#and then I counted them again and was like…

[trashytracktales]

AND softdom lando with slightly unexperienced reader!!!! kill me nowwwe it cannot live only in my head

Nothing less | LN⁴

💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── No, cause you know what, anon? Let me do something about it real quick (I changed some things around on purpose, because I either go hard or go home lmao). ENJOY 💋

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𐙚 summary ──── It's their first time together, and Lando takes the lead, ensuring every touch and word is focused on her comfort and pleasure.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x virgin!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 catetegory ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, reader's first time, new relationship dynamics, soft dom!Lando, fluff & smut, descriptive language, swearing, unprotected sex, subtle exploration of emotional and physical trust in an intimate setting.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.8k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 26, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Gentle reminder that I know I have a lot of requests I need to take care of, and they are going to be dealt with, slowly but surely. Thank you for your patience 😁🤍

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SHE THINKS SHE should tell him, but she doesn’t know him well enough to be sure that Lando isn’t easily scared — or worse, that he wouldn’t walk out on her the second her little secret gets out.

They’ve only been dating for two weeks, but somehow it feels longer than that. Obviously, they’ve talked about sex before — casually, the way new couples do when everything still feels exciting and full of possibilities. But she never told him outright that she’s a virgin. He never specifically asked, and she didn’t see a way to bring it up without making things awkward.

In the midst of her chaotic thoughts, two things are certain: 1) she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, and 2) there’s no doubt he likes her. She sees it in the way Lando looks at her, and she feels it in the way his hands touch her: sometimes by accident, other times with intent.

That's why she doesn’t want to burden him with expectations or make him feel like he has to change to meet some unspoken standard. She wants him as he is: unfiltered, imperfect, and real.

It's almost midnight, and the room is drenched in a quiet intimacy, the only sound coming from the muted hum of the city outside. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against hers with deliberate slowness. The soft golden glow of the bedside lamp illuminates his face, accentuating the way his lips curve into a smile that’s equal parts teasing and tender.

“You’ve been quiet,” he murmurs, his voice a smooth drawl that makes her stomach flip. His thumb strokes over her palm, coaxing her to meet his gaze. “That nervous?”

Her breath catches in her throat, feeling it closing in from the inside, but she nods, not trusting her voice.

“That’s okay, baby,” says Lando gently, leaning in. The warmth of his breath fans against her skin as his lips ghost over her jawline. “I want to take care of you. Can I do that?”

She nods again, her heart thudding against her rib. But the way Lando is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters, eases some of the tension coiling in her chest.

She really thinks that she should tell him—

“Words, love,” he interrupts her thoughts, his tone soft yet firm. Lando's hand tilts her chin up so she’s looking directly at him. “I need to hear you, so I know we're on the same page.”

“Yes, Lando,” she replies back, his name dripping from her mouth like honey. “I want this with you.”

His smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes — desire tempered with a bit of restraint. “Sweet girl,” he says softly, the praise rolling off his tongue like a caress.

She closes her eyes, the words making her cheeks flush, but they also spark something inside her, a yearning she’s never felt so acutely before.

The air between them feels charged with so much expectancy. She knows where this is heading, can feel it in the way his eyes linger on hers, in the heat of his touch that seems to burn through her skin. The thought alone forces a wave of excitement rolling through her. At that, her body reacts before her mind catches up — her breaths quicken, her thighs press together instinctively, and a warm, insistent ache blooms low in her belly. She’s wet already, just from the anticipation, her thoughts spiraling into images of Lando gasping for air above her.

She shakes her head to push those thoughts away, just as he pulls her closer, his hands steady and confident as they frame her face. When he kisses her, his lips are so soft, moving against hers in a way that leaves no room for doubt. He’s in control, but he’s also completely attuned to her.

“If you need me to stop,” he says against her lips, “If anything feels wrong, just tell me, and we'll talk about it. Gonna need your words for this, yeah?” he continues as she nods again, making Lando puff out a small giggle, “What did I say?”

Words. Right.

“I promise I'll tell you,” she says, her voice tinged with nervousness.

He hums in approval, his hands sliding down to her waist. He moves her gently, guiding her to lie back on the bed as he leans over her. His movements are measured, his touch firm but never overwhelming. When his hands skim beneath her shirt, she tenses for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, and Lando immediately freezes.

“Hey,” he says softly, his brow furrowing in concern. “Too much?”

“No,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I just— I’ve nev—”

He doesn’t let her finish. His thumb strokes soothing circles against her hip as he leans down to kiss her again, silencing her nervous stammer.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “We’ll go slow, alright? You and I. Just trust me.”

His words are like a balm, and she finds herself relaxing under his touch. He takes his time removing her shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as if to reassure her with every move.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says, his voice low and reverent.

Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for him, and he lets her take the lead for a moment, watching her with a quiet intensity as she unbuttons his shirt. She fumbles slightly, and he chuckles, the sound soft and warm.

“Relax, love. It’s just me,” he says, leaning down to kiss her temple; a small act of tenderness that somehow steadies her racing heart.

The warmth of his lips lingers, grounding her in the moment as her nerves begin to settle. When there's no barrier left between them, Lando's hands explore her body patiently, every touch giving her goosebumps. Then, his fingers travel lower, slipping between her legs, and he freezes in place, his breath hitching.

“Ah, shit,” he mumbles mostly to himself, almost in awe when he realizes how much of a mess she is already. “So eager, you're soaked. I could just slip right in.”

The words send a bolt of heat through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement, but they also give her enough courage to take action. Summoning all her nerve, she reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his cock with a tentative but determined grip.

She guides him to her entrance, her voice quiet but impatient as she whispers, “Then do it.”

Suddenly, that's more than enough for Lando to let his instincts take over.

He exhales sharply as he pushes forward, the heat of her drawing him in inch by inch. The sensation of her wrapped around his length nearly undoes him — soft, tight, and impossibly warm. His jaw clenches as he stills for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He presses his forehead to hers, his voice strained but tender.

“So damn tight around me, baby,” he gasps softly, his hand coming to rest on her hip. “How's it on your end? Can I move?”

She nods quickly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she adjusts to the sweet stretch. “It’s—”

Good. Perfect. Heaven.

“Didn’t feel as big in my hand,” she ends up saying, making Lando laugh in a high-pitched voice.

“Not sure weather it's a compliment or an insult,” he admits, amused.

“Just give me a sec,” she whispers, though there’s a slight trace of uncertainty in her tone.

His thumb begins to stroke soothing circles on her hip, and he kisses the corner of her mouth. “Take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her.

She lets out a shaky breath, her body gradually relaxing around him. With one hand, she traces the contours of Lando's face, studying every micro expression, every mole, and the way his breath hitches as she welcomes him in.

“You're perfect,” she says softly, her cheeks flushed with warmth. “Can you fuck me now?”

Lando whines, pulling back slightly before easing forward again, setting a slow, careful rhythm. The friction is intense, almost overwhelming, and he groans quietly, his grip on her hips tightening just a fraction.

Her lips part as a soft moan escapes her, and she tilts her head back, instinctively pushing her hips to meet his movements. “Lando,” she breathes, her voice a mix of need and disbelief.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, his tone laced with affection. “Tell me what you like, what feels good. Let me hear you, baby.”

“You,” she manages, her fingers threading through his hair. “It feels so—You feel so good. All of it, please.”

The corners of his mouth raise into a small, breathless smile. “Such a good girl, aren't you?” he praises, leaning down to kiss her neck as he resumes his thrusts. “You’re doing so well for me.”

Her nails dig lightly into his back, her confidence growing with each movement.

“Faster,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a foreign desire.

His brows raise slightly as he slows down, just to tease her. “Faster? You sure about that?” he asks, his voice taking on a playful edge.

“Lando,” she repeats his name, louder this time, her hips rolling against his.

“You want it that bad?” he says in slight disbelief, his movements speeding up just enough to draw a louder moan from her. Lando studies her closely, his gaze softening even as his control threatens to slip. “Look at you, fuck. Let me take care of you. Let me—”

He swallows his words as his starts thrusting into her, firmly but never rough, his touch always calibrated to her responses.

“God, you’re taking me so well,” he says, his lips brushing against her ear. “So hot and tight around me. Feels right, hm?”

Her breathing quickens at his words, her body responding in ways she doesn’t fully understand but craves nonetheless. His hands trail lower, and she arches into him instinctively, another whimper escaping her lips.

“I know, baby,” he says, his voice thick with approval. “Keep me inside.”

Lando’s rhythm falters, then slows to an almost torturous pace. Before she can question it, he drags his cock out of her entirely, leaving her pussy clenching around nothing. A cry slips from her lips, desperate and aching, but he doesn’t give her time to protest. His length glides up between her slick, puffy folds, spreading the wetness everywhere, his movements calculated and teasing.

Not to mention evil.

“Lan...” she whines, her nails digging into his back as frustration and need overwhelm her. She isn’t gentle, her fingers pressing hard enough to sting, and he lets out a low hiss.

At the sudden pain, Lando stops entirely, his eyes snapping to hers, dark and intense. “Careful, baby,” he warns, his tone soft but laced with authority.

Sitting up slightly, he reaches for a pillow, lifting her hips with ease and sliding it beneath her lower back. When he thrusts back into her, it’s maddeningly slow, as if he wants her to feel everything. His hand moves to her stomach, pressing down lightly as he fucks his cock inside her. The sensation sends shockwaves through her body, and she cries out, her voice high and pleading as the pressure amplifies the pleasure.

“Feel that?” he asks, his voice rough with arousal. “Feel how deep I am?”

She can only nod, tightening her legs around him, her body trembling as she grips the sheets for support. But curiosity and the overwhelming sensations push her to rise onto her elbows, needing to see what he’s doing to her. Her gaze drops to where their bodies meet, and that’s when she sees it — the way her lower abdomen rises and falls slightly with each of his deep, measured thrusts.

Her breath catches, her eyes widening in awe. “Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Is that…?”

Lando notices her reaction immediately, his own gaze following hers. The corner of his mouth curves into a smirk, but his eyes burn with something primal. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs, tightening his hands around her waist, holding her steady. “Yeah, that’s me inside you.”

The realization sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her, and Lando seems to sense it. His grip on her waist tightens further, and he begins to move harder, his hips snapping against hers with a rhythm that’s still controlled but far more intense.

The room fills with the slik sound of her pussy as Lando thrusts in and out relentlessly, and her moans grow louder, her body arching into him.

“Let me feel you,” he growls, his voice deep. “Let go, baby. Let me feel you,” he repeats, over and over again.

She wraps her arms around Lando, pulling him closer to have something to support her. The way her pussy sucks at his cock, desperate and insistent, sends him careening over the edge before he can even process it.

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, his voice breaking as his hips stutter, spilling into her with a throaty moan. He can get drunk on the way she grips him, her heat, her hunger — every part of her pulling him into pure bliss.

His forehead drops to hers, their shared breaths mingling as they pant and moan together, riding out every wave of pleasure as they hit.

Her nails are still buried in his back, the sharp sting blending with the pleasure coursing through him. He winces but doesn’t stop, his body shuddering as her walls flutter around his cock, milking every last bit of him. They’re locked together, shaking, until the pleasure ebbs into a warm, lingering buzz.

After that, Lando finally stills inside her, his body softening, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he rests his weight against her. Only then does the sharp sting on his back pull his attention, and he lets out a low chuckle, his voice rough and spent.

“You really dug in, didn’t you?” he teases, his tone affectionate as he lifts his head to look at her. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk despite the ache in his muscles.

Her face flushes with embarrassment, her hands slipping away from his back, burying into his hair instead. “Sorry,” she whispers, avoiding to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he replies, his gaze soft and adoring. “It was worth it.”

Before she can add something else, Lando leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that’s the opposite of tender. It’s a stark contrast to the raw intensity they just shared, and a quiet reassurance that he’s still fully present with her. His hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing against her flushed skin as he deepens the kiss, savoring her.

When they finally break apart, their foreheads rest together again, their breathing still uneven but calming. “You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching hers.

She nods, a small, blissful smile tugging at her lips.

“Hey, don't go non-verbal on me again,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Lan?” she says softly.

“Hm?”

She swallows, her cheeks flushed, but she doesn’t look away this time. “You are… I mean, it was my first time.”

For a moment, her words don’t fully register. He blinks, his brows knitting together as if he’s processing what she just said. “First time?” he repeats, his tone slow, almost disbelieving.

When she nods, her lips parting slightly as she struggles to hold his gaze, Lando’s eyes fix on hers. His first instinct is to check if she’s messing with him, but all he sees is her wrecked, post-sex state. Her hair is mussed and wild against the pillow, her skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted as she breathes unevenly. The faint sheen of sweat on her body catches the soft light, and her eyes are glassy, still hazy with satisfaction. She looks thoroughly undone — raw and real.

And he knows she’s not lying.

The realization hits him like a tsunami, leaving him momentarily speechless. His jaw tenses briefly, and instead of speaking, he leans down and captures her lips in a kiss. It’s not rushed or frantic but deep and meaningful, his lips moving against hers with a peaceful intensity. His hand cups her jaw, kissing her like he’s claiming every part of her. Because he is. The thought makes his head spin — the fact that she’s his completely.

“You should’ve told me,” says Lando, his voice thick with emotion. “I would’ve been more careful.”

“No, it was perfect,” she rushes to assure him. “Because it was with you.”

His eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Are you even real?” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing her again; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, trailing down her shoulders and neck, where he makes sure to leave marks behind. His hands roam her body with a newfound reverence, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Gonna spend the rest of the night showing you how much you mean to me,” he says, his lips brushing against her collarbone. “If you’ll let me.”

Her heart swells as she nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, his voice a low hum of satisfaction. “Because you deserve nothing less.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[jupiterpilgrim]

The Sweet Girls' Dilemma: Three is the Answer!!

Christmas Special🎄

Ningning x Rei x Male Reader

word count: 14K

"What the actual fuck?" you mutter, standing frozen in your doorway. The scene before you feels surreal - your two ex-girlfriends, Ningning and Rei, are lounging on your couch like they own the place. They're both dressed festively - Ning in a short red dress that shows off her petite frame, Rei in a green sweater dress that hugs her soft curves.

"Surprise!" Ning chirps, jumping up with that familiar bouncy energy that always made your heart skip. "Merry Christmas Eve!"

"How did you... what are you..." you stammer, still trying to process this bizarre situation. After a long day, you'd been looking forward to a quiet evening alone, since work had made it impossible to make it to your family's house in time. This was the last thing you expected.

Rei gives you that shy smile that never fails to make you melt. "We kind of broke in. Well, not really broke in..."

"I may have kept a copy of the spare key," Ning admits with a mischievous grin. "Don't be mad!"

You run a hand through your hair, overwhelmed. "I'm not mad, just... confused as hell. What's going on here?"

The two girls exchange meaningful looks. Rei fidgets with the hem of her dress. "We've been talking..."

"About you," Ning adds, stepping closer. "About us. All of us."

"Look, we know the history is messy," Rei says, also standing up. Her thick thighs peek out from under the sweater dress as she moves. "The way things ended with both of us..."

"But we figured out the problem!" Ning bounces on her toes excitedly. "We were trying to force you to choose!"

You lean against the wall, head spinning. "What exactly are you suggesting here?"

"We want to try again, daddy" Rei says softly. "Both of us. Together."

"You don't have to pick between us anymore," Ning adds. "We can all be together!"

"Have you both lost your minds?" you ask, but your eyes keep trailing over their bodies. Fuck, they both look incredible tonight. Ning's dress shows off her delicate collarbones, slim waist, those perky little tits that fit perfectly in your hands. And Rei... that sweater dress is doing criminal things to her curves, highlighting her thick thighs and soft stomach that you used to love grabbing.

"Maybe a little," Rei giggles. "But think about it - it makes sense! You loved both of us..."

"Still do," you admit without thinking. Heat rises to your face.

"Exactly!" Ning claps her hands. "And we complement each other perfectly. Rei's the sweet nurturing one, I'm the fun adventurous one..."

"Plus we're already friends," Rei adds. "We talked it all through. We both want this."

Your mind is racing. They're right - you never truly got over either of them. Things ended with Ning because you felt guilty about your growing feelings for Rei. Then things fell apart with Rei because you couldn't stop thinking about Ning. But both of them? Together? The idea sends blood rushing south.

"This is crazy," you mutter, but you can't tear your eyes away from them.

"Crazy good," Ning purrs, pressing against your side. Her small hand trails down your chest. "We missed you so much..."

Rei steps closer on your other side, her soft curves brushing your arm. "Let us show you how much..."

"Fuck," you breathe as Ning's fingers play with your shirt buttons. "Are you sure about this?"

They answer by kissing you - Ning fierce and demanding, Rei sweet and gentle. Your head spins as they take turns claiming your mouth, their different styles driving you wild. Ning nips at your lower lip while Rei soothes it with her tongue.

"Bedroom?" Ning suggests breathlessly.

You nod, unable to form words as they lead you down the hall. Your cock is already straining against your pants just from their kisses.

In the bedroom, they push you to sit on the edge of the bed. Ning straddles one of your thighs while Rei kneels between your legs. The contrast between them is intoxicating - Ning's lithe body in that tight red dress, Rei's lush curves in soft green.

"We've been planning this," Ning whispers in your ear. "Talking about all the things we want to do to you..."

"And with each other," Rei adds with a blush that makes your cock twitch.

You groan as they work together to undress you - Ning unbuttoning your shirt while Rei unfastens your pants. Their hands roam over your exposed skin, relearning your body.

"Fuck, I missed your muscles," Ning purrs, trailing her nails down your chest.

"Still so strong," Rei agrees, squeezing your thighs.

When they've stripped you down to your boxers, they step back to give you a show. Ning unzips her dress slowly, letting it pool at her feet. She's wearing tiny red lace panties and nothing else, her small perky tits on full display.

Rei is more shy, needing encouragement from Ning to pull her sweater over her head. But fuck, the wait is worth it. Her curvy body is wrapped in green lingerie - a lacy bralette struggling to contain her full breasts, matching panties hugging her thick thighs.

"Beautiful," you breathe, drinking in the sight of them. "Both of you are so fucking beautiful."

They beam at the praise, moving closer again. Ning climbs fully into your lap while Rei kneels between your spread legs. Your hands automatically go to Ning's slim waist as she grinds against your erection.

"Want to see something hot?" Ning asks with a wicked grin. At your nod, she turns to Rei. "Come here, baby."

Your cock throbs as your ex-girlfriends kiss each other, soft and sweet at first but quickly growing heated. Ning tangles her fingers in Rei's hair while Rei's hands squeeze Ning's small ass. The sight of them together is better than any porn you've ever watched.

"Holy fuck," you groan. Your hips buck up involuntarily, making Ning gasp into Rei's mouth.

They break apart, lips shiny and pupils blown wide. "Like that?" Ning teases. "We've been practicing..."

"So hot," you manage. Your boxers are tented obscenely now.

Rei's hands slide up your thighs. "Can I...?"

"Please," you breathe. Ning gets off your lap, you lift your hips so she can pull your boxers down, freeing your aching cock.

"Mmm, I missed this cock," Ning purrs, wrapping her small hand around your shaft. "Remember how good he fills us up, Rei?"

Rei nods, licking her lips. "So big..."

They work together, stroking your length with their different techniques. Ning's grip is firm and quick while Rei's touch is softer, teasing. The combination has you throbbing in their hands.

"Fuck, that feels amazing," you groan as they take turns kissing and licking your cock. Ning focuses on the head while Rei works the shaft, their tongues occasionally meeting in the middle.

"Want to see him fuck my throat?" Ning asks Rei with a wicked grin. "He used to make me gag so pretty..."

Rei nods eagerly, watching as Ning wraps her lips around your cock

"Okay, time to show you how much I've missed this big fucking cock," Ning purrs, wrapping her lips around your throbbing head. Her tongue swirls expertly as she takes you deeper, inch by inch, maintaining eye contact the whole time. You groan as she relaxes her throat, taking your full length until her nose presses against your pelvis.

"Holy fuck, that's hot," Rei breathes, watching intently as Ning starts bobbing her head. Drool drips down your shaft as she fucks her own throat on your cock, making obscene wet gagging sounds.

"Show Rei how you used to take it," you growl, gripping Ning's hair. She moans around your length as you start thrusting up into her willing throat. Her eyes water but she doesn't pull back, letting you use her mouth roughly.

After a particularly deep thrust, Ning pulls off with a gasp. "Your turn baby," she tells Rei breathlessly. "Show him that sweet mouth of yours."

Rei leans in eagerly, wrapping her plump lips around your spit-slicked cock. Where Ning was rough and fast, Rei starts slow and sensual, taking you deeper with each bob of her head. Her soft moans vibrate around your shaft.

"That's it," Ning encourages, running her fingers through Rei's hair. "Take that big cock nice and deep. He loves it when you gag on it."

You grip the sheets as Rei picks up speed, her head bobbing faster as she takes you to the back of her throat. She gags slightly but doesn't stop, determined to take your full length like Ning did.

"Fuck yes, choke on that cock," Ning purrs. She guides Rei's head down further until tears form in her eyes. "Doesn't she look pretty gagging on it?"

"So fucking pretty," you groan. Both girls work together now, taking turns sucking and stroking your throbbing length. Ning deep throats you aggressively while Rei focuses on teasing the head with her tongue.

"My turn again," Ning demands after a few minutes. She grabs your cock and guides it back to her mouth, immediately taking you to the base. Her throat contracts around you as she gags, but she just takes you deeper.

"Show off," Rei giggles, but her eyes are dark with lust as she watches Ning's performance. She leans in to lick and suck your balls while Ning continues deep throating you.

The dual sensation has your hips bucking up involuntarily. Ning adjusts her angle to take it, letting you fuck her throat roughly while Rei's tongue works your sack.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," you groan, fisting Ning's hair as she gags around your length. Drool runs down her chin and neck, making a mess of her chest.

When she finally comes up for air, her lipstick is smeared and her eyes are watering. "Miss getting my throat fucked like that," she pants. "Your turn again Rei. Show him how much you've learned."

Rei eagerly wraps her lips around your cock again. This time she doesn't hold back, taking you deep into her throat right away. She gags but pushes through it, bobbing her head faster.

"That's it baby, fuck your throat on his big cock," Ning encourages. She reaches down to play with Rei's tits through her bra as she continues sucking you off.

Your cock throbs as you watch your ex-girlfriends work together to pleasure you. They take turns deep throating you, each with their own technique - Ning rough and demanding, Rei slower but just as deep.

"Want to see something really hot?" Ning asks with a wicked grin. When you nod, she guides your cock between both their mouths. They kiss around the head, tongues swirling together as they share your length.

"Holy fuck," you groan at the sight. Their lips meet around your shaft as they work their way down, taking turns going deeper while the other licks and sucks whatever they can reach.

"Tastes so good," Rei moans, pulling back to catch her breath. Her lipstick is smeared across your cock now too. "Love sharing his cock with you."

Ning responds by deep throating you again, gagging loudly as she takes you to the base. When she pulls back, Rei immediately follows suit, forcing herself down until her nose touches your pelvis.

"Look at these slutty girls, fighting over who can choke on your cock better," Ning purrs. She grabs Rei's hair, holding her down as she gags. "Show him how much you love it baby."

Rei's throat spasms around your length as tears stream down her face, but she doesn't pull back until Ning releases her. She gasps for air when she finally comes up, strings of drool connecting her lips to your cock.

"My turn," Ning demands, immediately swallowing your length again. She bobs her head frantically, making obscene wet sounds as she fucks her own throat on your cock. Rei watches in awe, slowly stroking herself through her panties.

"Fuck, I'm getting close," you warn them, your balls tightening as both girls continue their oral assault. They work together even faster now, determined to make you cum.

"Want to see who can take your load deeper?" Ning suggests breathlessly between sucks. "Whoever makes you cum gets first fuck later."

"Deal," Rei agrees eagerly. She wraps her lips around your cock again, taking you deep into her throat. Her soft moans vibrate around your shaft as she bobs her head faster.

"Don't hog it," Ning complains after a minute, pulling Rei off to take her turn. She immediately starts deep throating you roughly, her nose pressing against your pelvis with each thrust.

They continue trading off, each trying to outdo the other. Ning gags loudly as she forces herself down on your length, while Rei focuses on working her tongue along your shaft as she takes you deep.

"Gonna cum," you groan as the pressure builds. Both girls fight to get their mouths on your cock first.

Ning wins, wrapping her lips around your head just as you start to explode. She takes you deep into her throat, swallowing your first few spurts before pulling back to let Rei have some.

Rei eagerly accepts your cock into her mouth, moaning as you continue cumming. They take turns swallowing your load, passing your throbbing length back and forth between their cum-covered lips.

"Don't waste a drop," Ning orders as Rei sucks the last few spurts from your sensitive cock. When she's done, they kiss deeply, sharing the taste of your cum between them.

You watch in awe as your ex-girlfriends make out, their tongues sliding together as they swap your load. Some of it drips down their chins, making them giggle and lick each other clean.

"Fuck, that was hot," you groan, your cock already starting to harden again at the sight. "You two are incredible."

"Just wait," Ning purrs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "We're just getting started. I won since I made you cum first, so I get first ride."

"That's fair," Rei agrees with a shy smile, her lips still shiny with your cum and their shared saliva. "But I get to sit on his face while you ride him."

Your cock throbs fully hard again as they discuss their plans.

This is going to be a very interesting Christmas Eve indeed.

"Look how hard he's getting already," Ning notes with satisfaction, wrapping her small hand around your length. "Ready for round two baby?"

You nod eagerly as both girls climb onto the bed with you. Their mouths may have just drained you dry, but watching them share your load has you aching to be inside them again.

"Let's get more comfortable first," Rei suggests, reaching behind to unhook her bra. Her breasts spill free, making your mouth water at the sight.

"Good idea," Ning agrees, hooking her thumbs in her tiny panties. She slides them down her slim legs teasingly slow, revealing her smooth pussy.

You lie back on the bed, stroking yourself as you watch them strip completely naked. The contrast between their bodies is incredible - Ning's petite frame and small perky tits, Rei's soft curves and full breasts.

"Fuck, I missed seeing you both like this," you groan as they crawl toward you on the bed.

"Ready to get that cock inside me?" Ning purrs, straddling your hips. Her small hand wraps around your shaft, guiding it to her dripping entrance. "Been dreaming about riding this big dick again."

"And I've been dreaming about your tongue," Rei adds, pulling her panties aside and moving to straddle your face. Her thick thighs frame your view as she lowers her pussy toward your mouth.

You groan as both girls position themselves - Ning slowly sinking down on your cock while Rei hovers her wet cunt just above your lips. The dual sensation of Ning's tight pussy stretching around you and Rei's sweet scent filling your nostrils has your head spinning.

"Fuck, still so big," Ning moans as she takes you deeper. Her small body trembles as she adjusts to your size. "Stretching my little pussy so good."

You reach up to grip Rei's soft hips, pulling her down onto your eager tongue. She gasps as you immediately start licking and sucking her swollen clit, her thighs quivering on either side of your head.

"Oh god," Rei whimpers, grinding against your mouth. "Your tongue feels amazing..."

Ning starts bouncing on your cock, her tight pussy gripping you like a vice with each thrust. You can feel how wet she is, her juices coating your shaft as she rides you faster.

"Look at this slutty little pussy taking that whole cock," Ning pants, rolling her hips. "Missed getting stretched out like this."

You moan into Rei's cunt as Ning picks up speed, her small tits bouncing with each drop. The vibrations make Rei grind harder against your face, smearing her wetness across your lips and chin.

"Fuck his face baby," Ning encourages, reaching forward to play with Rei's full breasts. "Use that tongue while I ride this big cock."

Rei does just that, rolling her hips as you eat her out hungrily. Your tongue alternates between fucking into her dripping hole and flicking across her sensitive clit. Her thighs tremble around your head as she gets closer to the edge.

Meanwhile, Ning is practically bouncing off your cock now, lifting until just the tip remains before slamming back down. The wet sounds of her pussy taking your length fill the room along with her desperate moans.

"So fucking deep," she gasps, her inner walls clenching around you. "Hitting all the right spots..."

You grunt into Rei's pussy as Ning's pace becomes frantic. Her small body is covered in a light sheen of sweat as she works herself on your cock, chasing her pleasure.

"Play with her tits," Ning orders breathlessly. "Make her cum on your tongue while I ride this dick."

Your hands move from Rei's hips to her full breasts, squeezing and pinching her hard nipples. She cries out, grinding her pussy harder against your eager mouth as you continue devouring her.

"Fuck, I'm getting close," Rei whimpers, her thighs shaking. "Don't stop, please don't stop..."

You focus your attention on her swollen clit, sucking it between your lips while your tongue flicks rapidly. Her pussy floods with more wetness, coating your face as she rides the edge.

Ning's own orgasm is building too, her tight walls fluttering around your throbbing cock. She leans forward to kiss Rei deeply, swallowing her moans as you continue eating her out.

"Cum for us baby," Ning purrs against Rei's lips. "Soak his face with that sweet pussy while I milk his cock."

That pushes Rei over the edge. She cries out, her thick thighs clamping around your head as she cums hard on your tongue. You keep licking and sucking, drawing out her orgasm as she trembles above you.

"My turn," Ning gasps, bouncing even faster on your cock. Her small body is practically vibrating as she chases her release. "Gonna cum all over this big fucking dick..."

You grip her slim hips, helping her ride you as Rei recovers from her orgasm. Your cock throbs inside Ning's tight pussy, getting closer to your own climax.

"Fill me up," Ning demands, her walls clenching rhythmically. "Want to feel that hot cum deep inside me..."

Rei moves off your face, giving you a perfect view of Ning's lithe body taking your cock. Her small tits bounce wildly as she slams herself down, her pussy making obscene wet sounds.

"So fucking close," Ning whines, her movements becoming erratic. "Gonna cum, gonna cum..."

You thrust up to meet her bounces, making her scream as you hit even deeper. Her tight pussy spasms around your length as she finally tips over the edge, cumming hard on your cock.

"Don't stop," she gasps, still riding through her orgasm. "Keep fucking this tight little pussy..."

Rei moves behind Ning, reaching around to play with her small tits and sensitive clit. The added stimulation makes Ning cry out, her pussy clenching even tighter around you.

"Fill her up, daddy" Rei purrs, pinching Ning's nipples. "Give her that hot load she's been begging for."

Your own orgasm builds quickly as both girls work together. Ning's pussy milks your cock while Rei's hands roam over her sweaty body, tweaking her nipples and rubbing her clit.

"Gonna cum," you grunt, your balls tightening. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum..."

"Do it," Ning demands, slamming herself down one final time. "Breed this tight fucking pussy!"

You explode inside her, flooding her clenching walls with rope after rope of hot cum. She moans as she feels you pulsing, grinding her hips to milk every last drop from your throbbing cock.

When you finally finish pumping her full, Ning collapses forward onto your chest. Your cock slowly softens inside her well-used pussy, both of you panting heavily.

"Fuck, I missed that," she sighs contentedly. "Nobody fills me up like you do."

"My turn next," Rei reminds her with a playful smack on her ass. "Once he's ready to go again..."

You groan as Ning slowly lifts off your sensitive cock, your mixed fluids dripping from her stretched hole. The sight of your cum leaking out of her has your dick already starting to twitch with renewed interest.

"Look how wet and messy you made me," Ning purrs, spreading her pussy lips to show how thoroughly you filled her. "Want to clean me up, Rei?"

Rei bites her lip and nods eagerly. You watch in awe as she moves between Ning's legs, your cock twitches back to life as you watch Rei eagerly lapping up your cum from Ning's dripping pussy. Her tongue works methodically, gathering every drop that leaks out while Ning squirms and moans above her.

"Such a good girl, cleaning up daddy's mess," Ning purrs, grinding against Rei's eager mouth. "Make sure you get it all."

Rei moans into Ning's pussy, her thick ass swaying as she continues her task. The sight of her tongue sliding through Ning's folds, gathering the mixture of cum and pussy juice, has your cock fully hard again in no time.

"Look how hard you're making daddy," Ning points out, noticing your renewed erection. "I think he's ready for round three."

Rei pulls back from Ning's pussy, her lips and chin shiny with your combined fluids. "Please daddy," she whimpers, crawling toward you. "Need your big cock inside me now..."

"Since you asked so nicely," you growl, pulling her thick body against yours. Her soft curves press against your hard muscles as you claim her mouth in a deep kiss, tasting yourself and Ning on her tongue.

"How do you want me, daddy?" Rei asks breathlessly when you break the kiss. Her pussy is already dripping, leaving wet marks on your thigh.

"On your back," you command. "Want to watch those big tits bounce while I fuck you."

Rei eagerly lies back on the bed, spreading her thick thighs to reveal her soaked pussy. Her full breasts jiggle enticingly as she gets comfortable, looking up at you with needy eyes.

"Please daddy," she whimpers again, reaching down to spread her pussy lips. "Need you so bad..."

"Look how wet she is for you," Ning purrs, moving to kneel beside Rei's head. "Such a needy little slut."

You position yourself between Rei's spread thighs, rubbing your hard cock through her dripping folds. She gasps and bucks her hips, trying to get you inside her.

"Patience, baby girl," you growl, continuing to tease her entrance. "Beg for daddy's cock."

"Please daddy, please fuck me," Rei whines, her pussy clenching around nothing. "Need your big cock stretching my tight little hole..."

"Good girl," you praise, slowly pushing just the tip inside her. Her warm walls immediately grip you, trying to pull you deeper.

"More daddy, please more," she begs, her thick thighs trembling. "Fill me up like you did Ning..."

You grab her soft hips and thrust forward, burying your full length inside her in one smooth motion. Rei cries out, her back arching off the bed as you stretch her pussy.

"Fuck, still so tight," you groan, giving her a moment to adjust. Her inner walls pulse around your cock, squeezing you deliciously.

"Move daddy, please," Rei whimpers after a few seconds. "Need you to fuck me..."

