#a new petname just dropped

[some-of-my-thoughts-to-share]

Sooo if I get it right, "rival" is just an euphemism for "lover"

[auragasmics]

HIS PATIENCE IS MY VIRTUE!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ synopsis! with work piling up and stress reaching its boiling point, Nanami needs a break. And when his pretty assistant suggests a trip up to Kyoto for the hot springs, he’s taking the chance to spoil you, love you, and turn his 3-year spout of patience into your virtue!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ pairings! assistant!fem!reader x sex therapist!nanami kento

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ cw! 17.3k, pwp, age gap (reader is 26, nanami is 28), use of petnames, use of alcohol, splashes of fluff, (if you squint), solo play (male), voice kink, features a conversation with gojo satoru, cumshot,, handjob, oral(f.receiving), hand job, p in v, unprotected, sensation play(heavy), biting, doggystyle, prone bone, cowgirl, slow sex, needy!nanami, Nanami has a sir kink, implied aftercare

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! yessss it’s done! 17.3k of filth and it’s all dedicated to my man! thanks to my lovely friend and beta-reader @n3vr-f0und ! this could not have been possible without you! this goes out to all the nanami girlies, i love our man!

tags: @lalunanymph @4-leafed

He’s asleep again.

Through the slivered crack of his office, your eyes dwell upon Nanami’s slumbering form, casted beneath the glowing embers of daylight. He relied on his folded arms for a makeshift pillow, uncaring of the tousled golden strands of hair that lay waste about the top of the waxy oak desk. 

He’s definitely sleeping—and has been for a while.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh, the breath fueled by concern. You could’ve warned him every morning at the start of the workday and every night right before rush hour began, during rush hour, but he never listened.  

For the three years you’ve been under his employment, there was always a single trend that never seems to hint at change: Nanami never knows what exhaustion is until he’s caught in its grasp with heavy eyelids and a slack jaw of yawns. 

And there’s one extra detail you know about Nanami is that he hates working overtime—but does it anyway. 

Originally when you first joined his side, you thought the job of a sex therapist was an easier task than most; he’d have an easy job; listening and finding a solution for others. After just one day of work with him, such a brazen thought was put to rest. Since that day, you’ve rewritten a new script in your mind, one free of judgment and assumption, because in turn, the job of a sex therapist was not easy. 

And for a sex therapist like Nanami who lacked compassion for himself, empathy and compassion for his clients claimed all his time. His days were spent in appointments and his nights were spent in books, nose-deep in pages of delegated knowledge searching for a solution. That was the role Nanami took on, the role of being a compassionate problem solver.

Compassion comes at a price, and his compassion costs him every ounce of his livelihood. Taking on a role that would reap no inherent benefits meant Nanami was always giving from an empty cup, using his blood, sweat, and tears to refill every drop he’d given away. 

He rebukes his efforts, truly. Yet, such innate dislike had never once interfered with his determination. 

It’s written all over his face once he’s done with a meeting, it’s draining work. It drains him of all his physical, emotional, and psychological energy, but he still wears a smile as a mask in time for the next session. 

If eyes can tell a story, then Nanami’s oak brown hues scream out a soliloquy that falls on deaf ears. Inside bleeds out and his story tells of a man who wishes to give up his life for the mundane. To spend his days basking beneath the sun, using the purest white sands as a mattress for his dream life.

Such a shame that the man’s only wish has yet come to pass.

For now, he’s come to terms with it, filling the pit of ever-growing resentment with work. 

It’s exactly why he’d be in and out of meetings with clients, spending late nights on the phone. Some days you even come into work to find him asleep in his office with papers scattered about his desk. 

His philosophy was simple, if he couldn’t enjoy the deepest desire to the fullest, the least he could do was help those struggling with the same reality. 

But as you watch him from the sidelines, a question plaques your mind: when will it end?

It’s redundant, but the question puzzles you every day. It rules over your mind even now as you scan over his sleeping figure. Standing along the door’s trim, you couldn’t help but admire how precious Nanami appears under such temperate conditions. 

Quiet steps deliver you just inches from him, granting you to play the role of a jury to a trial of a self-committed crime. 

Yet, the criminal in question glows beneath the ebbing light, his skin drinking in the rich hues of pink, gold, orange, and purple. His uniform binds him to his crime, his white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his black slacks melding within his leather seat. 

Though he committed a crime, there’s one detail that turns this prisoner into a charmer; and that’s the way he wears sleeps. The heft of his slumber can be narrowed to a point, down to his pursed lips, such pink velvety plush begging for a kiss of life.

Pity stains your heart like ink to a scroll, and it’s bleeding through in a passing heat. No fiber in your being could allow you to leave him alone, not when nothing but four lonesome walls and pestering neighbors await you.  

Pity carries a weight over its residents, and you were no different. It’s because of how heavy pity is that your hand breaks away from your side, reaching out to curl a loose lock of blonde strands around your finger. Even his hair’s soft, lacing around your skin like the finest silk. Now that you've captured a clearer picture of him, you can’t help softening your gaze over Nanami.

Was Nanami always this attractive? Even in his sleep, he possesses skills to lure you into a trance. Such smooth fair skin, a sculpted jaw clenched in sleep, his cheekbones perched high, and the dark rings beneath his eyes add a shameful appeal to him.

Trailing along his form, you’re stuck at how the burly swell of his arms tests his white dress shirt, the cotton fabric choking at the seams. His shirt just barely hides his broad shoulders, carrying the careful cuts of muscle that rise with every breath he takes. 

“If only you would share your stress with me, Nanami,” the words whispered out into the tepid air. 

Your hand falls from his distressed bed of hair, the back of your hand dusting past the fishnet stockings beneath your red cocktail dress. The time’s come to wake him up….and hope that he’s as docile as ever.

A deep breath takes you far, your hand resting along his shoulder. It’s rigid, thick muscles that refuse to conform to your touch. The lump in your throat bloats up and you ease his shoulder to rock beneath your hand.  

 “...Nanami…Nanami, sir…,” you coo, “You’ve gotta wake up. I’m sure this desk isn’t as comfy as your bed.”

A low grumble acts as a response, Nanami shuffling about his makeshift pillow. His hands hide beneath his cheek, his laxed palms curling up into loose fists as he struggles to sit up.

As a courtesy—or more so out of nervousness; you step away from him with your hands behind your back, allowing Nanami to grasp his hazy surroundings alone. 

“Wha…What happened?” He rasps lowly, his words served with sleep’s baritone curl.

“Um...Sir?”

“Huh? Oh, did I fall asleep here again? That’s the third time this–hold on…” Nanami trails off, his raspy voice breaking through the air.

He’s hazy and those clouded hazel hues trickle onto you as he shifts towards you, his black leather chair swiveling under him. 

“Oh…what’re you still doing here? It’s way past the end of your shift, Sweetheart.”

Nanami watches you bite at that delicate lip of yours, supple plush taking on the jagged impressions. That mindless tick melds into a blooming pout, a decoy for the words that toss his groggy mind off guard. 

“Nanami, sir, I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore!” 

He’s dumbfounded, a rare state for him, but only you alone manage to pull Nanami into a place of confusion. A hand of his drifts to the back of his neck, itching at the sparse hairs of his undercut, trying to make sense of your outburst.

“And what exactly am I doing to myself?”

“This!” You point to his body, “This, in fact, is the third time this week you’ve slept in your office. And it’s been at least ten times this month! You’re tired, and you need a real break.”

Gawking is all Nanami can do. It comes at the price of a complete loss for words, but in some strange way, he’s intrigued by your outcry. Him needing a break? Of course, he needed a break, but he’s interested to hear what you perceive to be this “break”.

“A vacation is what you think I need?”

“I know a vacation is what you need…but I can’t force it on you,” you sigh, taking wandering steps that land you into the grand armchair sitting opposite to him.

With you seated before him, Nanami shudders beneath the stress of containing himself. 

Oh, he hates it when you get mad—but loves it all at the same time. It’s a parallel that consumes him, hating how anger sews along your precious features—while relishing it all the same. 

It’s the woe of taking every word you say seriously while admiring those plump lips bearing a firm purse and your finely plucked brows knit a harsh crease into your face.  

 And when you do get upset—whether it be at a client, the printer…or in rare cases, him. And when you get like this at him, he knows that a lecture can’t be too far off.

“Sir, you’ve got to take better care of yourself! You can hide it from the clients, but you can’t hide it from me. But…I think I have a solution!”

“Which is?” He contemplates with a brow quirked.

Resting his chin along the back of his knuckles, Nanami relies on the strength of his propped arm for support as he delves into your mind. 

He knows the expression he’s giving isn’t kind—dull eyes that reek of disinterest. And all the while, maybe it is disinterest because he’s all too aware of what he needs. But your intentions are pure, that much he knows. In the face of pure intentions, who was he to deny your presentation?

You drop your attention to Nanami’s desk, prompting him to follow suit. He studies your manicured finger carefully dragging along the wide calendar laid atop the waxy surface.

“This weekend from Friday to Sunday, you’ll be all free! I know you like to have at least one client a day, but I pushed some days around and managed to—”

“You were planning this…weren’t you?” Nanami hints sharply, his lungs prepping to bore a longing sigh.

To feign innocence, you shrug your shoulders. You hide your motives well, but the small smile around your eyes tells Nanami all he needs to know. 

“No comment, buuut, why not take advantage of this?” 

Out comes that sigh brewing in his chest. “All right…What do you recommend I do with all the magical free time? Pick up a hobby? Start a garden? Tell me, Darling.”

Nanami’s sights carry to your own, his eyes pivoting over your face deep in thought. Something about you working so hard on his behalf brings about a warmth to flutter in Nanami’s chest. As to how he’s been blessed with you is a mystery he thanks the heavens for every day. And you look so cut–

“Got it!” you snap, “Onsen. I think you need an onsen for the entire weekend. The hot water and minerals will do your body, mind, and spirit justice!”

Nanami tilts his head at the thought, “Hmm, the onsen? Like out in Kyoto?” 

“Mhm, I hear those are really nice!”

“Hm, okay then…”

Nanami swiftly dips into his back pocket for his wallet. He flips the thick bundle of leather open, pinching at his card with a single digit and his thumb. 

He places a matte black card in front of you, rattling off the steps to make your wish come true. “Go ahead and book the room and two tickets for the train tomorrow at nine, and—”

“Hold on, hold on! Are you inviting me to come along too?”

Nanami merely shrugs at your sweet naivete, “Naturally. I’m sure you’d want to come along too…unless I’m stepping over a boundary. I never asked if you had prior engagements or even a partner at home. But…if you could join me, I think the break would be good for you too.”

Your hands wave the infamous white flag of surrender, shooting down Nanami’s suggestions with a flustered chuckle, “Oh no no…just me at home! But um…yeah, I’ve never been to one. I’d love to come along. But for tomorrow…I’d have to start planning right away!”

“We could…do it together. I have my laptop right in my bag,” his shoulder nudging towards the side of his desk. “I know it’s last minute, so the least I could do is offer some help.”

Nanami struggles to hide the grin that teases his lips when you agree, taming his excitement with a guttural grunt of his throat. 

Three whole days with you, the pretty assistant he’s been plotting on since the day he hired you.

As rambles fall from your mouth, Nanami’s absorbed into thoughts of you, while supporting your thoughts with nods and gentle hums. He hasn’t been so outward with his growing affection towards you at all, that simply wasn’t his style. 

But has he tried?

Of course, by taking you out to high-class restaurants for lunch and dinner, buying you flowers every week (and blaming it on some client with a crush for you), he’s even found a way to secretly link your account to his so that not a dollar of your hard-earned money would enter the cruel economy. Why if Nanami could go as far as to pay your rent, he’d do it without any questions asked.

And now he has the chance to take you out of the city for three whole days?

Nanami wasn’t sparing a single penny, not when it came to booking that private villa with its own hot spring bath, the best seats on the bullet train, and even planning some excursions to explore Kyoto. 

“…Nanami…Sir?” 

The call of his name brings him back into the present and on your face wearing a giddy grin.

“Mm…so sorry, is everything alright?”

“Yup! We’re all set for this weekend!” you cheer, clapping your hands softly at the confirmation prompt on the laptop on the screen.

“Oh good! Well then, let’s break for tonight! Be at the station by eight-thirty, okay?” Nanami passing on a stern stare to you.

“I got it, but that’s so early!” 

“It’s a two-and-a-half-hour ride, we’ll be getting there right around lunch and with plenty of daylight to spare. Stop complaining and go home…I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nanami huffs out.

His eyes follow you as you lazily pull yourself out of the chair, your hands smoothing down the back of your dress. The steps you take are slow and saucy, leaving Nanami to bite down on his bottom lip. 

Such a tease and you weren’t doing it on purpose. You’re just yourself and that’s exactly what Nanami can’t get enough of.

You turn back to Nanami when you pull the door just enough to slip your body through, your lips curling into a fine smile.

“Have a good night…Sir. See you tomorrow!”

“Have a g-good…Have a good night!” Nanami rushes out, giving you a limp wave before the shutting door leaves him alone with his thoughts.

An exhausted sigh rips out from his chest as he leans back into his chair, his hand racing to palm his face. 

And in between the gaps of his thick fingers, Nanami’s eyes darted down to a familiar but embarrassing scene.

His cock twitching in his pants.

He couldn’t help it, hearing his name matched with the weighty title of sir sent his mind on a rampage. You calling him sir? And it just so happens to sound so melodic rolling off your tongue?

It already wasn’t normal for someone in his position to be head over heels for his assistant—but he was. It wasn’t normal for Nanami to give in to such silly whims—but he’s going to.

Before thinking it over, Nanami’s hand drops from his face and down to his lap, squeezing at the curious curve rising beneath the black fabric of his slacks.

“...maybe just one can’t hurt…right?”

A rhetorical question, he’s already tugging at the tiny zipper, pulling the slip of metal down its jagged path to its post. He switches over to fiddling with his pants button, yanking the thin button through its slit and tugging his pants down his legs with his briefs in tow. 

There’s a risk that some of those sinful moans will evade his resolve; it’s just his luck that his dress shirt’s objecting to the view of everything past his waist.  Yanking the shirt up towards his awaiting mouth, Nanami bites down on the white cotton as hard as he can.

He doesn’t hesitate to envelop his length in a fist, strumming up and down all eight inches of his pudgy tanned girth. It’s been a while but Nanami still knows what gets him going—a couple squeezes, focusing on his sweet spot, tracing that one swollen vein ruched along the heavy underside of his cock, all the turning cogs that bring him to ruin.

As he’s taking the time to swipe at the weeping bellhead, a thought pops into his head that he can’t ignore. 

He can’t help but wonder what would you think of his dick? A sinfully precarious thought, he knows, but that doesn’t mean he can’t think about it nonetheless. 

He’s no stranger to the concept either. Especially when he takes to the bars some evenings, his ears pick up all the talk of drunk girls gossiping about how “pretty” their boyfriends’ dicks are. It’s so vulgar then but now…he’s craving to hear your thoughts more than anything.

What would you have to say about his size, his length, the way his cock sits with a curve that defies gravity? Suddenly, he’s choreographing a scene in his head, picturing you on your knees, patiently waiting for him to rip down his briefs and expose himself to you. 

At the thought, he’s picking up a slow pace. His taut fist lazily drags up his shaft and down to the base, utilizing a deathly grip that sends shivers down his spine. 

Just for this special occasion, he pulls his shirt from his clenched teeth for a moment to curl over his thighs. Through the pucker of his lips, Nanami sends a thick spool of spit to dance over the flushed head of his cock, the soapy pool dribbling down his length. 

His hand meets the trail of spit gradually, his thumb back to swiping along his now glossy underside. 

“Oh fuck…” he hisses, writhing in his seat at the new sensation claiming his being. Just stroking himself was decent but stroking himself when he’s dripping like this makes for a new cadence to be found. 

Why, it’s so much better that he’s eagerly picking up the pace, his fist sent to swivel up and down his endlessly hardening cock, squeezing at the tip whenever he saw fit. 

His eyes risk exiting the scene, fluttering back with the mean strides he weaves. Just to his dismay, a flickering light pairs annoyingly well with the vibrations of a call cursed Nanami’s chance at relief.

He usually isn’t this careless, picking up the phone call without identifying the caller.

“Hello?” He drones into the microphone. 

And it’s just his luck that it’s you.

“Hi, Sir! I had a question…”

Sir. Three letters, a single syllable, and the key to Nanami’s lustful demise. If only you knew the filthy hold that ghastly word held over him.

Just by hearing your sweet voice utter such a word, lawless pangs laid waste to Nanami’s fisted cock in sinful bliss. Was this some form of karmic reward? To hear your voice right before indulging in himself had to be some prize.

He’s forced to bite down the groans in his throat and trade his cries for coherent words. “Wha…What’s wrong, Sweetheart? You just left the office.”

“Oh, I know!” He can hear the pout in your voice, those plump lips pushed out for everyone but him to see. “It’s just that I was thinking…nine is just so early! And our tickets are good for all day. Can weeee leave just a little later?”

Nanami wants to listen to your pleas, he truly does, but he has to deal with something new befalling him: his body’s blatant betrayal.

His hand’s moving on its own, choking the fat girth of his cock all the way up to the tip, viciously squeezing the pink crown into nasty pale hues. Even at a time when he’s meant to be serious, his body’s adamant on milking itself dry. But must he be so slow yet unforgiving to himself like this?

“…Sir? Hello? Did the call drop?”

“No! I’m still here…” Nanami’s sudden outburst breaks the silence.

He pins the phone between his ear and shoulder, relying on his two hands to ease the relentless pit boiling at his core.

He had to find some way to get that sinful title rolling off your tongue again. So what could be brought up to keep your voice purring?

“So…since my suggestion is too early, what do you have in mind…Honey?”

“Glad you asked, Sir!”

One. 

He’s pulling on his cock with a heavy drag, only for all his efforts to be spat out in glossy tears of precum. He’s making a mess of himself, the glassy rivulets trickling down his ghostly knuckles. He’s nowhere near the sacrums of nirvana but the display he’s forced to bear witness to hints at an early arrival. 

“Uh-huh, go on.” he’s mumbling between gritted teeth. He’s losing temperance over his breaths. 

“…and we’d still have plenty of time to explore the town, Sir.”

Two.

Now, Nanami’s getting the best of himself, purposely focusing on the head of his cock in short yet quick pumps. He’s extra keen on how sensitive he is too, pitting his thumb to curve right along the against his sweet spot.

He’s so close, shamefully closer than before. He knows that if he keeps on swiping at his underside like this, he’ll be binded to an explosive fate any minute. 

“I know you like to be punctual but please, Sir?”

Oh…now you’re begging him. That’s three.

The thick gush of white splatters all over Nanami’s heaving stomach, his chiseled abs glistening in a hot, opal tinge. 

Before he can even afford to echo the bliss ripping through his body, Nanami yanks the phone from his ear and presses the microphone against his chest to muffle any pathetic whimpers that slip him by. 

The poor man, fair skin licked by a familiar fleeting heat and flinching in his seat by the cold wash that follows. He can’t remember the last time he’s let go like that, but the splattered canvas he’s reduced himself to tells him exactly what intuition would scream at him. 

He’s just about ready to clean up but something feels…off. There’s just something he can’t put his finger on—

The phone call. 

He panics, rushing to press the phone to his ear.

What was the last time you said? Something about please si—

“H-Hey, hey…you don’t have to beg me. Do me a favor, ‘kay? Just text me what time you want to meet at the station and I’ll be there.”

“Okay! Well then…get home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow…sir.”

Four.

It’s a punch in the gut this time because while he thought he’s been milked dry, Nanami’s eyes shoot apart at a bewildering sight: He’s still cumming.

His twitching cock’s forcing out a timid stream of white that’s dripping down his black slacks and running off onto the floor beneath him. 

Nanami’s husky voice is washed in grief, the desire to cry out against the bliss of overstimulation dances on his tongue—but he has to send you off first.

With as mellow of a tone as he can rally, Nanami sends you his final thoughts.

“You too. Get home safe and see you tomorrow.”

The call ends and Nanami’s seething behind gritted teeth. 

“Fuuuck,” he cursed to himself, his soiled hand still gripped around his twitching length. He wants to move, clean himself up, and get home to prepare for tomorrow, but fatigue’s already batting behind his eyelids. 

Slouching back in his chair, Nanami finally allows his lungs to catch some air, his heaving chest stabilizing at last. 

He’s a mess, the chair’s a mess, and even the floor too, but he isn’t focused on such miniscule details that nothing a good cleaning couldn’t take care of. Fresh off his orgasm, Nanami’s back to thinking about you and the weekend ahead. 

The gears in his head are clicking and he’s thinking that maybe—just maybe, he’s earned the opportunity of a lifetime to do the one thing that’s been on his list for the last three years: to make you his girlfriend.

He can’t take it anymore, being in the office acting like he’s so standoffish when he truly wants nothing more than your presence. Your smile starts his day, your care for his well-being motivates him, and your kind words fill his heart in ways he can’t even describe.

He hasn’t regarded you as his assistant these past three years, more like his girlfriend who isn’t aware of his full-fledged commitment.

It’s so pathetic, he knows. But thanks to you, finally…Nanami’s goal was within reach. All he had to do was chase it. 

Nanami’s sentiments only grew during the night and into the next day: Friday, the day he’s set to journey off with you. 

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞

It’s been a blur since Nanami’s woke up—he’s been busy packing, cleaning his apartment, and standing in front of the mirror deciding which suit he should don for the day.

 As the clock struck two, bags gathered by the door and a plain black suit with a white button-down dresses his body. He’s forgoing a tie for the weekend too, a few undone buttons present the dips of his collarbone prepared to bear the day’s breeze. 

But there’s peril racing through Nanami’s mind, and has been since the previous night: he has no clue how to act or even go about courting you into being his girlfriend by the end of the hot springs trip. All he knows up to this point is subtlety—and subtlety is not an option in his arsenal. 

The field of romance is a realm he’s barely pillaged through except for a few flings that led to nothing. You’re too different for his typical approach. He needs his message to come out clearer than glass, and for those kinds of results—he’s turning to one…annoying person for advice.

As Nanami reaches into his pocket, he can taste regret staining his tongue. And as he’s clicking onto that damned contact, he’s cursing himself for even thinking of turning to this man for advice.

And when the line connects, he’s kissing his teeth at the sound of his nickname falling from the lips of one…Gojo Satoru.

“Nanamin! You rarely call me these days! I miss you y’know,” the smooth voice trumpets out into his ear. 

Huffing out the last bit of his pride, Nanami sighs into the phone, “Ah well…um, Gojo…I need some…help.”

“With?”

“A woman. My assistant, to be precise. We’re going out of town for the weekend and—”

“Nanami? Going on a trip? I must’ve died. And with a lady? I’m in an alternate universe now,” Gojo teases. “So, what do you need help with, I’m a little lost.”

Nanami drops himself on the edge of his sofa, the taupe leather dipping beneath his weight. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at his tensed skin. 

“She’s my assistant but…Gojo…I really want her to be my girlfriend. I have for the past three years. But my hints are too subtle and this is my best chance to finally be honest with her. I just don’t want to mess up. We’re going out to Kyoto

“Three years? You’ve always been patient, but this is extreme, Nanami. And the hot springs…you planning on—”

“Stop it right there. Just…tell me what you’d do.”

Nanami stares at his phone as the line goes silent, waiting for Gojo to say something—anything, really. 

“Nanami, now I can’t help you too much, I’m not the relationship type. But just think about it like this, if you’ve had your eye on her for three years…and she’s been working with you for three years, obviously there’s something she likes about you too. This is so cliche and I’m cringing at the thought but…be your—”

“No.” Nanami immediately shuts down. 

“Yes, and let me explain. Don’t try to be some guy you’re not, women pick up on that too easily, especially since you guys are going out on this trip. Be yourself and when the time comes, tell her how you’ve felt. And no matter what happens, just be proud that you were honest with yourself, okay?”

“Yeah…that works.”

“Good!” Gojo cheers, “Now go have fun and bring some condoms! You never know what’s—”

“Goodbye, Gojo,” and just like that, Nanami’s thumb isn't hesitant to end the call with a click. 

“Just be myself…” he’s mulling over. While it’s sad to say that Nanami already knew that, he was hoping for something a little more out of Gojo. But himself is all he can be, then that’s exactly how he’ll act. 

Slotting his phone back into his pocket, Nanami catches a glimpse of the time from the face of his watch.

3:00 P.M.

He had just an hour to himself before sitting on a two-hour train with you. But before that reality could be realised, He had a few errands to knock off his list.

The next time Nanami checks his watch, he’s leaning against a white tiled column in Tokyo station. 

And the time is…3:45. 

Those that surround are others caught up in their own lives—teenagers dressed in uniform, businessmen in their suits chasing the next transfer, and families strolling out the exits; all the people and not a single one knew the nerves that ambush his calm mind. 

Not a single one knew of the havoc crashing through his body at the reality he’s set to enter. He did all he could to prepare, yet he can’t comprehend that he’s the last piece to the puzzle. Everything’s in line like dominoes, and all he had to do was strike the porcelain trail down.

And something about that, such ease, nothing about that sits right in Nanami’s mind. 

Until the winning move falls right into his unexpecting lap. 

“Oh! Nanami! Hi, sorry for making you wait! This station is just big, thankfully I just followed my gut and found you here,” the familiar voice rings in his ear.

He looks up to find your starry eyes already set on him from a few paces away. Nanami’s staring at you, hard. He’s never seen you in anything that wasn’t professional wear, that’s the excuse that plays in his mind over and over like a broken record. 

You, in that silk yellow blouse that grants so much cleavage thanks to its low-cut neck. And the pleated light gray skirt around your waist is just so short, just one mishap and it’s all over.

Amidst all his leering, Nanami almost allows himself to forget manners. He meets you just halfway, wearing a soft smirk as he reaches for your bag.

“Here, allow me.”

“Oh! Thank you so much, Sir—"

It’s that damned word again. The letters rolling off your tongue bring a haunting memory from yesterday back into Nanami’s mind. He clenches the leather strap of your carry-on ever so tightly, gradually collecting himself before speaking. 

“Hey Darling, you can drop the ‘sir’, okay? We’re on vacation after all. Nanami works just fine, or even…Kento works, if you want.”

He’s enlightened by the smile you put on your face, the peaks of your cheeks polished beneath the station’s fluorescent lights. 

“Oh, sorry about that! ‘m just so used to the honorifics. But…alright then, Nanami. Is my bag too heavy for you?”

“No, no, it’s really not heavy at all. But we should get to the platform, though,” Nanami tokens with his head towards the destined path. “Are you ready?”

A kind smile grew across your glistening lips as you leaned towards Nanami, your hands softly clapping with approval. “Lead the way then, I’m right here.”

And Nanami does just that. He spins right on the heel of his shoe and walks with occupied hands, a tepid stare of his path ahead, his mind swirling with thoughts of you, and you at his side. 

The station’s loud, loud with chatter, giggles, running feet, and warbling notifications on the intercom, and as all this goes on around him, Nanami can’t help but be absorbed into his own world. A world that included you. 

Every so often, he steals a glance at you, his wistful eye watching you marvel at the station’s lively atmosphere. But all he can think about in his world is you; you and your beauty. He’s enamored at your mindless antics, the way your lashes flutter with each blink, the way your lips twist up–he’s even stuck over. But looking at you wasn’t enough, not when there’s this wall between you two. 

It’s invisible to everyone but him. It’s one that he can look over, one that he can easily topple over with a sigh, but it’s one that he can’t fathom to crack without a proper plan.

The wall of silence—Nanami’s greatest ally turned enemy. 

He isn’t used to this: sharing his intimate time like this. If he’s not holed up in his office, he’s out on his own tending to errands or matters of business. His usual standoffish method stands no chance today if he aims to woo you.

So, he went to the first thing you both had in common for the moment: emotion. 

“So…” Nanami begins as he scours his mind for the words. “Are you…excited?” 

You extend a kind look to him, soft eyes that pair well with your smile. “Of course I am! I’ve never been to a hot spring before, but I’ve heard so much about them and how good they’re supposed to be. I can’t wait for that hot water to hit my skin! How about you, Nanami?” 

“Me?” He echoes with an arched brow. “Well…guess I’m excited too. Breaks are something I always want to take, but I never seem to act on them. The second I give it some thought, I’m already calculating missed opportunities and risks. I appreciate you pushing for this, Honey. Just make sure you have fun for me, okay?”

“For you?” Maybe you weren’t supposed to catch that slip-up, but being with Nanami like this was already fulfilling you beyond words. For him to be walking beside you, holding your luggage like it's nothing but a feather, it’s all too much for your mind to contain. 

Moving dates around to have the weekend available worked in your favor. Three whole days tucked up beside Nanami, waking up with him, exploring Kyoto together, and even bathing together clouds your imagination with sinful thoughts. 

He hides the full extent of his figure beneath suffocating suits, but you know all too well that Nanami’s physique is on par with the gods themselves. With his arms, back, and thighs banded with muscle, his developed chest taut with contour, and his big hands teeming with veins, your eyes were ready for it all. 

And if the weekend ends with you bent over to help relieve all the pent-up stress he talks about in sessions, it would all be for a promising cause.

“Aww, Nanami…then let’s have fun together. But if I–Oh look, here we are! And the train’s boarding too, should we board? Looks like we’ll have to look for seats too,” your voice carrying a dull sigh.

“It’s fine, I think I can see two seats right there,” Nanami directs with a tilt of his chin. 

He leads the way once more, urging you to board the train in front of him. The seats he took note of. You slip inside first, taking the window seat just as Nanami saw in his head.

Before he could join you, Nanami marks his spot with a small white plastic bag on his seat before loading the suitcases into the overhead bin and grabbing it again before sitting beside you.

Tugging the bag open, he reveals two sandwiches inside.  “Oh, I stopped by the bakery on my way here and grabbed sandwiches. I um…I noticed what you like on yours, so…here you are.”

Trying to still his trembling grip, Nanami carefully places the tightly bundled sandwich into your awaiting hands. 

“Aw, thank you so much! You really didn’t have to! I was just gonna wait until we got to Kyoto to eat!”

