“Thought ‘bout you spread out like this for me.” He flattened his tongue against your entrance, lapping at the juices leaking out of you. “Dreamt ‘bout how sweet you’d taste and how you’d look when you cum.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, holding your focus as he repeated the motion with his tongue. “Y’taste better than I ever expected.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back.

Joel’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud in a steady rhythm. You bucked against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that snaked its way through your stomach. He released you with a loud pop, his tongue tracing over your folds and dragging out the pleasure that swelled inside your core. He was teasing you, controlling your pleasure until it became tortuous. You cried out in frustration, bucking against his mouth, trying to find release. 

“Be patient for me, baby,” Joel whispered, ghosting his tongue over your clit again.

“Please, Joel,” you begged. Your fingers twisted into the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric to keep you grounded. 

Joel’s tongue teased your entrance, barely dipping into you—enough to make you curse under your breath. The longer he teased you, the stronger the need for release became. All you wanted was to fall apart, to feel the orgasm vibrate your nerves and relieve your heart from its erratic beating. You could hardly contain it any longer.

“I—I need…” You were blubbering nonsense, your thighs shaking around his head. 

“I know what ya’ need, baby. Just a lil’ bit more.”

Then he was assaulting you with his tongue, drawing circles over your throbbing clit until every muscle in your body tensed and trembled. Your vision blurred as everything rushed to the surface, your thighs squeezing around Joel’s head as the pleasure liquified inside you. You screamed out his name as your orgasm crescendoed and crashed hard. You clawed at the bed, your body seizing up with the final aftershocks rocking through you.

“I could do this for hours,” Joel hummed, nudging your throbbing clit with the tip of his nose.

You squirmed under him, trying to shove yourself up the bed and away from him. You were overstimulated and exhausted, your body still recovering from last night… and this. 

“What? Torture me?” You grumbled. 

Joel chuckled, smirking at you. He rolled onto his back, keeping his arm wrapped around your thigh. His finger massaged circles into the sore muscles, another groan leaving your lips. 

“Make you cum, baby,” Joel said. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it.”

“How about you make me a coffee, Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “You’ve exhausted me.”

“And how do you like your coffee, Miss Smith?” He tossed back.

“Guess.”

Joel tilted his head back to look at you, his brown eyes glowing in the morning sun. He pursed his lips, studying you as he thought up an answer. 

“I’m guessin’ you like it strong,” he mused. “Maybe a lil’ dash of cream, but definitely no sugar.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp that turned into a fit of laughter. Joel raised an eyebrow at your response, rolling onto his stomach to watch you as you continued laughing. How did he read you so well? Even if it was just something as simple as coffee. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“It’s just crazy how well you know me, that’s all,” you giggled. 

“Wait, I guessed right?” He gaped. 

“Mhmm, right on the nose.”

“Well, c’mon, baby. Let’s get you that strong cup of coffee.” 

Joel tapped your leg before offering a hand to lift you from the bed. You scoured the floor for your underwear, finding them hidden under your nightstand alongside Joel’s boxers. With half your bodies clothed, you led Joel to the kitchen, the natural light reflecting off the marble countertops. It felt strange having someone in the house; you hadn’t brought anyone over since before Bennett left. You had grown so accustomed to your daily routine that including Joel in it felt unnatural…but also so normal. 

“Make yourself comfy,” Joel urged, motioning to the barstools at the end of the counter. 

You shimmed yourself onto the seat and watched him navigate around your kitchen. Your small pour-over sat in the corner beside the stove, which Joel quickly figured out. 

“Mugs?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Top right cabinet,” you said, pointing toward it.

Joel’s back muscles flexed as he reached to grab two mismatched mugs, and you leaned forward to watch him so relaxed in your home. His presence filled all the empty spaces you had hidden within the last two years. 

“I made coffee,” Bennett called from the kitchen.

You dragged yourself out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you shuffled down the hallway. The house smelt of coffee and pancakes, and the morning was off to a good start. After a late night of arguing, you hoped a shared breakfast together would at least minimize the hostility between the both of you. 

Bennett slid a mug across the counter, your hands wrapping around the hot ceramic and inhaling the steam that floated above the liquid. You muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before taking a sip, instantly scrunching your nose in disgust. 

“Did you put sugar in this?” You asked, setting the mug down.

Bennett shrugged, sipping from his mug, unphased by your complaint. His hair was messy from sleep, the blonde strands sticking up at odd angles. He had slept on the couch for the night, which clearly didn’t do him well. 

“You always have sugar in your coffee,” he glared at you. 

“Bennett, when have you ever seen me put sugar in my coffee?” 

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “Figured you liked it. Don’t all girls like sugar in their coffee?”

You scoffed at his words, shoving away from the counter and slipping off the barstool. Gripping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, you sulked into the living room, dropping yourself on the couch cushions.

“Here we go again,” Bennett grumbled, loud enough for you to hear.

Whipping your head back toward the kitchen, you jabbed a finger at him, a scowl twisting your lips upwards. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned. 

“For fucks sake, it’s just coffee!” He yelled. 

“It’s not just coffee,” you argued. “It’s you not knowing anything about me. It’s you not paying attention to me!”

Bennett slammed his mug onto the counter, rattling the ceramic. You jolted at the sound, shrinking further into the couch. 

“I’m so sick and tired of hearing you bitch all the fucking time,” he snapped. “You always have something to complain about. Who cares if there’s sugar in it? I was trying to do something nice, but now you’re turning it into an argument. Like you always do. I can never do anything right, huh? It’s always my fault.”

His words were like a slap in the face, a knife to the open wound still bleeding from last night. You and Bennett had gone to dinner together, and he spent half the night complaining about work, never once letting you speak. When you tried explaining that you wanted to enjoy a nice dinner without discussing work, he unleashed a speech about how you were never happy with anything. The argument followed you home until you were both in a screaming match and eventually retiring separately for sleep—you in an empty bed and him on the couch. All you had wanted was a nice date night together, and it ended as it always did: you alone. 

“I just wish you’d pay attention to me,” you muttered. 

“Because everything is always about you, right? You’ve got to make everything about you. You can’t just say ‘thank you’ and move on.”

You sucked in a breath, trying to keep your anger at bay. Arguing with him was a losing battle; he would never admit his faults, even if it were something as simple as this. You were too exhausted to fight, so you only nodded and rewarded him with a tightlipped smile. 

“Thank you for making coffee. I’m sorry for getting upset.”

Bennett rolled his eyes, dumping his coffee in the sink. 

“Whatever. I gotta get ready for work.”

Then he was disappearing down the hall, slamming the door shut hard enough to knock a picture frame off the walls. You jumped at the sound and let the tears quietly fall as you sat in heavy silence. 

“You alright?” Joel’s voice echoed around you. 

You blinked rapidly, shoving down the memories and returning to the present. Joel had a hand extended to you, the mug piping hot and billowing with steam. You took it carefully, blowing on it before you took a cautious sip. Perfect. It was perfect, and it twisted something unpleasant inside you. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, setting the mug down. You mindlessly traced circles around the brim, watching the bubbles around the edges pop against the heat. 

“Am I that bad at makin’ coffee?” He frowned, leaning against your fridge. 

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re thinkin’ about somethin’, huh?”

“Stop doing that,” you whispered, adverting your gaze toward the sliding doors leading to your backyard. 

“Doin’ what?”

“Seeing right through me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Joel moving through the kitchen, rounding the counter to stand in front of you. With a gentle hand under your chin, he drew your attention his way, a deep furrow between his brows. 

“You wear your emotions on your face,” he said. “I can tell when you’re upset ‘bout something.”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” you sighed. 

You didn’t like seeing Joel’s lips downturned; you missed the grin typically plastered on his face. You felt guilty for being the reason he looked so upset, and your knee-jerk apology was on the tip of your tongue. Joel bent down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering an extra moment before he pulled away. 

“What if I wanna talk about it?” He asked.

“I don’t think you do,” you laughed bitterly. 

Joel crowded you, stepping into the space between your legs. You were at eye level with his chest, counting the constellations of freckles hidden under the hair covering his torso. You’d rather marvel over his broad frame than discuss the painful memories of your past. You didn’t want to ruin this moment together. 

“It’s okay,” you insisted. 

“Don’t shy away from me, baby. Y’can talk to me ‘bout anything.”

You hesitated a moment. Joel had you spread open on your bed only minutes ago, and now the topic of your past was about to be the morning discussion. You didn’t want to talk about Bennett after an amazing night together, but if you knew anything about Joel, he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He always wanted to know more.

“You’re just different from what I’m used to,” you started. “Bennett, my ex, wasn’t like you. He didn’t pay attention to me the way you do.”

Something flashed over Joel’s eyes, a sudden flicker of anger as you spoke about Bennett. He gave you a moment to collect yourself before you continued. 

“We were together for five years, and he didn’t even know how I liked my coffee,” you scoffed. “And you guessed it in two seconds. Two seconds, Joel. I don’t understand how you do that.”

“Do what, baby?”

“Pay attention. You notice all these stupid, little things about me and make it seem so easy.”

Joel cupped your face in his large hands, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. You leaned into him, letting his touch ground you while your eyes fluttered shut. 

“I pay attention ‘cause I wanna know everything about you. Every single lil’ thing. That’s what it’s supposed to be like in a relationship, baby. Y’learn everything about the other person, and you remember it. From what you’ve hinted ‘bout before, I take it this Bennett guy was a real piece of shit.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone has told me.”

“Am I wrong, though?” Joel pressed.

“No,” you confessed. “He did treat me like shit. I wasn’t allowed to speak up for myself, or he got mad. He liked it when I was submissive and quiet, so that’s what I became.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against your face, his jaw clenching at every new admission. You had never admitted those things aloud, that Bennett forced you into this tiny box, making you become the perfect, obedient girlfriend. With an engagement ring on your finger, you were even more inclined to be whatever he wanted, just to know he wanted to marry you. Looking back, maybe the ring was less of a testament to his love and more of a muzzle on your outspokenness. Someone wanted to marry you, so that should make you quiet, right? 

“I don’t want you quiet,” Joel whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want you to be yourself in every way.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Joel. I haven’t been that girl in years.” 

Tears were spilling over your cheeks, soaking Joel’s fingers that still gripped your face. Why did you cry so much around him? You hated how emotional you were; you hated feeling weak and small. You couldn’t get through one fucking interaction with Joel without ending up a mess. Did Bennett ruin you entirely? 

“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “You probably need to leave soon, huh? You said Sarah’s at a sleepover, so I’m sure you gotta go get her and—.”

Joel tugged you forward, fusing his lips with yours. The taste of coffee and sleep lingered on his tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, and you welcomed him without hesitation. He kissed you slowly, with deliberate determination. You responded the same, letting yourself grow limp in his arms.

Breaking away, Joel leveled you with a stern stare that didn’t quite reach his lips since they twitched into a smile.

“I’m gonna kiss you every time you apologize just to shut ya’ up,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like a threat, Joel,” you smirked. “I’ll just apologize more.”

“Then I’ll figure out some other punishment.”

Your thighs clenched at his words, and your mind wandered to all the possibilities of what he could do. You hadn’t lied to him when you said you didn’t always like things ‘vanilla,’ but you hadn’t really dipped your toes into that area yet. You’d willingly explore it with him because if last night proved anything, it was that you trusted him more than anyone. He could do anything to you, and you knew you’d be safe.

“Got a dirty lil’ mind, huh?” Joel’s voice dropped lower.

“Oh, shut up.” You playfully shoved at his chest, shimming yourself off the barstool. 

Joel wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back into his arms. 

“I’m serious, though, baby. It fuckin’ kills me to see you cry. I’m gonna fix that.”

“You don’t have to, Joel. I’ll be okay. I’ll work on it.”

“We are gonna work on it,” he corrected.

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You were in uncharted territory with him, afraid of the future but willing to see where it would go. You had fought against it for almost two months now, and you were tired of fighting. You’d take things slow and test the waters with him… and hope you wouldn’t come out the other side with a shattered heart.

After cleaning up the flower petals left in the entryway and redressing, you finally urged Joel to go home. It was mid-afternoon, and you knew Sarah would want time with her dad. You couldn’t selfishly keep him to yourself, but he made it very known how badly he wanted to stay. With his flannel in his hand and his hair slightly tamed, Joel lingered by the door, reluctant to leave. You had shrugged on a robe while he had dressed, already dreaming about the long bath you’d take when he left. Your muscles were screaming for release after last night and this morning.

“Y’sure I can’t stay a bit longer?” Joel pouted, his lips pushed out as he glanced at you.

You laughed at his demeanor, enjoying the playfulness he always exuded. You wanted to learn how to be like that, to shed the walls built up around you.

“Sarah’s going to want to spend the day with you,” you said. “We can plan another date soon.”

“Or…” Joel wagged his brows. “I could come back tonight.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Go home, Mr. Miller, before I kick you out.”

Joel tugged the belt wrapped around your waist, hauling you closer until you were bumping into his chest. Dipping his head, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as you nipped at his bottom lip.

“Have a good day, baby,” he grinned. “I’ll call ya’ tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you exhaled.

You watched Joel until he got to his truck, his grin shining bright under the afternoon's clear skies. You waved at him as he drove off and closed your door with a heavy sigh. You needed to find your phone and make a very important phone call.

“You had sex with him, huh?” Beth asked, the phone barely reaching the second ring before she picked up.

You flopped onto the couch, your head hitting the cushions with a soft thud. 

“I did,” you groaned.

“And?” She pressed.

“It was fucking amazing, Beth. I’m so screwed.”

“Why? Isn’t this a good thing? You finally hooked up!”

You grabbed a pillow to slap over your face, muffling a frustrated scream so that Beth wouldn’t hear.

“I’m scared, Beth.”

“Scared of falling in love?” Beth asked.

“Scared of getting hurt,” you sighed. 

Beth was quiet for a moment, exhaling before gathering her thoughts and speaking her mind. 

“You can’t let your past get in the way of this, sis,” she started. “Joel sounds like an amazing man, and he’s night and day different from Bennett. I get you’re scared of getting hurt, but I seriously doubt he would do anything to hurt you. Let him in, sis. Let him love you the way you deserve.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to reel in the tears… again. Beth was right, like always, but it didn’t make these feelings easier to battle. There was so much to lose.

“It’s obvious he likes me already, but I’m such a fucking mess. I—I feel so broken, still. What if he gets tired of me? What if he never feels anything more than this?”

“I think he’s already falling in love with you, sis.”

[blackmoonoracle]

BLACKMOONORACLE PRESENTS ...

PICK A CARD • OCTOBER PREDICTIONS

P I L E O N E

Soooo, you’ve definitely got a pretty decent release coming in during the month of october. I specifically heard the releasing of a karmic contract, so, I truly love that for you. You could be making a decision about a connection, it definitely feels like a past energy though. Some sort of cycle you’ve experienced with a particular soul over and over again. You put a stop to this though, I feel like you called it like it was. I’m channeling Vultures by Earl Sweatshirt and the beginning of the song literally goes. “I’ve been on the run, that’s why I go harder than you go. Plus I call em how I see em, maybe that’s why I’m all alone.” Season of the Witch is currently playing and it’s the part that goes “you’ve got to pick up every stitch” it feels like an energy of uprooting. I do feel like this pile has a tendency to hold onto people that don’t serve them in any way shape or form. Channeling Serve the Servants by Nirvana, in specific this part stands out:

“I just want you to know that I don't hate you anymore There is nothing I could say that I haven't thought before”

There feels like a specific intention in this pile to remove themselves from relationships that are dragging them down.

Something may be occurring that is causing you to let go of this connection, like something is going to make you realize you’re wasting your time. It’s not like usual either, it’s like this undismissable feeling of disgust and realization.

The mask is being ripped off, and in a very ugly way LOL.

I feel like whatever information you’re going to learn from this situation is actually going to help you develop better self esteem and turn a new leaf. It feels like a sigh of relief, this person possibly made you feel like you weren’t good enough, or were a bad person. I heard “I’m always the problem” and you’re going to realize that you aren’t and never were the problem.

I literally heard “reactive abuse”.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T W O

You guys are making social waves the month of october by setting harsh boundaries and restrictions in place with others. I heard “Look but don’t touch” I feel like there may be some kind of drama going on in october. I did hear workplace, so for some of you this could be career/reputation/workplace related drama and bs bubbling over. I see you taking things into your own hands and very critically thinking about the situation so you can make a solid decision that is balanced and fair. I also heard “in your favor” I feel like whoever this person you have issues with is doesn’t have a very good reputation. It’s almost like this person speaking so negatively of you constantly is really aggravating other people. Especially because you don’t really talk about them at all. You’ve pretty much moved on from whatever this is.

I heard “bitter ex friend” and I also heard “bite the bullet” and I heard something about a poison apple? Someone could have tried to use an apple in some sort of hex or spellwork towards you. It could be also that someone has poisonous intentions of trying to gain access to you and that you are putting that shit to a stop.

I heard scorpio, so this person could be a scorpio. I see you essentially making a judgment on this person socially which is going to cause other people to really see them in a different light. You could also be bringing context or clarity to some kind of situation, you hold missing information or you are a missing link in some way. I also heard complexity, so this situation could be very complex.

This new judgment will teach you to be more selfish with your time and resources so that you can create a genuine balance in your life.

Too much gratitude I heard, which is lowkey crazy? I think that what that means is that essentially sometimes you put shit on a pedestal. There’s a self worth wound being worked out in this situation tbh.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.

P I L E T H R E E

I see a new financial opportunity becoming available in the month of october for you, something unexpected. It could be in something with creation of some kind, doing and creating content possibly even? I see you handling business matters and phone calls of some kind? I heard admin, so some sort of administrative position? I also heard dream job, so for some of you this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity or for others this could be a really solid offer. I also heard high caliber, but I’m also hearing don’t work yourself to death. This group feels very capricorn type of energy, addicted to working, you love making money. I see where you’ve fought long and hard to get into whatever position is being given to you. I see where you’ve lost so much, in search of stability and I feel like you will need to face your shadow of lack and insecurity while in this job position or offer. It almost feels like some of you may try to eject yourself out of the situation because you’re scared or because it feels too good to be true? I feel like this is a good opportunity, but don’t get wrapped up in social liaison I heard. I feel like you have to learn to be comfortable with not fitting in or being like neck deep in a community. You’re meant to be a bit of an outlier at this current point in time because you are learning something new. You’ve already developed the social skills, this is about developing a deeper personal skillset that you can really utilize to drive you to your success.

I see this group really coming to terms with the past, and releasing either the fear of being seen for who you are. I’m also hearing “of being heard” a fear of being perceived for who you really are. You are healing your relationship to yourself, i heard “grotesque” you might be really mean to yourself a lot of the time. Like highkey you are very impatient and cruel to yourself at times and it lowkey sucks for you. I also heard don’t lose sight of what you have, this new opportunity is here for you to milk it for what it has to offer and then dip when things begin to culminate on a deeper scale for you. Some of you could really go through a deep spiritual awakening and learn what happiness truly means to you as a result of this.

If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram

[reminiscingtonight]

Russo: derby, concussion, care

Derby Day (Alessia Russo x Reader)

[WOSO Masterlist]

“But it’s the North London Derby!”

Alessia huffs and sinks lower on the couch.

“A little blood never hurt anybody.”

Beth doesn’t make eye contact.

“You don’t get it. You’re not a footballer.”

Leah opens her mouth but quickly shuts it when she sees the look on your face.

The three of them are in various shapes, one with an egg on her forehead, another with two icepacks strapped to both ribs, the last with a makeshift ankle brace constructed out of the finest frozen peas from your freezer.

“Honestly, if someone came in here right now they’d think I abused you all!”

Alessia turns her pleading eyes towards Viv but gets no help from the Dutch woman. “She did warn you guys.”

You’re pacing back and forth in front of the three of them. You’ve all been in this position since Viv tried to drop Alessia off at home nearly an hour ago. You took one look at the broken carpool and all but ordered the four gunners into your house.

A last minute work mishap made you miss out on the derby day, but that didn’t stop you from dropping Alessia off at the Emirates before the game. Beth and Leah met the two of you with grins, all but waving off your words of caution before sweeping your girlfriend away.

“I highly recall telling you to take care of yourself, Alessia, did I not? And what was it that you said back to me?”

Your girlfriend mumbles sweet nothings into her sweatshirt, nearly disappearing into the massive thing. You’re sure if she had it her way she’d melt right into the couch.

“Louder! I can’t hear you.”

Your attention’s quickly taken away when you hear Leah’s not-so discrete snickering. She pales when she makes eye contact. 

“Unless the next words out of your mouth is apologizing for not keeping my girlfriend safe like you promised, you shut that mouth, Leah Cathrine.”

Beth snorts before realizing her mistake. 

Your nose flares angrily. “And what do you have to say for yourself? Getting sent off for something as stupid as blocking the keeper’s kick? Honestly, Viv must have the patience of a saint, putting up with you.”

The brunette’s sitting on the other side of the room, watching everything with thinly concealed amusement. A small tweak had her watching the game from the stands. Of course there’s nothing more fun that playing in a North London Derby, but with the high fouls and flying boots that unfolded at the stadium today, Viv would be lying if she said she wasn’t glad to be a spectator. Especially if being sidelined saved her a lecture from you.

There’s another hot reprimand on the tip of your tongue when you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve.

“Babe?”

Alessia’s got the widest eyes, frown set upon her lips as she tries to appeal to your soft side. You’re still mad, but you try to lower your temper at the clear discomfort written across her face.

“My head really hurts. Can I go to bed?”

When Alessia got hurt it took everything in your power not to drive straight to the stadium. Viv had texted you a quick update when Alessia was being checked out, reassuring you that it looked worse than it actually was.

You couldn’t stop yourself from replaying the video over and over, heart breaking every time you watched her head bounce off the ground. But you chose to believe your friend, waiting with nerves while you awaited your girlfriend’s return.

Though all that worry flew right out the door when you caught sight of the other two injured girls. 

“Well I think that’s our cue!” Beth takes her chance to leap forward, hands pulling at her vice captain to follow her. “Goodnight, Russo, Mrs. Russo--” 

Beth chokes on her words when you grab ahold of her collar, stopping her before she can take another step towards the door.

“Now where do the two of you think you’re going?”

The two blondes exchange nervous looks. 

Leah clears her throat. “Home?”

She swallows hard at the hollow laugh you let out.

“Nice try. Captain Nothing’s-Wrong and her sidekick,” you ignore the dirty look Beth gives you at her assignment, “congratulations, thanks to your clear inability to follow the simplest of instructions, the two of you have won yourselves the Alessia Russo night watch shift.”

And with that, you take a seat next to Viv, turning on the TV to something random while you ignore the three cries of protest.

[stargirllanaa]

Pretty when you cry

Warnings: NON-CON SMUT, Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, domestic violence, drug-use, manipulation, lying

Summary: Heavily Based on ‘Pretty when your cry’ by Lana Del Rey, like really heavily, Your relationship with Rafe Cameron is falling apart before you’re eyes.