You start with slow, deep strokes, watching your cock disappear into her greedy pussy again and again. Her full breasts bounce with each thrust, drawing your attention.

"Play with her tits," you tell Ning, who immediately complies. She reaches down to squeeze and pinch Rei's nipples, making her moan louder.

"Such sensitive nipples," Ning teases, rolling the hard buds between her fingers. "Love watching these big tits bounce while daddy fucks you."

You pick up speed, driving your cock deeper into Rei's willing hole. The wet sounds of your fucking fill the room along with her desperate moans and whimpers.

"Harder daddy, please harder," she begs, her pussy clenching around you. "Want to feel you for days..."

You grip her thick thighs, spreading them wider as you start pounding into her roughly. Your balls slap against her ass with each thrust, adding to the lewd symphony of sounds.

"Take that cock baby," Ning encourages, still playing with Rei's bouncing tits. "Show daddy what a good fuck toy you are."

Rei's moans get higher pitched as you fuck her faster, her pussy getting wetter with each stroke. You can feel her inner walls starting to flutter, signaling her approaching orgasm.

"Getting close already?" you tease, angling your hips to hit her sweet spot. "Such a sensitive little slut."

"Yes daddy, yes," she cries out, her thick thighs trembling. "Gonna cum on your big cock..."

"Not yet," you growl, slowing your thrusts. "Good girls ask permission first."

"Please daddy," Rei whines desperately. "Please let me cum... need it so bad..."

You respond by fucking her harder, making her full body jiggle with the force of your thrusts. Her pussy is practically gushing now, soaking the sheets beneath you.

"Beg better," you demand, reaching down to rub her swollen clit. "Show daddy how badly you need it."

"Please daddy, please let me cum on your cock," Rei sobs, her back arching. "Been such a good girl, need it so bad... please daddy, please..."

"Cum for daddy," you finally grant permission, pounding into her g-spot while rubbing her clit faster. "Show us what a good little slut you are."

Rei screams as she explodes around your cock, her pussy clamping down hard. You don't slow your thrusts, fucking her through her intense orgasm as she thrashes beneath you.

"That's it baby, soak daddy's cock," Ning encourages, pinching Rei's nipples harder. "Such a good girl, cumming so hard for us..."

Before Rei can fully recover, you flip her over onto her hands and knees. Her thick ass jiggles as you immediately slam back inside her oversensitive pussy.

"Daddy!" she cries out, her arms giving out so her face presses into the mattress. "Too much..."

"Take it baby," you growl, gripping her hips as you pound into her from behind. "Know you can handle it."

Ning moves to lie beneath Rei's hanging breasts, sucking one of her nipples into her mouth while playing with the other. The dual stimulation has Rei moaning uncontrollably, her pussy clenching around you again.

"Look at those tits swing," you groan, watching them bounce with each thrust. "Love fucking this thick body."

"Please daddy," Rei whimpers, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Need your cum... want you to fill me up..."

You fuck her harder, your hands leaving marks on her soft hips as you use her pussy. The sight of your cock disappearing between her thick ass cheeks drives you wild.

"Gonna cum again baby?" you tease, feeling her walls starting to flutter. "Getting close?"

"Yes daddy, yes," she sobs, her whole body trembling. "Please let me cum again..."

"Cum with daddy this time," you grunt, your own orgasm building. "Want to feel that pussy milk my cock..."

Rei screams into the mattress as she cums again, her pussy spasming around your length. The sensation of her walls squeezing you triggers your own release.

"Take it all," you growl, slamming deep as you start pumping her full of cum. "Every last fucking drop..."

Your cock pulses inside her, flooding her pussy with rope after rope of hot cum. Rei whimpers and moans as you fill her, her walls still fluttering with aftershocks.

When you finally finish emptying yourself inside her, you slowly pull out to admire your work. Your cum immediately starts leaking from her well-used hole, dripping down her thick thighs.

"My turn to clean up," Ning says eagerly, moving between Rei's legs. She spreads Rei's ass cheeks, watching more cum leak out before diving in with her tongue.

Rei gasps and squirms as Ning eagerly licks up your mixed fluids, cleaning her thoroughly just like Rei did earlier. The sight has your spent cock giving an interested twitch, despite having just cum.

"Such good girls," you praise, running your hands over both their bodies as Ning continues her task. "Taking daddy's cum so well..."

"Thank you daddy," they respond in unison, making you chuckle.

This is definitely turning out to be the best Christmas Eve ever.

You watch contentedly as Ning finishes cleaning Rei's pussy, gathering every drop of cum she can find. Both girls are thoroughly satisfied, covered in sweat and various fluids from your activities.

"Think we wore daddy out," Ning giggles, noticing your softened cock. "At least for now..."

"Just need a little recovery time," you assure them, pulling both girls close. Their different body types press against you - Ning's small frame on one side, Rei's soft curves on the other.

"Good thing we have all night," Rei says with a shy smile, trailing her fingers over your chest. "And tomorrow..."

"And the day after," Ning adds mischievously. "Hope you didn't have any other Christmas plans..."

You groan as both girls start kissing your neck and chest, their hands roaming over your body. Despite having just cum twice, you can feel your cock starting to show interest again.

"Insatiable little sluts," you mutter fondly, running your hands through their hair. "Going to be the death of me."

—

You wake up to the eerie quiet of Christmas morning, only in your boxers, the absence of warmth where you swear there were two bodies pressed against you last night. For a second, you wonder if you imagined it—the laughter, the whispers, the sinful tangle of limbs. But the faint ache in your thighs and the scent of something heady lingering on the sheets say otherwise.

You rub your eyes, half-resigned to the idea it was all some cruel dream. Until the door crashes open, a sharp burst of sound followed by an explosion of giggles. Ning and Rei storm in like chaos incarnate, balancing a tray loaded with what looks like breakfast. Both are wearing your shirts—oversized, nearly swallowing their petite frames—and nothing else except Santa hats perched jauntily on their heads. The shirts are just long enough to tease and short enough to torment.

“Merry fucking Christmas!” Ning announces, grinning like she’s just won the lottery. She strides over, her bare legs pale against the dark fabric, and plops the tray onto your lap without much ceremony. Rei follows, quieter, her cheeks pink but her lips curved in that shy smile of hers. Her thighs brush the edge of the bed as she sits, and you can’t help but notice how they press together, soft and inviting.

“Uh…” You’re still processing. “What is this?”

“Breakfast, dumbass,” Ning says, rolling her eyes like you’ve asked her why the sky is blue. “We made it for you. Well, Rei did most of it. I just supervised.”

“I told you not to add that much whipped cream,” Rei mutters, poking Ning in the ribs.

Ning yelps, swatting her away. “Yeah, yeah. He likes it sweet, don’t you, babe?”

You blink at them, at the tray loaded with steaming hot chocolate, toast, and what might be pancakes under a mountain of whipped cream. “You didn’t have to—”

“Shut up and eat,” Ning interrupts, jabbing a finger at you. “It’s Christmas. First one with the three of us. You’re eating, and then you’re getting your present.”

“Present?” You raise an eyebrow, suspicious. “What kind of present?”

They exchange a look. Ning’s grin stretches wider, and Rei ducks her head, suddenly very interested in smoothing out the bedspread. “You’ll see,” Ning says, her voice dripping with mischief.

Your stomach growls, betraying you, and you sigh, picking up the mug of hot chocolate. It’s ridiculously sweet, just like Ning said, but there’s a warmth to it that feels… right. Comforting, even. You glance at them, perched on either side of you, their legs tucked under them like they’re settling in for a long haul.

“Seriously, though,” you start, setting the mug down. “This is… I mean, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

Rei shakes her head, her voice soft but firm. “It’s not trouble. We wanted to.”

“Yeah,” Ning adds, leaning back on her hands, the movement making the shirt ride up just a little too high. “Besides, it’s kinda our fault you’re in this mess. Least we can do is spoil you a little.”

You snort. “Mess? That what we’re calling this?”

“Hey, you’re the one who couldn’t decide between us,” Ning shoots back, her eyes sparkling. “We’re just making it easier for you.”

Rei nudges her, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “Ning…”

“What? It’s true.” Ning turns back to you, her grin taking on a sharper edge. “Anyway, hurry up. You’re gonna love what we’ve got planned.”

You eye them warily but dig into the breakfast, their chatter filling the room as you eat. Ning keeps making snarky comments about the whipped cream, and Rei keeps trying—and failing—to shush her. It’s chaotic and ridiculous and more than a little surreal, but it feels good. Like maybe, just maybe, this crazy arrangement might actually work.

When you finally finish, Rei takes the tray, and Ning bounces to her feet, practically vibrating with excitement. “Alright, time for your present.”

“What is it?” you ask, already knowing you won’t get a straight answer.

Ning smirks, her eyes dark with promise. “Like I said, surprise.”

Rei stands too, her hands fidgeting with the hem of the shirt, but there’s a glint of something in her eyes—something bold and a little dangerous. “Just… go with it,” she says, her voice quiet but steady.

They exchange a glance and, as if on cue, toss off their Santa hats. Before you can say another word, they’re on you.

The taste of hot chocolate clings to your tongue, warm and sweet, as Ning’s lips claim yours, bold and insistent. Her kisses always feel like a challenge, like she’s daring you to keep up, and you never back down. The moment she pulls away, Rei takes over, her touch softer, slower, like she’s savoring every second. You’re caught between them, your head spinning, and it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

“You two are gonna kill me,” you mumble, your voice rough with affection and something deeper, heavier.

Ning smirks against your neck, her teeth scraping lightly at your skin. “That’s the plan, babe.”

Rei giggles, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your chest. “We’ll make sure you enjoy it.”

They pause for a moment, shifting their attention to each other, and you’re helpless but to watch as they lean in. Ning’s hand slides up to cup Rei’s cheek, tilting her head slightly, and then their mouths meet. It’s slow at first, teasing, their tongues brushing, testing, and then Ning deepens it, her free hand tangling in Rei’s hair. The sound of their lips, wet and needy, fills the air, and your cock twitches at the sight.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, unable to look away. “You two are fucking unreal.”

Ning pulls back just enough to smirk at you, her lips shiny and swollen. “Like what you see?”

“Always,” you admit, your voice thick. “Not sure I’ll ever get tired of it.”

“You better not,” Ning teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She turns back to Rei, her thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “He’s hooked.”

Rei blushes but doesn’t shy away, her gaze flickering to you. “Good. I don’t want to share him with anyone else.”

“Neither do I,” Ning says, her tone playful but edged with something serious. “Which is why we’ve got a little surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows lift, curiosity piqued. “Oh yeah? Gonna tell me what it is now?”

Ning grins, leaning in close enough that her breath tickles your ear. “We talked, Rei and I. And we decided… you get to take her anal virginity today. Merry Christmas, babe.”

The words hit you like a freight train, and you blink at them, your brain scrambling to catch up. “Wait, what?”

Rei’s cheeks are flaming now, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she presses closer, her hands splaying against your chest. “It’s true,” she murmurs, her voice soft but steady. “I want you to take my anal virginity. Just like you did with Ning.”

“Holy shit,” you say, looking between them. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, daddy,” Rei whispers, her eyes wide and sincere. “I want it. I want you to be the one.”

You swallow hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. “Rei, are you sure? I mean, this isn’t—”

“I’m sure,” she cuts you off gently, her lips brushing against your skin. “I trust you. Just… take it slow, okay? I want it to feel good.”

“Of course,” you promise, your voice low. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

“Damn right you will,” Ning interjects, already tugging at your waistband. She yanks your underwear down with a triumphant grin, your cock springing free. “But first, let me get this nice and wet for her.”

Her hand wraps around you, stroking lazily as her tongue darts out to lick the tip. The sensation makes you hiss, your hips jerking involuntarily. Rei watches, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip, her hand trailing down to rest on your stomach.

“Relax,” she whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your chest. “Let us take care of you.”

Ning’s lips close around the head of your cock, warm and wet, and you groan, your fingers digging into the sheets. She works you over with practiced ease, her tongue swirling, her cheeks hollowing as she takes you deeper. Rei’s kisses move lower, her mouth brushing over your abs, her breath hot against your skin.

“You’re gonna love it,” Ning murmurs around you, her voice muffled but clear. “Fucking her tight little ass. She’s been dying for it.”

Rei nods, her hand slipping lower to cradle your balls, her touch tentative but eager. “I want to feel you everywhere,” she says softly. “Please, daddy. Make me yours.”

Your head tilts back, a groan tearing from your throat. “Fuck, you two are gonna ruin me.”

Ning doesn’t hold back—she never does. Her spit drips down your shaft, glossy and obscene, as she strokes you with both hands, twisting at just the right angle to make your toes curl. Every few strokes, she leans in to lap at the head, her tongue flicking over the sensitive slit, teasing a groan out of you. She glances up, her dark eyes locking with yours, her lips curling into a smirk that’s equal parts wicked and playful.

“God, you’re so fucking hard already,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She spits again, the sound sharp and messy, the glob sliding down to pool at the base of your cock. “You like this, don’t you? Having me jerk you off while Rei’s being such a sweet little slut for you.”

Rei’s lips are soft against your chest, her kisses growing wetter, sloppier, as she works her way toward your nipple. Her breath is hot, her teeth grazing your skin before she closes her mouth around the sensitive bud. The sensation makes you jolt, a sharp gasp escaping you, and you tangle your fingers in her hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your voice rough with arousal. Rei’s whole body seems to shiver at the praise, and she looks up at you with those big, eager eyes, her cheeks flushed.

“You like that, huh?” Ning snickers, her hand squeezing the base of your cock as her lips kiss along the shaft. “She loves being called a good girl, don’t you, Rei?”

Rei pulls back just long enough to nod, her voice soft but breathy. “Yes, daddy. I love it when you call me that.”

“Yeah?” You smirk, stroking her cheek with your thumb before tugging her hair a little harder, making her gasp. “Then be a good girl and keep sucking on me. Make me feel good.”

“Yes,” she whispers, her lips returning to your chest, her tongue swirling around your nipple. She moans softly as she sucks, her nails dragging lightly across your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Meanwhile, Ning takes you deeper, her lips sliding down your length with practiced ease. She moans around you, the vibrations shooting straight to your core, and your hips buck involuntarily, pushing just a little further into her mouth. She takes it like a champ, her throat relaxing as she swallows you, her spit making everything slick and filthy.

“Shit, Ning,” you groan, your free hand gripping the back of her head. “You’re so fucking good at this. That mouth of yours—fuck—it’s like it was made for me.”

She pulls off with an audible pop, a trail of spit connecting her lips to your cock. “Damn right it was,” she purrs, her voice thick and sultry. “But I’m not done yet.”

She dives back in, her tongue running along the underside of your shaft, tracing every vein, every ridge, until you’re twitching in her grasp. She pauses at the head, her lips wrapping around it as she sucks hard, her cheeks hollowing. Her hand works your base, twisting and stroking in rhythm with her mouth, and you feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge.

“Fuck, Ning,” you gasp, your head falling back against the pillows. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up.”

“Not yet,” she teases, pulling back to kiss the tip, her tongue flicking out to taste the bead of pre-cum there. “We’ve got plans for this cock, remember? Can’t let you blow it all in my mouth.”

Rei giggles softly against your chest, her lips brushing over your skin as she whispers, “Don’t you want to save it for me, daddy? I want to feel it inside me. Please?”

Her words hit you like a lightning bolt, and you groan, your hips jerking as Ning’s mouth works you over one last time before she pulls off completely. She sits back on her heels, her lips swollen and shiny, her hand still stroking you slowly as she grins up at you.

“Ready to give her what she wants?” she asks, her voice dripping with mischief. “Because she’s been begging for it, babe. And I think she’s earned it.”

“You're right. Okay, Rei, get on all fours on the bed.”

You stand up, your eyes raking over Rei as she slowly peels off the oversized shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Her pale skin glows in the soft light, and the way she shyly glances back at you makes your cock twitch with anticipation. Without hesitation, she climbs onto the bed, her movements deliberate, her curves on full display as she lowers herself onto all fours.

"Like this, daddy?" she asks, her voice trembling just enough to make your chest tighten.

"Just like that, baby," you murmur, stepping closer, your gaze locked on the tight, pink pucker of her ass. It clenches slightly as if in anticipation, and the sight is almost enough to undo you right there.

Beside you, Ning smirks, her eyes darting between you and Rei. "Fuck, she looks good like this. So eager to please. You better give her everything she deserves."

You crouch behind Rei, your hands gripping the soft curve of her hips. "You’re goddamn perfect," you tell her, your voice low and rough. "But first, we’re gonna make this nice and wet."

Rei whimpers softly, her head dropping forward as she presses her cheek to the bed. "Yes, daddy. Please… make it feel good."

Your tongue darts out, teasing the rim of her asshole, and Rei gasps, her back arching as her body responds to the sudden jolt of sensation. You take your time, licking slow, deliberate circles around the sensitive flesh, savoring the way it twitches under your touch.

"Shit," Ning breathes, her voice heavy with arousal. She climbs onto the bed beside Rei, her fingers sliding down to part the folds of Rei's dripping pussy. "Look at her, already soaking wet. You really do love this, don’t you, Rei?"

"Y-yes," Rei stammers, her voice muffled against the mattress. "It feels so… oh god… so good."

Ning chuckles, her fingers slipping inside Rei’s slick heat, curling just enough to make her moan. "Once you feel daddy’s thick cock in that pretty little ass, you’re never gonna want it any other way. Trust me, I know."

You hum in agreement, your tongue pressing more insistently now, the tip dipping just inside her tight entrance. Rei lets out a choked cry, her body trembling as she struggles to keep still.

"Fuck, you taste so good, baby," you murmur, your breath hot against her skin. "I could eat this ass all day."

"She’s already so tight," Ning says, her fingers pumping slowly in and out of Rei’s pussy. "You’re gonna have to take it real slow at first. Don’t break her too quick, daddy."

Rei whimpers at Ning’s words, her hips pressing back against your mouth. You take that as an invitation, thrusting your tongue deeper, swirling it inside her while your hands grip her ass, spreading her wider for better access. The slick sounds of your tongue and Ning’s fingers fill the air, mingling with Rei’s breathless moans.

"Daddy, please," Rei whines, her voice high and desperate. "I need you. I need you so bad."

"Not yet, baby," you say, pulling back just long enough to catch your breath. Your lips are slick with spit and her taste, and the sight of her writhing beneath you sends a surge of possessive lust through your veins. "We’re gonna take our time. I want you to beg for it."

Rei turns her head, her eyes glassy with need. "I’m begging. Please, daddy, I need you inside me."

Ning laughs, her fingers sliding out of Rei and trailing up to rub slow circles around her clit. "Look at her. So needy. You’ve got her hooked already, and you haven’t even fucked her yet."

You grin, leaning in to press one last, lingering kiss to Rei’s asshole before sitting back, your hand stroking your cock slowly. "Alright, baby. Let’s see how much you can take.”

You kneel behind Rei, taking a moment to admire the view—her body trembling with anticipation, her back arched just enough to push her ass higher into the air. The way her tight little hole flexes, opening and closing, as if beckoning you, makes your cock twitch painfully.

“You ready, baby?” you ask, your voice low and steady, but the hunger behind it is impossible to miss.

Rei turns her head just enough to glance back at you, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide with need. “Yes, daddy. Please… I want you to make me ready.”

“Good girl,” you murmur, running a hand over the curve of her ass before spreading her cheeks apart, exposing her fully. “Gotta take this slow. Don’t wanna hurt my pretty girl, do I?”

Ning snickers beside you, her fingers still lazily playing with Rei’s pussy, occasionally brushing her clit just to make her squirm. “She can take it, babe. Trust me, I’ve seen how much of a slut she’s becoming for you.”

Rei whines at Ning’s words, burying her face into the bed. “I’m not… I just—oh god, daddy—please…”

You press your thumb gently against her entrance, teasing her with just the barest pressure. “What’s that, baby? You just what? Say it.”

“I just want you,” Rei stammers, her voice muffled but desperate. “I want to feel you. I want to take you.”

“That’s my girl,” you say, slowly pushing the tip of your thumb inside her. The resistance is immediate, her tight ring of muscle clenching around you, but you’re patient. You wait until she relaxes, the tension melting away, before pushing deeper. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Rei. You’re squeezing me already.”

Rei moans softly, her hips shifting back against your hand. “It feels… weird, but good. Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” you assure her, pulling your thumb out slowly before replacing it with your index finger. The slickness from your spit and her arousal makes it easier, but you still go slow, taking your time. “Let me know if it’s too much, alright?”

“She’ll be fine,” Ning chimes in, leaning down to press a kiss to Rei’s shoulder. “She’s tougher than she looks. Isn’t that right, Rei?”

“Yes,” Rei whispers, her voice trembling. “I can take it. I want to take it.”

You smile, curling your finger inside her, watching the way her body reacts. “That’s my good girl,” you murmur, adding a second finger without warning. Rei gasps, her back arching further as her hands claw at the sheets.

“Oh my god, daddy,” she whimpers, her voice high and breathy. “It’s so… full.”

“And we’re just getting started,” you say, scissoring your fingers gently to stretch her. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Just relax.”

Ning grins, her fingers dipping back into Rei’s soaked pussy. “She’s so wet, babe. You’ve got her dripping all over the bed. I bet she’s gonna be addicted to this by the time you’re done with her.”

Rei shakes her head, though her moans betray her. “I’m not… I just—oh, fuck, daddy, that feels so good.”

You add a third finger, taking your time to work her open, the resistance gradually giving way to acceptance. Rei’s body quivers under your touch, her moans growing louder with each slow thrust of your hand.

“Think she’s ready for you yet?” Ning asks, her voice dripping with mischief. “Or should we keep teasing her a little longer?”

You smirk, leaning down to kiss Rei’s lower back. “What do you think, baby? You ready for my cock, or do you want me to keep stretching you?”

“Please,” Rei cries out, her voice breaking. “I’m ready. I want you, daddy. Please, I need you.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” you say, your fingers thrusting one last time before pulling out completely. “I’ll give you what you need. But you’re gonna have to beg for it first.”

"I'm begging you daddy," she whimpers. "Please, I need your cock in my tight little asshole!"

"Fuck, you're so adorable like that, so needy. Alright, princess, I'll give you what you want so badly.”

Ning crouches beside you, her dark eyes glinting with mischief as she wraps her hand around your throbbing cock.

“Let me take care of this first,” Ning purrs, her tongue darting out to flick across the sensitive tip. A shiver runs up your spine as she presses a sloppy kiss to the head before sliding her lips down your shaft, her spit pooling as her hand twists expertly at the base.

Rei whimpers, glancing over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. “Please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Daddy… I’m ready.”

“Patience, baby,” you murmur, pressing her spine downward, making her arch her back even more. Her ass rises higher, her glistening folds peeking just beneath her tight entrance. It’s enough to make your cock twitch in Ning’s mouth, her satisfied hum vibrating around you.

Ning pulls back with an obscene pop, a string of saliva connecting her swollen lips to your cock. She smirks up at you, her hand still stroking as she angles your cock toward Rei’s tight hole. “She’s all yours, babe,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “Make her feel it.”

The slickness of Ning’s spit glides easily as you rub the tip of your cock against Rei’s tight entrance, teasing her. She gasps, her hips jerking back slightly, her soft cries music to your ears. “Shh, baby,” you soothe, one hand steadying her hip while the other guides you into her. “We’re going slow.”

Rei’s breath catches as the head breaches her, her body tensing, then softening under your touch. “Oh god,” she whimpers, her fingers clutching the sheets. “It’s—it’s so much…”

“You’re doing so good,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire. Inch by inch, you press into her, the tight heat of her untouched ass gripping you like a vice. Ning’s fingers trace lazy patterns on Rei’s spine, her voice dripping with encouragement.

“That’s it, Rei,” Ning coos, watching intently as you stretch her. “You’re taking him so well, like the good girl you are.”

You grip Rei’s hips firmly, feeling the tremble in her body as you push deeper, the overwhelming tightness of her ass gripping you like a vice. Her breath hitches, a soft cry escaping her lips as her fingers claw at the sheets. “It hurts,” she whimpers, her voice trembling, but she doesn’t pull away. She stays still, obedient, her back arching slightly to give you better access.

“I know, baby,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss between her shoulder blades. “You’re doing so good. Just breathe, okay? Let me in slowly.”

Ning crawls closer, her hands gliding over Rei’s trembling thighs. “That’s it,” she whispers, her lips brushing against Rei’s ear as her fingers stroke soft circles over her skin. “You’re such a good girl for him, Rei. Taking his cock so deep in that tight little ass… You’re perfect.”

Rei’s breath comes in short, shaky gasps, her body taut beneath you. Every inch you press into her feels like a battle, her tightness squeezing you so hard it almost makes you dizzy. But she doesn’t pull away. She takes it, her resolve clear in the way she pushes back against you, even as her whimpers grow louder.

“Good girl,” Ning purrs, kissing the back of Rei’s neck. Her hands glide upward, cupping Rei’s breasts. Ning teases her, pinching one nipple lightly, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “See? You can take it. You’re made for this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Rei breathes, her voice barely a whisper. “I… I can do it. I want to do it—for you, daddy.”

Your cock twitches inside her at her words, the way her voice shakes but stays determined. You pull back slightly, the slickness of Ning’s saliva making it easier, then press forward again, inching deeper. Rei moans loudly this time, her head dropping forward as her body clenches around you.

“Relax, baby,” you say, your voice low and steady. One hand slips around to stroke her stomach, grounding her. “I’ve got you. You can take it.”

Ning leans in, her lips finding Rei’s cheek, then her jawline, soft and reassuring. “You’re doing so well,” she murmurs. Her free hand slides lower, brushing over Rei’s swollen clit, her touch feather-light. “Feel that? You’re so wet, Rei. You’re loving this, even if it hurts a little. You’re so fucking strong.”

Rei cries out as Ning’s fingers work her clit in slow, teasing circles, her body trembling but yielding under you. “Ning,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “Oh god, I—”

“She loves it,” Ning says, grinning wickedly at you as she increases the pressure on Rei’s sensitive nub. “Look at her, babe. She’s taking your cock so deep, so perfectly. She just needs a little help relaxing.”

Rei’s breathing turns into soft moans, her body slowly opening up as you sink the last inch inside her. The tight, velvety grip around your cock is almost unbearable, but you hold still, letting her adjust. Ning doesn’t stop, her lips peppering kisses down Rei’s neck and shoulders, her fingers working her clit with practiced ease.

“Daddy,” Rei whimpers, her voice raw. “It’s—it’s so much, but it feels…”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Ning finishes for her, her grin sharp as she kisses Rei’s parted lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Rei. So perfect for him.”

Rei nods weakly, her body relaxing just enough for you to start moving. You pull out slowly, almost all the way, before pushing back in, setting a deliberate, careful rhythm. Each thrust makes her moan louder, her cries a mixture of lingering pain and growing pleasure. Ning stays close, her hands roaming Rei’s body, her kisses keeping her grounded as you fuck her slowly, thoroughly.

“You’re mine,” you growl, gripping her hips tighter as you thrust into her. “Every part of you, Rei. You were made for me.”

“Yes, daddy,” Rei gasps, her voice high and breathless. “I’m yours. All of me. Please don’t stop.”

Your grip on Rei’s hips tightens, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you rock into her. Her ass clenches so tightly around you that every movement feels like it's pulling you deeper into an impossible grip, her body almost fighting you but yielding all the same. Rei’s gasps and broken cries fill the room, each one edged with pain but dripping with determination.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” you groan, leaning forward so your chest brushes her back. “I’m barely inside, and you’re squeezing me like you’re trying to keep me there.”

Rei shudders beneath you, her head hanging low, her damp hair clinging to her flushed cheeks. “I-I’m trying,” she whimpers, her voice trembling. “I w-want all of you, daddy. I’ll do it. Just—just don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” you growl, your voice dripping with praise and possession. “You’re so fucking brave, taking me like this. You’re going to let me ruin that tight little ass of yours, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” she gasps, her body trembling but arching back to meet you, her knees threatening to buckle. “I want it. Please, fuck me harder. I’ll be good—I’ll be so good for you.”

Your cock throbs inside her at her words, the way her voice shakes but carries no hesitation. You lean back, spreading her cheeks wider to watch yourself disappear into her. The sight is obscene—her hole stretched taut around your thick length, swallowing you inch by inch. “Look at this,” you hiss, one hand gripping the base of her spine while the other keeps her spread. “You’re so fucking small, and you’re still taking me like the perfect little slut you are.”

Ning, sprawled beside you, lets out a breathless laugh, her bare thighs glisten in the morning light as she runs her fingers between them, biting her lip. “God, you’re so fucking hot like this, Rei,” she murmurs, her tone dripping with arousal. “Taking him so deep, even though it hurts. You’re such a good girl, baby. You’re making me so wet just watching you.”

Rei lets out a choked moan, her body trembling harder as you begin to move faster, your thrusts growing more deliberate. “Fuck, daddy—it’s—oh god, it’s so much,” she cries, her voice high and breathless.

“You can handle it,” you snap, your tone sharp but full of pride. “You’re my brave little slut, aren’t you? You want this. You’ve been begging for it.”

Her head nods weakly, her voice breaking as she whimpers, “Yes, daddy. I w-want it. Please don’t stop. I’ll take it—I’ll take all of it.”

Your pace increases gradually, each thrust forcing a loud cry from her lips. She’s trembling under you, her body taut but pliant, her ass rising higher as you hold her open. Every plunge into her is met with her tight walls gripping you harder, the resistance making you groan in pleasure.

“Fuck, Rei,” you growl, your hands sliding down to squeeze her ass cheeks as you spread her even wider. “You’re so goddamn tight. I could stay buried in this perfect ass all night.”

Ning moans softly, her fingers working faster against her clit as she watches. “Keep talking to her,” she gasps, her other hand teasing her breasts. “She loves it. Tell her how good she’s being. Tell her how fucking perfect she looks with your cock stretching her like that.”

You lean down, your chest pressing against Rei’s back as you pick up speed, each thrust making her cry out louder. “You’re taking it so fucking well, baby,” you murmur against her ear, your voice rough. “You’re mine, Rei. Every part of you belongs to me, and I’m going to make sure you feel it every time you move tomorrow.”

Her moans are ragged now, her fingers clutching the sheets so tightly her knuckles are white. “Oh god,” she whimpers, her voice raw. “It hurts, daddy—but it feels—fuck—it feels so good. Please, don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping,” you promise, your voice harsh with lust. “You’re gonna take everything I give you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she cries, her body shaking beneath you. “Yes, daddy. I’ll take it all. Please—please just keep fucking me.”

Your hips snap forward harder, faster now, the slick sounds of your cock sliding into her filling the room. Rei’s cries grow louder, her voice breaking with every thrust, but she doesn’t pull away. She braces herself, pushing back against you, her determination driving you wild.

“Fuck, look at her,” Ning breathes, her fingers moving in frantic circles over her clit. “She’s so fucking beautiful like this, isn’t she? Taking your cock like a goddamn champ.”

You smirk, gripping Rei’s hips harder as you slam into her, your thrusts deep and relentless now. “She’s perfect,” you growl, your voice dripping with possession. “This tight little ass was made for me.”

Rei sobs out a moan, her body shaking violently. “Daddy,” she whimpers, her voice barely audible over the sounds of your thrusts and Ning’s breathless cries. “I’m yours. Use me like your fucktoy. Please—don’t stop. I want it all.”

Your cock throbs inside her, the heat of her body driving you closer to the edge. “Yeah, you’re mine, Rei,” you groan, your voice rough and commanding. “Every part of you. And I’m not stopping until I ruin this perfect little ass.”

Your hips drive into Rei with a relentless rhythm now, the sound of your body meeting hers echoing sharply in the room. Rei's screams tear through the air, a blend of agony and pleasure so raw it sends a pulse of heat straight to your cock. Her face is buried in the sheets, her hair a damp mess as her ass rocks back to meet you, even as her legs shake from the effort.

“Fuck, daddy!” she wails, her voice breaking on the edge of a moan. “It—it hurts so much, but it feels—oh god—it feels so good! Please, don’t stop!”

“Goddamn, look at her,” Ning pants from her place beside you, her fingers slick as they work her clit in tight, desperate circles. She’s watching intently, her eyes drinking in the sight of Rei’s stretched, trembling body taking you over and over. Her lips curve into a wicked grin, her voice low and sultry as she says, “You should spank her.”

Your hips falter for a brief second, and you glance at her, sweat dripping from your brow. “Yeah?” you growl, your hands gripping Rei’s shaking hips tighter.

“Fuck yes,” Ning breathes, licking her lips. “Have you not noticed yet, babe? She loves it. The pain, the stretch—it’s driving her fucking wild. Behind that sweet, innocent face, she’s a filthy little whore who needs it.”

Rei lets out a choked gasp, her moans breaking as her body trembles harder beneath you. “N-Ning,” she stammers, her voice muffled by the sheets, but there’s no denial in her tone. Only embarrassment. And arousal.

“Is that true, Rei?” you ask, your voice dropping to a growl. You lean down, pressing your chest to her back as your cock drives even deeper into her ass. “Are you just a dirty little slut who loves the pain?”

Rei hesitates for a moment, her breath coming in shallow gasps, before she nods weakly, her voice trembling as she whispers, “Yes, daddy.”

“That’s my girl,” Ning purrs, her fingers dipping lower, slipping into her dripping pussy as she watches with a hungry grin. “Told you. She’s a whore for it. She wants you to use her, to hurt her, to make her scream. Isn’t that right, Rei?”

Rei’s face burns crimson, but she moans loudly, her body tightening around you as she stammers, “Y-yes, it’s true! I love it—oh god—I love it when you hurt me!”

Your cock throbs at her confession, and your lips curl into a dark smile. “Then you’ll fucking love this,” you growl, raising your hand and bringing it down hard on her ass. The slap echoes through the room, sharp and loud, and Rei screams, her body jolting forward as her cheeks jiggle from the impact.

“Fuck!” Rei cries, her voice high and ragged. “Do it again, daddy! Please, spank me!”