The smile that consumes your face is contagious, prompting Nanami to hide his own grin behind a clamped hand. 

“It’s a long ride and I have a feeling you might have missed breakfast, so…hope you like it, Sweetheart.”

Nanami’s hope of gawking at you is cut short when you catch his leering sights. 

The heat of embarrassment crackles beneath his skin, something he knows he can’t hide from you. 

Rather, he adjusts himself, pushing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose with an excuse fumbling out from his lips. 

“Sorry. I was just, uh–”

“Y’know, I was wondering,” you swiftly suggest a new subject, “…what do you look like without your glasses?”

Quirking up a brow, Nanami finds himself turning towards you amidst the cloud of blush claiming his cheeks. “Curious?”

“Very. But if they’re prescription, then please just ignore–”

“They’re not. They’ll more like sunglasses, but here, I have nothing to hide.”

At your implied request, Nanami’s glasses sit squeezed between his grip as he pulls them off his face. He’s met with your awestruck face—widened eyes and gaping lips.

“Scary, huh? I bet I look…uh…Sweetheart?”

“Nanami…you look so…different?”

“Is that a good thing?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “I’m gonna sound old here but you look so handsome! And your eyes, they’re like brown with a dash of green?! That’s so pretty!”

He’s handsome??? That’s a word Nanami never expected to hear fall from your lips. And you’re keeping those doe eyes pinned on him and only him too.  Now how is he going to play this off? Hide his entire face behind his palm? Or maybe he should get up altogether and try to calm down…

“Oh…thank you, Darling. Um…I’m gonna go use the bathroom, alright? Be right back.”

Nanami doesn’t get the chance to hear you reply, not when he’s dead-set on returning to you. Just his luck that the bathroom is at the end of the cabin—and unoccupied.

He nearly throws himself inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Beneath his feet, he can feel the train’s latent drags over the tracks, officially beginning the long ride to Kyoto. 

Nanami leans against the white sink, grasping the thick porcelain rim with a bruising grip. He’s met with the slender mirror tucked between the chamber’s corner, and just as he knew it—he’s red. From the tips of his ears down to his cheeks, it’s all pink…and seems to only grow richer. 

That was…pathetic. A few words of kindness—no, a compliment from you about the qualities he already knows about himself places him in this sweating, breathless rut. 

He’s pathetic. If that’s all it took for him to crack, how could he be allowed to think about sleeping in the same bed as you or even bathe with you? This was the place to shake out all those nerves, all those second thoughts haunting his mind, because after this moment, Nanami would no longer be alone. Because at this moment, Nanami is staring at his last moments as a bachelor before he’s married off to the idea of being yours. 

He reaches out for the handle, granting cold water to shoot out of the facet. 

A few chilly splashes contrast the heat and he’s back to staring back at his fair-skinned reflection. 

‘A calm mind keeps a sound body’, that’s the mantra that plays in his head as he tends to his suit, tugging at the sleeve cuffs gently before exiting the bathroom and walking back to his seat. Upon finding you again, he finds you peering out the window of the passing landscape, the city slowly fading out into the countryside’s green pastures. 

He notices your fidgeting fingers, nervously linking around each other. Of course, you felt something and his jetting to the bathroom only made things worse. 

“I’m back,” he utters for your ears to hear. 

Tilting your head back against the black leather, your eyes find Nanami’s, his unfiltered mossy hues falling onto your own.

“Feel better?” Your soft voice greets him. 

Sheepishly, Nanami nods as he drops back into his seat. “Yeah, I just needed a moment.”

You shift closer to Nanami, resting your arms along the armrest between your bodies. “Did I…say something wrong?”

That’s when Nanami’s heart drops straight to the soles of his feet. He’s tossed into a state of sheer panic, raking his mind for some makeshift apology to soothe your worries. So many things he could say, but he’s settled for something he would prefer to hear: the raw and honest truth, no matter how pitiful it may seem. 

A sigh breaks out of Nanami’s chest and into the air. He resorts to squeezing at the bridge of his nose to assemble his mind. “No, no, never that, Honey! It’s just that I’m not used to getting compliments…at all, really. And I get so red, it’s all just embarrassing to me.”

You perch your chin within your open palm, a faint smile gathering on your lips. “That’s so cute, Nanami! Well, since you’re not used to ‘em, I’ll give them to you. Because…you really are handsome…sir.”

Oh, you must be doing this on purpose, pushing all his buttons to get a reaction. He can’t even hide his grin anymore, not that he wants to, you’re getting a rise out of him—and he’s loving every single moment.

He’s loving it so much that he can’t help but join you, levering his neck to give you his attention. He’s doing so with a rare smile, one that leaves the peaks of his cheeks brimmed. 

“Oh, but that’s not your job…that’s mine. How could I have forgotten to tell you just how beautiful you look? Yellow looks really nice against your skin, Sweetheart.”

Nanami catches himself in the moment, how he’s moving closer to your beaming visage. He allows his sights to shift from between your eyes and down to your lips before taking in a harrowing breath. 

There’s only one thought in his mind…this was going to be an interesting ride. 

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ ∞

“C’mon! The villa’s just around the corner!” You point, turning around to gauge Nanami’s awareness. 

“Slow down! I’m right behind you!” he chuckles, tucking the luggage beneath his arms. 

Two and a half hours, that’s all it took for Nanami to break the ice of workplace formality with you. Since his outbreak on the train—and your affirming words; he’s found himself floating on a cloud. 

Now he’s trudging up some stairs behind you all the way up to the villa, secluded from the outside world. 

Since arriving in Kyoto, Nanami’s been taken away by the historic landscape of the area. Lush green trees stand tall amongst bushes and shrubs, and blooming flowers surround the quiet town at every corner.

The only unfortunate fact about the town was that everything closed at six on Fridays, and the train ride got you both here at six thirty. Which meant no nighttime browsing, no dinner, and room service was about to close.

But it’s a fact that Nanami’s willing to dismiss the moment he stood at the villa door with you at his side. 

He’s dipping his hand into his pocket for the key, pressing the gold-plated metal through the slot. “Here we are, go on ahead,” Nanami grins, his hand pushing the door open for you.

“Nanami,” you coo, “You go in first, you’ve been lugging those bags up here.”

“No, it’s fine. You know the saying, Sweetheart, ladies first,” He smirks.

What Nanami didn’t anticipate was how close you were, your body flush against his own. And your eyes, they’re lingering on his own as you slip past him, pulling a breathless gasp from his lungs. 

“Well…if you insist. I’m gonna go shower first then, meet you in the water, Nanami.”

“O-Okay,” he stutters out dumbly, his eyes left to hinge on your disappearing figure. 

There’s another fact that Nanami’s taken note of since the train ride, how casual you’ve become with him so quickly. The fact brought him back to his phone call with Gojo and all that was shared.

It has Nanami mulling over what Gojo said, you already have some kind of feelings toward him. The train ride provided him with enough evidence, but logic tells him not to assume anything further. 

And maybe you did feel the same way about him that he’s felt about you for the past three years. Tonight he was willing to put all that to the test, and he only hopes the results come out in his favor. 

Dragging the bags inside, Nanami shuts the doors behind him, only to take in the villa with a scanning glare. 

Takami mats replace the hardwood floor he’s become used to, with white walls surrounding him. The living room is quaint, with a black sofa against the wall with two armchairs joining the assembly. Just past the living room is a deck that looks out over the town, with a pool of steaming water just past a few steps. 

“Nanamiiii?” You sing from around the corner, breaking his focus with ease.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” He’s chuckling to himself. God, if his last name sounds this good, how would his first name roll off that tongue of yours?

He walked towards the source of your voice, only for him to be greeted with the scene of you standing in the middle of the hallway with nothing but a towel wrapped around your body. 

To ground himself fast, Nanami clears his throat and keeps his eyes pinned on you. And only your eyes. 

“Is the shower off or something?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. There’s soap, towels, toothbrushes, and toothpaste, the bathroom’s great. I was thinking, should we order something? Maybe some hot sake and snacks? 

“Get whatever you want,” he shrugs, taking a hand through his hair.  I’ll have some too, so don't wait for me. I’m gonna go shower too, so go ahead and soak.”

You give Nanami one of your smiles before walking past him—just in time to give him some words of encouragement. 

“Don’t take too long, it’s gonna get lonely without you.”

Nanami stands in the doorway of the bathroom, taking one more glimpse at you with his head shaking. 

“I won’t.

The next time Nanami gets to see you is after his shower, a brief ten minutes that’s synonymous with an eternity. He leaves the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, his hair weighted by water and his mind running on mischievous fumes. 

Finally, he has you all alone with no outside noise to impede on his slice of heaven. He’s strolling down the hallway with his head held high, exuding the sheer heat of confidence off his slicked skin.

Who knew that the moment he caught a view of you, all his hard work would be swept up under the rug and replaced by naive awe?  

Nanami swears to himself that he’ll look away, but it’s a promise bound to be broken because he simply can’t find elsewhere to rest his sore eyes except on you. You and the gentle curves of your glistening body perched along the ring of rocks compassing the private hot spring. Beside you is a small bowl that floats, holding what he can safely assume to be the hot sake you wanted. 

He doesn’t quite get what’s so amusing about the scene either, but there’s something about observing you participate in the mundane task of peering out over the settling town made Nanami’s cheek swell with a rousing heat.  

A part of him almost doesn’t want to distract you—but his imagination was painting him too many scenes that needed his hand to unfold. 

Biting the innards of his cheek, Nanami gathers what’s left of his ebbing confidence to walk down the deck steps, the wood creaking beneath his every step. 

“How’s the water?” Nanami’s question breaks the silence. 

His voice coaxes you to meet him with a welcoming grin, “It’s so nice! And the sake got here too, it’s not too sweet and it’s still warm, just for you.”

Nanami stands at the pool’s edge, his hand encircling his hidden waist. “Yeah, y’know I’m not even much of a drinker, but I’ll try my hand at it tonight.”

He’s still got your regard, the two of you trapped in a trance until he notices your gaze wavering further along his body. Down his bulging chest bejeweled by water droplets,  the carefully sculpted contours of his abdomen, down to the fluffy white towel hanging around his hips. 

“Well…,” you purr, “Aren’t you coming in, Nanami?”

Slowly, Nanami lowers himself into the steamy bath, his foot settling onto the shallow bottom. The misty water splits around him as Nanami introduces himself. The water comes up no further than his mid-thigh, but the moment he sits down, he’s pulled into an embrace that captures most of his chest.  And yet, he can’t hide the sigh of relief that trumpets out his mouth, his head dropping back between his shoulder blades.

“Oh wow,” he pants, “Feels so good.”

“Right, and with a little sake…” you push the wobbling bowl to swim across the pool towards him, “You’ll feel even better.”

“Really?” Nanami smirks as the sake enters his realm. He’s quick to pour himself a cup, filling the stout ceramic cup to the brim. 

“If you want some more…gotta come a little closer, Sweetheart,” he teases as he brings the rim of the cup to his lips. 

“Guess I could go for a little more,” you give into him with a chuckle, rising from your spot with a hand clipped to the overlapping layers of your towel. 

Slow, sweeping steps cut through the water as Nanami gawks at your bearing silhouette. That pesky towel clings to your body, but all it does is complement your curves—those very curves that sit nuzzled to his side as you sit beside him. 

“How’s this? Close enough?” you press, your head lolling against the rocky edge to face Nanami’s flushed face. 

“I’ll take it,” Nanami snickers as he works himself to pour your cup. “Here, should we make a toast?”

“To what? A vacation?” you question with your cup in hand. 

“Hmm…” Nanami weighs, “To…us. And this long-awaited vacation.”

“To us, then” you cheer as your cup rings against Nanami’s.

He’s back to eyeing you; there’s a grin working onto your lips as you push down the sweet liquor, one that brings a liberating wave to wash over Nanami’s mind. He wishes he could see you like this all time, relaxed and free from the stresses of the world. 

A moment of silence falls over the scene, allowing you and Nanami to simply bask in each other’s presence. The sake’s finally settled in his system too, leaving him with a faint haze over his mind. He places his empty cup back onto the wobbling bowl before shifting towards you, his eyelids resting at half-mast. 

“Y’know, I’m really happy you agreed to come with me, Dollface,” he sighs happily, “ I like seeing you calm like this.”

“I could say the same thing to you, I don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much,” you return fondly. 

“But I’m only smiling this much because of you.”

“Pfft, what did I do?” You push off—but Nanami catches the disbelief in your voice with a squint. 

That’s when Nanami's eyes shoot toward your own. He isn’t playing around either, not with the courage coursing through his veins. Was this the moment he’s been waiting three years for? And if it was, would he ruin it by saying too much? So much doubt, so much second thoughts cloud his mind—but when he opens his mouth to speak, it’s all rooted from the depths of his heart.

“So much. You’ve done so much, all your time and care have never gone unnoticed. A-and…I …have so much I wish to tell you, but…I’ll be honest, I’m nervous.”

“Nanami? It’s okay, I’m right here and I’m here to listen.” You aimed to soothe him, your hand breaking through the water to lay against his chest. 

Oh, how he wishes you wouldn’t have done that. His heart’s already throbbing up to his ears, and with you finally laying a hand on him, he might burst right there. But the tranquil aria of your voice brings Nanami back down into his body and a clear mind. 

He clips his bottom lips between his teeth, using the sharp pain to calm the heartbeat you had complete access to. “Doll, I can’t…I can’t keep this up. I’ve um…always…always wanted to tell you that since the day you walked into my office…I knew I wanted to be yours.”

“But I mean…” There’s the logical churning in Nanami’s brain when he enters a space of realism—where he analyses everything down to the letter without regard for how cold it may roll off his tongue. 

And that includes an analysis of himself.

“And I know, what sane woman would wanna be with a man like me? I don’t express much emotion, I’m too technical and I overwork myself. But I promise to be—”

“Kento?” you interrupt, rapping the tips of your fingers against his chest. 

“Yeah?” He sulks with a frown. 

The hand you keep at his chest creeps up to his inflamed features, that same heat meddling in with your palm as you cup his cheek. A gentle turn pits Nanami to face you head-on, but to ease his rushing mind,  you give him a smile paired with the softest of tones.

“Any sane woman might not, but you’re grouping me in a category that doesn’t suit me. I don’t mind for my man to be a thinker, a hard worker. And if he has some trouble expressing himself, it’s okay. I have patience…just like you do.”

Nanami’s hiking a brow at your remarks, “So…you’ve known this entire time?”

“Known is a strong word. But Nanami, we’ve been working together for the past three years. How could I not fall for you when you treat me so kindly? All those lunch and dinner dates, the random gifts that pop up on my desk. I mean, playing it off on clients is sweet and all but the office doesn’t open until ten and the mailman doesn’t reach us until twelve. Still…the effort was sweet.”

“God, I feel so childish!” Nanami groans as he screws his eyes shut to avert your gaze. “Guess I shouldn’t have been so nervous, huh?”

“Yeah but, think of it like this,” you try to shed some light on his woes. “Three years have passed and we know each other better, down to our habits too. I think we were better off waiting rather than jumping in when we first met.”

“But that only leaves one question…” Nanami whispers to himself. He opens his eyes again and finds you as his refuge. Space isn’t a stranger in his mind, not when he’s barely a few inches away from your visage. When he finally gathers his thoughts, the words spill from Nanami’s lips without another second pass. 

“Will you…be my girlfriend, Angel?”

Nanami can hear you swallow down that lump in your throat.  Nerves, that’s the one thing he did calculate for. He’s throwing a relationship on you, without asking if you were anywhere near ready for the commitment. 

But he’s hoping. Nanami’s hoping and praying to any god that exists that you’ll grant him this one selfish wish. 

“Y’know, if we do this, things can’t go back to how they used to be…ever again.”

“I know,” Nanami hums as he brings his thumb to brush along the crest of your cheek.

“A-And, we’ll have to talk about things moving forward.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“But…what if we’re making a mistake?”

Nanami catches your chin with between his thumb and index finger, compelling you to look up into his eyes. They’re gentle, free of their usual cold stare, and superseded by a blossoming twinkle. He’s capturing you in a trance that’s leaving you breathless; breathless and at Nanami’s every whim. 

“If this is a mistake, then I’ll do anything to prove to you that it’s not. There’s no mistake here, that much I know. Whatever you want, whatever it takes…I’ll do it if it means we can be together.”

A pout pushes out onto your lips, touched by Nanami’s dedication and devotion to you. 

“Okay…but what about right now? This isn’t going to end in only a kiss.” 

“Mmm, call it consummating the relationship,” Nanami suggests under his gravitation beneath tension’s heat towards you. His eyes hang low and pin right onto your lips, hinged at the fated words speaking through the air. 

“Well then…guess I’m all yours, Kento. Yes, I wanna be your girlfriend—”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” That truly is all Nanami needs to hear because he didn’t even grant your monologue its deserved spotlight before his lips are sinking against your own. 

He has half a mind to call it the kiss of life, a weight lifting off his shoulders the moment he delves into his long-awaited bliss. It’s as he’s imagined—no, better than that. The soft plush of your lips entices him, pulling him into a game of chase. You pull back and he’s right there for more, and when you push he’s taking it all with a pathetic whimper seeping from behind his clashing teeth.

It isn’t long before his hands dip back into the water for the treasure he’s calling your hips. Hidden behind that towel, but it’s no match for him when he’s holding you now, so close that not even a drop of water could invade. 

And if Nanami had the strength to find the words, he would. But he’s using every ounce of his strength to fight against the water to have you closer. He’s guiding you right onto his lap, your body smothering against his as you straddle him. 

“Can I…take this towel off?” He quizzes between a breath—and he smirks when you conjure up a feverish nod. 

Like a feather in the wind, Nanami’s using a delicate touch to peel away the wall, his eyes growing at the sight of your bare skin in reach. It’s a reward when he yanks the thick cloth from beneath you and off into the dark abyss behind him. 

And now that Nanami’s finally got his hands on you, no force in the universe could move him. 

You’re so soft in his palms, with skin so supple he’s almost afraid of what his touch could do to you. Even with all those precautions, his faith is an unwavering one. You’re too cute for him to abstain from such bliss, especially with three long years of patience behind his belt. 

He simply has to get his hands on you, all over you until he’s become acquainted with every crease, crevice, and curve your body has to offer.

“Let me give you a quick lesson on something, Baby. I think you’ll like it too,” he hums, pulling away from this kiss.

“Oh?” you entertain, tilting your head at Nanami’s new persona. He’s grinning, his smile so wide that you swear it has to be a figment of your imagination. But the way his hands glide across your skin pulls out a vivid reminder in the form of a helpless whimper. 

 “Go ahead, show me everything you know.”

“Erogenous zones. The places where you get extra sensitive. I wanna see how many I can find. Like…right here.” He tends to your breast first, his vast palms carefully skimming along the delicate skin. He’s cupping your tits in his care, using his girth fingers to knead into the pillowy plush.

“How does that feel, Sweetheart?”

Oh, aren’t you the cutest, pulling back from the steady stream of kisses to watch how intentful Nanami is with his words. The hands you brace onto his shoulder pick up a dangerous grip when his fingers feather at your nipples, pinching the dormant buds awake. 

With this newfound audience, Nanami can’t help but perform now. He’s taken to the valley of your chest, his lips simmering against your skin as he sketches the grounds for his act in fluttering pecks. Bit by bit, he’s planting his path, nipping at your skin until his lips brush against your nipple.  

You pinch at your lip again, praying that it grounds you from what Nanami has in store. “Feel so…so good, Ken,” you whine with setting eyes. 

He doesn’t get his way without hearing your mouth, a delicate chirp that melts into a moan. As your eyes crack open once more, he’s sure to meet you with gentle olive irises. 

“That’s my girl. Too pretty to hide when I’m merely teasing you. I’ve got all night with you, remember?”

That’s as much as a reminder to himself too, he has all night, two days, and the rest of his days to explore you. But already he’s missed out on so much time, so he hopes you’ll excuse him for the rush now.

The rush of his back finally traveling past your tweaked ties and down to l the small of your back, his burly hands dressing your delicate body like a corset. If he remembers from his days back in university, the back is a special place. It’s where your spine can be found, where your curves take shape, but there’s something else here that Nanami can’t quite put his finger on.

Until he does.

His fingers dust right over the divots in your back, those two dimples waiting for attention. He remembers now, the insane levels of sensitivity hidden in plain sight. He doesn’t want to give away his ruse, but for all you know, he’s merely inches away from grabbing onto your ass.

So he does it, delicately allowing a few fingers to slip past the water and sink into the pert plump flesh, leaving only his thumbs to fill out those precious jewels of your lower back. The pads of his thumbs lay teasing strides as a ploy until he’s located those hidden cords of nerves. 

He can’t wait anymore, softly pulsing his thumbs against the dips, solely for his ears to be graced by the prettiest of chords: your heavy gasps drumming into the air.

“This is an overlooked one. Known as the lumbar, but it’s simply your lower back. By using a liiiitle pressure like this—”

“Kennn…h-hold on, that’s so…Ohmy–!” 

That’s the gasp he’s looking for, the satisfaction parading itself somewhere deep inside Nanami. The jolt wrecking through your body only brought you right into his hands and pinned against his chest.  His lips take to your ears for his own bliss, hiding a sadist smirk behind his encouraging words. 

“Now, now, those nasty words don’t suit you, Angel. Can’t you find anything else to say with that pretty mouth of yours?”

“B-But, I—“

Another slip along your back dimples sends you reeling against Nanami, your head dropping to fill the crook of his neck.

“Nanami! That’s …t-too mmuch for me,” your plea falling on deaf ears.

“Oh Baby, did you forget who I am? The body…this body….your body…there’s so many ways to touch you, tease you, make you cum without getting remotely close to your pussy…’nd I’m just getting started.”

Nanami veers himself enough for his eyes to be cast upon you, his hazel hues scanning over your fucked out face; those eyes fluttering at half-mast, your lips broken fleeing hot pants chest. He can’t help but soothe the pain with pleasure, painting the flustered tips of your ear in deft pecks.

“You just so happen to land yourself a sex therapist for a man.”

It’s a truth that Nanami doesn’t let you absorb, not while he’s playing with you like this. His thumbs taunt your lower back and his hands strapped along your ass pull your hips into transit, rutting against him for a sliver of relief. 

But Nanami’s grown so desperate that he’s slouching—permitting his back to slip against the bath’s wall if it meant he could plug your pleas with his bulge. 

And wasn’t his theory proved right on the first try?

Because the second his hips curl right up under you, he’s gasping at how the lips of your cunt drag against the drenched towel—and along his poor cock. So much fervor, so much passion is driving your hips to rock like this, forcing the towel to lick at your clit.

But…that’s his new job. A new task that comes with his promotion—and one that he’s dying to commence. 

“Ken,” his name highlighted behind your moans.

He gets the chance to watch you reach out for him, your hands lacing around the nape of his neck and pulling him close. So close that your foreheads rest against each other and all you can do is dress each other’s mouth with aimless pants. 

“You want more, don’t you?” He chuckles. 

And you could respond, but you allow your lips to deliver the message to him loud and clear. Back to that familiar cadence, your lips falling into a dance made for you. But when your tongue dips into his mouth for the first time, Nanami swears he could cum right then and there. 

Your tongue, velvety and so kind, traces along his own—riding up along every curve and back down to his bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” is all Nanami can mutter…because…fuck. Such a dirty word, but his mind’s running on nothing but the lust clouding his core, and rushing to bully his cock with relentless pangs. 

“Kento…is that?...” you giggle, breaking from his lips when something hard perks up between your legs. 

“That’s what you do to me, Baby. ‘m so hard already, waiting for you to be mine.”

“Aww, but I am yours, Honey,” you avow, raking your nails along the deep chisels of his back. Against his lips, you whisper such a lulling coo that pulls at Nanami’s restraint, using the exact words he didn’t need to hear. 

“So…what are you waiting for?”

Nanami kisses his teeth, sparking a devious grin to claim his mouth.

“Part three of this lesson.”

A hand of his snakes between your bodies, twisting and tugging his towel out from under him until he’s free. 

“Another erogenous zone, huh? Can I…try to find yours?” 

Nanami could never deny you, who was he to start now of all times? He decides to help you out by laying a grip around your wrist, leading your hand down between your bodies

When your hand laces around his pudgy length, he’s gritting his teeth at your bestowing grip. So loose but cradles his cock with such care he could almost shed a tear. 

But all you do is lug your lax fist up and down, singly to tease Nanami of what could come to pass. And you do it all without failing to keep your sights aligned with his own. So, just this once he’s letting you take the reins. 

“Go on, I’ll even give you extra points if you know how to handle it.” His hands float back up to your hips and he finally relaxes—his body stills, his mind blanks, and Nanami inhales a breath what he deems to be tranquility at its finest.

He’s resting in your care, closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel everything—every beat of his heart, the waves crashing against his chest, the stirring of nerves brewing in his stomach. 

That alone grows, its futile persistence slowly consuming Nanami. He’s touched himself so many times before, but it all fails to compare when he has you working on his behalf. It’s more than he can handle.  

And he’s too keen on hiding it either, Nanami’s head lolling back when your hand gains fervency. Your wrist works sloppy twirls around the belled crown of his cock that coaxes a livid heat to rip through his nerves. 

“J-Just like that, niiice ‘nd slow…g-get the tip too—fuck!” 

Your lips cling to his exposed bobbing Adam’s apple, littering his skin with kisses and taunts. 

“Aww, so sensitive, Ken. And ‘m only touching you exactly how you want me to,”

“Fu-fuuuck, that’s…d-don’t squeeze down like that o-or–!” He’s barely huffing out. His chest’s struggling to keep up, relying on labored breaths to feed his lungs what bits of air he gathers.

Only a few minutes into the relationship, Nanami’s already pushed to the edge, his body teetering the dangerous line of pain and pleasure. It feels so good to have you touch him, but the heft of his impending high has him seeing stars each time he blinks. It’s a line of pain and bliss that has tears welling in Nanami’s eyes, his broken mind split on an outcome that dooms him either way.

“Ha-Hah! Baby, please! I don’t wanna cum yet, slow down!” He’s sobbing with hands clipping to your waist. His nails sink into your plushy skin, marking you with a bruising belt of crimson crescents. 

“But you’re so close, Ken!”

“I know, I know, but I can’t cum before you do, Angel. Wouldn’t feel right to me.”

His hand finds a new hold along your wrist, pulling your worked hand through the water and pressing along the bulging ripples of his chest. 

“Besides…All that sake’s got me craving something so sweet. Think you can help me out with that, Honey?”

“Mm-hm…’course, Ken.”

“Good.” He hums as his gaze falls over the salacious scene’s background: the wooden deck. He’s also keen on calling the towel he freed from you back into play, tugging the soaked cotton towel across the deck. 

Patting his hand atop the deck, Nanami ushers you to join his next lesson, “C’mon. Bend over and keep that pretty ass in the air for me, alright?”

If there’s something Nanami knows about you, it’s your ear for direction. Every task, every favor, and anything he’s asked of you during the past three years was always completed beyond expectation.

And this was no different. 

The arch you take on is nothing short of heavenly, your face hidden behind the blossoming spread of your ass. “Beautiful,” he ponders aloud, his wandering hands rowing along the luscious junctures of your curves. “I still need your help, Darling. Spread yourself fr’ me.”

He oversees the hesitancy that claims you, your trembling hands reaching around the globes of your ass. Ever so gently you pull yourself apart before him, only for a whimper to bring all your hard work crumbling down. 

“But Ken…that’s so—fuck!”

Obiviously you’re nervous, he’s asked you to reveal yourself like it’s something so easy. As his newfound position entitles, he’s supposed to ease your woes, not enforce more than what the world already dishes out. That’s why Nanami takes a thumb right over your clit, drawing loose rings around the timid bud. He’s so painstakingly slow too, ensuring that every nerve is caught beneath his tantric trance. 

“That’s so what, Baby? You don’t have to be nervous with me, just wanna make you feel good.” And that’s a sworn promise of his, the kiss he places onto your ass brandishes it as such. 

“Take your time, ‘m right here.”

Words have power, and he’s witnessing the magic with naked eyes. Your hands, once trembling and timid, now pries yourself apart for Nanami’s sake. 

“How’s that?” you press, tilting your head to find Nanami’s hidden silhouette. 

“Perfect. So pretty too, Baby. Oh, look at how cute your clit is! Mmm, I know you’re sweet too, aren’t you, Darling?”

What else had to be said, Nanami’s really taken a liking to your pussy, the way your clit drinks up his touch with jaunty throbs. He can’t ignore that blatant fact that you’re dripping into his impressions. He could take some credit for the sticky mess unfolding between your legs, but he’s more interested in furthering his role.

So it’s no wonder when Nanami can feel himself drawing nearer, his heavy eyes guiding him to meet your splayed cunt within mere inches. 

“Tell me, y’know that this cute clit of yours is another one of those erogenous zones ‘m teaching you about, right?” He breathes out against your bare cunt. 

“Y-Yeah…” you huff, biting at your lip. 

“Good girl. Let me see how long it takes to make a mess out of you.”

A man starved, that’s all Nanami is as he falls victim to your displayed cunt. He nurses you with a pout, granting him the exclusivity of tending to your clit. He places a soft kiss as a foundation, melting all your woes beneath his supple curves of a ruined grin.

He seals the spry bulb between his lips, his purling jaw working to bring your clit to its blushing bulbous swell. 

He’s allowing his tongue to slip onto the scene, the slicked palette pedaling kind, short strokes to the pink pearl. His heavy tongue drifts along the raw nerves softly, curling just at your swelling hood to tease. 

Between a thin stare, Nanami’s thinking of how cute it is that your plump clit dances along with his tongue. It takes two to dance and Nanami couldn’t have asked for a finer partner. Whenever he takes the time to twirl, swirl, and nudge at you, he’s met with a grand pirouette that laces around his tongue. 

“Fuck!” the curse ripping from your puffy lips. It feels good, that much he knows thanks to your melodies. But if only you knew the discipline it’s taking Nanami from not burying himself between the fat mounds of your cunt. 