A/n: First smut 🫣 anyway, request are open so hit my inbox with your darkest ideas! I would definitely recommend listen to Pretty when you cry by Lana Del Rey while reading!! Enjoy <3

Wc: 2k

18+ ONLY MINOR DNI!!

Your friend group had planned a fun night all together; you were all going to stay at the beach till dark and watch the stars. You had been looking forward to it; things had been rocky with Rafe, and you just wanted to get out and enjoy a night with your friends and boyfriend.

As you applied your blush, you were completely lost in thought; images of a few nights ago and your encounter with your boyfriend flashed through your brain.

You tried to focus on your makeup routine, but the bruises that were revealed on your wrist when your sweatshirt sleeve fell were a constant reminder.

“Are you serious, Rafe?” You questioned your boyfriend when you caught him in the bathroom doing a line.

“You said you were done... You said you were quitting.” disappointment filled your voice.

He looked up at you with dilated pupils, trying to wipe away the white powdery residue from under his nose.

“I'm sorry baby… I-” he thought to himself for a minute.

You signed in response.

“I should have known…” you softly said under your breath,

“No… listen…I got into a fight with my dad earlier...This is the last time...” The blonde promised you in a shaky tone.

Your eyes shot to the leftover coke on your bathroom counter; there were about two lines left, you didn't want that shit in your house, and more importantly, you didn't want him doing that shit in your house. So you moved your hand over, ready to wipe it straight onto the floor.

But Rafe saw it coming; he had been analyzing your eyes the whole time. He caught your wrist before it came close to the counter; his grip was tight and rough.

“Come on, baby, don't make this complicated.” your boyfriend threatened as his grip got tighter and tighter.

“Rafe, you're hurting me,” you said as your eyes brimmed with hot tears.

“You’re hurting me, y/n!” he pulled you closer to him; the scent of his cologne was so strong it made you nauseous. “You know I'm going through stuff and… mess up sometimes! And I-”

“You promised me, Rafe!” you cut him off. “You promised you would stop.” tears spilled over, and you smiled, lacking happiness. “But you don't care about that, do you?”

His eyes narrowed at your words, and his grip on your wrist became tighter, causing you to let out a sob.

“You clearly don't give a shit about spending time with me because you're high all the time.” you voiced between sobs. “You don't even give a shit about me…you care about one thing,” you said, voice broken as you used your free hand to point at the two remaining lines on the countertop.

Rafe said nothing, but you could tell you were spot on by how he looked around as his breathing sped up.

He dropped your wrist before leaving the bathroom and the lines he had just fought you over; he made sure to slam the door and stomp down the stairs.

You shivered as you thought about how tight he was holding on to you, but he was high, and people do crazy things under the influence. But the problem was Rafe had been under the influence a lot recently.

And every time he hurt you, it would always go the same way; you guys would argue, usually about his drug problem. He would hurt you, usually to make you shut up. Sometimes were worse than others, but it always ended in you sobbing and him profusely apologizing. He blamed it on the drugs…his dad and you would forgive him. Or he would just leave you there and text you ‘sorry’ later.

You missed the days when the two of you first started dating; everything seemed so simple and sweet… So normal.

You and your boyfriend were going ice skating together; you were excited but nervous. It was your first time, and you didn't want to fall and embarrass yourself.

As you entered the rink, you immediately held onto the railing as you tried to keep your feet in place. They were slipping and sliding everywhere, and the railing was your only hope not to fall and bust your ass.

“Baby,” Rafe said with a slight laugh as he stuck his hand out. “I got you; hold my hand.”

You took his hand, one hand on the railing, one in his. He showed you how to push yourself forward and keep balance, but you were still struggling.

“How do you do that,” you said with a chuckle as if he was a professional ice skater.

“Youre cute,” the blonde said with a smile; the truth was you were the girl he had always dreamed of; you were so naive.

You always hoped he would stop using and times could return to how they were, but part of you knew things would never be how they were; they hadn't been in a long time.

Looking back at the mirror, you realized you had been applying blush to one cheek for about 2 minutes. You needed to finish getting ready. Things would be better tonight, at least you hoped they would be.

When you made it to the beach, Rafe wasn't there yet; that was fine, though he was probably late, traffic or something. You tried your best to focus on your friends, the music, and the alcohol, but as the night went on and the stars came out, Rafe's lack of presence was very noticeable. Your friends and even his friends had asked you where he was, and you just responded with a quiet ‘he’ll be here soon.’ was that true? You didn't know. He wasn't answering texts or calls; you even dm’ed him on Instagram, hoping for a response.

But he didn't show up, he didn't come through… he never did.

And as you looked up at the stars surrounded by friends, all you could think about was when Rafe told you that ‘all the pretty stars had shined for you.’

———-

One of your friends dropped you back home after your night out. Rafe was supposed to take you home with him, but it was apparent why that didn't happen.

As soon as you started taking off your jewelry, your phone started ringing; you looked over at it to see who was calling and quickly picked it up.

“Rafe, are fucking kiddi-” you started.

“Open the door. I'm outside,” he stated before hanging up.

You rolled your eyes at the sound of him ending the call; you were so fucking angry. The two of you were supposed to have fun tonight, not fight. He stood you up. He did this shit all the time, using stupid excuses like, ‘I lost track of time,’ ‘my dad and I got into a fight again,’ and ‘I fell asleep.’ But those excuses could only work so many times.

As you stomped down your stairs to the front door, you took a deep breath; you didn't want things to go left more than they already had, but that didn't stop you from opening the door when your gut told you not to.

Rafe pushed past you, letting himself into your house.

“Baby, I'm sorry I lost track of time.” classic Rafe.

You looked down at your phone, taking in the time, then back at him.

“For 4 hours, Rafe?” You scoffed at his words; how many times would he use that excuse?

“The ‘fight with your dad’ would have worked better this time.” you sarcastically stated as you rolled your eyes.

“Don't be like that.” the blonde spoke as he walked closer to you.

“No, don't tell me how to act! You always do this to me.” your eyes brimmed with tears as you thought about how broken your relationship was.

Rafe brought his hand up to your face, initially causing you to flinch, but he brought it closer to the top of your head and began stroking your hair.

“I'm sorry… stuff's been hard for me with my da-.” he started.

“I can't do this.” you tearfully confessed, trying to pull away from him.

His hand paused in your hair, but he still kept you close.

“What do you mean ‘you can't do this?’” your boyfriend questioned, voice mixed with confusion and anger.

“Rafe, let go of me.” you calmly stated, trying to get away before things got ugly.

The hand stroking your hair was now grabbing a handful of it; he pulled you back slightly, but only enough to make eye contact.

“I need you, y/n,” Rafe said as his eyes narrowed.

“Don't say that-” you stated under your breath, looking down at the floor.

“Don't say I need you?” the blonde asked you as he pulled your hair slightly, forcing you to look back at him.

“You know you're just gonna leave again,” you shouted through tears.

Rafe looked away from you, thinking of what he should do; he needed you; you couldn't leave; you couldn't just decide that you ‘couldn't do this.’. He had to show you how much he needed you.

You gasped as Rafe’s grip on your hair tightened as he started dragging you. The pain coming from your head was so brutal it left you screaming for him to stop. Before you knew it, he pulled you up by your hair and pushed you back onto the couch. You were terrified; when you looked into his eyes, they were darker, just like they were the night he grabbed your wrist, and every time he had ever hurt you before, but you were confused; he usually just slapped and pushed you around. This was a different level; he had never taken it this far.

“Rafe!” was all you screamed out before he cut you off.

“You don't think I need you?” he smirked before pushing your hair back so he could see your whole face. “I need you so bad you don't even understand.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering how hurting you could possibly show that he needed you, but when you saw him start to undo his pants, everything became a lot clearer.

“Rafe..” you trailed off, hoping he wasn't about to do what you thought he was.

“Shhh baby... You’re okay.” the blonde says as he reaches under your skirt.

“No, I can't do this,” you said as you tried to sit up, but your boyfriend immediately pushed you back down.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.” He hissed, clearly annoyed by your words; he had already made up his mind; there was no going back now.

And when you felt him inside of you, you couldn't stop the sobs that escaped from the back of your throat, and when you glanced back at him to see him staring directly into your eyes while taking advantage of you, it made your stomach turn.

“Fuck” Rafe said with a moan, “you're so pretty when you cry.”

[daengtokki]

part four // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 10.6k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, sex, self harm mention, abuse mention, medication usage, hallucinations

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

˗ˋˏ♡ Please support and reblog if you enjoy! Reblogs help your favorite writers on Tumblr! ˎˊ˗

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

seungmin-ah! mo! haha…come here, you know you’re in trouble!

whyyy? I didn’t do anything umma

are you sure? let’s go look at what you didn’t do…let’s go look at that empty plate, sweetheart

I didn’t eat those cakes

oh? did daengmo eat them? I know he has a sweet tooth, just like you…

His eyes open slowly. Everything is a blur as Seungmin tries to look around him, but it’s so dark. He blinks, and a tear runs to the corner of his eye. The first thing he latches onto, the closest thing, is your arm. His fingers close gently around your wrist as he finds himself.

Min?

He lets go and pulls at the collar of his shirt in an attempt to wipe his face dry.

“Seungmin…it’s okay.” You grab his hand and wait for him to look at you. Eyes still wet with tears, he lays back down and stares at the ceiling. “Just a nightmare, you’re okay now.”

“Not a nightmare.” Seungmin breathes deep, and his eyes dart back and forth in the dark as he remembers. “Just a memory, I think.”

The bedroom is cold. Outside, it’s abnormally cold. You feel a shiver move through him as you run your hand up and down his forearm—there’s another blanket in the chest, but first, you have to brave the icy floor to get it. “Be right back.” You slide out from under the covers and wince when your feet hit the hardwood and tiptoe the rest of the way there.

“What are you doing out there?”

You swing the creaky lid open and dig around for the heaviest one you can find. “I want that flannel blanket…oh, this one.” The lid comes down faster and heavier than you intend, and the sound feels unimaginably loud cutting through the middle-of-the-night silence. “Sorry…” The music box lets a note free, and then another. You look up at it, and the lid is propped open. Seungmin must have been in there, you think. There are a few dried flowers scattered inside and around it when you gently close it.

“It’s okay,” Seungmin says, and you can see his smile as your eyes adjust to the darkness. When you jump back in, he holds the covers open to show you exactly where he wants you. His body is warm, but the goosebumps are still all over his arms.

“January is awful”

“You told me you liked winter”

“I like this,” you squeeze him and push your face into his chest. “Tell me about your dream.”

The soft sounds of a guitar wake you. G chord, C, G, D—whatever it is, it’s simple…and it’s nice. You wait and listen for a few minutes as the music builds, hoping you might finally hear him sing. Seungmin keeps you on edge, though. He stops, so you roll over and look at him.

“Finally,” he sets the guitar back on its stand.

“Finally what?”

“You looked so comfortable over there, I was getting jealous”

“Oh, you couldn’t get back to sleep?”

Seungmin stands and stretches. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, and his sweatshirt is pulled up just enough for you to catch his belly button, until he tugs at the hem, “I did for a little while.”

You pull the covers down, “so get back in.”

“It’s noon”

“Then sing something for me, don’t you think I’ve suffered enough?”

A month living under his roof, and making him laugh is still a treat. It’s not quite as rare as it used to be, but Seungmin still has his days, his nights, and his moments of uneasiness and agitation in your shared space.

~

“How long have you lived in this big apartment all by yourself?” You asked him a few weeks ago. There never seems to be a good time for most of these little questions, so you force them in whenever you can, and whenever you remember. Whenever you think he might answer them.

“Almost five years, I was nineteen when I moved in”

“That answers another burning question.” Do you tell him now that you’re older than him, or wait until he asks? You doubt he’ll care. “All alone, no other roommates?”

He gives you a look and raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you are? My roommate?”

“I’m not not your roommate”

“Do I make you feel like my roommate?”

It’s a sweet, introspective question for him. Seungmin doesn’t talk very much, but when you get him going, he’s good at keeping up. Sometimes, you do feel like his roommate, because some nights he falls asleep on the couch, and sometimes you do the same, depending on where his head has been that day. There have been days when Seungmin hasn’t spoken a single word to you.

~

“Is that a no?” His face says a lot, but it doesn’t answer your question, “no song for me?”

The bottom of his sweatshirt is suddenly very interesting. He pulls it more and squeezes the fabric in his fist as he tries to avoid your gaze. “Uhm…I’ve never sung for anyone before. I wouldn’t know what to sing anyway. I don’t know what you’d want to hear.”

The shyness might be an act, but it’s cute, and you like it. “You can sing me the alphabet, I don’t care. A nursery rhyme. Your favorite song.” Seungmin’s face turns so red, that you almost change the subject completely. Pushing him has gotten easier, but you’re still careful. You resist the urge to ask if his mother sang him anything as a child, considering last night's dream, and the tears he tried to hide.

“I’ll think about it, my favorite…and maybe I will tonight”

“Really?”

He nods, and his phone starts to vibrate somewhere on the bed. You can feel it, and just as you shove your hand beneath his pillow, Seungmin’s slips under, too, and he gets there first.

Annyeonghaseyo, he says quietly and walks toward the balcony window.

You’ve continued your language classes because you have no job and nothing else to fill your time. Any reason to get out of the house and give him his space is welcome, even if it is only three days a week. You’re no good yet, but the point is, you notice he answered formally, and very unlike how he typically sounds, and you’re curious. He very rarely speaks to anyone on the phone.

When he hangs up, he keeps his gaze down toward his phone and types something, and then he sighs one of his sighs—a little exaggerated, and very him. You love his sighs because it’s one of the few signals he gives you when something is bothering him.

“Did you eat breakfast, are you hungry?” Seungmin never asks anything of you; he likes to cook, and he seems to be naturally tidy. He never makes messes…well, usually. “I can make us something…American.” You head toward his keyboard and run a finger over it. It’s off, so you press one of the keys.

“American? Steak and eggs and potatoes?” He’s still distracted by something on his phone, but he must be hungry. He knows what he wants.

“Yeah, I just need to go get some steak”

“Can you? I have to…uh,” he scratches his head. “I have something I need to do.” He sees your face change. “Not that, something else.”

“Yeah, of course.” Something to do with his phone call, and whatever he’s been doing on the phone, you assume. You'll find out later, hopefully.

The bus is crowded, but he braves it. Sometimes he likes to be a little more anonymous, and this is the best way to do that. The office building is only a dozen or so blocks away from his building, but it’s too cold for a long walk.

“Do you have an appointment?” The woman behind the desk doesn’t pay much attention to Seungmin until his soft yes, I do hits her ears. The look she gives him turns bashful and flirtatious, but it doesn’t do much for him. “Your name?”

“Kim Seung Min”

“Date of birth?”

“September twenty-second…two-thousand”

“Oh here you are, it was just added…Dr…oh, Dr. Mun”

There’s only one doctor in this building who specializes in what Seungmin needs, and the receptionist has no tact when she realizes it. She avoids his gaze as she finishes typing and granting him access. “Ninth—“

“I know where it is”

/ / /

“Seungmin, how have you been?” Her heels click as she walks across the dark wood floor, and it’s a little hypnotizing. “Can I still call you Seungmin, or should we go back to formal? It’s been quite a while.”

The click click stops when she sits, but returns with the slightly more annoying sound of the pen. It’s weird being back in this room, but it feels familiar still—the smell, the lights, the colors. “Seungmin is fine. I don’t like being spoken to formally.”

“Yes, I do remember that now. Please, tell me how things have been. I know I’m not your usual therapist, but you haven’t gone to a session with him in over a year, so…”

“It wasn’t helping”

“I know you feel-“

“It wasn’t. Every session made me feel worse, and he had no sympathy for anything I managed to dig up.”

“Okay. Have you been back home lately?”

His heart races, and it’s too warm in here. Seungmin slides out of his jacket and pulls at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Last month.”

“How was it, did you…want to talk about any of that? Was she there for you still?”

He manages a nod. She’s always there. She’s everywhere, but there…that’s where she truly is.

“Not to switch subjects so quickly, but…” she says as her eyes travel over him, “what happened here?” Dr. Mun taps her pen to her neck, “I only ask because it looks very painful.”

The bruise you gave him two nights ago; the one he begged you for, even as you squeezed to the point of him nearly passing out. It’s probably at its worst right now. You’re stronger than you look. He sets his hand over it, pushes a little, and savors the pain still there.

“And because I know you’ve hurt yourself in the past. Is that was this is?”

It might be easier to lie and tell her he did it to himself, because talking about you wasn’t supposed to be part of this today. He’s only here because she threatened to hold the medication he actually uses. Seungmin shakes his head, though.

“Someone else did it?”

He nods.

“Because you asked them to, I assume? Do you trust this person?”

Does he trust you? He must. You share a bed, and you’re feet away from his knife. He took you home with him and let you listen in as he spoke to someone you couldn’t see, and you haven’t questioned him about it. Seungmin begs you to bite and cut and choke him, which you do, and all of your time in between is spent waiting and longing for something more. He knows that.

“Yes, I do”

“As long as I’ve been your doctor, three years, you’ve been by yourself…single. Is that no longer the case?” She tries to read his facial cues and his fidgeting hands. “Maybe it’s nothing serious, hm? Just casual? That’s also good, because you’re letting someone in, even in some small way. You trust someone besides yourself. That’s great, considering you haven’t been keeping up with your medication.”

“So I don’t need it”

“One good step doesn’t make everything better. I’m glad you came and saw me at such short notice, and I know you want the lorazepam to help you sleep, but I would also like your word that you’ll try the Haldol. I’ll write your new prescription, but please…just give it some time.

Hopefully, the smell of a very late breakfast brightens him up, because Seungmin didn’t seem happy when he left earlier. One thing he seems to respond to when nothing else works is food.

He walks in wordlessly, takes off his jacket, and tosses it on the couch. There’s no change in his facial expression. It’s as if he left, and then walked right back in. But he doesn’t look more upset, thankfully; just blank. He’s feeling nothing, or trying his best to look like he’s feeling nothing.

“Hey…Min.” You look at the paper bag clutched in his hand, and it’s easy to figure out what could be inside. You came back a little bit ago with the same one. “Foods all ready.”

The smile isn’t forced, “okay,” but it’s not easy, either. “I’ll be right back out.”

Seungmin doesn’t close the door, so you try to peek in from where you stand. All you can see is the bed, but you do hear the rustle of his bag, and the subtle sound of full pill bottles as he sets them on his table. So if you have any deduction skills at all—the phone call was from his doctor, or his therapist, or something along those lines. The hour and a half he was gone was spent with one of them, and then he stopped at the pharmacy a block down the street for his prescriptions. Easy enough. You hope he’ll feel comfortable enough to tell you all of this on his own.

Before he comes out, you hear the pop of a lid, and the shake of one of the bottles against his hand. When he comes back out, he takes the coffee you hold out for him and swallows one, or both, of his pills.

“It smells good,” he says, and he stays there. Seungmin stares at you.

“Good. Are you alright?” You try not to stare back, but each time you look up, he’s still looking. “Did you do what you had to do?”

“I did”

“Did I do that?” The bruise on the side of his neck pops out at you. It’s big and dark against the white of his shirt collar. Seungmin doesn’t move when you reach out and touch it. “Does it still hurt?”

“Yes, and yes.” He sets his hand over yours and rubs it against the spot. “It feels good.”

“Seungmin?”

He stops but keeps his hand on yours. The doctor’s words are ringing through his head as he watches your eyes dart back and forth between his. How much does he actually trust you? How far has he let you in, and how much has he given of himself? Too much? Enough to keep you here? “Yeah?” You don’t ask him a lot of personal questions.

What if you did ask him about his appointment? Would it be that bad? If he took his medication like you assume he just did a moment ago, broaching the subject should be even easier. That’s not the only subject you need to broach with him, though.

“Did you have a doctor’s appointment?

His eyes answer you before you hear the soft mhm.

“How did it go?” At any moment you expect him to let go of your hand and retreat, but he doesn’t.

“It was okay. Uhm…that medicine makes me very tired, so if I fall asleep, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you can sleep all day if you need to. But eat something first.”

/ / /

The space between wakefulness and sleep is much too big. Seungmin is stuck in it—he knows that...he feels it. Like twilight in the backyard after a hot summer day. You turned the heat up a little, but you also laid the blanket over him and pulled it up past his bruised neck.

It feels good; the soft warmth of the couch, and the silky pillow under his head. And he can see you from here, moving back and forth in his vision, disappearing and reappearing as you…well, he’s not sure what you’re doing. He likes watching you, though.

“Hey, you’ve been out for a while”

Your voice floats to him, and it takes an extra moment before he grasps what you say. Seungmin nods.

“There’s some water here if you need it”

He opens his eyes fully and looks at your smiling face. Why are you so happy? No, not happy. Smiling, yes, but your eyes give you away. “Thank you.” Seungmin feels your lips on his temple, then on his cheek. Why? There’s nothing here worth loving. He’s just an empty shell. “Thank you.”

“You’ll feel better soon. Close your eyes and sleep a little more.”

Thankfully, he does.

It’s completely dark when he wakes again, and so quiet that it puts him into a sudden panic. He’s still asleep, and he’s back in his nightmare. His heart races, and he can practically smell the dirt…until he realizes he’s not alone. Seungmin moves his leg, and his foot slides over your thigh. You’re here…asleep, curled up in the small space he left at the end of the couch. He moves his foot over you again, hoping to wake you, and it works.

You close your hand around his ankle, “hey sleepyhead…”

“What time is it?”

“Good question,” you tap your phone screen and squint at it. “Just after midnight.”

“Fuck, I slept all day?”

He did, and while he slept, you checked to see if he was still on the same medication, the same dosage. Haldol and Xanax. Seungmin took one of each earlier, and his body never stood a chance against it. You also took care of your own problems while he was out, and finally getting it out of the way calmed you a little.

“You just have to adjust, that’s all…yeah?”

Seungmin still feels like he’s floating. He sits up more, and looks at you. It's too dark, and he can't see you very well, so he moves closer. “It won’t fix me.”

“No, you’re not broken." You don't know if Seungmin knows you know exactly what he's taking, but he's smart enough to realize you're going to look around any chance you get, because he did it to you with your backpack. Both of you, quiet, tiptoeing around each other to find answers instead of asking.

"No?" He moves closer still, and practically puts himself in your lap.

/ / /

Something sweet…you said, walking to each corner of the kitchen and collecting things. He needs something sweet to eat, that will make him feel better. The smell of cinnamon and apples made it to him as he showered, and that alone did make him feel a little better.

“It hasn’t been back lately, but…” he looks at the perfect baked apple in front of him and cuts it in half.

“What hasn’t?”

“The noise, the itch. It’s been a while.”

“Is that bad?” You noticed, of course, that he hasn’t left the house lately with the urge to find someone. He hasn’t come home with anyone. The idea that you somehow changed something in him hasn’t crossed your mind, because it’s silly—what you have done, maybe, is filled up those spaces in his mind that were once left to their own devices. Seungmin has already told you he’s been here, alone, for years, and that the company he’s kept has never lasted beyond the hour they arrived. "Or is that good?"