Ning’s laughter is breathless, her hand working faster between her legs as she watches. “See? I told you. She fucking loves it.”

You don’t hesitate, your hand coming down again, harder this time. Rei’s scream turns into a moan, her back arching as her ass turns a delicious shade of red. “You like that, baby?” you growl, your hand rubbing the stinging flesh before delivering another sharp slap. “You like feeling my hand on your ass while I fuck you like the little whore you are?”

“Yes, daddy!” Rei sobs, her voice thick with tears and lust. “I love it! I love it so much—oh god, don’t stop!”

Your hand rains down on her, each slap harder than the last, her cheeks bouncing beautifully with every impact. The sound of your hand meeting her skin mixes with her broken cries and moans, filling the room with an almost primal rhythm. Her body clenches tighter around you with each strike, driving you closer to the edge.

“Look at her,” Ning murmurs, her voice husky with arousal. Her fingers plunge into herself faster, her other hand squeezing her breast as she watches the scene unfold. “She’s such a fucking mess, and it’s perfect. Keep going, babe. Spank her harder. Make her feel it.”

You oblige, your hand coming down harder, leaving bright red marks on her pale skin. Rei’s cries grow louder, her voice hoarse, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she pushes back against you, her ass rising higher, begging for more.

“You’re such a good girl,” you growl, slamming into her harder, your cock driving deep into her tight, trembling hole. “Taking everything I give you. You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Rei screams, her voice breaking. “I love it, daddy! I love being your dirty little slut!”

“That’s right,” Ning moans, her hips rocking as she fingers herself desperately. “You’re his filthy little whore, Rei. And you love every second of it.”

Your pace becomes merciless, every thrust a deep, punishing drive into Rei’s tight, trembling ass. Her high-pitched screams ring through the room, a symphony of pain and pleasure that pushes you further, makes your cock throb as her body writhes beneath you. Her hole squeezes you so tightly, it feels like she’s trying to pull you in deeper with every desperate moan.

“Fuck, baby,” you growl, slamming into her with a brutal rhythm that makes her ass ripple with each impact. “You’re screaming so loud for me. You love it, don’t you? You love how I’m wrecking your perfect little ass.”

“Yes, daddy!” Rei cries, her voice shaking, her hands clawing at the sheets as her whole body quivers. “I love it—I love how it hurts! Please, don’t stop!”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Ning chimes in, her voice breathless and full of raw heat as she kneels beside Rei, her body gleaming with sweat. Her fingers slide between her slick thighs, teasing her own dripping cunt as she watches the scene unfold. “She’s about to cum, babe. I can see it. She’s such a filthy little slut, she’s going to cum with your cock in her ass. Isn’t that right, Rei?”

Rei nods frantically, her face buried in the sheets as she screams, “I’m so close, daddy! Please, please make me cum! I need it—I want to cum with your cock in my ass!”

Her desperation sends a surge of heat through you, and you tighten your grip on her hips, pulling her back to meet every brutal thrust. Your free hand comes down on her ass again, hard, the slap echoing through the room as her skin turns a deeper shade of red. “You want to cum for me, baby?” you growl, spanking her again. “Then take it. Take all of me.”

Rei’s cries reach a fever pitch as you go all out, slapping her ass with every thrust, her cheeks bouncing under the force. “Fuck!” she screams, her voice breaking. “Daddy—I’m—I’m gonna—oh god, I’m cumming!”

You feel it—the way her body tightens, her ass clenching impossibly around you as she lets out a scream so loud and raw it sends shivers down your spine. Her whole body trembles violently, her knees giving out as she collapses onto the bed, her moans turning into soft, breathless sobs.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your voice rough and full of pride. You slow your movements, savoring the way her body spasms around you, milking every last ounce of pleasure from her. “That’s my good fucking girl. You came so hard, didn’t you?”

Rei whimpers, her face buried in the sheets, too wrecked to form words. Ning moves closer, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she kneels beside her, reaching down to spread Rei’s ass cheeks. “Look at this,” Ning purrs, her tone dripping with admiration. “You destroyed her, babe. Her hole’s all red and swollen, and she’s still twitching from it. God, Rei, you’re so fucking hot like this.”

Rei lets out a soft whine, her exhausted body melting into the mattress as Ning leans down, her lips brushing Rei’s trembling shoulder. “You’re so perfect,” Ning whispers, her voice gentle but full of desire. She presses a kiss to Rei’s neck, then her cheek, before capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Their mouths move together, soft and slow at first, before Ning’s tongue slips inside, claiming Rei in a way that’s both comforting and carnal.

Rei moans weakly into the kiss, her body still trembling as Ning pulls back, her lips shiny and swollen. “You did so well, baby,” Ning murmurs, brushing Rei’s hair back from her damp face. “But now it’s my turn.”

Ning flashes you a wicked grin as she slides off the bed, helping Rei move to the side. Rei watches, her breathing still ragged, as Ning crawls onto the mattress, positioning herself on all fours. Her bare ass sways enticingly as she looks over her shoulder at you, her eyes dark with lust.

“Come on, babe,” she purrs, spreading her knees wider to give you a perfect view of her dripping pussy. “Rei got her turn. Now it’s mine. Fuck me like the filthy slut I am.”

Ning’s ass sways temptingly, her smooth skin practically glowing under the soft light. You can’t resist the way she presents herself, so eager and proud, her legs spread wide, her hips tilted just right. Your hand comes down on her ass with a loud, sharp slap, the sound ringing through the room as her flesh jiggles under the impact.

“Fuck!” Ning gasps, her back arching deeper as she throws a playful smirk over her shoulder. “God, I missed that.”

You run your hand over the reddened spot, squeezing her cheek roughly. “And I missed fucking this perfect little ass,” you growl, your voice thick with anticipation. “It’s been too fucking long, Ning. I’ve been dying to wreck you again.”

She grins, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Then stop teasing and do it already,” she purrs, wiggling her hips. “You know how much I love the way you stretch me open. Make me feel it.”

You lean down, spitting directly onto her tight hole, the warm saliva glistening as it slides over her skin. She shivers at the sensation, a low, needy moan spilling from her lips. Your fingers spread the slick wetness over her entrance, circling it teasingly, pressing just enough to make her squirm beneath your touch, her hips wriggling in desperate anticipation.

“God, you’re still so fucking tight,” you mutter, pressing the tip of your cock against her hole. Ning pushes back against you, her body relaxed, welcoming. “Even after all the times I’ve fucked you, your ass feels like it’s trying to swallow me whole.”

“That’s because it’s yours,” she shoots back, her voice breathy but bold. “This ass was made for you, babe. So quit talking and fill me already.”

You chuckle darkly, gripping her hips as you push forward. The head of your cock breaches her, her tight heat wrapping around you like a vice. Ning hisses, her fingers gripping the sheets as she adjusts to the intrusion, but there’s no hesitation in her body—only want.

“Fuck, Ning,” you groan as you slide deeper, inch by inch. “You’re still so fucking tight. But you take it so well. Look at this ass, swallowing me like it’s hungry for it.”

“God, yes,” Ning moans, her voice trembling with need. “I love it—I love how you fill me, how deep you get. Keep going, babe. Give me all of it.”

You sink in fully, her ass clenching around you as if refusing to let you go. She lets out a guttural moan, her body shuddering as she pushes back against you, taking you to the hilt. “That’s it,” you growl, your hands spreading her cheeks to watch how perfectly her body grips you. “Good fucking girl. You’re taking me so deep already.”

“Fuck, daddy,” Ning gasps, her voice dripping with lust. “You’re so big—I can feel every inch. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

You pull back slowly, almost all the way out, before slamming back in, earning a sharp cry from her lips. Her body trembles under your grip, but she doesn’t falter. She pushes back to meet you, her ass bouncing beautifully with every thrust.

“Goddamn,” you mutter, picking up your pace, the sound of your hips meeting her echoing through the room. “I could fuck this ass every day and never get tired of it. You feel so fucking good, Ning.”

“Do it,” she moans, her voice high and desperate. “Use me. Fuck me like the dirty slut I am. I want it—I need it.”

Your thrusts grow harder, faster, the slick heat of her body making it impossible to hold back. “You love this, don’t you?” you growl, spanking her ass again. “You love being fucked like this, having your ass stretched open just for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Ning cries, her voice cracking as her body rocks under your assault. “I fucking love it! God, you fuck me so good. I want more—I need more!”

You grip her hips tighter, driving into her with abandon now, her cries spurring you on. “That’s my girl,” you snarl, watching the way her body takes you so perfectly. “You take everything I give you. You’re so fucking good for me, Ning.”

“Fuck, babe,” Ning pants, her voice breathless but full of bliss. “You’re gonna ruin me. But I fucking love it. Keep going—don’t stop. I want you to wreck me.”

Your rhythm quickens, every thrust deep and punishing, sending shockwaves through Ning’s body. Her cries grow louder with each snap of your hips, a mix of guttural moans and filthy encouragement that drives you to go even harder. Her ass swallows you completely, the tight heat pulling you in, her body taking every inch like it’s exactly what she was made for.

“Fuck, Ning,” you growl, your fingers digging into her hips as you hammer into her. “You’re so goddamn tight. How do you still feel like this after everything? Like your ass is squeezing me on purpose.”

Ning glances back at you, her face flushed, her lips curled into a cocky grin despite the way her body trembles. “Because I love it,” she pants, her voice thick with lust. “I love the way you stretch me. I love the way you fuck me like you’re trying to break me. Give me more, babe. Don’t hold back.”

Her words ignite something feral in you, and you grip her even harder, slamming into her with a force that makes her gasp, her hands clutching at the sheets to keep herself steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, mingling with her cries and the wet, obscene slickness of her taking you so easily.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Rei sitting up on the bed, her wide eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of her. Her cheeks are still flushed from her own wrecking, her lips parted as she watches Ning being fucked mercilessly, her small hands fidgeting with the sheets.

“Enjoying the show, baby?” you ask, your voice rough, teasing, as you deliver a sharp slap to Ning’s ass. The smack echoes, her cheek bouncing under your palm, drawing a loud moan from her lips.

Rei blinks, her breath hitching as she meets your gaze. “I—I didn’t know she could take it like that,” she murmurs, her voice soft but tinged with awe. “She’s... she’s amazing.”

“Damn right I am,” Ning gasps, throwing a glance over her shoulder. Her grin is wild, her eyes blazing as she moans, “You better be taking notes, Rei. This is how a good slut takes it. Isn’t that right, babe?”

You smirk, delivering another sharp thrust that makes Ning cry out, her ass clenching around you. “She’s not wrong,” you say, your voice thick with pride. “Ning’s a fucking champ. Always has been. Look at her, Rei. She’s taking my cock so deep, begging for more, like the filthy little whore she is.”

Rei’s cheeks darken, her thighs pressing together as she squirms, clearly affected by the raw intensity of your words. Ning notices, her grin widening as she throws another taunt her way. “You like watching, don’t you, Rei? You like seeing how he wrecks me? Bet it’s making you wet again already.”

Rei stammers, her eyes darting down, but she doesn’t deny it. Ning laughs breathlessly, her body rocking forward with every thrust, her cries growing higher, more desperate. “God, babe,” she moans, her fingers clutching at the sheets as she pushes back against you. “Harder. I want to feel you fucking destroy me.”

Your grip tightens on her hips, your pace turning brutal, each thrust making her ass ripple, her moans breaking into incoherent cries. “You want me to ruin you, Ning?” you snarl, your voice rough as your cock drives deeper. “You want me to fuck this tight ass so hard you feel it for days?”

“Yes!” she screams, her head dropping forward as her body shakes under the force. “Fuck me harder, daddy! Wreck me—make me yours!”

Rei’s small gasp catches your ear, her wide eyes watching every moment, every movement of your hips, the way Ning’s body takes you without hesitation. “You see this, Rei?” you say, your voice commanding even as your thrusts grow frantic. “This is what it looks like to give everything to me. To let me take you however I want.”

Rei nods weakly, her breath coming in shallow pants, her hands gripping the sheets tightly as her gaze stays locked on the two of you. Ning moans louder, her body arching as she cries out, “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck—don’t stop! I need it, babe—I need you to fucking ruin me!”

Your cock drives into Ning’s ass with deliberate, deep thrusts now, your pace slowing but losing none of its intensity. Each stroke makes her moan loudly, her body quaking as she takes every inch of you like she was made for it. The way her ass grips you so tightly, the soft, wet sounds filling the room, it’s all enough to make your head spin.

But then your eyes catch Rei. She’s sitting on her knees, her thighs pressed tightly together, her lips parted as she watches with wide, hungry eyes. She looks like she’s trying to stay still, but her body betrays her—the small, involuntary shifts of her hips, the way her hands clutch at the sheets. She’s boiling with lust, practically trembling with it, and it’s clear she wants more.

You smirk, slowing your thrusts just enough to tease Ning, who whines in protest, trying to push back against you. “Hold on, Ning,” you say, your voice low and commanding. “I think Rei wants to join the fun. Don’t you, baby?”

Rei blinks, her cheeks flushing as she stammers, “I—I…”

“Get on all fours,” you order, cutting her off. Your tone leaves no room for argument, and Rei obeys immediately, crawling onto the bed until she’s beside Ning. She looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes, but there’s nothing innocent about the way her body shivers with anticipation.

“That’s my good girl,” you murmur, running a hand down her back as she settles into position. “Now stay still. Let me take care of both of you.”

You pull out of Ning’s tight ass with a groan, her body clinging to you as if it doesn’t want to let go. Your cock throbs, slick and dripping with saliva and her arousal, as you turn to Rei. She’s trembling on all fours beside Ning, her eyes full of desperation, her pussy glistening with need.

“Your turn, baby,” you say, your voice low and commanding, as you guide the head of your cock to her soaked folds. You tease her entrance, rubbing the tip against her slit, drawing a shaky gasp from her lips. “You want this, don’t you? You’ve been sitting there, watching, dripping for me.”

“Yes, daddy,” Rei moans, her voice trembling with need. “I want it so bad. Please, fuck me. Fill me up.”

You push into her slowly, savoring the way her pussy stretches around you, impossibly tight and hot, like her body was made for you. Rei cries out, her back arching as you sink in deeper, inch by inch, until you’re buried to the hilt. Her walls clench around you, pulsing, drawing you in further.

“Fuck, Rei,” you groan, gripping her hips as you give her a deliberate thrust that makes her whimper. “You’re so fucking tight. You feel incredible, baby.”

Rei’s voice breaks as she moans, her fingers clutching the sheets. “Oh god, daddy. You’re so big—I can feel every inch. Please, don’t stop.”

Behind you, Ning lets out a breathless laugh, shifting to press her chest against the mattress, her ass raised high in the air. “Don’t forget about me, babe,” she purrs, wiggling her hips. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You smirk, pulling out of Rei with a wet, obscene sound that makes her whimper. “Don’t worry,” you say, sliding back into Ning’s ass in one smooth thrust. “I’m not leaving either of you wanting.”

Ning gasps loudly, her back arching as her body clamps around you. “Fuck, yes!” she moans, pushing back against you. “That’s it, babe. I’ve missed this—missed you wrecking me like this.”

Your rhythm builds, switching between them, your cock plunging deep into Rei’s tight, wet pussy before sliding back into Ning’s ass. Their cries blend together, filling the room with filthy harmony, each thrust earning a moan, a gasp, or a scream as you take them both.

“Look at you two,” you growl, your hands gripping their hips as you alternate between them. “Side by side, letting me use you however I want. You’re both so fucking perfect.”

Rei whimpers, her voice high and breathless. “Daddy, you feel so good,” she cries, her body trembling beneath you. “I love it—I love the way you fuck me.”

“Goddamn, Rei,” Ning breathes, glancing over at her with a wicked grin. “Listen to yourself. You’re such a good little slut for him. Look at you, taking his cock so well.”

You slap Ning’s ass hard, the sound sharp and loud, making her cry out. “You’re both filthy little sluts,” you say, your tone full of pride and possession. “Taking turns on my cock, moaning for me like this. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Ning’s laughter turns into a moan as you pound into her harder, her ass bouncing under your grip. “Keep going,” she gasps, her voice hoarse but full of need. “Wreck me, babe. Make me feel it. I want to be sore tomorrow.”

You pull out of Ning with a wet pop, slamming back into Rei’s pussy, her body jerking forward with the force. She screams, her nails digging into the sheets as her walls tighten around you. “Daddy,” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I—I’m so close. Please, don’t stop. I need to cum.”

Your grip tightens on her hips as you thrust harder, faster, driving her toward the edge. “Then fucking do it,” you growl, your voice harsh. “Show me how good you are. Cum for me, baby.”

Rei's body trembles beneath you as you pound into her pussy, the sound of wet, slick thrusts mixing with her desperate cries. Her hands clutch at the sheets, her back arching as you drive deeper, your cock stretching her in ways that have her gasping for air. Her moans are high-pitched, frantic, every sound dripping with need.

"Daddy!" she wails, her voice breaking as her thighs start to shake. "I—I'm gonna cum! Please, don't stop! I can't hold it—I'm so close!"

You grip her hips tighter, your thrusts growing rougher, faster, as you chase her over the edge. "Do it," you growl, slamming into her harder. "Cum for me, Rei. Show me what a good little slut you are."

Her scream tears through the room, raw and guttural as her orgasm slams into her. Her pussy clenches around your cock, a vice of molten heat, her body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through her. She sobs into the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as her juices coat your cock, dripping down her thighs.

"Fuck," you mutter, watching her fall apart. "You're so goddamn perfect, baby. Look at you, cumming so hard on my cock. You love it, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy!" she cries, her voice trembling. "I love it—I love how you make me feel!"

As Rei collapses forward, her body spent and trembling, you pull out and immediately turn your attention to Ning. Her ass is still raised, swaying slightly, her cheeks red and marked from your earlier slaps. She glances back at you, her grin wicked despite the way her body trembles with anticipation.

"Come on, babe," she purrs, wiggling her hips. "Wreck me. I want to feel it—I need it."

You waste no time, sliding back into her tight ass with a deep, brutal thrust that has her crying out. Ning pushes back against you, her body greedy, taking every inch as you pick up a relentless pace. Her moans are filthy, each one sharper and louder than the last as you pound into her without mercy.

"Fuck, Ning," you growl, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. "Your ass feels so fucking good. It's like it's begging me to destroy you."

"Yes!" she screams, her voice hoarse but full of desperate need. "Destroy me, babe. Make me cum—please, I need it so bad!"

You spank her hard, the sharp slap making her whole body jolt as her ass ripples under your palm. She screams again, her cries turning into sobs of pure pleasure as you slam into her harder, deeper. "You're such a filthy little slut," you snarl, your cock driving into her over and over. "You love this, don’t you? Love being fucked like you’re nothing but a toy for me."

"God, yes!" Ning moans, her voice breaking. "I'm your slut, babe! Do whatever you want—just don't stop!"

Her body tightens suddenly, her back arching as her moans become frantic, incoherent. She grips the sheets, her knuckles white as her orgasm tears through her. Her ass clenches around you, spasming as she cries out, her voice raw and shaking. "Fuck! I'm cumming—oh god, I'm cumming so hard!"

You watch her fall apart, her body trembling violently, every muscle in her taut with the force of her climax. Her cries are ragged, broken, her face pressed into the sheets as her orgasm leaves her a shaking, breathless mess.

"That's it," you mutter, slowing your thrusts to savor the way her body milks you, still so tight and hot. "You look so fucking good like this, Ning. Completely ruined."

She collapses beside Rei, her body spent, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she glances back at you with a weak but satisfied smirk. "You’re fucking incredible," she murmurs, her voice hoarse but dripping with satisfaction.

Your words are sharp, cutting through the heavy, lust-drenched air. "On your knees," you command, your voice low and authoritative. Ning and Rei, their bodies still trembling and spent, slowly rise from the bed, obediently sliding down to the floor. They kneel before you, side by side, their flushed faces tilted up, their eyes wide and eager.

"Good girls," you murmur, stroking your cock lazily as they watch, their gazes locked on you like they’re waiting for your next move. The sight of them—bare, disheveled, and completely at your mercy—sends a thrill straight to your core.

You step closer, gripping your cock as you tap it against Ning’s cheek, the wet head leaving a glistening streak on her skin. She smirks, her tongue darting out to taste it, her eyes dark with hunger. "You missed this, didn’t you?" you growl, shifting to Rei, letting the heavy length rest against her soft, flushed cheek.

Rei’s breath hitches, her eyes flicking up to yours as she whispers, "Yes, daddy." Her voice is soft but laced with desire, her cheeks burning as you slide the tip across her lips, teasing her.

"You’re so fucking cute, Rei," you say, your tone teasing as you tap her cheek lightly with your cock. "These cheeks were made to be marked by me. Look at you—so innocent, but so fucking filthy."

Rei whimpers softly, leaning into the touch, her lips parting slightly as her tongue flicks out to taste you. She’s hesitant but eager, her wide eyes looking up at you, waiting for permission.

"Not yet," you say, pulling back just enough to make her whine. "I’m not done teasing you."

You switch to Ning, slapping your cock lightly against her lips. "And you," you growl, your voice rough. "Always so greedy. Always ready to take everything I give you."

Ning chuckles, her grin sharp as her tongue swirls around the tip, wet and teasing. "You know I love it," she purrs, her voice thick with arousal. "But don’t make me wait too long, babe. I want your cum."

You let your cock trail back and forth between them, grazing their lips, their cheeks, their tongues as they take turns tasting you, their moans soft and needy. Rei leans forward, her adorable face full of desperation as she presses her lips to the tip, her tongue flicking out to lap at the bead of pre-cum there.

"Please, daddy," she whispers, her voice trembling. "Let me suck you. I want to make you feel good."

Ning joins in, her hand reaching up to wrap around your shaft as she plants a wet kiss on the side. "She’s right," she murmurs, her lips brushing against you. "We’ll make you feel so good. Just let us take care of you."

You smirk, finally giving in as you nod. "Go ahead, then," you say, your voice low and commanding. "Show me what you can do."

The two of them waste no time, their mouths meeting at the head of your cock as their tongues swirl together, wet and eager. Ning takes you deeper first, her lips sliding down your shaft as Rei licks and kisses at the base, her small hands cupping your balls gently.

"Fuck," you mutter, your hand tangling in Rei’s hair as you guide her closer. "You two look so fucking good down there. Keep going—don’t stop."

Ning pulls back with an obscene pop, passing your cock to Rei, who takes you into her mouth slowly, her eyes closing as she savors the weight of you on her tongue. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks gently, her moans vibrating against your shaft as Ning licks along the side, her tongue tracing every vein.

"That’s it," you groan, your hips twitching as you watch them. "Good girls. Suck me just like that. Make me want to fill those pretty little mouths of yours."

Ning and Rei are relentless, their mouths working together in perfect, filthy harmony as they lavish attention on your cock. Their tongues slide along your shaft, wet and sloppy, as they take turns sucking you deep, their soft moans sending vibrations through your body. The obscene sounds of their lips smacking and their spit dripping fill the room, mixing with their desperate pleas.

"Please, daddy," Rei whimpers, pulling back just enough to let her swollen lips brush against the tip of your cock. Her wide, innocent eyes look up at you, glistening with desperation. "I want your cum. I need it. Please—please give it to me."

"God, babe," Ning pants, licking up the side of your cock before taking you back into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks hard. She pulls off with an audible pop, her hand stroking you as she grins up at you wickedly. "Don’t make us wait. We’re being so good for you. Just let us have it."

"Keep begging," you command, your voice rough with arousal as you grip the base of your cock, guiding it back to Rei’s soft lips. "I want to hear how much you need it."

Rei whines softly, her small hands wrapping around your thighs as she leans in, pressing a kiss to the sensitive head. "I need it so bad, daddy," she whispers, her voice trembling. "Please… please cum for us. I’ll do anything."

"Yes, babe," Ning adds, her tone full of heat as her tongue flicks over your balls, her hand sliding up and down your spit-slick shaft. "We’re ready for it. Just look at us. We’re your good little sluts, and we want you to cover us in it."

Their desperate pleas send a surge of heat straight through you, and you feel the tension building, your body on the brink. You pull back slightly, your hand wrapping firmly around your cock as you start jerking off, stroking yourself in quick, rough movements.

The sight of them drives you insane—their beautiful faces tilted up toward you, their cheeks flushed, their lips wet and swollen from sucking you. Their eyes stay locked on your cock, watching every stroke as their hands reach out to touch your thighs, their fingers trembling with anticipation.

"Fuck," you groan, your grip tightening as you feel yourself teetering on the edge. "You two look so fucking perfect like this. Beg for it one more time. Show me how much you want it."

"Please, daddy!" Rei cries, her voice high and needy, her hands clasped together like she’s praying for your release. "I want your cum all over me. I need to feel it—please, please give it to me!"

"Cover us, babe," Ning moans, licking her lips as she inches closer, her face right next to Rei’s. "We’re yours. Mark us. Show us how much you love it when we’re good for you."

Their words push you over the edge, and with a guttural groan, you explode. Thick, hot ropes of cum spurt out, splashing across their eager faces, painting their cheeks, their lips, their foreheads. Rei gasps softly as a glob lands on her tongue, and Ning moans, her eyes fluttering shut as she tilts her face up, letting it drip down her skin.

"Fuck," you mutter, your body trembling as you milk every last drop onto them, the sight of their cum-splattered faces enough to send another jolt of heat through you. "You look so fucking good like this. Covered in my cum. My good fucking girls."

They stay still, their breaths shallow, their hands rising to touch their faces, smearing the warm, sticky mess across their cheeks. "Clean me up," you order, holding your cock out toward them. "Suck the rest off. Don’t waste a drop."

Rei moves first, her tongue darting out to swirl around the sensitive head, her lips closing softly as she sucks, her moans sending shivers through you. Ning joins her, licking along the shaft, her tongue brushing against Rei’s as they work together to clean you, their mouths wet and eager.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you groan, your hips twitching as they take turns, their lips pressing kisses to your still-throbbing cock.

Once they’re satisfied, they lean back, their fingers trailing over their cum-covered faces. Ning dips a finger into a thick glob on her cheek, bringing it to her lips with a grin. "So warm," she murmurs, her voice playful. "And so much."

Rei watches her, then mimics the gesture, her cheeks flushing as she licks her fingers clean. "It’s… it’s kind of sweet," she whispers shyly, glancing at you.

Ning smirks, leaning closer to Rei, her voice low and teasing. "Let’s see how it tastes on you."

She presses her lips to Rei’s, her tongue slipping inside, and Rei gasps softly before melting into the kiss. Their mouths move together, wet and sloppy, as they share the taste of you, their moans soft and full of heat. When they finally pull apart, their eyes meet yours, their faces still streaked with your release, and they smile, utterly wrecked and satisfied.

An idea hits you, sharp and wicked. You glance down at them, their gorgeous faces still painted with your cum, and the two Santa hats lying forgotten on the floor catch your eye. A slow grin spreads across your face.

“Stay just like that,” you say, your voice low and full of intent. “Don’t move.”

Rei and Ning look up at you, curiosity flickering in their lust-heavy gazes. You bend down, grabbing the Santa hats and brushing off any stray lint before holding them out.

“Here,” you murmur, smirking as they take them. “Put these back on. I want to record this—remember it.”

Rei’s cheeks flush, but she doesn’t hesitate. She grabs the hat with trembling fingers, sliding it onto her head, her messy hair spilling out from underneath. Ning snickers softly, more than eager as she adjusts hers, tilting it at a playful angle.

“You’re serious?” Ning asks, her lips curling into a devilish grin.

“Dead serious,” you reply, already picking up the phone on the nightstand. “You two look fucking perfect—adorable and filthy all at once. I’m not letting this moment slip away.”

They exchange a glance, Rei biting her lip nervously, while Ning just shrugs, her smirk widening.

“Alright,” Ning says, leaning forward slightly, tilting her chin up as if presenting herself. “Make it a good one, babe.”

Rei nods shyly, her hands clasped together in her lap, her wide eyes shimmering with that innocent-but-not-so-innocent look that drives you crazy. “Do you… want us to smile?”

“Damn right I do,” you say, holding up your phone. “Big, pretty smiles, ladies. Let me see those faces.”

They obey instantly, their lips curling into sweet, innocent smiles that contrast so perfectly with the cum streaked across their cheeks and lips. The Santa hats perched jauntily on their heads only add to the surreal, filthy beauty of the moment.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter, snapping photo after photo. “You two are so fucking hot like this. Perfect little sluts, looking so goddamn adorable and dirty all at once.”

Rei’s smile falters slightly, her cheeks burning. “D-don’t say that,” she whispers, though the way her thighs press together betrays how much she loves it.

“Why not?” Ning teases, nudging her. “It’s true. Look at us. We’re fucking masterpieces.”

You chuckle darkly, snapping one last shot before lowering your phone. “Alright,” you say, your voice softening just a bit as you grab the wet wipes from the bedside table. “Let’s clean you up now.”

You kneel in front of them, pulling a wipe free and gently cupping Rei’s chin. She looks up at you, her wide eyes trusting as you start wiping the sticky mess from her cheeks.

“You did so good, baby,” you murmur, your voice low and soothing. “Such a good girl for me.”

Her lips part slightly, a soft sigh escaping her as you finish, discarding the wipe before moving to Ning. She tilts her head back, her smirk softening into something almost tender as you carefully clean her face.

“Can’t have you two walking around looking like this,” you joke lightly, tossing the last wipe aside. “Even though I kinda wish I could keep you like this forever.”

Ning chuckles, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “You’re such a sap sometimes,” she teases, but her eyes shine with affection.

Rei giggles softly, her fingers brushing over the brim of her hat. “Thank you, daddy,” she whispers, her voice small but full of warmth.

You sit back on the bed, watching Rei shift slightly where she kneels. The way her thighs tremble and how she winces just a little when she moves catches your attention. A smirk tugs at your lips, but there’s genuine care in your tone when you ask, “How’s your ass, baby? Still sore?”

Rei nods shyly, her cheeks flushing as she glances over her shoulder. “It… it still hurts,” she admits softly, her voice trembling. “I can feel the marks from where you spanked me.”

You lean forward, brushing her hair back gently, your fingers trailing down her cheek. “Let me see,” you murmur, guiding her to turn slightly. The marks on her ass are still visible, red and slightly raised from where your hand connected earlier. A pang of pride and guilt mixes in your chest as you trace one with your fingertips, making her shiver.

“Still so beautiful,” you say softly, your voice full of affection. “But don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you now. You’ve been such a good girl for me—I’ll make sure you feel better.”

Rei bites her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch. “Thank you, daddy,” she whispers, her voice so small it makes your chest tighten.

Before you can say anything else, Ning snickers beside her, that sharp grin back on her face. “This is my favorite part,” she says, her voice playful but affectionate. “You fuck us like you’re trying to break us, then turn around and treat us like we’re goddamn princesses. It’s almost unfair how good you are at this.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you pull both girls closer, making them sit on the bed. “You are my princesses,” you say, wrapping an arm around Ning while your other hand strokes Rei’s back gently. “That’s why I can’t just leave you all wrecked like this. Gotta take care of my girls, don’t I?”

Ning smirks, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw. “Damn right you do,” she says, her tone softer now. “But I guess that’s why we keep coming back for more.”

Rei giggles softly, curling into your chest, her body relaxing as your fingers trace soothing patterns over her back. “I like it when you take care of us,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

“And I always will,” you promise, pulling both of them even closer. “Always.”

These two—your Rei, your Ning—together like this, looking up at you with soft smiles and heat still lingering in their eyes, it’s overwhelming. You’ve always loved them, separately, deeply, but seeing them like this, each one by your side, their small hands caressing your body... it seems like a dream too good to be real.

Rei’s cheeks are still red, her lips swollen from the intensity of everything, and she’s the first to speak. “So… what do you think?” she asks softly, her voice trembling just a little.

Ning’s grin is more confident, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in her dark eyes as she adds, “Yeah, babe. Was this the best Christmas present ever, or what?”

Your hands find theirs instinctively, your fingers lacing with theirs, squeezing tight. “Are you kidding me?” you say, your voice thick. “This… this is everything. I don’t even know how to put it into words. You two… fuck, I love you both so much.”

Rei’s eyes widen, her breath catching, and Ning’s grin softens, a rare sweetness creeping into her expression. “Good answer,” Ning says, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “We wouldn’t have done this if we didn’t feel the same way, you know.”

Rei nods, her voice small but firm as she says, “We talked about it a lot, and… and we decided we both love you too much to let you go. So… we’re here. Together.”

“Together,” you repeat, your voice quiet but full of awe. You look at them, your chest tightening as the reality sinks in. “For real, right? Like… this isn’t just a one-time thing?”

Ning laughs, her hand coming up to brush some of the sweat-damp hair from your forehead. “Yeah, babe, for real. We’re not going anywhere.”

Rei’s smile is soft, shy, as she squeezes your hand. “We want to make this work. The three of us. If… if you want that too.”

You stare at them for a long moment, your heart pounding. Then you pull them both into your arms, holding them so tightly it’s like you’re afraid they might disappear. “Being completely honest” you murmur against their hair, “this is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. You two together—it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Ning chuckles softly, her arms wrapping around your waist as she nuzzles into your neck. “We do go pretty well together, don’t we?” she says, her voice teasing but warm.

Rei giggles, her face buried against your chest. “I think so,” she murmurs.

You pull back just enough to look at them, your hands cupping their faces, your thumbs brushing over their flushed cheeks. “More than perfect,” you say, your voice low but steady. “I don’t even know how I got this lucky, but I’m not letting either of you go. Ever.”

Rei blushes deeper, her smile soft and full of love, while Ning smirks, her confidence back in full force. “Damn right you’re not,” she says, leaning in to kiss you again, this time slower, sweeter.

When she pulls back, Rei surprises you by leaning up to kiss you as well, her lips soft and hesitant but filled with just as much emotion. It’s like something slots into place as the three of you sit there, tangled together, an unusual union, but one that still seems perfectly logical.