You’re like silk against his slicked muscle, those soft folds of yours sewed along his curled tongue. He can’t even begin to account for how many times he’s traced at the pulsing hem of your folds, nipped at your fluttering hole, even the number of kisses he’s tongued out of your clit, all to pull out that saccharine stream of ambrosia from your slit. So sweet, so sticky, exactly what he needs to soothe his mind from the edge it sits on. 

He hears your cries too, your sobs, the whimpers, and the need to cum blended with each word. Nanami wants to soothe you too, feed your numbed mind kind words of reassurance. But greed’s got the better of him, the sin staining his very tongue as he indulges in your honey. 

But when he catches the way your hands dig into the plush of your ass, he’s wincing at the sight.  

He’s also keen to that hand of yours drifting dangerously close to his canvas. He’s aware of your game and allows for that stubborn digit of yours to nip at your slit. 

Those subtle pulses lead to you sinking in a little deeper, a certain detail he can’t let slip for too long.

“Am I not enough for you, Honey?” Go on, show me how you touch yourself.”

His chocolate hues break wide at how greedily your puffy hole envelopes your finger, swallowing each sloppy stride you pump into your core. But that’s all it is—cheap, sloppy work.

Somehow and someway, your body’s enjoying it, the addition of your finger bringing shivers to rake across your skin. 

And while Nanami isn’t a jealous man, he’s resenting that touch of yours with a nasty sneer. 

He could shy away, let his mouth help guide you through that high begging to crash through your body. You’re working so hard—but Nanami works harder. 

The longest finger he has pecks at your busy hole. He doesn’t think much of it at first—until he catches your hole latching onto his teasing scheme. Before he can go on about how much of a mess you’ve made out of yourself, a dumbfounded awe strikes him. He’s able to attest to it, how his digit is being suckered inside you. 

“Oh fu—knew you still needed my help…but we can work together too.” He’s chuckling to conceal that crack in his voice. 

It’s a slow, wet draw that has you stretching, gasping to be stuffed by the oblivious girth of his finger. But it’s so wet that your pussy and your mouth have to squeal out against his deepening reach. 

“K-Kennn, fuck! Right there!” You gasp, yielding your endeavors at Nanami’s introduction. 

“Now I didn’t say to stop, Angel. Keep going, pretend like I’m not even here.”

And he means every word, he’s waiting for you to pick that sloppy pace, one that he challenges with the slow drags of his own. You lack the grace he strives for, the same grace that brings him right to your sweet spot without fail.

“O-ooh shit, Kento!” Your hips jerk from his ministrations, but he isn’t letting your sobs distract him from such a discovery. 

“Hm? Is that your spot, Honey? Right here?” He taunts, sending his ruined digit to thrash against the stiffening bundle of nerves.

“‘M so close, Ken! Plea-Please don’t stop!”

Don’t stop? Don’t stop? He had no plans of stopping, yet your body seems to cry out against your compelling demands. Why, Nanami wants to bring about the lush high you deserve, whereas your hips suddenly picked up such a nasty habit of jerking away from his mouth has him thinking otherwise. 

“I told you already, you don’t have to beg me. It’s right there, hm? Let it all out for me.”

He tags a hand at your rebelling hips and pulls you right onto his coiled tongue, where defeat lies along the horizon. He relies on his lips,  now plump and plush, to tack onto the sputtering bulb of your clit and melt away all that prudish tension with a kiss. 

Such a kiss allows him to trace over your spry hood, to roll out the glossy pearl in riveting tides. And when paired with his pummeling finger, Nanami can only count the seconds it takes for your body to crumble.

Nanami draws him back exclusively to watch your beautiful demise. He keeps his hand at your hips, kneading at the grip he used to restrain you out of pity. It’s an honor for him to be by your side, aiding you through what he deems to be a perilous high. 

He’s so endowed to your allure, that Nanami can’t keep his thoughts all to himself—no, he utterly has a duty to share all he’s thinking with you, even how pretty you look in the face of ecstasy. 

“Look at you, wanted to cum ‘nd I did it all for you…give it to me, c’mon, Angel.”

Your hand can still be found in his, clutching at his palm through every tremor, every sob, and the heavy sacrifice of your breath. He’s right there with you, decorating your skin with soiled pecks until your breath is caught and steady.  

“Good?” He checks, his hand skimming along your skin. 

“Oh, Ken…th-that was really good!” 

“Well then…can you give me one more?”

That’s when you finally turn around to face him, gems of water adorning his body. Your eyes hinge on a particular sight though, his cock standing up at a slight curve.

Tan with the pretty cream hues of his shaft that contrast his own skin—and the blushing pink tip of his cock by miles. Vibrant veins line his every inch, lacing around his girth without fail. The underside’s heavy too, defined by the contours that flush out his cock. And of course the tip’s fat, what else did you expect, the blushing pink heart that tops him off pecks at you, his cock primed by tease. 

Nanami’s touched by how quick he’s got your attention, and he plans of keeping your time well-spent. That’s why he’s swift to bestow a coddling grip around his, feeding himself with a few lazy pumps for your explicit viewing pleasure. 

“But…I forgot to bring condoms—didn’t think we’d get this far. We don’t have to–”

“No,” you grin, passing a sinister glint back to Nanami, “It’s fine.”

Oaths spill from his lips the moment you grant him such a blessing. He’s already nuzzled against you, preparing his fragile mind with what lies beyond your hole. 

“Oh, you got so wet for me, fuck,” the words he’s mumbling aren’t even made for your ears—he’s raving straight to your pussy. He’s dragging his slicked tip through your folds, up and down, tracing at your slit with lazy nips. His prodding bellhead comes to smother your tight hole in messy kisses, lathering up a rich foamy web that’s waiting to be destroyed. 

“I’ll be gentle, so be nice to yourself too ‘nd don’t rush,” Nanami hums as he hunches over your body. 

He’s keeping his hips loose as he sends his cock eight inches deep. Eight inches that he’s chosen to feed to you through kind snaps of his hips. Your puffy entrance suckles at the slit of his cock, drinking up every drop of his precum before he’s hidden inside your walls.

“Fuh–Angel, t-that’s just th-the tip, al-alright? Got a litt-ttle more to go,” He gasps. But that’s to serve as a reminder to him that he has more to go–which means Nanami has to grasp onto his composure for just a little while longer.

The urge’s there, but why rush when you feel so good right here? Warming up his tip with silky pulses that test Nanami’s resolve. The hands he’s chained to your hips grow heavy, bearing a harsh grip once he’s glued his hips to the thick plush of your ass.

“Gonna move now, Angel. Tell me if it’s too much right now, ‘kay?”

Nanami’s so ingrained with your suckling heat that he almost doesn’t want to pull out. If you keep squeezing him like that too, he knows he could in a matter of minutes. 

But then a thought laps through his mind—he’s wearing a rare honor of delving into your pussy bare. 

And that’s a chance he’s not willing to risk.

Slowly, his hips reel from you, stealing back those girthy inches from your greedy walls. He darts his eyes down to the sight, his cock bore with your slick. So messy what a few minutes can do, and it’s left him with a fixture for sore eyes. 

Creamy, thick, and yet…it’s not enough. No, it’s not enough for Nanami, he needs you creaming a nice cloudy ring around the base of his cock.

Since that’s the task he’s chasing, Nanami doesn’t hesitate to seal himself back into you, finding a kind rhythm to alleviate your walls to his bulling girth. Every roll of his hips brings him closer to his goal, you’re easing up around him. He’s almost inspired by your resolve to take him to feed you just a little more of a tempo, his hips catching wind of your welcoming advances.

Your voice breaks his concentration. “Ken?” 

“Ye-yeah, Honey?”

“M-More…I can take it, Baby.”

He had no business hearing that fall from your lips, that request only makes Nanami throb. He’s all for it now, reeling his hips back until the very tip of his cock threatens to leave you. The filthy rut he’s fallen into reads through your ass, towing hypnotic waves to ripple through your skin. 

You feel so good around him, your satin-like walls snuggling his girth. He can feel you working at his own demise, all that squeezing feeding the knot in his stomach. Oh, how he wants to cum, to paint you in his seed—but that’s not an honor yet deserved, not while your orgasm has yet to present itself. 

He’s so hellbent on being so kind to you that every bit of his body acts in accordance towards his wish. The thick head he delivers to, the girth of his cock keeps your greedy walls at bay, and the swell of his heavy balls babies your clit with light taps of rapture. 

He’s almost forgotten where you two were—outside with neighbors under a kilometer away. But who’s Nanami to stop those delicious moans from leaving your mouth? You’re singing him a song of  how well he’s pleasing you, how deep he sends his cock to reach. He’s been busy at your sweet spot for sometime, painting the nerves in his scent, in his kisses, and in his fervor. 

“That’s it, stay with me. Y’re taking me so damn good too, Angel. Squeezing down on me like that…

“Fuck, Ken..I-my legs…can’t keep them up anymore…”

Before Nanami can even offer some advice, your body’s already given up the hope of support. Your legs stretch out along the towel, forcing you to lay on your tummy. 

“Hm, don’t worry about it, just lay there all pretty and take this dick, okay?”

Of course, Nanami’s found a solution, as he always does. This solution prompts him to trap you beneath his world when planting the flat of his hands beside your head, his hunkering body stretching over you. He slots his chest along your back, leaving his hips to break away from you. 

All your curves, all your breaths, all your whimpers and your moans were his own when he’s this close. He can feel everything, even the way your walls flutter around him with this newfound angle. 

He gives you time to adjust while he gets to explore you, his eyes searching for where to lay his artwork. 

Right there, along your shoulder, he’s already imagining all the kisses and bites claiming your soft skin. 

“Tell me…” he mutters between a trail of pecks along your shoulder. “You know what I love about you?”

“N-No…what’s that?” you quiz, levering your chin back to find Nanami hard at work. 

His earthy hues fall prey to your gaze. He’s compelled to abandon his work to favor you, the answer to your question dribbling from his mouth. 

“Oh, what do I love about my sweet baby? It’s how vocal you are, always telling me what’s on your mind. Just like right now…” he smirks, “Even though I can’t see, you always seem to tell me  how deep I am…and how much deeper I can go. Just…liiike this…”

A lazy drive of his hips sends his cock to deliver a wispy kiss right to your cervix, coaxing your tummy to cave in against the towel.

“Oooh shit! Ken! Fuck!!”, your gaping mouth mewls.

Nanami simply grins at how fast your hands ball up the towel between your fists, he’s proven right. Not that he cares all that much, bearing the privilege of hearing your sweet cry is all the reward he needs. 

“Oh I know, Baby, I know,” his voice carrying a suave chord, “I’m gonna be nice, fuck you right too.”

A man of his word he is, Nanami Kento. 

“KenKenKen! ‘M gonna fucking cum again!” you sob, bucking your hips up against him.

“Again? That’s my girl. Gonna cum on my dick, right? I’ll make it a good one too, don’t you worry!”

He’s working on your behalf, grinding his hips along the swell of your ass. He can’t go any deeper than this, but he’ll admit that he’s neglected your sweet spot for quite some time now, Blame it on the feverish heat subscribing to his body, but he’s ready to focus his all onto you.

That includes kissing at your sweet spot with the head of his cock. Rolling his hips ever so carefully, sketching along those inflamed nerves with buttery pecks, he’s ready to make you cum—hard. Harder than what any toy, your fingers, and any man ever could.

Though, it’s when he slips up and finds your cervix—that’s what brings about your downfall. His ill-minded finding brought about deep-rooted tremors to wreck your core, capturing your entire body with a hellish wrath. Your walls clench at Nanami, cursing him for being such a fate before you.

Yet, all he can do is cheer you on, chuckling at how his efforts brought him to a place of bliss. 

“That’s it, cream all on me, Baby. Fuck, trying to make me cum too, aren’t you?”

“Ken, I-I—ohmygod!”

“Shhh, I got you, Sweetheart,” he’s humming along your cheek, “Come back down to me…we’re not done yet.”

“We’re not??!”

Nanami hides the sly grin on his face as he turns back to the awaiting pool of water behind you both.

“Of course not. We came all the way out here, did you think I wasn’t going to take you in the water too, Baby?”

“Ken…I…I don’t think I can cum anymore!” 

“Oh yes, you can! You didn’t even squirt for me yet! But if you don’t do it tonight, I’ll make you squirt tomorrow.”

Selfish, so utterly selfish of him to try and pull another round out of you, but his tempered patience challenges this rare spout of excitement. For in simply a few hours, Nanami’s become addicted to you—your lips, your body, your moans, even watching you cum at his hand, he’s addicted to it all.

“One…one more, ‘kay?” you wager, a look of your glossy doe eyes consuming his sights.

“Okay! That—”

“But…” you swiftly intervene, your weary hand searching for rest along his thigh. 

Nanami’s eyes follow your lithe hand, tracking the lazy path it takes up his body. He’s still waiting to hear the rest of your deal, but how can he when your hand trails up his thigh, curving up around the base of his cock and up towards his flexing abdomen. 

“Ken, baby?” The melodic call of his name breaks the trance, Nanami’s sights meeting your own.

“Y-Yeah?”

Nanami’s eyes light up at the smile adorning your face.

“I wanna ride you. It’s the least I can do for makin’ you work on your vacation.”

He’s gawking at you. Dumbly too. His mouth surrenders to that gap and he merely stares at you. That’s all he can do to distract himself from the mind-numbing rush of blood filling out every inch of his cock. 

Because thanks to you…he’s painfully hard again too. 

“Aww, you like that idea? You’re already making a mess, Ken.”

He looks down. You’re right. All this excitement has him dripping aimlessly, the back of your thigh covered in patchy drops of his precum. 

But he can’t bring himself to move, not when he’s caught between a place of utter embarrassment and pitiful arousal. Should he apologize? Should he wipe it off?

As you crawl back onto your hands and knees, suddenly his cock’s sitting homely between the soft, thick globes of your ass, Nanami doesn’t know where he found the restraint to not paint your skin white right then and there.

And you have all the confidence to taunt him now too? Taking advantage of his dumbstruck silence to roll your hips against him, stroking his weeping cock ever so slowly.

“C’mon, Ken, I’m waiting. Don’t you wanna go back in the water and relax…with me? We can all that fun we’ve been talking about too.”

He’s stuck on the sight. Up and down, you’re dragging back on his cock, leaving the white-hot tip raw and aching; leaving those portly veins to bloat and flourish along his length; leaving the spill of precum to dangerous tread behind the lines of milky white. 

“Fuck” Nanami’s voice rattles out at last. “I might—no, if we do…I'm so sorry…Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I’m not gonna last long!”

“That’s okay,” you coo, “We can go nice and slow just to calm you down.”

Shamefully, Nanami nods at your assurance. As to how you ended up with a hand over him is shameful—but a well-played card. 

Slowly, he descends back into the haze of steam, the water welcoming his body once more. He sits himself at the bottom of the pool, the water coming up just above his navel. 

In the corner of his eye, Nanami carefully watches as you slip back onto the water and crawl into his sprawled lap to straddle him. Your arms drape along his broad shoulders and he’s already reaching for your hips with hungry hands.

Your forehead presses up against his own, sealing  Nanami in a spell he couldn’t imagine breaking from.

“Gonna go slow, okay?” You whisper, your hips drifting above the pink crown of his cock. 

Though he’s been buried to the hilt of your heat, it’s still foreign to Nanami’s mind what it means to have you split over him. He doesn’t know that to have your pretty pussy split and sputtering dumb means to carve your walls into his shape, his size, to mold you around every single detail that comes with a man of his caliber. 

And that upright curve he’s donning too. 

The sweltering gush that your walls paint Nanami behind has him reeling beyond comparison. He’s so desperate too, the urge to snap you down to his tensed thighs teases the very hands he keeps pinned to your luring hips.

But he can’t forget that it’s an effort you make to accommodate him, laggardly drowning your poor hole beneath the sinful weight of his length. 

Taking him like this, it’s overwhelming to have something so thick, so hot, and stupidly twitching out of sheer excitement fill you like it’s easy. 

Yet, you do it anyway with that cute break between your lips, gasping like something so shocking has your attention. You do it with furrowed brows, confounded as to how you’ve ended up gaping around his fat cock out of the kindness of your heart.

It’s all so shrewd, but your sacrifice makes everything worthwhile once Nanami’s immersed in your spitting cunt once more. 

He’s right back to relish how your walls pamper every bit of his cock in those flirting embraces. He’s right back to gritting his teeth, finding it in himself to bear that persuasive hold you’ve laid before him. 

Nanami has it in him to cry out, to rattle off hymns of how well that sloppy pussy of yours got him—but all he can conjure up is the will to pin a sloppy kiss on your lips. 

His mind might be fleeting, but Nanami’s learning you too are a woman of your word; slow is an understatement for the mesmerizing toll your hips adopt. It’s a mesmerizing toll that’s slow enough to have the likes of Nanami—a man of rigid logic—gasping for air. 

You’re still squeezing him, but it’s more aligned with your intentions now rather than the nerve of taking him on like before. It’s all so tedious, having your hips roll all the way to the top,  dangling at the tip, only for your walls to lather up the fat pink bulb in gummy kisses. 

All the teasing has his cock threatening to slip out, cursing your cunt in twitching for stealing back the shared bliss. 

“Oh fuck—Wha…What are you doing to me, Angel?” He’s whimpering against your lips, and your smirk catches every single word. 

You feign innocence with him, pressing a merciful peck onto his quivering frown. “What are you talking about, Honey? I’m taking my sweet time with you, just like I said I was.”

That’s what you say, but Nanami’s aware that there’s more to your claim than what meets his ear. If you were really taking your sweet time with him, why is he spiraling down this pit of ravishing piety? 

You’re drawing out whimpers he himself never heard before, his jaw slacked by the sudden song on his heart. You’re only riding him, but can you feel how every bit of his body surrenders to you? You’re following through on your word, yet here Nanami is, chasing after your swiveling hips with mindless bucks of his own. 

You’re too clever at having him dance in your palm, and that’s something Nanami can’t help but plot against. He isn’t one to challenge the powers that be—but something about this moment taunts the very chemistry of his psyche.

He has to even the playing field, though, in his current state of writhing and plight, all he has is his hands.

For his ruse to taste success, Nanami’s hands can be found bound to a particular parlour of your back—the lumbar, or…your lower back. He’s sure you’ve forgotten about his speech from earlier, but he meant every word. For what he possessed in his hands was both the power and knowledge to have you cum without any real need for penetration.

And while that holds true…he does have you on his cock right now, working so hard to relieve him. He’s musing over the idea, hungry to see  how hard you’d cum if he picks up his teasing.

His thumbs slot themselves back along those dimples he’s grown fond of, his sinking digits shattering the powerful strides of your hips. 

“Oh—You’re back to that again?!” You jolt, your hips seized by his mischievous ploy. 

Nanami’s drinking in your exasperation with a smirk. “Told you, there’s so many ways to make you cum. 

He’s bracing for the torturous words you have in store for his brash rebuttal.  That’s the fate he’s anticipated to befall him. 

He wasn’t, however, prepared for your encircling arms to pull him closer, your bodies simmering against one another. He didn’t anticipate the kisses you’d place at his gaping lips, gentle and sweet. And there’s no possible way that Nanami could have orchestrated the words set to leave your lips.

“Oh yeah? Then let’s cum together, Ken.”

“Are…you close?” he whispers softly.

“Mhm,” you nod, “And I know you are too.”

Nanami’s taken aback by your tentative nature. You know his habits, mannerisms, and now how dangerously close he was to spilling in your womb. He had the strength to press you up along the pool walk to finish himself off, but where’s the fun in such bold novelties?

Because if he did follow through on that thought, he’d be missing out on bearing witness to your eyes screwing shut when you drop your hips a little too hard, bringing his cock right back to your sweet spot.

“K-Ken, I’m–!” That’s all he needs to hear, not when your face paints him a clear picture. With your eyes rolling back into your skull, your forehead sunken along the crook of his neck, and that breathless sob warming his skin—you were right at your peak.  

It doesn’t help his cause that you get all the more sensitive, that minor mistake throwing your whole body into the heat of chaos. You’re ruining him in flittering clenches, pulling every ounce of Nanami’s strength to the surface of his skin. 

He’s seeing stars in his eyes, white patches seizing his vision as your poor pussy stutters around him. He knows what’s due to follow—that all-powerful weight that pins him down and forces that tragic cycle to crash down on Nanami. 

His legs are subdued by a trifling rip of nerve, rendering Nanami’s reprisal futile. He’s going to cum, that’s the pill he has to swallow. But he can’t begin to fathom that he’s going to cum inside you. 

Sure, it’s a thought he’s paid some time too—every day for the last three years. But now that he’s faced with that want, he can’t help but rebuke it completely. 

He’s reaching between your bodies to grab at his cock, wedging himself from your heat with a sob. You were so good to him, even better around him and now he’s forced to bear his orgasm alone while your own courses through your veins. 

“‘m…c-cum—cumming! Fuck, ‘m gonna cum, Baby!” He seethes, clenching his jaw when his overworked body is faced with the lone choice of release. A release that has opal hues spitting from his twitching slit, thick ropes of white staining the water. 

He’s devastated by a hitching breath that leaves his stomach caved and his burly chest shuddering for air. Nanami’s head is sent to roll, dropping back as he’s doing his best to hold back that woeful moan. 

And he’s still going, still tainting the water with his definition of healing. The hot spring was healing, but your pussy was the epitome of rejuvenation. 

“Hey,” Nanami’s hitching voice rasps as he strokes the small of your back, “Still with me?”

All you can deliver is a sheepish nod, your arms still clinging to Nanami for support. And he’s got you, his hands cradling your delicate body through the reeling fatigue that comes after such bliss. 

He’s exhausted, worked raw and to the bone, but Nanami still finds the energy to pull both you and himself out of the water and into the bedroom. 

With just the indirect rays of light from the hallway, Nanami gently lays you to rest upon the vast face of the bed. You look so peaceful like this, nodding off with a faint grin plastered to your puffy lips. He finds himself inclined towards you, hovering above you as he dusts the back of his hand past your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, “You did so good for me, so proud of you! I’ll take care of the rest, don’t worry–”

“Ken?” your hoarse voice croaks out. 

Nanami immediately gives in to you, concern dressing his face with knitted brows. “Yes, Sweetheart?”

Your hand creeps towards his own, your fingers weaving around his own. He can tell you have a question on your mind, it’s begging to come out too. 

“It’s okay, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well…can I still come to work Monday?”

Nanami’s eyes soften as he peers over to you. Even in this darkness, he can make out the frown playing at your lips. His hand comes to soothe all your worries, cupping your cheek with his thumb and stroking the highs of your cheek. 

“Of course, Baby. You can come in, leave early, whatever you want.”

“So then…can I still work with you?” 

That question troubles Nanami, striking him inaudible as he cautiously considers his answer. If he had things his way, Nanami wanted you to go shopping, to spoil yourself with spa days and classy cafes. He wanted you to enjoy the bliss of free time, while he worked to ensure all your dreams could come true. 

But then again, he didn’t have it his way. 

He has you to consider now, and if working with him brought you joy, who was he to ruin that?”

“Well…I want you to go have fun, go shopping, go to the spa. But that’s what I want. I also love having you at the office with me too so…if that’s something you really want, then…”

“It is! Now that we’ve figured that much out…let’s go.”

You make an attempt to stand, only for Nanami to catch your trembling body within his care. “Um..where are we going?” He asks, draping an arm around your waist.

“To shower. I may be tired, but I think I can handle a shower with you…and only a shower, Kento.”

“That’s fine by me. But, since you’re up…we should also plan out what we’re doing tomorrow. I was thinking we leave here at 9:30 and—”

“Kennn,” you draw out, “It’s vacation. Let things happen, okay?”

He muses at your words, “Let things…happen, you say?” 

Let things happen? That’s the kind of advice he prefers to steer clear of. And yet, it’s gotten Nanami to achieve his wildest dream—turning his pretty assistant into his girlfriend. He steals one more glance at you, a look that fetches a smile to grace his timid features. 

“Then, we’ll let things happen, won’t we, Darling?”

[lanabuckybarnes]

| A Door Away |

Minors DNI 18+

2 weeks. It’s been 2 weeks of biological warfare in the sense of your heat. When he met up with you in the hall, Bucky knew with just with a glance just how fucked he was, and he needed it badly

✧Pairing✧ Alpha!MilitaryVet!Bucky x Omega!Fem!Reader

✧Warnings✧ Alpha!Bucky, Pining, Fluff, Buck being a cutie, Wet dreams, Oral (M), Rut, Heat, A/B/O Themes, Dirty Talk, Petnames [Omega, Pretty Girl, Baby, Princess], Dirty talk, Confessions - Any other warnings let me know

✧Word Count✧ 3.7k

✧Events✧ Hot Bucky Summer | WEEK 2 | “What should I call you? | Master, Alpha, Pet | @buckybarnesevents

Buckys-wintersoldier 2K followers Bingo | Square: Confessions in a weird situation | @buckys-wintersoldier

James Bucky Barnes was aloof. He kept to himself most of the time, rarely speaking beyond a hello or a soft ‘how are you?’ You had to admit that there was something about the man that intrigued you. Was it his cold gaze that seemed to melt whenever he looked at you, those rippling arms and toned body you’d caught a glimpse of through your peephole one warm day. Or maybe it was the sweet gentle nature he hid behind those layers of hardened emotions. You can always remember the first time you met your neighbour face to face. He held a basket in his hand filled to the brim with household items that you could easily have forgotten with a big move.

“Oh hi” you chirped when you noticed that you’d been taking in the man for a little too long. His scent captivates you, keeping you glued to your doormat. A rich vanilla permeating your nostrils, it was one of the nicest scents you’d encountered around your time with alphas.

He cleared his throat, the tip of his nose and ears darkening to a deep pink.

“My sister…I mentioned to her I had a new neighbour and she made this…for you” his voice dropped off at the end of the sentence, his deep blue eyes unable to hold your own for more than a minute. He was peculiar for an Alpha, most of them reeked of arrogance, treating their subordinates like gum on the sole of their shoe. But here he was, a basket stretched out to you and his eyes pinned to his shoes.

You’d been staring again.

A few months into living in the new apartment, everything was finally settled and you were settling into your little home just great. Bucky helped an awful lot which surprised you beyond belief. When your AC broke and your landlord wouldn’t pick up your calls James knocked on your door, tools in hand. He had it fixed in under an hour.

The same with your shower, sink and that time you bought a bigger bed, determined you could do it yourself only to knock on James’ door with your tail tucked between your legs.

After an offer of his favourite dish and beer, he found it hard to keep the ‘annoyed’ scowl on his face. You were just too cute looking up at him like that, with wide puppy dog eyes, looking so defeated. His animal brain lived for the domestic life you two had accidentally created.

“Today was nice Buck” You turned in his embrace to lean into his side a little more, your legs tucked under you and your face inches away from his. The swans in the water splashed around, courting each other with their pretty dances.

“I’m glad you liked it” he let his hand, the metal one that he’d lost while serving, cup your cheek, the plates clicking softly as he soothed his thumb over the bone.

His eyes dropped to the perfect bow of your lips, how close they were to his. It would take only a slight movement to connect them, swallowing your soft sounds.

“You don’t gotta stare,” you teased. He lurched forward, capturing your lips in a tight embrace, his tongue pressing against your mouth looking for entry which you gladly granted.

There was no fight for dominance in the kiss, your tongues dancing instead. His lungs stung with lack of oxygen but he didn't want to pull away, he couldn’t, your soft floral scent mixing with the dewy air keeping him trapped. When it became too much you parted, his lip captured by your teeth.

There was something so primal in your eyes, a longing that had him twitching inside his jeans in anticipation.

“James” his name came out of your mouth as a breathy whimper, almost like it was excruciating to say his name. The air around you both changed into something humid, biting at him, rearing its erogenous head.

He didn’t even notice the way your hand had drifted down, his breath catching in his throat as you rubbed your palm over him.

“Need you James” you whispered so sweetly in his ear, leaving soft kisses down his neck, completely missing his scent gland. The rhythmic clanks of his belt sounded in his ears and you pulled back with a victorious sound.

You looked like an angel as you pulled him from his briefs, pumping his length until precum beaded at the tip. Your eyes never left his as you sunk, your tongue rolling out to taste him.

You were so close he could feel your hot breath against his tip, your pink muscle drawing ever closer—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Bucky’s eyes shot open. His chest heaving against his mattress euphoria, evidence of his actions that he’d just imagined soaked his underwear and sheets.

But the dream was more than just a run-of-the-mill thing. It only meant one thing for Bucky. His rut.

To say you were growing concerned for James was an understatement. For over two weeks now you hadn't seen him, hadn’t heard a thing from him at all. It was like he just vanished. It was when he didn’t show up for your weekly meal together that it reached its boiling point.

You couldn’t even eat the food you prepared as you sat, staring blankly at the spot James would usually sit, letting you drag on and on about your day with a soft smile or a little comment here and there. Your heart always fluttered when he did that, even if it was just a small hum it sent butterflies flapping about aimlessly in your stomach.

You went to bed in a sour mood, hangry and entirely terrified for your friend.

You tossed and turned in dreamless slumber, any slight sound shocking you awake, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t force yourself into deeper rest.

The clock on your bedside table read 3am when you heard a bang in the hallway, a curse following it. You slipped out from under the covers and grabbed the first thing that came into your hand, your dad’s baseball bat he gave to you for good luck—and for a scenario just like this one.

You crept silently down your hall to the front door, avoiding each creaky floorboard that Bucky promised to fix sometime last week. Peaking through the peephole you found the very man that had made your life a living pain for the past few weeks.

You swung your door open quickly, meeting the wild eyes of James, anger bubbling in your chest fighting with the concern you also felt. The concern won by a slim margin.

“James” you whispered, inspecting his body with your eyes. His hair was a tousled mess, and his pale blue shirt was wrinkled. Still the same man and with no sign of injury, except the pained expression across his face.

“Bucky. Call me Bucky” he forced a smile but he couldn’t hide the low rumblings of a growl in his broad chest. His brain short-circuited at the way your sweet voice sounded. It brought him right back into his bed and into that dream. He couldn’t deal with that and he sure as hell wouldn’t force you to either. He wasn’t that kind of alpha.