“I’m worried it’ll come back, and be worse”

“Has that happened before? Has it gone away, and built up to something bigger?”

Seungmin takes a big bite of his apple, and the taste hitting his tongue makes him smile. Yes, it has happened, but he was a teenager then, and he lacked self-control. It’s not something he wants to think about, or talk about right now. But he nods. “This is very good, thank you.”

“We’ll deal with it when the time comes, if it does”

Will you? It seemed sincere, the way you said it, and the way you looked at him.

we’ll deal with it

we

we?

Too much sleep is weighing on him now. Seungmin felt so tired as he ate the dessert you made for dinner, and while he struggled to brush his teeth. Now the sleep eludes him—but he’s comfortable, at least. You bought new flannel sheets, and new pillows, so the bed hasn’t felt this soft and warm in a long time. And you, you’re sound asleep a few inches away, content. Seungmin likes to stare, discreetly if he can manage, and so often he’s spent far too long watching you. He doesn’t do it while you sleep. This morning, he got right up and went about his day, not concerning himself with how late you stayed in bed. Not until he got bored. You’re usually up before him, so he missed a perfect opportunity to look at you without worrying about getting caught and making you uncomfortable.

The first time he saw you on the street, he did think you were pretty. He doesn’t typically interact with foreigners, or tourists, despite speaking English fluently, but seeing you changed that. Seungmin still can’t figure out why. Maybe if he bothered to ask a single thing about you, he could figure something out. Where are you from, and why are you still here after weeks of sometimes being paid attention to? Today, despite him sleeping for nearly all of it, was probably good for you.

Seungmin drops his gaze when you shift. Your hand slides up the sheet and stops just short of his. He watches it for a moment…and his pinky twitches. You never have trouble sleeping next to him, even though he nearly killed you. That night still lives at the front of his memory, and it replays over and over sometimes. It’s replaying for him right now, because you looked just like this—like you were sleeping.

He moves a little closer, and his hand slides over yours. You groan, but your eyes remain closed. Seungmin says your name, softly, because he isn’t sure he wants you to hear, but…he wants you awake with him. One more whisper, and he sees your lashes shift as your eyes start to move.

“Seungmin?” Before you even look around, you call for him. “Did you say my name?”

“Maybe”

“Maybe?”

Your sleepy laugh makes his stomach flutter, and he almost turns away. He has to force himself to stay put.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

The warmth of your hand on his cheek sets his stomach in motion again, and he doesn’t like the feeling. It’s too much. Seungmin closes his eyes when you don’t take yours off of him. Touching comes easy for you, but you don’t do it often—Seungmin wonders if that's his fault...if his distance keeps you away. You mean it when you do touch him, though, like right now. Like when you wake up tangled together, as if your unconscious bodies can’t stay separated.

“Can’t sleep? That makes sense. What time is it?”

“Four o’clock”

“We could go for a walk”

“It’s freezing out”

“We could… go to that all-night cafe and try all the cakes”

“That’s tempting, but…” the flutter in his stomach turns to butterflies as he reaches out for you. “The bed is nice and warm,” he moves closer, close enough to tuck himself against you and fill himself up with your scent. You still smell the same as you did before; that deep, dark floral scent—flowers that only bloom when the sun goes down. Moonflowers, and night phlox. He wants to tell you that. Seungmin wants to tell you he gave you the wrong flowers, and that he needs to find you the right ones.

“We can stay up. I’ll stay awake with you.”

“You will?”

“I’ll try my best”

Seungmin looks up at you, and his eyes make you feel like you’re melting. He pulls back just enough to still share your pillow. “Do you really not want to go back home?” He knows it’s a heavy question, but how else can he start?

“Do you want me to?”

He watches as the color drains from your face. “No…did I word that wrong? No, I don’t want that.”

“Then no, I don’t want to go back home. I promise you, I don't.”

“Where is home? Was…where was home?”

“A town called Point Pleasant”

“Pleasant?” He smiles. “Point Pleasant.”

“Yeah, Uljin reminded me of it, a little. The woods, and the feeling it gave me.”

“Why did you leave? I know you told me before, when we had lunch…is that the only reason?” You close your eyes and think, and Seungmin watches every tiny movement of your face. “Maybe it is, I’m sorry.”

“No, it wasn’t”

“We don’t have to talk about it”

“There was no ex, but I was trying to get away from...uhm, everyone else. I lied to you."

“Why did you lie?” Seungmin whispers, because he can feel something change in the way you speak. You sound on the brink of tears, but you’re also hiding from him. "You can tell me, it's okay."

“I lied about my job, and about needing help getting home. I lied about how long I've been in Seoul. I wanted to seem more interesting, more helpless than I was. You seemed hard to impress, and I didn’t know why someone as good-looking as you was even talking to me. I still don’t.”

“You don’t?”

You shake your head.

“I should be the only one wondering that.” He can’t bring himself to ask why you had to run from everyone, and why running to him turned into your solution. He doesn't care about your lies, though. His whole life is built on lying to himself and to everyone else. “Close your eyes. Sleep."

“No, I’ll stay up”

“Close your eyes, I’ll be right behind you.”

/ / /

he is right behind you. and he’s fast, so much faster. the unbearable sound of mud underfoot as you slip and try desperately to gain some purchase, but you don’t know this ground like he does…and it’s dark but it’s midday, you think. you don’t dare look behind you, though, because he’ll be there when you do. free of the pine trees, at least, and there’s some light trying desperately to get through the clouds. the only thing standing is the shed. barely standing. it’s quiet. he stopped. maybe he turned back. but you have to hide. the shed is the only place.

the inside is somehow worse. everything is visible through the cracks in the wooden slats, so you watch the woods. the mud grabs your boots, and you’re pulled in even more as you try to move. a twig snaps, a cloud of warm breath sneaks past your ear. you can smell it.

seungmin? your voice is shaky. he likes how scared you are.

another breath tickles your ear, so you decide to look. you should at least face him when he jumps, right?

you turn, slowly, and move your eyes up a long white snout until you find them…two black eyes, shiny and sad, ready to swallow you up. a growl from his chest, and then every sharp tooth is out.

no, you promised

“Hey…hey, relax”

The voice comes from the big white dog, or seems to.

“Please, it’s me…open your eyes”

Something wet on your neck, your throat. Breath? No, warm lips. Why hasn’t he ripped you apart, what is he waiting for?

“I know, you’re stuck…it’s okay”

Finally, something shifts and you finally open your eyes. Two big black ones stare back at you, unblinking.

“No! Don’t touch me!”

Seungmin releases his grip on your wrist and backs away. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. You’re okay now. You were dreaming.”

You pull yourself up against the pillows, bringing the blankets with you as you fold yourself up. The collar of your shirt is soaked through with sweat, and you swear you can smell the fear coming off of you. Seungmin keeps his distance, but his eyes never leave you—they take in every movement as you fidget and pull yourself even tighter together.

“…just a bad dream. Really bad. You were, uh—“

“I was what?” You look around the room, and try to gauge the time by the amount of light coming in. It’s still early in the morning, you think. A few hours ago you were awake and talking with him.

“You said my name, and you were crying. Did I hurt you?”

“No.” But he was going to. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe you can tell me about it later, when it doesn’t feel so real anymore”

“Yeah”

Seungmin wants to assure you that he won’t hurt you, but he’s not certain how to tell you again. He doesn’t blame you for being afraid, though, even after everything. “You said…no, you promised. Were you saying that to me?”

You don’t answer.

“I’ll go make coffee”

He pulls the door closed and leaves you alone with your thoughts, but you don’t want this quiet, either. Maybe he’ll come back if you call for him. No, he’ll absolutely come back if you call for him.

But you don’t. You look around the sun-filled room like you’re searching for a clue. Everything is the same as it’s been for weeks, and he’s the same, so why is your head suddenly betraying you? You stand on sore, shaky legs and feel yourself floating toward the door. Seungmin’s back is to you at the kitchen counter, white tshirt hanging loosely on his shoulders. The sun is bright in here, too, and you can practically see through him as he moves around like water. He stretches and rolls his neck, lifts his shirt, and you’re hypnotized by the sight of his back, the paleness of his winter skin as he pulls it over his head. Seungmin shakes the hair from his face as he turns, and he catches you there, peeking from the open doorway.

“Hi.” He holds his shirt against his torso as you examine him, as if he has something to hide. His faded orange bangs fall right back in his face. The dark roots have grown out significantly in such a short time, but he hasn’t been out much, and he hasn’t had a reason to change anything.

“I can trim your hair for you, if you’d like”

/ / /

It’s a little awkward at first, setting him down and running your fingers through his damp hair, both of you staring at each other in the bathroom mirror. You insisted on the conditioning treatment, mostly so you could wet him down in the bathtub, run it through his hair, and touch him a little more than you have lately. He smirked the entire time, probably feeling overwhelmed by the intimacy.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks the mirrored version of you. “I know how dreams can mess with your head.”

“A little.” You snip a few times, comb through it, snip again. “I’ll be okay.”

“Have you done this before?”

“I used to cut my own, and my sisters. It’s been a while, though.”

“Why did you do your own hair?”

“Haircuts were expensive”

He nods, not needing any more explanation than that, and he lets you continue cutting. “It was me, in your dream?”

“I think so. I mean, my dream self thought it was you.” Seungmin is confused, you can see that. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“That’s okay, I doubt I could explain mine either.” He watches his hair fall on the white tile, piece by piece. “Even though they’re always the same.”

“Mine are never quite the same, except for the…except for the shed. And the mud. The smell.”

Seungmin looks up at you before your next cut. “The what?”

You think as you tousle his hair, and find a few more spots to trim in the back.

“The smell. Do you smell things in your dreams? It’s always wet and gross, like decay. Sometimes it stays stuck in my nose even after I wake up.”

“Shed?”

“Yeah, yeah…I think so. It was this time, for sure. I’m usually already inside when the dream starts, looking out. This time I ran inside to hide.”

“From me?”

“Sort of”

“Sort of? Either it was me or it wasn’t.”

His words come out sharp, and it goes right through you. It reminds you of the big, impatient voice he used on his last victim.

“I’m finished”

You toss the scissors in the sink and leave him there. Seungmin doesn’t speak up again before you gently close the door, and he doesn’t come out right away. Cleaning up, you assume, and then you hear him in the shower. He takes his time.

The television isn’t typically on, but this morning, you need the noise to drown out the leftover scenes playing in your head. It’s still too vivid. You turn on the news, and pretend you can understand what they’re saying. The isolated feeling doesn’t always bother you—sometimes it creeps up, and you remember everything here is foreign except for a few of your classmates, and Seungmin. If you think about it too much…

The story on the news changes, and you focus on it. Korean or not, you can figure out what’s going on; what they’re talking about, and what the footage appears to be showing. It’s a crime scene. A body was found.

Seungmin finally emerges from the bathroom, and when you glance up at him, he looks a little dejected. He combs his fingers through his damp hair, and his bangs hit just above his eyebrows. Maybe you cut it a little too short.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Is that your body?”

“My what?”

“On the news. Is that where you dumped it?”

Seungmin turns and looks at the screen, but you can’t tell by his reaction if it’s a yes or a no. He just stares quietly, listening to every word. Eventually, he looks at you. “It’s fine. This has happened before.”

Your stomach drops. “It has? What if someone saw you?“

“Nobody saw me. You don’t have to worry, I promise.”

But you will worry. "I should dye your hair back to black." What if something happens, and you lose him? After all you’ve been through in the last few weeks…how much closer you’ve managed to get—which isn't very close, you admit. You can’t. “And I will worry. I’m not losing you.”

“Lose me?”

“I can’t”

He plays with his hair again, messes it up, and then takes a few steps toward the couch. It feels short, but it looked nice in the mirror. He’s not really worried about it. He still hasn’t felt any urges to go out and find someone, so he has no reason to look good for anyone, anyway—just you. The subject on the news changes, and you seem to relax. You look up at him and force a smile.

Seungmin sits, leaving some space between you, and he keeps his hands tucked between his thighs. “I didn't mean to snap at you.”

“Why did you? We were only talking about my dream.”

Because I’m an asshole he thinks. An impatient, insensitive pick who doesn’t deserve your kindness. Because I have has one true setting, and it’s self-sabotage. “They’re the same as mine.” He shuts his mind up and says. “Parts of them, at least. We’re dreaming of the same place, I think.”

“The shed?”

“Yes, the shed. The one next to the greenhouse.”

How did you fail to notice that? How did you not put that together? You saw it with your own eyes after seeing it several times in your head. You ran to it this morning, and looked out through the cracks in the wood. The smell. The mud you sunk into. That was the first time you were there—when you were dead on Seungmin’s bed.

“The nightmares you always have, it’s the shed?”

“Sometimes. Depends on which part of the nightmare I’m on. It replays in my mind like a movie; I’ll get some pieces one night, and then another piece the next, or a few nights later.”

“It’s always the same?”

“Little details change. And it’s not always in order, because my memory isn’t perfect, I guess.”

You see his fingers twitch, and you don’t resist the urge to reach for his hand. Seungmin squeezes yours back.

“You’re reliving a memory?”

“Yes, over and over. The worst memory. It always feels new in my head.” Saying it loud feels like a dream in itself. Having someone actually listen, and seem concerned. Having someone share in the dread that place gives him.

Do you just not remember him telling you about the shed before? He’s mentioned his nightmares, but you don’t remember him giving out any details, and when he talks in his sleep, you don’t understand him. Try as you might, you can’t actually read Seungmin’s mind.

“But it never comes together”

Do you change the subject, or assume he wants to talk about it? He looks on the verge of tears—angry ones, and you don’t want him walking through his nightmare while he’s awake. "Can I have a kiss?”

It’s been a while. Seungmin isn’t a goodnight or good morning kisser. He doesn’t sneak up behind you and peck your cheek (though sometimes, he does it when he thinks you're asleep). You have to wait for sex to get his needy, vehement mouth. That, or you have to take them yourself. You’ve only done that twice, and the first time, you had a knife to his throat.

He leans in and stops short, licks his lips…his eyes still shine with what he’s holding back…and gives you one long kiss before pulling back enough to look at you. “Just one?”

You take the second one, and Seungmin touches you. He pulls you closer, leans back against the couch, and gives you space to straddle his thighs. A kiss will almost always turn into this if you let it. Usually you do, because you want it, but not making another move right now is taking all of your energy. Still, you touch his stomach and side until his muscles twitch and tighten.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers.

“Wrong? Nothing…nothing is wrong.”

Seungmin holds you steady as he sits up again, and he places another soft kiss on your lips. “I should go take my pill.”

/ / /

The Haldol hits him again, and just like yesterday, he’s stuck and wandering around his head. You’ll adjust, you told him. He hopes you’re right because he’s never done this more than two days in a row. This isn’t how he wants to feel. But you’re here now, leaning against his shoulder, talking softly about something. What if he just told you how much having you with him right now means to him? It would get stuck in his throat, no doubt, but he could at least try.

He stops thinking for a moment, and listens.

Is there a dog in your dreams? Was there ever?

No he thinks he says… no, there was never a dog

A big white dog

No, no…he wouldn’t let me have a dog

Something runs across the room, but he only catches it in his peripheral vision. Just a shadow, bouncing on four legs…

What was that? he tries to stand, but he only makes it to the edge of the couch. Seungmin looks down at his bare feet against the gray carpet…scrunches his toes, and moves his feet against the soft fibers.

What is it? Do you want me to get you something…sweetheart

Sweetheart? Me? He sees it again. It moves slowly across the room, stops, and looks at him down its long black nose. Where did you come from?

Who? Who are you talking to? Seungmin…

He follows it around the kitchen counter, but there’s nothing there. Nothing beneath the bar. Seungmin opens the counter and looks inside, pulls out the trash can and sends it to floor.

“Seungmin, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He presses his palm to his forehead and sighs, “I don’t know.” He turns and looks at the mess he made, and kneels to clean it.

“I can clean that up, go sit down”

“I’m fine, I’m—“ You hear him sigh again. “What is this?” He reaches for something you can’t see, and then slowly gets back to his feet.

“What?” Your heart beats wildly as he turns, and you can see what he has in his hand. It was stupid of you to not tell him about it before, and you know that—you tried to wait for a good time, and the time never came. “I was going to talk to you about it…I should have told you.”

“Are you?” He looks at you, then back down to the little pink box in his hands. "Are you pregnant?"

“No, it was negative. I would have told you right away if it came back positive.”

“Negative? Why did you think you were?”

“I felt off." Tired, sick, sad...even when you open your eyes and see him in front of you. "I didn‘t know what else it could have been.”

“Do you still feel…off?”

You do, but you don’t want him to have that on his mind. Realizing you’ve been sharing dreams, one of his bodies being found, and now Seungmin seeing things in the kitchen is already too much for one day. “I’m alright...just tired.”

He’s still staring at the crumpled box in his hands, and you can tell he’s thinking, wondering, forming a question. His face gives him away—another one of his few tells. “When did you take it?”

“Yesterday, while you were asleep”

“Maybe you should take another, just to be sure”

The second test is negative. You knew it would be, because you’re starting to realize the off feeling started when you went home with him, driving through the woods, stepping foot on the ground where the shed and the greenhouse sit. You can’t explain why, and it doesn’t make logical sense, but it’s all you have for now. And the shared dreams. You’re starting to wonder exactly what happens in Seungmin’s dream. His worst memory.

He’s been standing just inside the bathroom door, watching you sit on the edge of the bathtub. You hope he doesn’t think you’re lying to him about the first result, but why else would he hover like this? Seungmin doesn’t seem the type to wait breathlessly for a different outcome. Nothing about him makes you think he wants to be a father.

But you don’t know, and you can’t assume there isn’t something inside of him that wants that. You doubt yourself more than anything. Not just doubt, you know you have no business being a mother.

You walk to the edge of the sink, but he gets there first.

“It’s negative?”

“Yes, this one is negative, too.”

He picks it up and looks at the little window, and the single pink vertical line inside.

“Are you upset? You seem…down.”

Seungmin stares for another few moments, then shakes his head. “Upset? No. We should be more careful.” He drops it into the trash can, and he’s gone before you can speak again.

“Can you please tell me what you’re feeling?” He has no business keeping quiet about something that would affect you both so massively. “Or thinking about, at least.”

“I’m not thinking about anything”

“You don’t have to hide everything from me. I know I’m still new here, but I think I deserve a little bit more of you.”

“You do...you think that?"

The silence is horrible. His stare is empty, you hope it’s just him trying to get out of this conversation, or maybe his medicine still hanging over him.

“Yes”

“You get so much of me, don’t you see that? More than I've given anyone, ever. And more than you’ve given me.”

“I wasn’t sure if you cared about what I had to give.” Your voice shakes, your throat collapses, and your attempt at a deep breath comes out as a pathetic whimper. The tears are already starting, so trying to hide them seems pointless. "But I'll tell you anything you wanna know. I'll give you anything you want."

Still, he stares, but his face changes when he sees the tears falling, and hears the tightness in your chest.

“Please, don’t cry,” he says, and it sounds so exasperated, so over everything.

Your mind reaches desperately for something good: the kiss he gave you; waking you from your nightmare; the questions he did ask last night as he cuddled up next you.

“Please…” Seungmin moves toward you, and this time, he treads a little more cautiously. “Don’t cry, please.” His hands land gently on your shoulders, and he pulls you closer. “I don’t like seeing you cry.”

You push your face into his chest, mostly to hide yourself from him, but his arms close around you.

“I’m used to hiding, and pushing back. It’s a hard habit to break.”

“I’m sorry”

“No, don’t apologize to me." He pulls you even closer. “You do deserve more.” Cereus—that sweet honey smell. That's the scent he's getting now. Tomorrow, he thinks, he'll find the flowers he needs for you.

“I was so scared to take that test, and now I’m confused. You seemed upset that it was negative, were you?”

His grip on you loosens, and he makes you look at him. “I don’t have a good answer to give you.” Or he can’t put it into words properly. Something inside of Seungmin stirred when he saw that box, and then again when you told him it was a false alarm. Whatever moves inside of him when he takes a life, it moved a little bit for this, just in the opposite direction. “Did you want it to be negative? When I saw the box, I figured the result was your reason for staying. Like you were trapped here now.”

“I wanted it to be negative because I don’t think I’d make a very good mother. And because I was afraid you’d be angry."

“Angry? No. Do I still scare you?” He pulls his shirt up and wipes at your cheeks, and he cups your face in his hands. “Don’t ever let me push you around, or treat you like you’re less. If I do, leave—go home, and leave me to rot here by myself, like I deserve.”

“Seungmin”

“I can’t turn into that person. I won’t.”

You look at him questioningly, and he notices. He sees you wanting more. After this conversation, Seungmin knows he can’t always walk away from the memories he keeps digging up. He certainly can’t do it right now, not today.

“Who treated you like that? Who pushed you around?”

A memory jumps to the front of his mind; stopping at the top of the porch steps to fix his coat zipper, yelling to his friend to wait up. Seungmin felt a hand press against his shoulder, and it pushed. He remembers the pain in his wrists from almost catching himself, and tasting blood from his busted lip…but not why he did it. Maybe Seungmin was being too loud, or just standing in his way.

“My stepfather. He was, well…he didn’t like me.”

Seungmin squeezes when you grab for him again, and he keeps you close as he tries to stop the sting of tears.

“He hurt you?”

His chest aches from remembering. More memories pop into his head, and he needs to stop them. A pill, maybe. No, if he does that, either he’ll sleep the rest of the day, or he’ll have to watch the strange black dog slink around the apartment again.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it...unless you need to”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“My what?” You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Your favorite color. I had a friend when I was a kid, my only friend…he always asked everyone what their favorite color was. It seemed important.”

“Blue…dark blue. Like the color of your old bedspread.”

“That fits you"

“I would guess yours is purple, unless that’s too obvious.”

“No, you’re right. Is that a good start?”

“It is, I’ll take it. Where is your old friend? Still in Uljin?”

“No, he moved away before things got really bad. I’m not sure where he ended up.”

Since Seungmin is giving, maybe you should, too. “I do know what it’s like.” Even though it's hard. “It stays forever. The mean words…the screaming, and the beating, and all the locks on all the doors. It doesn’t go away.”

“No, it doesn’t”

/ / /

Who hurt you? Seungmin wonders as he watches you hunt for all of the white puzzle pieces. His mind is numb from half of a Xanax he took, so he’s not participating. He really is enjoying watching you, though—he’s catching some of your subtle habits, and hoping he still remembers them tomorrow. You squint your eyes when you think, and absently rub your hands along different parts of your body; your forearms, your neck, when you’re still for too long. Seungmin has seen you do it before, during the long car ride, but not this much. And his favorite; your finger slowly tracing the outline of your lips, pulling and picking at them. If you keep it up, you’ll make them bleed, and he might come down there in his daze and start kissing them clean.

”Hmm?”

Your eyes flit up to him. Why, what now?

“You’re sighing so loudly up there. Get down here on the floor with me.”