“Best Christmas ever,” you murmur, your hands holding theirs tightly.

Ning laughs, her head resting on your shoulder as she says, “You better believe it, babe. And this is just the beginning.”

Rei nods, her smile growing as she leans into your other side. “Merry Christmas, daddy.”

You chuckle, pulling them closer as your heart swells with a love so deep, it feels like it might burst. “Merry Christmas, my girls.”

[skzdust]

Can I Touch?

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

Merry Christmas, everyone. This is my smutty present to all of you and to Bee especially lol.

This fic was a request from @kpop---scenarios (here) and a part of my 500 followers celebration!! Big thanks for requesting bestie and I hope you love it <3 The prompt was #23, caught in the act, with Lee Know, NSFW!

Summary: Minho is horny at a party, and now it's your problem... and, when you sneak into Hyunjin's room, it becomes his problem, too.

Pairing: Lee Know x Hyunjin x fem!reader

Includes: fucking at a party, an unexpected visitor, nipple play, unprotected sex, kissing

Word count: 1.3k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz, @jeonginsleftcheek

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

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Minho leaned in by your ear. “C’mon, baby, just come with me for a second?”

You laughed softly. “Everyone’s here, Minho, they’ll notice if we’re gone.”

“No, they won’t.” His breath tickled your ear. “No one will know. It’ll just be you and me.”

You swallowed. You couldn’t deny that it sounded appealing. Minho had spent the whole evening working you up— his hands grazing your thigh, or lingering a bit too long on your waist. His eyes roaming your chest, your whole body. You wanted him, and it was clear he wanted you. “Minho… I don’t know.”

“But I need you, baby.” He murmured. “Need you bad.”

You sucked a breath in through your teeth. “You need me so bad you can’t wait till we get home?”

“Exactly.” He nipped at your earlobe, and you were glad the girl you’d been talking to had wandered off a minute ago, leaving no one to pay attention to Minho’s blatant attempts to turn you on.

“Okay.” You whispered. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but… yes.”

“Sounds good.” He pressed a kiss to your neck. “Let’s go find a bedroom.”

Your stomach leapt as Minho led you by the hand up the stairs. “Min, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah… I know which one is Hyunjin’s. He won’t care.”

You laughed. “You mean he won’t care if we fuck on his bed?”

“Exactly.” Minho smiled, pushing open a door. “Come on in.”

You followed him into the room, and he shut the door before pressing you against it and all but growling in your ear. “Baby… you look so good in that little fucking dress. Trying to tease me all night.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease you.” You said, but you were breathless already as Minho’s hand found its way up your skirt to play with your underwear.

“Sure.” He ran his fingers over your pussy, prompting a whine. You were so sensitive to his touch, especially when you were already horny.

“Okay, so, maybe a little bit.” You admitted.

“Just what I thought, baby.” He kissed you, long, searing on your lips. You could barely breathe as he invaded your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours. His hand was still playing with you, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

“Oh, you like that?” He rubbed at your pussy harder through your underwear, the fabric rough against you.

“Yes, Minho.” You exhaled.

“Get on the bed.”

You wiggled your underwear off, throwing them somewhere on the floor, and landed on your back on the bed.

Minho crawled on top of you, and as you looked down you could see the bulge in his pants. “You want it, baby? You want it inside you?”

“Yes.” You whimpered. “Want it deep inside me, Minho. We gotta be fast.”

He laughed as he leaned down to kiss you again, hard, demanding. He broke away and sat back to pull off his pants and boxers.

He was already hard, but he stroked himself a few times as he lined himself up with your hole. “Just know you’re gonna be so good around me.”

You just whined, angling your hips up.

Minho rubbed his tip around a little bit, getting it wet with your slick, and began to push inside. He was about halfway in when the door hinges squeaked.

You both froze, whipping towards the door.

Hyunjin stood there, his eyebrows raised. “Well, I didn’t expect you guys to be in here.”

Minho began to pull out.

“No, no, don’t stop.” Hyunjin closed the door, leaning against it, watching the two of you. “Go on. If you’re borrowing my room, you at least should give me a show.”

You nodded, looking at Minho. “We should, shouldn’t we?”

He smirked. “We should.” He pushed back inside with one big thrust that made your eyes roll back and pulled a long moan from your throat.

“Fuck.” Hyunjin said softly.

“She’s so pretty when she’s getting fucked, isn’t she?” Minho’s voice was fond, tender. “I’ve always thought so.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Hyunjin groaned. “She’s fucking hot is what she is.”

“My girl, Hyunjin.” Minho reminded him with a smirk.

“You’re giving me a show. Aren’t I supposed to be watching?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t watch.” Minho fucked into you again, and your moan was broken. “Just don’t try to touch.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Good.” Minho’s hands wrapped around your waist, and he began to fuck you in earnest, his speed picking up. All you could do was grab at his hands and moan, your hips bucking up to meet his.

“Can’t I just touch a little?” Hyunjin’s voice was playful. “Those tits look so nice in that dress.”

Minho stopped moving, looking at you. “Y/n, how do you feel about Hyunjin touching you?”

“Yes.” You said, wriggling in an effort to get Minho to start up again. “Yes, Hyunjin, please touch me.”

Minho smirked again. “Play with her nipples.”

Hyunjin sat behind you, moving your head into his lap, as he leaned over to push the strapless top of your dress down.

“Fuck.” You moaned, your whole body arching off the bed as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers and Minho began to thrust into you again.

“Pretty girl.” He said, his voice a warm contrast to the rough treatment he was giving your tits.

“Sharing might not be so bad, look at how sensitive and twitchy she is.” Minho’s voice was arrogant. You couldn’t see him at this point, your eyes were squeezed shut at all of the sensations washing over you.

“So much.” You breathed.

“Is it too much, baby?” Minho’s voice softened.

“No!” You said quickly. “No, keep going, please, both of you.”

Hyunjin pinched your nipples at the same time, and you let out a little cry. Minho drilled into your hole harder, pushing the air out of you with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm fast approaching.

As you hit the peak of your pleasure, Hyunjin’s ministrations slowed. “No, no, keep going!” You managed to get out through your moans.

“Okay.” He whispered, pinching you even harder. You practically screamed, arching off the bed as they continued to work your body.

You collapsed back down, but neither of them stopped. You felt overstimulated, every sensation so strong and intense, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to be a good girl and get Minho off. You laid there and let it all wash over you.

And soon enough he did cum, deep inside you, with a long groan. Hyunjin’s hands only slowed as Minho pulled out, cum spilling onto Hyunjin’s sheets.

“Ah, sorry.” Minho laughed, looking down.

“It’s okay, I can wash them.” Hyunjin smiled. “Thank you for letting me join, both of you.”

“You’re welcome to share me again, if you like.” You offered, pushing yourself up. You knew you looked thoroughly debauched, your hair messy, your makeup surely running, your top pushed down and your skirt pushed up.

“Fuck, you’re a vision, y/n.” Hyunjin breathed, and you looked down to see how hard he was.

“If… if Minho’s okay with it, you can use me, if you want.” You said.

Minho nodded. “As long as you make her feel good, too.”

Hyunjin swallowed, his eyes raking over you. “I want to make her feel so good.”

You whined.

“Then be my guest.” Minho moved from between your legs, and Hyunjin took his spot. Minho began to stroke your hair, kissing down your neck, as Hyunjin lined himself up.

 You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

[thundersoothers]

john price, his wife, and... the dog (derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: inspired by this thought about john price being an absolutely softie for his wife.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of cheating but it’s NOT TRUE! you’ll see… just fluff that reallyyyyy makes me want to marry this man.

It’s 2AM on a Saturday in the summer when John Price thinks he hears his wife cheating on him. 

“Shhh!!  You have to be quiet, you’ll wake up my husband.” 

He opens his heavy eyes to see the TV paused at the end credits of some movie he can’t even remember the name of.  The screen reflects in the crystal of the empty rocks glass on the coffee table next to his feet, holding only a warm whiskey stone.  

He groans and stretches, his old t-shirt riding up to show a dark happy trail disappearing into low-waisted flannel pajama pants.  He has one sock on with a hole in the toe.  You told him to get rid of them and got him a pack of 20 of the same sock (he’s very particular about his socks), but he still wears these ones, anyway. 

“Stop moving, I’m trying to concentrate here.  Damn lock… can never— oh, shit.  Heh. Wrong key.” 

He can hear you muttering and giggling and the scratch of the key against the lock as you struggle to get it in. 

It’s your girls’ night and he likes to wait up for you to make sure you get in safely.  He saw you off around 8PM, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as you took a shot of tequila.  You planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark that he didn’t bother to fully wipe off. 

“Sorry, I know you’re eager to get inside.  I bet you’re so cold, all naked.  Here, you can go in my dress, is that better?  Fu—ow!  Don’t bite my tit, Jesus!  Sharp teeth…” 

Price suddenly feels much more awake.  He pushes himself up from the couch and starts to walk to the foyer. 

“This damn door… ah!  There we go.” 

The door creaks open and he hears you tiptoe inside in your heels (wearing heels and tiptoeing—are two actions that are mutually exclusive, especially when you’re plastered). 

“Remember, we have to be quiet.  My husband waits for me to get home, we don’t want to wake him up.  He’s very nice, you see, but he can’t know you’re here.” 

Apparently, you have gotten home safely—with an extra guest who just bit at your tit.  And you’re being louder than your guest, who you keep telling to be quiet. 

“My husband is gonna be soooo mad.  He’s gonna be so mad at me, but once he sees how cute you are, I think he’ll forgive me.  He’ll understand.  I had to.  I just had to!” 

He hears rustling as he gets closer to the foyer, you fumbling around in the dark. 

“Stay there, don’t move, okay?  Stay, yeah?  You know that, don’t you?  Mummy will teach you if not.  Just stay right there.  Lemme get these damn heels off…” 

There’s an odd sound of something quickly clicking on hardwood floor that makes his eyebrows furrow, and then you gasp—

“Wait, don’t run—“ 

Bang! 

You groan loudly. 

Price flicks on the lights.

You’re lying face down on the rug.  You have one heel on.  The second heel is twisted around your other foot—what you fell over.  Your little dress is flipped up over your ass and your arms are outstretched. 

“You okay there, love?” John asks, torn between amusement and concern. You just groan.  “Sounded like you fell pretty hard.” 

“I tripped,” you say into the rug, sounding very sad. 

“You hurt?” he asks.  “Anything broken?”

You shake your head and curl up a little.  “I’ll just sleep here.” 

He laughs softly.  “Come on, none of that.” 

“It’s so comfortable.  I’ll just—“ 

There’s that clicking sound again and he’s almost startled by the abruptness of your movement.  You push yourself up with one arm, stretch the other out and fucking snatch the quick-moving little brown blob that’s moving toward you.  You pull it to your chest and cradle it, shielding it from John’s view. 

He blinks. “What you got there, love?” he asks after a second. 

“Nothing,” you say innocently. 

“Right.”  He crosses his arms, looking you over.  “Who were you talking to just now?” 

“No one,” you say quickly.  “Myself.” 

“Right,” John says again slowly. “Show me what you have.” 

You look over your shoulder up at him through your lashes, vision blurry.  “No.  You’re gonna be mad.” 

“Just show me.” 

“Promise you won’t be mad.” 

He sighs.  “I won’t be mad.”  You give him a look.  He sighs again.  You’re wasted—he can tell by your eyes. They’re unfocused and heavy.  “Promise.  Now show me.” 

You look down at whatever you’re holding to your chest.  “Okay,” you whisper (to your tits?), “you need to be very well-behaved, okay?  No biting, please.  Be very nice for Daddy so he will like you, okay?  Can you do that?  Yes?  Okay.” 

You glance up at John again over your shoulder and then turn yourself around in a very clumsy movement.  Then, as if presenting whatever it is like you’re Mufasa from the Lion King, you lift it up in the air toward your husband. 

It’s a puppy. 

It’s quiet. 

The little dog wriggles in your hands, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shakes.  He barks up at John, high pitched.  A small pink tongue lolls out of his mouth. 

It’s still quiet. 

You lower the dog a little so you can look up at John.  “You said you wouldn’t be mad!” 

“I’m not mad,” John says, sounding mad. 

“You look mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he says again.  “It’s just… dirty.” 

You gasp.  “He’s not dirty!” you exclaim, sounding offended on behalf of the dog.  You pull him to your chest.  “He’s just a little mangey, you see.  But that’s okay.  It can be fixed.  You know—they have medicine for that.  Or lotion, or whatever it is.  He’s very nice, John, I swear.  I know he’s a little… skrunkly but he’s very cute and—ow!  That’s my hair, no biting Mummy, please.” 

“You’re already calling yourself his Mummy?” he asks, bemused, eyebrow raised at you.  Yep.  You’re fucking wasted. 

“Yes, and you’re his Daddy.”  You hold the dog up again, this time facing him toward you.  “I think you’re very cute, puppy. You’ll grow on Daddy.  Just be very good for him, you can do that, can’t you?  Yes, you can.”  You whisper, as if John isn’t standing right there, “We’ll wear him down. Don’t worry.”

“I thought it was something else,” Price says. 

“What did you think it was?” you ask, not looking away from the dog.

“Where did you find it?” he asks instead of answering. 

This is much better than what his traitorous mind momentarily supplied.  You, cheating? As if.

How silly of him to even think that. For a moment, his stomach twists with the guilt of doubting you. He should have known better. 

Of course it’s this.  What else could it have been?

A puppy. 

A puppy! 

“Oh, hello, there.” 

You crouch down in your dress and heels and hold out your hand to the little puppy emerging from the bushes by the side of the road. 

“What are you doing here, all alone?  Come here, love, I won’t hurt you.  Come on, puppy, come to me.  Yeahhh, there we go.  Oh, look at you.  You’re so cute.  You’re all mangey, though.  Oh,” you say pitifully, “you little baby.” 

You’re drunk as fuck at 2AM on a Saturday in the summer, halfway through your walk home from the bar, squatting in the middle of a back road in England, about to cry while petting this puppy clumsily—but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He wags his tail and nips at your fingers. 

“Where’s your Mummy?  You shouldn’t be out here all alone.  No collar… oh, goodness, what should I do with you?  I don’t want to leave you.  I’m not sure what to do.” 

He barks at you, high pitched. 

You nod at him seriously.  “Oh, yes, good point.”  He barks again.  “Mhm.  Yes, yes.  I thought so, too.  Exactly right.” 

He runs in a circle around you. 

“What are you, a month?  You should be with your Mum, you shouldn’t be all alone.  Oh, you little baby, you must be so scared.”  (He’s wagging his tail.) 

“It’s so cold.”  (It’s summer.) 

“Maybe you can come home with me?”  (Your husband would be so mad.) 

“Yes,” you decide.  “You’ll come home with me.”  (Your husband is going to be so mad.) 

That’s how you end up stumbling home with a puppy in your arms, rambling to him about yourself and your life. 

“Well, puppy, my name is Mrs. Price.  I’m from around here.  I live in a nice three bedroom house with my husband, I think you’ll like it very much.  It’s very cute. He let me decorate it. He doesn’t understand feng shui, you see. You should see his office, puppy, it’s so bland. No taste for interior design.”

“Our house is only 10 more minutes away.  See that big tree there?  That means we only have 10 minutes left until we’re home.  I’m not great with street names, you see, so I go by landmarks.”  He barks.  “Yes, yes, you get it.” 

“Anyway.  So, I’m—stop wiggling please, Mummy’s going to drop you—I’m married to a very nice man named John.  I love him very much.  You’ll like him, too,” you tell him seriously, “he’s very likable.  I like lots of things about him, puppy.  Actually, I like everything about him.” 

“He says I can’t have a dog, though.  He says it’s for my own good—booooo. Boo! But maybe we can sneak you in.  What do you think, puppy?  Should we do that?  I think we should do that.  We’ll have to be very quiet, though.  Very quiet.” 

“John waits for me to get home safely—he’s so nice, he’s so kind to me, I love him sooooo much—but we have to make sure not to wake him up. This is one of them—uh, covert operations. He’s very well-versed in those. My husband is very talented, puppy, he’s a Captain. So we’ll have to be extra careful.”

And that’s how you end up trying to sneak into your own house and then trip over your shoe and fucking slam! your face on the rug. 

“Where did you find it?” John asks you as you sit on the floor after you presented the dog to him.

“On the way home from the bar, kind of my that big tree.” 

“By Notting Street?” 

You furrow your eyebrows.  “Notting Str—I dunno.  Maybe?  I just know the big tree.  The one with all the branches.” 

“‘The one with all the branches,’” he repeats, nodding slowly.  “Right.” 

“But he was there all alone so I took him home.  I couldn’t leave him, John, he’s so little.  And he’s very cute, look at his little ears?  And his little feet?  His toes are soooo small.  His little teeth are sharp, though—like a shark.  Fuckin’ hurt, he almost bit my tit off.” 

“Yeah, I heard.” 

“You heard?  Oh.  I was trying to be quiet.  I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

He smiles at you.  “I know.” 

You smile back. 

“Give me the dog.” 

You frown.  “No.” 

“The dog, please.” 

“No.”  You hold him tighter.  “You’ll take him from me.” 

“Well,” he says, “yes.” 

You sigh heavily.  “Be gentle.”  You hand him to John and he takes him in one hand and holds him out, frowning, as if it’s offended him. 

A puppy. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask hopefully. 

He glances at you and then back to the puppy and then back to you and then back to the puppy.  “No.” 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“But…”  You trail off and he looks back down at you.  You’re starting to tear up. 

“Oh—love, don’t cry.” 

“He’s so little and soft and nice and he’s all mangey and he’s all alone and he’s just a little baby and…” 

“Okay, okay, darling, we can keep him.” 

(By that, he means you’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober, and by ‘talk about it’, he means, ‘no.’) 

“Really?!” you gasp.  

The way your face fucking lights up makes John pause.  For a second, he almost feels like he lost his balance.

“Oh, John, really?  Oh, thank you so much!  Puppy, did you hear that?  Daddy said yes!  See, he’s very nice, just like I told you, remember?  He’s very nice and kind and he’s very handsome and I love him very much, and I—“ 

“The dog can’t understand you.” 

“You don’t know that,” you say defensively.

He looks down at you. “Right.”

You stare up at him, standing over you as you sit on the floor.  “How are you handsome even from this angle?”  You frown deeper.  “Stupid face,” you mutter. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Let’s get you up.” 

“I’m so comfortable.” 

“Hand.”  He tucks the dog under his arm and extends his other hand toward you.  He crooks his long, thick fingers at you.  “Now.” 

You look between his hand and his face, and then slip your hand into his.  He fucking yanks you up and, in one movement that’s somehow graceful, bends down and throws you over his shoulder. 

He, naturally, slaps your ass and you squeal.  “Hey!!” 

You kick your feet (still with only one heel on) and he laughs, resting his hand on your hip, heavy fingers digging into the plush of your butt, as he makes his way up the stairs with you on his shoulder and the dog in his hand. 

Gently, he drops you onto the bed and you fall back with an oof! and stare up at him. 

“Well,” Price drawls, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

You grin.  “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.”  He takes off your shoe (singular), your dress, and your makeup as you hold the dog, curled up, on your chest. 

“You’re so good to me, John,” you say, your eyes closed.  “I’m so lucky.  I don’t know how I got so lucky.  And, you, puppy,” you mumble, petting him slowly, “you’re so lucky, too.  You’re about to have the best Daddy in the world.  He’s so good to us.” 

“‘Puppy’ is asleep,” John says.  “And,” he adds, scooping him up in one hand, “puppy is not sleeping in the bed.” 

You just groan, too tired and drunk to argue. 

He holds the dog out in the air again, turning him around and upside down to examine him.  He yips and wriggles in his hands, but John shushes him.  “Hush now.  Your Mummy is asleep.”  He shakes his head and sighs.  “What am I going to do with you?” 

He takes the dog to the bathroom and puts him down on the floor. His paws slip a little on the cold tile. John puts his hands on his hips, staring down at the dog.  “I can’t believe this.”

He reaches over to turn on the heated floor (which he got installed for you) and says to the dog, “You are so, so damn lucky I love your Mummy.” 

In the morning, despite John Price’s best efforts to say no to you, you end up convincing him to keep the dog. He’s a military Captain but the pleading of his wife is enough to make him crumble.

The happiness on your face when he finally says yes, makes him wonder why he ever said no in the first place.

note: thank you for reading! this is my first time posting in years–and in a totally new fandom. thank you for your patience and your support. let me know your thoughts! merry christmas!

posted 12.26.2024.

revised 12.27.24.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.

[lovecla]

STUCK WITH YOU ; QUINN HUGHES.

❄︎ pair: quinn hughes x y/n.

❄︎ synopsis: of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them.

❄︎ word count: 5.6k

❄︎ chapter warnings: unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut (once), softdom!quinn, dirty talk.

💌 from me to you: merry christmas, babies 🩶 i hope all of you had a great time and lots of delicious food. 1st of all, i’d like to apologise bc i got carried away with the word count! 2nd of all, i’m sorry about how dirty this is… this was supposed to be wholesome and cute but i don’t know what happened 😭 sorry…. anyways, as always, forgive me for this poorly written smut and share with me your thoughts! i love you! ♡

𖧷

Ever Since your sister started dating one of the most known hockey players, Luke Hughes, your life changed— for the better, that is. It’s not like you’re used to all the attention, but it’s nice to attend parties and meet your favorite hockey players for free.

But, the only issue you didn’t see coming when she announced that she was, in fact, very much in love with the youngest of the Hughes brothers is that now you have to constantly coexist with your long time celebrity crush, Quinn Hughes.

It’s an old thing, your situation with Quinn Hughes. You first started noticing him during his time in college, when he was just eighteen.

None of your friends understood what was so special about him but you just told them they didn’t have to: Quinn Hughes is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, and you’ll stand by that until the end of your days.

When your sister decided that she would make Luke Hughes hers, you remember laughing and saying: He’ll be yours when Quinn Hughes’s mine.

Turns out, Luke is your sister’s.

And, well. Quinn’s not yours.

When you’re around him, during dinners and parties, you almost don’t even acknowledge him. It’s just because you don’t know how to be around him without immediately blushing and cringing at your own words.

It’s like you’re a teenager all over again, but what else can you do, really. He’s attractive, he’s funny and he cares about the people he loves; you cannot not be in love with someone like him.

But now you’re his brother’s sister in law and have been for the past year. You have been doing a great job at not staying in the same room as him for too long, and even if you can come off as rude or mean, it’s better than to get caught while watching him with lovey eyes.

It’s December 24th, and you’re on your way to your sister’s house, where you’d spend Christmas with her— and since she’s only arriving later that night because of work, you’ll be there earlier to arrange things for her.

You’re annoyed by the fact that she has to work until late during Christmas time but at least you’ll get to spend the night with at least one of your family members, since your parents are out of town.

What’s also annoying is the fact that it’s cold and snowing. Not just normal, winter type of snow but North-Pole type of snow. You’re shivering inside your car, because your heater is broken and you stupidly decided that it’d be a great idea to wear just leggings and a sweatshirt.

You park in front of her house, sighing and trying to move as fast as your frozen limbs could. You’re also carrying a hundred bags with you, because decorating is your favorite part of Christmas and knowing your sister and her workaholic personality, you know that she probably doesn’t even have her tree out of her attic yet— so you’ll have to do the whole decorating thing by yourself.

Which you silently prefer because there’s nothing you hate more when people try to dictate where your ornaments should go.

You ring her doorbell first, before dumbly realizing that she’s probably at work already, so you just start looking for the spare key she gave you when the door opens, making you lift your head up with a smile, only to drop it two seconds later.

“Oh.”

Quinn’s looking back at you with a polite smile, and you’re not sure that what you’re seeing is actually real because why the hell would Quinn Hughes be at your sister’s house during Christmas?

“Hi, Y/n.” He says, leaning against the door frame.

You frown without even noticing it. Why didn’t she warn you that he would be at her house?

You’ve been staring at him for what feels to be hours, when he speaks again: “Aren’t you… cold?”

You realize that he’s right and you are cold. Cold and tired because you’re still holding the heavy bags, so you just nod and watch as he opens the door more and reaches for the bags in your hand, picking all four of them up like they’re not heavy at all and letting you in.

You’re still in shock and shivering when you close the door behind you, welcoming the warm air inside the house, thankful for your sister’s amazing heating system.

Quinn walks back to the living room and you grab your phone, dialing your sister’s number and putting the phone against your ear.

“Y/n? Are you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me he would be at your place?!” You shout slash whisper, hiding behind her clothes rack.

“Who’s he? Why are you whispering?”

“What do you mean who’s he?” You hiss. “I’m talking about him!”

“Who’s… Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Her laugh makes you blush. “I didn’t think he’d arrive so soon. I told him he could come later because you’d be the only one there so I just guessed… well. Nevermind.”

“What do I do?!” you sound so desperate it’s almost funny. “I can’t be here! You know I—”

“Y/n, stop freaking out. It’s just Quinn,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Go decorate and do all that stuff you like to do during Christmas. I’ll pick up the food goodies when I leave work, so please just… be normal.”

“What do you mean be normal I can’t—”

“I gotta go. I love you. Bye.”

She hangs up the call and leaves you staring at your phone screen, contemplating how you would scape when it was so cold outside and Quinn’s already seen you so—

“Y/n? Are you playing hide and seek?”

You immediately get out of your sister’s clothes and smile awkwardly, almost opening the front door and standing in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to run you over.

“No, I—” you stutter, looking everywhere but him. “I was just… talking to my sister…”

“I see,” he says. “Is she okay? It’s snowing outside, and you’re still shivering.”

How the hell did he notice that?, you ask yourself, before nodding.

“She is, yeah. She’s working.”

You step further inside the house, walking past Quinn like he’s some type of virus. Besides the huge tree sitting in the corner by the TV, your sister’s house is poorly decorated, just like you predicted, so at least you’ll have something to busy yourself with until she arrives.

“She told me she’d work until late and she said I could come and help you out with your decorations until she and Luke arrive.” He explains, and you turn around, raising your eyebrow at him, confused.

“Luke’s coming?” You ask.

“He is, yes.”

“I thought… I thought you guys would spend Christmas with your parents.” You say, because that’s what you heard your sister saying.

“Well, they’re coming too,” he chuckles, putting his hand inside his front pockets. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No, I thought—” you start, but then you bite your lips, giving up mid-sentence. You didn’t want to sound rude by saying I thought it’d be the two of us only so you just stay quiet. “Nevermind. It’s nice that you all get to spend Christmas together.”

Quinn stares at you for a few seconds before nodding. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

You frown, shaking your head.

“I’m not, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting all of you,” you reply, embarrassed. “I brought my Grinch sweater…”

He laughs, and you have to stop yourself from smiling too.

“It’s okay. I’ll wear my Cindy Lou one.”

You want to yell at him and tell him to stop being nice, but you already know that’s just how he is. That’s one of the reasons you like him so much.

You look outside your sister’s big window and frown, noticing that the snow is only falling faster, and the street is white everywhere now. Even your car is barely visible.

“It’s getting ugly,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “I hope it stops soon.”

“I don’t know about that…” he comments, sitting on the couch next to your bags. “I did see a blizzard warning in my weather app today.”

“What?” you almost shout. “Are you sure it was for today?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s why I came earlier. I thought it was dangerous for you to stay here alone.”

You want to ask him what one thing has to do with the other but you’re too busy blushing over his sentence to do anything else.

“I’d be just fine, but thank you,” you mumble. Sighing, you look down at your clothes. “I’m going to change and then start decorating.” You announce, not even sure why.

“You should probably put on something warmer,” he looks down at your clothes before running his fingers through his hair. “It’d be a shame if you caught a cold.”

You don’t say anything, just nod and make your way to your sister’s bedroom, happy that you’re both the same size. Once you find a comfort, two piece set wool outfit, you grab it and change, immediately welcoming the warmth it brings.

You also spend more time in your sister’s bedroom than you should, sitting on her bed and contemplating what you should do.

It’s not like Quinn’s a bad person or someone difficult to be around, but you get shy really easily and he happens to master the art of making you embarrassed, even if it’s not in a bad way.

He’s probably not even aware of it, too, because he’s just a really kind person and that’s just how he treats everyone he likes.

He doesn’t like us, your brain reminds you, he’s just polite.

Whatever.

You get back to the living room and find him still sitting on the couch, watching some random, Christmas movie. You reach for your bags, trying to open them as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb him.

You remove the plastic boxes full of ornaments and distribute them around you, separating them by color and size. It’s therapeutic to you, and it helps to calm your brain down.

Soon, the fact that Quinn’s in the same room as you, alone, doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re having fun decorating your sister’s empty tree, making it beautifully decorated and ready for the night.

After what’s probably thirty minutes, you reach for the last item inside your boxes, which is a bright, yellow star, heavily bedazzled. It’s been yours since you and your sister moved out of your parents’ house and you love it more than all of your other Christmas decorations combined.

The only issue is that it should sit on top of the tree, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem, because your sister had been letting you decorate her tiny tree for the past years, and you’ve been able to reach it just fine. But this year she decided that she wanted to challenge you and she bought a tall one, so now you can’t really reach the top, and you only realize it after jumping for a few minutes and not even touching the top once.

“Do you need any help?”

Quinn’s calm voice startles you, and you hold back a scream. You had forgotten that he was sitting just behind you, and probably had been watching you embarrassing yourself for the past three minutes.

You’re feeling your cheeks warm when you answer: “No, I… well. Maybe?”

He chuckles, getting up. “Does your sister have a ladder?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “She says someone as tall as her should do just fine without one.”

“I don’t understand,” he laughs. “She’s just a few inches taller than you. There’s barely a difference.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” You say, annoyed. “I can just grab a chair—”

“No, let me help you.” He walks towards you, and when you’re just about to tell him he’s not going to reach the top by himself either he does something that sends you to another world.

He picks you up effortlessly, putting you down on his left shoulder, and hands you the star like he wasn’t holding another human on one of his shoulders.

You put the star on the top of the tree, moving automatically because your brain hasn't been working properly ever since you stepped into your sister’s house.

“Are you done?” he asks, and he doesn’t even sound tired. “Do you need me to hand you anything else or—”

“No, you can… put me down, please.” You mumble, blushing as he grabs your waist and slowly pulls you down until your feet are touching the floor.

He’s standing behind you, chest glued to your back, and you hold back a yelp, stepping away like his touch is deadly.

“Uh, thanks?” It sounds like a question, but you don’t repeat it again. You turn around, watching as he smiles and nods.

“It looks great, Y/n.”

You also smile, because you always do it whenever people compliment your decorations skills. “Thanks. Again.”

“Well,” he shrugs, looking around. “What do you want to do now?”

You mimic his move, looking around your sister’s living room.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you hum. “Maybe set the table? I know it’s early but—”

“Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He starts walking towards the kitchen and you freak out.

“What!” you yell, and he stops, turning back around and looking at you with confused, pretty eyes. “I mean— what do you mean we?”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I thought I could help.”

“Are you… like… serious?” You frown.

He frowns back. “I was, yes… are you one of those people who don’t like when people try to help because you’re afraid they’ll end up messing up with your arrangements?”

“Well, yes and no,” you laugh, only to shake your head after. “But it’s not that. I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never seen a man get up to help before. Especially during Christmas.”

He seems to take a while to process what you had just said, but then he laughs, beautifully you’d say.

“They weren’t raised by Ellen Hughes, Y/n. I was.”

You smile, realizing you were utterly fucked. And not in a good way.

You and Quinn worked in silence, and even though you almost dropped the plates twice with how nervous you were, this moment will probably keep repeating itself forever inside your head, from the moment you wake up to the moment you'll go to sleep.

He’s calm and he listens to each one of your orders without hesitation, just nodding and doing as you say. He carries the heavy stuff and just lets you busy yourself with making everything pretty, which you do.

You’re about to tell him that you’re done when the TV catches your attention.

“Good evening, and Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This is Nicholas Edwards reporting live with an urgent weather alert. It’s shaping up to be a Christmas Eve like no other—because we are in the midst of a blizzard that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon.”

“Oh my God,” you hear someone saying, and realize that it was you. You move until you’re standing in front of the TV, covering your mouth with your right hand.

“Right now, snow is coming down at an incredible rate, with visibility dropping rapidly. Winds are gusting up to 40 miles per hour, creating near whiteout conditions in many areas. And the latest forecast? The snow isn’t expected to stop until early tomorrow morning—Christmas Day! That means we’re looking at significant snowfall totals, possibly more than 18 inches in some spots.”

“Oh my God,” you repeat, looking at Quinn before looking back at the TV again.

“Officials are urging everyone to stay indoors tonight. If you don’t absolutely need to be out, don’t risk it. Roads are treacherous, power outages are a real possibility, and emergency crews are working hard to keep up.”

“What about my sister and your family?” you ask, almost rhetorically, because you know Quinn knows just as much as you. “They can’t come now because it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll try to call my parents,” he says, reaching for his phone already. “Can you call your sister, please?”

“Already doing it.” You say, dialing your sister’s number.

“So… you saw the news.” Is the first thing she says after picking up and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Quinn and I did,” you say. “What are we going to do? It’s not safe for you to drive around and you’re definitely not driving thirty minutes back to your house in this weather.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs. “Luke and I are together, though. He saw the news before I did and drove me to his and Jack’s apartment since it’s closer to my workplace…”

“So, you’ll stay at their place?” You frown.

“What else can I do, right?” she chuckles, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you. “At least you’re stuck with the sibling that knows how to cook.”

“Hey!” You hear one of Quinn’s brothers, probably Jack, yelling in the back.

“You’re probably right,” you mumble. “Well. We’ll see each other tomorrow then?”

“‘Course we will, bubba,” she sounds joyful again. “Merry Christmas, Y/n. I love you. Tell Quinn I said Merry Christmas to him too!”

“I will,” you nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You stare at your phone screen until it turns black, and sigh. Quinn finishes his phone call and stares at you, blue, fond eyes looking at you with care.

“I guess you heard the same thing as me.” He says and you nod.