Then your nose picked up on something in the air around you, that vanilla smell that Bucky had, it swirled with something much more fruity, something suggestive that had your omega brain wrestling with your logical human side.

His rut.

That’s where he was.

His voice rasped as he spoke, lying dormant for too long but your mind was far too occupied with more nefarious thoughts. You couldn’t help but imagine him, legs spread wide on a couch, his naked chest blushed pink, his mouth agape as strangled moans, growls, any sound of pleasure falling from him. His hips fucking up into his hand, or one of those silicone pussy’s you’d seen in porn.

Would he be thinking of you while he called out for his omega?

“Hello?” You shook out of your trance, realising that you’d been staring at Bucky the whole time. You shot him an awkward smile, confusing him further.

“Bye.”

Slam. Your door shook on its hinges as you slid down the other end of it.

Bye? Why the fuck did you say that? You let your head fall backwards, sucking in some much-needed fresh air. Your thighs clenched, your hand wandering between your legs to your soaked panties. And that was only because of his smell.

Bucky was no better, the remains of his rut flaring up at the sight of you, in that tank and panties. You hadn’t anticipated anyone and opened the door in a panic, completely forgetting about your half-naked look. Bucky grunted, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous he was being. He threw his keys into the bowl and stripped off his clothes, heading straight for the shower. If he left it any longer he didn’t want to think of the ways he’d ruin your tiny body.

His cock throbbed at the notion. God he hated his brain sometimes.

You shot out of bed in a panic at the first twinge. It couldn’t be happening, you hadn’t had one in months. The second twinge had your legs like jelly, your hands slapping onto the nearest surface.

Oh, it was happening, and you had only a little time to prepare.

Throwing on a pair of sweats and quickly doing your teeth you frantically made your way to the car park to grab your car, almost speeding to the shop just so you could be at home in time.

You raided the store of all its protein products and energy drinks. The bags almost burst at the seam as you carried them to the elevator. Your fingers ached and your body cried out. Come on it won’t be that much longer, you reassured that animalistic part of your brain.

Stepping out onto your floor you struggled down the carpeted hall, the bags feeling heavier and heavier. Thankfully Bucky would be at work, you didn’t have any chance of bumping into him.

You fished for your keys in your pocket, grasping them tightly before fumbling with them.

“Need a hand?” Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh yesss. A range of emotions crossed your brain at his deep voice, your logical brain cursing while your omega brain reeled.

Yes. you need a hand, let the alpha know what’s wrong. Your animal brain demanded.

Don’t be fucking stupid, he’s your neighbour and he doesn’t even like you. You’re wanting us to wriggle our ass in his face and beg to be bred, yeah I’m sure he wouldn’t call the cops.

It wasn’t unheard of for omegas to ask alphas for help during their heat, kind of like a friends-with-benefits scenario. But you’d be damned if you were asking Bucky for help. You could get a bit…passionate about sex and it doubled during your heat, you liked Bucky too much to let him bear witness to that, your mind plaguing you with thoughts of him hightailing it and running at the first sight of you.

You’d settle with your little knotted friend that rested neatly in your drawer.

After politely declining Bucky’s offer you for straight to work.

Night drew closer, your nest established on your floor, perfectly poised just the way you like it. Energy drinks and your trusty silicone dildo lay off to the side.

You took your time showering, doing your entire routine. Drying yourself off before lathering your body in lotion, you didn’t even bother to put on some clothing, instead settling yourself into the nest in a foetal position.

Your hips rolled into the air, soft whimpers falling from you at around 2am. Without hesitation you grabbed the rubber cock, squirting some lube on it and running it through your soaked slit. You pushed it in slowly until the knot pressed against your entrance, your pussy not quite ready yet but with the way your wetness rolled out of your body, it wouldn’t be too long.

Bucky could hear your whimpering from the next apartment, your scent wafting through his house and straight into his nostrils. His cock twitched at your soft sounds, your muffled pleading for an Alpha to fill you up.

His mind wandered, were you using your fingers to get off or one of those cocks he knew companies made to exploit little omega’s like you.

“Mmm fuck Alpha hurts so much need your pups”

God it was going to be a long night.

The longer you went on the worse Bucky got, his cock dribbling all over his tight briefs, his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. He sat on the side of his bed, his head leaning against the wall, listening to you please yourself.

2 weeks later your heat was showing no signs of subsiding. Your supplies from your first run had gone long ago and you had to ask your friend to grab you some more. You’d never felt a heat like this, usually they’d last a couple of days and that would be that but you were still riding your dildo a week later.

“Fuckfuckfuck…Alpha please so good” you slurred, a flurry of whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you rocked your hips back and forth, the head of the dildo brushing against your sweet spot. Your pussy gushing more slick around the plastic, smearing all over your thighs and onto the blankets of your nest.

It just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Your orgasms shook through you but you were left unsatisfied and riding the rubber cock desperately. Trying to seek that one good, back arching blissful climax that had you sinking into your sheets in exhaustion.

But it never came.

“Oh fuck Alpha gimme that fucking knot mmmm need your knot so bad, need you to breed me full” your moans mixed with the sloshing of your cunt, your lips stretching around the knot as it sunk into you repeatedly with a sloppy sound, your fingers frantically strumming your clit for anything. You could feel the coils in your stomach tighten almost painfully but no matter what you did they just wouldn’t snap.

“Fuckkkkk” You stopped your movements, sitting on the dildo and catching your breath. You were at a loss, you didn’t know what to do, if you didn’t cum you were going to drive yourself insane but no matter how hard you fucked yourself it just wouldn’t make anything happen.

You were so desperate, so fucking needy. You needed an Alpha.

The dildo fell out of you with a pop as you stood on shaky legs, each step towards your bedside cabinet sending pleasured shocks up your spine. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you reached the one you needed.

‘Bucky 🤭🩵’

For a second you hovered over the call button, unsure if you should do it. But need prevailed and the ringing brought you back to reality.

“Hello?”

You almost moaned pathetically down the phone at the sound of his voice, thick with sleep deprivation and so fucking husky.

“B-Bucky…” you hadn’t thought this far, your brain was so fogged with need that you didn’t even stop to think about how you’d ask him for help. Bucky’s voice at the end of the line was quick to respond. You didn’t need to tell him a thing he could hear just how much you struggled.

“I’ll be over in 5”

You could’ve cum on the spot, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you bit your lip and clenched your thighs. You looked around your room, a mess of blankets and pillows arranged in a circle on your floor and in the centre, your dildo. You sunk to the floor, no longer able to stand as the waves were just too much. The hardwood hurt your hands and knees as you crawled into the centre of your nest but you couldn’t care.

You were finally getting help and you couldn’t have been happier with who it was.

Your cheek smooshed against one of the pillows as you lay waiting, your hips grinding into the air subconsciously. You were so wrapped up in your trance that you failed to hear the front door opening or the soft knock on your bedroom door.

“Look at you pretty ‘mega” Bucky drawled from behind you, his slate blue eyes boring into your core. A fresh wave of slick trickled from you at the sight of him, his smell infecting the air in a way that had you gulping down oxygen like you were starved of it.

You watched as he slipped his shirt over his head, dog tags jingling before resting on his sternum, his metal hand drifting down to unbuckle his belt. You took him in like he was a cold glass of water on a boiling hot day. He was the magic medicine to your ailment.

He wasted no time in pushing his jeans and briefs to the floor, his thick cock slapping against washboard abs. He was so much bigger than the toy you relied on, your brain fought with itself, wondering if you could even take a cock that size.

You’d come this far.

“How’d you want it pretty girl? Want me to fuck you like you are just now, on your hands and knees presented to me like a little slut. Maybe you want me to flip you over and pound you, let you watch me as I hit every little inch of that hot ‘mega cunt” he spoke, words dripping with lust.

“I don’t care please Alpha” You slipped, pushing your ass back to him, waving it enticingly as more slick dripped from your folds. You needed it now, none of the teasing.

“Alpha?” He questioned with a teasing smirk, sinking to his knees behind you and flipping you with ease onto your back.

Fuck looked beautiful all fucked out, your face wet with frustrated tears, your pupils so dilated you could barely see the colour. Your chest heaving causing your tits to bounce and that sopping pussy, pathetically clenching around nothing, silently begging for him to fill you, make you full with him and only him.

“What should I call you?” You blinked up at him, blushing lightly despite the fact you lay spread wide for him. You’d never called someone Alpha before, it just fell from your mouth in bliss. Insecurity bubbled up at the thought of maybe Bucky not wanting to be your Alpha, even for just a short period.

Your worries were all squashed when he lined his fat head up with your core, sinking fully in a single thrust.

“Alpha’s fine baby, now lemme fuck that omega brain dumb alright. You don’t gotta think anymore, your alpha will do that for you.”

Dominance radiated off him. The kind that made you want to submit, roll your head back and present your neck for him to mark, letting him claim you.

He slid out slowly, letting you feel every inch, every vein of his length until just his head remained buried inside you before he thrust forward again, his tip kissing your cervix.

His thrusts picked up at the sound of your heavenly sounds, your body arching up to meet him, to be as close to him as possible.

“Ohh fuck ‘mega, that pussy ain’t been fucked good in a long time huh, she’s sucking me back in, such greedy little cunt…so fucking tight…that’s alright though, your alpha’s got you now, won’t let that pussy go unsatisfied again” Bucky fell to his elbows, his nose bumping yours as you shared each other's air. Your legs spread underneath him as his hips pushed your thighs open further.

You couldn’t think. he was everywhere. A hand in your hair, his hot breath fanning over your face and neck, his dick filling you up. You were ruined for any other Alpha you just knew.

Sobs bounced off the walls, sounds you’d never heard before falling from your mouth. Your hands clung to him, wrapping around his back, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

Fuck you were so close, those coils tightening deep in your belly again, hot spikes of pleasure rolling up your spine, your cunt spewing your essence around him.

“Fuck ‘mega my fucking knots swelling already ohhh shit, my knot ain’t swelled this fast before” he laughed between guttural grunts, his teeth nipping your jawline.

“Mmmm Alpha” you heave, your pussy clenching him tightly.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna squirt around my fucking knot yeah? Oh fuck oh shit come on sweet omega, cum on my fucking dick.”

Your world went white when the swollen base of his cock pushed into you, stretching you wide, your preen stuck in your throat as your body convulsed with such an intense orgasm. Bucky rammed his whole weight into you a few more times before following suit, dumping his huge load inside your ruined cunt.

You don’t know when he rolled you over, his arms wrapping around you, your leg hooked over his hip. Your soft whines were the only indication that you hadn’t passed out, along with the look of sheer unbridled joy melting over your features. The softness and domestic nature of it all grounded Bucky. He didn’t feel regret like he thought he would, or guilt that he’d corrupted you

He felt at home.

“You did so good for me, pretty girl, don’t know anyone that’s taken my dick so good. Such a pretty little ‘mega” he praised, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Love you alpha” You forced despite your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth.

“I love you too princess, now get some rest alright? I’ll be here when you get up, then I’ll make you feel nice and good again.”

Bucky’s warm embrace and strong scent lulled you to sleep. A deep satisfied slumber that you hadn’t felt for months, a smile on your face.

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[coqvttes]

୨୧― 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧. 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

୨୧˚ synopsis : kento takes you out shopping for new lingerie for the day, and he just can’t help himself when you try it on for him.

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!nanami, p in v, fluff, petnames, creampie, soft sex, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc : 1.1k for anon's request <3

୨୧˚ taglist : @satinwithsilk , @luvv4evaabaemh !

“ohh! kento what about this one? there’s a little pink bow in the middle!”

you spin around to kento and hold the underwear for him to see, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly.

kento finds himself in a predicament when he feels his trousers tightening slightly. gosh, you make it so difficult for him to keep himself respectable when you look at him like that and bat your eyelashes at him, waving a pair of panties in his face.

he composes himself before he speaks.

“yes, very pretty. why don’t you put them in the basket, hm?”

a wide grin adorns your features as he holds the basket out for you and you drop them in there.

“thank you, ken!”

after many more credit card swipes and shopping bags that kento insisted on carrying for you, you find yourself spoilt rotten as drives home, shopping bags serviced in the backseat.

“did you have a nice time shopping, love?” he asks as he focuses on the road, sparing you a side glance with a gentle smile as you beam at him.

“mhm! thank you, kento, for all the nice things you got me.”

“that’s alright, baby, i just wanna spoil you a bit.”

he chuckles as his hand moves from the wheel to rest on your thigh, his thumb tenderly rubbing on your exposed skin. your hand moves on top of his to squeeze it appreciatively, and he glaces at you to offer you a handsome smile that makes your heart swoon.

but nanami can only play the gentleman for so long. once he gets you in the privacy of your bedroom, he’s all over you, coming up to you from behind, unbuttoning his navy blue shirt as you try on your new lingerie, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he dips his head down to trail wet kisses from your shoulder to your jaw.

he backs you up till your knees hit the edge of the bed, and he shrugs his shirt off, displaying his toned abdomen as you shuffle back into the bed, giving him room to climb onto you, his arms on either side of your head as he leans in close.

you smile as you pull him in for a kiss, your lips moving with his fervently before he’s slowly tugging the band of the panties to the side, his rough fingers ghosting over the wetness of your slit as you let out a soft sigh against his mouth.

a smile plays on his lips as he gauges your reaction, retreating his fingers to pull the leather of his belt out of the buckle before he unzips his trousers, pulling them down along with his briefs.

“you want it, baby?” he asks as his hand moves to pump himself a few times, lining himself up to your leaking entrance as he gazes into your eyes for consent.

“yes, please, kento." your words come out more desperate than you intended, but you don’t care; the want for him only increases with every moment that passes with him, not inside you.

you brace yourself as your palms fly to his broad shoulders, holding onto him as he pushes in slowly. a deep groan resonating from within his throat as his eyes squeeze shut, your warmth welcoming him as he bottoms out inside you.

after a moment of catching your breath and a nod from you, he slowly pulls out a little before plunging back into you. the feeling causing a soft moan to fall from your lips as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

he builds a slow pace, driving his pelvis into you as he holds your legs up from under your knees. your head falls back into the pillows as a knot begins to form within your core, one of his hands moving from the pillow to your sternum slowly sliding up before he slips his hand into your bra, groping your soft flesh.

his thumb rubbing over your nipple elicits a high-pitched whine from you as he leans down to swallow it greedily. he speeds up a little, not wanting to be rough but wanting to increase your pleasure.

“o-oh yes, kento!”

he pulls away, tenderly pressing kisses up your jaw to your ear, and his voice is deep and throaty as his lips ghost over your earlobe.

“mhmm? yeah?  that feel good, baby?”

your sweet noises only spur him on as your legs wrap tighter around him, pulling him flush against you as if he could get any closer.

you feel yourself sinking impossibly deeper and deeper into the mattress as he rolls his hips deliciously into yours. the pace is sensual and intimate as the room suddenly feels hotter.

he rests his forehead against yours as a sweaty strand of blonde hair falls over his cheekbones, framing his eyes as he gazes into yours. you reach up to move the hair out of his face, and he quickly takes the opportunity to lean down and capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss.

you let out a soft sigh as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping against yours in a passionate dance. his grip on the bedsheets tightens as he holds himself back from pounding into you mercilessly.

the knot in your tummy tightens as your whines become harder and harder to contain until you can’t anymore, your nails digging into his shoulders just the way he likes as you chant his name like a prayer.

within seconds, the knot comes undone and your body spasms in his arms as his pace doesn’t falter, chasing his own release before his hips begin to stutter. your back arches off the bed, pressing your breasts into his chest, only adding to his pleasure before he finally gets his release.

he lets out a guttural moan, and his warmth spills inside you as his hands tighten on your waist. shirt strands of hair falling onto his face as he catches his breath, letting out a deep chuckle as he catches you staring up at him with a lovesick smile.

when he pulls out, his cums spills out of you and gets all over your new underwear, and you whine as you look down.

“kento, these were brand new!”

“‘m sorry i ruined your new underwear, baby, i’ll get you a new one. don’t worry. i promise.”

he’ll just have to buy you another one, and you can try it on so he can ruin you them again. <3

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2024. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[hanasnx]

re-hash

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 0.9k WARNINGS: explicit sexual content | f!reader | established relationship | daddy kink | mild dacryphilia | size difference

JJ MAYBANK's no stranger to being called "daddy." It's practically one of the only things you wanna call him in bed, and something about it just hits. Maybe it's his own raging daddy issues, or the fact it signifies an authority figure, someone to look to. JJ likes calling the shots, and who better to call shots than Daddy? Before you'd introduced that petname to him, using it as a taunt was pretty common. In the midst of a fight, he'd tease his opponent with a little beckoning: "Tha's right, come to Daddy." If a variation was in order, he wasn't a stranger to switching it out for "Papa."

He didn't take into account how far it could go though. Addressing him as your daddy was commonplace, but while he's working on his bike, he gets introduced to something different.

"Pass me that, will you, duchess?" he asks, brows furrowed at the metal in concentration. He holds out his hand for you, and you walk while you read a little paperback book. The spine is weathered.

You hum confirmation, and toe over, plucking his tool from its location. Its hefty weight causes it to drop into his palm more than you meant to, but your focus is still on reading. "Here you go, pa."

He registers your words, and slows to a halt. Unlike him, you're invested in your story, index fingernail toying with your lip unconsciously. The crease in his brow deepens, tilting his head. "Uh," Looking at you through an eye because of the sun glare, upper lip raising to the corner of his nose like a curtain. "What was that, sugar?"

"Hm?" you question, raising your brows in question as you respond to his gaze with your own. "What'd I say?" You're not entirely sure what had occurred, the fresh words from your page still echoing in your mind.

"Called me 'pa.'" he reminds you, his twinge of southern twang apparent in his phrase. Unable to hold your eye contact, he glances down at the tool he fidgets with in his lap, picking off some dirt.

"I did?" In disbelief, you frown, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"

He shakes his head. Minutely disappointed you didn't double down. "No, s'fine. S'fine." He pouts his lips, and twitches his nose when he sniffs, scratching it with the back of his hand. "No big deal, sweet pea, I don't mind it." He returns to his bike.

Later on, he doesn't let you get away with playing dumb. "What was it that you called me earlier?" His arms shake with effort, holding himself over your head as his hips rock into you, your legs folded up on either side of him. "Huh? Duchess?"

"JJ!" you chide, but it comes out in a sultry whine, your body bobbing with his movements as his dick lodges all up in your insides. "What are you talking about?" There you go playing dumb, and he won't have it. Callused hand slots itself in the crook of your knee, hooking your leg over his shoulder to stretch you out. You yelp when his head hits a new and deeper angle inside you.

"Nah, nah, don't be like that." he snickers breathlessly. "What'd you call me earlier? Know you wanna say it. Lemme hear it, bae, c'mon," He goads you, and you can tell his accent is more defined at a time like this. It's mouth-watering. Or his long cock rearranging your insides is.

His blonde curls fall into your face as he looks down, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cry out each full sheath. Moans are practically shoved out of you, like there's no room to keep them inside when he buries himself to the balls in your little cunt. Worsening his pace, slapping skin on skin because you're not obeying him.

"JJ, it hurts! It hurts!" you sob, clutching onto the fabric of his side slit shirt he still wears. He pushes your hand off of him, picking himself up to sit on his knees. He tucks the hem of his top between his teeth, displaying his contracting abs as he gets into position. Briefly, you're granted a reprieve, but that's only because he's switching things up on you, slotting his hands under your hip bones to raise you, biceps swelling from the action. Desperately, you catch your ragged breath, until he handles you back onto his dick. He doesn't reintroduce you to inch after inch, no, he bottoms out straight away, plunging his length into you while yanking you into it. You thought it was hell before, now you're near tears, mindlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a breather.

He keeps his hardened concentration where your bodies conjoin, a ring of cream forming around his base, and he scoffs through his nose. You thrash, but you're spasming around him. "Guess this pussy can take some abuse, huh?" he asks rhetorically, muffled by the shirt between his teeth. "So squirmy. She's flexible, I'll give her that. How's about it, baby, wanna tell me now?"

You fist bangs against his forearm, taut from his hold on you, fingers digging into your flesh as you fight him. "Pa! Pa, please! Ugh, you're so mean!"

He drops his shirt so he can speak clearer, "Yeah, but your Pa fucks you good, huh? Right? Pa fucks you nice, and good." Deliberately, he rolls his abdomen, and in turn, pistoning his cock into you in way that has your lashes fluttering. His movements, forcing himself to be slow and steady, causes him to shake from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucks you. Your leg still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, and he feels your own tremble travel from your core to your toes. "Say it. Say it or I swear I'll tear you in two."

"You fuck me good, pa, you fuck me nice and good. Nobody does it like you, daddy, I swear."

[persicipen]

pearls ノ sunday

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.2k ノ fem reader — pussy slapping . teasing ノ in front of a mirror ノ sunday buys you gifts — a necklace ノ he’s a little tired but a freak anyway ノ ambiguous relationship . implied soft dom sub dynamic ノ petnames — darling . dearest . dove

The fingers that belong to the young family leader circle your nape, a feather-like touch despite his own wings taut along his locks, a silvery wave of silk falling on his shoulders. Although your new necklace is loose, pearls sitting lazily on your collarbones, it feels like a collar — a tight rope around your neck, squeezing hard every time you try to pull away from him and he brings you back with a stern tug of the invisible leash.

Sunday loves you, though, right? A lover that keeps you safe, forever excited about new gifts and everything he could do for you if only you had asked.

But you’re silent.

Obedient, the right word. That is true, he would enjoy seeing you break out of his rule, but he prefers you more so nice and quiet, always ready for his commands. He himself doesn’t know how would he react if you were to deny him. Would it spark a fury in him? A despair? Lust, even?

Doesn’t matter.

What matters now is that you’re smiling so dearly in the mirror, seeing yourself with a new jewellery, a shining set of pearls brought to you from Lushanka, the oceanic planet. An expensive proof of ownership, that is.

Gently pressing on his crotch, he knows that you crave only one thing right now — something he cannot give you, not when he’s so frustrated and pensive.

Next to you, there’s a broken shell of a man, eyes empty a worn-out dinner plate instead of a plate of gold. Constant meetings filling every system hour of his routine, nibbling at his humanity, piece by piece, devouring what’s left serene in him. But he always has time for you. You bring a sliver of solace into his day, the light in his life, and your soul is more important than any wealth, any political acquisition. He wants to be the perfect man for you — for now, at least when the family still allows him to have that tiny drop of freedom where he can do as he pleases, with whoever he wants to spend the time.

With the other hand, he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone, the reflection in the mirror immediately following his action, tilting your head to look at him. Your pupils are dilated, lips parted, a fine line of sweat rolling down your forehead as you take his form into your vision. You hold yourself still, making sure to not interrupt his moment of yearning. You feel pity, yes, but simultaneously, there is something dark seeping through your thoughts, whispering how you shouldn’t complain about the circumstances. Not whilst you’re being kept warm and pampered by one of the finest men in Penacony.

That’s correct. He’s not even yours, the richest young family leader, meant to be loved by many and to never have anyone truly on his side. People usually do admire him — for his wit, charisma, and some are very fortunate to be graced with his handsome face up close if They’re his personal retainers. But you? He wants something more from you. The unspoken desire woven into the thread that keeps the pearls in place around your neck.

“Aren’t you just my darling?” Sunday murmurs in a soothing manner as his eyes dart down your neck, brushing his fingers over the lustrous beads once again. “My gift looks divine on you. Are you feeling happy, my dearest?”

“The happiest I could ever be.”

He’s absolutely delighted to see how well you’ve grown used to being around him — his ever-changing moods that sometimes turn sour, and how much better you are than anyone else that isn’t family. But that is the problem.

Sunday’s hands tremble against your collarbones, pressing on them tight as if to brace you for something he has yet to tell you.

You want to reply, to let him know that you are delighted to be given such a precious gift. However, the collar wraps tighter around your throat, the fine edge digging into your skin. You can’t help but give out a whimper at the sudden tightness. It doesn’t take long for the young man to catch on the look of discomfort in your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as he releases the pressure on your neck. Instead, his fingers move further down, taking ahold of your nipple and giving it a slight pinch.

“I will take it that you love my gift. Very much,” he hums as he plays with your breasts, kneading them, and kissing along your jawline. His soft lips are so warm against your skin, it is almost relaxing until you feel something cold rubbing between your thighs.

Looking down, you can see his hand playing with the fabric of your panties, before his fingers find its way to the hidden clit, urging it to reveal itself with gentle strokes and caresses. In parallel, he begins to rub his crotch against your ass, wanting to give himself some form of relief until he’s done toying with your sensitive nub.

A tap. Catching you by surprise, his fingers patting flat against your flesh, parting the petals to deliver a proper spank to your pussy. In the sudden bloom of sensations, your body jolts forward, letting his hand dip further between your legs — making you open for another slap.

The salacious, squelching sounds have him clicking his tongue.

“Getting wet this urgently, yes? I’ve only just started touching you,” he whispers in your ear, the amusement apparent in his tone. “Are you perhaps a pervert, hm? Or did my sweet dove get so aroused just from looking at us in the mirror?”

Sunday slips a hand underneath the silk, gripping your inner thigh to stop you from closing your legs any further. While you aren’t really the type to get embarrassed by your own reactions, right now you can’t help but feel shame when you are met with his victorious smile as he values your beauty through the reflection.

“It’s alright, I love it when you get so worked up from the simplest things,” he chuckles before blowing a wisp of air into your earlobe. He doesn’t linger there for long and soon enough, he is peppering your neck with wet kisses, grazing your skin in a cordial manner.

It is known just how much you appreciate being spoiled with little affectionate gestures, melting with each and every token that the angelic lover grants you on every occasion.

Pulling his hand away from your core, he gives your panties one last pat, admiring how the damp fabric clings to your lips, illustrating your arousal.

“Did you know? Every pearl has a different kind of pattern and they are each unique,” he whispers before wrapping his fingers around your collar, his golden eyes staring into yours. “You’re the only one who will ever own a pair of pearls identical to these, my darling. Just like I own this one…” With that confession, his fingers pinch your clit through the silk, pulling it up to jab into your puffy cunt with the stretched underwear.

[dustydaddyyy]

sweetheart | joel miller x fem! reader

pairing: joel miller x fem! reader

summary: you're home from college for summer '99 to visit your parents, when your eye wanders upon their next-door neighbor, joel miller.

a/n: basically just porn with some plot that started at 2k and ended up becoming 13k. enjoy these 13k of unhinged depravity :)

warnings: (18+) SMUT (extended warning are under the cut), age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 32), swearing, mentions and consumption of alcohol, use of petnames (mostly sweetheart and one darling), probably inaccurate descriptions of the southern US, reader's mom is kind of annoying, reader kind of seduces joel (ish), neighbor!joel (is this a warning?) single dad! joel (what about this one?), reader babysits Sarah a few times

extended warnings: smut, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (pls in the name of the lord practice safe sex people), some (relatively tame) dry humping, couch sex, definitely some praise kink (we're moving on), for sure some soft!dom!joel, but also a pinch of dom!reader (👀), a lil cockwarming, maybe like a bit of a breeding kink if you really, really squint and i think that's it! please let me know if i've missed any. no use of y/n in this fic.

"Is this really how you're going to be spending your entire holiday?"

You bite back a groan as you look at your mom from where you'd been laying down on the lounge chair in the garden, book dropping from in front of your face so you can peer at her from behind your sunglasses.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask her, and she shrugs as she continues to water her rhododendrons.

"You've been home a week now," she tells you pointedly, "And you've sat more in that chair than I have all year,"

"I'm on break," you say matter of factly, "That's kind of the point," Your mum lets out a hum as she continues watering her flowers, which you ignore as you bring your book back up in front of your face. 

It's hot out in the Texas sun, almost too hot, but having come from the constant cold and rain in Seattle, you find yourself not caring too much as you bask in the sunlight. You're not wearing much, dressed only in a bikini top and pair of old shorts, that are maybe a touch too snug, but survived your parents' move from Galveston. They'd moved to Austin at the end of last summer for your father's new job. You hadn't been to the new house over Christmas, your parents having come up to visit Seattle for the holidays, instead. Austin and Galveston weren't such different cities, it was all still Texas, but the one thing you found yourself desperately missing, especially now in the heat, was the ocean.

Somewhere in one of the neighbouring gardens, the sound of a lawnmower being turned on fills the air. You ignore it, putting down your book for a second instead and watching as your mother shuffles over to the flowers lining the wooden fence which separates your neighbour's garden from yours.

"I'm getting a drink," you declare, swinging your legs over the side of the sun lounger, "Can I get you anything, Mom?"

"I'm alright," your mom says with a wave of your hand, and you nod, before turning on your heel and going inside to get your drink, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. The house is delightfully cool as you open the screen door. On your way to the kitchen you pass the living room, finding your dad passed out on the couch, fan on full blast and TV displaying the U.S. Golf Open.

You bite back a chuckle as you step into the kitchen, filling up a glass of water before chugging it down, wiping the rest off your chin, before filling it up again. You spend a couple of minutes leaning against your counter taking small sips, before your ears perk up at the sound of your mom's voice from the garden. It's faint, like she's talking to someone, and you frown slightly as you think about who she could be talking to, considering your dad is in no state to have conversation with anybody, right now. 

You shrug it off, taking a few more sips before you go back through the house the way you came, your mother's voice becoming clearer as her laugh floats through the screen door. The sun bears down on your face once more as you step back into the garden, your eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright light as you close the screen door behind you.

"–there you are, peanut! I was just telling Joel about you, come and say hi. . ."

"Goody," you mutter to yourself as the screen door clicks shut.

"­–you remember I told you about Joel, don't you, honey? He lives next door with his daughter, Sarah,"

You bite back a sigh, before plastering a smile over your face as you turn to the garden to meet another undoubtedly middle-aged, pot-bellied man.

Either way, you're not expecting the man standing by the wooden fence; he's pretty young, maybe early thirties, with dark, scruffy hair and an equally half-kept scruffy beard and mustache. He's a handsome man, with dark, warm eyes that scan your face and an angular jaw and nose.