“I’ll get in your way.” Of course, You’re always wanting, Seungmin thinks. Always itching for closeness.

“I want you in my way”

Itching for touch. Who put that tenderness back after it was beat out of you? He watches your hand as it leaves your mouth and pushes a stray puzzle piece back in its place. Where does your patience come from?

“…get down here and help me find the green pieces”

He laughs at that, and it must be loud enough for you to hear. Your head turns his way, and you scowl at him, but you can’t keep up an act…it turns into a smile as you look away.

Those things make a good mother, right? Seungmin remembers that, sometimes. The patience, and the tenderness. Soft words. Soft hands. Why wouldn’t you?

“Why wouldn’t I what?”

Oh he said that part out loud. “Nothing. I’m coming.” He slides from the couch and onto his knees, drops to all fours, and starts toward you.

“Cute…oh, you’re not gonna help at all”

Seungmin climbs into your lap and goes straight for your neck. He kisses once, stops, and inhales deeply.

“Are you smelling me?”

His mhm comes deep from his chest, full of your sweet scent. He kisses again, coaxing you to your back as your shirt is lifted from you. “Oh, this is nice.”

The air is cold against your bare skin, but you relax when his warm hands graze over your nipples, hard and pushing against the mesh of your bra.

“Is this new?” He puts his mouth around one and bites until you make a sound for him. “A matching set?” He pulls the waistband of your leggings down, “it is,” and brings them down the rest of the way. “Cute.”

“Cute?”

You can hear his soft laugh as he disappears between your thighs. He touches, squeezes, bites when his mouth gets to work. “Are you cold? We can get into bed.”

“Yeah, take me to bed”

/ / /

It’s warm under the sheets, but your teeth chatter anyway. In anticipation of him, maybe. Should you ask him to use a condom? Will he, if you ask? He would. Do you want him to? You can’t imagine yourself as a mother; or pregnant, for that matter. What a strange home to bring a child into.

He heads for his drawer, and reaches for the knob, but stops himself. Seungmin turns and heads for his dresser, where he slides one of the top drawers open. As far as you know, from your innocent snooping a few weeks ago, there’s nothing in there except his jewelry, watches, extra glasses. He put something new in there. He comes back with a condom between his fingers, and a questioning look in his eyes.

You give him the same look right back.

He points to the bedside table, “not ours.” And then to the drawer he just came from, “ours.”

“That’s sweet”

“Is it? I just thought it made sense.”

“Yeah, it’s sweet to me”

The room warms. You swear you can feel the cold get pushed away as he crawls to you…onto you…pulls the covers back up as you disappear beneath him. Seungmin touches and kisses everywhere he can get to—down your body, where he tugs at the matching panties he seemed to like so much, and back up to focus elsewhere. He opens the clasp of your bra and lets you fall out, and his smile as he watches is sickly sweet. You feel a blush move up your neck and face, and your reflexes force your arms around you. There’s no reason to be shy, but he’s making you feel seen again. Too seen. Seungmin looks at you, and into you in a way nobody else has before.

He gently grabs your wrists and pushes them onto the bed, “you’re mine…no hiding.”

“I’m yours”

“All mine…you won’t leave me”

It’s just a mumble against your skin, but you hear every word. He told you to leave if he did something to deserve it, but despite the dream, you're starting to believe he's incapable of scaring you away. He might think he is, but he doesn’t see all of himself. Seungmin isn't the nightmare that looks back at him in the mirror.

You still remember every word he said in the greenhouse; okay, I guess...sometimes it’s tough to tell from the inside. You didn’t hear the question, but you assume it was “how are you?”

He talked about you; I know, I’m not alone this time, isn’t that strange? It feels so strange.

I’m trying really hard, I promise

Trying to what, exactly? To get better? To keep you around? If only you had heard what he heard, and knew both sides of the conversation. But you know who it was now, and it took too long to figure out. Seungmin was catching up with his mother, telling her he is okay, and that he is no longer alone, and that he's trying so hard to...well, you're not sure exactly what—keep everything from falling apart, maybe. The dream that had him in tears, and unable to get back to sleep, was her.

“No, I won't leave you alone”

His teeth sink into your neck as he works his way in. It’s easy, and so smooth, and so satisfying—Seungmin knows his way around your body now. He pushes his cock inside of you, pulls out slowly, slides back in. Warming you up, making you comfortable, and maybe testing out how this feels. Seungmin feels good, he always does…and this, you could do this with him all night, but it’s not quite right. You’re used to nothing between you and him, so what you’re thinking is irresponsible and stupid.

The slow, steady strokes are him; the painful stretch, and the careful movements are all him. But it’s not the same. Your hands slide up his back and you pull him closer, and he bites again, softly—he’s become gentle with you in every way when you fuck…he doesn’t leave you with the same marks he begs for.

“Min,” you whisper, and run your hands across the scratches you left. Healed, but still rough against the rest of his soft skin. He moans quietly, and you hate to say his name again and stop him, but, “hey.”

“What’s wrong?” He slows his thrusts and looks at you, “it hurts?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt”

He kisses sweetly, and you can feel him crack a smile before he pulls away.

“What are you smiling about?”

This time he laughs as he goes for another kiss. “What is it, why’d you stop me?” and another.

“I…uhm—nothing, I'm fine”

“Nothing?” He stops completely and stares. Trying to read your mind, probably. Seungmin moves again, slowly.

“Please…baby.” Why did you say that? Your face heats up, and you know he sees it. That’s the second time you've done that today.

“Jagi?” The grin won’t drop from his face, so you wonder what has him feeling so relaxed, and so at ease. It can’t just be the pill he took. “Sweetheart?”

“Don’t tease me"

"No...I'm not, I like it. You can call me sweet little nicknames."

"Take the condom off”

Seungmin’s eyes grow, “oh, is that the problem?” He kisses more, and you can feel him reach between you and remove it. “Anything for you.”

"Anything?"

"Mhm...tell me what else you want"

"Don't be so gentle this time"

He grips your wrists again, puts all of his weight down, and fucks you slowly, gently. "Are you sure? You want it a little rough?"

"Yes, Min...please"

"Call me Minnie"

"Minnie," You can't help but smirk at that. It's almost too cute for him, "can we switch positions?'

Seungmin mhm's and slides his hands from your wrists, and groans as his cock is released from your tight squeeze again. "How would you like to—" he laughs under his breath as you turn your body, get on your knees, and lay your head on the pillow, "...be fucked?"

His eyes eat you up, and his hands follow. Seungmin wonders why you haven’t switched things up before now, but he knows why he never does—he likes looking at you, and kissing you and he likes watching you on top of him (and pulling you down). Seungmin never realized how much he liked to kiss until he kissed your breathless lips, and again when he had a knife to his throat. That isn’t the type of treatment his victims get unless it seems absolutely necessary. Seungmin only wants to kiss you.

Considering how shy you were before, he’s surprised at what he’s getting now. Ass up, thighs spread. He resists the urge to use his mouth, only because his cock is aching for you again. He moves his head between your lips, gathering up your warm arousal, mixing it with his pre-cum. The thought of filling you up again makes him ache even more, and he pushes in without warning.

But you said you wanted it rough. You gasp and flinch, and your shaky breath actually makes him pause for a moment. No, you said you want it rough, and he’s giving it to you.

“Stop me if you need to.” Seungmin runs a hand up your back and squeezes your shoulder as he starts to move. In and out, deep and slow at first. “Okay?” He thinks he sees you nod, so he lets go, and the sound as your body meets his is so sweet; the grip on his cock, how much deeper he hits. And he knows he’s hurting you, despite your persistence. Face down in the pillow, fist clenching the sheets—your free hand reaches for his, and Seungmin thinks you want to hold it, but instead you wrap his fingers around your neck.

“Are you sure?” He can barely get it out before you push back into him. “Oh fuck…okay.” Seungmin squeezes, gently, and it seems to satisfy you for now, but he doesn’t want to tighten his grip. He can’t do that, because he hasn’t done this to anyone unless he was ending it. The control might not be there. Maybe it will be, for you, but he doesn’t know for sure, and he’s not willing to risk it.

“More”

“No.” It slips out. He was only thinking it, but he says it again. “No, I can’t.”

“Minnie…”

“I might hurt you.” He leans forward and places a kiss on your back, and keeps moving up, “I can’t,” wraps his arms around you and holds you tight against his chest. “I love you, I can’t.” And he hopes you’ll turn your head and look at him…

You do. “What did you say?”

Seungmin kisses you sweetly and fucks you as gently as possible, because he wants this to last a little longer, but he’s so close. The kissing—the confession…he told you he feels too much sometimes, and he knows you remember.

A little bit of regret swirls in his head, only because you don’t say it right back, but he pushes it away when you twist yourself to kiss him even deeper. Seungmin comes, and his satisfied moan fills your ears and mouth and chest. You feel him shaking as he slows himself and pulls out, and then he’s up, and you need him back, but it’s only for a moment as he helps you roll back to face him.

Now what? He’s staring at you, silent, eyes full of all of those feelings he holds onto so tightly. You could answer him—you could say it right back to cut through this quiet, but you want him to say it again. Instead, he touches. His warm hand closes over your cunt, and his fingers slide up and over your still-sensitive clit. He gives you exactly what you need, and when his mouth start exploring you again, your orgasm already starts to rise.

“Kiss me”

He jumps up to your chest, and your neck, and finally lands on your lips as you come for him.

/ / /

Not getting a positive result on either test was a strange surprise, you have to admit. Every time you’ve had sex, save the first time, it’s ended the same way; you laying here, staring at him, filled with him. Right now, you’re comfortable and curled up in his arms, and you can feel the slow trickle of cum on your thigh. You like it.

“I’ll start birth control, so we won’t have to worry”

You’re not sure he’s still awake until he moves his hand up your back, and laughs under his breath. “I’m not worried. But you don’t want a baby, so we will be careful.”

You don’t want one, not we. Every time he talks on the subject, you move closer to the conclusion that a very big part of him wants a child. You have to find out for sure, and you need to know why, if that is the case. This is a strange home to bring a baby into, you think again. Two damaged parents can’t make a happy, well-adjusted child, can they? No. It doesn't even matter how you feel, or how he feels, because neither of you are there yet. You might never be.

"Minnie?" Not smiling when you say it seems impossible, Minnie. It's cute, and it doesn't seem to match him, or it didn't when you first met...it does now. You see a Minnie in there; sweet, loving, overflowing with heartache and nowhere to put it.

“Hmm?” Of course he expects you to bring it up, his three stupid little words he couldn’t keep to himself; his sudden outpouring of emotions, because he finally boiled over in the moment. Seungmin wonders if that’s how it usually feels—like you’re going to explode from the pain. That’s how it feels when he’s kneeling in the dirt with his flowers, and that’s how he feels when he remembers too much all at once. But this was a different type of pain.

“Minnie,” you say it again, whisper it, feel it leave your mouth and reach his ears. His eyes grow, and you can see them reflect every little light in the room. Why didn’t you tell him first, and what if Seungmin is wondering that, too? You feel it, and you have felt it far too long in your short time knowing him. He knows that. He knows you’re the one bursting with love for him, he has to know that. “I should have told you.”

There’s so much he doesn’t know, and now you’re going to tell him something that will change whatever this is. “Told me what?”

You hope it changes things for the better. “How I feel." It could always complicate things, or scare him, even though he opened his mouth first.

"Told me how you feel?"

"How I feel when I look at you. How much I love you."

[foulphantomllama]

My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader

AESPA Winter x Male Reader (POV)

2. The Study Date

We talked about her grades, and agreed on a day to meet up and study. We decided on a Friday afternoon, in my little room. I was barely fitting in. But at least she is small. However, I had a feeling that something was off. My bully suddenly becomes a friendly face? No. I was sure that she has a plan to make me look ridiculous or guilty. I was going to find out tho. This was the sole reason I accepted to act in her little play.

On the other hand, It was killing me to think about what ifs. What if all of the bully thing was a cover up because she really liked me? Or this was the way she flirts? What if she expresses her feelings this way? It was hard to stop think about all of those. But after that day, she stopped abusing me verbally. She only smiled and wawed at me until the day of our meeting arrived. Thursday night, something unexpected happened. My routine, I brushed my teeth, get into my pyjamas and lat down to my bed then started scrolled through my Instagram. As I scroll down, Instagram has suggested me a familiar face. It was Minjeong’s account. Although she was hanging out with the richest girls in the school, her account was pretty modest with 17 followers. My finger wanted to push the follow button, my brain resisted. But in the end my heart was the one who stopped the argument by chooising my fingers side. I pushed the follow button. Her account was private. And I really wanted to look at her photos. Five or six minutes later, she followed me back. My hear was racing as I went to her account and started looking at her photos. I realized that I never looked at her as a girl. She was always my bully. Since I came here she always showed me her bully side. But you can feel that getting accepted into her account was a rare privilage.

Before looking at her photos, I wanted to check if she follows and boys. But she wasn’t. 17 girls, and there was me. The only boy she follows. What I was thinking? What I was expecting from her? Be my girlfriend? As I started to look at her photos, I realized that I probably in love with her. But I also despise her. Hate her. But I want her. I desperately need her attention. Her abuse. Out of the blue, I got a boner when I look at her photo. The urge for jerking off to minjeong was all over my head. But once I did that, there was no turning back. I was ashamed, angry and happy. I don’t know how to describe this feeling. Only thing I want was to kiss her. But I hold myself back. I needed to understand her true intention.

With all of that in my mind, I fell asleep. Then, I woke up to the doorbell. I looked at my phone to see the time. It was nine in the morning. It wasn’t be Minjeong. We agreed upon afternoon. But again, I was expecting nobody. So I thought it was just wrong, or my landlord. I ignored it. But then she messaged me on instagram. The message was saying “Are you sleeping? I’m at your door.” I rushed ot from the bed, and opened the door. There she was stading in from of me with her messy figure. No make up, her hair was all over the place. But she was wearing a skirt with no socks or something. Her pale white legs was very intimitading. Her legs were exposed but she was wearing a thick sweatshirt. “Aren’t you cold?” I asked. She laughed and answered. “My lower body never gets cold. Only the top. So I only keep my upper body warm. Because it makes my whole body warm.” I picked up her bag and invited her to my bed. Because it was to only place to sit. “I don’t have anything to eat, we have to order it if you’re hungry.” I said. “No, don’t worry I’m not hungry. But i will be.” She answered. Of course, I nodded. “Which books did you bring with you?” I asked. “I don’t have any books. I have my notebooks.” She answered. She gave me one of her notebooks. I took a brief look at her notebook. It was mostly empty. Some of the pages there were drawings and a couple of words related to the subject. It was totally weird because she was not verbally abusing me or anything. She was just looking at me in a way that could melt my heart . There was an awkward silence for a moment. I decided to break the silence by asking “So, what are we studying?” I sat on my bed while asking her the question. She came closer. And said “Nothing really. I lied to you about all the my father is going to remove me from the school thing.” “ I knew it!” i said loudly. “You knew what?” She answered curiously. “I knew that you’re hiding something from me.” I answered. She took the notebook off from my hands and threw it somewhere in the room. “And what is it that I’m hiding?” she asked me. She was so close and I was feeling so nervous. “I don’t know. You suddenly stop bullying me, and then this happened.” I answered. I was avoiding eye contact. And I knew that she was directly looking at me. I decided to look at her. I turn my head towards her. Then we made eye contact. And I have to admit it. She was looking like a dream. That eye contact made us get closer to each other. Our lips were about to touch. Then it happened. We were kissing. She put her hand on my belly while I hold her neck with my hand. Her hand were navigating through my body. I did the same. I put my other hand to her thighs. Then, with a sudden move, she grabbed my cock. I had a boner. Of course she realized that because I was still in my pyjamas. But we were still kissing. My tongue was inside her mouth, our tongues were dancing with each other. Suddenly she stopped kissing me and put her hand inside my pyjama. She started to jerk me off.  I couldn’t believe it. She was my bully and then, she was jerking me off in my dorm room. What a way to start a toxic relationship.

As she got faster, I couldn’t help but lean back. I was feeling amazing. Her little hands has such a good grip that I had a feeling that she will rip it off at some point. “Tell me when you’re about to cum.” She smiled as she talked. A moment later, I gave her the signal that I’m about to cum. She stopped. And seconds later she started again with a slower pace. I was about to cum, but I couldn’t. Because she was not letting me cum. “What are we even doing?” I asked her. She told me to shut my mouth and wait for her. I did not had any choice. “Are you about to cum?” she asked again. “Yes” I answered. She got faster. And I came. Her hands was covered with my cum. But she got faster and faster. It was painfull but I never had a better orgasm before. She licked some my cum off from her hands and got up to wash her hands. I was not expecting this to happen. “Are we going to talk about this?” I asked her. Because I was so curious about her intention. “It was so obvious that you don’t have a girl to satisfy you.” She sit beside me after saying it. “That obvious” I asked. She nodded with a little smile. “You’re pathetic.” She added. “I only gave you a little of me. Wait until you see a bigger part.” “You don’t have to pity me, Minjeong.” She pushed me back to the bed and sit on top of me. “You really think I pity you? Should I pity you” I said no. I was getting my strength back. So i hold her and get on top of her. “Tell me one reason not to fuck you right here.” I asked. She giggled and answered. “I can’t. But will you? Do you have the balls to fuck me?”  I was so furious. A part of me wanted to fuck her. But my logic got the best of me. I got up from the bed. “I knew you don’t have it.” She said. “Are you tired because I jerked your buddy to hard?” She was tempting me to fuck her. I realized that. “You hungry” I asked to change the subject. “Yes” she answered. “What do you want to eat?” She looked at me with her pretty eyes and answered my question. “Your heart.”

[ghostpetalss]

¡Sub! Ticci Toby x ¡Dom! Male Reader

I'm so sorry for what you're about to read HAHAHA I wrote it yesterday in a moment of insomnia and annoyance for not finding passive Creepypastas... today I read what I wrote and it was like 0-0 But I thought it was fun anyway.

¡WARNING! : Bad words, slight degradation, homosexuality, possible abuse,boy x boy,explicit content.

¡English is not my first language! So it's possible that the writing sucks.

Thinking about how to reduce a serial killer…

To say that Toby was putty in your hands was a lie, as he was currently struggling with the grip that one of your hands had on his wrists behind his lower back, which applied downward force to keep his back arched while you attacked him from behind with your throbbing cock.

His head was buried in the pillow of the bed they were on, his sweatshirt and shirt were pulled up to his chest and his pants were down to his knees. Your remaining hand was under Toby's abdomen, tortuously caressing his already reddish penis to receive the grunts of pleasure that contradicted the insults he directed towards you.

- "¡YOU little bitchAh!-" - As soon as you heard how the sentence began, you slightly squeezed the boy's glans to take it to the maximum - "You're not in a position to talk that way, boy." - You responded without ceasing your hip movements that were going in a rhythmic swing.

- "¡Just s-stop!" - The brunette hair gasped, closing his hands into fists, digging his nails into the palms of his hands without noticing it. - "Not until you know your place here." - You grunted, releasing the head from between your fingers to wrap his length in your hand again to continue pumping him but now at a pace according to the speed of your thrusts.

Finding yourself near the edge, you let go of his hands so he could have free will, expecting him to push you away, you only saw how his hands clung to the sheets to squeeze them while he grunted and gasped against the pillow, letting you fuck his insides.

- "¡Please! ¡Please! ¡I-im cominggg!!!" - He moaned while drops of saliva leaked between his lips while he was still trying to muffle his moans into the pillow which was already ruined.

On your side, your hips followed an erratic rhythm before a grunt drowned in your throat as you painted his insides white and Toby reached his climax, releasing strings of semen on the sheets while he breathed heavily, feeling the emptiness of his interior was wet from when you came out of him and lay down on his side in the leftover space of the bed to take a tissue and proceed to clean yourself and then do the same with Toby taking advantage of his moment of trance.

The auburn, without caring much, let himself fall on the mattress, being embraced by your presence. At another time he would have annihilated you, but maybe he would let it happen this time, because he was your good boy and he would let you teach him manners <3.

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 2

Masterlist taglist

Y/n meets Stray Kids

Warnings: swears, scent smelling, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of kidnapping, ABO DYNAMICS, verbal fighting

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Apparently, this trip had been all about desperate secrecy. I had worn a hoodie and a beanie to hide my hair. Even wore sunglasses, though it was getting into late evening now and the sun was setting. All because I was expecting a feral crowd of airport fans.

But there was nothing. Not a single camera, not a single fan. No one seemed to know that they were here. I was relieved and grateful.

I was able to sleep for most of the flight, avoiding a lot of awkward chit chat with BangChan, who was sitting in the seat next to mine.

The emotional upheaval and nerves for what was to come had the odd combination of making me feel exhausted but also anxious. And BangChans lovely, goosebump creating scent right next to me for over 12 hours didn’t help. At all.

It was evening in Korea when we touched down. As soon as we were clear to, BangChan was on his phone texting.

“Do they know I’m coming?” I asked as I packed up the few things I took out to entertain myself during the flight.

BangChan glanced over at me, eyes a bit glazed over. He was probably tired; he had been on two flights in one day.

“I’m telling them now. We need to get moving.”

I straighten, concerned. “Why, what happened?” Was it one of the other members?

“Your scent.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “My scent? No, my suppressant should still be in effect. I took my pill yesterday -today? -the day you came. Do I smell?” I sniffed at my pit area in question.

BangChan shook his head. “No, you have a distinct Alpha scent now. We need to get you to the apartment quickly.”

"Crap! Why did my scent come so freaking fast? What the hell!” I looked around me. I was stuck in an enclosed metal flying tube, and I smelled like Alpha. This was not good.

BangChan reached over and took my hand. “Don’t worry. There aren’t many people near us. It’s going to be fine.” He squeezed my fingers gently before going back to his phone. My hand still felt hot where he had gripped it.

As the plane docked, he pulled his sweatshirt over his head. “Here. Put this on.” He held it out to me.

It was a bit inappropriate to smell so much like an Omega you weren’t bonded too. I’m kind of shocked BangChan would even offer something like his scent-soaked sweatshirt.

“Don’t overthink it. My scent will cover yours until we get to the car, and we won’t have to worry.”

I slipped my sweatshirt off and put his on, adding mine to my carry on. His scent now engulfed me, making me feel a bit high with it.

Once off the plane, our small group rushed through the airport to the waiting car in what I felt was record time.

"I’m going to have them drop me off first. I need to start making security arrangements for the week to make sure your secret stays a secret.” JYP announced as we drove.

“You aren’t going to have us chaperoned or anything?” I asked. I expected to have a constant shadow. Not because of any virginity crap. Keeping Omegas pure was old fashioned and looked down on nowadays.

No, I expected a constant chaperone because of their idol image. JYP and Stray Kids were putting a fuck ton of trust in me. Just imagine the secrets I could spill to the world after a week of living with them. I would never, but they didn’t know that. And they didn’t even have me sign an NDC.

When we stopped in front of JYPE to let JYP out I leaned closer to the window to marvel at the building. It was a lot more magnificent than pictures, or my imagination could show. And I knew exactly how much a picture could or couldn’t show. It was a beautiful building, very impressive.