“They’re not coming.”

“And neither are my parents,” he sighs. “They’re stuck in their hotel. They’re not letting people leave.”

“God, this sucks,” you grunt, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “We don’t even have food. My sister was supposed to pick it up after she finished her shift but…”

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Quinn says and you can tell he’s trying to sound positive. “Come on, stop pouting.”

You frown. “I wasn’t pouting.”

“Yes, you were,” he smiles. “You do that whenever something doesn’t go your way.”

“I— how do you even know that?” You ask, genuinely amused. He just shrugs and walks back to the kitchen, leaving you and your one hundred thoughts about him alone. “Quinn!”

Dinner goes well. It’s silent and calm, but not in an embarrassing, awkward way. Quinn knows how to cook really well, and his food makes you hold yourself back so you won’t kiss him.

His lips probably taste amazing, just like the rest of him. Sometimes, when your thoughts about how Quinn could make you feel good are too much, you slip your hands under your covers and touch yourself, while imagining your hands are his.

You always feel so deeply embarrassed afterwards, and it takes you a while to convince yourself that you’re not a maniac and getting horny after thinking of your sister’s boyfriend's incredibly hot brother is lowkey expected, because he looks like a God.

You both returned to your bedrooms after the clock hit midnight and you both called your families, with you sleeping in your sister’s room and Quinn sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Although, you haven’t even thought about closing your eyes and going to sleep, because you know you won’t be able to— not when Quinn has been nothing but kind to you the entire night and definitely not when he’s only two doors away from you.

You can feel your body starting to get hot, and you want to shout at it, telling yourself to let it go, because you and Quinn won’t ever be a thing.

You look at the clock sitting on your sister’s bedside table and sigh, reading the late hours. Two thirty-six a.m. and you’re nowhere near Dreamland.

Even though you’re basically at the entrance of Hornyland.

Shaking your head, you get up, deciding to brew some chamomile tea for you, since it always helps you feel sleepier and, hopefully, less horny.

The lukewarm air hits your bare thighs and you’re reminded that you’re not wearing any pants— just one of your sister’s oversized sweaters and panties.

You look around the dark house, watching as snow continues to fall outside, and make your way to the kitchen, walking past Quinn’s closed door and trying not to make any sound.

And you would’ve been successful with your task, if it weren’t for the one plastic cup that fell out of the cupboard when you tried to grab your sister’s kettle.

It fell on the floor and bounced three times before you managed to grab it again. You waited to see if you would hear Quinn’s door open, but since you didn’t, you moved on with your task. While you waited for your water to boil, you leaned against your sister’s island, resting your chin in your hand.

“I thought you were asleep.”

This time, you don’t hold back the yelp that comes out of your mouth. You were so worried about waking Quinn up that you hadn’t considered the fact that he, just like you, might as well not have been able to sleep.

He’s sitting on your sister’s couch, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, looking at you with an indecipherable expression. His entire body is illuminated by the moonlight, and he looks gorgeous.

“Quinn. You scared me,” you put your hand over your heart, feeling your cheeks warm when you realize the movement made your sweater go up, and now Quinn probably saw your underwear. “Uh—”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he gets up, and he does look apologetic. He gets closer to where you were standing and you can help but take a take back. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “No. You?”

“I can’t either,” he says. “Too many thoughts.”

You desperately want to ask him what kind of thoughts are keeping him away from his bed, but you remember that it isn’t your place. And the best thing you can do for yourself right now is stay away from him.

“I— I’ll leave you to it then—”

“Why are you always running away from me?”

His serious tone makes you stop. You look up and stare at his eyes, looking like a child who had just been caught eating sweets before dinner.

Your answer is only natural: “I’m not?”

“Yes, you are,” he steps closer, and the distance between the two of you is now shorter. “Did I do something?”

“What?” you gasp. “No, of course not!”

“Then, you just don’t like me?”

“Gosh, why is it with the Hughes that you’re always so straightforward?” you mumble, frustrated. “I promise you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Is it because you want me to fuck you?” He raises his brow and you almost drop dead in front of him.

“What.”

It’s almost comical how your eyes double in size and how your mouth opens, just like in the cartoons. You’re trying really hard not to pack your things and leave, because you’re sure something possessed Quinn.

“I’m not dumb, y’know,” he starts. “I can tell when someone’s interested in me, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Quinn—”

“At first,” he continues, paying you no mind. “I thought you were just shy. Then, I realized you only acted that way with me, but I thought you just didn’t like me. But…”

He lifts his hand up and caresses your cheek, the touch making you shiver instantly.

“Would someone who doesn’t like me stare at me like you do?” He keeps touching your face, the light feather touches barely there, but keeping you restless anyway. “It’s so sweet when you blush like that.”

“Quinn…” you try, once again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“Uncomfortable?” he chuckles, like the word alone is enough to make him laugh. “No, sweetheart, you made me hard.”

You blush, thankful that the moonlight isn’t enough to show your red cheeks. “O-Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he smiles, lifting your face just slightly with his thumb on your chin. “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

I thought you’d never ask, you think. “Yes,” is what you say.

His lips taste like peppermint and his touch on your skin feels like fire. He presses your body against the counter, the cold marble hitting the back of your naked thighs and making you shiver.

It was a pleasant contrast, though: the warmth of his hands holding you close with the coldness of the stone making you shiver.

He kissed you fervently and you moaned inside his mouth, forgetting your shyness and running your fingers through his silky, soft hair. It was like opening presents on Christmas morning, because ever since you were a teenager you’ve been wanting to get your hands on him and now—

“You were right,” you say, breathless. Quinn tilts his head to the side, confused. “I want you to f-fuck me.”

He smirks, mischievously, and it’s probably one of the hottest things you have ever seen.

“Here?” he asks, chuckling.

“No,” you laugh. “My sister would kill me.”

“Mhm.” It’s all he says before picking you up once again, manhandling you however he wanted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

His bed is untouched when he lays you on it, a clear signal that he hadn’t even laid on it yet. Your sweater rode up, leaving your belly and your panties exposed.

Even though you’re not the type of girl to get embarrassed while having sex, you can feel your cheeks getting warm under Quinn’s lustful gaze. You have imagined this situation so many times before but you never actually thought your dreams would come true, so all of this is still hard for you to take in.

“I can actually hear your brain thinking, Y/n,” Quinn chuckles, standing in front of you. The outline of his dick is so noticeable it has your mouth dry.

“It’s not everyday your crush of years take you to bed,” you let out, only realising what you had just said when you watch his eyebrow going up, and a malicious smile decorate his beautiful face. “I mean—”

“Trust me, Y/n, if I hadn’t spent the last year thinking you hated me, you would’ve ended up in my bed from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

He leans forward, then starts to pull your panties down. It’s embarrassing to say the least because you know that the fabric which was once pearly, cotton white, is now transparent and ruined. Quinn doesn’t seem to mind that— in fact, the smirk on his face just continues to grow.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, and you almost choke on your own spit. “Been thinking about you for so long I’m half convinced this is just another dream.”

He drops your underwear somewhere, and places his index finger between your wet folds, the cold touch contrasting with your hotness. He rubs, up and down, slowly and steady. It has you biting your lips, hard.

“Was it like that with you too, Y/n?” he asks, tone one octave deeper. “Endless dreams of how I would fuck you senseless, leave you wet and whimpering in my sheets, pussy dripping with my cum.”

He kept getting closer to your clit each time he opened his mouth to talk, but he still wasn’t touching it, which was starting to frustrate you.

“Quinn—”

“I’d always wake up hard, with my dick throbbing inside my pants, and you know what I’d do?”

He places his finger on your engorged clit, but doesn’t do anything, just— waits.

“Ask me what I would do, Y/n.” He orders, and you moan before complying.

“What, ah, what would you do?” you ask, and he starts moving his finger again. “Ah.”

“I’d fuck my hand. Wrap my dick around them, holding it tightly, imagining it was your cunt squeezing me like that,” he confesses, opening your legs more, leaving you spread in front of him like you’re nothing but a cheap whore. “And I’d come so hard, imagining I was filling you up. In the next morning, I’d shake hands with you, watching you give me that sweet smile of yours, not even knowing that I had just used it to touch myself while imagining it was you.”

He pressed two fingers on your hole, making you clench around nothing while he seemed to be having fun with your struggle.

“Was it like that with you, too?” he asks again, but you can tell by his reaction that he wasn’t expecting you to answer. Yet, you do it anyway.

“N-not dreams,” you breathe, as he inserts two of his fingers inside you, blue eyes never leaving yours. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d, ah, touch myself, and pretend it was you.”

“Yeah?” he hums, sinking his fingers deeper inside you, the wet sound of sex leaving you dizzy. “Such a naughty, little slut.”

You moan, and Quinn stops holding back as he starts finger fucking you, finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers up until he had you trashing under him. You took pride in knowing your body and mastering the art of touching yourself, but not even in your wildest dreams you’d imagine that having something inside you could feel this good.

You’re not even holding back your sounds, you just let Quinn hear how insane he drives you, and good you’re feeling. You have your eyes closed— because holding eye contact with Quinn might be too much for you to handle— and your boobs exposed, since your sweater rode all the way up.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build up and just when you’re about to warn Quinn about it, he pulls his fingers back, making you cry, loudly.

“Wha— why?” you sound needy and desperate but you pay it no mind.

Quinn smiles, so sweet and kind that you wouldn’t even imagine what came out of his mouth afterwards.

“You’ll come on my cock tonight, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

The rest of what happens is basically history.

He removes his sweatpants and his dick hits his stomach, the tip almost purple with how red it was. The precum leaking from it made you lick your lips, imagining how good it would feel to have that in your mouth.

He throws the pants somewhere, and lays on top of you, right in the middle of your spread thighs. He looks down and holds his dick, rubbing it up and down on your folds, mixing your wetness with his, and just the view is almost enough to make you come.

He rubs the tip on your clit, and you watch as your swollen, needy button throbs under the nasty touch, and how your pussy leaves his dick glistening with how wet you were.

“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” His voice is calm, and soft, different from previously. You nod, smiling shyly. “Words, baby.”

“‘Mkay,” you answer, closing your eyes as he inserts himself inside you, slowly.

You can feel your walls opening up for him, and even though you’ve had sex before, nothing will ever top this. He’s thick, and you can feel him everywhere, deeper and deeper.

“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say, turning your hands into fists.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses, putting his hands on each side of your face. “Squeezing me so good, fuck, Y/n, I might come in seconds if you keep squeezing me like that.”

He removes his dick from you, leaving just the tip, only to slam it back in you, fucking you senseless, just like he told you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room almost as quick as the tears fell from your eyes, the feeling of finally getting what— or who— you wanted making you cry tears of joy.

He kept fucking you, and once his lips found yours once again, you knew you were done. You came on his dick, like he said you’d do, moaning inside his mouth and pulling his hair, harshly.

“Fuck, Quinn, uh,” you inhaled his scent as his naked body engulfed yours completely. “Fuck, fuck.”

“It’s like you were made to, uh, take my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, a clear sign that he was about to come. “Say it, baby, tell me what you were made for.”

“Quinn—”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I was made to take y-your cock,” you sob. “O-only yours.”

“Only mine?” you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Only yours.”

“Good,” thrust, “Girl.” Thrust.

He takes his dick out of you just a few seconds before he comes, and the loss of it makes you whimper and hide your face in his neck. The warm feeling of his come against your used, swollen cunt is enough to get another orgasm out of you, even if a little bit weaker this time.

You both stay silent, only the sounds of your breaths filling up the room. The weight of his body on top of you is comforting, and even though you know he’s not putting all of his weight on top of you, you feel safe either way.

“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible, since your face is still in his neck.

He chuckles, breathless. “What are you saying thank you for, baby? I should be the one saying thank you.”

“You just made all of my wet dreams come true,” you explain. “Even if we’re probably going to hell because no one should be having sex on Christmas.”

Quinn laughs and rolls to the side, resting his head on the pillow. “Touché, sweetheart, touché,” he turns his head to the side and looks at you. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Quinny.”

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist.

[norikuna]

THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !

prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams

a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩

mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!

if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.

forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.

officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!

but did you care? not in the slightest.

you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.

the target in question? toji fushiguro.

your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.

months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.

yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.

but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.

your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.

right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.

you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.

she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.

and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.

your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.

toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.

not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.

you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.

and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.

not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.

but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.

so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.

fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.

except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.

still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.

the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.

your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.

"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.

and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.

you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.

you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.

but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.

the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.

"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."

uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.

see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.

but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.

so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.

you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.

it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.

you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.

"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.

right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.

your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.

"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.

"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.

toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."

you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.

cute. almost.

you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.

every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.

"so, are you doing anything tonight?"

"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.

you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"

he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"

"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."

toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."

the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."

your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?

"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.

he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.

"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.

toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"

"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."

and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."

"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.

"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.

toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.

"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"

"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."

"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.

"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.

the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.

"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.

"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.

you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."

"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"

"i've been told."

tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."

time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."

toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."

you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."

"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.

"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."

you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."

"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.

"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."

"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.

back to the drawing board.

toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?

his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.

what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?

he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.

"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.

"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."

shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.

"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.

and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.

still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.

what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.

tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.

what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.

civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?

"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.

"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."

she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"

"six. he's...not here tonight."

before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.

"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"

toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.

his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?

"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"

toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?

his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"

"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.

his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."

cute, yeah.

you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.

"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."

toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.

meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.

he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.

her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."

toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."

"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.

"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."

toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."

toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.

he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.

"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"

his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.

"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."

toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.

the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.

every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.

but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.

a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.

what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.

your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.

still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.

toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.

half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.

he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.

you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.

with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.

you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.

with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.

you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.

perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?

you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.

but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.

you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.

"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."

there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.

your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."

each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —

"hey!"

and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."

toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.

the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.

you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?

you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.

"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.

toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.

you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."

toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.

you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"

you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."

toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."

"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.

"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.

"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"

"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.

"huh?"

"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.

you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."

"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."

"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."

toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."

something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"

you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.

it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.

you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.

"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.

toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.

"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"

you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.

you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"

you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.

"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."

"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.

"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"

you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"

your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.

"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."

he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.

that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.

his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."

"shut u-up."

"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.

his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.

his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.

"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.

"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.

you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.

and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.

"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.

you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.

"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"

toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."

he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —

"aaand, cum. now, doll."

it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.

you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"

you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"

toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."

you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"

he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"

you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."

"fuck."

in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.

and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.

"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"

that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.

he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.

you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.

toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.

you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.

and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.

but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!

"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.

rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.

toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.

"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.

"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"

each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"

you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."

"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.

"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.

"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.

your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.

your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.

he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.

you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"

"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"

"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."

it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."

and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.

"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."

toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.

"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.

in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.

before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.

ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.

damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.

toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.

"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"

toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"

[prael]

Day 3: Reciprocation

Itzy Yeji x male reader smut

words: 6,714 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

If there's one thing you've learned dealing with the rich, the famous and the devious, it's that there's always a deal to be made.

-

"Not often that I see a girl like you in a place like this."

"Well, you're an incredibly difficult man to track down."

It's the girl who's supposed to be on the main page of your site starting tomorrow morning. You gesture for Yeji to sit by your side, and while there are more than enough empty seats around you, she prefers to stand. What is this, a fucking power move?

"Well, you could have just called my office and made yourself an appointment."

It doesn't amuse her. She simply brings her hands up to rest on her hips as she looks at you.

"Look, let's get to the point. You can't post the article." There is something rather endearing in watching how she talks to you. Her hips are cocked and her face bears a look of determination, but she lacks confidence. You're not sure she even believes herself. Maybe she's just hoping that you'll cave.

You meet her eyes and hold her gaze for a few moments, searching for a crack in her armour. It's hard to say for certain when the only lighting in this club is what little neon they have on display, but there seems to be something else hiding behind her stare. A nervous energy, perhaps. So, you correct her, "I can post the article."

"Look— I, I have money." She takes a single stride towards you, with her long slender legs of which only part of her thigh is covered by the bottom of her dress. That thing clings to them like it does every other inch of her body. One hell of a figure.

"I'm well aware."

"Okay then, how much money will it take for you to drop the article?"

"Money doesn't compare to an article like this one—you know that. Come on," you lean forward a bit. "You should be smarter than that."

"How much?!" Yeji says again. There's an edge to her voice now and a stern look in her eyes. She must feel that you're not taking her seriously—honestly, you aren't. You can't count the number of times an agency has tried to block an article by simply throwing money your way. The novelty has worn off. 

"Listen, Miss Hwang, I appreciate the effort you have gone through to manufacture a meeting with me, however, just like I told your PR team, I'm not for sale. Should you want to avoid this sort of thing, then I'd recommend being a little more discreet the next time you want to fuck around." You glance at the door leading out. The exit sign above is blinking erratically, but it serves its intended purpose nonetheless. "I'll see you in tomorrow morning's news."

"No."

"No?" You raise an eyebrow. She may be a star and she may make people go crazy in more ways than one, but if you've learned something about yourself over the years, it's that you aren't as easily swayed by beauty alone, nor impressed by fame.

Yeji remains silent, her eyes looking down to the table in front of you and your mind instantly starts conjuring up scenarios where the girl goes into a screaming fit or starts throwing a tantrum until security drags her sorry ass out the door.

Her head snaps up again. "Fine." Yeji turns sideways and steps around the small table. It becomes apparent that she plans on sitting by your side, after all. She isn't exactly looking at you as she plops herself onto the cushioned bench. "You said 'next time', right?" She begins quietly.

In spite of yourself, a smile appears on your face when you see the wheels turn inside of Yeji's head. "I don't think I understand."

"Yes, you do," Yeji replies dryly. And with the certainty now back in her voice, it appears you've misjudged her.

When you remain silent for a few moments, Yeji eventually gives in and takes a quick, inconspicuous breath before looking up again. Her face is but inches from your own. "Have sex with me tonight."

It takes effort not to burst into laughter in response to such an absurd offer, and as a result, the amusement is probably pretty damn clear in the tone of your reply. "You're cute."

"I'm serious."

You look the girl in the eyes once more, leaning backwards. "You know how much trouble you could get into for trying something like this, right?"

Yeji's jaw clenches momentarily. "Yeah."

You gaze down along her body again. The skin on her thighs seems smooth and silky; definitely worth a closer inspection, and you would be lying if you said the knowledge of her dirty hook-ups didn't have your mind wondering about all the ways she might be willing to work her body in an attempt to sway you. You wonder if she likes it rough; likes having someone grab hold of those black locks of hers and yank her head back. Likes having a cock slammed down her throat. Your thoughts quickly go into a tailspin which has you imagining Yeji crawling towards you dressed up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a hungry smile plastered across her face and a yearning desire to find out what sort of mess you could turn her into.

"So," you begin quietly. "I don't release an article about the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked—and in exchange, I get to sleep with the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked. Do I have that right?"

You see the embarrassment cross Yeji's features briefly, yet she still manages to bite out her reply with certainty: "Yes."

For some reason, even though she's been found out and forced into making such an absurd deal, she refuses to lower her gaze away from yours, almost daring you to judge her. You've seen her music videos online—goddamnit, everyone has—and she's sexy as hell. No one would deny that, and she looks stunning in that black dress of hers. It really compliments her figure. Legs go on for days, a toned physique and looking down the front of her dress as she leans into you, a pretty little pair of tits hidden somewhere in there as well.

"I've been propositioned before, you know, but usually that's to get their face on the front page, not off it." You cock your head at her. "How badly do you want this dropped, anyway?"

"What are you trying to say?"

You lean back slowly, deliberately, resting your shoulders against the seat as you feel Yeji's eyes study your every move. Despite the terrible lighting, you can tell she's biting her lip nervously. She's so close that the scent coming off her fills the air around you. It's a pleasant smell. One you wouldn't mind having all over your bed.

"I'll be blunt." Your eyes fall to her chest and you take note of how Yeji squirms under your stare. A tiny smile appears on your lips. "I'd love to fuck you. Hell, anyone in their right mind would love to fuck you. You're a very attractive girl, after all." You nod in her direction. "So, that part will happen if I agree to this deal of yours, however, there's one thing you haven't accounted for."

Yeji meets your stare. Her voice is low, yet resolute. "Which is?"

"You have no idea of whether or not I'm actually going to uphold my end of the bargain."

She pauses in silence and then moves her hand across the table, scooping up your drink and raising it to her full lips. As she knocks back the remainder, the way her slender neck stretches makes you wish you could wrap your hands around it.

The glass hits the table and Yeji licks her lips softly. The sight has you licking your own and for just a second, the both of you simply gaze at each other in silence, almost sizing each other up. Yeji finally shifts closer to you until she's right by your side. Her breasts press up against your shoulder and you feel her warmth on your arm.

One of her delicate hands lands gently in your lap and slides upwards onto your thigh where she starts to draw small circles with her fingertips. You wonder if she notices the slight hitch in your breath as she touches you. "We can go to your office. Sign a document. Legally binding. Non-disclosure. And agree to write a favourable piece about me. You can send out the request to your best columnist there and then. And then you can take me right there." Her words come out in soft whispers and her eyes dart over your face, trying to read your reaction.

Yeji is young and beautiful and she's clearly horny enough to get herself into this kind of mess. It doesn't come as too much of a surprise to you, then, when you feel a delicate fingertip trace over your crotch. "Take you?"

"On your desk. Over your desk," she elaborates shamelessly and with a hint of cheek in her voice. There's a smug expression on her face. She's enjoying herself but also relieved to be getting through to you. "However you want me."

"So, it's an exchange? A dirty deal done in the darkness?"

Yeji smirks. "I prefer to call it reciprocation."

-

Friday night in the office and it still has the passive hum of life, though not much of it. Cutting through the air is the loud clack of Yeji's high heels as she follows you silently past empty room after empty room. The interns putting in the long hours are all on the lower floors, giving you just enough discretion.

You glance back briefly at her before rounding the corner. Just like you had imagined, she seems rather timid now. Head held slightly down and glancing around the place, almost like she's embarrassed to be here with you.

Finally, you reach your private office near the far wall of the floor and wave Yeji inside. As you step up to your desk and turn, Yeji closes the door behind herself and watches you intently. The soft light in here gives you a much better opportunity to appreciate her.

"Come." You gesture her over while simultaneously logging into your PC.

It only takes a few simple clicks to bring up a basic confidentiality agreement which you proceed to edit. "As requested," you begin. "This agreement prohibits me from writing anything related to your numerous encounters with nameless men and women in various hotels throughout Seoul. Failure to abide by these terms enables you to take legal action against me and my firm to any extent deemed necessary."

She places her palms on the desk as you turn the monitor to show her. She reads it. You read here. Leaning forward has the front of her dress hang open a bit further. It's the first glance you get of her red bra underneath and the swell of her chest, just big enough for handfuls. She sees your wandering eyes, yet continues to scan the terms of the contract. It makes you curious if the idea of being looked at like some cheap slut turns her on. Maybe you should try referring to her as such. Would she object? Or encourage?

Yeji nods in approval and you click 'print'. She looks past you, watching it emerge from the machine.

"That's all we need," you say, never looking away from her. There's something mesmerising about her eyes. They're large, they're dark and they tend to draw you in. "Now I can't expose your whorish tendencies."

She looks offended momentarily. "Whorish?"

"Two months. Forty-two hotel visits were recorded. Thirty-five different partners." The chair rolls away as you push it back and stand up, towering over her frame. "Yes, you're fucking whorish, Yeji. Our research was thorough."

"I'm just having fun." She stops leaning on the desk. You both take a step in unison, beginning to round the desk while staring each other down. The moment feels tense. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh, I agree completely."

Another step. Another inch towards each other.

"There's no shame in being a bit of a slut. An incredibly beautiful slut."

A third.

You're face to face. Those heels make her almost as tall as you, and you glance at Yeji's lips as the tip of her tongue suddenly darts out over them. The only sound between the two of you is your shared breathing. Yeji tilts her head back slightly and gazes into your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to act upon your desire. Waiting for you to throw her onto the desk and fuck the living shit out of her, just as she asked for.

You wait.

Her lower lip disappears beneath the bite of her teeth.

Wait.

A sudden flush rises up onto Yeji's cheeks, undoubtedly born from her frustration, but you don't miss the excitement hiding within it either. Then, Yeji takes another step forward, one which has you taking hold of her waist, pushing yourself hard up against her body.

Almost instantly, the pair of you go from hesitant to frantic, moving without a single word being spoken between either of you.

Your mouths meet in an open-mouthed kiss of heat, passion and impatience. There's a gasp coming from somewhere, a mixture of a moan as the two of you collide. It takes more willpower than expected not to shove your tongue down Yeji's throat as you feel hers slide against yours in an instant. Fingernails dig into your neck; not hard enough to leave marks, yet not soft enough to be mistaken as anything else than a woman showing what she wants. It's exactly what you wanted to do when you first saw her tonight.

She bites on your lip, sucks on it and goes straight back in. You grab hold of her tightly and shuffle her backwards towards the desk. You can barely restrain yourself. A groan rises up in the depths of your stomach when Yeji parts her legs slightly, welcoming your body in between them.

Every part of you tells you to bend her over and start hammering yourself into her, yet there's still one last detail you must attend to. You break free of Yeji's grasp and shove her roughly down onto your desk.

Her hair fans out around her head and her gaze looks darker somehow, more lustrous under this light. You follow her shape, down, over the bumps of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and then to the hem of her dress, where bare thigh begins again. She shudders under the weight of your stare. Legs falling apart, invitingly.

You feel Yeji tremble under your tender touch as you run your hand up the outside of her thigh and push up the fabric of her dress. The tips of your fingers bump along the rim of her underwear before reaching her hip where you trace shapes absentmindedly. She's smooth and silky everywhere.

"What is it?" Yeji asks breathlessly when you don't move for a few moments. Your attention remains firmly locked on that final detail. The thin lace material covering her cunt.

You look her dead in the eyes and curl your fingers around it. "Just wondering how many different people have had you like this."

The red lace is pulled aside. Yeji stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your bluntness as you lean down a little further and angle her leg to the side, letting cool air hit every inch of her bare sex. And it's a lovely sight, all things considered. Neat, trimmed and glistening wet. Your hand moves across her thigh to hold her in place. "Usually I'm on top," Yeji replies, finally regaining her confidence.

"You'd rather be riding me, huh?"

"Yes." Yeji's answer comes immediately. Your cock is stiffening already at the mere thought of having her small body bouncing in your lap as she rides your length like a bitch in heat.

She runs her own hands up her slender frame, feeling up the sides of her own waist, skirting around those perky tits and letting out the smallest whimper of anticipation as she caresses the side of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter with desire. It seems the girl enjoys being admired just as much as you enjoy admiring.

"Don't worry, you'll get to ride it soon enough." Slowly, you drag your middle finger up between her folds, making sure you put enough pressure down against the sweet little bud of nerves to make her arch her back at the sensation. A deep inhale catches itself in the back of Yeji's throat when you sink your fingertip inside of her, only for it to turn into a disappointed sigh when you withdraw.

She bites her lip in embarrassment, no doubt mortified that she couldn't keep quiet at such a simple action, although that doesn't stop you from repeating the movement, applying more pressure and then sinking further into her. This time you withdraw and then taste your finger curiously. If the sweet scent wafting off her wasn't enough indication, she tastes as good as she looks.

"How are you so wet already?" you ask. "All from thinking about getting railed over my desk, hmm?" You ask teasingly, lowering your mouth down closer to her pussy and holding your breath for a moment. You can feel the warmth coming off her.

"It's exciting."

"What, fucking a stranger?"

"Yes," Yeji says bluntly. She wets her lips. "There's nothing quite like giving yourself up to someone completely random."

Your hand slides down her calf and gently pulls off her heel. As soon as it hits the ground, it's replaced with a slow and tender kiss on the inside of her ankle. The skin is just as smooth and supple as the rest of her. From here you have a much better view of how her delicate little flower pulses in longing.

Your head dips and you suck hard on Yeji's inner thigh. You delight in the surprised yelp leaving her mouth as you rake your teeth over her soft skin, pulling at it before letting go. It leaves behind a lovely purple bruise which you blow cold air over, soothing the irritated skin. It makes you smile, knowing that mark will remain for a week, to be seen by whoever she fucks next.

"Do you get excited thinking about having me join the list of cocks pounding away at you?"

Without allowing Yeji time to think, your tongue finds her clit and starts drawing shapes around it. "Yes!" You hear her hiss. Your left arm reaches under her thigh and keeps her pinned down to the table while your right does the same, only giving your tongue freedom to dance over her wet cunt.

You sample her thoroughly, getting her used to the feeling of your warm tongue running over every part of her. You apply more pressure to your work once you notice Yeji bucking her hips upwards to grind against your mouth.

"Oh shit." Yeji is panting heavily now, gasping for breath whenever you pay special attention to her clit. Her thighs quiver every so often, tensing around your head. "Don't—don't stop."

Yeji has the nicest legs you've ever laid eyes on. The way they wrap tightly around your head, squeezing the air out of you when you suck down on her swollen clit, it feels heavenly.

Suddenly, Yeji's hips thrust forward, throwing your rhythm off momentarily.

"Mmm, oh—fuck," she whimpers as you feel her body shake and quiver underneath your touch. Your pace doesn't slacken even once throughout.

"Fuck," Yeji whines louder this time. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Already?

You put more pressure on her hips, keeping them pinned down as best as possible, whilst your tongue attacks her with fervent desperation, spurred on by Yeji's declaration. As the seconds pass by, Yeji becomes more vocal, though not with her words—with her actions. Her breathing picks up noticeably. Soon it becomes short and ragged. Her chest heaves. Her fingers claw into the surface below her. Her spine curves beautifully and her lips hang open wide, allowing loud cries to escape her.

She practically sings out for you as her nails scratch at your desk, looking for something to hold on to, something to ground her. Her whole body tenses up for several moments.

Then it happens.

Her mouth opens up wide yet no sound comes out, her back arches almost unnaturally and her juices coat your chin. The silence hangs in the air, heavy, palpable as her walls contract in ecstasy. Then it's finally broken with a loud snap. One of her fake nails pops off and flies across the room as she grips too hard on the edge of the desk.

Then she moans. Guttural, wanton, unrestrained, absolutely filthy. It fills the room, reverberating back to you in a delicious chorus of hedonism and pleasure. She lies there limp with her eyes shut. Her mouth open. Panting heavily. Basking in the glow.

"So easily?" you ask quietly. Yeji takes a deep breath, trying to steady her heart rate. Your hands leave her hips, caressing her trembling flesh, sliding upwards, running up her dress and over the curve of her waist until you reach her shoulders. You tug the straps down the length of her arms and lean closer, pushing the soft material down to reveal the top of her matching red lingerie. Your hand cups the back of her head. She instinctively knows to lift it.

You lower your lips down to her collarbone as you reach behind her to unzip her dress. The sensation of your kisses against her neck draws another moan out of Yeji. A quiet one this time, however. Gentle. Contended.

You kiss upwards, planting several against the underside of her jaw and the corners of her lips. "I can't stop myself," she whispers, opening her eyes just in time for you to press your lips against hers, tasting the lingering sweetness in your mouth. She smiles.

"Let's get you out of that dress," you say and she nods in agreement. "Up," you order softly and Yeji complies, lifting herself high enough for you to pull the material down her waist and over the length of her thighs. It falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. All that remains is the expensive-looking red underwear set she chose for this occasion.

The two of you exchange looks. She bites her lip. She can see the burning lust raging within your eyes. You don't care if it gives the game away.

There's an absolutely wicked smile that draws across her lips as you start to unbutton your shirt. Her voice is all sultry seduction when she says, "I've been meaning to ask you, are you always swayed so easily?"

"Honestly? Not really," you respond calmly, watching how her eyes eagerly take in your torso as you shrug off your clothing. "Maybe there is something about you that's just..." you trail off, unsure of how to end the sentence.

Yeji sits up on the edge of the desk and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you in closer so that your bodies connect. You feel her lips press against your chest in soft kisses. A finger trails over your abdomen, drawing patterns over your skin before moving downwards. "Yes?"

"Different." Your belt is quickly undone and dropped alongside her dress. Nimble fingers begin unbuttoning your trousers. You run your hands through her hair, appreciating how silky it feels running through your fingers.

Yeji has her gaze focused between your bodies, on her hands as they push your jeans down to the floor and you notice the change in her breathing the moment she wraps her hand around your cock.

She kisses her way up to your neck where her lips tickle your skin as she mumbles: "In a good way?"

Yeji presses the flat of her palm against the base of your erection, rubbing slowly. Your head tilts backwards slightly and you allow yourself a low groan. There's a warm puff of air as she giggles quietly against your neck.

"In a great way," you answer.

"Good," she purrs, suddenly tightening her grip on you and giving you several deliberate strokes. You watch intently as Yeji runs her thumb over the tip of your dick, circling it a few times before continuing with her motions. She leans closer, wrapping her legs around your body and placing her mouth by your ear. "I know what I said earlier about loving to ride a cock and all that," her voice is filled with lust. Pure, unbridled desire. "But honestly? I'd do just about anything right now to have you fuck me against this desk."

And that does it for you.

All semblance of control vanishes entirely in a heartbeat.

You drag her from her perch, only to turn her around and push her right back against the desk. Yeji bends over the edge and places both her palms flat atop it. You watch her toned legs move apart as she spreads them invitingly. Your hand reaches out to rest on her ass.

Soft. Round. Supple. Just begging to be fucked. Your dick rests comfortably between her cheeks, which are covered by the flimsiest piece of lace you've ever seen. The pair of you groan together in anticipation at the sensation of feeling each other so intimately. The anticipation of what is soon to come.

"You want me to fuck you, huh?" you ask.

Yeji turns her head to look at you, dark strands of black hair hanging before her beautiful, desperate eyes. "Please."

She waits expectantly as you move back just enough to hook your fingers into her underwear and pull them down slowly, revealing the pretty little cunt you had tasted earlier. The desk is ever so slightly too tall for her, and her long legs stretch to rest on her tiptoes.