"Sure, I remember" you let out, smiling at him sweetly, "Pleased to meet you,"

"Hello," he returns your greeting with a slight nod, and his voice is deep and gravelly, tinged with that telltale Texan accent, "Nice to finally meet you, your mom sure does talk about you a lot,"

You give him a dry, sarcastic smile, raising your brows slightly. "She sure does like to talk,"

Joel lets out a chuckling breath, corners of his mouth twitching in amusement as your Mom rolls her eyes.

"Always so dry, that one," she comments, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you sit back down on the sun lounger.

"Your mom said you were home from college for the summer. . . How long you visiting for?" Joel says with a clear of his throat.

You go to open your mouth as Joel waits patiently for your answer, but your mom beats you to it. "Until about mid-August. . . good to have her home, she hadn't been down here at the new house since we moved, you see. . ."

Joel's gaze lingers on you for a second before his eyes turn back to your mother, whose animated conversation you tune out, as you pull your sunglasses back down onto your nose, and pick your book back up, stretching your bare legs over the lounger. 

Your mind is anywhere but the book, however, and you make sure to hold it at such an angle that you can still peer over the spine, eyes shamelessly rolling over Joel's form from behind your sunglasses. He's wearing an old, dark green t-shirt that's covered in white paint splatters and looks like it's several sizes too small, but you don't find yourself complaining as your eyes linger over the bulge of his biceps under the shirt, broad chest stretching out the faded logo on the front. Your eyes travel down his torso to the shorts he's wearing, and you're pretty grateful for your sunglasses because you find your gaze lingering down from his belt to his zipper, material bulging slightly outwards­–

"­–Peanut can do it, can't you darling? She's real good with kids,"

Your mom's voice startles you out of your philandering thoughts, and eyes, and you pretend to look up from your book, heart skipping in your chest for a second as the idea that you'd just been checking out your parents' ridiculously attractive neighbor .

"Huh?" you let out, rather dumbly, lowering the book, and your mom makes an impatient noise.

"Joel's sitter called in sick and we've gotta be at the Council meeting after dinner," she explains, "You can watch Sarah for a couple of hours, can't you?"

"Uh–" you struggle to find your words for a second as Joel looks at you, before he puts up his hand in a reassuring gesture.

"Don't worry," he ensures you, shaking his head, "I ain't going to interrupt your evening plans, they don't need me at the council meeting, anyway–"

"Plans!" your mom says through a surprised chuckle, shaking her head "She doesn't have any, don't you worry," 

"Thanks, mom," you grumble under your breath, and again you watch as the corners of Joel's mouth twitch in held back amusement at your comment, before you clear your throat and nod, offering him a tentative smile, "Sure, I'm happy to help,"

"You sure?" he asks, and you nod, "It's just a couple hours, I'll be back before ten,"

"No worries, I can do that. . . uh–. . . how old is Sarah?" you ask, cringing slightly at the fact that you don't know, but Joel doesn't seem offended.

"She's eight," he informs you, and you nod again, "But don't worry, it won't be much work. . . she usually only stays up a couple of hours after dinner and then crashes,"

"Yeah, no problem," you reassure him, smiling slightly, and Joel gives you a grateful look. 

"Perfect! She'll be over after dinner, then," your mom beams, and he nods, clearing his throat.

"Thanks a lot, you're doing me a real favor," he comments, but something in Joel's tone tells you he would've rather stayed home with his daughter than attended a 3-hour long community council meeting chaired mostly by the middle-aged ladies of the neighborhood,

"No worries," you tell him with another sweet smile, and Joel's eyes linger on your face for a second, before he clears his throat, wiping his hands on his shorts and looking back at your mom. "Right. . . gotta get back to this lawn, but I'll see you both later, then,"

"See you later, Joel," your mom beams, and you give one more saccharine 'bye' in his direction before he disappears back into his garden. The minute she hears the lawn mower turn back on, your Mum comes to sit on the edge of your sun lounger.

"He's nice, isn't he?" she says, and you give an affirmative hum as you continue reading, "Handsome, too. . .been living out here 5 years,"

"Interesting," you say, and your voice sounds far from interested, but your mom doesn't pay it any attention as she continues.

"No wife, though. . . Betty said he's just raising Sarah on his own, has been his whole life. . . she thinks the wife ran away, or something, one of these nutjobs that abandons their own child–"

"Mom," you interrupt, putting your book down as you tip your glasses down your nose and give her a look, "You shouldn't be gossiping about this,"

You mom looks guilty for a second, before she purses her lips haughtily, getting back to her feet. "You're right, I suppose. . . well, either way, we gotta do what we can to help him out, don't we? Can't imagine it's easy being a single parent,"

"I'm sure it isn't," you comment, before you close your book with a small smack, deciding that reading in the vicinity of your mother is going to be impossible, "I'm gonna head back in. . . grab a shower, before dinner,"

"Sure, peanut," your mom says with a nod, before she redirects herself back to pruning the rosebush.

You make your way back inside the house, past your dad in the living room and up the carpeted stairs to your bedroom. It's not decorated exactly the way your old one in Galveston used to be, but it still has your old bed and dresser, and your mom has hung a couple of paintings you did when you were in middle school on the walls. You drop your book on the dresser, letting out a sigh as you walk over to the window to open it and let some air in.

Your room is on the left side of the house, closest to the neighbor's garden, and as your fingers grip the edge of the window to pull it up, they stall as your eye falls on Joel as he mows his lawn. Your eyes widen slightly as you see that Joel's isn't wearing the olive-green shirt anymore, having instead discarded it in a heap on one of his faded deck chairs, leaving him in nothing but those shorts. You watch as the sun glistens on his sweat-drenched skin, accentuating every contour of the muscular physique that had been hidden away by his t-shirt earlier.His strong arms flexing as he grips the lawnmower's handle, his movements deliberate and confident. The rhythmic sound of the engine fills the air, blending with the gentle breeze and the sounds of the kids three houses up playing in their pool. He moves with a surprising grace, a sensuality even in such a mundane task as his forehead creases with effort and focus.

You're almost mesmerised as you lean in closer, breath fogging against the glass of your window. He stops for a second, hand coming up to wipe some sweat from his brow, and in that split second he looks up, hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight, almost directly at you. You fumble slightly with the windowsill, eyes quickly moving away as you push the window up and open, pretending not to see him and fussing with your curtains, instead. Your eyes move back down for a split second, heart pounding in your chest at the idea he may have caught you staring at him, but Joel is already focusing on his lawn mower again, continuing on his way across his garden. 

"It's open, come on in!" comes a shout from inside the Miller house as you stand in front of their screen door, and you push it open gingerly.

Stepping across the threshold, the first thing that catches your eye is the haphazard mix of shoes strewn under the coat hook, ranging from Size 9 boots crusted with mud to a pair of bright pink trainers with glitter laces. The house isn't much different from yours. The stairs to the second floor are in the same place as your parents to the right of the hallway which you assume continues into the living room and kitchen. The wall is decorated with a mix of children's drawings, a few faded posters and various pictures of Joel and a young girl with curly black hair and a beaming smile.

"Sarah, where's my watch?" Joel's voice echoes from upstairs through the hall, and there's hurried steps on the landing upstairs, "I told you to stop playing with that thing!"

"I didn't take it. . . It's in your dresser drawer," comes another voice, a young girl's, from upstairs. There's the sound of thundering steps as someone hurries down the stairs, and you look up from where you'd been taking off your shoes to be faced with the young girl from the photos. She's older, but the smile is unmistakable as she stops three steps short of the ground, grinning brightly at you.

"Hi!" she lets out, and you give her a cautious smile.

"Hey there," you return, trying to keep your tone from being awkward, "I live next door,"

"Dad told me," she says with a nod, "He's almost ready, he gets really scatterbrained when he's in a hurry is all,"

"It's no problem. . . so do I," you say with a chuckle, and her smile widens as she contemplates you.

"You're really pretty," Sarah blurts suddenly, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Sarah," comes Joel's voice from the top of the stairs before you can open your mouth and respond, "That doesn't sound like it's any of your business, now does it?"

Joel cleans up nice. Gone are the faded t-shirt and frayed shorts, and they've been replaced with a pair of dark jeans and a plaid blue short-sleeved button down, albeit still wrinkled in some places. His hair still looks damp, and either Joel forgot to run a comb through it or he just doesn't care enough, because his curls are an unruly mess on his head, but it suits him. He's fastening a watch on his wrist as he comes down, and it takes a decent amount of willpower not to let your eyes run across the length of his muscular arm as it flexes with effort.

"It's alright, Mr. Miller, I don't mind," you say with a slight laugh as Joel hurries down the stairs, Sarah jumping the last few steps ahead of him. At your use of his last name, his head snaps up suddenly, eyes boring into yours.

"Joel," he corrects almost immediately, his voice soft but with a sharp undertone, before he grimaces, "Please. . . Mr. Miller makes me feel. . . old,"

"You are old," Sarah teases, before she turns back to you, "So do you?"

"Have a boyfriend?" you ask her, and she sighs, rolling her eyes.

"Duh,"

"I don't right now, no," you say, chuckling slightly.

"Oh," Sarah sounds put out, her eyebrows knitting into a frown, "Why not?"

Joel lets out a tutting sound as he stops a few steps away from you, slipping his feet into a pair of shoes hastily.

"Sarah, enough," he chides her, giving his daughter a look, "Go and do something else rather than harass your babysitter,"

"I'm eight," she grumbles, "Don't even need a babysitter. . . you're just grouchy because you have to go to the community meeting and hang around all the old biddies,"

"Sa-rah," Joel hisses pointedly at his daughter, giving her a glare, but you laugh, shaking your head.

"I don't blame him, I'm not a huge fan of the old biddies myself," you tell Sarah jokingly, wiggling your eyebrows at her, "Besides, a handsome man like your dad? I'm sure they stick to him like flies in a honey trap,"

Sarah lets out a giggle, her nose scrunching. "Oh, they love him,"

"Okay, alright," Joel says with a roll of his eyes as he grabs his keys off the small table in the entrance hall, "You're both being very funny. . . Sarah, why don't you go do the dishes in the sink you were supposed to do half an hour ago instead of standing here talking smack,"

You chuckle slightly as Sarah giggles again, before she darts off down the hallway to what you assume in the kitchen.

"Right, okay. . . she's had dinner already, there's some ravioli in the fridge if you get hungry, there's beer if you want–" Joel stops midway through his sentence, his brows knitting together as he regards you, "Hold on, can you even have beer?"

"I'm twenty-two, Joel," you say with a half-sarcastic, half-reassuring smile, nodding, "I can have beer,"

Joel's face doesn't change for a split-second as he seems to process this, before mouth opens into a nervous chuckle as he stuffs his keys in his back pocket. "Right, makes sense, sorry. . . uh–. . . that's it, right? My number's on the landline speed dial if anything happens, and I'll be home before 10,"

"Got it," you say with a nod, "Enjoy what I'm sure will be an absolutely riveting meeting about the neighborhood lawn maintenance standards,"

Joel grimaces, before chuckling dryly. "I'm sure I won't,"

You give a giggle as he steps towards the screen door, opening it up.

"See you later," he says, and you nod. 

"Bye," you say in a honeyed tone, and you watch him walk down the walkway towards his truck. Your eyes follow him as he gets in the car, feeling something pool in your lower belly just at the sight of him. Then, Sarah's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"You coming?"

Turns out, Joel's babysitter ends up being sick for a lot longer than he'd anticipated, which means you end up spending a lot more of your days and evenings in the Miller household than you anticipated doing this summer.

It does nothing but encourage your growing attraction to Joel, like adding kindling to an ever-growing fire with every second you spend in his presence, and after two weeks of babysitting Sarah a few nights and a few afternoons, you feel yourself start to get bolder.

You're braver with your touches, the occasional light brush of your fingers against his arm becoming more deliberate, hands lingering during a conversation or shared moment of laughter. You've noticed that Joel reacts to you, as well, albeit in a much more restrained way, but it does nothing to deter you.If anything, his restraint only encourages you to push further, a little more each time. It's like a challenge, and shit, do you enjoy a challenge.

It's Wednesday evening, and you're in the entrance house of the Miller house again, kicking off your shoes as you hear Joel move around upstairs.

"Hello!" you shout into the house, and almost immediately you hear Sarah's footsteps race through the corridor, before she comes tearing around the corner. When she catches sight of you, more specifically what you're wearing, she lets loose a screech of excitement.

"You look so good!" she lets out in a squeal, her feet stomping on the spot as she looks at you, "He isn’t going to know what to do with himself,”

“Yes, thank you, if you could keep your voice down about it that would be great,” you tell her as you take off your coat, giving her a look, and she giggles. 

“He’s too busy running around the house getting ready to eavesdrop,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “When are you going to meet him?” 

“Don’t know yet,” you return in a mockery of her dreamy tone, before rolling your eyes, “I’m here watching you first, he’ll come pick me up after,”

Sarah’s eyes shine with excitement. “You mean I get to see him?” 

“You better be in bed snoring when that happens missy,” you tell her, your hands coming to your hips as you give her a stern look. 

“Who better be in bed when what happens?” comes Joel’s voice as he appears at the top of the stairs, before hurrying down like he always does. This time, however, as he’s fastening his watch strap, his eyes momentarily move expectantly onto Sarah. 

“Nothing, Dad,” Sarah lies surprisingly well, “Just that I’d better be in bed by the time you get home,” 

“Which won’t be very late, by the way, probably around te–” Joel’s voice stalls in his throat as his gaze falls on you, and his eyebrows fly up his forehead, “What are you all dolled up for?”

He’s not wrong that you’d gotten dolled up for the evening, but it wasn’t for babysitting; you were having drinks with someone you knew through a friend later, after babysitting. 

“It’s part of my very elaborate plan to seduce you,” you say simply, shrugging innocently but corners of your mouth pulled into the beginnings of a smile. 

There’s a split second of silence where Joel’s eyes widen slightly, before Sarah bursts into laughter, and a full smile starts spreading over your features. 

“Well I gotta say you’re failing pretty desperately, then,” Joel counters, and Sarah breaks into another round of laughter as your jaw falls open in shock and almost theoretical offense.

“You jacka–” you stop yourself, suddenly very aware of Sarah’s younger ears as you hold in your swear, pressing your lips together into a grudging smile, and it makes Joel chuckle slightly as he gets to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Careful. . . little ears are listening,” he says the last part in an airy voice as he passes you by, and you scoff, shaking your head. 

“Sarah, please go away so I can call your dad a name,” you tell her after a second of silence, and Joel lets out a sound of protest as he puts on his shoes, Sarah laughing again before she dutifully turns on her heel and runs back down the hall. 

When she’s gone, you turn to Joel, leaning slightly towards him to ensure he hears you. 

“Jack–ass,” you enunciate, and he nods with a smirk. 

“You started it,” 

“Sarah told me you have a date,” you say, smiling, “You sure it’s only going to be 10?” 

“Once again, my eight-year-old shares my business with the entire world,” 

“I’m not the entire world, I’m me,” you chime in, and Joel snorts. 

“It’s not that kind of date,” 

“Oh,” you let out, making a small grimace of disappointment, “Boring,” 

“Thanks,” Joel says with a dry smile, and you make another face, this one apologetic. 

"How do I look?" he asks you, holding his arms out semi-nervously, and you bite back a smile.

"Very pretty," you say half-seriously, and he rolls his eyes at you.

"You're funny," he tells you, pointing a finger at you and shaking his head, "Alright, I think I'm off then,"

With that, Joel goes to turn on his heel, but suddenly he feels your fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling gently.

"Joel, wait," you let out through a breathy laugh, taking a few steps forward so you're standing in front of him suddenly, your fingers releasing his wrist. Joel goes stiff, but you don't notice as you bring your hands up, one falling on his shoulder gently and the other moving towards his face, before he feels your thumb swipe over the edge of his jaw, "You've got­ shaving cream–. . . there you go,"

Joel's eyes watch your face as you chuckle slightly, before you tut as your eyes fall to his shirt, corners on your mouth twitching upwards into the beginning of a smile.

"–and your collar's crooked," you say, your hands moving to straighten out the lapels of his shirt, letting out a chuckle, your voice a little lower and a little deeper than Joel's ever noticed before, ". . jesus Joel,"

When you're satisfied with the correct shape of his shirt collar, your eyes move from his jaw to find him staring down at you. You're suddenly very aware of Joel; how close he's standing, the way his eyes are trained on yours, lingering, the way he smells. He smells really good, a mix of sandalwood aftershave and ––

You can't help yourself as you sniff the air, before your eyebrows crease slightly, eyes full of sudden question. "Do. . . do you smell like strawberry?"

You watch as Joel's cheeks color a slight pink, lips pursing with an expression as if he's been made, "I ran out of shower gel. . . had to use Sarah's,"

Your lips press together and Joel can tell you're trying desperately not to smile, but he can see the laughter in your eyes as you look up at him, twinkling with amusement.

"Very manly," you manage to bring out, giving him a teasingly reassuring smile, and for the first time that evening Joel's shoulders deflate of tension as he lets out a laughing scoff, shaking his head and looking away, smirk growing on his lips as he hears you start to laugh.

"You are a mean woman, you know that?" he tells you, and for the first time, you hear something in Joel's tone, something. . . friendlier. It’s teasing, almost flirty.  

"I was joking," you let out with a chuckle on your own as he turns back to laugh at you, raising a single eyebrow as his eyes meet yours.

"Didn't sound like you were joking, sweetheart," he says, and you feel something in your stomach at the sound of the nickname rolling over his lips. 

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you tell him, sarcastically, and when you find yourself looking into his eyes a split second longer than you should, you swallow, pulling your hands away from his face, and taking a step back. 

"Thanks," he says, clearing his throat as he steps towards the screen door.

"Anytime," you say, giving him a smooth, playful smile, covering up the moment of tension that passed between you just now, "You look great, Joel. . . she's a lucky woman,"

He gives a little scoff, raising his brows slightly. "I'll be back by ten,"  

“I believe you,” you tell him sarcastically as he steps over the threshold, “Bye, Joel,”

Joel is late. 

Only by half an hour. You’d already texted the guy you were meeting to tell him it would be later and that you’d keep him in the loop, but that doesn’t stop you making sure all your things are ready to go already an hour before Joel even gets home. It’s 22:34 when his keys sound in the front door, 20 minutes after he’d sent a one-word text that he was on his way back, and you’re sitting on the couch watching a rerun of the Wire. 

You look up as Joel walks in.

“Hi,” you let out in a softer voice as you sit, pulling your denim jacket off the couch armrest, “How was it?” 

You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes run over the exposed skin of your shoulders and chest in your thin-strapped dress for a small moment before he looks back up at you and gives a nod. 

“Nice,” he tells you, and you nod with a smile, pulling the jacket on and getting up off the couch, “Did Sara behave?” 

“No complaints,” you say with a laugh, “Kid’s an angel,” 

Joel smiles slightly as he nods, before he watches you grab your bag, which had been lying by the couch and sling it over your shoulder, “You headed home?” 

You stifle a small yawn, before smiling with a shake of your head. “No, I’m headed into downtown. . . meeting someone for drinks,” 

“You should’ve told me!” Joel lets out in surprise, eyes widening slightly, and you chuckle softly, waving him off. 

“It’s really fine, he can wait a half hour,” 

“How are you getting downtown? Do you need a ride?” he offers, but you shake your head, before you pull your phone out of your back pocket to look at the plastic display. 

“I’ve got one,” you say, and your voice is almost a little timid, as though being picked up by your date from Joel’s was somehow more embarrassing than at your own house. 

“He picking you up?” Joel asks, and you nod. 

As if on cue, a set of headlights flash through the living room window as a car pulls up on the side of the curb on the opposite side of the street. 

“Do you need me again this week?” you ask, looking back at Joel from where you’d watched the car pull up. Joel shakes his head. 

“Don’t think so,” he comments, before his brow creases for a split second, “But try not to get abducted on your date, I’d like to keep the option open,” 

“I’ll try not to,” you reply through a knowing chuckle, before walking past him towards the front door, hand on the knob. 

“If I suddenly stop answering texts, call the police,” you say half-jokingly, and Joel turns to give you a look and points his finger at you as you open the door. 

“That isn’t funny,” he tells you in a half-serious tone, and you snicker once more before you step over the threshold. 

“Goodnight, Joel,” 

Joel watches you walk down the front path, denim jacket pulled tightly over your shoulders against the evening chill, legs bare under your dress. He watches you get in the car parked on the curb, greeting whoever is driving with the same blinding smile you sometimes give him, and Joel feels something rear up slightly in his chest. It’s like a shock through his body, and he averts his eyes as the car drives off, shuffling back into his living room with a mild frown on his face as he pulls out his mobile. It's a cheap, battered Nokia model that Joel doesn't use enough to replace.

You’ve barely turned the curb when your own phone buzzes, and you pull it out of the pocket of your jacket. 

from: joel. 10:39 PM  

pls call if getting murdered 

You can’t stop the slight chuckle that falls over your lips, and it makes the guy driving you look over, giving a tentative grin. “What’s funny?” 

“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head with a smile as you type a reply, “Just something stupid,” 

to: joel 10:40 PM

i’ll try my best

You don't see Joel for the rest of the week, which is really only a few days if you think about it.

You hear his truck, the sound of his deep voice floating through the Miller's open back doors and windows as he hollers through the house for Sarah or Tommy, you can even hear them come up their front driveway if you're in the living room, but you don't see him.

You haven't seen Joel, and yet you think you're going a little crazy, because you're still thinking about him.   

You don't know what's consuming you, but every time you hear him around the neighborhood, your thoughts redirect to him, to your interactions. . . and then your mind starts to wander. . . you think about how his hands might feel running over your body, gripping the dips of your hips, how it would feel to kiss him, trace your lips over the curves of the muscles in his chest–

"Kiddo, you still with me?"

Your dad's voice interrupts your train of thought, and your mind returns to the present situation, which is you putting the plates your dad is handing you in the dishwasher.

"Hm?" you return, and your Dad chuckles.

"What's got you so deep in thought, hm? You've been absent all day,"

You give a shrug, taking the plate he's handing you and leaning over to slot it into the dishwasher. "It's nothing Dad. . . just thinking about my book,"

"Since when is book code for boys?" your dad chuckles, and your eyes widen as you look at him, thinking you've been made.

But how the hell could he know what you'd been thinking?

"What?" you bring out, and your dad smiles knowingly.

"You've been like this ever since you went out for those drinks," he tells you, raising an eyebrow, "You may be older, but you're still my little girl. . . I can read you like a book,"

You make a note of how happy you are that your dad can't actually read your thoughts like a book, because you're pretty sure if he could he'd be shipping you off to a convent right about now.

You give a small smile. "You got me,"

You figure it's easier to explain you've been thinking about some guy you'd had three drinks with and never plan on calling again instead of confessing to your dad that last night you'd had the possibly dirtiest dream about the very man he likes to invite over for monthly poker nights.

"You seein’ him again tonight?" your dad asks, and you shake your head with a chuckle.

"No," you say pointedly, "Tonight it's just me and some friends,"

"Alright," your dad says with a nonchalant raise of his hands, before your eyes fall on the clock hanging on the wall.

"I should be going soon, actually," you say, and your dad nods, "Laura said she'd be by around eight thirty–"

At that precise moment, you hear a honking noise from the street, and as you peer through the window, you see Laura's fern green Toyota Corolla parked on the curb in front of your house. 

"That's my cue," you say with a smile, before grabbing your purse from the dining table and leaning in to kiss your dad on the cheek, "See you later, dad,"

"Have fun honey," your dad says, and as you walk to the door of the kitchen, he adds, "If you need a ride home, call me, alright?"

"I will," you holler over your shoulder, before you step through the corridor and swing the door open.

It's somewhere after 8:30 PM, and the sun has only just started setting in the sky. It's mid-July, so it's still warm out, but you find that the evening heat and humidity is a little less oppressive than during the day. Nevertheless, you're not wearing anything but the silk slip dress you'd had on all day, deciding not to bring a cardigan at the last minute, guessing you’d be fine.

Laura honks again as you step out of the door, and as you make your way towards her car, she leans out the driver's seat and whistles. "Well hello there, hot stuff!"

You let out a laugh, shaking your head and your cheeks burning slightly as you wave her off. You'd met Laura at college in Seattle; you'd been in the same statistics class, and it had been pure chance when you'd become friends after you'd pointed out her Texas Longhorns shirt, which had led to you telling her your parents had just moved to Austin from Galveston, which happened to be where Laura was from.

"Shut up," you tell her jokingly as you pull open the car door, before getting in, "How are you doing?"

Laura is a short girl, with fair, freckle dotted skin and hair the color of rust. Her usual chartreuse green eyes are hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, and she gives you a smirk as she tilts her head down, giving you a look over them.

"All good here, doll," she says, before pushing her sunglasses up her forehead into her hair, "How was your day?"

"Good," you say with a nod, before you watch as Laura's eyes shift to something over your shoulder, eyebrows creeping up her forehead.

"Is that your neighbor?" she asks, and you turn in your seat to look at where she's staring, "You never told me he looked like that!"

True enough, Joel is standing in his driveway talking to Tommy, who's leaning out of the window of his truck, cigarette between his lips. He's wearing those same ratty beige shorts you've come to know so well, and a grimy grey t-shirt covered in black grease marks, undoubtedly from working in the garage all day. He still looks good, despite the sweat and the grime, shirt hugging his biceps and chest in just the right way and hair mussed on his head.

"It's criminal," you mutter, and Laura laughs, before you watch as the Miller's front door flies open and Sarah bounds down the path, purple backpack slung over shoulder.

"That his daughter? The one you babysit?" Laura asks, and you hum in agreement, "Jesus. . .who knew they made daddies so yummy, these days,"

"Maybe we shouldn't be staring," you realize suddenly, very aware of the fact that Joel could move his head any minute and spot you ogling him. He's probably already noticed you when Laura had honked at you from the front door.

"Hey, it is my human right to stare at your hot neighbor," Laura defends, before giving you a look, "You tried anything with him yet?"

"Laura!" you let out, trying to act as though you hadn't been flirting with Joel for the better part of two weeks, but she doesn't buy your tone, and lets out a full laugh.

"I knew it!" she says, shaking her head again with a smirk, "I can't blame you, doll. . .anything?"

"No," you say pointedly, "I mean, maybe. . . probably not,"

At that precise moment, you hear a call of your name, and your eyes widen to watch Sarah giving you an enthusiastic wave from where she's half-way into the passenger seat of Tommy's truck. You try not to look too guilty as you wave back at her, eyes shifting to Joel for a second only to find him looking at you with a half-amused smile. Laura gives another short honk and waves herself as your eyes shift quickly back to Sarah, before chuckling to herself, polite smile plastered on her face, "He's looking at you,"

"Drive, please," you mutter back through your smile, and she snorts as you turn back to her.

"You ready to have some fun?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows, and you giggle, humming.

"As long as it involves a significant amount of drinking, I'm happy," you tell her, and she laughs loudly.

"Trust me," Laura says with a chuckle, before turning back to front and shifting the gear, foot stepping on the gas, "I know just the place,"

To give Laura credit, the bar is fun.

It isn't too busy, nor too empty, and the music is good, at just the right volume to have a conversation without having to yell.

You're about three beers in, one of which was paid for by one of the two guys that had sidled up to you and Laura about half an hour ago. They were cute enough, and Laura seemed pretty taken with the one she was talking with, but your conversation was not nearly as riveting and you quickly felt your mind drifting.

Joel had been floating through your thoughts for the past few days, and seeing him earlier had lit something electric in you; he seemed to occupy your brain like a parasite, thoughts never straying far from his face, his lips, his arms–

Joel (?!)

You feel something like a jolt pass through you as your eyes register his familiar face, and you blink a few times to assure yourself it's him. But he is there, it isn't a figment of your imagination, he's standing on the other end of the bar by one of the tall tables, and he's looking at you.

You feel your cheeks start to burn as a bashful smile overtakes your features, and you look away from him with laughter in your eyes as you turn back to the guy talking sitting opposite you.

"I'll be right back," you tell him, your smile changing slightly but your voice staying honeyed and soft, "I'm getting another beer,"

"Okay," he says, looking almost a little relieved, and you bite back a smile at the fact that the poor dude is probably just as bored as you are wing manning his friend, and jumping at a chance to disrupt the semi-awkward silence.

You get up from your seat, grabbing your almost empty glass and making a beeline for the bar. From the corner of your eyes, you think you see Joel moving as well, but you don't look his way as you give the bartender a smile, setting your glass down.

"Can I have another, please?" you ask him, and he nods as he takes your empty glass from you.

Then, to your left, someone clears their throat, and you turn to find Joel standing there, giving an amused smile.

"Hello," he tells you with a chuckle, and you press your lips together in a bashful smile as you nod.

"Hi, Joel," you tell him, chuckling slightly, "Long time no see,"

"I know," Joel muses, setting his own glass down, "Was wondering when I'd run into you like this,"

When, not if.

"Didn't think you were much of a bar person," you comment, and Joel's brows raise slightly.

"You makin' assumptions?" he asks you, and you shrug, making a joking grimace.

"Just sayin', Joel," you reply, and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into the beginning of a smirk. 

Your conversation interrupts for a second as the barman sets down your drink, and you pay for it. Then, you turn to Joel, beer in hand.

“Well, I'm going to enjoy my beer, which I can have," you say, your tone a joking reference to earlier.

"Yeah, yeah. . . what gets me is that you only think you've been made now," Joel says with a subtle raise of his brow.

"Oh?" you let out, and the corners of Joel's mouth twitch upwards into that smirk again.

"Sweetheart, I've been watching you all evening,"

Oh.

The moments his words reach your ears you feel something sending a small shockwave through your system, and your thighs involuntarily clench, which you try to cover it up with a small scoff.

"Guess I'm not as subtle as I initially thought," you mutter, and Joel lets loose a soft chuckle as he shakes his head.

"I've seen you throw back like 4 beers already, aren't you starting to feel it a little?" he jokes, and you scoff.

"This is my fourth, so no,” you say pointedly, before you press your lips together in a second of silence, "Okay I may be starting to feel it,"

"Alright," he says with a laugh and a raise of his eyebrows, before he finishes the beer at the bottom of his glass, setting it down on the bar next to you when he's done.