“Thank you for coming L/n.” JYP said as he exited the car. Then it was just me and BangChan.

"So, I know you’re thinking this isn’t going to work.” He started.

Crap. “I’m sorry, BangChan. It’s not like I want you to disband or anything. I just don’t think I’d be a good fit.” I didn’t want him to think I was a horrible person or anything.

“But why not?”

I bit my lip. How to explain this without seeming like I am fishing for compliments. “I’m not like any of you. I know who I am. I worked hard to become who I am, and I am perfectly happy with myself. I’m good at cameras. At being the supporting staff. I don’t sing, or dance, or make music. I enjoy the music. That’s me. That’s not any of you.”

BangChan sighed and grimaced. “Being our Alpha doesn’t automatically mean you have to become any of those things.”

"It would be expected though. By the fans. By management.” Maybe not at first, but slowly it would happen. Forcing me into their shape, their mold.

There are a few minutes of silence. BangChan couldn’t deny my words. Not truthfully. And he wouldn’t be able to protect me from it forever. They would wear down his resolve as well as mine. Then I would lose myself.

“Everyone is very excited to meet you.” BangChan decided to change the subject a bit.

“Me too. Though probably not for the same reasons.”

He chuckled. “Definitely not for the same reasons.” He conceded. “Fair warning. If you smell half as good to Felix as you do to me, he is going to be all over you. Han too. They are clingy.”

I looked him over, my heart sinking. “What do I smell like to you?” I knew what he smelled like to me. Knew exactly why his scent affected me like it did. I’m just really hoping it’s only one way. Or I was.

“You smell like home.” He stated simply not beating around the bush.

Four words. That’s all it took to shatter my fragile hope of getting out of this and going back to normal. My normal, safe, invisible life. At least not without breaking several hearts, my own included.

What did I get myself into.

“Fuck me.” I whispered under my breath. I am so royally screwed.

I folded in half and put my face on my knees, letting my hair, free of the beanie after the flight, fall and hide my face.

“I’m sorry, L/n.”

I laughed sarcastically. “Just call me y/n. Pretty sure if you call me l/n around here at least 15 people will answer at any given time.”

He agreed with a laugh. “Then you can call me Chan, or Chris. Whichever you prefer.”

I sat back up with a deep breath. “I’ll probably use both to be honest.”

It was a short drive before the car pulled to a stop in front of another impressive building. And my nerves kicked in, anxiety building in my chest.

Chan stopped me as I reached for the door handle. “Hold on. Linos coming.”

“Why is he coming?” I asked sitting back in my seat.

He cleared his throat. “Your uh, your scent overpowered mine. You need a new scent-soaked shirt to hide yours as we go in.”

I wonder if the intensity of my scent is because I was on suppressants for so long or if it was because his Omega called to my Alpha, and this was the response. To try and woo the Omega on some primal lizard hindbrain level.

It wasn’t long before Lee Know was jogging to the car, slipping into the seat next to me and quickly shutting the door.

I watched, trying not to fangirl on him like I did Chan, as he unconsciously took a deep breath to calm down once settled. Then he paused, turned, and took me in.

Feeling awkward I gave him a small smile and wave. “Hi. I’m y/n. Alpha.”

He took another deep sniff, eyes going unfocused for a moment. Then he thrust a light brown long sleeve thing hooded shirt in my direction. “I was wearing this all day.”

I accepted the shirt as his face grew pink. “Thank you.” I quickly switched out shirts, hiding the one soaked in my scent within my bag.

Lee Knows cool refreshing scent surrounded me, sending a shiver up my spine and making my skin feel tight.

That was 2 of 8 that my Alpha really liked. I mean REALLY liked it. Yet another notch on the headstone of what my life used to be. Who I used to be.

Chan grabbed my bag from me. “Let’s get you inside quickly. I’ll feel much better then.” Lee Know nodded in agreement.

Lee Know unlocked the apartment door, letting us in. My heart raced with nerves. This-under different circumstances-would be a dream come true. To be meeting Stray Kids. One on 8 in their own home! I had never even imagined something like this ever happening to me.

But I was only here because I am an Alpha. They needed an Alpha. They didn’t really care about the rest of me. Hell, keeping my subgender a secret would be more of a burden than anything else. Just an annoyance to them.

The rest of the group were gathered withing sight of the door. I gave them a awkward smile as I removed my shoes.

“I should have warned you.” Chan began after he noticed everyone. “Everyone knows you are our last real hope. They are anxious to see if there is even a chance of bonding.”

"No pressure then.” I mumbled sarcastically.

“Everyone. This is l/n f/n. Try not to be creepy and scare her away.”

“F/n, please. Its um-it’s nice to meet you.”

Felix was closest to us-still standing in the doorway. “I can only smell Lino.” He complained. His nose wrinkled cutely.

I tried not to be offended that no one ever seemed inclined to introduce themselves or even say hi to me. I knew what I was here for.

Pulling the shirt off over my head I gestured for Felix to come closer. “Alright, come on. Sniff away.” I offered my neck and opened my arms.

Felix didn’t hesitate to step closer but avoided touching me. Instead taking deep breaths through his nose as I stood there.

Then in the blink of an eye, I had a face full of blonde hair. Felix adhered himself to me, shoving his face into the concentrated scent at my neck

“You smell so good.” He moaned. His voice vibrated against my skin.

“Son of a bitch!” I swore loudly, letting my arms fall to my sides.

My negative outburst made every Omega in the room flinch. Felix whined against me and started to pull away.

With another sigh I stopped his retreat by placing a gentle hand on the back of his head, near the base of his skull. Not quite alpha claiming, but soothing.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m not upset with any of you. Just the situation. I didn’t want this.” I tried to explain as Felix relaxed against me again.

Felixs scent was, again, very pleasing. Very cozy. And slightly electrifying. And judging from the scents permeating the very walls around me, the other scents will be equally alluring. Walking into this apartment felt like coming home. My entire being knew it belonged here. With these Omegas. But my mind rejected it all.

“What does that mean?” Changbin asked.

“Let’s all sit down and discuss this.” Chan spoke up from behind me.

He let the way to what I assumed was their living room. I waddled awkwardly around Felix for a few steps before stopping again.

"This isn’t working. You are going to have to let go.” I informed him.

He shook his head, arms tightening around my ribs. “You’re going to leave.” He mumbled.

"Not right now! I promised JYP and Chan a week.”

"Just a week?”

"Let’s sit down and talk.”

Slowly, he released me and turned to join the others, not once looking up. I felt bad for upsetting him. My instincts were telling me to fix it. Instincts I had never had to deal with before meeting Chan.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut!

(not proofread! Also…….I wrote this at like 3 am, so keep that in mind)

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Your arm was starting to get sore, but it didn't matter. You continued to jam your three fingers into her moist cunt. Ellie gripped the sides on the bench you had haphazardly placed her on. Conveniently placed in a corner of a rarely used hall in your school. Especially this early in the morning. You gave Ellie’s neck a few quick pecks before sucking on her weak spot. You wouldn’t have been so pissed at your English teacher for telling you to hand in your book at 7 am, aka an hour before your first class, if you knew it would lead to this. Ellie Williams, the most attractive loser in school, being spread out just for you.

"Shush, shush. You need to stay quiet, Ellie" you whispered. She nodded her head as she continued to keep down her whines. The laces of her dirty converse swing as you continue to slam into her pretty pussy, nudging the bundled up fabric around her knees. Her twisted face was a sigh you tried to keep in your memory, for some lonely night when your parents weren't home.

As you continue to slide your fingers into her needy hole you used her other hand to pull back her t-shirt that’s fallen over due to her constant moving, showing off her pretty little tits. “Prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen” you mumble as you watched them slightly bounce as you spread up your pace. You used your hips to thrust your fingers deeper into her poor pussy, not caring that her access juice smeared onto the front of your jeans, creating strings whenever you pulled back your hips to soon after slam them back into her.

The table slightly banged into the wall behind Ellie with every thrust. You’d start to worry about someone hearing if it wasn’t for your pussydrunk state. The warm feeling of Ellie’s wall’s squeezing you in made you obsessed, desperate to observe every single thing. Ellie clawed at the old wood rim around the table as she bit those pretty lips of hers. You knew it was to prevent herself from being so loud, but you kinda wanted to tell her to just go wild and allow her to let out all those pretty little sounds. But you knew you two would get in big trouble if anyone saw you, so you had to push your horny thoughts aside and be happy with the muffled whines you got.

As you started to rub your thumb on her clit she couldn't help but let out a groan. You winced at the contrast of the dead silent hall before putting your head near her ear. "I told you to be quiet!" you whisper-yelled, trying to conceal the true effect her sounds had on you. "I know. I-I´m trying" she pathetically whined out. You couldn't help but giggle at her cute attempt to keep it together. She couldn't fool a soul.

You jammed in your fingers all the way into her before curving and continuously message her g-spot. Using your hips to press down onto the back of your hand, making sure to reach the deepest point. Quickly pressing your lips against hers to quiet her down. A smirk sneaked into the kiss as the expected moan leaves Ellie's throat, luckily muffled. You could feel Ellie grinning herself against your hand, desperate to feel more of you.

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her as her walls tightens around your fingers. You stumble over to her, putting your non-busy hand behind her, to not crash onto her. She break away from the kiss and buries her face into the crock of your neck. Bitting into the collar of your sweatshirt to cover her moans. Still the mumbled sound would be enough to make you cum. You continue to abuse her pussy, secretly “hopping” she’d accidentally let out a sound she shouldn’t. But being the good girl she is Ellie didn’t let out another unmuffled sound, scared it’d make you stop. And oh, she really didn’t want you to stop. Her heavy breathing warms up your neck as you continue to milk her of her orgasm. The cum starting to run down your wrist.

Ellie´s juice leaked down, past her asscrack to create a pool on the bench.

You helped Ellie off the bench and pulled up her panties and jeans, making sure she looked put together before leaving. You whipped off your fingers on your jeans as you made your way to your classroom. Letting Ellie´s cum soak into the fabric. This will be a good day.

_____________________________________________________________

Author´s Note: I've had this idea in my mind for a while, but never planned to write it down. But then I was like "fuck it!" and decided to write something shorter with less background. This was just a quickly little blur, trying out something new. Hope you liked it, even though it sucks donkey dick!

[jensettermandu]

-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-

-𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮-

1.1

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𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.

chapter wc: 12k+

Y/n opened the door to her apartment as the knocking wasn't stopping and groaned at the person on the other side.

"Seriously?" She annoyedly questioned Jennie and blocked the way when she tried to step inside. The girl pursed her lips, she stood in front of Y/n dressed in grey sweats and a grey sweatshirt, both soaked in water as the rain was pouring outside the whole day. In her hold were still her car keys and phone as her chest somewhat heaved–she probably ran up the stairs like she always did. 

It was hard to believe that this was Jennie Kim.

"You said it yourself that you're home alone." She reasoned, sniffling as some of her wet hair stuck to her forehead. The younger girl heaved a sigh at that.

"Yeah, but I didn't say come over, Jen, there's a huge difference– I'm busy studying." She frowned at the vixen's words and stuffed her things into the pockets of her sweats. Her eyes trailed her body, the girl's dark chocolate brown hair up in a messy bun, hair strands loosely falling over her face, it was hard to not look at the piercings protruding through the baby tee as she didn't have a bra on and a pair of simple grey sweats.

"Okay...So, I'm just supposed to drive back now?" Jennie questioned as she had driven for a good 30 minutes from her place just to get to the girl who said that she was alone and studying when she texted her. Jennie had been bored the whole day and Y/n was busy studying. She never wasted an opportunity when the girl in front of her could squeeze her into her schedule which was filled with mostly studying and a part-time job.

"Yeah." The taller girl confirmed and pushed the door to close it and Jennie was used to the mean demeanour of the girl. She stopped the door and forced it open–she was much stronger and the force made Y/n take a step back while Jennie invited herself in. "That's an hour wasted driving here and then back for nothing." Jennie decided herself for the both of them, ignoring what Y/n wanted because they always did what the younger girl wanted.

"Jennie, that's seriously not my problem. Now get your ass out of my apartment." The older girl only locked the door and kicked her shoes off as she stepped into the single-bedroom apartment. "No, you can study, but I am staying 'cause I've been bored the whole day and you haven't been alone for ages." Y/n watched as the girl walked past her, making herself comfortable in the younger girl's apartment the way she always did. 

She sighed and walked away from the door where she had stood and Jennie looked over her shoulder at Y/n's light footsteps, watching the girl who walked into the bedroom.

She crouched down and picked up the Russian blue cat named Vinci who scurried over to her from the couch. His purring was loud as he always snuggled with Y/n and finally, he started to like Jennie too even if Y/n had insisted he never would since he has only ever liked her. His wet and cold nose brushed against her warm neck as his claws dug into her sweatshirt and she walked towards the bedroom through the small apartment that was dimly lit. The second she stepped through the door she would be greeted by the living room and open kitchen. It was small, but it wasn't weird considering Y/n was still studying full-time.

She walked in through the open door and the bedroom consisted of a king-size bed with a grey backboard, the covers white and not made but rather left the way they were when the girl woke up in the morning. Beside the bed against the wall stood the white vanity table that was used as a desk too where Y/n sat. On the other side of the bed was the door to what was a small closet although beside it stood a clothing rack with the girl's clothes hung up as the closet wasn't enough. The fairy lights stretched above the headboard and Jennie was quite sure that they no longer worked, but Y/n would never do anything about it. Aside from that, there was a shelf by the door filled with vinyl records and a vinyl player and that was it, together with the window close to the vanity table where rain was harshly hitting the glass.

"What're you studying?" Jennie questioned, wanting to make some sort of conversation with the girl who usually cut the talking short because that wasn't what they had been meeting for the past four months. Y/n glanced away from her laptop and in the mirror, her eyes catching the brunette who held Vinci against her hip like a kid–the cat cuddling into her.

"The same thing I always have to study, economics, I haven't changed courses."

"I could help." Jennie offered as she specialised in anything connected with the subject. Y/n knew that, but she would never ask the girl for that kind of help.

"I need you to realise that I truly will never want you as a study buddy or anything like that. I already told you that I don't even want you here tonight." They held eye contact for a second more before Y/n looked back at her laptop.

"The mean girl facade won't chase me away, it doesn't bother me, Y/n." Jennie let her know as she knew that the girl was a cold-hearted bitch for a reason, but it truly didn't bother Jennie. For the most part at least. She only hummed at that, not sparing Jennie any more of her attention.

She let the cat down and watched him run out of the room, hearing in the distance as he climbed in his cat tree and Jennie closed the door before stepping further into the bedroom that smelled sweet and of white florals. "How long are you staying alone for?" She asked and walked over to the girl, getting behind the chair Y/n was in. She stood behind the girl, her hand coming over to the exposed skin as she traced her fingers over it. "Till Monday." She simply answered, trying to ignore the slightly cold hand that ran over to the front, fingers sneaking under her shirt and tracing along her collarbones. It was Thursday which left the girl with a weekend to do whatever she wanted to do.

"I'd never let you stay the weekend alone or alone in general." Y/n never read too much into Jennie's words, it was just some type of turn-on for the woman. "I'd never take my eyes off of you, let you text someone who isn't your friend or let you go out with someone I don't know too." Y/n knew that Jennie was in reality just a toxic piece of shit that tried to come off as this perfect type of partner by using words that were supposed to be protective, but with a deeper meaning never would be. It wasn't like it mattered to her since she wasn't with the girl.

"I like my weekends spent alone or with friends." The girl mumbled, swallowing as Jennie ran her hand back up over her neck.

"I know that you enjoy going out, but it wouldn't happen without me there to make sure you're safe and fine." The vixen rolled her eyes and the fingers came up to her jaw. Jennie gripped it and made Y/n look up, holding onto the backrest of the chair with her other hand, making Y/n look her in the eye.

"Asher does a terrible job at keeping you his."

"Maybe 'cause he doesn't own me," Y/n replied, giving the girl that made her sound like she was a thing to own and take care of a forced smile.

"But you are labelled the same way he is."

Well, Y/n knew that it wasn't right, that cheating wasn't excusable, but here she was, going behind her long-term boyfriend's back for the past four months. Her excuse was the good and more of her type of sex that came with Jennie, but that's all it was, sex. She tried to make it fair and excusable in her head even if she knew that it wasn't. Jennie was good and satisfying sex while Asher was someone who truly treated her right and trusted her because they loved each other. They had been together for four years now in the end and lived together as they continued to study at the same university where they met at 18 and he 19.

It was also where she met Jennie although the girl didn't study there.

[Four months ago]

Y/n continued to watch the 29-year-old woman at the front who had been holding a speech for the class for the past hour about stockbroking and entrepreneurship. "You don't think she's glancing this way quite a lot?" Y/n looked at her friend Lisa who sat beside her as they sat in the middle row, her cheek resting against her fist as it was a Saturday and the hungover was still keeping her dizzy.

They usually didn't have anything on Saturdays, but Lisa had been kind enough (Not really) and signed herself and Y/n up for this lecture from a person who became a millionaire at 20, a billionaire at 25 and had dropped out of university and become an entrepreneur before starting her own stockbroker company. Y/n had lost track, but she had no clue how this was supposed to help as it felt like someone would be stupid enough to drop out and try to achieve the same thing only to fail miserably.

"Called Parkinson, her head is twitching our way against her will the way she's fighting it," Y/n commented and both she and Lisa tried to keep their giggles quiet. She had realised that Jennie Kim had been glancing their way quite a lot, but it looked like she tried not to. Lisa shoved the girl who made her giggle louder than intended as everything was much funnier when they weren't allowed to be loud and had been sitting bored and hungover for a good hour.

"Y/l/n and Manoban." The voice was stern from Professor Kalinski and the two nudged each other with their knees under the table. Seemingly it got louder than intended in a classroom where only one person had been speaking and everyone else had sat quietly or talked with hushed tones or only talked to ask questions. As Kalinski said it took a while to get the woman to come and hold this lecture because she was extremely busy.

"Sorry, we're really sorry." Lisa apologised and Y/n held back the chuckle at how forced that was and got nudged once again, making Y/n do it right back. Her eyes landed on the brunette who was dressed in simple loose dark blue jeans and a plain white shirt with sunglasses resting at the top of her head. If she hadn't known or heard about Jennie Kim before she would have assumed the woman had gotten lost along the way and wasn't some billionaire who walked around with a manager and bodyguards. Despite the designer, she dressed simply.

"Sorry doesn't excuse this disrespectful behaviour." Kalinski pressed and Y/n inhaled before deeply exhaling as she leaned back and rolled her eyes. It felt unnecessary for Professor Kalinski to drag it out even more, that was even more disrespectful in her opinion as he was taking the woman's time.

"No, it's fine." Lisa nudged Y/n when Jennie spoke up and the girl raised her eyebrows at the woman at the front.

"She says it's fine." Y/n pointed out and looked at her professor, but instead of him speaking up about the matter, Jennie continued.

"It's fine because maybe you two have something to add or point out about the lecture I've held for you today." The two got offered a smile and Lisa glanced at Y/n, wondering if Y/n would say anything while also hoping she wouldn't because the vixen rarely held back.

"Not really, we just—" Lisa got cut off by Y/n who sat up straight, her glossy and plump lips parting as heads turned when she spoke. They usually did when it came to the girl who had become known as unattainable because of being hard to get close to and also being taken. Her exotic beauty made her stand out and not fit in at a college but a runway.

"I do have some points to make about this whole lecture." Jennie nodded at that as she leaned against the Professor's desk and took the glasses off from her head. She pointed at Y/n with them and gave a nod of affirmation. "Go ahead then, I am always open to criticism and feedback." She gave her averment with her eyes on no one else but the girl whose eyes were alluring from across a room, leaking with seduction that had the older woman stunned.

"I think that having Miss Kim hold a lecture was genuinely a terrible idea." Y/n started as she saw no point in the woman coming and telling the class about her life, and then lecturing them a bit about entrepreneurship and stockbroking. Jennie hummed, nodding along to what the girl said, listening to every word she said with her eyes not leaving the girl for even a second. They were drilling into her but not in an angry way, they just stared.

"Why is that?" The woman at the front asked and Y/n sucked air through her teeth.

"I believe it might give many the wrong impression that anyone can drop out and become a billionaire."

"Anyone can." Jennie prompted and Y/n shook her head as she had read about it all before and what Jennie had been talking about wasn't anything new to her. The only thing new to her was the little life story she told about dropping out, how she started and where she was now. Things Y/n would never have any use of.

"Yes, anyone can drop out and try, but not everyone will succeed and what they risk is dropping a sustainable future for something that only approximately 0.035% of the whole world is. The odds are against most people in this room even if they were to become at least millionaires which is like 1.1% of the world despite the numbers of millionaires are growing."

"What would you do differently then?" Jennie asked as each point was valid and the younger girl had a sharp tongue for sure. It would irritate Jennie, but she was too blinded by everything else to be hurt and instead, it only enhanced the vixen's beauty.

"I wouldn't be selling unattainable dreams to students who are desperate for money and willing to try most things— most people in this room lack common sense." Some murmurs followed the words that were directed towards the whole class and it wasn't the first time the vixen had done something to upset a classroom. Jennie smiled at that and cut Kalinski off who was just about to speak up, probably to give Y/n yet another warning for her attitude.

"Would you mind talking with me after this lecture? I believe we could exchange some words that could benefit us both."

"Depends, I'm on a tight schedule Miss."

"Five minutes?"

"Fine." With that Jennie went right back to where she had been stopped when the two giggling girls distracted the whole class.

"What the fuck are you two going to talk about?" Lisa asked in a hushed tone as she had no clue what the two could contribute to each other. She knew that Y/n would probably take it seriously or continue ridiculing the woman just because she could. "Don't know, I'm just hungover and tired." Y/n groaned and rested her elbows against the table before burning her face in her palms.

It wasn't long until the lecture was over and Y/n had gathered her stuff together with Lisa. The professor and Jennie were talking with each other at the front and it had slipped the girl's mind that the woman wanted to talk to her until Lisa spoke up while they were walking down the stairs to get to the door.

"You agreed to talk with her, so do it," Lisa said and pushed the girl in the other direction before walking herself towards the door. Y/n heaved a sigh that seemed to catch the two older adults' attention. Professor Kalinski glanced at Y/n before he looked back at Jennie, the two shook hands and bid goodbye before the man grabbed his things and left together with the three people who had been with Jennie. They closed the door and left the two alone.

"You seem like a sharp-witted person..." Jennie trailed off and looked at the girl as she was fishing for a name she did not know. This time standing face to face with the girl who looked like a copy of Irina Shayk, but with grey-blueish eyes, her scent was making Jennie lose even more of the track she tried to stay on, but the more she tried to keep an eye contact with the siren eyes the harder it was becoming. 