You run your hand down between Yeji's pert cheeks, delighting in the gasp of relief leaving her mouth as you cup her heat. Your fingers slip through her slick, coating themselves with her natural arousal before one sinks inside effortlessly. You push it deep, drawing a content sigh from her lips as your digit bottoms out.

A second follows shortly after and she clenches hard around the pair of them.

"Your cock," Yeji demands. You curl your fingers inside of her, delighted by how she struggles to speak when you graze her weak spots. "Want it..."

"But this is fun," you state simply, continuing to explore every inch of her, learning which places cause the biggest reactions and relishing in her quiet hums of satisfaction every time you stimulate them. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make your cock pulse with the need to be inside her. That warm wetness wrapped snugly around your fingers would feel downright amazing around you.

Yeji wriggles her body, pressing her ass against you and whimpering as your digits push inside again. "Please... your cock." Your eyes drop from the beauty bent over in front of you and focus instead on the sight of your fingers disappearing repeatedly between those gorgeous legs. How her muscles clench and her toes curl against the carpet with each and every motion of your digits inside her. She looks ready. She feels ready.

"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely—"

You slip your fingers out. The whine of loss from Yeji barely has time to fade as you grab hold of her ass with both hands, spread it out, line yourself up with her cunt and sink inside without hesitation. Fuck it. Why go slow?

"Oh god," Yeji moans as your hips meet. Her knuckles turn white as she claws at the surface of the desk in an effort to cope with the feeling of fullness that she's clearly experiencing right now. Her eyes widen and she bites hard into the back of her lip as her cunt stretches around you, accommodating you perfectly. She exhales deeply.

It's all worth it—the workplace compromise. This moment right here where your thick cock rests deep inside of Hwang Yeji's warm, wet cunt. Finally. And holy fucking hell—it's everything you could've ever asked for.

"I knew you'd feel so fucking good," you murmur, trailing your hands up Yeji's slender figure, feeling her back tense slightly when she lets out a small moan of agreement. Your fingers tangle into her long hair, wrap it around your fist, give a harsh tug to pull her head backwards, earning a sharp intake of air—and then you start rutting your hips into hers. Long, forceful strokes fill the air with repeated claps of skin slapping against skin.

The choked moans which tumble from Yeji's lips are music to your ears, encouraging you to keep her pinned down against your desk with a strong hand on the small of her back. Your fingertips press into her flawless skin hard enough to bruise, yet neither of you cares—not when there are far more important matters to attend to. Namely, pounding Yeji's brains out and filling her tight little pussy with ropes of hot cum.

So, you pick up your pace, quickening the tempo and making sure each thrust of your hips goes harder than the previous. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream with each movement of your body against hers. Every slap of your hips against her ass elicits a reaction.

You're already addicted to her. Everything about Yeji makes you want to hold nothing back, and as you pull yourself out only to slam back inside her depths, you can't help but notice the absolute debauchery dripping from her words when she begs: "Harder. Fuck me harder."

And who are you to refuse her request? She looks incredible anyway, but seeing her eyes screw shut in bliss while a strand of saliva escapes past her open mouth? Nothing would convince you to let up now.

The constant clatter of objects rattling and shifting across the surface of your desk adds a nice soundtrack to the experience. So do the increasingly frequent moans spilling freely from Yeji's lips, each one higher-pitched than the last. They spur you on. Give you the incentive to chase after her pleasure.

And then you feel the telltale clamping down of her walls around you. Your cock is held tightly in her warmth, refusing to relinquish its grasp on you until you've filled her with cum. Until you've pumped your load deep inside of her wanting cunt. You know it's coming and you adjust accordingly. Forcing yourself to maintain rhythm as you pound her pussy into submission.

You yank on her hair and tug her upwards, forcing her back to crash against your torso. You bring your other hand to her chest, sliding beneath the fabric of her bra to cup at her tit. Her hands desperately search for but fail to find, purchase on the desk. She's helplessly suspended between your grasp and your cock as she cums. Helpless to do anything except take it. Take what she's given.

An indecent series of shrieks and wails erupts from somewhere deep within her chest as Yeji's body seizes up and convulses violently against yours. It sets you off. You bury yourself hilt-deep inside of her and explode. Your vision goes blurry, your toes curl, your jaw clenches shut and your teeth grind painfully together.

It takes everything within you not to collapse forwards on top of the girl you're filling to the brim, instead relying solely on the strength of your grip to stay upright as your cock jerks erratically inside of her, pulsating again and again, releasing stream after stream of creamy spunk deep into her.

As soon as the world stops spinning and the fog starts clearing from your mind, you're met with the sight of Hwang Yeji trying desperately to regain any semblance of control over her own body as well. She's slumped atop your desk, panting heavily, her body twitching occasionally.

You lean down, peppering a gentle trail of kisses down the side of her neck, stopping briefly at the space just below her ear where you whisper, "You look stunning like this."

It takes Yeji several seconds before she manages a reply. She eventually opens her eyes halfway and gives you an exhausted smile. "Like what?"

"Sweaty. Thoroughly used. Filled to the fucking brim."

Your comment draws a faint giggle from her which ends abruptly the moment you drag yourself backwards, slipping your softening cock out of her cunt along with the rush of semen that spills from her and trickles onto your desk.

"Oh god," Yeji mutters as the mess slips from between her legs. She pushes herself up from her prone position and lifts herself off your table, leaving behind a lovely sticky patch where her crotch had rested. You stumble towards your chair and plop down on it, resting your back against the cool leather whilst admiring Yeji's flushed features.

"I still haven't gotten to ride your cock yet."

"I don't know if I—"

Yeji drops to her knees in front of you and grabs the base of your shaft without a second thought, squeezing it lightly and causing it to stiffen slightly. "Well I do," she declares.

She leans closer.

You catch sight of your reflection in her dark brown eyes just before Yeji extends her tongue, running it carefully over the sensitive skin of your cock before planting a wet kiss against the tip. Then she does it again. And again. The movements become a pattern until, suddenly, you're enveloped by the heat of Yeji's mouth.

"Ah," you gasp as she takes you. So sensitive to the touch of her tongue as it swirls around you. She hums approvingly at your reaction and slides deeper, taking your semi-erect cock further into her mouth as she continues to suck you off. Her head bobs slowly up and down, gradually coaxing you back to life until she slips you out from between her lips with a pop.

"That got you hard fast enough." Yeji grins. She stands up straight, and then your jaw falls open slightly at the sight of Yeji reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It falls to the ground in slow motion. Delicate pale skin stretches beautifully over perky breasts topped with cute pink nipples. God damn.

Yeji straddles your lap, trapping your body underneath hers. It doesn't take much to push you inside. To have her slide down the length of your shaft once again. She sits still for a few seconds, grinding her hips subtly against yours whilst biting on her lower lip. "Fuck, this feels good." She rotates her hips in little circles. "Feel that? I'm still full of your cum."

The pace is slower now. You're content to sit back, listen to the sounds of wet, sloppy sex filling the office air, and watch how her beautiful features contort with pleasure when your cock scrapes against a weak spot. There's something incredibly arousing about having such a famous idol sitting in your lap, fucking herself silly on your dick alone. She uses it like a toy to chase after her own pleasure.

One of her hands laces itself into your hair, tugging on it harshly. You retaliate with equal ferocity by sinking your fingers into Yeji's plump ass. It earns you a wonderful hiss of approval which comes accompanied by a tight squeeze around your shaft as her free hand moves down between your bodies and furiously rubs at her clit.

It's not long before you realise that she's close, and judging by her frantic behaviour, you figure she isn't looking to make it last longer.

Yeji whimpers cutely. Her head falls backwards, exposing her perfect neck. An expanse of unblemished, untouched skin that simply demands to be marked. Claimed. Taken.

And so you lean forwards, place your mouth on the soft skin and start sucking on it, nipping at the supple flesh. You feel her tighten around you instantly.

"Oh god!" She cries out. Yeji tries to bounce in your lap but fails miserably. She's no longer in control of her body. All she can do is quiver, cry out, and gasp in ecstasy as another orgasm surges through her. It's nowhere near as powerful as the previous two. Instead, it's drawn out. Lasting longer and keeping her moaning throughout.

When it's over and done with, you release your hold on her neck. In return, her exhausted head comes to rest against your shoulder. Her hot pants hit your cheek as she lay there limply against your frame.

"Too much?" you tease and Yeji scoffs. You give her a gentle spank and ask, "That's all you've got?"

"Just catching my breath."

She puts action to word immediately and picks herself back up. There's a determination etched all over her face as she brings both arms to rest on your shoulders, locking you in place and supporting herself on top of you. The expression she wears leaves little room for misinterpretation; this one is yours.

Yeji begins riding you again. Slowly at first, letting herself grow accustomed to the sensation of being filled again. Then faster. Harder. Using your cock to fuck herself on. Taking charge once more. You happily allow her to have it. Glad to let the beautiful starlet do whatever the fuck she wants with your body. Relishing the fact that you're balls-deep inside of her and she loves every inch of you.

"I need it," Yeji whines, slamming herself down on top of you again and again, her soft ass smacking against your thighs repeatedly. Her hair billows wildly around her, sticking to her sweaty skin, flying every which way without rhyme or reason, driven mad by her insatiable desire to keep on going. She keeps saying things under her breath, nonsensical at best, unintelligible at worst.

But her efforts get results. As much as you want to prolong the moment forever, your body can only handle so much. Pleasure courses through your veins like electricity, setting alight every nerve ending within your body until finally, you feel that familiar heat rise from somewhere deep within.

Yeji must sense it because she suddenly kicks it up yet another notch, crying out incoherently as she drops down on your shaft once more, twice more—a third time sends you toppling over the edge. You grip her hips tight, digging your fingertips deep into her flesh as your cock pulses powerfully inside of her cunt, painting her walls white.

She drags it out. Uses gravity to force you as deep inside as possible, allowing every single drop to spill inside of her again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you grunt loudly. Any coherent thought becomes impossible as you cum.

Once more, it takes several moments before you come back down from the clouds. When reality sets in again, Yeji is still straddled atop your lap, watching you with an amused grin stretching from ear to ear. You're left with nothing else to do except admire how her flushed cheeks accentuate her gorgeous features even further.

"I know. I know," she says while stroking your cheek. "I'm amazing."

"You're trouble," you correct breathlessly.

She rolls her eyes at your choice of words and then glances downwards. You follow her gaze just in time to see her raise herself off your spent member, allowing several thick strands of cum to dribble from her cunt and onto your leg. You both share a brief laugh at how filthy it looks before Yeji clambers off you and steps away, leaving you completely bare whilst she reaches down to retrieve her panties.

"No," you blurt out immediately. Your interjection catches her attention and she halts mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"No?"

"You can leave them."

She gives you a knowing look but acquiesces anyway, stepping aside and grabbing her dress instead. "Disgusting," she winks with a coy smirk.

[helen-with-an-a]

 Operation Christmas Kiss

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Keira Walsh x Reader

Description: The team come up with a plan to get Keira and R to confess before Christmas

Word Count: 3k

“So, what’s everyone doing for Christmas?” Alexia asked, taking a sip from her drink.

You sat back, watching the others as they told you their Christmas plans. Naturally, your eyes lingered on Keira. Keira … the girl you had been in love with for well over half your life.

You couldn’t help but smile as she laughed at something Aitana had said, her eyes sparkling. You sighed despite yourself. Keira … the girl had been your first kiss all those years ago. ‘Practice … for when we’re older’ you had said. It had been the Christmas camp for the Young Lionesses, and everyone was swapping stories of their first kisses, first loves, first times. You were barely sixteen, but the peer pressure had been a lot. You had made up some bullshit about a girl at school. You had confessed the truth to Keira that night. She had just smiled at you and offered to kiss you. Simple and just like that. Nothing too fancy, nothing crazy, just a friendly gesture. You ignored the butterflies then and you had continued to ignore them. Every brush of her hand against your skin when you partner up, every lingering hug or gentle touch as you moved around your small flat in perfect harmony.

“What about you, chica?” Patri asked, nudging you back to the table.

“Oh um, nothing really.” You smiled, taking a bite from the snacks on the table.

“Nothing?” Mapí repeated.

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything. My parents are-”

You started to explain how you didn’t do anything special at Christmas. You never had. You parents had been forced to go to Church and do all the family stuff when they were growing up and they had hated every minute of it. When they finally branched out on their own, Christmas was just a normal day. Sure, you always had a few presents and a nicer meal, but it was never the spectacle that it was for everyone else. Your parents had agreed to fly over to Barcelona this Christmas, arguing that it was about time they had a hot holiday. The best flights they could get was Christmas Day, and that suited you just fine. They would land around midday, and you would spend a few days with them, relishing in the quiet as the rest of the world gorged themselves on overpriced, dry meat they had spent far too long slaving away over in the kitchen. And then your parents would be off again, arguing that they didn’t want to ruin your New Years’ plans and that they would much rather be lounging on a pool bed in Tenerife rather than you cramped flat anyways.

“Do you not want to spend Christmas with them?” Pina asked quietly, her voice a little nervous.

“No, it’s not like th-” You could see the looks people were sharing. The sad pitying looks that meant they thought you didn’t spend Christmas with your family for a very different reason.

“It’s okay, amiga. We understand,” Marta smiled kindly.

“It’s not-” you tried again. You loved your parents, and they loved you. You had no issue with them, and as far as you were aware, they had no issues with you. You knew some others around the table had had issues with their parents, especially when they were teens and trying to figure out their sexuality. But for you, it was never like that. You had never actually ‘come out’ to your parents. You had just brought a girl home when you first moved to Manchester and introduced them to your new girlfriend. No one had batted an eye.

“Vamos, chica, I need el baño and then we shall get another drink, sí?” Ona asked, standing up from her seat, extending her hand to you.

“Uhh, sure … ok…” You let yourself get dragged away by Ona, unable to catch Keira’s eye.

“Ok, we need to do something for la niña. She cannot spend Christmas alone.” Mapí started, her eyes narrowing as she came up with her plan.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to do anything for Christmas, kjære?”

“That is absoluta mierda, Princesa.” Mapí dismissed Ingrid with a wave of her hand. “Everyone wants to do something for Christmas.” Ingrid sighed, shaking her head. She knew her girlfriend, if Mapí had a plan, the plan would be happening regardless of what anyone else said.

It took maybe 10 minutes for a plan to be concocted. A plan that Keira was not too happy about. She had tried, she had tried so hard to get the team to see that there really was no issues, no larger problem at hand that led you to not really ‘doing’ Christmas. You always had been like that. She didn’t do traditional Christmas herself – her family opting for an Indian instead. A habit they had picked up from you. You were 13 when you met, 14 when she had begged her parents to let her spend the holidays with you, and 15 when you spent your first Christmas at the Walsh household.

Her parents had fussed and stressed over the catering for months, you had both watched them bring up Christmas when you visited every school holiday. It had been a throwaway comment really, a joke that you would be happy with an Indian for all you cared. You could see the look they gave you, a curious, intrigued look. ‘Christmas is about family, right? You don’t have to add the stress on top of it. If you want to do a roast, go ahead, but we just do whatever we fancy. Last year it was a roast because Kei was with us, but usually it’s something way more chilled. I think we had picky bits once’. The look on Mrs Walsh’s face was one that you would remember forever. The look of pure and utter relief that someone else had said it. That you had said it. From that Christmas on, there was no more burned potatoes or overcooked turkey. There was an Indian takeaway, dished up with more pride than any carving had ever received.

“Guys, honestly, she doesn’t wan-’

“No, Keira. She needs this.” Mapí wasn’t having any of it.

“She really doesn-” Keira tried again, looking to Lucy for help. Lucy grinned, smiling into her glass as she shrugged.

“Kei,” You shouted, oblivious to the conversation going on at the table. You staggered slightly, flopping heavily onto the ginger’s lap. “Come dance?” You asked, the blush on both of your cheeks having nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I don’t dance, y’know this.” Keira laughed slightly, her arm automatically cradling your waist.

“Please, Kei.” You pulled out your infamous puppy dog eyes, ones you knew she was irresistible to. “For me?” You pouted ever-so-slightly.

“Ugh, fine.” Keira rolled her eyes, unable to help the smile that spread across her lips as you squealed with joy. “The things I do for you,” She grumbled, allowing herself to be pulled across the floor.

“When are they going to realise, they’re head over heels for each other?” Alexia asked, watching you loop your arms around Keira’s neck as her fingers danced with the waistband of your jeans.

“Who?” Vicky asked, trying to follow Alexia’s line of sight.

“Keira and Y/N, estúpida” Pina supplied, pointed to where you and Keira were very much in your own little bubble. The group watched as Keira said something to you, and you dropped your head onto her neck, all sporting smiles as Keira’s fingers traced gentle lines on the sliver of bare skin on your back.

“At least you get a break,” Lucy commented, bringing her arm around Ona’s shoulder. “It was like this at City too, and at camp.”

“Oh god. Do you remember that time when Y/N did her hamstring, and she wasn’t on England camp? It was maybe a week and all I heard from her was ‘Kei this’ and ‘Kei that’.” Ellie chimed in, rolling her eyes at the memory.

You had torn your hamstring a week or so before you were supposed to go away on an England camp. The suddenness of it all had meant you were even more mopey than you would have been normally. Yes, you missed playing, and yes, you weren’t a fan on the rehab. But doing it without Keira to keep your spirits up was too much to handle. She had been by your side from the moment you had sat down on the grass, your face contorting in pain. She had been subbed off a few moments after you and followed you down the tunnel. Keira had driven you home and stayed the night, doting on you hand and foot, acting as you butler, driver and bodyguard until she had to leave for St George’s Park.

When Ellie had picked you up the next morning, you were a vision of sadness. Your hair was sloppily tied up, the blue circles under your eyes more noticeable than ever before. Ellie had taken note of the small 24 printed on both your hoodie and shorts for the whole week.

“God, Kei was no better. ‘I wonder what Y/N’s doing right now?’, ‘Has anyone heard from Y/N?’, ‘I better text her, make sure she’s doing okay’, ‘Oh, sorry I can’t hang out with you, I’m facetiming Y/N’. It was nauseating,” Lucy huffed, taking a swig of her drink.

“Ok, we get it, they’re in love and have been for ages, they just need to get a grip and kiss each other.” Kika laughed, watching her two new friends press themselves closer and closer.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Aitana asked.

“Oh, Kei. I’m so in love with you it hurts.” Patri joked, her eyelids fluttering as you drapped herself over Cata.

“Oh, Y/N/N, me too. I’m just too in my head to do anything about it.” Cata joined in.

“I’m thinking we change our plan. Operation Get Y/N and Keira to Kiss at Christmas is a go.” Mapí turned to the table, bringing out her phone to take notes.

“We may need to shorten the name.” Caro chimed in, a small smile on her face.

“What are they planning?” You asked Keira, your face millimetres from hers.

“They want you to celebrate Christmas.” Keira smiled as you groaned, your head dropping onto her shoulder.

“I am celebrating Christmas, Mum and Dad are flying out on Christmas day.”

“I know that. You know that. They just don’t know that’s how you do Christmas.” Keira pressed a sneaky kiss to your temple. “They want you to spend Christmas with someone, you rescued me before that bit got figured out.”

“No,” you whined. “I love my Christmas plans. A chilled Christmas and then a very fun New Years’ with you.” You couldn’t help the blush that rose on your cheeks when you thought of your New Years’ plans.

“I know you do,” Keira laughed quietly, her cheeks sporting a similar blush. “And it’ll be our first New Years’ together.” You rolled your eyes.

“Stop phrasing it like that. We’ve spent a million New Years’ together.” You complained, shuffling closer, relishing in the feeling of her fingers against your skin.

“No, we haven’t. We have spent 13 together. But this we’ll be our first one as more than just friends.” Keira whispered into your ear.

It was a new development for you and Keira. One that had taken far too long to happen, but over a snowy hot chocolate at the Munich Christmas market when you had flown out to see Georgia, it had happened. It wasn’t really anything epic, nothing like a fairytale. Keira had told you how beautiful you looked, eyes reflecting the lights of the market. You had blushed and told her you thought she looked pretty too. She had pushed some hair off your face, and you were just inches from each other and then suddenly her lips were on yours and you hadn’t looked back since.

You had told your family but beyond that, you were relishing in the privacy of it all. The stolen kisses and quiet declarations were adding to the magic of it all. You knew you needed to tell the team soon, but you were having too much fun watching them moan and groan at each other. You were more than happy to keep it between you to, a perfect little secret to be shared at just the right time.

It was the last home game before the break when Mapí’s plan was finally able to come to light. She had everything planned to perfection. Aitana and Kika were still out on the field with Keira. Ellie and Lucy were signing things for fans and keeping a close eye on you. Alexia was the organiser, the go-between to make sure you would be walking down the tunnel at the same time. Cata was waiting by the locker room door, making sure that no one would stand in the way. Mapí, Patri and Pina were all in the locker room, placing mistletoe at strategic locations across the room. One above the doorway, one above each of your lockers, one by the entrance to the showers and the last one tucked safely next to Mapí’s things, a fail-safe she could wave above you if Plan A, B, C and D fell through.

It was the Man City game, the team knew they had ample time to prepare with how long you and Keira would stay out on the pitch catching up with old friends, but that didn’t help with the nerves. Mapí had even bribed one of the coaches to help. When Alexia gave the signal, a painstakingly crafted but natural movement of taking off her Captain’s armband, the coach would drift over to you, telling your group they needed to come inside for cool down and stretches. At the same time, Carla would beckon Keira over for some media and you would both meet at the top end of the tunnel, ready to walk past the rest of the team and straight into the locker room. Vicky had been chosen to point out the mistletoe if you hadn’t spotted it already. It had originally been Ingrid but that was met with a raised eyebrow and a shake of her head.

“Kjære, are you su-”

“Sí, Ingrid, I am more than sure. It will be un milagro de Navidad.” Mapí waved her girlfriend away, her eyes fixed excitedly on the door.

“- it’ll be nice. I’m glad that Lani and the other Aussies will be able to get back home quickly.” You chatted away to Keira, a City shirt adorning your top half as you pushed your way into the locker room. Pina not-so-subtly came to stand in front of you, stopping you in the doorway.

“You played really well, Chicas.” Pina smiled unnaturally at you.

“Uh, thanks?” You said slowly, although it came out more like a question.

“Sí, muy buen juego” Patri added, her eyes also a bit too wide. You looked towards Keira and back again, you eyes taking in the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling.

“Oh, mira eso. You are standing under muérdago. Ellie, what is muérdago en Inglés?” Vicky called, her voice superficially high.

“Mistletoe, Vicky. It is Mistletoe in English.”

“Ahh, sí. Y/N and Keira are standing under mistletoe.” Vicky’s acting was appalling. You glanced up anyway, smiling at the small spring resting above your heads. “Is the tradition the same in England as it is in España?” Vicky held her hands out in a comical shrug.

“You mean, whoever is caught under the mistletoe has to kiss, otherwise it is bad luck?” Ellie added, her acting equally awful.

“Ah, so it is the same.”

You looked over to Mapí, who was vibrating like a kid about to open their most anticipated present.

“Be … so, be … so, beso, beso, beso” Mapí began to chant, her voice carrying across the room.

You looked to Keira, smiling at her as the small blush bloomed across her cheeks. You shrugged, as if saying ‘I’m down if you are’. She nodded shyly, a smile matching yours. You shuffled a little closer, your hand coming to rest on her cheek.

You leaned in, the world around you fading into the background. Her breath hitched as your faces drew closer, her gaze briefly dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. The moment stretched, charged with anticipation, until finally, your lips met in a tender, lingering kiss.

The room exploded with applause, whoops, and whistles. Mapí was the loudest, clapping her hands and shouting, “Eso es! Así se hace!”

As you pulled back, Keira’s shy smile had turned into a full-blown grin, her eyes sparkling with a mix of nerves and exhilaration. “Well,” she said, laughing softly, “guess we’re lucky now.”

“Guess we are.” You stuck your tongue out at her as you moved away to the bathroom.

“So, how was your first kiss with the girl you’ve been in love with since you were 13?” Lucy asked, nudging Keira with her elbow.

“Oh, that wasn’t our first kiss,” Keira smiled up at her friend, her cheeks still lightly stained with pink.

Lucy blinked. “N-not your first kiss?” She spluttered.

“Oh no, I was her first kiss when we were like 16? I think. It was a youth camp, and everyone was saying about their first kiss and she said she hadn’t had one so I kissed her.”

“J-just like that? You kissed her? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Why would I, Luce? It’s not that deep.” Keira laughed, enjoying the look on Lucy’s face.

“Not … not that deep?” Lucy screeched. “Kei, you’ve been in love with her since you were 13, I have had to listen to you both whine and whine about it all and you’ve already kissed her? Keira, what the fuck?”

“Language, Lucia.” Keira teased, bending over to gather her stuff for the shower.

“H-have you kissed her since you were 16?” Lucy asked, trying to wrap her head around what was going on.

“Of course she has,” You chimed in, kissing Keira swiftly on the cheek. “It would be weird not to kiss your girlfriend.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery: Christmas

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Cub

"We could get her another cat?"

"We're not getting her another cat!"

It's strangely difficult to find ideas for Christmas presents to give a little girl that's only obsessed with cats, the washing machine and baking.

Your mothers can't exactly buy you your own washing machine or an electric mixer or, god forbid, another massive cat for you to carry around and insist isn't fat, isn't a complete monster or isn't the absolutely worst enemy of your mothers.

One of those worst enemies, your incredibly fat tabby Garfield, sits on the kitchen counter attempting to bat open a box of cereal to feed his never ending hunger.

Mapi and Ingrid ignore him, knowing that sooner or later this burst of energy will leave and he will amble off to a sunspot so he can nap away the rest of the day.

"Mami!" A call comes from your bedroom. "I'm stuck again!"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "Just a minute, cub! I'm coming!" She turns back to Ingrid. "Definitely a no to the cat?"

Ingrid sighs. "No more cats."

"Just trying to make it easier on us!"

"Go and help our kid put on her t-shirt. I've got this."

But Ingrid very much doesn't have this. It shouldn't be this difficult to find a Christmas present for you but you're such a content kid. You've already got toys and the tv and the washing machine and the cats.

There's not really much else you want or need.

You're no help either, of course, because when Ingrid asks, you just reply with a simple:

"Er...I can get more time in yours and Mami's bed?"

So, it was very clear that you didn't quite know what you wanted for Christmas either apart from, clearly, curling up in Mapi and Ingrid's bed with them and probably kicking Mapi in her sleep.

Ingrid spends weeks stewing over what she and Mapi could get you. They'd gotten you a few throw away things like a new yellow digger after your last one fall off the balcony and smashed into the pavement below and a cute little necklace that doubled as identification with things like your name and had Mapi and Ingrid's numbers on them in case you ever went missing in a crowded area.

In the end, it's Frido that comes to her and Mapi's rescue, throwing out an idea at random during lunch when Aitana takes you up to the buffet to find some chicken.

It's a throwaway comment but with Mapi and Ingrid struggling to work out what else they could get you, they cling to it like a lifeline. They're fairly easy presents to source, something that Ingrid is glad for because she's cutting it abnormally close to Christmas day to get everything sorted.

"Mami..."

There's a crackle on the monitor that has Mapi stirring awake.

"Maaaami."

Mapi counts to ten in her mind before rolling out of bed, kissing a still sleeping Ingrid on the cheek and making her way out to your room.

"Merry Christmas, cub," She says as she pushes open your bedroom door," I see you've got company."

All of the cats seem to have migrated to your bed overnight.

Garfield, as usual, is laying on his back after (presumably) being used as a stuff animal for most of the night. Bagheera sits by your feet, grooming herself primly while the monstrous León-León stands nearby, tail flicking from side to side as he stares.

"We had Christmas cuddles," You say happily," And now we have the gingerbread?"

"We'll have to wait. Mama is still asleep."

"Why?"

"Huh? Why is Mama still asleep? She's tired."

"But why?"

"Because she was busy making sure everything was good for today."

"But why?"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "You know what, let's go eat that gingerbread. Then we'll go and get your Mama."

You wiggle happily all the way to the kitchen, where Mapi lifts you up onto the counter so you can have a breakfast of the gingerbread you and Ingrid made last night and so Mapi can stop you from running into their room before Ingrid is awake enough to function.

The cats come running in as soon as they hear the rattling of their dishes - though Garfield kind of lumbers in, far behind León-León and Bagheera but still manages to steal most of the food.

Mapi does a pretty good job of stopping you going for the presents until Ingrid finally gets up, a nice warm mug of coffee waiting for her and an overly excited child trying to shove some gingerbread into her mouth.

"Tha-Thanks, Cub," Ingrid laughs as she pushes away one of your sticky little hands from where it's trying to shove biscuit into her mouth," But I'm fine with my coffee."

"It's good," You say through your own full mouth and Ingrid laughs.

"I know because it was made by us, with lots of love." Ingrid kisses the tip of your nose. "But really you should eat it all yourself."

"Really?"

"Really-really," Ingrid insists and you giggle, kicking your feet happily as you finally settle on her lap, sprinkling gingerbread crumbs everywhere as you move.

Garfield, as he always does whenever there's food to spare, comes ambling over to eat them all up.

Usually, Ingrid would scold him but Mapi's coming over with presents and she decides that even the cats can get away with things they usually wouldn't today.

"Are you ready for presents?" Ingrid asks, bouncing her knee so you burst into a round of giggles.

"Presents!"

Mapi and Ingrid exchange triumphant looks as you tear open your presents.

Your new ID necklace is placed snugly around your neck immediately, ready for in case you get lost during the walk your mothers have planned later that day.

You take great delight in placing your new yellow digger with all of your other construction toys in the corner of the room next to your little wooden set of tools.

"Mama! Mami! It's CAT!"

It's truly a surprise how many CAT themed things the club has managed to make in such a short amount of time. It's even more surprising just how much stuff they can buy for so cheap a price with their team member discounts.

But, perhaps the most surprising of all is how much the club was willing to just straight up give to them in return for just a few pictures of you with CAT the mascot.

It's not shocking to the staff and fans alike who the biggest CAT fan is and, while you do regularly appear on Mapi and Ingrid's Instagrams, it's a rarer feat to see you featured on the team's.

But, with just three pictures of you with CAT and a very cute video of you nearly taking the mascot of their feet in an attempt to hug them, Mapi and Ingrid received a bundle of CAT merch in return.

"It is CAT," Mapi laughs," It's a t-shirt with CAT on it!"

"And a keyring! And a new mug!" Ingrid continues as you rip open your presents, getting more and more excited the more CAT things you see.

"CAT's my second best friend," You tell Mapi and Ingrid earnestly in the next hour as you all take a nice walk together through the park.

"Oh, yeah?" Mapi says," And who's your best friend?"

"You and Mama," You reply.

"Oh, cub," Ingrid coos," That's so swe-"

"And Bagheera and Garfield and León-León."

Mapi laughs. "There it is."

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Ultimate Distraction | LN4

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando, a new couple just a month into their relationship, are still exploring the exciting depths of their connection, both emotionally and physically. While visiting Lando’s apartment in Monaco, Y/N finds herself craving his attention late one night as he’s absorbed in a gaming session in the room next to his bedroom. Unable to resist her desire, she decides to surprise him by slipping under his desk.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 1.5k

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The soft glow of Lando’s gaming monitor cast shadows across the room, illuminating his focused expression as his fingers danced over the keyboard. He was in the zone, his racing game demanding every ounce of his attention. The hum of the PC and the occasional click of the mouse were the only sounds breaking the silence of the late Monaco night.

Y/n lay in bed just a room away, staring at the ceiling. He’s been at it for hours, she thought, her pulse quickening with a mix of frustration and desire. She had tried to distract herself, scrolling through her phone, reading a book, even attempting to sleep. But the memory of Lando’s hands on her skin, the way he whispered her name when they were alone together, kept pulling her back.

She shifted in bed, feeling the heat building between her thighs. I want him. The thought was insistent, almost maddening. She glanced at the clock—it was past midnight. And there he was, still glued to his PC, oblivious to the world outside his screen.

Enough waiting.

With a determined breath, Y/n slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly across the cool floor. She wore nothing but one of Lando’s oversized t-shirts, the fabric brushing against her thighs as she moved toward his room. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from nervousness, but from anticipation. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Lando didn’t notice her at first, too engrossed in his game. His headset blocked out any sound, his eyes locked on the monitor as he navigated a tricky corner on the virtual track. Y/n paused in the doorway, watching him for a moment. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, the faint scruff on his jaw, the way his lips twitched into a small smirk when he nailed a perfect drift—it all stirred something deep inside her.

He’s so hot when he’s focused like this.

Without a word, she dropped to her knees and crawled under his desk, the space cramped but manageable. Lando’s legs were bracketed by the chair, his jeans-clad thighs inches from her face. She could smell his cologne, subtle but intoxicating, mingling with the faint musk of his body. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the button of his jeans, her breath hitching when she felt the warmth radiating from him.

Lando froze mid-game, his hand hovering over the mouse. “What the—” he started, his voice muffled by the headset. He leaned back slightly, trying to peer under the desk. “Y/n? What are you doing?”

She looked up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief in the dim light. “Shh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to her lips. “Keep playing.”

“Wait, what?” he stammered, his voice higher than usual. But before he could protest further, Y/n undid his jeans and pulled them down just enough to free his hardening length. Her warm breath ghosted over his skin, and Lando’s breath hitched.

“Jesus, Y/n,” he muttered, his grip tightening on the edge of the desk. But instead of stopping her, he found himself unable to move, trapped between shock and arousal.

Y/n didn’t give him time to think. She leaned forward, her lips wrapping around him in one smooth motion. Lando let out a strangled groan, his head falling back against the chair. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking involuntarily.

But Y/n wasn’t done teasing him. She pulled back slowly, her tongue tracing the sensitive underside of his shaft before taking him into her mouth again, deeper this time. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in tandem with her mouth, each movement deliberate and unhurried.