"You let me know when you want to go home," he informs you, and your brow creases into a frown as you stand up a little straighter.

"What?” you ask him, and Joel gives you a look, "Joel, no–. . . I'm a big girl. I came here on my own just fine, I can find my way home,"

"I'd still feel better if it were me taking you home," Joel replies in a tone that makes it clear he isn’t going to argue about it, and you suppress a sigh as you feel a shiver run down the back of your neck at his words.

Christ, this man had you in his grip. 

"This is sort of ridiculous. . . I'm an adult, you know," you tell him eventually, and he gives you a dry smile.

"Indulge me, sweetheart,"

He's been a lot more liberal with the nickname lately than you think he's ever been, and it does something to you; every time it falls over his lips, your heart skips and your breath falters, leaving you scrambling to act completely normal about it.

"Fine," you give in, shaking your head with an eye roll, before you push off of the bar, your fourth drink in hand, "But I wouldn't wait around, Joel,"

Joel does wait around, and rightly so, because after another two hours, you've had enough.

You're not quite drunk, but you find that the alcohol you have drunk is not combining well with the exhaustion of a bad nights' sleep. Laura's been talking to the same guy who'd been by your table for about two hours, and even though his friend had tried chatting you up again, you'd been too distracted by Joel standing on the other side of the bar to be even remotely interested in what he was saying. Finally, you decide to bite the bullet.

"I'm sorry," you tell the guy with a small smile, before putting a hand on Laura's arm, who is deep in conversation with the other guy, "I think I'm headed home,"

"You all right?" she asks immediately, and you nod with a small smile.

"Yeah, just exhausted. . . lack of sleep catching up to me a little," you tell her, and she nods.

"Alright, I'll take you home," she says with a nod, reaching for her purse but you shake your head, giving her arm a squeeze.

"No, no! You stay here and have fun. . . Joel offered me a ride home," you tell her, and you watch as she bites back a smile, raising an eyebrow as her eyes quickly flick over to the bar to look for him.

"Okay," she says knowingly as she looks back at you, before she tries to cover up her smirk, "Get home safe, doll,"

“You too,” 

You excuse yourself, and spot Joel leaning across the bar slightly, saying something to the bartender over the music, not immediately noticing as you walk to him. He only turns to look at you as he feels your fingers graze his arm lightly to get his attention.

"So," you say, your tone joking, "You still want to get out of here?"

To your surprise, Joel's mouth twitches into an amused smile at the double-entendre, which makes you smile slightly, and nods.

"Sure," he says with a knowing look, before he finishes off the rest of his beer, setting it down and saying goodbye to the bartender. He turns to you, pushing off the bar and motioning wordlessly for you to walk ahead, which you do. As you step through the thinning crowd of people in the bar, you swear you can feel Joel's fingers graze the small of your back, but the minute you notice, they're gone again.

The minute you step outside, you shiver slightly, and Joel frowns at you as you walk towards his car. 

"Didn't you bring a sweater?"

You shake your head. "It wasn't this cold when I left. . . besides, I left my usual cardigan on your couch, I think,"   

Joel had only noticed it the next morning, when he'd been sitting in front of the TV with his coffee and suddenly his nose had filled with the smell of you, which had startled him, until he'd spotted your cream cardigan stuffed unceremoniously in the corner of the couch.

Joel gives a hum as you reach the car, and you waste no time getting in the passenger seat, the car offering little extra warmth. Joel gets in, and for a second there's silence as he fastens his seatbelt and puts the key in the ignition, starting the car.

"Sarah at Tommy's tonight?" you ask him, and he hums as he puts the car in reverse, arm coming against the side of your headrest as he turns to look behind him. You feel something flutter in you as your gaze falls on the side of his face, but his eyes remain focused on behind him, oblivious to his effect on you.

"She's at a sleepover," he tells you, "Tommy just took her there,"

You nod in understanding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you process this information, and finally Joel turns back to the wheel as he pulls out onto the road, eyes crossing yours furtively.

"Thanks for taking me, by the way," you say, and Joel nods, "Didn't mean to put an end to your night,"

"No problem, sweetheart. . . it was getting kind of stuffy in there, anyway," he tells you, and you chuckle lightly, before you turn to look out of the window.

"Spoken like a true old man," you say, under your breath, but Joel obviously still hears it, because he snorts.

"At least I'm not drunk after 4 beers," he counters, and your head snaps to look at him as you frown jokingly.

"I'm not drunk," you defend, and Joel chuckles.

"Really? Is that why you sat through an hour and a half of almost silence?"

You feel your breath stall in your throat for a second as you register that Joel had been watching you, and at least for the majority of the night for him to know this.

You purse your lips, shaking your head with a grudging smile. "He was boring. . . besides, I didn't do it for me, thank you very much, my friend was having a great time with his buddy!"

Joel nods with a hum. "You’re a good friend, then,”

His tone has a hint of teasing sarcasm to it, and it makes you raise your eyebrows in challenge. 

"Well what about you, then?" you counter, and Joel raises an eyebrow as he glances at you from the road for a second.

"What about me, sweetheart?" he inquires, and you snort, shaking your head as you look out of the window.

"I saw you turn down, like, four women," you say pointedly, before giving a sarcastic chuckle, "Not good enough for you?"

Joel just shrugs. "Nobody special,"

You let out a bark of laughter, looking back at him. "Joel Miller is picky, is he?"

Joel doesn't look at you, but you watch as he pursues his lips, corners of his mouth twitching into a smile as he shakes his head.

"Not picky," he says simply, and his eyes cross yours for another split second, before they go back to the road, "Just had my eye on something better,"

It feels like something kickstarts inside you at his words, and you try your best to keep your smile from growing as your eyes drift back to the road with a hum and a sarcastic nod.

Finally.

In no time, Joel is pulling into your familiar street, and your heart is beating a million miles per hour as he turns into his driveway, headlights illuminating his garage door. Your hands feel sweaty as he switches off the engine, and when the lights die and plunge you back into the darkness of the evening, you start to feel nervous. What if you'd been reading it wrong? What if you were about to try something that would end in a decidedly awkward situation and forever taint your trips home?

You watch as Joel starts to speak, and you panic.

"Do you mind if I come in for a sec?" you ask, and Joel's words die in his throat as you hastily add, "To get my cardigan. . . I kinda need it tomorrow,"

Joel closes his mouth, and you can't quite decipher his expression in the dark of the car, but you hear him let out a measured breath. "Sure,"

Before you know it you're standing on Joel's porch as he unlocks the door, and he motions for you to go first as the door swings inwards. The house is dark but still recognizable, and you don't even think twice as you take off your shoes, not quite decided on whether you do it out of pure habit or because you’re finding an excuse to stay. If Joel notices, he doesn't say anything about it, and as you walk deeper into the hallway, he points at the kitchen.

"Put your cardigan on the kitchen table," he lets you know, "Thought it would remind me to come over and drop it off, but uh–. . .  I ran out of time today,"

"That's okay," you say with a chuckle as you walk in the direction he's pointing, before stepping sideways into the kitchen. As you flick on the light, you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the hall before you hear the unmistakable creak of the couch as you assume he sits down, followed by a slight groan.

"You all right?" you call as you locate your cardigan, and you hear him hum.

"Glad to be home," he returns, "That bar gave me a headache,"

You stall in the kitchen door for a second, before you turn back on your heel and reach for a glass in the cabinet, filling it up at the tap with water. You take a deep breath, steeling the nerves bubbling in your stomach as your mind races with the thought of Joel sitting on the couch just past this room, legs undoubtedly spread and back leaning against the couch.

"The bar?" you ask, your voice humorous, "Or the beers?"

"Not usually a drinker," Joel says after a second as you switch off the tap, and make your way out of the kitchen with the glass in hand, your cardigan forgotten in the kitchen, "But Jerry kept buying em', and hell, saying no would just be bad manners, wouldn't it?"

You chuckle as you step past the threshold of the living room. Joel is sitting exactly as you imagined him, except his head is thrown back and his hand is pressed against his forehead as he lets out another heavy breath. You can just about see the rise of his bulge through his jeans when he's sitting like this, and the desire that overcomes you makes the nerves you'd felt earlier in your stomach disappear into a puff of smoke.

"And yet this is your first glass of water…getting behind the wheel after more than 3 beers?" you say in an almost chastising tone as you come around the couch. "How irresponsible of you, Mr. Miller,"

Hook.

From the corner of your eye you notice Joel's thigh clench under his jeans, foot digging into the carpet but not moving from the way he's sitting on the couch as his head moves, hand coming back down to rest on his thigh as his back straightens slightly. His eyes have moved to you, and you can feel them watching you as you put down the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch, standing straight. His gaze tracks you, so that when you're standing, Joel's eyes meet with yours, expression unreadable as you raise your eyebrows expectantly for an answer.

"Don't do that,"

His tone isn't easy to discern; the timber of his voice is a little deeper than it was a second ago, but you can hear the conflict between desire and restraint in his tone, which makes you bite back a smirk.

"Do what?" you return with a shrug, playing dumb, and you swear you see the color of Joel's eyes darken, and he clears his throat, pursing his lips.

"It's playing with fire," he warns you, and you let out a small breath of laughter as you take a step towards him, sitting on the couch, so that his head angles slightly to look at you as you get closer.

"Playing with fire," you muse jokingly, before you bend down ever so slowly, fingers going to close over an empty mug that had been left out on the small table destined for the lamp and remote. You have to bend slightly over Joel to do so, and your knee grazes his as you reach, Joel's eyes leaving your face for a second as they move over the curve of your back, and the rise of your ass, "What does that even mean?"

Line–

"It means you have to behave around me," he tells you, and for a minute you hear his usual stern tone bleed through the low and heavy pitch of his voice.

"I have to behave?" you ask, fingers leaving the mug on the table as your head moves to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Then, you move, leaning slightly over him, and Joel feels your leg move, knee coming to rest on the couch beside his thigh as your eyes never leave his, "I don't have to do anything, Joel. . . 'can do whatever I want,"

With that, you move again, leaning slightly on your knee and putting a gentle hand on Joel's shoulder in order to bring your other leg up onto the couch, so that you're straddling him, thighs over his and hands on his shoulders. It's risky, you know that, and at any moment you're half-expecting Joel to push you off of him, but he doesn't. He stays still, his eyes fixed on you.

"And what is it you want?" Joel asks, and his voice is raspy, almost breathless as he stays stiff beneath you, but you think you feel the tips of his fingers graze over your knee slightly. Your hand moves from his shoulder down his chest, nails digging slightly into the material of his shirt as you drag them down.

"I want you to touch me," you breathe, and your tone teeters on desperate, the pent-up frustration from all of this week coursing through your veins, "Please touch me, Joel,"  

–and sinker.

You can see it in the darkening of his eyes, the clench of his jaw; you know you've got him right where you want him.

"Sweetheart," Joel's voice is low, a barely controlled grumble that comes from deep down in his chest, teetering between warning and wanting as he feels your palm move over his chest lightly, "This is wrong,"

You look at him, eyes low and searching his as your nails dig into the material of his shirt. His words and the tone of his voice fuel a fire in your belly.

"I know," you whisper, and Joel can feel your breath tickle his lips, before you lean forward, lips brushing past his cheek as you lean down to whisper in his ear, "Tell me to stop. . . tell me you don't want me and I'll stop,"

Stop.

Joel wants to say it, but somehow, the words refuse to cross his lips as you take it a step further and rock your hips against him, and then he's had enough. His hands move suddenly, planting themselves on your hips firmly, fingers digging into your exposed skin as he holds you in place, stopping your movements suddenly. You pull back slightly, so that you're looking at him again, and for a second you can read it all in his eyes. They flash between lust and guilt, and for a minute there's nothing but silence filled with Joel's measured breaths.

And then, at last, Joel Miller gives in.

His lips are on yours in a second, hand moving to the back of your head to pull you in, his other arm snaking around your waist as he sits straighter and pulls you flush to him. It makes your hips move against the hardening bulge in his jeans, the sudden movement of your panties against him making you let out a small moan of surprise into his mouth as he pulls you impossibly close. Your sound is swallowed by his mouth, moving with a desperate fervor against yours, taking advantage of the parting of your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. He practically devours you as his palm covers almost the entirety of your lower back, the heat of his skin seeming to come through your dress. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in the curls of his hair as you try and grab as much of him as you can. 

It's messy, desperate, all clashing tongues and teeth as nearly two weeks' worth of tension comes to a head. You roll your hips again, this time slowly, and as you feel Joel's bulge grow underneath you, he pulls away from your lips to draw in a sharp, throaty breath.

"Fuck," he groans, eyes pressed shut for a second, before he tangles his fingers in your hair and uses them to pull your head back slightly, exposing your neck to him. Joel wastes no time running his lips over the edge of your jaw, kissing down into the crook of your neck and the column of your throat as his hand moves from your back to your shoulder, pulling down the flimsy strap of your dress. His hand moves with it, before tugging on the neckline of your dress. You let loose another moan at the action, his mouth kissing over your collarbone and moving to the side down the top of your now exposed breath.

You let out a strangled moan as Joel's lips close over your nipple, teeth grazing over the tip as he bears down on it, his hand cupping under your breast, fingers kneading into your skin.

"J–Joel," you stutter out as pleasure courses through your chest, your fingers tightening in his hair as his tongue draws illicit shapes over your nipple, before his mouth moves in hastened kisses back across the center of your chest, up your collar bone, until finally you feel his lips brush the bottom of your chin. The grip in your hair loosens, your head angled back down enough for his lips to meet yours in another searing kiss.

It's even more intense than the last, and it steals your breath, every move against his body like a shock, skin igniting with his wandering touches.

You mentally take note of how happy you are that you wore a dress tonight, because there’s nothing more than the thin material of your panties separating you, and you can feel Joel's bulge through his jeans. As Joel kisses you, his mouth slowly tracing kisses back down your jaw line, you reach for the button on his jeans, popping it, before your fingers move to the hem of his shirt. You tug, and Joel pulls away from you for a second to help you pull his shirt over his head, before he's kissing you again, your fingers undoing his fly.

It's one big rush, almost frantic, but for some reason, you can't wait any longer. Your fingers run under the hem of his underwear, while Joel's hand moves down between the two of you. Your body freezes suddenly as you feel the pads of Joel's fingers graze over your entrance. You had been so busy trying to get his pants off you hadn't even noticed him moving your panties to the side, but you can feel him as he pushes the tip of his thick, calloused middle finger inside of you.

You let out a stuttering gasp at the feeling, and you feel Joel smirk against your lips.

"Needy little thing, aren’t ya?" he whispers as he sinks the first knuckle between your folds.

Your only response is a whimpering sound as Joel pushes on, until finally his entire finger is buried in your pussy. Your eyes widen slightly at the feeling as your lips part in a breathy gasp.

"Fuck," you whisper out, and your eyes press shut and hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as your feel Joel's finger curl inside of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks, his voice deep and velvety, his tone like music to your ears as you feel his other hand press firmly against the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

Joel clearly knows what he's doing, because in a mere manner of minutes he has you keening against him, a combination of expletives and his name falling over your lips in pleasured breaths. The heel of his palm grinds against your clit with every stroke of his finger, and the combination of the friction and the feeling of the pad of his index pushing inside of you as well almost sends you over the edge.

"Ah–. . . oh god, Joel," you stutter out, and you feel him smirk against your skin as he kisses down your neck back towards your breasts, recognizing the way your back stiffens and your thighs clench around his, your hips rolling over his hand desperately as he curls his fingers inside you again, working you open.

"Come on, sweetheart, I got you," he breathes against your chest, trailing your collarbone with his tongue, before his head dips, "Be a good girl and come all over these fingers, hm?"

With that, you feel Joel's mouth close over your nipple again, and your orgasm crashes through you. Joel does nothing to silence your sounds of pleasure as they echo through his living room, eyes pressed shut and brow furrowed as your head tips back slightly. Your chest heaves for breath as pleasure consumes you, your hips stuttering against his hand, and his head moves, eyes watching your face with a victorious expression, enjoying the sight of your blissed-out features. Eventually your moans become pants as your heartbeat starts to slow down, and you feel Joel kiss you again, your mouth opening to let him in willingly as you feel his fingers pull out of you, making you gasp slightly against his lips.

It takes a second for you to catch your breath, but not much longer, the weeks of lingering touches having filled you with so much anticipation neither of you can wait any longer to feel the other. You move off him for a split second to allow him to lift his hips so you can drag the waistline of his jeans down, Joel's lips leaving hungry kisses against yours. Neither of you bother pulling his pants down all the way, and as your hand wraps around the length of him, Joel lets out a stuttered gasp, fingers ghosting over the hem on your panties before moving them to the side again.  

You slowly lower yourself until you feel the tip of him press up against you, before your hips stall at the feeling, your mind seemingly registering only for the first time tonight how big Joel might be. He definitely feels bigger than you'd anticipated, and your hips freeze for a second at the thought. When you look back at Joel, his eyes are already on your face, analyzing every frown, every twitch of your features to gauge a change in your mood.

"You all right there, sweetheart?" he asks you, and his tone is so different from a second ago when he'd been talking you through your climax, so gentle, it throws you a little off guard, "You still want to keep going?"

You feel your chest warm at the question and the feel of his hands placed gently on your hips, dress bunched up to your waist as his hands caress the skin underneath with gentle strokes. A smile creeps up on your lips as you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips.

"Yes," you let out a whisper, before you move your hips down and the head of his cock pushes past your folds.

Your mouth parts as you sink down onto Joel, his fingers digging into your skin as you watch his eyes close and a frown furrow itself deep in his brow. He doesn't push you down, and lets you control the pace as you work yourself down his length, which feels impossibly thick, but you find yourself enjoying the slight burn of stretching around him.

Finally, with a final push down of your hips he's buried to the hilt. The guttural groan Joel lets out, as he throws his head back slightly against the couch, mingles with your own moan as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

"Holy shit," Joel rasps out, "S'tight, baby,"

You just let out a whimpering hum, barely coherent as you feel Joel's hips press against your ass, skin igniting where it touches against his. 

He brings his head back to look at you.You're a sight to behold like this, sitting in his lap, dress hiked up to your hips and flimsy straps halfway down your arm, exposing the tops of your breasts. Your eyes are shut, brow creased in effort and concentration, full lips parted in pleasure.

"There you go," Joel goads as you try and adjust to the feeling of being impossibly full, teeth biting down into your lip, "Knew you could do it,"

"Jesus, fuck, Joel," you stutter out, closing your eyes slightly as you feel him press his forehead against yours, perfectly still as he's buried into you as far as he can go, "You're so deep,"

"I know, sweetheart, I know" he coos, and you feel his hand run soothingly over the skin of your hip, "Is that what you've been thinking about every time you're over here, hm? How deep I'd feel inside of you?"

"Y–ye–. . . oh fuck, yes, Joel," you bring out as his hands gently roll your hips, making you whimper as you throw your head back slightly, eyes pressed shut, "Not just when I'm here. . . been thinking about it all week, Joel,"

"That so?" he hums, and you feel his lips leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck, "You been touching yourself thinking about me?"

The question makes your cheeks burn, and you open your eyes looking down at Joel. His eyes shift to yours as he looks up from where he's kissing your neck, a smirk spreading across his face as he catches sight of your embarrassed expression.

"Don't go shy on me now, baby," he tells you with a deep chuckle, before you feel him move your hips upwards slightly, pulling out halfway and waiting, "Been rather bold, haven't you. . . ? Bein' all flirty, pushin' up against me when you know I can't do anything about it. . . now, answer me,"

"Y­–yes," you bring out, and with that, Joel pushes down on your hips suddenly, burying himself to the hilt once more, eyes never leaving yours. You can't stop the loud, desperate moan that falls over your lips and echoes through the living room as he does, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure courses through your body, and Joel watches with a satisfied smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"That's bad, sweetheart," he says in a mockingly chastising, shaking his head, "Maybe you don't deserve it, then, hm? Maybe I'll just teach you a lesson instead,"

Joel's head dips again, one hand firmly on your hips, keeping you in place in his lap, the other moving up to cup your breast. His lips close over the sensitive skin of your nipple, you gasp slightly, before a moan builds in your chest. You try to move your hips, desperate to release some of the friction, to feel him thrust into you again, but Joel's hand is like a vice.

"No, baby," he rasps against your skin, before you feel his teeth nip at your nipple slightly, "You sit tight. . . don't get to move yet. . . not until I say so,"

You let out a plaintive whimper as you feel him flex inside of you, your walls fluttering around him desperately in anticipation.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're squeezing me so tight," he groans, but still he doesn't move his hips, or let you move yours, lips resuming the onslaught on your breasts.

"Joel," you let out in a whine, and you feel him smirk against your skin.

"What is it darlin'?" he asks you, fingers digging into the skin of your hip, "Want me to move, hm? Why don't you beg for it?" 

Joel watches as your eyes open, and you use your hand, tangling it in his hair to move him off your breasts, angling his head slightly upwards, looking down into his eyes.

"I don't beg," you tell him, your voice hinting at authoritative, and you can see in his eyes that Joel likes that you're challenging him.

You feel his hand move from your chest down between you again, and you can't stop the sudden gasp that escapes you as you feel the pad of his thumb press down on your clit, rolling over it slowly.

"You do now," Joel says, raising a single eyebrow as he smirks at you, your eyes widening at the feeling of his finger drawing steady circles over your sensitive bud.

Fuck this, you think to yourself. You need Joel to move.

"P–please," you stutter out as Joel's finger speeds up, and his chest rumbles as he chuckles deeply.

"Please what, sweetheart?" Joel hums, and you give him a look, eyes flashing with slight frustration at his insistence, which makes him smirk wider, eyes knowing as he waits for you.

"Please move, Joel," you let out in a breath, "Please just fuck me,"

"Atta girl," he says finally, and then, Joel releases his grip on your hips.

It isn't gentle, and it isn't slow; your hips stutter, and he thrusts up to meet them as he pulls you down on him over and over again at a fast pace. Your brow creases as your eyes shut, arms wrapped around Joel's shoulders as you push yourself up and down his cock desperately, the feeling of him filling you repeatedly almost too good for words. Joel isn't holding back anymore, either, and both of his hands are on your hips, pulling you down onto him just as hard and as desperate as your own movements.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you let out in small breaths, "God, Joel,"  

The noises Joel is making under you are downright sinful. Deep throaty grunts with every thrust, like music to your ears, as his arms wrap tightly around your waist, keeping you close to him as you move in a rhythm.

"Shit, baby. . . that's right," he mutters, before moving one of his hands to run over your cheek, fingers burying into the hair at the nape of your neck, face so close to yours he's practically grunting into your mouth, "Feels so fucking good. . . pussy s'made for me,"

"It's all for you, Joel," you bring out between moans as he pushes up into you, "Fuck, oh god,"

The feeling of Joel is beyond words; you feel every vein, every ridge as he slides in and out of you, tip repeatedly hitting a spot deep inside you, that makes your vision spotty. You're almost ashamed to say it doesn't take long before you feel yourself getting close, and when Joel's thumb presses over your clit again, rolling in slow circles, you find yourself tipping over the edge again.

"That's right," Joel whispers against your lips and you moan into his mouth, legs shaking from your orgasm.

You know he isn't far behind you, either, by the way his thrusts are caught between speeding up and slowing down. His breath becomes shallower as his fingers dig into the flesh of your waist. As your walls flutter around him, you lean down, lips grazing from the corner of his mouth across his jaw and towards his ear.

"Come on, baby," you let out, your tone between breathy and sultry as you use the nickname he'd been using all night on you, "Want to feel you coming inside me, Joel,"

"Fuck, yeah?" Joel groans as he hears you let out another moan in his ear, your orgasm only just subsiding, "Fuck, shit. . . I'm coming,"

Your name falls over Joel's lips in a faltering breath as his hips stutter. His brow creases suddenly as his eyes press shut, before he buries his mouth against your shoulder, teeth nudging against your skin. His arms tightens around your naked chest as you feel him twitch against you, Joel's hips suddenly pressing against you so desperately he nudges something inside you that makes you whimper.

"Fuck–ah!" Joel lets out, followed by a whimpering groan against your ear as his teeth sink further into your shoulder, "Shit. . . sweetheart, ooh, fuck!"

He comes hard inside of you, no sounds filling your ears but his blissed out, whimpering moans for a second, which gradually turn into pants as his forehead comes down to rest on your shoulder, his breath against your skin.

Trying to compose yourself, you take your own regular breaths as your heart rate slows down. 

"Jesus," Joel whispers to himself as he looks up from your shoulder. Then he's facing you again, looking into your eyes as you chuckle slightly, still trying to catch your own breath.

"Good enough for you?" you joke as you raise an eyebrow, and Joel gives you a look, before his forehead falls against yours. 

"Sweetheart," he grumbles jokingly, his arms tightening around you as his eyes close and he lets out a contented breath, "I'm going to need you to do that like, 10 more times,"

You can't stop the small laugh that crosses your lips as you lean forwards and kiss him. When you pull away, you trap Joel's bottom lip between your teeth, which makes him groan deep in his chest as you pull away with a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth.

"I think I can do that," 

writing this took it out of me, so reactions are sooo appreciated and feedback is more than welcome ღ k

a special shoutout is owed to @cutetomholland for her incredible help proofreading, so say thank you otherwise ya'll would be reading some straight shit teehee

[flwrstqr]

ʬʬ. ! ENHYPEN WHEN YOU GET A NEW HAIR STYLE

` . . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇

🪽 ⋆ pairing. bf!enhypen x fem!reader wc. 682 tw/cw. kissing, petnames, not fully proofread genre. est relationship, imagines, fluff dani's note had this idea for a while in my drafts 😈 ✦ ◞ ARCHIVE

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 you run your fingers through your freshly cut hair, still getting used to the lightness. when heeseung walks into the room, his eyes widen in surprise. “wow, you look amazing, princess.” he says, a playful smirk spreading across his face, “i mean, you always do, but this…” you feel your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze, “you really think so?” he steps closer, brushing a strand behind your ear, “absolutely.but now, it’s going to be even harder to keep my eyes off you.”

rest of the members below !!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 you nervously run your fingers through your new hair as jay walks in. his eyes light up, and he immediately pulls you by the waist. “wow, you look stunning, babe,” he says, his voice filled with admiration. you smile shyly. “you think so?” “absolutely, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he tilts your chin up, his eyes twinkling. “I can’t get over how amazing you look.”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 you nervously tug at your new dyed hair as Jake walks in. his eyes widen, and he breaks into a delighted grin. “pretty hair for a pretty girl,” he says, stepping closer “really?” you ask, a shy smile playing on your lips. “absolutely, love,” he murmurs, cupping your face gently. he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, making your heart flutter. “you look incredible.” his eyes sparkle with excitement as he pulls you closer by the waist. “you know, i always thought you were beautiful, but this new hair... it’s like a cherry on top,” he teases, making you giggle.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 sunghoon walks in. his eyes widen, and he stands there, speechless for a moment. finally, he finds his voice. “wow, you look... amazing,” he says, stepping closer. “feally?” you ask, your heart pounding. “absolutely, princess,” he murmurs, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. he leans in and kisses you softly, making you melt into his touch. "i love it.” he pulls you into a tight hug, holding you close. “now, how about a date to show off this new look?”

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 sunoo looks up from his book, his eyes widening as he takes in your new haircut. "angel, you look amazing!" he exclaims, setting the book aside and rushing over to you. his hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks. "you really like it?" you ask softly. "i love it," he says without hesitation, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "you always look beautiful to me, but this… this is perfect. you’re perfect."

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 jungwon looks up from his phone, and his jaw drops. "baby?" he says, blinking a few times as if to clear his vision. he stands up slowly, his eyes fixed on you in disbelief. "did you... cut your hair?" you nod, biting your lip nervously. "do you like it?" he walks closer, still looking shocked. "i mean... wow," he finally manages, running a hand through his own hair as if trying to process the transformation. "you look so different. It's... it's amazing, but I'm just... wow." his reaction makes you laugh, and you reach out to touch his arm. "I guess I surprised you, huh?" "surprised? that's an understatement," he says, shaking his head with a smile. "you always manage to take my breath away, my love."

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 riki looks up from his game, his eyes widening in surprise. "you cut your hair" he exclaims, standing up quickly. He walks over, inspecting your new look from different angles. "thank god you didn't get a bowl cut—" you lightly smack his arm, cutting him off. "shut up," "ow, sorry, baby," he says, rubbing his arm with a sheepish grin. "i didn't mean it like that. you look gorgeous." you roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "you're lucky you're cute," you tease. riki chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. "i know, I know," he murmurs, pulling you close. "but seriously, you look amazing. you always do."

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Play you? Play me?

charles leclerc x reader

my masterlist

summary in which your “music teacher” finally plays you instead of playing the piano (idk it sounds very weird when I wrote it down) 

warnings smut, french petname (Mon bébé = My baby), cockwarming, squirting, sex on a piano,... 

author note as much as I would've wanted to write for my little Vettel series (believe me, I did work on it, and Chapter 2 it’s almost done, I just need to figure some teeny, tiny details more) BUT I kinda have charles obsession NOW??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT… 

edit #1 THE NEW CHAPTER OF LITTLE VETTEL IS OUT

You loved Charles’s fingers. You loved watching them dance on the keys of the Steinways & Sons piano that he so loved to play; loved watching the way they stretched to reach octaves and certain notes; also the same fingers that were holding on to the steering wheel so tight each time he was in a race; and the same of those holding your hands almost everyday. You loved the glint of his rings as his hands glided across the notes, playing a song that had you almost completely at peace if not for his cock stretching you open.

It all started innocently when he said that he wanted to teach you some basics about piano, and so you were sitting in his lap while his hands guide you through each keys. And just like that in a heated moment, you now were straddling Charles, legs dangling over the back of the piano stool, head tucked against his chest. One ear listened to the steady beat of his heart as the other listened to the steady melody created by his skilled fingers. 

With every tap of his shoes on the pedals, his cock would be driven further into you before falling back to its original place, the ridge of the leaking head catching at just the spot that had you moaning in time with the extended notes.