"It's Y/n. I don't know if I can say the same about someone who lectures students about dropping out and shooting at stars in broad daylight." Y/n wholeheartedly said as she still hadn't changed her mind about how stupid this whole thing was aside from the 30 minutes Jennie had been speaking about stockbroking. "Plus to be able to summarise your life story in an hour seems pretty sad and not as story-rich as you try to come off as. Not all rich people need to have a sob story behind their success. You could have just said that you struggled at the start, but had a support system which were rich parents." The girl drilled on in a tone that let Jennie know that she wasn't enthusiastic about this at all because of how monotone it was and low, holding a rasp to it compared to the tone she used earlier.

"That's kind of harsh." Jennie pointed out. She hadn't had anyone stomp her this way before and she couldn't determine how she felt about it, Y/n shrugged.

"I hear that they call reality quite harsh." She gave her a smile that was also as forced as the other ones before.

"That they do, but I think your words are refreshing since not many people are this honest with me." It was a change and reality check even if she didn't necessarily like them, but this one came in handy for the future.

"Well–" Y/n started and ignored the lingering gaze on her body as it wasn't the first time. Jennie looked over the washed-out olive green denim skirt the girl had with a tight spaghetti strap top in a similar colour with a velvety material midriff zip-up that was a darker grey. The pair of white shin-high boots made her taller as she was already taller than the older girl by probably four inches. "Have you considered the thought that if someone is leeching off of you and your money they might sugarcoat everything for you?" She finished and Jennie looked up after trying to finalise in her head if the girl had her nipples pierced or not. She did and Jennie shifted in her spot as her hands found their way into the pockets of her jeans.

"I have been told that it might happen." Y/n nodded at that and gave Jennie a look that stated that she was quite done with their five-minute talk even if it hadn't been five minutes yet. "Wait–" Jennie stopped the girl who was about to turn around and leave and Y/n stalled as she looked at the woman with a hum.

"Would you want to meet up and continue this conversation but go into more depth on a day when you aren't busy?" She questioned and looked at Y/n with hopeful eyes. Y/n contemplated for a few seconds as she didn't know Jennie more than from what she'd heard and what the woman had told about herself. She had a boyfriend too and wasn't sure how he would feel about it, but at the same time it was just a meeting and Y/n never expected or assumed these things.

"I'm not really into fancy restaurants and wine." Y/n declined as she could tell that Jennie would want to meet over some fancy dinner which wasn't her cup of tea at all. The latter scratched her nape and hummed. "Yacht party next Friday?" Jennie offered.

"Motion sickness." Y/n declined, making it hard for Jennie who let out a gruffly hum in thought at how impossible it felt to get to talk to the girl. It felt like roles had been switched and that the vixen was the busy billionaire although she knew that she was just as busy with studying as she was with work.

"Club opening on Saturday, invite-only, we can enter from the back to avoid any cameras." Something was telling the girl that if both her Friday and Saturday were booked by parties, the girl wasn't just some fancy CEO but lived a life filled with parties that Y/n could not afford or experience since she didn't have the same status.

"I guess." Jennie nodded at that with a small smile. "Do I get your number then?"

"Sure." Y/n was handed the phone and she quickly typed in her number before she handed the phone back and the door to the classroom opened. The two looked at the entrance where a tall and lean guy peeked inside, brown curls, dressed in a pair of washed-out blue jeans and a black tee with vans. He smiled and Y/n returned it.

"Lisa said you would be here, sorry if I am disturbing you two, I will wait outside." He apologised and closed the door after him again. Y/n looked back at Jennie who had a small frown.

"I think that's all, you can text me, I don't answer calls, anyway, my boyfriend is waiting, bye." The woman didn't get to say anything else as the girl was already walking towards the door, leaving only her sweet and flowery aroma.

"So, you're going with this Jennie Kim? How old is she, Y/n and who is she?" Asher asked the girl who was busy finishing her make-up by the vanity table as she applied lip gloss. Her boyfriend was always present and watching her get ready ever since they met as he would leave sweet and cheesy compliments about how good she looked and how much he loved her. 

"29 I think? She held a lecture last week since she's this billionaire that owns a stockbroker company and shares in many other companies that do different things from entertainment to entrepreneurship." Y/n explained what she had heard about the woman who was going up in net worth every living second. The woman who could sleep on money Y/n could only dream about, money most people could only dream about.

"You haven't heard about her?" She questioned and looked at the guy older through the mirror. There was a whole buzz about the woman as she even had TV ads, interviews, being a guest on programs, shoots and whatnot. Her company was more known than her, but she still had a great following and wasn't just some old CEO, but someone attractive who was among celebrities with invites to luxury events. It felt hard to miss her and Y/n just so happened to be going out with her, but she wasn't too invested in Jennie as a person. She always had an interest in the topic of economics and always took opportunities when she had them.

"No...I'm not interested in all that stuff, you know that I am more invested in volleyball." She hummed at that as the guy was prone to playing professionally soon enough as he was being offered deals and was playing for the university's official team. "I just want to know that you will be fine and nothing bad will happen to you." That was the guy's only worry, Y/n's safety as it was the most important thing to him.

"I will be all fine." She reassured him and got up from the chair as she turned off the mirror lights. The vixen walked over to her boyfriend who looked up at her as he sat at the edge of the bed, facing the vanity table. She grabbed his hand as he intertwined their fingers, his hand being much bigger than hers, the guy was bigger in general as he was a middle blocker at 6 '5. "I don't know if you have to wait 'cause I'm not sure when I will be back." The girl said. It was already 9:50 p.m. and her phone notification went off as she was supposed to be picked up at 10.

"So, your boyfriend just lets you go out to clubs with anyone?" Jennie asked as the two were almost near the said club. Y/n got busy with her phone through the middle of the conversation although not in a rude way, but simply because she had to mute it and send a quick reply to her group chat with friends so they would let her breathe.

"Why wouldn't he?" She questioned and put her phone beside her bare thigh, this time dressed in all black. A denim skater mini skirt, lace corset top and an oversized leather jacket. She couldn't tell if Jennie was heading to a club or if she was heading for a quick run for groceries as she was dressed in simple loose jeans again and a long sleeve with a black blazer just as loose. Jennie shrugged at that, deciding not to comment further on it.

Y/n wasn't stupid, she had caught Jennie's lingering gaze a long time ago, it was evident when they first spoke, but she honestly always ignored those gazes as she always stayed collected. It wasn't like she could do anything about it since she didn't control people even if certain gazes made her uncomfortable at times. She knew better and if she paid any mind to those she wouldn't be talking to many people at all. People got over their crushes and befriended her instead. Somewhere along the conversations with Jennie at the club that had gone surprisingly smoothly and weren't conversations where Y/n was hissy, some things did go wrong.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Y/n exclaimed as she stared into the mirror in front of her. Her pupils were blown, her body felt warm and fuzzy, warm enough for the leather jacket to get discarded in the club, her heart was beating hard and not too steady and she kept her jaw clenched to not bite off her tongue because of how her jaw was jumping basically from the bruxism. The feeling was all too familiar as she had taken it before, but it had all been willingly and not this way.

"I swear, I told her to hand you the water, but not that water." Jennie tried to excuse it as the water with ecstasy got handed to Y/n instead of the regular one. The girl was under the influence of alcohol so the taste didn't occur to her until she felt its effects. At least she had gotten closer to Jennie which made it less stupid to be high at the moment.

Y/n turned around, her siren eyes looking at the woman who she had been drinking with tonight while talking— not only was she drunk, but now also high on molly. She patted over her body, her touch feeling like brushing feathers over her body that felt like a warm and fuzzy cloud as if she was dipped in a warm and comforting bath, a sheet of sweat covering her from how warm it was. "My phone is in your car. Do you have gum? And please for the love of God, can we do something that does not include standing in this bathroom." Y/n rambled, stumbling over her tongue before clenching her jaw again to not injure herself, but the hard clenching wasn't much better because it felt like her teeth would crack.

Although she couldn't care about it since she felt too good and suddenly she wasn't too mad as she felt like every little thing that had ever bothered her, or happened, or her shitty mental health had all disappeared and she felt invincible to everything harmful. She felt free and open. Jennie bit her lower lip, looking into grey eyes that were black from the blown pupils.

"Come on," Jennie said and grabbed Y/n's hand, it felt like she was wrapped in cotton candy and the urge to just cling onto the woman was getting overwhelming Jennie guided her through the club. It took longer than necessary as Y/n talked to everyone they stopped by as people would greet them, but in the end, they reached the club's roof terrace that had been off limits because of uncertain weather. The wind blew cold against Jennie's skin, but against Y/n's it felt like feathers brushed her skin. Y/n gently chewed the gum she asked for from a girl they ran into who seemed to be in the same situation as her.

"Why did we run away from the social party?" Y/n questioned as she felt like talking to everything and everyone.

"I don't want you to get a heat stroke," Jennie replied and guided the girl along with her towards the couches that were under a roof. Y/n's hand was cold in her hold, holding a water bottle in her other hand that only had water this time, but the girl was heated up to the point where the clothes she had on now felt too warm to wear despite barely having anything on. 

"Have you taken ecstasy before?" The older woman asked to make sure that Y/n would be fine, she glanced over her shoulder to see the girl looking around the place with her lips parted. Her eyes sparkled as everything felt much more mesmerising and meaningful, to the point where meaningless things felt meaningful as the stars were close to making her tear up from how pretty they looked in the night sky. Y/n sighed as she felt great.

"Yeah, a few times, but I always get fried after so I try to only take it once or twice a year," Y/n explained, adding more than needed as Jennie sat down on the terrace couch and pulled Y/n down beside her. She opened the water bottle and handed it to the girl who sat slumped on the couch. Y/n took it, her mouth constantly running dry as her heart continued to pound in her ribcage. The emotions felt so real and heightened and she handed the water right back to Jennie after taking a sip.

Jennie didn't mind when Y/n grabbed her hand and wrapped it around her shoulders before leaning against her. Her body felt like a cloud that was embraced by another warmth as she wanted nothing more than to be held and in someone's company. It was like gentle waves that washed into shore and were heated by the sun, sparkling in the light. "I don't think we should stay long, you might get too cold...Your body isn't regulating heat or cold like it should." Jennie commented and pulled the girl closer to herself as Y/n's body started to get cold yet was still covered in a sheet of sweat and her hands felt a bit clammy.

Her eyes looked over the girl who was leaning against her, she couldn't lie and say that it didn't feel like another ego boost to hold a girl who looked like a Victoria angel. Her long legs brushed against Jennie's, exposed and glistening, her scent lingering around them, her cleavage being somewhat in the view from the top-

"It must be nice to be this rich," Y/n mumbled as she thought about who it was that sat with their arms wrapped around her as she laid with her cheek pressed against Jenne's clavicle. Her ears picked up the calming beat of Jennie's heart and the older felt like a fluffy bear the way she held her. The drug made her more touchy and open for it as she wouldn't otherwise be so clingy with the woman, but it felt too nice. 

"Yes and no...It's like you said; some people only leech off of me and don't care about more than the benefits of being close to me. Dating is also quite shitty. It gets lonely at times. Money does buy happiness, it also gets you friends and partners, but it tends to be fabricated." Y/n tilted her head back at that and looked at Jennie who looked back down at her. She chuckled at the girl who was chewing the gum with her mouth closed as her jaw was still impossible to unclench.

Y/n pouted. "I feel bad for you now." Jennie laughed at the tone of the girl and reached her hand over to her face.

"You will hurt yourself, try to open your mouth a little, Y/n."

"I can't." Y/n whined as it felt hopeless and overwhelming with how she couldn't control her clenched jaw.

Jennie gripped her jaw and could feel the vibration from how hard it was clenched. "That feels good," Y/n mumbled and closed her eyes, Jennie brushed her fingers along her smooth face. The feeling was still like feathers as her skin felt so soft and made each hair on her body stand. It was making her melt.

"You're really beautiful." Jennie complimented as she felt more daring now that the girl's cold demeanour was gone because of the drugs and she was acting all soft, whiny and mushy. Y/n sighed and opened her eyes as she stared at Jennie who she found very beautiful too. "I know, but it's hard to be this pretty, I am sure you understand." Jennie couldn't help but laugh as she continued to gently trace her fingers over the girl's face and down.

Jennie decided to use this chance and ask the girl some questions as she was somewhat drunk–answering questions too and Y/n was high and not as cold and closed off anymore. Maybe she could insinuate and get close enough to the girl.

"What's with the mean girl attitude though?" She asked and traced her fingers down Y/n's neck who lay with her head against her shoulder. The two looked at each other and Y/n sighed once again through her nose, enjoying the way Jennie softly ran her fingers over her sensitive body. They went over her collarbones, running down the neckline that stopped in the middle of her chest and back up, it brought shivers over her body and Y/n felt like she would melt from how good it felt to be held and touched.

"I've been a bully since middle school and I guess it just stuck to me and now I am what people like to call a mean girl..." She explained.

"Is that it?" She asked as it felt like a short answer.

"I'm not mean to my friends or family, well, I am at times but in a joking manner. I just guess it's easier to push people away when you aren't approachable. I also decided to live up to the stereotype and be a mean pretty girl instead of a dumb blonde since I otherwise would get categorized as dumb simply because of the way I look. My looks are preceding." She listened to every word that came from Y/n, getting a better understanding of what it felt like to be her. Y/n opened up and let Jennie take a step inside and see what her world could look like. 

Jennie's was much different.

"Why do you push people away?" She watched the way Y/n jutted out her lower lip. The intense emotions surged through her whole body. "Because people come and they go, but I don't like the going part, I hate it, I truly hate being left alone."

"I can see how being mean helps with that."

Y/n gazed her eyes over the older woman who stared at her with an intensity that felt dangerous from how it made her body tingle when she would usually ignore it. The warmth just felt too good to pull away from. She hummed at Jennie's words that crawled gently over her skin.

"Did you agree to come because of the benefits of seeing someone like me?" Jennie asked in a whisper and ran her hand up to Y/n's face. She traced her jaw as she waited for the answer, feeling like the girl would be honest with her since she was under the influence of the love drug and people tended to just spill their feelings when they were. Jennie knew because she did and tried to avoid the drug unless she was around people she trusted dearly. The water with ecstasy was truly an accident, but maybe it wasn't such a bad accident.

"Yeah, but for the benefit of your knowledge even if your lecture was fucking stupid. You know things I don't and I don't mind learning from someone who has experience, but I don't care about your fame or money or your personal life...I get nothing out of it since I am content with my life."

"I have a lot of experience Y/n if you don't care about those things, experience in a vast majority of things and knowledge too that I wouldn't mind sharing." Jennie licked her lips, her tone dropping to a more hushed one as it was low in pitch too. Y/n found herself swallowing down her dry throat as the woman ran her thumb over her bottom lip.

"I don't think that's—" Y/n started, but Jennie stopped her.

"You should open your mouth before you hurt yourself, Y/n," Jennie said and grabbed hold of her jaw once again. This time Y/n parted her lips and Jennie leaned closer as she turned her body. "We should replace your gum too." She added and gestured to the girl who pushed the piece of gum out from between her lips and Jennie proceeded to take it and toss it away. It wasn't a bad accident as it let her insinuate much easier and let her get into this position with the model-like girl.

Then came yet another wrong turn as Jennie helped Y/n lay down who held onto her shoulders, settling herself between the girl's long legs. She looked at her as she pushed her hair away with one hand, the other resting beside her head. "Will you mind? If you do, just tell me to back off because I am not forcing you into anything, Y/n." Jennie spoke, leaning closer to Y/n's plump and glossy lips, her enticing scent sweet and floral, the vanilla lingering on her lips. Y/n's mind felt fuzzy and her body even more heated in the moment with Jennie on top of her who smelled of citrus, spices, cedar and musk. It held a comfort, the scent was calming.

"You will stop if I tell you to?" Y/n asked to make sure as she couldn't figure out if she would back out in the middle or not as everything was overwhelming.

"I promise you, star," Jennie reassured the girl who nodded. 

It felt too good to deny with her fingers already threading into Jennie's hair, relishing in the feeling of all the textures that felt like the euphoria that she was in. Jennie leaned in and closed the gap between them, catching the girl's lips with hers as Y/n pulled her closer to herself. Her heart was pounding against Jennie who was on top of her with her hand gently running along her waist which was enough for the younger girl to sigh in contentment at the feelings.

Jennie tilted her head, pushing her tongue into Y/n's mouth with her hand running under the corset top. It felt lavish against her body, it felt too good to have hands run over her body and Jennie's warm and slick tongue pressing against hers. The older girl pushed herself more into Y/n, pushing her semi against her as the alcohol had made her horny to the point where she had been walking with it since the bathroom.

Y/n lightly hummed, feeling Jennie press against the heat between her legs, making her push more into the older girl whose hand found it to her breast. Jennie pulled away from her lips, watching Y/n's face, her pupils blown in a daze and her fingers played with the girl's pierced nipple and she smiled. "You're so sexy, I had a hard time looking anywhere else in that classroom." Jennie's voice sent goosebumps over Y/n's skin who leaned back in and caught her lips. The girl cupped her breast, brushing her thumb over the jewellery and hard nipple.

Their breathing grew heavier, Y/n's chest heaving as her lips let go of Jennie's, too overwhelmed by all the touch over her body. The girl pushed her one leg apart more until it fell down the couch and Jennie made herself more comfortable between her legs, this time Y/n could feel Jennie's cock pressed against her heat fully as her skirt rode up her thighs. "Feels good," Y/n mumbled as her eyes closed at the lips that trailed along her neck. They were wet kisses like a paintbrush gently painting her skin. Jennie hummed at the words that gently brushed their way into her ears, Y/n being lost in bliss.

The vixen moved her head and Jennie looked up at her. Y/n's heart was picking up more and more, the throbbing becoming too much between her legs as it had left her underwear damp. "I want you to fuck me, Jennie." She breathed out and Jennie kissed her once again, the words making her dick throb at how much she wanted to do what the girl asked for. 

She sucked on her bottom lip, savouring the taste of vanilla from the lipgloss while reaching her hand between their bodies, the other still resting beside Y/n's head. The music was completely muted in their world, the faint talking coming from below them from outside the club, the nightlife of the city being at full speed while the two were melting in their acidic clouds of lust. The world didn't disappear, but they went through a door to a new one. It was an invite to Sin City.

Jennie unzipped her pants, pushing them down just enough together with her boxer briefs at the front to take her leaking cock out that was scalding in her hold, the vein throbbing. Blindly she pushed Y/n's skirt up more and the girl whimpered when Jennie brushed her fingers over her wet pussy as she pulled the lace underwear to the side. The only thing on her mind was to bury herself deep within Y/n's warmth as imaging it hadn't been enough.

She pulled away from her lips, still brushing over them as they both held them parted, breaths fanning against each other from their hitched breathing. She guided her sensitive tip to her entrance while pumping herself. Y/n's breath fell short when she felt the stretch, Jennie's tip slowly pushing into her tight hole as the two moaned. Y/n drowned in how it overtook her body as Jennie moved her hips in one smooth motion, filling her and making her moan and whine at the painful stretch that somehow felt good at the same time. 

Jennie stalled her movement at the snug grip on her cock, the girl being tight as her pussy greedily took her throbbing in-need cock. All she wanted to do was milk the girl full with her cum. The older woman wanted to remove their clothes and be able to see the way her cock stretched the girl out who was holding back on whimpers. To be able and see how her thick cock spread her lips and pushed inside. Her pussy was wet and warm, fitting her tightly. "You're so tight, Y/n, you feel so good." She moaned, placing both her forearms beside the girl's head as she buried her face in her neck.

"Fuck, oh god, fuck, make me feel good, Jennie." Y/n practically begged at the stinging stretch, feeling the scalding dick deep inside her. The woman on top of her let out something between a moan and a groan when she started to move. Y/n's hands clutched onto her shoulders as her head got thrown back. The thrusts picked up to deep and rough, with each a light moan followed by how full she felt and the way Jennie's pelvis was brushing against her clit. Her cock dragged along her walls, getting swallowed by her slick cunt, the girl feeling the way the bulbous pink tip caressed her g-spot as it curved just the right amount. It was making her whole body tingle and clit throb at Jennie's touch.

Jennie let out heavy breaths and grunts, the tight and sweltering walls slick and throbbing around her swollen cock. A moan followed from her lips and she clenched her jaw with her eyes closing tightly at how good it felt to be fucking the girl that had managed to give her a semi with the way she rolled her eyes in the classroom. Y/n's hands gripped onto Jennie's shirt, her moans falling into Jennie's ears as her legs spasmed with her back arching, chest pressing against Jennie's. Her thrusts got harsher but the pace stayed in the same tempo of a beating heart. Y/n let out a gasp at the pleasurable pain of getting stuffed by the older woman's cock who knew exactly how to position herself to fuck her right. It made her walls clamp down around her with each thrust.

It started to wash over her, it went through every nerve in her body, her veins getting filled with more chemicals as her whole body tingled the closer she got. "Your pussy is amazing, God, I want to fuck you right every single day." Jennie groaned out, her stomach twisting as she couldn't hold herself longer from how good Y/n felt around her. She felt almost disappointed with herself because she wanted to keep fucking the vixen whose cunt was taking away her breath, but her orgasm was coming quickly.

Unable to last as long as she usually did– it didn't seem to matter when Y/n's walls clasped around her and she felt nails dig into her shoulders. The moans were light and whiny, Y/n unable to grasp how good it felt or what exactly she was feeling when it came crashing like a harsh wave over her whole body. Jennie's jaw clasped closed, the sound coming out strained when her hips stuttered this time, the first rope of cum shooting right into her and she buried herself balls deep inside the pussy that was pulsating around her cock that continued to spurt out thick ropes of cum. It only made the vixen feel even more filled at how the warm cum splattered her walls white.

Y/n opened her eyes as more washed over her, this time not an orgasm or pleasure as her heart started to beat harder and faster than after the orgasm. She stared at the roof over them that was blocking the sky. That's when it stopped feeling good as Yn knew the whole time that Asher was waiting for her at home whom she loved and who loved her dearly yet she still proceeded with something that felt good in the moment but left her feeling sick after because of herself.

"Did you cum inside me?" She asked to make sure the woman panting into her neck as she laid on top of her came inside her. At the back of her head, she knew that she did because she could still feel her inside, the thick member growing soft. Her hands gripped her shirt, slowly unable to handle all the emotions that were so much stronger from the drug coursing through her veins. All she could do was feel guilty and regret allowing herself to go as far as this. Y/n knew she had no excuse for it except for the selfishness that washed over her at the moment; lust.

Jennie swallowed and slowly pulled her limp dick out of the girl. She pushed herself up and looked down between them as she first fixed Y/n's underwear and skirt. "Yeah—" She simply replied and sat up, leaning back against the backrest of the couch, swiftly putting her cock back inside her drawers as Y/n pushed herself up to sit while trying to not get eaten by the strong emotions. "I assumed you're on birth control since you have a boyfriend," Jennie added while zipping her pants back up, glancing at Y/n who had her eyes elsewhere. She frowned, waiting for a reply from the girl as she now got worried that she wasn't on any birth control.