“Y/n, I can’t—” Lando started, his voice strained. He fumbled for the headset, tugging it off and letting it dangle around his neck. “You’re going to make me lose.”

“Then don’t lose,” she murmured, her lips still pressed against him. She gazed up at him through her lashes, her eyes dark with desire. “Keep playing.”

Lando groaned, torn between the game and the woman currently driving him out of his mind. His hand hovered over the keyboard, unsure whether to keep going or surrender completely. But Y/n’s insistence was impossible to ignore. With a shaky breath, he turned his attention back to the screen, his fingers trembling slightly as they resumed their position.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. If anything, he sounded wrecked already.

Y/n smirked, her lips curving around him as she picked up the pace. Her tongue swirled around the tip, eliciting another sharp intake of breath from Lando. She could feel him struggling to focus, his movements on the keyboard growing sloppier with each passing second.

“Concentrate,” she teased, her voice low and sultry. “Unless you want to crash.”

Lando gritted his teeth, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the desk. “You’re making this fucking impossible,” he growled, though his resolve was clearly crumbling.

She hummed in response, the vibration sending a thrill through him. Her hand tightened around his shaft, her strokes becoming faster, more insistent. Lando’s breathing grew ragged, his concentration shattered as pleasure overwhelmed him.

“Y/n, I’m serious,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “If you don’t stop—”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she took him deeper, her throat relaxing to accommodate him. Lando swore under his breath, his hips bucking instinctively. The controller slipped from his grasp, clattering onto the desk as he reached for her hair, tangling his fingers in the strands.

“Fuck the game,” he muttered, his voice rough with need. But Y/n pulled back, her lips slick and swollen as she looked up at him with a mischievous grin.

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re not quitting. Not yet.”

She leaned forward again, this time flicking her tongue against the sensitive spot just beneath the head, eliciting a shuddering moan from Lando. Her hand moved in sync with her mouth, her strokes deliberate and slow, dragging him closer to the edge without letting him fall.

“Y/n,” he gasped, his free hand clutching at the armrest of his chair. “I can’t—you’re killing me.”

She ignored his plea, her focus entirely on him. Her lips sealed around him once more, her tongue swirling as she took him deeper, pushing herself further than before. Lando’s breath came in short, sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to maintain control.

On the screen, his car veered off the track, spinning out in a cloud of virtual dust. Lando didn’t even notice, too consumed by the sensations coursing through him. His fingers clenched in her hair, gently guiding her movements, urging her to take him even deeper.

“So good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “God, you’re so fucking good at this.”

Y/n responded by hollowing her cheeks, the suction intensifying as she increased the pressure. Her hand moved faster, matching the rhythm of her mouth, every stroke bringing him closer to the edge. She could feel him trembling beneath her, his thighs tense, his breath hitching with every pass of her tongue.

“Y/n, I’m close,” he warned, his voice strained. “Too close.”

But instead of pulling back, she doubled down, her mouth working him with relentless precision. Her other hand reached up to fondle him, her fingers grazing over sensitive flesh, pressing against him in just the right way. Lando’s grip on her hair tightened, his body tensing as pleasure coiled tightly in his core.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking upward, unable to hold back any longer. “Y/n, I—”

She didn’t let him finish. Her mouth enveloped him completely, swallowing him as he finally gave in to the overwhelming sensation, waves of pleasure crashing over him. His entire body stiffened, his release spilling into her waiting mouth, each pulse accompanied by a choked gasp from his lips.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound in the room Lando’s ragged breathing as he slumped back in his chair, utterly spent. Y/n pulled back slowly, her lips brushing against him one last time before she settled back on her heels, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“Told you,” she said softly, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “You didn’t have to stop playing.”

Lando stared at her, his chest still heaving, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. “You’re unbelievable,” he finally managed, his voice hoarse. He reached for her, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped her cheek. “Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes locking with his, before crawling out from under the desk and standing up. Lando wasted no time, pulling her into his lap and capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands roamed over her body, eager to return the favor, to show her just how much she affected him.

But Y/n pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss with a soft laugh. “Not yet,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest. “You still haven’t finished your race.”

He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, though there was no real malice in his tone.

She smirked, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Then consider me your favorite executioner.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

cozy - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 322

"Well...this is cozy," Sirius murmurs, taking another step into the room.

But Remus is internally panicking. One bed? For both of them? He isn't sure he can survive it.

"You look terrified, Moony," Sirius says with a small chuckle, grinning over at him. "We shared as kids, didn't we? I promise, I'm not the one that bites."

But Remus can't even laugh at the joke. Because to somehow survive the week sharing a bed with the boy he's been fantasizing about since he realized he was queer seems impossible. But what else can he say? "'Course," he laughs awkwardly, stepping into the room he and Sirius will share for the next week in the small cabin they've rented with their friends. He's just going to have to hide his feelings extra-well.

It goes swimmingly until he and Sirius are tucked in for the night.

"Remus?" Sirius whispers, turning to face him, his black hair splaying on the pillow like a halo.

"Hmm?" he responds, entire body buzzing with pent-up energy and desire.

"Remember...when we were kids? And we'd cuddle," Sirius murmurs, eyes wide. "When one of us was scared...or cold?"

"I-" of course he does.

"We could do that again. Nobody would know," the other man suggests, and Remus's chest almost explodes. "Just because I'm- a bit cold."

He can do this. He can pretend. "Sure," he mumbles pulling Sirius into his embrace.

And it's just like he remembers. The touch of soft hair against his cheek, the smell of mint and earth. Heart beating frantically, he tries to remind himself that this is purely for temperature reasons.

Until lips shake over his neck. "Sirius...what?" he mumbles, shivering at the contact, wanting desperately to pull him closer.

Sirius's voice is sad when he responds. "Let me...let me just pretend for a moment," he says, vulnerability leaking out of every word.

Pretend what?

"Alright," he sighs.

He falls asleep more confused than ever.

[starsinthesky5]

nothings gonna hurt you baby II part 2 || joe burrow x reader

description: loving what you do doesn’t always mean it loves you back—it takes more than it gives sometimes

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! oh my goodness i am so sorry this took so SO long to get out! i really hope this was worth the (painful) wait!. this is flashback heavy with smutty smut smut, angst, and adorable fluffy fluffiness 😍 as a reminder, this is after the week two loss against KC. (yeah, i know this took me like 3 months)

warnings: angst, language, SMUT. MDNI.

songs listened to while writing: sailor song : gigi perez, nothings gonna hurt you baby : cigarettes after sex, you’re the only good thing in my life : cigarettes after sex, sweet nothing : taylor swift, slow hands : niall horan, nasty : ariana grande, look after you : the fray, die for you - the weeknd, call it what you want : taylor swift, teenage dream : katy perry 

word count: 48 k (sorry. i know. im sorry)

NGHYB masterlist  ||  part 1 → (read FIRST as this is a continuation of it)

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeys-babe @joeyb1989 @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @majestic87

and a special thanks to @sofferaddict for a bunch of these ideas :)

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

“Hmph,” you mumbled as you jolted awake, a small gust of cold air slipping through the room, sending a chill down your spine. Your eyes quickly fluttered open at the sudden sensation, but the darkness that enveloped the room was thick, making it difficult for you to make anything out in the unlit room. 

You shifted slightly to shake off the grogginess, but all you could see was the glow of the alarm clock on the nightstand. You squinted at the time–3:21 a.m.–which made your stomach churn. You never woke up like this in the middle of the night; you were always a heavy sleeper. Nothing could wake you once you passed out cold–not glass shattering, not a fire, not a hurricane, and certainly not a cool breeze. It had been a mildly concerning yet adorable habit you had since college, a habit Joe discovered when one night, the fire alarms went off in his apartment building and you couldn’t be more unbothered while his building was at risk of burning down. 

Flashback to LSU

Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep. Beep-Beep.

“What the fuck?” Joe mumbled, flipping around in the shower as he wiped the water droplets off his face before slicking his hair back, his brows furrowing at the sudden & strange noise he heard.

Beep-Beep.

“The hell is that noise?” he said again while looking around the shower walls as if the noise was coming from inside of them, “Wait, do I have an alarm set?” he asked himself, then peeked out from the shower curtain to see if his phone was the source of the annoying beeping noise–which it wasn’t. 

BEEP-BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Why the fuck is it getting louder?” Joe grumbled as he let go of the curtain and turned the water off before stepping out of the shower in a hurry. He reached for his towel, carelessly wrapping it around his waist while the water dripped from his golden hair and trailed down his muscular back as he moved around in the bathroom to try to find the source of the sound that had disrupted his much-needed post-game shower. 

“Can I not shower in peace?” he complained as he looked aimlessly for the source of the sound in the vanity drawers, medicine cabinet, and even the air vent. “It’s not coming from in here…,” he said a few seconds later before his eyes met the door, then his brain wandered to what...or who was outside of the door. “Hm, she better not have burnt something in the kitchen,” he laughed to himself, imagining you in his kitchen, half naked & half asleep, accidentally setting off the smoke detector while trying to make a late-night snack. But before he could let his imagination wander off too much, the beeping grew louder and he was snapped back to the present. 

He swung the bathroom door open, fully prepared to get a whiff of burnt food at full force. But instead of a smell, the noise hit him with full force, and it was blaring through his entire apartment.  “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath as his eyes trailed up to the flashing red light coming from his ceiling, his heart dropping once he realized what was actually happening. 

There was a fire in his building. 

There was no burnt food in the kitchen. 

There was a fire. 

That was the fire alarm’s sound. 

His eyes then fell to his bed where you were curled up against his pillows, completely unbothered by the piercing alarm above you. A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, almost as if you were caught in a dream that was so intense and lively that your body’s alert system was asleep too.

“Unreal,” he muttered, shaking his head out of amusement. It wasn’t as if the alarm sound was coming from down the hall, it was right above you–yet you still managed to stay asleep. “She’s actually sleeping through this?” he chuckled while walking over to your side of his bed. He placed a hand on your arm, gently shaking you while using his other hand to move your hair out of your face, “Y/N? Baby?” he whispered softly. 

“…Mmm,” you hummed in your sleep as you dug your head into his pillow even further, still so caught in the dream you were having to realize Joe was crouched down beside you and his hand was on your arm.

“Lovey? Wake up?” he whispered again, his voice soft and tender, this time using the nickname that he knew made you melt into a pile of goo which usually resulted in a lazy smile or adorable eye bat–but this time didn’t. The only response Joe got was the calm rise and fall of your chest as you stayed in your deep slumber–and the realization of how deeply you were sleeping made his heart squeeze. He really didn’t want to wake you up; you were sound asleep, in his bed, in the comfort of his space, and he didn’t want to pull you from your dream-filled oasis like this. 

Joe let out a sigh before shaking his head, “I don’t want to scare her by waking her up too roughly. But how do I get her up? We need to get out before the building burns down, that’s if there even is a legit fire,” he thought to himself, glancing from your precious face to the flashing alarm above you. It could be a false alarm, but it could also be the real deal. He wasn’t going to risk it, especially because of you, so you both really needed to get going. Shaking you wasn’t doing anything, and saying your name clearly wasn’t cutting through the haze that had you wrapped up in your dreams. So what could he do?

After spending a few seconds thinking of ways to wake you without startling you, a gentle voice entered his head—primarily because he remembered the movie you made him watch last night back at your place. It was one of your all-time favorites, a classic fairytale with an enchanted sleep and a true love’s kiss breaking the spell. He teased you over and over for your choice, but you urged him to watch it with you, claiming it was the perfect comfort movie to watch with your one true love. 

“And from this slumber you shall wake, when true love's kiss, the spell shall break,” the voice in his head recited which happened to be your voice. 

“I am her one true love,” he shrugged as he thought over the silly line from the fairytale you were so cutely obsessed with. “Alright, let’s see if this fairytale logic actually works,” he then smiled as he looked at you for a few more seconds, your captivating beauty making the sound of the alarm fade into the background; you really were a real-life Sleeping Beauty. You were his Sleeping Beauty. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself, realizing that life had its own unique way of imitating art in the strangest moments. 

He leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours, feeling the warmth of your breath against him as he felt himself getting lost in your touch. 

Kissing you was something he could never get tired of. Joe wouldn’t hesitate to spend the entire day curled up in bed with you, cradling your face and dropping gentle, sometimes passionate, kisses on your lips if he was given the chance. He was like a needy baby whenever it came to kissing you–he always needed that bit of closeness and he just couldn’t get enough no matter how much you gave. Whenever this closeness was taken from him, he’d give you the same tempting pout and those puppy-dog eyes that made your heart melt. It was his way of saying that he needed you, that even the smallest distance between you two was too far for his liking. He was never like this with any of his previous girlfriends, there was just something so comforting and fulfilling about you, something that made him feel at home. And he wanted to feel at home all the damn time if he had the opportunity to. 

After holding the kiss for a few seconds, he gently pulled away with a smile and was met with the sight of your lashes fluttering—meaning it worked. “A true love’s kiss,” he smirked, brushing his thumb against your soft cheek, “I guess it does work every time,”. 

You moved around in his silk sheets for a few seconds, trying to chase the last bit of your dream before your eyes eventually fluttered open. The piercing sound of the alarm filled your ears and the sight of Joe crouched over you made your heart skip a beat. “Wha- What,” you whispered, your voice groggy and your brain still clouded from sleep. “Joey?” your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as you tried to understand what was happening.  

“Hey, baby,” he whispered gently, trying not to startle you. 

“What’s going on?” you whined, trying to rub the sleep away from your eyes as your head began pounding due to the alarm’s relentless beeping. 

He spoke softly, trying to keep you calm, “Hey, it’s okay, just wake up for me, alright? There’s a fire alarm going off and we need to get outta here,” he explained. 

Your once-sleepy eyes flashed with urgency at the mention of the word fire. “Fire? There’s a fire?” you shrieked in panic as you instantly sat up in the bed. The adrenaline hit you like a wave, washing away any lasting remnants of your sleep.   

“I don’t know for sure, but we need to get outside in case there is,” he said while he stepped back to give you room to stand up.

“O- Okay,” you nodded as you quickly slipped out from the covers and scrambled to slip your shoes on and fix your hair. 

After you got yourself together, he grabbed your hand and started leading you through his apartment, heading toward the door, but as he reached for the handle, you pulled him back. “Wait!” you shrieked, your grip tightening around his hand. 

“What?” he responded after flipping his head back to look at you. “What’s wrong?”. 

You gave him a quick look up and down, waiting to see if he would notice himself, but Joe always had a habit of being adorably clueless even in the most urgent moments. “You’re still in a towel, Joey,” you giggled, watching as his eyes widened and dropped down to his lower half, realizing he was indeed still in his towel. 

“Oh,” he blinked before looking back up at you like a deer caught in headlights, the thought of stepping out in front of everyone basically naked was mortifying for him, and the mental image of that made him want to die. “I just…Let me just-...,” he nervously stammered.  

“Yeah,” you nodded with a soft giggle before giving him a playful shove back to his room. “No girl needs to see my man naked–even if it’s partially–except for me,” you yelled, earning a playful smirk from him before he disappeared into his room. 

A few seconds later, he returned wearing his familiar purple LSU football shorts and a plain black shirt. “I wonder if everyone thinks we’re dead? We’re taking our sweet time which is completely defeating the purpose of that annoying ass alarm,” you chuckled as you turned around and reached for the door handle. But before you could open the door, you felt Joe grab your other hand and yank you back from the door. 

“Wait!” he shrieked, almost as loud as you did a few moments ago. 

“What?” you said, looking back at him with a concerned expression. 

Joe lowered his head, sending you a look as he raised his eyebrows, “You forgetting something?” he asked you, giving you a once over just like you did to him. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “No? I don’t think so?”. 

You watched as his eyes fell to your lower half, your eyes following his gaze and your confusion still evident. “I’m not letting you out there with no pants on,” he huffed, folding his arms over his chest with a determined look on his face. 

Once you realized what he was talking about, you shook your head and rolled your eyes at his silliness, “Joe, your shirt is like a dress on me and I have panties on,”. 

“Y/N…Nobody, and I mean nobody, needs to get a peek at what’s under your shirt other than me,” he shook his head, his tone and posture similar to one of a protective dad. 

“It’s not even windy,” you shot back. “I’m not gonna have a Marylin moment, trust me,”. 

He shook his head and placed his hands on your shoulders, flipping you around and playfully pushing you back towards his room as you did to him, “Put some sweats on, or no more me helping you shave your legs in the shower,” he whispered in your ear, his voice playful and full of teasing.

Your eyes widened, “You wouldn’t dare,” you gasped. 

“Oh, but I would,” he responded with a dangerous smirk, making the alarms go off in your head. Whenever Joe said he would do something, he always did it and this should be no different.  

Joe was the absolute perfect boyfriend, and nobody could ever come close to the standard he set for you. No ordinary guy would offer to help his girlfriend shave her legs, but the first time you and Joe showered together, he did. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you, especially because you always wanted to look perfect for him even though you knew he could care less about a few hairs on your leg. He knew how annoying it was for a girl to shave her legs–getting every spot without accidentally nicking herself–so he took it upon himself to help you out when he could. He was so gentle with you, so undeniably caring and sweet, always handling you like you were something as valuable as the koh-i-noor diamond. It’s the way he reached out to you with little acts of love that spoke louder than words. His words were already so powerful but his actions sealed the deal every time. You often wondered what you did to deserve him, someone who cared enough to make the smallest struggles feel a little lighter. 

“Okay, Okay,” you said while throwing your hands in the air and hurrying into his room to grab your sweatpants before he acted on his silly threat. “I am never going back to shaving my legs alone, mm mm,” you shook your head as you stumbled around to slip your sweats on, leaving Joe laughing in the hallway. Even though you were just talking about never going back to shaving your legs alone, that line had a deeper meaning in your heart. 

You didn’t want to go back to shaving alone, but you really just didn’t want to go back to anything in your life that was ‘Pre-Joe’.  

You thought your life before you met him was as good as it would get, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. You thought you were genuinely happy before you met him–comfortable with your post-breakup life, satisfied with your typical, redundant daily routine, pleased with how simple your life was. But when you met Joe, you saw that although simplicity and predictability were safe, the thrill was exciting. The thrill was worth living for.

Joe was the thrill you didn’t know you needed. 

The way he loved you–both physically and emotionally–was unlike anything you’d experienced before. When you first felt the effects of his love for you, you were shocked. He did things that you didn’t think were typical in a relationship. He took the time to learn what made you feel cared for, what made you laugh, and what made you feel adored in ways you never thought to ask for. He was attentive to the smallest details–things you never thought anyone would notice. He knew exactly how you liked to have your coffee with that specific splash of oat milk–-early on in your relationship during the ‘talking stage’ he would show up at your doorstep with your coffee from your favorite breakfast cafe so he could save you the trip and walk you to class. He’d also notice the way your nose scrunched when you tried to hide a laugh, the way you’d fidget with your birthstone ring when you got anxious, and the way you always needed a few extra moments of quiet, cuddling time with him before he had to leave you to go to practice (but to be honest, that was mostly for Joe. If you were clingy, he was clingier).

He took all the time in the world to understand not just your habits and tendencies, but also your beautiful heart. He learned what made you feel cared for–like how you preferred to be held tightly during a storm because you secretly were scared of thunder, or how you always liked to have a hand to squeeze during scary parts of a slasher movie you begged him to watch with you. He even memorized your laugh, knowing exactly what to do to bring it out–whether it was through his silly dance moves or sarcastic and sometimes suggestive comments he’d make during your late-night conversations. 

He treated this like it was something bigger than just a college relationship, he didn’t treat you like you were just his girlfriend, he treated you like you were his partner, his other half, his favorite person ever. He made you feel so secure, leaving absolutely no room for doubt in the relationship. You were the first person he wanted to tell about his day, the first one he thought of when something exciting happened for him, and the first person he’d go to when he just needed comfort after a rough game. He made you feel like you were worth every ounce of effort he put into your relationship, and that was a feeling you hadn’t known before. 

He’d spend the night with you even after a gruesome and exhausting practice or game, just because he wanted to spend time with you and it didn’t matter if he was tired or feeling upset. He’d leave you little notes around your apartment, each one filled with words that made your heart flutter (some of them even a little silly and corny because well, that was just Joe). It was those quiet moments between you as well–when he’d run his fingers through your hair when you felt stressed, or the way he would absentmindedly pull you closer at night in his sleep because he needed to feel you. He made you feel like you were an essential part of his life, and not just a chapter in it. He made you believe that love wasn’t just about being content; it was about finding someone who made the ordinary feel extraordinary.

He showed you that love wasn’t about grand gestures, it was about consistency. It was about those little, everyday actions that showed he was always thinking of you. And this was a feeling you hadn’t felt before with any other guy. A love that didn’t waver with time, but deepend. After getting a taste of what he had to offer, you just couldn’t go back to what life was like before you met him. He brought out a side of you that you didn’t even know existed. A version of yourself that laughed a little louder and lived a little bolder. And even though you had only been together for a short period, the way you felt about him was so intense. It felt like the connection you had with him was deeper than the usual of a new relationship, almost as if your souls already met in another lifetime and you were just catching up on lost time in this life. 

—

After finally getting yourself together, you ran back out to Joe, who gave you an energetic nod of approval. “Better?” you teased, rolling your eyes with a tiny smile.

“Much, Much better,” he grinned, making you chuckle before he reached for the door and finally swung it open. 

He stayed close behind you, one hand resting on your back as he led you through the hallway and to the fire escape stairs. “Thank god you’re not super high up. My slow ass would be long gone if I had to go down more than 3 flights of stairs,” you joked as he opened the door to the stairs.

Joe laughed softly as the two of you moved down the stairs, the echoes of your footsteps mixing with the distant alarm. “Mmm, I don’t think so. I’d be your knight in shining armor, just casually scooping you up and getting you out of danger without breaking a sweat,”.

You shot him a playful glance, “Yeah, I’d probably sleep through half of it too if you carried me. Wake up when it’s all over and ask what happened,”.

He grinned, giving your back a gentle pat as you reached the final set of stairs, “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind. You’re cuter than normal when you’re all sleepy like this,” he said, his voice warmer as he stole another glance at you, your drowsiness clear even in this chaotic moment.

You nudged him with your shoulder, “You just like having an excuse to show off those muscles,” you teased, but deep down, you knew how much you appreciated his instinct to protect you, even when things were shaky.

“Maaaybe,” he said while scratching the back of his neck, “But I think I love you point one percent more,” he teased, quickening his pace to reach the ground floor and swinging the door open just in time to avoid your playful swat at him.

“Joseph Lee!” you yelled, your voice a mix of playful annoyance and amusement as you swatted at his back, both of you stumbling out of the fire escape and into the lobby of his apartment building. 

He let out a laugh before placing his arm around your shoulder and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment, “Kidding. I love you 100% more than anything in the world, including my muscles,” he smiled. 

“Good. I don’t like sharing you or your love,” you nodded, pressing a warm kiss to his neck as you felt his grip around you tighten.

“You won’t have to, lovey. I’m all yours,” he said in a way that made your heart melt. It felt like you two were just in your own bubble, shielded from all the chaos around you as you relished the comfort and warmth that radiated off each of you. 

But that bubble quickly popped when a loud, familiar voice called out from across the lobby. “There y'all are!” Ja’marr yelled from the entrance of the apartment building, a smirk on his face as he took note of how wrapped up you two were in each other’s arms. “I thought you guys died or some shit,” he folded his arms and shook his head like a concerned older brother, clearly relieved but ready to tease the two of you.

Joe waved him off, rolling his eyes with a grin, “Nah, man, just taking our time. We had to have a dramatic exit, you know? Keep everyone on edge,” he said on the way to where Ja’marr was standing.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you leaned into Joe a little more, “Sorry for the scare. We just had a…uh, slight wardrobe malfunction,” you joked. 

“Mmm,” Joe said while tilting his head, “It was a little more than a wardrobe malfunction, babe,” his playful tone made you roll your eyes again.

Ja’marr shook his head while mumbling something to himself before speaking up, “Wardrobe malfunction? Oh, you guys weren’t like…you know…,” he trailed off, raising an eyebrow to drive his point home.

You and Joe stared at him in mutual confusion as you tried to make sense of what he was insinuating. Even though you were still a little sleepy, it clicked in your head a few seconds later, “Oh, no. God, no,” you chuckled, your body shaking with the force of your laughter. 

Joe looked between you and Ja’marr, clearly confused, “I’m lost,” he said, his eyebrows wrinkling as he watched the two of you giggle. 

“He thought we were too busy, you know…busy doing a little something-something to notice the alarm,” you smirked, nudging his side with your elbow. 

“...Oh,” Joe said while raising his eyebrows in realization. He leaned in closer to you as a grin rose on his face, “I mean. That probably would’ve happened after my shower. The alarm ruined our plans,” he sheepishly grinned. 

“Okayyyyy,” Ja’marr groaned, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “You two need to stop spending the night at each other’s places every day. Y'all too young to have children,”. 

“Hey, we do a lot more than just…uh…stay in bed all the time,” Joe laughed.

“Do we though?” you interrupted with a pat to his muscular chest. 

“You’re not helping,” Joe whispered in your ear with a smile before going back to his conversation with Ja’marr. “Anyyyway, Ms. Sleeping Beauty over here is mostly the reason why we took so long. She was legit sleeping through the entire thing and my fire alarm is right above my bed if that puts this into perspective,”. 

Ja’marr shook his head, his expression showing his disbelief and amusement all at once, “Man, I don’t know how y’all do it. Most people would be out the door in a heartbeat but you two over here in ya own little world,”

Joe just shrugged, giving you a quick and proud glance, “Guess we just roll that way, bro,”.

“Now y'all are lucky this was just a drill. Real fire and y'all was boutta be cooookeddd,” he ridiculed playfully before giving you two a wave as he walked backward to where the rest of the apartment tenets were gathered. 

“This was a drill,” you choked as you and Joe followed Ja’marr out to the parking lot where everyone was, your eyes moving up to Joe who was just as surprised as you. “What the fuck. I should’ve just stayed asleep,” you complained, remembering how comfortable and cozy you were just a few minutes ago. 

“I still don’t know how you were sleeping through that,” he smiled. “I’ve never seen someone so lost in their sleep that their alert system is completely off,”. 

“Welcome to my world,” you grinned. “That’s how I roll. I can sleep through just about anything and that annoying ass fire alarm being one of them. Quite literally nothing can wake me up in the middle of the night,”. 

“Remind me to set up an extra secure security system in the house we’ll eventually buy together in a couple years. If someone broke in, we’re goners,” he shook his head, the mention of living in a house…together…making your heart skip a beat. 

You paused for a few seconds to take in what he said and once you did, a warm feeling spread throughout your chest, “I got you,” you smiled, looking up at him with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes. He never failed to bring up his future with you whenever he could, and it was getting increasingly common as you two spent more and more time with one another. It was the way he’d mention all the little trips he wanted to go on with you with that adorable glimmer in his baby-blue eyes–that camping weekend already being planned out in his head ever since you old him you’d never been, or how he’d talk about how excited he was to have you on the sidelines for every NFL game he’d (hopefully) play in. Those little glimpses into his thoughts meant everything to you because they were a reminder that he saw a lifetime when he looked at you.

“Do you ever think about what our house will look like?” he asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I can just picture us decorating for Christmas and fighting over if the tree should be silver or green,”. 

“Um, it’ll be green…classic is better. Duh,” you couldn’t help but giggle, the warmth that bubbled inside your body because of him spreading even more. Your voice became softer as a shy smile crept onto your face, “But to answer your question���all the time. I think about it all the time,” you said, glancing away as you felt your cheeks heat up. Although the way he was looking at you right now made it impossible for you to stay away. You met his eyes again, this time seeing how soft, how delicate they were after you said, “I think about you, about our future, every morning when I open my eyes. And I think about you, about what our life could be like, every night when I turn out the lights,”. 

Joe paused for a second as his face became more serious with realization. Have you really thought about it? He thought about it all the time–what your life would be like together after all of this–but he never knew if you thought about it like he did. He oftentimes mentioned your future in your conversations and he usually was the one to bring it up, and you two hadn’t talked about it with full seriousness yet, even though in your hearts you both knew where you wanted this to go. He didn’t really know how you felt about it and that made him a little nervous, so you saying that was the best reassurance he could’ve gotten. “I love you. I love you like a lot a lot,” he smiled before leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, one that conveyed some of those special feelings he couldn’t put into words. 

You stuffed one of your hands into his dirty blonde curls, lightly scratching his scalp as you melted into his lips. A content sigh left him at your gentle touch, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned into you. “Mmm,” he hummed once he felt you suck on his top lip, but just before things could get too heated, the bubble around you two popped once again. 

“Get a room!” Ja’marr yelled from a few away, “Y’all can’t even last 20 minutes without sucking face, damn!” he laughed. 

You and Joe froze in the middle of your kiss for a few seconds, both your cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red than before. You pulled away, immediately hiding your face in Joe’s neck out of embarrassment. His hand instantly shifted to cradle the back of your head as his other snaked around your waist, his protective mannerisms like second nature. 

“You’re just jealous,” Joe shot back with a smirk, sticking his tongue out in a way that made him look more like a mischievous kid than a star quarterback. He enjoyed teasing him, knowing how much it would get under Ja’marr’s skin. “Don’t worry buddy, maybe one day you’ll find someone who can actually put up with you,” he jabbed as he felt you laugh against his skin.

Ja’marr rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he spoke up, “Yeah, well I’m pretty sure there’s a long line of girls waiting to sweep me off my feet..so be careful there, Burrow,” he said sarcastically, but with a hint of confidence. 

“Please, spare me with the bullshit Ja’marr. The only thing you’re sweeping off your feet is the dust on your fancy shoes since you never have an occasion to take them out. If there was a line, it would probably be full of girls trying to figure out how to escape after one dinner with you,” Joe teased. 

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Ja’marr said while waving Joe off. “Just wait till I find my perfect match. Then you’ll see who’s really got game ‘round here,”. 

Joe rolled his eyes, “I don’t need game, bud. I already found my perfect match and I know I’m set for life,” he said before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, making you smile and nuzzle your nose against his fragrant, freshly washed neck. Their playful banter always warmed your heart. It was always so natural between them, the kind of banter only the closest of friends could have. 

“Y'all make me sick. God damn he’s whipped for you, Y/N,” Ja’marr scoffed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he shook his head. Even though the sight of you two cuddled up and all over each other made him physically ill, he couldn’t help but be over the moon for his best friend. Seeing him so in love to the point where everything around him faded away was all he could have wanted for his best friend, and the fact that he fell in love with an amazing girl like you was even better. Joe deserved this, to be loved the way you love him, to be happy in the way you make him happy, to be seen in the way you see him. Ever since you came into Joe’s life, Ja'marr felt as if some of the heavy burdens that were weighing on Joe's shoulders had been lifted. It's like you came in, effortlessly took off some of his load, and lightened his spirits. He seems to be carrying less weight, moving more freely, and radiating more energy ever since you came into the picture.

“Anywayyy,” Joe said while turning his attention back to you, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what were you dreaming about earlier? I wanna know what made you so…like gone,” he chuckled after he pulled away, his hands still seated firmly on each side of your hip. 

“Hm, I think I was dreaming about our first date,” you laughed, trying to recollect the specifics of your dream. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Really? What about it?” he asked. 

“Oh, just feeling that amazing night over again. Specifically, the way you were so adorably nervous around me,” you blushed. “The way you were fidgeting with the napkin like that was going to save you from impending doom or something, or how you nervously locked in on the menu as if you were reading some sports magazine article about yourself. But I saw you sneaking looks at me,” you said as you leaned into him a little more. “Not so sneaky as you think you are,”. 

“I was trynna play it cool,” he shrugged as a smile spread across his face. “That was my first real date in a long time and I just wanted to impress you and not scare you off,”.

“Oh, you were sooooo cool,” you mocked, “The coolest man to ever be cool. Might have to start calling you Joe Cool now like they did Joe Montana,”.

“Okay, Okay,” Joe rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve done enough to deserve that nickname,”.

“Done enough…yet,” you mumbled under your breath, feeling a tug at your heart as if you already knew he was on his way there.

“Did you end up dreaming about what happened…after the date?” he asked, not hearing what you mumbled as he started to remember that night himself, the memory of it causing his heart rate to pick up. “Just ‘cause it was pretty hot and special in my opinion,”

You bit your bottom lip at the memory of what he was referring to; you could practically feel yourself going back to that amazing night just thinking about it. You were feeling the way he held you firmly below him, your leg nestled around his waist as his hand gripped your upper thigh with a firm yet gentle touch. You were feeling his hot breath against your cheek as he chanted your name over and over, almost as if he had forgotten every word in the English dictionary and your name was the only word he could remember. You were hearing him chant, “That’s it..that’s my girl..fuck, you’re taking me so well, Y/N”. You were smelling the thin layer of sweat that was coating both your bodies due to your frantic and needy movements. You were seeing his eyes darken with lust, with desire, for you and only you. You felt like you were touching and sliding your hands down his muscular arms and thick chest. You were feeling the way he was sending your body to heaven with each thrust, with each pump of his thick shaft. You were feeling how good he was making you feel all over again, especially in a way he had never before. His heated touch, his intense gaze, and the love-struck look on his face were burned into your memory, and you were feeling and seeing all three of these things from him right now. 

That’s how intense the memory was. That’s how intense what happened after the date was. What might happen as a result of this conversation might be just as intense, likely even more since you two had perfected the act since then by repeating it over, and over, and over. Ja’marr was right, you two really spent quite a bit of your time together in bed, usually with no clothes on and coated in sweat, amongst other things. 

“Sadly, you woke me up just before I could get to the good stuff,” you breathed out, your skin tingling from the heated memory.

“Damn-,” Joe shook his head before pausing as he glanced over at the group of people walking back into the building. “Oh, looks like we’re good to go back up,” he added before beginning to walk you both over.

Joe threw his arm around your shoulder as you spoke up, “Oh thank god. I need to go back to-,” you began to say before you felt Joe drop his head so his mouth was level with your ear, his hot breath pressing against the corner of your ear.