Your fingers traced shapes in his back, random shapes and words that the song he wrote inspired, your mouth occasionally dropping kisses on his neck and chest, wherever you could reach really.

You brought your legs up, locking your ankles around his back when you wanted more. The new position drove him further into your tight heat but even as you moaned and clenched tightly around him, his fingers never lost their rhythm; the notes still falling perfectly in time with the sheet music in front of him, feet still pressing the pedals at the correct timing.

If it wasn’t for the tiny crease in between his eyes, you wouldn’t have even thought he was affected at all. But you supposed, no matter how lost he was in his playing, it wasn’t as if he could ignore your slick running down your legs and onto the towel below (to protect his expensive leather seats), or the way you folds would flutter every time he hit a particular string of notes.

But for now you were content.

Content to be filled wholly by him.

Every inch of your skin was covered by his own, his heartbeat loud and clear in your ears; complementing his music.

His cock filled you to the brim, keeping you warm and filled in a way you knew you could never explain.

He brought you all the comfort you would ever need; filling you up in all the empty places you used to have; making the absence of him an absence of yourself.

You stayed curled around him as he lost himself in his music and in you; content to let him play until his heart was full before laying you across the expensive instrument and fucking you the way he knew best. 

As the song comes to an end, your body and his became increasingly intertwined. Your breath hitched as he now slowly moves inside you, your hands gripping tighter onto his broad back and shoulders as both bodies stay connected. The intensity of each movements, all made you feel so alive.

The pleasure was almost unbearable, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reached his peak, his fingers now digging into your skin. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groaned, his words barely audible as he continued to move inside you, prolonging your pleasure.

Your nails dug into his back as you reached your own climax, the intensity of it all almost too much to handle. He smirked as he felt you tighten around him, your moans growing louder. "That's it, let go for me, Mon bébé" he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with desire. You shuddered as he continued to move inside you, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your body. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. 

He let out a low growl as he finally released himself inside you, his hips still moving against yours as he rode out his own climax. He collapsed onto you, his body slick with sweat and his breath warm against your neck. "Fuck, that was amazing," he murmured, nuzzling your neck as he caught his breath. "You're incredible." You smiled, your fingers tracing patterns on his back as you both enjoyed the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "I don't want to move," you whispered, feeling completely content in his arms.  

After some time, he looked at you with a grin. "Feeling a bit adventurous?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We could try out that new position I've been wanting to try." He picked you up effortlessly and placed you on top of the piano, his lips never leaving yours. He could hear the soft keys being pressed under your body, but it only added to the intensity and the thrill of the situation. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he explored your mouth with his. He leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment to look at you with a lustful gaze. His hands went down to your waist, tracing the curves and dips, driving you crazy with desire. His thumb teased the skin under your silk skirt, making you moan softly. "I want you, again”  he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. "Right here, right now." His lips found yours again, his tongue exploring deeper as your bodies pressed closer together on the piano. His hands went to the buttons of your shirt, slowly undoing each one while his lips were back on yours, hungrily tasting and nibbling at your lips. His fingers slid under your bra, teasing your breast, making your back arch with pleasure. His lips trailed fire down your body, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. "Now, it's my turn to taste you, Mon bébé" he said, his voice full of desire as he helped you spread your legs. He dipped his head low, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth closed over your core. His tongue explored every inch of you, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit. He sucked and flicked at it, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He lifted his head, his lips wet with your juices. "You taste so fucking good," he growled before plunging his tongue back inside of you, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit. He worked them in unison, driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Come for me, Mon bébé" he commanded, his voice rough and needy. He sucked hard on your clit as his fingers thrust deep inside of you, taking you over the edge. You screamed his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling and shaking.

Still in a daze from your intense orgasm, he stood and quickly removed his own clothes. His large, hard cock sprung free, the head already wet with his desire for you. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your slick entrance. "Are you ready for me?" Without waiting for your response, he thrust deep inside of you. It was a tight fit, the walls of your pussy stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, his head falling back as he began to move in and out of you with long, slow strokes. "Fuck…” 

His hands gripped your hips as he picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you, the pleasure building deep within your core. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper as you met his thrusts.

He bent his head, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, his fingers pinching and rolling the other. His hips slapped against yours, the sound filling the room, altogether with the sound of the piano. You could tell he was close by the way he began to pant and moan.  "Come for me," he growled, his teeth scraping against your sensitive nipple. His thrusts became erratic, his cock twitching inside of you. That was all it took to set you off, your orgasm crashing through you in waves of pleasure.

He groaned loudly as you tightened around him, his thrusts becoming desperate as he felt his own release racing through him. "Fuck, yes!" He shouted, slamming into you one last time before filling you with his hot cum. He pushed harder and faster, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. He grinned down at you, his cock still hard and ready for more. "Again," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. It wasn't long before you screamed his name, your entire body shuddering as you squirted all over him.

He slowed down as he felt your orgasm subsiding, his lips finding yours in a tender, passionate kiss. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

[minhosimthings]

The Elysian Angel || 18+

Synopsis: For the second day of your pact, you make a good friend in a good angel.

Pairing: detective!Jake × fem!reader

Warnings: smut minors Dni, oral (f receiving), anal sex, switch Jake, slight dom!reader, praise, degradation, p in v sex, dumbification, use of petname 'pup', mention of food and alcohol, Heeseung being an asshole

A/N: My apologies that this took a lot of time. Unfortunately I was travelling and i didn't find time to edit and do all that crap. Also my dumbass wrote the smut on the plane so again, apologies if it is not satisfactory. No I cannot for the life of me praise myself

Series Masterlist

The tiny cactus pot near his bedroom window had never seemed more interesting to Jake than now, as he thought over the events that had occured this evening.

Now, hungover and somewhat peckish, Jake thought of his two best friends, a drunk woman, and even more drunker pact. What had he called it? Something with Heeseung and jealousy and whatnot.

Ah yes Heeseung, Jake had a eureka moment, he had cheated on his wife had he not? And she had come to the police precinct and she had beat him in drinking bourbon...yes he remembered now!

Jake sighed to no one in particular as he cuddled into his blanket, watching the way his cactus blocked the shimmering moonlight from entering the room. He was weirdly craving sugar at the moment.

Maybe he should treat Heeseung's wife to his favourite cake tomorrow, he thought, what was her name again? Lee Y/N.

No not Lee, Jake yawned, no she's divorced now, his last thought came as he drifted off to an eager tomorrow.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"So—" Jake leaned on the table, staring into Sunghoon's eyes, "—how was it last night?"

"Heavenly." Sunghoon sighed dreamily into his coffee, "She gave me some advice on how to-."

"I meant the sexual part." Jake chuckled, "You know, the part where your peni-"

"Yeah yeah I got that!" Sunghoon coughed loudly, though there weren't any other officers in the break room at the moment, save for Jay and Jake who had been listening fondly to Sunghoon show off his new coat, "It was... great! Might I add, she can take a lot. And I mean a damn lot." He widened his eyes to maximise the effect.

"Maybe you just have a tiny dick." Jay snickered, which made Jake spill a waring amount of coffee out of his nose.

"Jake what the fuck!" Sunghoon recoiled, as Jake cleaned himself up, still laughing, "Hey don't do that around her alright?" Sunghoon made a disgusted expression, wiping off the coffee from the table.

"So where is she staying right now?" Jay asked, taking the attention away from Jake's sopping wet shirt, "She can't go back to Heeseung's so—?"

"I dropped her off at a friend's." Sunghoon sipped his coffee, relishing the bitter taste of the grinded beans, "And before you ask, Mister lover boy—", Jake laughed raucously at his quip, "Yes she's fine. And weirdly happy too."

"Where is this friend's place?" Jake asked curiously, glancing at Jay who was looking suspiciously at him, "I-I wanted to take her out...for some cake." He finished awkwardly leading the two men to look at him with raised brows.

"What?" Jake scoffed, "Can't I treat a lady to some cake before I- you know."

"Fighting Jongsoeng for the lover boy position Jake?" Sunghoon laughed, "I'm impressed." He took a look at a glaring Jay, which motivated him further, "Her house is on Baker's Street, the second one when you enter."

"Is that really necessary?" Jay questioned, the gravel in his voice was evident, "She never asked you to buy her cake."

"And yet I want to." Jake answered, downing his coffee in one go, before getting up briskly, "See you later boys."

"Um, sir you have files to complete." Sunghoon interrupted, but Jake was faster in striding out the door.

"Do them for me would you Sunghoon?!"

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

The atmosphere around the cafe was pleasant, as the cool evening wind blew against your face. The light brown coloured cake sat patiently in front of you, with only a few bite marks decorating it.

"Thank you for taking me here." You said to the man in front of you, who looked up at you with widened brown eyes, before offering a smile.

"No harm in treating a lady is there?" He poked at his own piece of cake with his fork, "I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything before we—" he smiled awkwardly, "—go into the details of the pact."

You felt him internally cringe at what he had said so you quickly diverted the topic. "Do you come here often?" You asked.

Jake's ever present grin appeared again, as he nodded, looking fondly at the small cafe, which smelled like pine trees to you, though perhaps it was from the fact that you were sitting outside. "It's one of my favourite places to come when I need to take a breather."

You smiled at the man's words as you took the last bite of the cake, closing your eyes to taste it properly. It melted right into your mouth, and you savoured the caramel flavour, sweet yet having a tinge of salt in it. You almost felt like you could have-

"What the fuck are you doing with her?"

That voice.

Your eyes burst open, to locate the source of it, the siren like tones which had once intoxicated you, not irritated you. You first landed on Jake, who was looking behind you with a somewhat terrified expression. Whipping your head around you saw him.

Lee Heeseung.

"And might I ask what you are doing here?" You tried to keep yourself calm, reminding yourself it's a public place.

"Y/N, what are you doing with him?" Heeseung's brow was dripping with sweat and his face was formed in a glare. He looked ferocious.

"I'm not your wife anymore Heeseung." You stated calmly, though you were internally fuming, "So please, can you leave us alone?"

"So you're fucking my colleagues now huh?" Heeseung chuckled loudly, catching the attention of a few people around, "Sort of forgives me for just fucking one other girl doesn't it?"

"Forgives you?"

Your voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. It had a tone to it which Jake had never heard before. It was....colder.

"Are you actually being serious, Heeseung?" You laughed, this time it didn't warm Jake's cheeks. It rather broke through his eyes like icicles.

"You don't have even one right to be forgiven. In fact you don't have any!" You scoffed, "I'm surprised you even have the gall to fucking approach me right now, because trust me, if I were you, I would have hid my face in my bedroom until I died." Jake was taken apart by the very new air of you he was seeing, "So please kindly fuck off would you?"

Heeseung's teeth gritted as he glared daggers at Jake, giving you one final, venomous look before spinning on his heel, and angrily stomping away. The sight of it was practically cartoonish.

"Are you alright?" Jake asked from behind you, you turned to see his worried eyes. His voice was the sweet honeyed one you knew well and proper.

"I'm fine, thank you Jake." You gave him a smile, concealing how much the incident had shaken you.

"It's getting dark." Jake lent you an arm which you gladly took, "Shall we head home?"

"Lead the way." You gave him a final grin.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Do all detectives have such nice looking houses?" You chuckled, looking around Jake's apartment. Though not as homely as Sunghoon's was, it certainly was cozy, giving off the same rustic vibes as the cafe. A maroon divan sat in the corner.

"Was Sunghoon's fairy cottage that beautiful?" Jake chuckled, inviting you to sit beside him on the sofa. "Perhaps its just my preference of cottages." You chuckled, though you certainly had no complaint against Jake's apartment.

"You'd like Jay's house then." Jake said, leaning back against the wall of the sofa. Silence passed for what felt like an hour (though it was only five minutes), until Jake finally spoke up.

"How did Sunghoon ever get you into his bedroom?" Jake asked, startling you from the sudden break of silence, "Because I am extremely nervous right now. But then again—" he grinned, "—Park Sunghoon can get even a cupid into his sheets."

"And you can't?" You quizzed, admiring his features, as he shook his head.

"It's a bit shameful for a man to admit but–" he chuckled darkly, "–at the most I've had two women in my bed."

"Would that make me the third?" You fluttered your lashes at him, making him gulp, "Come on, detective Sim," you smirked, “Don’t you want to play with me?” 

Jake's voice catches in his throat as you lock eyes with him. Your eyes are soft and kind, like usual, but the more he looks, the more he begins to notice a hint of lust glazing them. Neither of you move for a moment, studying each other's expressions. Jake moves closer to you, though not close enough for you.

"Closer, detective." you smirk, pulling him closer to kiss him full on his plump lips. His hands find their way to your waist. He pulls you closer to him, and your legs seem to mindlessly straddle his lap. You can't fight the urge to grind your hips against his pelvis, slowly rocking back and forth.

He groans quietly as the two of you continue to kiss, and you use this opportunity to slide your tongue inside his mouth. His saliva has faint tastes of coffee and whiskey.

Jake's fingers mindlessly fiddle with the top button of your blouse, unsure as to whether or not he should undo them. You undo the top one, prompting him to undo the rest. His face is warm and pink as you pull away from the kiss leaving a string of salvia behind, and you can feel his cock harden beneath you as you continue to grind on his lap.

You push your hips into his, his hard-on pushes up into the wet patch on your panties. Slowly, he pushes your skirt down your thighs, and you momentarily stop grinding on him to help take your skirt off. Your bare thighs hover in the cool breeze from the evening. You leaned in for another kiss.

"Wait," Jake stops you, hands rubbing into your waist. With his lusty sinews, Jake picked you up, you wrapped your legs tightly around his hips to secure yourself as he led you into the adjacent room.

"I don't think we should mess my sofa up, eh pup?" The nickname had your core erupting into lava.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"You're so pretty..." Jake whispered into your ear as he lay you down on the bed. His bedroom, though tiny, was spacious enough, for you to collect your mind.

"Let's leave the compliments for later detective." You smiled at him, nipping the bud of his ear with your teeth, "For now, " you whispered seductively, "Shall we begin?"

You could feel Jake's nervousness, from the way his body tensed up. Inexperienced man, you thought, you were about to have a lot of fun.

“Open,” You said, leaning forward and tapping his chin, you were about to take the lead, if he wasn't going to. A woman couldn't have waited all day could she?

Jake complied, easier than you thought, opening his mouth allowing to shove two fingers inside, just like Heeseung had once did to you. He licked and sucked your fingers for two minutes, never breaking eye contact as his spit rolled down your hand. 

“Good boy,” you said, pulling them away as you began to touch yourself. Sitting back on your ass, you rubbed your clit, rubbing his spit into your sensitive button, letting him know how good it felt, how close you were to cumming with his spit on your cunt. You plunged one finger in and then another as you watched him bite his tongue, careful not to let even a small sound slip out. 

You let go of his hand so you could guide his head to where you needed his mouth. Your hands wound tightly into his hair, legs struggling to stay open as you felt the heat of his tongue against your core.

Jake slid it shallowly into your folds. The sensation made you whine and grab his head to push him further. He resisted but soon gave you what you want. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as he tasted you and let a gloriously loud moan vibrate against your center.

“Do that again- Shit, just like that, right there.” you moaned as you felt every bud of his sharp tongue, "G-Good boy...."

You weren't interested in taking it slow tonight, being wet since he had touched you.

He licked a stripe up your vulva, his tongue flat and getting every inch of your pussy till he reached your clit where he wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked.

Your back arched on the bed, one hand going straight to his hair as your orgasm quickly built. Your pussy clenched around nothing as he started flicking his tongue against you.

"Fuck...Jaeyun!" You screamed his name out, which built up the fire in him, "You're being so good for me...."

The other hand not threading through his tresses fisted the sheets of his bed tighter as your hips began to roll and grind against his face in circular motions, trying to catch that sensation of his nose bumping against your throbbing clit. Your body had a mind of its own, sinking deeper and deeper into the burning hot abyss of pleasure and reach the high you were quickly ascending to.

But before you could grasp that high properly, you felt a discerning movement.

"Jake!" You cried, suddenly feeling the familiar taste of his tongue leave your walls empty, "Why the fuck would you do that?!"

"Shh, baby." Jake shushes you, which makes you hold your tongue quickly. Jake let's go of one of your thighs and unbuckles his belt, pulling down his zipper and pushing down his pants. He lets out a deep breath again when he finally feels free and without his tight trousers around his hips. Jake looked magnificent as he admired you laying in front of him. Wild, primal thoughts flanked every neuron of his mind.

"Turn on your side for me." He commands you, with lust filled eyes, "Now." He adds as if it's an afterthought. You quickly obliged, finding his tone of voice enamouring you into obeying him. You couldn't wait for what he was about to do.

Jake knows it's wrong, to fuck another man's wife, but fuck—he couldn't help himself, and anyway you had agreed to this. So there he was, hard cock slipping between your thighs as he thrusts his hips slowly, biting his tongue to prevent the guttural groans threatening to escape his lips. Jake's veined hands slip under your bra, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his thrusts grow slightly faster while his hand grasps at your tit tightly, sinfully thankful that Heeseung had given you up.

"F-Fuckkk-" you groaned painfully as Jake slipped into your ass, you needed time to adjust, "Jaeyun wait—"

Your words meant nothing to him as every thrust stretches you to the shape of him, his cock ramming painfully into your cervix with each thrust. He takes you, uses you as his hips bounce against your ass, shaking you with the force of every movement. Your moans grew louder and louder with each thrust, you felt his hot breath against your neck, and yet he didn't stop, only growing more possesive by the second.

"Fucking hell baby." Jake's accented voice tingled against your skin, "such a good pup for me aren't you?"

The sensations of his mere words burn through your core as your toes curl while he fucks into you with such a possessive need that your whole body trembles with the overwhelming pleasure. His obeying tendencies earlier had changed into a much more obsessive one, turning you on even more.

His expression grows almost enamored at how you're squeezing him-tense, as he thrusts into you, balls slapping against your ass at his relentless pace. Hot, searing pleasure makes its way up your spine-emitting a low, almost inaudible, squeal from you as he pinches your clit.

You're constantly on the edge, slipping in and out of consciousness from his assault on your cervix, harsh-angry thrusts punctuating his words.

"Faster—" you moaned, not realising how much his dick was controlling your mind now, "Jaeyun, fuck—faster please...."

"Faster?" Jake's low voice vibrated on your skin as he chuckled, pulling you against him in a brisk fashion, making you cry out in pleasure, "Am I making you feel good baby?" You nodded, not even hearing his words, fuck he was making you feel better than ever.

"Dumb–" one thrust, "—fucking–" the second, "—pup." He accentuated every word clearly.

Your eyes roll back, and he fucks your hips right back on him with his tight grip on them. Even when the rope breaks, and you’re pushed under—thighs shaking in illicit euphoria as you leak around him, he doesn’t stop.

Like some rabid animal, he takes you back in-then out again with his movements—his thoughts becoming scrambled, accentuated with primal, violent pushes and pulls before he’s slamming back in you again as tears gather in your eyes.

"Jaeyun!" You scream again, feeling your cunt throb for even a mere touch of his dick, which was stretching your back out so well, "I want you Jake.. please.." your begging makes it just sweeter for him.

He gulps and kisses you passionate, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. Hands on your waist, he grips you tightly and flips you over onto your back, the skin on your back tickled as it hit the sheets. He grabs his shaft and runs his tip through your folds, teasing your clit a little bit.

"Fuck, Sunghoon was right," he breaths out, "You really can take a lot and nods. Slowly and carefully he starts to push his fat tip against your entrance, pushing and pushing until his tip was in.

He watches your face for any sort of pain or discomfort but sees nothing, so he pushes forward again until you knit your brows together in pain.

"don't stop, fuck." you whisper against his lips, which motivated him further, "Fuck~Jake!" You moaned, as he moved ever so slightly

The man began to move faster, starting a stutter in his hips that ended up colliding against yours forcefully. It hurt you, it was too abrupt, and that feeling remained there even though the pleasure clouded your mind and senses.

Jake leaned over your sweaty, flushed body to get a better angle, you could see his face better and closer.

He had flowing strands of his black hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, the rest fell on your forehead, tickling you. And his seducing gaze that evaluated each and every one of your expressions, as if he were memorizing them.

You lower your hips slowly before bringing them back up. Jake presses his face against your chest, his own arms moving to wrap around you. His hips move down, fucking into you.

You try to help him as best you can but your thighs are already starting to hurt from being in this position too long.

It didn't seem like Jake minded though. In fact once he notices you’re giving your body up to him he seems to find some super strength because before you know it he’s ramming into you.

His thin lips moved against yours and his tongue made your mouth open to give way to his.

And he was there, kissing you, giving you pleasure and pain, both in a play or duality. His hips were now moving precisely, at a speed that you both enjoyed. His lips dancing over your mouth took away the little breath you had left. The head of his erection began to hit a delicious spot deep in your intimacy that, along with the movement of his thumb squeezing and stretching your clitoris, made your mind blur and spin.

"You can take it," Jake said, noticing your expression, bringing his head down as his tongue swirled over your nipples. Your back arched at the contact, your legs beginning to shake as he brought his hand over to rub on your clit.

Your nails scratched at Jake's back ruthlessly, clawing and taking your way down as you felt the muscles tense underneath your touch. You get your orgasm building up slowly, a dam threatening to burst with every snap of his hips. Your legs began to shake underneath his grasp, your nails digging into the flesh of his back as he buried his head into your shoulder. His cock twitched inside your cunt a couple seconds later, indicating that he was close to his orgasm.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close to you as he continued to thrust inside of you. His eyes rolled back, his cock shooting out ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

Jake's thrusts came to a slow stop. His hand left your throat and went to the back of your head, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. He pulled away and looked into your eyes for a few seconds before pulling out of you. He laid down next to you, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

"Whiskey?" "By all means."

|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"This—" You took a deep sniff of the liquid, "—is delicious."

"Jay gifted it to me." Jake took a sip from his glass, savouring the burning taste from the bubbling whiskey, "I feel as if our love language is gifting each other alcohol, especially Jay, with all his knowlege in it."

For the second time since the last two days, you couldn't comprehend why Jay's name had made the veins in your heart abruptly stop, like water against the rocks of a seashore. Though you certainly knew of the tiny red ants in your mind which whispered to you, about love and whatnot.

Well, you sighed to yourself, tomorrow was merely hours away.

Taglist: @diorsyun @jaeyunluvr @hoondrop @mxxninthesky @alvojake @wondipity @blurryriki @lilyuwon @heeliopheelia @pockettwinzz @heeslomll @seunghancore @shiningnono @noonareads @deobitifull @luvitria @wonibae @nyfwyeonjun @hwa-0403 @saanvilovessunghoon @bubblegyu00 @sunpov @heeheeswifey @chartrucewhore @slut4hee @heesangs-blog @rikiwaify-blog @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @kirinaa08 @heeshlove @seokseokjinkim @brownsugarbaybee @yzzyhee @anittamaxwynnn @kgneptun @penny44224 @ribbioniki @strxwbloody @immelissaaa @heesminee3 @nshmrarki @yawnzzhoon @sousydive @yunhoswrldddd @whateverhoon @cloud-lyy @missychief1404 @ensaz008 @sunsunl0ver @binniesbabe + taglist is open!

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Hi zeta! So I received a notification today that I was ovulating and had a thought. Husband/Ceo!Cheol checking your phone as you received and notification that you were ovulating. Like my man would go crazy and be at it like the fucking rabbits.

(sorry why is this so long)

tw: dom!seungcheol, sub!reader (fem), marriage!au, unpotected sex (pls stay safe), breeding kink, mentions of kids and pregnancy, praise, use of petnames, daddy and mommy kink (they want to be actual parents), mating press, spanking, oral (f rec), cockwarming - minors dni.

@gyuwoncheol tagging her bcs she helped me to her own demise

"Babe?"

"Yes darling?"

"You have a new notification!" Seungcheol yells from the other end of the living room.

"I'll check it later, thanks!" You yell back, trying to make yourself heard through the noise of the kitchen mixer.

Seungcheol is a man who values your privacy and would never attempt the petty snooping around on your phone.

But how could he miss the bright notification of your cycle tracking app saying that you're ovulating?

He turns his head to your direction and looks at the shape of your body standing in front of the counter and his mind races at the thought of you bearing his kids and having them run around your legs in the future.

And it makes him want to fuck you until he has made sure you're pregnant.

He gets up from the couch and walks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You sure love back hugs, don't you?" You let out a small laugh.

"How can I not when I have such a pretty wife?" He hums.

"Oh, I see how it is." You turn off the mixer and turn around to face him. "Come on, out with it, big guy."

"What? Can't I just compliment my wife because I feel like it?" He pouts his lips.

"Seungcheol, you never compliment me without any reason."

"I was just thinking...."

"I knew it."

"I haven't even said anything yet!" He complains.

"Oh my God, just say it!"

"I was thinking how pretty you'd look with a belly full of our kids."

Your eyes widen with shock at your husband's blunt words. It's true that you've discussed the possibility of widening your family with Seungcheol and you know he would be the most silly and doting dad ever. But the way he looks at you and his hands tighten on your body makes you feel a tad bit jittery (in a very good way).

"Did you just think of that, or...?"

"Your tracking app said you're ovulating and I can't get it out of my damn head." Seungcheol groans.

"You checked my phone?!"

"I didn't unlock it! It was right beside me and I just saw the pop-up on the screen!"

"And that made you worked up already?" You deadpan.

"God, you have no idea." He drops his head on your shoulder and rolls his hips against you.

"You're incorrigible." You hug him with a light chuckle.

You feel his lips stretching in a grin and he throws you over his shoulder with one swift motion, carrying you to the bedroom. You complain all the way, but he just slaps your ass and puts you down on the mattress, your legs hanging from the edge of the bed.

"I am indeed incorrigible, darling." Seungcheol strips himself down to bare skin and purposefully climbs over you to grab a pillow and place it under your lower back.

"I'll do everything in my power," he hooks his fingers in the hem of your sweats and drags them away from your legs, "to get your pretty pussy," he removes your cotton panties to reveal your cunt, "full of my cum until you physically can't take more inside you."

"C-Cheol-" You watch your husband kneel on the foot of the bed, ready to use his tongue on you.

"Talk to me, darling. Tell me what you want."

"Fuck, I want your kids so bad." You moan and spread your legs, putting your hands under your knees to pull them on your sides.

"That's what I thought too." He smirks and leans down to press a kiss on your clit, followed by full-bodied swipes of his wet muscle from your puffy bud of nerves to your hole, waiting for your pussy to drip just enough to get messy.

"You're so perfect, you know that?" He brings your legs on your chest and puts your ankles on his shoulders, the head of his cock dragging over your pussy. "Perfect wife, with a perfect pussy." He whispers and slides his shaft inside you, stealing your moans with his mouth.

You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his pillowy lips, all while his cock is battering up your cunt. Your leg muscles tense up from being stretched out to their limits, but you don't want to switch up positions.

"Sweet, sweet fucking cunt, all ready to keep my cum safe." Seungcheol groans wildly on your lips, "Want to make you a mommy so bad."

"Fuck, I want you to be a daddy, Cheol, ah!" You throw your head back on the bed, watching your husband plow his hips in you relentlessly, his bottom lip caught between his pearly whites.

"W-Want a pretty little girl, w-with your eyes and lips, wanna treat her like a princess."

"And a rowdy little b-boy, so you c-can play g-games with him." You stammer over your words, but you get the message across.

"Fuck, I love you so much, darling." Seungcheol moans airily and plants his hands beside your head, rutting in you like a madman, sweat dripping down his body and a few drops landing on your chest.

"Cheol, I'm c-close." You sob.

"Me too, baby. Just a little more, please." He begs you to hold out.

You do as he says and you cum undone underneath him, his thick cock pulsing until he has emptied himself inside your cunt, not daring to pull away from you.

A few seconds of silence pass and none of you has moved yet. Your pussy clenches around his cock ever so slightly and you whimper, your legs falling limp on the bed.

"Even your pussy wants more, babe." Seungcheol chuckles and moves his cock inside you, bringing himself back to full hardness.

"You mean you've got more to give?" You pant.

"For you? Always."

[norman-fucking-reedus]

BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫

SWEET LITTLE SINNER

THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink

DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM

OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀

Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO

So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible

This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3

Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)

southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe

"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.

Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.

"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.

As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.

Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.

After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.

As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.

"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.

Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.

"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.

Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."

The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."

"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.

"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.

You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.

"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.

Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.

"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."

Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.

"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.

"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.

Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.

"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."

It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.

As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.

Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.

He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.

It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.

Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.

You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.

Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.

He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.

Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.

"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.

You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"

He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"

“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.

Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.

“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”

The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.

“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.

The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.

“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.

You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.

It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.

Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.

He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.

"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.

You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.

Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"

"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.

He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"

"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.

They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.

"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."

Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."

"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.

You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.

Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"

"Good"

"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"

Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.

He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.

There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.

Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.

"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.

He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.

"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.

You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.

Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all

"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"

It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.

But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.

"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.

Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.

"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.

Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"

You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"

"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.

"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.

"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth

"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.

Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"

You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"

The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.

He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–

"Help!"

The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.

"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.

Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.

"Anyone, help! Help!"

As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.

There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.

Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.

You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.

He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.

"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.

The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.

A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.

Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.

"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'

The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"

At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"

Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"

"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.

"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.

Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.

Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"

"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.

"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.

Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."

"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.

"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.

"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"

"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.

"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.

Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."

"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.

He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.

"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

"You said you had a church?"

You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.

It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."

"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”

“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.

Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.

He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.

Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."

"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.

"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.

Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.

Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.

There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.

By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.

"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.

Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"

You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"

"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.

Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"

"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.

Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.

"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.

You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.

It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.

But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.

There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.

Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.

"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."

"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.

Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."

"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.

Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."

Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."

"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."

"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.

"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.

The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."

"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.

It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.

"You're coming with us."

The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.

"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."

Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."

"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.

You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.

He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."

"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."

"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.

Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."

"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.

The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.

It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.

Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.

It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.

Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.

"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.

Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"

"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.

The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"

You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"

Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"

"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.

He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"

You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."

"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.

You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.

"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"

Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"

"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"

"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"

"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"

At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.

"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.

"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.

You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"

"Steal anythin'?"

"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"

"Well, everyone's told a lie"

"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"

Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"

"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.

"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.