"I have an implant," Y/n replied and before Jennie could ask more her head snapped towards the door where they had walked out from that got pushed open with loud laughter and talking. The music became less muffled before the door fell closed and it got muffled once again. Y/n's mind was in a daze, drowning in the strong guilt she felt as the people joined them, unable to talk to them as there was a lump in her throat the whole time.

Jennie hadn't managed to say a word to Y/n except to ask if she was ready to leave when the clock struck close to 3 am. She spent the car ride watching the girl whose pupils slowly went back to normal typing away on her phone. Jennie was unsure of what to say so she didn't say anything. It didn't feel necessary to ask anything since they barely knew each other and had only talked about some common interests and to other people who joined them and then the sex. 

She assumed that sex was the problem, but it wasn't her problem since she was satisfied.

Y/n reached for the door handle right away when the car stopped outside her and Asher's apartment complex. However, she got stopped by Jennie who grabbed hold of her wrist because she still had to make sure of one thing that she had been worried about. She knew that she should be more careful. Y/n looked back at the woman.

"Are you sure that you're on birth control? I mean, I could ask my manager to get you plan B's right now if you aren't." Y/n rolled her eyes at the question. She sharply exhaled through her nose and grabbed hold of Jennie's hand and brought it up to her arm, guiding two fingers over the implant and letting Jennie feel that it was there. She dropped the woman's hand and opened the door, without a word more she got out and slammed the door closed after her.

Y/n had made it inside the silent apartment, kicked off her shoes and gone straight to the shower to wash away the filth she felt like she was. She knew that she wouldn't be able to get rid of it though because she couldn't reverse the fact that she had cheated on the guy she had been with for four years. The one who trusted her every time she went out without him. The one whose heart she had in her hands and knew would crush if she told him. Y/n wasn't ready to lose him, she didn't want to. She loved him even if it made her even more selfish. She had already been selfish once and saw no reason to stop.

She had put on her pyjama pants and shirt that she had left in the bathroom earlier and went straight to the couch. Unable to walk the way to the bedroom and lay down beside someone clueless while being aware of what she had done. It didn't feel right to go to the home she had with him after letting in someone uninvited. Vinci lay beside her as she buried her face in his fur and let the tears slowly bleed from her eyes.

She blocked Jennie's number, not because she cheated on her boyfriend with her, but because she had a feeling she would do it again if she saw the woman. Despite the terrible feelings and how horrible it made her—she couldn't deny how good it felt and it made her feel even worse about it all.

[Present]

"But you are labelled the same way he is."

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Y/n questioned as Jennie couldn't keep it out of her mouth whenever she saw the girl. Jennie knew that Y/n was the type of girl who had a mouth too good for her good in many ways, but one was that she could say things that would get on her nerves. She turned the swivel chair as her hand let go of Y/n's jaw and this time grabbed hold of her neck before a clatter followed when she pushed the chair into the vanity table.

"Watch what you're saying. I'm not obsessed with him, I'm just stating the fact that you are dating someone stupid enough to let his girlfriend walk without being there to make sure no one else is wetting their dick in her."

"That's because he trusts me not to let it happen which I guess you've always had a hard time with...Is that why you run to someone taken instead of finding someone who wants you?" For a second, Y/n could feel the grip tighten on her neck. The woman stared her down as she was towering over her because she was sitting in the chair. Jennie poked at the inside of her cheek. She knew that she had no right to fight with the girl about these things so she didn't do it this time. She also knew that the vixen had a thing for making her angry, it was either because of the sex that came with it or to degrade the person she was cheating with because she felt horrible but couldn't stop even when she tried.

She grabbed Jennie's wrist, the older woman looking into the eyes that turned docile and she loosened her grip on her throat. The two weren't sure when the arguing started as it happened at times but it did some time after they started to see each other. "There's no reason to take it there Y/n when you could instead take my cock and if you want to study you could sit on it and do it. Be a good cock-warmer instead." Jennie suggested as she didn't come over to fight with the girl, but Y/n was petty–towards Jennie that is. All she came for was to stick her dick into the girl and spend time with it there.

Jennie liked meaningless sex.

"How bout I go out, buy a strap, and have you sit on it while I study?" Y/n suggested right back as she tilted her head. The only thing she planned on doing was studying and she only replied to Jennie to have her stop texting, but it backfired as the older woman came knocking on her door instead. Y/n was always occupied with school, work, friends and her boyfriend. She had no time for Jennie aside from the times when Asher had competitions and it was the season for them so it happened more often now. He'd be away for a day, two or more on tournaments and Y/n would try to make it with their friends to some.

Jennie's schedule was more versatile considering she mostly worked from home and got to schedule and reschedule however she liked. People wanted her time, not the other way around with one exception which was Y/n.

"Why are you being an asshole when I am just offering you some quality time together?" Y/n removed Jennie's hand from her neck and the woman stepped back when Y/n got up from the chair. Jennie didn't mind that the girl was taller, it was hot in her opinion. "You must be really into ass stuff if you keep coming back to fuck me then." She grabbed hold of Jennie's shoulders and pushed the woman until the back of her knees hit the bed and Jennie sat down. Her hands found their way to the girl's ass as she held it while looking up at her.

"Not like you are letting me." She muttered as Y/n hadn't even let her take off her top or touch her the way she liked. If Jennie knew, she would have never gotten involved with the vixen because she had been running right back to her despite having the option of many other girls. She couldn't figure out if it was the sex, the pussy, Y/n's skills, or maybe the girl in general even if she at times left the place with more pent-up anger than when she came over.

The vixen wasn't one to fight, she deemed herself to not be toxic until she stumbled upon Jennie. She couldn't tell if it was the guilt and shame she felt from cheating whenever she was with Asher—those feelings that disappeared with Jennie. She had never had any serious or real fights, some bickering and misunderstandings always happened—it changed though. It felt like they were fighting every other day now and Y/n knew that it was all her, that it was her fault. She loved him, she loved him too much to break his heart and hoped that he would do it instead, but she knew that it couldn't go on like this.

Y/n looked down, being able to see the print of Jennie's semi-hard dick through the grey sweats. "Not sure I will either." She replied and pushed Jennie to lay down on her back before coming up to straddle her. The woman let out a huff at the pressure put on her dick which had been growing hard ever since she left her place and started to think about the girl. Y/n's warm and light body planted itself on top of her and she groaned at the feeling that made her body react.

"Shouldn't you be at some big private party fucking other girls?" Y/n asked and Jennie released a shaky breath at how she started to gyrate her hips, grinding down on her growing cock. Jennie was a busy person, she had girls willing to suck her off at every corner and yet she was showing up to Y/n's apartment. It seemed stupid in Y/n's opinion to miss out on those parties and that life, she knew that if she were in Jennie's shoes she wouldn't be missing out on it.

Her eyes stayed on where Y/n was pressed down against her, watching how she as smoothly as waves moved her clothed cunt against her restrained cock. "They're no fun alone...What're you doing tomorrow?" She breathed out. 

Y/n smiled and leaned closer, her hips not stopping as she could feel Jennie's erection right against her heat. The older woman's chest heaved and her grip got tighter on Y/n's ass, fondling her cheeks as groping at the siren's body only turned her on even more. To trace each perfect curve, the slim body was easy to hold and bend. "I'm busy tomorrow, my friends are sleeping here and then we are going out on Saturday," Y/n replied, rolling her hips against Jennie's throbbing cock, the friction growing as her hips stuttered into Y/n, dry humping at her. The older woman wanted nothing more than for the girl to take it in either her mouth or snug cunt. She loved both.

"Don't go." It strained, coming from the back of her throat as she suppressed the moan that was close to pushing through from the friction. Her cock leaking with the salty pre-cum and staining as Y/n glanced down to see a small wet spot. It made her continue, Jennie was unable to look away from how smoothly her hips rolled back and forth with ease, there was no stutter or messy humping aside from the way her hips buckled up. It made her grip tighten even more as she held back on the sounds that wanted to escape her lips since the girl hadn't even touched her skin.

"What?"

"I told you not to go. Call and cancel." Jennie let out, between her uneven heavy breaths, her hips bucking into the girl who was whining against the big erection. The woman was a shower in general and the print was always there, but it got very prominent now that she was erect. There was nothing better than Jennie pushing it all right into her and stretching her out, but Y/n's ego got in the way right now.

"Why would I do as you tell me?" Y/n questioned, staring down at the older woman whose vein was popping out at the side of her throat. She reached her one hand to her throat, brushing her fingers over it. The request seemed fairly odd, but it wasn't new that Jennie tried to order her around. Jennie tried to get control she didn't have because she didn't have Y/n to begin with because she was intruding on a home. 

"I'm not telling you what to do." Jennie defended and was about to lift herself, her eyes trained on their parts that were pressing against each other, Y/n's ass dragging along her and pressing down harder. The patch of precum on her sweats had grown bigger and the outline was lined up perfectly for the girl. She was ready to either fuck the girl or bust any second which she was not up for since she would find it embarrassing if she came in her underwear. She didn't get to sit up though as the fingers that were tracing her vein grabbed hold of her throat and held her down.

"You did." Y/n knew what she heard and what she did hear sounded much like a demand that Jennie had no position to place.

"I asked," Jennie argued in a quiver, her tone defensive and in a rasp as her dick was throbbing, the friction only continued to grow as Y/n pressed down harder against her. This time a grunt escaped her as she couldn't hold back, Y/n's breath hitching every time she dragged over the mushroom tip and rubbed at her covered clit that was pulsating at how needy she had gotten just from rubbing against her.

"That wasn't asking, that was ordering." Her eyes snapped up at Y/n who wasn't letting it go.

"You must've heard me wrong. I said, "Could you call and cancel?" Y/n chuckled at those words, finding it ridiculous that Jennie was trying to lie. She knew what she had heard her say. The woman always defended her wrongs and never righted them.

"You didn't." Y/n calmly said as she knew that Jennie was losing her cool because her orgasm was approaching and she wasn't getting things the way she wanted them to be. That was her worst nightmare in the end. Y/n wasn't giving in and was putting up a fight when most girls didn't because they didn't have the guts to go against someone who was of higher status. They were there for money, but Y/n wasn't. Y/n matter factly couldn't care less about who Jennie was and her money.

Jennie was a loser in her opinion.

"Then what did I say?" Jennie gritted out and tried to stall Y/n's hips and she let go of her throat, the brunette's fingertips digging into her plump ass.

"Don't go, call and cancel," Y/n repeated and grabbed Jennie's hands, prying them away from her ass. The only time she had some sort of strength or control was when Jennie was at the edge and unable to use her strength right. She pulled them away from herself so the woman under her wouldn't be able to stop her and pinned them down above her head, watching how her chest heaved much quicker.

"It wasn't meant as an order, must've been my tone." Jennie's hooded eyes caught Y/n's, glancing at her plump lips that held a haughty smirk.

"Sure." She said in a whisper, not caring since it wasn't her embarrassment, but Jennie's because she knew what she had heard. Somehow she had learned what ticked Jennie off who was holding back whimpers and whines at the moment. She had her in a moment of weakness because Jennie was about to cum which she wanted to do but not in her underwear.

"Asking you to stay is not a big deal." Y/n hummed at that and Jennie's brows furrowed, lips parting to speak only to close as she shakily inhaled, feeling that knot tightening in her stomach before it would at last snap. 

"You're just sensitive. I was trying to have you stay to spend the day or go to a party that will be better than wherever you are going. I was trying to be nice and you twisted it and made me look bad." She only let the woman blabber on desperately as she was going out of her way to explain herself even if Y/n had dropped it. She only hummed once again as she knew that Jennie was going out of her way because she had heard it all right.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum—get off." Jennie groaned and tried to get her hands out of Y/n's grip. It was a weak try because the knot was getting overwhelming after she hadn't had any release for a good week which was when she last saw the girl on top of her. Her breathing grew deeper and harsher as she could feel it throbbing down her cock that hardened even more and her balls tightened. All her strength going on trying to hold back instead of trying to get out of Y/n's hold.

"Isn't that what you wanted though?" Y/n mocked and bit her lower lip, managing to wrap her slender fingers around Jennie's wrists to have her one hand free.

"Not like this." She pushed 

"You want to cum inside?" Jennie pathetically nodded before burying her face in her shoulder and biting down on her hoodie to try and hold back. "Too bad you will never get to," Y/n stated as they always had protection. Her hand reached for Jennie's jaw, grasping it and being met by her dark eyes when she pulled her away from her shoulder. She tried to pull away to hide her face as she was starting to get embarrassed and the last thing she wanted was for Y/n to get even more out of it by having her make these sounds she had never made before until the vixen on top of her let her get a taste of her.

"Y/n–" She didn't get to finish when the said girl moved her hips once more, all the way to her throbbing tip. Y/n's grip tightened on her cheeks to make sure that Jennie would let out all of her pathetic little whimpers and whines when she came since she always muffled them. Jennie's head went blank as the sounds flew out of her mouth, whimpering as her hips bucked with each spurt of cum into her underwear that grew warm and sticky. Her back arched and she convulsed, Y/n slowing down and removing some pressure. Jennie whined at how she came in a way that made her whole body numb and more cum leak out when she bucked once again into the girl.

"It's so funny how you try to come off all superior, but then whimper like a little bitch and cum in your underwear like a teenager...Is it some kind of complex?" Y/n continued to mock, watching how Jennie panted for air under her and the vixen lifted herself, glancing down to see a big stain that had formed on the grey material. 

"You're a fucking bitch." Jennie gritted out, still out of breath as she struggled her wrists out of Y/n's grip with ease. She grabbed her hips and harshly pushed her off of herself before sitting up. She cringed at the big load she had blown and the stain it caused. It pissed her off as she looked at Y/n with her eyes hard. Never had she let any other girls take it so far or have her humiliated in this way, but it happened all the time with the girl who had her dick under some spell. Over her dead body would anything like this happen, but here she was all alive and it was happening every time with Y/n.

"Not my fault you came as if you haven't had sex in years." Y/n shrugged as she hadn't expected Jennie to release so much from just some simple dry humping. 

Jennie grumbled under her breath, making Y/n hum in confusion as she leaned back against her headboard.

"Cause, I haven't had sex in a week, you fucking whore."

"So sweet." Y/n continued and counted the days before she frowned. "Wait– you're telling me the last time you had sex was at the hotel?" This time she questioned as the two had run into each other and Jennie booked a room for the night–Y/n excusing herself and saying she was staying over at Lisa's place when Asher asked. She knew that if he had called Lisa she would've covered for her.

"What about it?" Jennie asked and took out her phone, wallet, and car keys before tossing them onto the side table. The frown did not leave her eyebrows, the mess uncomfortable.

"Nothing, I just assumed since you've been to so many events and stuff during the week that you managed to see someone else." She looked at Y/n, wondering if she truly didn't care whether she saw someone else or not.  

Jennie wasn't going to tell her the truth.

"I haven't had time, so I would appreciate it if we could at least go at it once." This time she asked with her nicest voice. Y/n tilted her head as she looked at the mess she created in Jennie's sweats–she would lie if she said that she wasn't wet and her clit wasn't throbbing. It was especially hot after seeing Jennie be the mess she was while also being back to calling her these names and manhandling her. 

TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @xszn @badasgff @badaspookie @hwm1hyun / taglist is open

[corazondebeskar-reads]

no one could save me but you

dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 2 - solitary confinement | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 1.9k

summary: You're under the care of Dr. Miller at an inpatient mental health facility. He has a vested interest in your "recovery."

warnings: dark, dark!Joel, dark!pyschologist!Joel, unethical healthcare practices, bad representation of mental health facilities, medical malpractice, corruption kink, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, manipulation, past suicide attempt, sexual abuse, abandonment trauma, inappropriate touching, non-con, abuse of power, look it's a fucked up mental hospital fic—if any of that is potentially triggering skip this one, dead dove do not eat

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the handsome doctor with the kind brown eyes tells your mother. 

Miller, she thinks he’s called. Maybe Josh? John? A good Biblical name; she knows that much. 

“She can’t have visitors. It’s like I said on the phone. She’s a danger to herself and others,” he says, brows knit and a frown turning his pink lips. 

“Won’t she get worse being all alone?” Your mother pleads. 

“I promise you she is rarely alone. It’s just that we can only have trained staff with proper safety precautions around her right now. We’ll call as soon as that changes.” Or as soon as he’s bored of you. 

At the end of the night, Dr. Miller enters your room and your hopeful look wilts before it really even has a chance to bloom. 

“Again?” you whisper. 

He squats down next to where you’re sitting on the floor. “Sorry, sweetheart. I called a few times, but no one picked up.”

This is the sixth weekend in a row that no one has bothered to visit you. And it was really starting to wear you down. 

Enough that your little tantrum had you stuck in this stupid room all alone. Now they give you extra pills, and you succumb, numb and dumb in this soft little world, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re so lonely.

Except at eight pm. You can always count on Dr. Miller to stop by and check in before lights out.

You look up at him with sweet sadness dripping from your eyes, which you wipe on the back of your sleeve. “Thanks anyway,” you say. 

“You been good today?” he asks, reaching over to neaten your sweatshirt where it’s slid down your shoulder. 

“Yes, Doctor.”

He smiles. “Good girl. I know you can get through this,” he says, and it warms you, maybe too much.

You bite your lip and look down. 

“What is it, sweetheart?”

You debate fessing up, but he’s been nothing but kind and gentle with you, and the haze you can’t seem to shake makes you bask in the warmth of his attention. Plus, he said you should tell him if anything changes with your mind or body, in case you react badly to the meds.

“I think something’s wrong with me,” you mumble. 

“Why’s that?”

“It… it makes me feel funny when you say that.”

“When I say what? When I call you a good girl?”

You flush and stare at the plain, endless white of the room. But you nod. 

“Supposed to make you feel good, honey. You’re bein’ a real good girl. Might even be able to start takin’ you outside sometimes.”

“No,” you whisper, voice harsh with shame. “A different kind of feeling. Like a real one.”

“All feelings are real. You mean like a physical one?”

You nod.

“Oh, that’s normal. You feel hot and kind of tingly?”

“Yes, Doctor Miller.”

He beams. “That’s great. That’s huge progress, sweetheart. ”

Sometimes, he can’t believe his luck. A pretty little thing like you nearly kills herself to get out of a betrothal made by zealot parents and falls right into his lap. Well, not literally. Not yet, anyway. 

He’s still building the doctor-patient rapport, so to say. 

You’re so confused; it’s making you a little dizzy. “I think I need to lie down,” you tell him. 

He stands up and offers his hand, which you take, but it’s a mistake. His skin is hot and a little dry, the coarseness brushing against your own. His fingers wrap tight around your hand to pull you to your feet, and you realize no one has touched you in three months. Not in any way. No handshakes, no high fives, no hugs. 

Your lip quivers. You think you’d be embarrassed if that was a feeling you were capable of right now.

“C’mon, let’s get you comfortable,” he says. He doesn’t let go of your hand even though the bed is just a few steps away. 

When you’re settled and have pulled the blanket up to your chest, he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Now, I don’t want you worryin’ yourself about that feeling. It’s supposed to happen, sweetheart. And feeling it means you’re feelin’ something, which is what we’re workin’ towards, right?”

“Yes, Doctor,” you whisper.

“If it’s really botherin’ ya, I can teach you how to make it go away. Or I can teach ya how to make it better.”

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and he’s hard as a fuckin’ rock. He takes your hand again, rubbing his thumb back and forth. 

“Are you—do you mean—” you stammer, panic rising. “I’m not—”

“I know, sweetheart, but I think that’s part of the problem.” He hasn’t yet gotten you to eschew your parents’ programming, not that your mother knows he’s trying to, but he’ll break you of it one way or another.

“It ain’t bad to feel that way. It’s natural. But I think you’ve felt this way before, hmm?”

You nod, looking at the white knit blanket where your hand lays in his. 

“Wanna know what else I think?” he whispers conspiratorially. 

You look up at him, biting your lip. 

He takes it for permission. “You were so scared of gettin’ married because you were afraid he’d know you liked it.”

You shrink under his analysis. This is wrong, wrong; you should not be having this conversation at all, let alone with a strange man. But… he isn’t strange, not really. He’s your doctor. If you can’t trust him, who can you trust?

“So how do you fix me?” you ask.

“A lot like this. Talkin’, like we always do. Could try some exposure therapy, get you used to your own feelings. If you’re okay with it, we could try a little right now.” 

“What?” 

“We’ll start real slow, like how we eased you into group.” Come to think of it, he’s pretty sure you’ll have relapsed a little after this long in solitary. Well, nothin’ he can’t fix again. “But today’d just be me seein’ where your comfort levels are at so we know how to move forward.”

It makes sense, you think. It makes your stomach feel like a washing machine, but in theory, it sounds reasonable. He knows what he’s doing, after all. “Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay. You want me to get gloves on, or are you okay with my skin touchin’ yours?” He’s slowly peeling the blanket back.

“S’fine,” you say, fists clenching the sheets as you try not to seize onto your dignity. 

He scoots back on the bed. “Just gonna lift up your gown, okay? Nice, deep breaths like we practiced.” 

You focus on a spot on the wall just past his shoulder and inhale slowly through your nose, exhaling in a huff from your mouth. 

He’s drawn the gown up and nudged your legs apart a little. “Slower, sweetheart, take it nice and easy.”

His hand moves between your legs and you flinch, almost snapping your knees shut. His other hand rubs up and down on your calf. “S’alright, you’re okay. I’m not going to go inside just yet, okay? Just want you to see what it’s like to have a hand close.”

He gently, but firmly, cups your mound, and you suck in a breath, jerking in place. 

“That okay?”

You have to take a few more deep breaths and think about it, feeling the weight of his palm against part of you that no one’s ever known. “It’s, um. It’s nice. Warm.” 

“Just keep breathin’ nice and slow for me, okay?” 

He’s looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes, the ones that have made you feel seen and heard for the three months that you’ve been here. The ones that got cold and empty when you told him how the hospital had treated you, how your parents had reacted. 

What your fiance had said when he found out. 

The ones that were warm and clever, little crows’ feet at the corners and a pinch between his brow as he studied you. 

And you relax a little, taking a slow breath that filled you to the brim, letting it wash away as his hand began to rub wide circles between your legs. 

“That’s it, honey, you’re doing great. Well beyond my anticipation, actually.” Well, his expectation. His anticipation was a whole different metric that had his heart pounding. 

“Let’s slide your panties down and see how you react to skin contact, okay? Same thing, just without clothes in the way.”

You bite your lip but nod, wide eyes watching as his thick thumbs hook into either side and tug. You raise your hips a little, allowing him to dispose of the white cotton with ease. 

“Doin’ so well for me. Such a good girl,” he murmurs, stroking one finger up and down the seam of your cunt. 

You whimper, so he stills.

“S’matter?”

“N-nothing,” you say. “Just… it’s so intense.” 

“Want me to get you used to that or do we need to stop for today?”

“No!” you cover your face. “I mean. No, it’s okay, I’m okay.”

It’s good that you’re hiding, because you miss the flash of a smirk. He resumes his gentle stroking as your breath goes ragged.

“Doctor Miller, I feel weird,” you mumble. 