"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"

"How would ya' know?"

You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"

Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"

"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"

The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.

Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.

But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"

"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"

You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"

Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"

"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"

Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.

Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.

His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"

"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.

"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.

"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.

"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"

"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.

"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"

You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.

It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.

"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.

He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.

You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.

It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.

"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.

"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"

"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.

It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"

You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.

Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'

"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.

Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.

He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"

You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.

"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.

Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.

Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.

When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.

You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.

"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.

This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.

Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"

"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"

Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.

It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.

Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.

Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.

He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.

But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.

You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.

"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.

Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"

You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.

Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.

He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.

"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"

Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.

Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.

He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.

"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"

Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.

Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.

From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.

“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.

Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.

He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”

That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.

"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"

Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.

With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.

When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.

"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.

The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"

You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"

He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"

The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.

"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.

Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.

His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.

"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.

"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.

He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"

Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"

"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.

"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.

"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.

"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.

Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"

You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"

"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"

At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"

"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"

The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.

"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"

"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"

"Aren't we one righ' now?"

"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"

"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"

He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.

"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.

You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.

A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"

The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"

"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.

He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"

"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.

"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"

He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"

"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"

"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"

GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.

I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be

Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

clone - a - willy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Gojo Satoru x Chubby Fem Reader ɞ

❥ Summary: You've been paired up with Gojo Satoru for a class and you've developed a crush on him. After his fraternity holds a "Clone-a-Willy" fundraiser, and your friend buys you a dildo of his dick, your feelings grow stronger. You just hope he never finds out...

❥ Word Count: 4.2k

❥ CW: chubby fem reader, smut, female masturbation, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex (penis in vagina), petnames (princess, pretty), biting

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Smart. Handsome. Rich. Gojo Satoru was all these things, and now he was your lab partner.

You were shocked when you were given the assigned seat next to him and told that you would be partners for the semester. He was so polite too, nothing like the usual frat boys you met in your other classes.

“I’m Gojo Satoru! Nice to meet you! Let’s work hard this semester!”

God, his cheerfulness was intoxicating. No wonder you developed a crush on him during your first meeting.

It was just a little crush, nothing to sneeze over, but your roommate noticed how your disposition changed in just a couple weeks. She teased you endlessly, asking for details about the infamous Gojo Satoru of Alpha Phi. She’d heard rumors, just like you, of how he was a playboy and a huge flirt, but you hadn’t experienced that in class yet, much to your roommate’s disappointment.

“Damn, I was really hoping he was an ass like everyone said, you know, just so you could say the rumors are true about frat boys.”

You shrugged it off, just grateful that Gojo was kind to you and helpful during your labs together.

But things changed when Alpha Phi held a fundraiser.

You didn’t hear much about it until you got back to your dorm after the day’s classes and had to listen to your roommate gush about the event.

“You would not believe what they did this year!” You sighed, taking off your shoes by the door.

“What did they do?”

Your roommate didn’t reply. Instead she reached into her bag and pulled out… a dildo?

“What—”

“They did a Clone-A-Willy fundraiser!”

You stared, shocked at the tan silicone toy, blinking rapidly.

“They… sold dildos?”

“That are copies of their own dicks!”

You kept staring, shocked, unsure of what to say.

“This is Geto Suguru’s dick. Isn’t it big? God, I can’t wait to use it.”

“I—”

“But don’t worry!” she interrupted, going back into her bag and pulling out yet another large dildo. “I got one for you too! Guess whose it is.”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.

“No—”

“Yes! It’s the Gojo Satoru’s dick in dildo form! Surprise! Happy birthday, happy New Year’s, happy whatever holiday you wanna celebrate!”

Your hand went to your mouth, trying to cover your expression.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I totally did. Gojo was out there selling em too, flirting with all the girls who bought his toy. And there were a lot of them too, I actually got one of the last ones just for you!”

“Ashley… This is insane. I can’t accept this.”

“What? Why not? I got it just for you. You don’t have to worry about the cost, I’m not gonna make you pay me back—”

“No! No, I… Ashley, he’s my lab partner. This is so inappropriate.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s nothing to worry about. You have a crush on him, we both know that, but unless you’re gonna start coming out of your shell and actively flirt with him, you’re never gonna get that dick. This will give you the chance to experience his dick without committing to the guy.” You rubbed your hand over your face.

“Ashley… This is so wrong…”

“Oh, Y/N, please calm down. Why are you getting so upset over this? It’s just some harmless fun. If Gojo didn’t want people to use these dildos, he wouldn’t have made them in the first place. He’s okay with it.”

“But—”

“Look,” she started, opening your nightstand drawer, “you don’t have to use it if it really makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t take it back so you might as well keep it just in case.”

You couldn’t fight her on this, not when she gave those pathetic puppy dog eyes, pleading for forgiveness.

“Alright, fine. But I’m not going to use it!”

That’s what you told her. That’s what you told yourself. But you found yourself drawn to the girthy toy in your nightstand. The next time you had the dorm to yourself, you took it out and examined it in detail. It was thick, your hand barely able to wrap around it, and it was long too, long enough to reach deep inside you, hit all those spots that your stubby fingers would never be able to reach…

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when you used the toy that same day, fucking yourself vigorously with it, making yourself whine. It felt so fucking good, filling you up so nicely, making you cum over and over again.

You cleaned and hid the toy before your roommate came back, and you promised yourself it wouldn’t happen again.

You were very good at lying to yourself. Every chance you got alone, you were grabbing that toy, fucking yourself nice and deep in between your classes. You’d started imagining Gojo there with you, fucking you good, praising you all the while for taking his fat cock. You felt guilty for it, but you couldn’t help but moan his name quietly, wishing he was there to treat you right. Would he be slow and sweet? Or hard and fast? Would he call you a good girl or his precious little slut? Would he make you cream or squirt? Your thoughts swirled endlessly as you came on the toy once again, pulling it out and panting hard.

This was getting out of hand. You couldn’t be developing feelings for your lab partner like this. He even began to notice a change in you.

“Is something wrong?” he asked one day in the library while you were working on your project together. You cleared your throat, shying away when he leaned in closer towards you. God, his cologne smelled so good—

“I’m fine,” you lied, swallowing hard. You couldn’t look at him after what you had done the day before, after you had ridden his dildo for close to half an hour, cumming almost a dozen times. You couldn’t stop wondering if he would ever try to make you feel that good.

“You sure? You’ve been acting off the last few classes, and you’re not talking as much as usual.” He leaned forward into your line of sight, smiling softly, speaking quietly. “Look, if something’s wrong, we can reschedule. Maybe we could go someplace less stressful and not as packed? Maybe the lobby of the physics building? Or we can go to your dorm if that makes you comfortable?”

Here he was, being so sweet and considerate, and all the while you were masturbating to the thought of him using a dildo that was a literal copy of his dick. You felt so ashamed, and yet the thought alone was currently turning you on, making your legs clench.

“It’s okay. I can keep working.” He gave an unsure frown but nodded.

“Alright, if you say so, but I’m serious about working somewhere quieter next time. Maybe it’d be easier to finish this at your dorm. That way you’re comfortable and not as stressed about finishing this.” You smiled at him genuinely.

“Thank you, Gojo. We can go to my place tomorrow. My roommate has classes till five, so maybe we could meet right after lunch? That should give us enough time to finish what we don’t get done today.” Gojo smiled back at you, and you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat.

“Sounds good. We could meet up for lunch if you want. I have a class at ten but then I’m free the rest of the day.”

You felt your heart pound, and you nodded a bit too enthusiastically.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

So, that’s what you did. You met at your chemistry building before walking to an on-campus cafe. You had a quick lunch, mostly talking about your project and your respective classes before you made your way to your dorm.

“Here it is,” you said after you unlocked the door, opening it wide and walking inside. You both discarded your shoes by the door before locking it and heading farther into your room.

“Nice place,” Gojo stated, looking around at the posters you had on the wall. “You like this band too?”

“Oh, them? Yeah, I’ve been a fan for a few years.”

“Really? That’s crazy. I haven’t met anyone on campus yet who likes em. What a coincidence,” he said with a toothy grin. You felt your heart flutter, but you shook your head and took out your laptop, plugging it in and sitting at your desk.

“Yeah, what a coincidence…”

The two of you started working quickly, you at your desk, Gojo on your bed with his own laptop. You were pretty quiet, making the occasional comment about your work before going back to silence. It was about an hour later when Gojo pushed his laptop to the side, lying back and stretching.

“Man, I’m beat! Thank God this project is pretty much done. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

You hummed, glancing over at him, just to find him on his phone.

“Damn, I’m at 20%. Do you have a charger I could borrow?”

“Uh, yeah. Check the drawer on my nightstand.”

You didn’t realize what you said until the nightstand drawer opened.

“W-Wait—”

It was too late. Gojo had already pulled out the toy and proceeded to stare at it. You could feel your face burn as you stood up.

“I-It’s not what you think! My roommate got it for me as a joke!” He kept staring as he sat up, making you panic. “I-I haven’t even used it! It’s just been sitting in there collecting dust, ha ha!” Gojo hummed, scraping his nail along the toy.

“Something weird is dried on it…”

Fuck, you must not have cleaned it well. You rushed to his side, pulling the dildo away from him and hiding it behind your back.

“Look, I know this is weird, and I’m super sorry, but I promise it’s just a joke! Nothing’s happened, we can just go back to studying and—”

“Y/N,” he said low, standing up to his full height, looking down at you. “Be honest with me. Have you used that toy before?”

You felt like you were backed into a corner. Your stomach was flipping like crazy, making you sweat. You couldn’t answer him, couldn’t do anything but look down at the floor.

“Have you… thought about me while you did it?”

You still couldn’t answer, but you felt yourself shrink in on yourself. You could see his fists clench and unclench in your line of sight. Fuck, he was mad, he must’ve been. Why else would he be so quiet? Maybe he was disgusted with you. Maybe he would yell at you and stomp out. Shit, what if he told your secret to all his friends? What if you became the laughing stock of your university?

“Y/N. Look at me.”

You hesitantly looked up, meeting his icy blue gaze. You were about to apologize, beg him not to say anything to anyone, promise to do all the work the rest of the semester if he would just keep quiet. But you didn’t have the chance to.

Before you could blink, Gojo leaned forward and kissed you.

Your eyes widened, hands dropping the dildo behind you as his lips moved against yours. Your hands instinctively went to his chest—you could feel his muscles through his shirt—nails digging into the fabric. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, hips pressed together. You pulled away when he licked at your lip, staring up at him, cheeks burning.

“I… I don’t understand,” you whispered, eyes searching his face. He was blushing, glowing when he smiled down at you.

“I got a confession to make, Y/N.” His arms circled your waist, keeping you flush to him. “I’ve kinda been crushing on you all semester.”

Your eyes widened, jaw going slack.

“You… what?”

“I can’t help it!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “You’re just so sweet and nice and smart and pretty! I’m sorry for throwing this on you, really I am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

You shook your head, taking a step back.

“This isn’t funny, Gojo. Don’t play with my feelings.”

“I’m not, I swear! Here, look at me,” he said, taking your hands and looking deep into your eyes. “I really like you, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t say it till now, but I’m telling the truth.”

“You… you mean it? You’re not joking around?”

“No, Y/N. I would never joke about this. I swear to God, I like you so much that it’s keeping me up at night.”

You couldn’t believe it. The Gojo Satoru was confessing to you. Not even in your best dreams did you think this would be happening to you.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you closer, leaning towards you. “Is it okay if I prove how much I like you?”

“P-Prove?” you stuttered, picking up on his flirting. He nodded, pulling you to his chest again, arms flying around your waist.

“Wanna show you how much I like you.”

You hesitated, feeling your skin burn, your cunt clenching in anticipation.

“O-Okay… you can sh-show me.”

“Yeah? Pretty girl wants me to show her how crazy she makes me?” You stifled a whine, nodding quickly, only making his smirk grow. “Good. How about you get on the bed for me?”

You found yourself complying with his demands, inching towards the bed and sitting on top, waiting for his next move. He stood between your legs, staring down at you for a good long while before his hands went down to your hips.

“Can I take these off?”

You nodded, letting him unbutton your jeans, lifting your hips so he could slide them off. Your jeans and panties were discarded onto the floor, and Gojo fell to his knees.

“Your thighs are so warm and soft,” he muttered, kneading your legs, making you leak. “I love seeing how they squish when you sit down. I’ve thought about laying my head on them way too much.”

With that, he rest his forehead against your thighs, nuzzling into you, humming to himself. He pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh, making you inhale sharply, squeezing your legs shut tighter. He clicked his tongue, weaving his hand between your legs.

“Don’t hide from me, princess. I wanna show you how I feel.”

He pulled apart your thighs, spreading them wide, revealing your chubby pussy to him. He sighed, leaning forward to place a kiss on your upper pussy, nosing his way down between your legs. He kissed your pudgy pussy lips, flicking his tongue against them, making you tremble. His slender hands trailed up your thighs, peeling apart your pussy lips, revealing yourself to him.

“Oh God… your pussy… it’s so pretty,” he spoke in disbelief, staring at you. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, squirming under his gaze.

“Please… don’t—hah!”

His tongue darted out, flicking your clit with the tip. His blue eyes stared up at you, watching your expression contort as his tongue flattened against your clit, licking it fully. He moved it up and down languidly, blinking slowly as he gained a rhythm. After a minute, he began drawing patterns—circles and figure eights. At one point you wondered if he was spelling his name because you could’ve sworn he was writing in cursive with his tongue.

You soon became a moaning mess, resting back on your elbows, hips twitching into his mouth. You gasped when you felt his finger prod at your entrance, circling it, dipping in just the tip before pushing in down to the knuckle.

“God, you’re so tight, too. How in the world did you fit my dildo inside? Fuck, just thinking about you masturbating with it turns me on like crazy.”

“I-I’m sorry f-for using the t-toy!” you whined, voice pitching when he curled his finger, hitting your g-spot.

“Don’t apologize, princess. I think it’s so fucking hot. I was hoping you would show up that day to get one, but I must’ve missed you.”

“It-It was from my f-friend.”

“Ahh, nice friend, getting you such a nice toy to play with. Shit, if I had known you were using my dildo, I would’ve confessed a lot fucking sooner. So much time wasted.”

He added a second finger, pumping the two of them in and out at a steady pace. You could hear how wet you were, your cunt clenching around his fingers as he thrust them into you. You fell back on the bed, back arching as you felt pressure build inside you.

“Oh my God… you’re pulsing around me. You gonna cum? Ya gonna cum on my fingers? Fuck, I want you to, please, I want it so bad.”

His mouth went back to your clit, forming an ‘O’ shape around it, sucking harshly. The action made you squeal, hands finding his hair, tugging at the white strands. You only made him moan against you, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy. His combined efforts were putting you through a whirlwind of sensations, hurtling you towards your peak.

“G-Gojo, please, I-I-I—”

“Go on, pretty. Let go for me. Wanna see you cum on my fingers.”

That was it. That was enough to send you over the edge. Your breath hitched, mouth falling open as you came. You gushed around his fingers, back hurting from how hard it was arching off the bed, thighs clenching next to his cheeks. The moment passed, and you could feel yourself coming down from your high.

But he didn’t stop.

You cried out, begging him to let up, to slow down, but he wasn’t listening. He kept sucking at your clit, fingers pumping quickly, making you climb towards another climax far too quickly.

“Gojo, Gojo! Please, stop, I-I can’t! Please, I—ah!”

It was too late. You were cumming again, trembling under his hold. His mouth and fingers slowed down, helping you down from your peak, guiding you back to Earth. He released your clit, pulling away, a string of spit connecting him to your cunt.

“Holy shit. That was good. Do you always cum like that or was it because of me? Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t know if my ego can take it.”

You giggled, breathless, eyes traveling from the ceiling to between your legs where Gojo was sucking your slick off of his fingers, moaning at the taste.

“God, and you taste good too. Not fair!”

You both laughed. You sat up, reaching for him. He got up, complaining for a moment about his knees hurting before he leaned down to kiss you sweetly, his tongue prodding into your mouth. You opened up for him, deepening the kiss, moaning into him. You felt good, really good, and you wanted to keep things going.

You pulled away, staring up at him lustfully.

“Do you wanna keep going?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. He blushed, huffing out a laugh.

“God, I do, I really fucking do, but…” He sighed, hanging his head. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“That’s okay,” you replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”

His head whipped up, almost busting your lip in the process.

“Really?! And you’re okay with having sex without a condom?” You nodded, making him smile. “Jeez, and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore perfect.”

He stood up, pulling his shirt off, revealing his chiseled physique. He undid his belt, eyeing you the whole time he pulled down his zipper and pushed his pants down. It was all very sexy until he tried to kick off his pants, tripping over them and stumbling to the side, catching himself on your nightstand. You covered your mouth, stifling your laughter. He chuckled as well, brushing himself off even though he was blushing hard.

Gojo joined you on the bed, helping you out of your shirt and bra, letting you lie down and relax against your pillow. He massaged your thighs as he spread them open.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” You nodded, humming in confirmation. He nodded back at you, holding the base of his cock and directing it towards your cunt. “Okay… I’m gonna put it in.”

He pushed the head of his cock into you, hissing quietly at the tight fit. He stopped once the head was in, glancing at you to make sure you were okay. When you nodded at him, he pushed in further, moving slow, steadily, purposefully. Once he bottomed out, he let out a shaky sigh, laughing lightly.

“You’re… you’re tighter than I thought,” he huffed, already out of breath as he met your gaze. “I-I’m gonna move now.”

He pulled back, leaving in just the tip before pushing back in slow, savoring every ribbed inch of your cunt. He pulled out again, pushing in faster, beginning a steady pace.

“Oh… Oh wow. You feel… so much better than I thought you would.”

“Yeah? You like it?” you asked, voice small and sweet.

“Mm-hm. Never thought I’d get to do this, ya know. I thought you’d reject me if I confessed to you.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes widening. He nodded, moving a little faster, making you moan. “I… I had a crush on you from the first moment we met…”

“You did?” You nodded, making him huff. “No way… no fucking way. You liked me all this time? You didn’t just wanna fuck me?”

“N-No… You’re so sweet and nice… I thought you were so cool, Gojo, too cool for me.”

“What? No way… If anything, you’re too cool for me.” He moved faster, making you bounce along the bed. “You’re so fucking smart. I don’t have a clue what’s happening in class half the time, but you do. And you’re so pretty too. You’re way out of my league.”

Your cunt clenched around him and he groaned, moving from his hands down to his forearms, leaning closer towards you. You moved forward and kissed him gently, making him moan in your mouth, tongues dancing as he slowed his pace just a bit. He savored feeling your lips against his, petting your hair, marveling at its texture. He pulled away to stare down at you as he started moving faster again, pumping his cock in and out of you, making you gasp.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, glancing over your figure. “I love your body. I love your curves. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you.”

“G-Gojo—”

“Please, call me Satoru. Wanna hear you say my name.” You swallowed, cupping his cheeks.

“S-Satoru… It f-feels good!”

“Yeah? Feels good? What feels good, baby?”

“Your cock… It feels so good inside me…”

“Yeah? Better than that silly dildo, right? Do I fuck you better than that little toy?”

“Mm-hm! So much better!”

His eyes rolled back and he thrust faster, hands traveling over your form. He palmed at your breast, pinching and pulling your nipple, making you whine. His mouth found your other nipple, sucking hard, making you perk up in his mouth. His tongue rolled around your nipple, mouth slobbering on it. He moved his mouth to your other nipple next, his hands moving to your belly, squeezing and molding it.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he whispered in disbelief. “How are you so fucking soft?”

“I mean… I-I moisturize…”

“But still… I’ve never felt skin as soft as yours. I kind of envy you,” he said with a laugh, making you laugh as well. “God, and your giggle. It’s so fucking cute. I just wanna bite you.” You bit your lip, looking up at him innocently.

“You… you can bite me… if you want…” His eyes widened.

“Fuck, say less.”

He dipped down towards your neck, kissing and licking at it before digging his teeth into you, biting down. You moaned at the feeling, his cock pumping even faster now that he was latched onto your neck. He sucked hard, hands rubbing your plush tummy as he fucked you harder. He pulled back with a loud ‘pop’, admiring the mark he left behind.

“Fuck, I… shit, I think I’m gonna cum. Can I cum in you, pretty thing? I know that’s a lot to ask, but I can’t fucking stand it.” You nodded quickly, moving your hand between your legs to rub your clit.

“Y-Yeah… you can cum in me.”

Satoru groaned, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, moving his fingers quickly to get you to the edge. You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow, hips bucking up to meet his. You rocked against each other, moaning each other’s names, begging and pleading for God knows what as you simultaneously reached your highs. His hips lost their rhythm, moving faster, more erratically. The unpredictable rhythm made you climax, nails digging into Satoru’s pale back as you came. He followed right after, groaning low as he released inside you. He almost collapsed on top of you as he came, bracing himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush you. His hips twitched, the last bit of cum spilling from his cock and filling you up.

The two of you were panting, rubbing your noses against each other as you came down from your highs. He eventually pulled out, watching his cum leak from your abused cunt, smiling softly. He fell to your side, sighing, pulling you towards him and kissing your cheek.

“So,” he started, smiling at you, “guess you won’t be needing that dildo anymore, huh?”

───────────────

[zmbiesuga]

TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader

sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?

warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty

notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so

"I'm not wearin' 'em."

"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"

Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.

It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.

Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:

"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."

You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.

After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"

Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.

"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."

And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.

"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."

Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.

"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"

"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."

Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.

"What was that?" you ask.

"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."

"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"

"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."

You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."

Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.

It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...

You.

The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.

You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"

"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."

[littlemissshoei]

SYLUS HEADCANONS (LAD)

sfw & nsfw — this one's in honour of my sylus smutshot doing so well heh..

content warning: suggestive / nsfw content, mentions of kinks, fluff, bad habits

i love Sylus so much guys.. Nothing's gonna top Zayne for me but he feels like a breathe of fresh air for sure!

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS enjoys teasing you. He loves trampling on all your nerves, pissing you off and driving you towards your breaking point. His sarcastic little remarks followed by the oh so innocent drop of his favourite petnames for you (kitten, sweetie) are enough to make you want to strangle him.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS makes sure you know how badly he wants you. Be it from his painfully obvious flirt attempts through text messages or how straightforward he acts when you're face to face; He wants you to know that you have his full attention and that he'd do anything to win you over.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is honest with you when it comes to his business and way of handling things. He doesn't need someone that's terrified of him by his side, hence why he decided to let you onto anything you wish to know, waiting to see just how much you can handle.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS makes sure to get you everything your heart desires. He doesn't care about what he has to do to obtain it (Both legal and illegal methods), He will get it for you with no hesitation. So when a strange package with your favourite perfume (that was sold out everywhere) gets delivered to your doorstep, you know who the culprit behind it is.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is a sore loser. The amount of times you had to drag him away from the claw machine before he went berserk on it makes you laugh. Kieran and Luke tend to tease him about it — behind close doors that is. What ticks him off even more is when he uses his evol, just to fail his much bragged about attempt too. Whenever the two of you visit the arcade you prefer staying away from any pay to win games, yet you cannot deny how cute that proud look on his face is whenever he manages to get you the plushie you desired.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS' favourite places to kiss you are your lower back, your inner thighs and your pulse points, though he prefers leaving bite marks rather than soft kisses.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS loves to mark you up. He couldn't care less about making it obvious. If he could, he'd paint your whole neck full of purple lovebites. Due to his habit, there have been way too many times where you ran out of foundation to cover them. Good thing he's rich, because he always buys you a new one (when you beg him. He prefers leaving you foundationless so you cannot cover them up.)

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is a switch. While he enjoys being the one in control, watching you squirm under him as you try your best to get used to his length, something about you taking the lead turns him on like crazy. The way your fingers graze over his skin as you tease him, pressing featherlight kisses all over his body, it turns his brain into mush.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS is very much into bondage, breath play / choking, risky situation (public / semi public sex), marking, etc. His favourite positions are reverse cowgirl (especially in front of a mirror or any reflecting surface where you can see your pretty expression), and doggy style (allowing him to do as he pleases with you)

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS gets pissed off easily when it comes to you. He absolutely despises you staying away for too long, not even mentioning you'll be home later as usual. While he doesn't like to admit it, the fear of losing you gnaws at him. Most of your arguments with Sylus have to do with your stupidity and knack for getting yourself into trouble.

﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖ ⠀SYLUS usually turns to silent treatment when he's had enough. Even though you two rarely get into arguments, whenever you do he becomes silent. He doesn't like opening up, considering emotional moments like this nothing but a hassle, a weakness that should never be exposed. The more time passes, the more he is willing to open up, but for him to talk it out with you instead of locking himself in his room and staying there until he feels better will take a whole lot longer than the mere babysteps you managed to make so far.

[hongjoongspoetry]

Baby, Love Me Lights Out | Choi San

❤️ Summary: San comes home after filming content for the Wanteez series. He's drunk and loud, but you can't get mad he woke you up at 2 AM on a work night when his silliness makes up for it.

❤️ Pairing(s): idol!San x GN!Reader

❤️ Genres/Tropes: idol AU, tooth rotting fluff, established relationship

❤️ Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), gender neutral reader, san is drunk, petnames (love, baby, darling, sannie), not beta read

❤️ Wordcount: 1.0 k

❤️ Author's Note: I had to get this one out of my system. My Yunho zombie apocalypse oneshot is like 90% done, but I needed a lil pause from all the angst and BOOM this was created. I present drunk and romantic Sannie!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form.

AO3 Masterlist Click on me!

San insisted on being dropped off at your door instead of returning to the dorm with Mingi and Seonghwa. Their manager was torn on what to do, but with enough drunken encouragement of Seonghwa slurring about young love and San being love-sick, he swerved right onto your street and helped the idol out of the car. If there was someone San could always rely on, it’d be his Seonghwa-hyung. It was decided, he was going to give him a massive hug when they’d see each other again.

The promise was forgotten the second San succeeded in unlocking your apartment (after many failed attempts) with the spare key you gifted him. It was by some miracle San refrained from shouting out his usual ‘Darling I’m home’ and just quietly exchanged his shoes for the slippers assigned to him specifically. The darkness swallowed him whole, but he had no trouble navigating to your bedroom.

The sight of your sleeping figure tucked beneath the covers set off an explosion of warmth in his chest. His face hurt from cheesing too much, but he couldn’t help himself. You looked so  cute and cuddly, like a kitten passed out from a very exciting day of discovering new things. As much as he wanted to pepper you with kisses, trap you in his arms and not let go until you freed yourself from his death grip (much to his dismay), San knew it would wake you up. San may be a lightweight, but he was a self conscious lightweight. You had work in the morning and he’d hate for you to lose sleep over his selfish need for some cuddles.

He granted himself one light peck to the top of your head and ventured back into the living room. The couch would suffice for the night. The sound of rustling sheets accompanied by your hoarse voice stopped him before he could cross the threshold. 

“Sannie?”

Said man hummed in reply and leaned against the doorway. His eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out you sitting up with the sheet pooling around your waist, hair slightly messy and sleep adorning your eyes.

“When did you get home, baby?”

“Some minutes ago,” he slurred with the brightest grin you had ever seen.

“Are you coming to bed?”

“Mhm, need to wash up first.”

“Okay,” You yawned. “Do that baby then let’s cuddle. I’ve missed you.” You laid back down in the comfort of your bed and closed your eyes with the intent to just rest them until San was done.

“Missed you too,” San said to himself as he stumbled into the bathroom.

The minutes ticked away and there was still no drunk San in your bed. You knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand. San would never pass up on a cuddle session, whether it be a two second long kiss or being wrapped up in each other’s embrace for hours, he’d be there. It didn’t take a genius for you to figure out something was wrong when the clock on your nightstand showed twenty past two and San was still not beside you. The lack of noise out in the hall added to your suspicion. It was seldom that a drunk man was silent. 

With the quilt wrapped around your shoulders and each foot tucked in your bunny slippers, you went to check on San. You flicked the light switch and lo and behold, your boyfriend laying flat on his back with each limb stretched out akin to a starfish and a pillow slapped on his stomach. He quickly threw an arm over his eyes and hissed from the sudden brightness.

“Sannie? Love? What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“I see that, but don’t you wanna sleep in the bed?”

“I am in bed.”

If it weren’t for the fatigue tugging at your eyelids you’d be hunched over from laughing too hard.  

“Love,” you started, “that’s the living room floor.”

“‘M comfortable,” he insisted and waved his other hand, urging you to let the darkness back out.

“Are you sure? Your back is going to hurt tomorrow and you still have practice for your comeback.”

“I promise, darling. Lights off, please.”

How could you deny him anything when he spoke in that honey smooth voice with his lips jutted out and one arm coming around the pillow he proclaimed as his cuddle buddy?

A few moments later, when the moon was at its highest point in the sky and the streets finally decided to call it a night, a loud noise of something dropping against the floor washed over you like ice cold water. The speed you leaped from the bed would've made long jump athletes fear for their position. The frantic shout of your lover’s name erupted before you could reach the door. Horrid thoughts plagued your mind and it worked over time to create scenarios that could have him nursing an injury. Everything from falling and cracking open his head to dropping something heavy on his feet. 

Ripping open your bedroom door, you relaxed to see him unscathed and in the same condition you left him; alive and breathing. However, the accommodation was entirely different and you understood where that loud thunk came from. San was no longer laying on the floor, no. He had somehow managed to open one of your old suitcases and shuffled inside it with his previously worn t-shirt used as a blanket.

Breathing out in relief you retrieved your phone from your nightstand and snapped a couple photos of his unconscious form folded into the bag.

“Sannie?”

“Lights off!” He whined and pulled the shirt over his face.

“Love, no. Come on. Let’s get to bed.” 

You gently took the fabric from him and slipped your hand into his, weaving your fingers together and giving it a gentle tug.

“Wanna sleep here~”

Despite his complaint, he listened to you and for the third time that night, you were back in bed but with your lovely boyfriend to keep you company. The trail of kisses you pressed on his neck, cheeks and nose were apologies for your future actions. The photos captured in your camera roll would serve their purpose sooner or later, until then you’d remind him of your never ending love and hope it would suffice as a good enough apology (it would, he could never be angry with you).

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