“Yeah? You feel it right here?” his other hand traces fingertips over your pelvis. 

“Uh-huh. It’s… it’s so much. I don’t know,” you choke off a gasp as the tip of his finger nudges open your labia, just the width of a breath, but it makes you dizzy.

You clutch at your temple. “Is this because I’m crazy? B-because my head’s so messed up?” Everything feels like it’s spinning. 

“No, sweet girl. It’s supposed to feel like this. You’re supposed to feel good.” 

“I-I-I—” but you can’t get it out, the last syllable reaching a squeak as he traces just inside your lips. 

He pulls away. “Alright, you’ve pushed through enough for today. You did so well, honey. Tomorrow, I’ll show you somethin’ real good, okay? It should help ya, clear your head a bit.” 

You whine as he stands up. “Doctor, please, I feel… it hurts.”

“I’m sorry. It’ll fade in a moment. You’re not ready, darlin’. Remember how hard it was the first time you went out to the rec room? And it didn’t feel good after?”

You nod. 

“It’s kinda like that. You gotta acclimate. Don’t worry. I’ll help you every step of the way.”

“Doctor,” you start hesitantly. 

“Yeah?”

“When can I get out?”

“Like outta the hospital or outta this room?”

“This room,” you say, lip quivering. You’re so, so lonely, and you know he’s about to go home for the night and leave you here with no one, nothing.

He sighs. “It’s not fully up to me.”

“But you-you said I’ve been so good,” you say, tears welling.

“Don’t cry, honey. You’ll get out, it’s just… ya gotta keep showing me you’re gonna be good, okay? Ya scared some ‘a the others.”

“I didn’t mean to, I won’t do it again,” you say, unable to stop the burning tears from spilling over. You hadn’t. All you had done was throw one book across the rec room at the end of visiting hours, unable to hold back the heartbreak of being left alone again. 

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll see what I can do. Be good, now,” he says, jacket rippling a little as he sweeps out of the door. The lock clunks, and you lay back, lost in his overwhelming wake.

*title from "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak

[roosterforme]

I Would Never Hurt You | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley saw the bruises and knew what was going on, but he also knew you didn't need him the way he needed you.

Warnings: Angst and maybe a bit of fluff (TW: physical abuse and fighting)

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check my profile for my masterlist

You had to be ten years younger than him. Your body was elegant, and your voice was always a little melodic as you set down his drinks and said, "Just for you, Rooster," with a little smile for him. 

You were Bradley's favorite thing about the Hard Deck. Sure, it was fun to play pool and mess around with his friends, but you were the highlight. Your smile was flawless, lips so perfect, he thought about them when he was at home, alone. 

But you carried yourself with a bit of caution. You seemed to have the soul of someone who was a little bit used to the world knocking them down a peg no matter how hard they fought. 

Someone he could easily relate to.

"Almost last call," you told him where he sat at the bar. "You're never here this late, Rooster."

Of course you were correct. His friends had already left, and he was usually in bed by this time of night, but he'd had just the right amount of Jack Daniels tonight, so he easily convinced himself it was okay to stay. Stay and watch you work. 

He tipped his glass against his lips, finishing the last of his drink. "Yeah, well... it's the weekend. I can always sleep in tomorrow."

You laughed as you stacked up some clean glassware. "Something tells me that with a call sign like Rooster, you probably don't sleep in too often."

He would with you. He could imagine it so clearly, holding you against his body and keeping you warm. Pulling you back deeper into his bed every time you tried to get up. Kissing you until you agreed to stay with him all night. 

"I'd stay in bed if there was a good reason to," he told you softly, and he knew he was blushing. 

Your grin was something he loved to see. Making you smirk and smile was a game. "I'm sure you could find a good reason if you really wanted one. The ladies around here sure do love you guys."

He was too old for you. Too old and too broken. You were young enough that you could find someone who could take care of you. Someone who wasn't jaded. 

Bradley looked to his left and saw a much older woman a few stools down. "On that note, I think I'm fine alone, getting up early."

Your bright laughter made his smile grow. "Hey, she might be very young at heart," you whispered to him, leaning against the bartop. Bradley leaned a bit closer to you as well. "Any chance you'd walk me to my car?"

Bradley looked at those pretty lips up close, forcing himself to keep his hands on his glass rather than reach for the loose strands of your hair. "I'm always available for that."

"Thanks," you whispered, leaning in closer to him before pushing back to say goodnight to Jimmy and grab your stuff. He watched you slip on your sweatshirt while he left a hefty tip for you and Jimmy to split. And when you walked around the bar and came to a stop next to Bradley, the backs of your fingers rubbed his. 

He'd done this a few times before, walked you out to your little, white car and made sure it started up for you. He would do it as many times as you asked him to, certain he'd hate the day he saw you ask someone else. And as you pulled out and thanked him through the car window, he decided he wanted to make sure you didn't ask someone else. 

Bradley would ask you out on a date. You might say no. There was a pretty good chance you would say no. But he would get over it. He already had it in his mind that you'd never be his.

------------------------------

Days went by with no sign of you. Bradley saw every other bartender, and had them pour his drinks, but you weren't around. Finally he asked Jimmy where you'd been.

"She's been working earlier shifts all week. Something about needing a few nights off. Her boyfriend stopped in earlier to pick her up just before you got here."

Bradley's blood froze in his veins. "She has a boyfriend?" You had only been friendly to him. You'd never had the slightest interest. He really needed to remember that. 

"Just started up again with her ex, apparently," Jimmy said with a shrug before moving down the bar.

An ex. Bradley paid his tab and went home.  

He had almost gotten used to not seeing you around, because when he arrived at the Hard Deck on Saturday night and saw you behind the bar, his heart skipped around in his chest. "Rooster! Hi!" you greeted him, leaning across the bar to get closer to him. "Jack and Coke?"

Bradley nodded slightly. You were wearing a lot of makeup tonight. You still looked beautiful, but Bradley could tell that your cheek was bruised and a little swollen. His fists clenched, and his throat tightened. But body seemed to understand what was going on before his brain worked it out. 

"Are you okay?" he asked you softly when you set his drink down in front of him. Your eyes were unguarded as they met his, and Bradley openly studied your face. "You can tell me if you're not."

And that's all it took for you to drop your guard back in place. Now you were showing him the face you saved for everybody else. "I'm fine, Rooster," you said with a smile. "It's good to see you."

Bradley just nodded and took his drink to the pool table. But his thoughts remained on you, even when he forced himself not to look toward the bar. You got back with your ex, and now Bradley didn't just dislike the guy, he hated him. Because if there was a chance you were with someone else who was sweet to you, Bradley would have admitted that was a good thing. But now he felt like he wanted to protect you, and there was no way you were ever going to let him.

-------------------------

"Just for you, Rooster," you said, setting down his drink with a smirk. Your face looked better now, a week later, but Bradley reached out and grabbed your hand before you could walk away. Your gaze snapped up to look at him. 

"You're okay?" he asked, pressing your palm against the bar top and resting his hand over yours. It felt so good to touch you, he was going to think about this when he thought about your lips. 

You swallowed hard and nodded, but you didn't move your hand or try to pull away. "Yeah."

He wanted to believe you. "I don't think you need to put up with anybody's shit," he told you, running his thumb along your knuckles before releasing your hand. But you didn't move right away.

"You're sweet," you whispered before you got back to work.

When you asked Bradley to walk you to your car, he made sure it started before leaning down to your open window. "I don't want to see bruises on your pretty face again."

"Rooster," you whispered. He was weak. He wanted to kiss you. He almost went for it, but you shifted your car into reverse and left without looking at him again. 

---------------------------

You looked happy. It had been a few weeks since he noticed the bruises. Maybe you'd broken up with him again. Or maybe he started to recognize that he needed to treat you right. Either way, your smile made him smile too. 

"Rooster," you sang, handing him his first drink of the night. "Let me know when you need another." 

He drank it quickly, wanting to get back to the bar to talk to you again. He did realize how ridiculous that made him, but he couldn't be bothered with caring. 

"I'll take a beer for Phoenix, too," he told you after a while. The bar was busy now, so he had to wait a minute while you mixed another cocktail. He didn't mind. He liked watching you work. Your lips were pursed in concentration, and he couldn't have looked away if he tried.  

But when you set his drink down, his curiosity got the best of him. He leaned closer to you, and you leaned in as well. "Did you dump him?" he asked you, just loud enough to be heard over the music. Less than twelve inches separated your face and his, and he watched you weighing your response. 

"Hey!" called a voice from behind Bradley. Your eyes went wide and you backed away, so Bradley turned to see who was there.

"Mark! Hi!" you said, and Bradley had to watch Mark lean across the bar and kiss your cheek. The same perfect cheek he had bruised. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to check on my girl," Mark told you, and Bradley had to fight for control of his hands. Mark eyed him up, and Bradley got the terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had just made your life harder. Mark must have seen how closely you and he were talking. 

But none of that really mattered, because you looked scared. You looked apprehensive the entire time Mark was there. Bradley could handle the looks Mark was giving him, but he couldn't handle the way he was looking at you. 

"See you later," Mark eventually told you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Like a warning. 

As soon as he was gone, Bradley made eye contact with you again. "You need to break up with him."

You licked your lips and tried to look anywhere but Bradley's face. But nobody was waiting for a drink. Nobody else was there to distract you.

"I tried," you whispered, slowly raising your gaze to meet his. "I tried. Usually he's not so bad, you know? But I tried to leave him again, and he won't let me." 

Bradley clenched and unclenched his fists on the bar. Your eyes tracked the movement, and he forced himself to be still, so as not to startle you any further. "He doesn't get to touch you like that. Nobody does," Bradley told you, and the look of open longing on your face was new to him.

"You're sweet," you told him again, turning toward the other end of the bar.

---------------------------

Bradley got to the bar early. He hadn't seen you in about a week again, and he was worried. He wanted to know that you were okay. He wanted to hear you lie to him. 

When he was shooting pool, he saw you walk in for your shift, and he smiled, knowing you'd be the one to make his next drink for him. He waited to hear the words, "Get us a round, Rooster!" fall from Nat's lips, and he was off toward the bar in a flash. 

Your back was to him, so he said your name. Bradley's heart leapt as you glanced over your shoulder at him. "I'll take a round."

You nodded, but didn't fully face him. Bradley felt nervous as you got the drinks ready, and by the time you brought them to him and showed him your face, he was raging mad. 

"No," he whispered, but you refused to meet his eyes. Your bottom lip was split. Your perfect lip. "He did that?"

You gave no indication that you could even hear Bradley as you went about your tasks. He let you go, but he didn't move to take the drinks to his friends. He would wait you out. 

Finally you looked at him. "Yeah, Rooster. He did. He saw me talking to you, said I was a little too close to another guy for his liking. And then he hit me." 

Bradley watched the tears well in your eyes before you set down the glass in your hand and made a beeline for the bathroom. He knew better than to follow, no matter how much he was aching to take care of you. 

So he took the drinks to his friends and kept an eye on the door, making sure Mark didn't show up again. But Bradley stayed until closing time. When you didn't ask him to walk you to your car, he offered.

"No," you said, shaking your head. 

"You're scared of him," Bradley said. But you refused to respond. "Give me your keys and stay here. I'll pull your car up to the door."

That did it. You were finally looking at him with that same longing as before. Then you reached into your bag and handed him your car keys. Bradley parked your car right outside, and closed your door for you after you climbed in. When you rolled the window down to thank him with tears in your eyes, Bradley brushed your hair back from your cheek. 

"Don't sell yourself short," was all he said before you drove away.

-----------------------------

Your lip was still a mess the next time Bradley saw you. It was evident you should have had stitches as soon as it was split. Now you were covering the bruising around it with makeup as well as you could, and Bradley wondered what bullshit excuses you were giving for the way you looked. 

He made eye contact with you, and the soft smile on your lips made him ache. When you made him a drink, you lingered a second when you dropped it off. "Just for you, Rooster," you told him. 

Bradley watched you work, and it calmed him down. He watched your elegant movements and the care with which you did everything. You should have had a boyfriend who worshipped you. Bradley ordered another drink and then another, anything to get you closer to him again. 

"You're thirsty tonight," you remarked, dropping off another drink for him, your eyes lingering on his. 

"I really am," he replied, smiling as he memorized the way you looked. You were so pretty, split lip and all. 

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Bradley turned just in time to see Mark reach across the bar and yank on your hand. "What did I tell you last time?" 

He pulled you so hard, it looked like your shoulder was about to be dislocated. Jimmy and all of the patrons turned his way as well, but Mark didn't let you go. Instead he told you to go outside with him. 

"No," Bradley said, standing to his full height. "Let's you and me go outside instead."

Mark laughed, but he let go of you, leaving you wincing and grabbing at your shoulder. 

"Are you okay?" Bradley asked you softly. You nodded and looked like you were going to cry, but you went to stand beside Jimmy, so Bradley figured it was okay to leave you inside. 

"Is she fucking you?" Mark asked Bradley, and he immediately saw red. "She is, isn't she?"

Mark was pretty big, but Bradley was angry enough to derail a train. "Outside," he growled. 

Mark followed him and took a swing as Bradley turned to face him on the patio. Bradley dodged it, immediately wishing he hadn't had three drinks. He went on the defensive, avoiding the erratic punches as best he could. But Bradley took one in the stomach to be able to get his arms around the other guy. But Mark pulled out of Bradley's grasp quickly.

"I knew she was a slut. She even talked about you walking her to her car. Such a dumb bitch."

Bradley punched him in the face and sent him staggering backwards. He was so mad, he could barely control his body, but his voice was calm. "Don't talk about her like that."

Mark laughed, blood dripping from his nose. "She'll keep coming back to me over and over again. All I have to do is wait."

Bradley was ready to swing again as he said, "She's not coming back this time."

Mark paced back and forth, and Bradley considered that maybe taking a few hits would appease this asshole. So he played the part of punching bag, letting Mark land his fist to Bradley's ribs before he threw Mark to the ground.

Mark got up and shook himself off, heading across the parking lot, and shouting, "You want her, old man? You keep her until she comes crawling back to me."

Bradley made sure he left before going back inside. Jimmy seemed to be doing a good job of keeping everyone's attention away from you, wherever you had gone. 

"She's in the back," Nat told him, running her hands over his beat up knuckles and looking him in the eye. "You really care about her."

Bradley just nodded and headed into the Employees Only area. You turned to him, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

"Are you okay?" you asked him, lips trembling. 

"Of course." He was more concerned about you than anything else. "Don't call him. Don't go back to him," Bradley said, running his thumb along your chin, just below your lip. "Please."

"I won't," you promised. 

----------------------------

When he saw you again, you kept your distance more than he would have liked. And slowly that became the new normal. You dropped his drinks off with a small smile and a greeting, but nothing more. You hadn't asked him to walk you to your car. And now Bradley was back to pining in silence. 

But at least you weren't bruised. You weren't covering your face in makeup. So he would take the distance over knowing someone was hurting you. 

Maybe you just needed some space and some time alone. Bradley was pretty certain he'd made his feelings about you clear. So he would wait. He wouldn't say anything. 

"Mission: Get the birthday boy drunk," Phoenix announced on June 27th, much to Bradley's annoyance. He didn't want to be drunk. If he was drunk, he wouldn't be able to focus on you as well. It didn't matter though, because no sooner had Phoenix made her announcement and then you were there, delivering shots to the pool table. 

You handed him the first one with a grin. "Jack Daniels for the birthday boy," you said a little breathlessly, while Bradley examined your lip. It looked a lot better. You'd most certainly have a little scar there, which he would always look for now, but it had healed nicely. 

He realized he was staring. "Thanks," he told you, downing the shot while his friends all cheered. One shot turned into several, and Bradley noticed that Phoenix somehow had you delivering all of them to him by hand. 

He was feeling warm now, and a lot more secure with knowing you were going to be okay. But after he was a little tipsy, he asked you, "Have you seen Mark?" As soon as he asked, he wished he hadn't, because you put on that guarded expression you seemed to give everyone else. "Don't bullshit me."

Your eyes went a little wide and your lips parted. "I wouldn't bullshit you, Rooster. No... I haven't seen him in a few weeks. He was calling and calling so I changed my number."

Bradley felt instant relief wash through him along with the alcohol. "Good. That's what I like to hear, baby. And you'll let me start walking you to your car again? I always love doing that."

"You do?" you asked, looking around to see who was nearby. "Did you just call me baby?"

There was no sense in trying to deny it. He said it, and you heard him. "Yeah."

"Bradley." You never called him that. You always used his call sign. You used everybody's call sign. "Come here."

You backed away from the crowded pool table closer to where the ancient piano sat, and he followed you willingly, an apology already on his lips. But he was having a hard time saying the words. Sure, he was tipsy, but he wasn't sorry. He would just let you reject him once and for all. The clean cut would make things easier.

"Your lip looks better now... looks good. Like it's healing."

"Bradley," you whispered again, holding your empty tray in front of you.

"Your lips always look good. So pretty. Like lips I would kiss."

Bradley watched you toss your tray carelessly onto the piano bench and wrap your arms around his waist. You moved closer and closer until you were gently pressed up against him. His breathing grew ragged as he wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and stroked your scarred lip with his thumb. "I would never hurt you," he whispered. 

You pressed up onto your toes and said, "I know that," before you kissed him with those perfect lips.

Bradley was aware his friends were hollering and freaking out, but he just kept kissing you. But soon you were smiling against his lips and telling him you needed to get back to work.

"I'll let you go after you promise me I can walk you to your car later."

You smiled and kissed him one more time. "You can walk me to my car later. And you can have my phone number too."

Bradley smiled as you walked away, and he parked himself on a barstool right in front of you for the rest of the night, watching your elegant movements while you talked to him.

-----------------------------

Thanks for reading this one, guys. If you're struggling, please don't struggle alone. I'm always available to chat, and there are so many people who care about you. Big thanks to @bradshawsbitch

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[from-the-clouds]

bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much. 

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction. 

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time. 

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.” 

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway. 

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness. 

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit. 

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care. 

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time. 

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way. 

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to. 

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with. 

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast. 

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder. 

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him. 

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway. 

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears. 

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened. 

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen. 

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin. 

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder. 

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen. 

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs. 

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes. 

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t. 

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower. 

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering. 

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks. 

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it. 

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous. 

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet. 

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected. 

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time. 

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally. 

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?” 

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement. 

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him. 

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.” 

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts. 

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him. 

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse. 

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces. 

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating. 

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet. 

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that. 

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing. 

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms. 

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it. 

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again. 

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it. 

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?” 

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.” 

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now. 

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger. 

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now. 

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth. 

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed. 

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all. 

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree. 

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….” 

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top. 

“That’s it, nice and slow.” 

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread. 

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again. 

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him. 

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens. 

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t. 

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows. 

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart. 

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again. 

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange. 

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think. 

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass. 

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks. 

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession. 

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips. 

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you. 

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there. 

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected. 

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel. 

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger. 

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little –  just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose. 

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture. 

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously. 

“Yes, please, please,” 

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often. 

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.” 

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made. 

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life. 

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper. 

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”  

“No.” 

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much. 

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t. 

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. 

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t. 

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had. 

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more. 

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this. 

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you. 

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it. 

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap. 

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’ 

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though. 

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic. 

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response. 

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted. 

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek. 

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.  

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him. 

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head.  Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side. 

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him. 

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?” 

“You do.” 

“So…. I’ll teach you.” 

“....Okay.” 

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around 

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do. 

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. 

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

[whumper-whimsy]

@augusnippets day 16

Humiliation / dehumanization / conditioning

Continuation of Day 15

Self-harm, abusive relationship, unhealthy/toxic behavior, nsfwhump, dubcon, shaming of sex work, domestic violence, drugs mention

(Lmk if I'm missing a tag!!)

°

Whumpee knocked on Whumper's door, trying to dry his tears as he waited. Maybe Whumper would be having a good day. Maybe he would comfort Whumpee.

The door opened, and Whumper looked down at Whumpee for a moment. He scoffed and signaled him in, looking rather amused.

"You look like hell," Whumper murmured, shutting the door as Whumpee made his way to the couch. "Couldn't at least pretty yourself up before coming to see me? And here I was thinking you cared."

Whumper's words bit into Whumpee, and he averted his eyes. "I- I'm not doing good right now, I kind of had a breakdown earlier, and-"

"Over what? What in your pampered little life has gotten you so worked up that you did all that, hm? Run out of cigarettes again?"

Whumpee squeezed his thumb. "Whumper, you know I've been clean six months."

"Oh? So what have you taken up instead, hm? Smoking weed now? Maybe you're selling your body to get your rocks off, huh?"

Whumpee subconsciously grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Whumper, I'm not —"

"Ohhh, don't tell me," Whumper broke out in laughter, grabbing Whumpee's arm. "You're cutting? Really? What are you, a thirteen year-old girl?" He rolled the sleeve back, revealing the barely-scabbing cuts. He ran a finger over them, looking smug. "Christ, what a charity case you are."

"Listen, I–"

"Pfft, that's just pathetic. God, I don't know why I bother wasting time on you." Whumper rolled his eyes, reaching to pull off Whumpee's shirt. "At least you're a good fuck, huh?"

"Can you stop interrupting me?" Whumpee bit back, getting frustrated.

"Oh, could you just shut the fuck up? Jesus Christ." Whumper slipped his t-shirt off, grabbing Whumpee and pulling him to the bedroom. "All you do is talk."

Whumpee bit down on his lip, following Whumper into the bedroom. He sat back on the bed, looking up at Whumper. At least the sex was usually good.

Whumper pulled Whumpee's pants off, looking down at his thighs. "Seriously? Here too?" He mocked Whumpee's cuts, pushing his legs apart as he took his own pants off.

Whumpee said nothing, shame burning his face. He fought back tears, watching Whumper approach.

The taller man reached down and kissed Whumpee in his rough, dominant way. His hand threaded into Whumpee's hair, tugging him into place as Whumper's tongue dominated his mouth.

Whumpee sunk into the kiss, relaxing and wrapping his arms around Whumper's shoulders. He was lowered onto his back as Whumper straddled his hips, pinching at his injured thighs.

Whumpee squirmed, wincing. "S- stop that, it hurts..."

"Well, you obviously like pain if you're willing to do this to yourself."

"I don't like it!"

"Tell me you do." Whumper pushed into Whumpee, stretching him out.

Whumpee cried out, biting his lip, "I don't!"

Whumper smacked Whumpee across the face. "Tell me you do, or I'll hit you harder."

Whumpee pressed his face into Whumper's shoulder, trying to cover up his tears. He clung to Whumper, losing himself in the rhythm of his thrusts. "I like it," he murmured against the man's sweaty neck.

Whumper pulled out his phone, the flash shining in Whumpee's eyes.

"Say it again."

"Whumper—?"

"Again."

"...I like it."

"Good boy," Whumper purred. "I'll save that for later, baby."

Baby.

Whumpee held onto the petname for the rest of the night, glad to have pleased Whumper.