“Maybe after we go back up we can continue where your dream left off, ya know? Except this time you won’t have to fall asleep to feel that all over again. I can make it happen all over again. Bet this time I can make you scream twice as loud as you did the first time. Maybe even get you past your fear of hurting me and get you to leave some scratches on my back,” he whispered into your ear, his voice laced with fire and promise. 

You stared straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with him, as you two walked back into the building. Joe smirked above you because he knew your silence and lack of heated eye contact was because of his words. Your brain froze for a few seconds before you felt his hand move from your waist and down to your ass, giving it an ample squeeze. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as visions of what Joe was promising filled your mind, and boy was it delicious. Your once sleepy body was quickly filled with desire and passion, and you were now running on pure fire. The way he could completely change your mood and vibe was so impressive. It was so effortless. All he had to do was whisper a few things into your ear and touch you like that for you to lose all decency, modesty, and etiquette. 

You moved his arm off your shoulder, gripped his hand tightly, and started leading him urgently through the crowd of people in the lobby, your pace was fast and needy. You didn’t care that you were bumping into the other apartment tenets, all you could think about was Joe and his big…warm-. 

“Woahh, slow down,” he laughed behind you, amused at how easily he could get you like this–all needy and heated, “You’re moving like your hair’s on fire or something,”. 

You glanced back at him with your bottom lip between your teeth, “My hair isn’t, but my body is,” you admitted, the fire behind your eyes sparking something inside both of you. “I don’t think I’m going back to sleep anytime soon. That fire alarm might’ve just been the best thing to happen to me…maybe even you…all day,” you said with a look that made his heart skip a beat…maybe even two beats.

“Really?” he said with a cocky grin.

You gave his hand three gentle squeezes before glancing back at him again, both of you flashing those bedroom eyes at each other. The bedroom eyes were usually his thing, but after spending so much time with him, you picked up on a few things. He was rubbing off on you, and he fucking loved that. “I think we’re going to set it off for real this time,” he winked. 

End of Flashback 

So what made you wake up? You could sleep through a blaring siren but not through whatever made you wake up now. The breeze wasn’t the explanation, was it? It couldn’t have been something so simple…right?

And it didn’t help that the air around you felt strangely empty too. Something wasn’t right but you weren’t sure what it was and it felt like something was missing, the lack of that something being the reason why your body woke you up. This strange feeling was gnawing at you, refusing to let you slip back into slumber.

You rubbed your eyes again, this time feeling the puffiness around your eyelids, a sad reminder of the way you fell asleep, and a reminder of everything that unfolded a few miserable hours ago. The heaviness was still in your chest, the tight knot of emotion hadn’t loosened yet and flashes of earlier moments filled your mind; the high-intensity moments of the game, the comments from the fans, and everything Joe unloaded on you once he got home. 

“Wait,” you whispered. That’s when you noticed the absence of warmth–his warmth. Just a few hours ago, you had your full-time human teddy bear and part-time football player wrapped around you, his arms holding you tightly as if he never wanted to and couldn’t let go. But now, all that was left was a blanket partially tangled around your cold, lonesome body. 

“He must’ve moved over,” you whispered, your voice heavy with sleep as you turned your head to look over to his spot next to you. You were expecting to find him sprawled out beside you because he’d done that before–fall asleep on your chest and somehow end up next to you once he woke up–but to your surprise, his spot was empty. 

Except for his…t-shirt?

You reached out, scrunching up the soft fabric of his worn-out Fiesta Bowl shirt in your hands, “Where did he go?” you thought to yourself as you felt a twinge of anxiety in your body. You blinked a few more times to adjust to the darkness before shooting up from the bed, “Joe?” you called out as you looked around the room–no response. 

“Is he in the bathroom?” you whispered as you looked over, but there was no light coming from there and the door was wide open so he clearly wasn’t inside. It was uncharacteristic of him to get up like this in the middle of the night, especially because he valued his sleep so much during the season. 

You slipped out of the bed, planting each foot firmly on the floor and pausing for a few seconds to ground yourself before walking into the closet to see if he was in there, which he wasn’t. You even walked into the bathroom to check again even though you knew it was empty. 

“Where did he go?” you asked yourself again as you felt a pit in your stomach form, “Maybe his office?” you wondered as you peeked out into the hallway, but saw there was no light coming from any of the rooms, including his office.  

“Joe?” you called out as you stepped out of your bedroom, his shirt in your hand as you waddled down the hallway, your eyes scanning every room and every corner to see if you could find him. 

Your footsteps echoed through your quiet home as you searched for him, the shuffling of your feet mixed with the darkness around you almost enough to scare you back into bed. You weren’t really afraid of the dark, but you just hated being alone…hated being away from Joe.

You were letting your mind come up with any excuse for his absence even though you knew everything you came up with was so unlike him. Thinking he was in his office, grabbing a late-night snack downstairs, on the phone with someone important, or out in the backyard for some reason, was pointless because that wasn’t Joe. You wanted to think that he just got up for a simpler reason, but deep down, you felt like you knew exactly where he was. 

And your suspicions were proven to be true once you made your way downstairs.

“It’s bad if he’s in there…especially right now,” you sighed to yourself after you made your way through the first floor of the house, now leaning against the kitchen island as you stared at the door next to the garage, a soft glow of light coming from inside the room. “I guess what I said didn’t help him as much as I thought it would,” you said out loud, your voice faltering as you felt a familiar wave of sadness come over you. 

You took a deep breath before pushing back from the island and walking towards the room he was in. “I really thought I got through to him a little bit. But I didn’t. I should have, but I couldn’t.” you thought to yourself as you gently pushed the door open, feeling absolutely gutted that he was in there…in the gym. 

When you walked into the home gym, you were met with total silence. Well, other than the shuffling sounds of the treadmill Joe was running on. Normally you’d walk into the pumping bass of his music playing over the speakers, but this time it was pure silence. Maybe it being 3 in the morning had something to do with that, but it still felt weird being in total silence. 

You looked up and saw Joe running on the sleek black treadmill, his broad, tan, muscular back glistening under the warm light of the gym. He was shirtless, obviously, only clad in workout shorts and shoes. His strong legs were powering through each stride as he stared straight ahead with focus, his Bose earbuds in his ears blocking out any and all noise. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he was lost in thought, pushing himself harder than usual. 

“Fuck..,” you mumbled under your breath, a sense of realization washing over you as you gripped his shirt tighter in your hands. You really wanted to be wrong about finding him in here at this hour of the night, but you always had the worst luck. 

Normally, you wouldn’t be fazed about finding Joe in the home gym, it was one of his favorite places in the house. He loved getting a quick workout whenever he could, especially in a place that was his own. But this was more than just him getting a quick workout in, not just because it was the middle of the night. He didn’t do this too often, but whenever he did, it triggered the alarms in your brain. Running on the treadmill in the middle of the night was only done when he needed to clear his head and nothing worked, not even talking to you (so this was rare). It was his last resort, which meant that whatever was weighing on him was so heavy that even you couldn’t lift it off his shoulders. He felt like running calmed his soul, cleared his head, and helped him get away from his problems. And it did. But only temporarily–like a bandaid instead of a stitch. 

You let out a sigh as you stood there for a few seconds just watching him run, hoping and silently praying he’d turn around and notice you, but he didn’t. 

Some nights when he did this, he noticed you instantly and unknowingly allowed you to coax him back to bed. He wasn’t trying to, but when he looked at you, he had this small pout on his face and this glint in his eyes like he did when he was a baby. Both then and now, that pout meant that he was silently begging for someone to help him and get him out of a zone that caused him discomfort. When he was little, it was to get him out of a zone filled with chaos and high energy that was sometimes too much for a baby to handle, sometimes he just needed nap time. Now, it was to get him out of a darker zone; a zone where he was surrounded by his most destructive thoughts, thoughts that he couldn’t push away. Sometimes, he just needed you.

Luckily for him, you’d always be there to pull him back from the maze of mirrors he found himself in. A maze of mirrors where each frame reflected the worst qualities about himself; his self-doubt, his anxiety, his insecurities. Each glass distorted his image until it became unrecognizable. But you were always there, ready to throw a curtain over the mirror before he got lost in the warped reflections. 

But other nights, nights like these, he was so lost in his head–in that maze of wretched mirrors–to the point where everything around him faded away; only two things could make that happen. 

One was you.

And the other was his deepest, most critical thoughts. 

It should’ve only been you because you made things fade away for a good reason. But tonight, it seemed like he couldn’t block out those stubborn voices and those versions of himself he hated, no matter how much he wanted to. They filled his mind, dimming any and all peaceful thoughts he wanted to cling to. 

You closed your eyes for a second, then took a few deep breaths before glancing back to the workout equipment behind you, “Guess I’ll just wait here,” you muttered, walking backward and plopping down on one of the workout benches. You really didn’t want to leave him alone right now, even though you knew he came in here to be by himself. “I can wait for him,” you said, trying to reassure yourself that you had it in you to wait here. 

You also couldn’t help but blame yourself for his current state as your mind started to spiral again. Yeah, this was a bad loss and that was enough to make him upset. But everything that happened with you was what pushed him over the edge. He was hurting, still hurting, and you could tell. He was hurting because he felt like he hurt you, and you were hurting because you felt like you hurt him. 

Funny, isn’t it? How two people, so deeply and madly in love, can feel so much pain even in their carefully built protective bubble? Each of you thought you were the reason for this mess, but the real culprits hid in the shadows just beyond your reach. They were like silent intruders, slipping through the tiny cracks when neither of you was looking. And here you were, blaming yourselves for a pain that neither of you brought onto yourselves. 

—

You don’t know how long you had been sitting on that black workout bench, watching him run and run and run on that treadmill. But you knew it was long enough because of the little moments where you saw him slow himself down, almost because he was tired. But you also saw him shake his head and then continue to power through each stride on the workout machine. He was exhausted, but he wouldn’t let himself admit it. 

Every few minutes, you’d say his name, hoping to get him to glance over at you so he could give you the chance to ease him back to bed. “Joe? Joey, please. Come back to bed,” you mumbled, your voice so tired and heavy as you watched him run, and run, and run. 

But he wouldn’t even flinch, let alone glance back at you. 

“Baby, it’s late. C’mon,”. 

“Joey, I know it’s hard but you can’t expect this to make it better,”. 

“Joe? Hey? Are you okay?”. 

“J, please? We can talk about it upstairs. Just come back with me?”.

But nothing. Nothing each time you said something. Just. Total. Silence. 

You were starting to get a little aggravated, not because he wouldn’t budge, but because he wouldn’t look back at you. “Is he ignoring me? Or does he genuinely not feel me behind him?”  you asked yourself as you swayed your head to the side to get a good peek at him. His music could only be so loud, it’s not like his headphones were blocking his eyes. 

You let out a deep sigh and groaned as your eyes scanned the room in search of something that could get his attention off of running. You saw that there was a yoga ball, a few tennis balls, and some weights in your reach. “I just want his attention. I’m not trying to hurt him,” you laughed in your head before playing with his shirt in your hands without realizing. 

But when you did realize that you still had his shirt in your hands, you were scrunching it up into a ball and throwing the fabric at the back of his head in a matter of seconds. “Bullseye!” you smiled to yourself as the shirt directly hit the intended target, “If he saw that throw, he’d be proud,”.

You watched his body flinch after he felt the fabric being thrown at him, the jumpscare a little too much for him because he quickly hit the stop button and flipped around. “Finally,” you grinned as you crossed your arms and waited for him to meet your eyes.

Joe turned around with a semi-startled look on his face, almost enough to make you feel guilty for scaring him since you knew how much he hated being spooked like that. “What the hell?” he panted, his hand moving up to take out his earbud. His breathing seemed to steady out once he realized it was just you, “Y/N? What the hell...are you...are you...doing in here?” he huffed while licking his lips. His face was coated with a generous amount of sweat which made his skin sparkle even more. God, he looked so good. 

“And good morning to you too,” you yawned, getting up from the bench and stretching your limbs.  

Joe sighed, “Y/N…it’s late. Go to sleep,” while threading his fingers through his damp hair, then using his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

“Joe, it’s late. Let’s go to sleep,” you smiled back as you mimicked his tone, tugging on the sleeves of your sweatshirt to feel a comfortable warmth that was similar to the warmth your bed offered. 

He rolled his eyes, his frustration and sadness clearly speaking for him based on the look in his eyes and his stiff body language. “Stop being difficult and just go back to sleep. I’m fine,” he spat out, flipping back around and hitting the start button on the treadmill again. His words felt like a punch to the gut, and he knew that very well because of the immediate regret that filled his tired body. “Why the hell did I say that to her? What’s wrong with me?”. 

You felt your heart sink, the weight of his words settling heavily on your chest. You watched him tense up, his fingers flexing and releasing at his sides out of internal frustration and confusion. “Lying to my face yet again? Come on, Joe. I thought we moved past the shutting me out phase. You promised,” you thought to yourself, anxiously playing with the blue topaz birthstone, his birthstone, necklace around your neck as you felt the tension in the room.

You know he’s pushing you away again, but you refuse to back down because you know in your head he needs you more than anything. He was building that hard shell again, fragile but stubborn, shielding him from you in a way you knew he thought was protective. 

You walked over to him slowly, “Joe, it’s been a long day,” you breathed out. “You’re tired, rightfully so. And I’m tired too. Why don’t we just go back to bed and figure this out tomorrow? You’ve had a really shitty night and I think sleep is best for you right now,”. 

He didn’t respond, didn’t even glance back at you. All you heard was just the quiet hum of the treadmill as you watched him continue to run. But you knew he heard you since his headphones weren’t in his ears, and his extra tense back muscles gave away more than he intended. 

“It’s not good for you to put this much pressure on yourself, baby. You’ve had a long day, a long week. You need to relax,” you added, taking two more steps forward. 

Still nothing. 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, your palms feeling clammy because you could feel his stress and tension radiating off him and melting into your body. “He’s not budging. This always works…why is it not working?” the thoughts in your brain were loud, banging from wall to wall and making your head spin. 

“Alright,” you mumbled, shaking your head to push away those agonizing thoughts, “Guess he wants to do this the hard way,” moving closer to Joe and walking around the treadmill so you were standing in front of him. Your eyes slowly move up his chiseled chest as you took in his appearance, the way sweat clung to his muscular frame made his chest glisten in the glow of the room. You felt a rush of heat pool in your belly–seeing him like this always left you a little weak. “Oh, come on,” you thought while shaking your head to push away those types of thoughts.

You moved your eyes up, meeting his icy baby blues which somehow seemed cold yet burned with anger. There was no relief there, just a sharpness that made your heartache. The tension in his body matched the intensity in his eyes, his muscles were taut with the same pressure. He was seconds away from exploding if you made the wrong move, you knew you needed to handle him gently. 

“Joe…,” you said softly, placing a hand on each side of the treadmill screen to catch his attention, which worked. You saw his eyes peek down at your hands, his pace slightly slowing as he met your eyes again. “Stop running, Joe,” you pleaded, your voice gentle but firm, urging him to hear you out and not push himself away. 

His eyes were locked in on yours for a few seconds, his softening gaze nearly made it feel as if he was trying to hand himself over to you. It felt like he was ready to give in, but then, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, his finger inched up the screen and tapped the button to increase the speed. The little chime echoed between you both, and in that moment, it felt like the wall fell back down.

“Is he messing with me?” you thought to yourself as your grip on the screen became tighter. 

The fact that he had been disregarding your wishes for what felt like an hour was bothering you way more than it should have. You knew why he was behaving like this, understanding where this dismissive attitude was coming from, but you couldn’t help but feel angry at the way he was acting with you right now. 

You let out a drained sigh, your shoulders slumping as you slowly release your grip on the screen. His eyes never left you as he watched you stare down at your feet, feeling utterly helpless and small. You tried everything, said everything, but nothing seemed to stick with him. There was nothing more you felt like you could say or do, and the ache in your heart grew once you realized that. 

But as you stared down at your manicured toes, you remembered a somewhat similar moment from a few months ago where the roles were reversed. Joe wasn’t the only one who got like this when something went wrong in his work life. You did too.

A few months ago, you had been working on a crucial, tedious, and time-consuming project for work. You knew this was your shot–the one that would prove your worth, the one that could bag you that promotion you’d been eyeing for so long. Every detail had to be perfect; you were putting in long hours and pushing yourself way beyond your threshold. Just when things felt like they were finally coming together, when you were about to hand it all in, it all came crashing down. One small mistake, one missed deadline, or maybe a combination of both, and the project was a failure. Your heart sank and you could feel the weight of the loss pushing down on you, knowing you had worked so hard for nothing. It was a blow to your confidence, and for a moment, it felt like all that effort had been useless. 

You came home that night with the most defeated look on your face, feeling like an absolute disappointment. All you wanted to do was cry, lock yourself in the bedroom for a week, and wallow in sadness. And you would have done that–if it weren’t for him. The man who promised to wipe away your tears for as long as he could, your Joey. 

He spent the whole evening being there for you in the smallest yet most thoughtful ways. Each time your eyes pooled with ears, he was ready. He plucked a tissue from the box and held it to your nose, murmuring gentle reminders for you to blow. He refilled your glass with ice water each hour because he knew how chewing on the cubes somehow cooled your face down, a comforting ritual of yours after crying that he had memorized. Each time a tear formed in your eye, his thumb was right there before it had the chance to make it down your cheek. He sat with you, promising that mistakes like this happened more than you realized. He offered to talk to your boss and take on whatever came his way as long as he could lighten the burden on your shoulders. But most importantly, he held you close and the quiet reassurance, the gentleness of his touch, and the sweetness of his words reminded you how deeply he loved you and how he’d be right by your side no matter what.

But nothing he was saying really stuck with you, just like how nothing you said stuck with him right now. But Joe didn’t give up once he realized his words weren’t doing anything. Instead, he got an idea–a more Joe-like idea–to get you to relax which involved releasing some…pent-up tension in your body.

So then as you stared at your manicured toes while laying on the bed with him, your mind wandering to all the different scenarios that would play out when you went back to work, you suddenly felt his soft, pillowy lips press slow, wet kisses down your neck. His lips trailed down your arm while his warm hand lifted your shirt and pressed against your bare skin, then his lips moved to your hips and belly. Each kiss caused your stomach to flutter from excitement and your brain to become clouded with only thoughts of him. And the next thing you knew, his head was stuck between your legs, his large hands gripping your thighs and holding them open, his cold nose rubbing against your clit, and your back arching off the bed as his name repeatedly fell from your lips. 

Work was the last thing on your mind after that. 

So maybe it was time to use reverse psychology? 

Screw gentle. 

If he could get you to relax by grabbing your attention that way, maybe you could do the same? It was uncharacteristic of you to use sex as a way to distract him, but it was worth a shot. You just needed him to get off of the treadmill and somehow tire him out enough to pass out as soon as he hit the pillow. This…might just work? No, it definitely will work. Joe couldn’t resist the temptation when given the chance. No way would he be able to hold back from this.

“Joe’s hormones, don’t fail me now,” you thought to yourself as you looked back up, your hand reaching down to grasp the hem of your crewneck sweatshirt, lifting it just enough for him to catch a peek of what was underneath–or more accurately, what wasn’t. You pulled the fabric up slowly, revealing your bare thighs and the lacy purple panties that he could never resist, the ones that always drove him mad no matter the mood he was in. You saw his eyes flash, breaking away from the stare he’d been giving the treadmill screen. 

This was perfect. 

“Joe,” you said, a playful tone lacing your words. “Why don’t you come back to bed with me?” you finished, your sweatshirt now fully off as you threw it to the side, your bare chest now on display for him. The cool air drifting through the room felt like a kiss to your bare body, but the heat in his gaze burned hotter than anything the cold could offer; it was enough to make your knees tremble. 

His eyes widened at the display in front of him, and for a split second, you saw a crack in the wall between you. He gripped the sidebar tightly, his knuckles turning white as he steadied himself, nearly stumbling over his own feet. You knew your little stunt had hit a nerve…the perfect nerve. 

“Careful,” you teased, your voice dripping with need. “I’d hate for you to trip, baby,”. 

His eyebrow shot up, a mix of surprise and desire on his face. His jaw clenched, the tension in his body palpable as his cheeks flushed to the same color as the mark on your collarbone he would love to leave in heated moments like these.

Ohhh yeah. You hit the nerve. Bullseye. 

“What’re..you doing,” he said, his voice dipping down as he saw you reach up to untie your messy bun, your soft, silky hair falling down your bare back like a mystical waterfall. 

You let out a low chuckle, “Getting you to stop running, duh,” as you gave his body another slow once-over, and this time, he noticed it.

The look you were giving him, mimicking the same bedroom eyes he’d often give you, made his body react instantly. The tension between you turned to electricity, and he could feel the growing heat in his shorts, the tent tightening with every passing second. 

“Y- you’re unbelievable,” he scoffed, shaking his head as a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips. But instead of stepping down, he tapped the speed button again and went back to looking ahead, refocusing on his run as if he were trying to shake off the effect you were having on him.

“Nope, juuuuust relentless,” you winked.

The heat between you both was hard to deny and you could tell he was slowly cracking with the way his face would scrunch up when he ran a little too fast. The hardness growing in his boxers made it incredibly uncomfortable to run and you were enjoying every second of him pretending like he wasn’t bothered by it. The stiffness straining against his shorts was practically begging for the attention you were offering, despite how hard he was trying to keep it under control. 

You stood there in front of him, letting your eyes wander up and down his body with purpose, occasionally turning around so he could get a view of your bare back and the curve of your hips, just doing whatever you could to break his front. The sounds of his small, frustrated groans and his breath hitching told you that you were hitting your mark. One specific thing you did really got to him though. You leaned forward, resting your arms on top of the treadmill screen so that your chest was fully visible, your breasts dangling right in front of him. You could feel his restraint slipping, piece by piece. His sharp intake of breath and the way his eyes darkened once he looked at you confirmed it. You had him right where you wanted.

“Y/N, stop,” he snapped, his gaze dropping to your pretty pink lips which he desperately needed to feel everywhere. 

“Make me,” you challenged, batting your eyes at him in mockery. 

“If you’re soooo horny, go upstairs and take care of it yourself. It’s not like you haven’t before when I’m not here,” he sneered, the twinkle in your eyes letting him know exactly what you were up to. “Just do whatever and leave me alone,”. 

Those three words felt like a fastball to the face. No way was he on this again, not after the conversations you two had the past week. “Oh hell no.” you thought to yourself, feeling even more irritated by his behavior because he was acting the same way he did after the game last week. You weren’t going to let him push you away this time, not after everything you’ve helped him through. 

But maybe, just maybe pushing his buttons was the answer? You knew how Joe operated all too well; when he got heated, the wall he built crumbled fast and he’d be too focused on that fire. If you could light that fire just enough, maybe he’d finally let go. “Oh, I’m going to hell for this,” you mumbled under your breath, bracing yourself for the words that were about to fall from your mouth. “Here we go again with the ‘leave me alone’ act,” you groaned, seeming more pissed than you actually were in order to make him mad. “Joe, I love you. But please stop with the bullshit because it’s giving me whiplash,”. 

“What bullshit?” he questioned, his brows furrowing in offense. He was slightly taken aback by the tone of your voice–usually playful but now rough. It was laced with a kind of frustration even he couldn’t ignore. 

“You know what I’m talking about,” you rolled your eyes, leaning back so that your entire body was in his view again. “It’s the middle of the night and I’ve been in here for the past hour trying to help you out of this funk but you just won’t quit it with this bullshit,”. 

Joe’s gaze sharpened, “Again, what bullshit.” his lips pressed into a thin line. 

You let out a snarky laugh, “This whole ‘leave me alone’ bullshit, the ‘i’m fine’ bullshit. You’re not fine Joe and it’s okay to admit that. Saying you’re not fine doesn’t make you any less of a man, trust me,”. 

“You better watch what you say, Y/N,” he quickly retorted, raising an eyebrow at your arrogance. His voice dripped with warning and intrigue, he was warning you to watch your mouth but he was just as curious to hear what you had to say. 

“Or what? Or what, Joe?” you snapped back. “I’m so sick of seeing you act like this; being dismissive doesn’t fucking solve anything. And you know what else? I am so sick of you acting like this with me. Just hours ago you were stuck to me like glue and now it’s like you’re avoiding me like the plague. I’m also so sick of getting hundreds of messages asking how you’re doing. What the hell am I supposed to say to them? ‘I don’t know how my own boyfriend is doing because he refuses to tell me and acts like I’m not here?’ Spare me the embarrassment, Joe. I can’t deal with these funks where you’re all over me, confiding in me and then hours later you’re acting like I’m a piece of gum stuck to your shoe that won’t go away,”.

“You know, I didn’t ask you to come in here,” he interjected, continuing to run on the treadmill at full force, his words shaky as he was trying to catch his breath. His eyes trailed up and down your body, and even in this tense moment, he was captivated by your raw beauty. You looked angelic in this light, even though you had just woken up and had a rough evening prior. Your hair was slightly messy, but messy in a way that he adored. The soft light of the room gave you an ethereal glow which made it hard for him to look away. And your face…oh, your face. The softness, and the gentle curve of your full lips both made him feel an ache deep within his heart. All he wanted to do was pull you to his lips and never stop kissing you, despite feeling aggravated by your words. “I didn’t ask you to care, Y/N,”. 

You tipped your head back in frustration, but reminding yourself that you needed to keep your cool with him or this would turn into a screaming match too fast. You closed your eyes and took another deep breath, “Yikes. Okay, maybe I’m pushing his buttons a little too hard. Deep breaths, Y/N,”. 

“You don’t need to ask me, Joe,” you replied once you opened them, your words much softer now that you eased up. “We’re like magnets, Joey. I go where you go and you go where I go…we’ve always been that close. Since LSU? You know that. It’s always just been you and me no matter the circumstance or situation, we count on each other for everything and you promised me that when you told me you loved me. I know when you’re not okay even when you try your hardest to hide it from me. I just want you to let me be there for you like I always have…and I don’t care if you think pushing me away is protecting me. I love you more than anything in this world and you will always come first for me no matter what. I’ll always be there for you, even if I get caught in the line of fire,” you said, your voice heavy with despair. “You need me, and I’m there. I’m always there,”.

The words, “I’m always there” echoed in his brain as his gaze fell to the floor, then back to your wary eyes, almost as if he was trying to decide whether to give in or keep holding his front. He felt your words, he felt the weight of your words. He felt how badly you wanted to help him and get him out of his head. But he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already had, that’s why he was pushing you out again. He couldn’t stand the sight of you wiping your tears after he walked away, or hearing you try to stifle your sniffles to spare his feelings or stare into your bloodshot eyes, knowing he was the cause of your pain. You were his delicate Y/N, the one person who was as fragile as a feather but strong as a block of concrete…for him. You promised to protect him at all costs no matter what happened, sometimes even putting herself in the line of fire just to shield him. And in his own twisted way, he thought pushing you away from him was protecting you.

But what he didn’t realize–what he never seemed to understand–was that pushing you away only hurt you both more. You weren’t afraid of his broken pieces or his rough edges because you knew how to hold the shattered pieces together. You knew how to soften the edges. He tried to push you away time and time again, but you always fought it. And now he understood why. To you, his rough edges and shattered pieces weren’t something to run from–it was something to love through. To you, they weren’t flaws to be fixed, but unique parts to be cherished. You saw beauty in his resilience, strength in his vulnerability, and passion in his devotion to protecting the ones he loved the most. He wasn’t anything like what those idiots said, he was far from it. 

You saw him for him. You loved him for him. No matter what was said, what was done, what baggage he carried, you loved him. You never backed away from him when his entire world felt like it was imploding. He had never met anyone like that…anyone like you. 

Why should he push away the best thing that ever happened to him? Why should he let his fears build walls to separate you when all you ever wanted to do was hold him closer, to remind him that he was enough just as he was? You were protective over the ones you loved and he knew that, but you were protective over Joe more than anyone or anything else. 

He’d always allowed you to be there for him, but this time he was doing everything in his power to push back from you. That was not like him at all. He’d always been open with you, seeking solace in your arms, falling asleep to your reassuring, sweet words, getting lost under your protective touch, and breathing in your calming scent. He’d never been the one to ignore you, snap at you, and make you feel overlooked. But ever since the wrist injury, he had moments, phases, where he would get like this; those phases and moments hurt you more than anything any fan could ever say. It hurt you because he pulled away, something he’d never done. In the beginning, you couldn’t figure out why, which scared the hell out of you, and luckily he realized before it was too late. The guilt was almost unbearable at times when he saw you come down with puffy eyes or give him a shaky response. But as time passed and he slowly started to let you in, you understood why he acted the way he did–and it had nothing to do with you. 

This time, however, it had everything to do with you. The game went pretty badly and he was being overly critical about himself as usual, but that’s not what did it for him. Those awful comments people spat at you, his girl? That was where he drew the line. That should’ve been enough for him to comfort you, to hold you for as long as he could, to be there for you. But instead, he was running further from you, shutting himself out, and making you come after him. He didn’t even think about how upset you must be feeling, how difficult it must be to hide it from him because you didn’t want to burden him with anything else. 

“I’m not fine…I haven’t been fine in months and neither has she. She puts this strong front to protect me and I never even realize how much she must be dealing with right now, how much she must be juggling with me, work, and football. She’s not a robot, she’s hurting too,” he thought to himself as his eyes trailed back to yours, seeing the pain behind your pupils. “Let go, Joe. She’s right there for you. Stop being a hardass and let her be there for you. You’re killing her,”. 

“Joe,” you whispered softly, your voice trembling as if you were on the verge of tears, “I’m not going anywhere. Let me in, p- please?”. 

“Let her in, Joe. It’s just Y/N, the girl you’ve loved ever since she showed up at your door with a bag of caramel apple suckers to apologize for crashing football practice. She didn’t have to do that, but she showed up and did. This is the girl that is the first one to come find you after a brutal loss, knowing how much of a detached asshole you’d be in the heat of the moment. She doesn’t have to, but she shows up and does it anyway. This is the woman you want to marry as soon as possible. Why? Because she has always been there for you through thick and thin–she never once has gone back on her promise to be by your side until her wheels fall off. Lots of people in your life came and went and left you high and dry but she never did that to you. She could have, she had so many chances to run for the hills and never look back, but she didn’t. If you keep pushing her away, you’ll push her away for good. You can’t lose her. You can’t live without her. The thought of losing her makes your chest physically hurt,” he thought to himself, feeling that subtle sting in his chest he was thinking about. 

“I love you, Joe. You don’t have to figure this out alone. I can handle it, whatever it is. Just tr- trust me,” you swallowed, your voice cracking again as you felt the emotional waters push against the mental dam you had built in your mind to keep Joe dry. “Keep it together, Y/N,” you told yourself. 

“Trust her. Trust her. Trust her,” Joe’s subconscious whispered, a mantra meant to bring him to his senses. He let out a deep breath, his voice a barely audible mumble as the words left him, “I trust you.” It was so soft, you couldn’t hear him, but even saying it out loud seemed to open something within him. You never gave him a reason to not trust you which meant whatever you were saying, you meant every word. 

You noticed the way his shoulders dropped, tension oozing out of him like air from a balloon. His vulnerability was almost palpable–but it wasn’t just that. There was something else now, something charged, bubbling just beneath the surface. “I need to do something to get her to relax. She won’t tell me how she’s feeling straight up, but I know she’s like a glass of water filled to the brim, each drop teetering on the edge before it spills over in an uncontrollable flood,” his inner voice said, the thought flipping a switch deep inside him. Joe wasn’t oblivious to your habit of putting everyone else before yourself–it was one of the things he admired about you, but it also frustrated him. He hated seeing you push your own emotions to the side. And now, with you standing in front of him, he could see through the cracks in your armor–the water dancing on the edge of the glass–the quiet exhaustion you tried to mask so well for him. 

His stare darkened as the air shifted between you, thick with an implied intensity. His lips curved into a smirk, and the hesitation that had hypnotized him earlier seemed to melt away in an instant. “You know…,” he began, his voice low, laced with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine, “You’re playing a risky game, Y/N,”.  

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanor.  

Joe’s eyes roamed over your body, slow and unapologetic, lingering in a way that made your skin catch on fire. The smirk on his lips deepened, and he tilted his head slightly, the energy between you crackling like lightning. 

“Out here with no clothes on and that look in your eyes…,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and commanding, leaving no doubt that he was fully aware of the effect he had on you.

Oh. 

Your breath hitched, the heat pooling in your belly as your heartbeat quickened, “Oh, I- I…,” you stammered, your words twisting in your throat. 

He chuckled softly, “What’s the matter, lovey? Lost your words?”. 

Oh?

You stared into his deep blue eyes, and something was different. Something had shifted. The wall you’d seen there before, was…gone?

Wait. Was it really gone? The tension, the guarded demeanor–just melted away? Your teasing, your soft words, the way you’d carefully nudged him…did it actually work? You weren’t exactly doubting your ability to break through to him, but this was Joe. Joe, who could be as immovable as a brick wall when he wanted to be. Joe, who sometimes made you work for every crack in his armor. Your heart skipped a beat at the realization. The icy look in his eyes, the stoic front just…gone. Now it was just the Joe you knew. The Joe who trusted you. The Joe that made you smile in moments like these–where you were far from happy. Your Joe. 

You weren’t sure what exactly did it for him but whatever it was, it made him laugh. It made him genuinely laugh. And whatever it was, you sure as hell weren’t going to grill him about it right now.

Now, it was time for step two: release the tension in his mind and body in the best way possible. 

“No,” you shook your head, “Just…distracted,” as you slowly walked around the treadmill. You lifted your hand to glide across his sweaty arm, lightly scratching his bare skin with your manicured nails, “You can’t be in here looking like this…with no shirt…covered in sweat…and expect me to act normal about it,”. Joe’s eyes darted to where your nails danced on his arm, his breath hitching for a brief moment before his gaze met yours again, a mixture of amusement and something stronger swirling within them. 

“You’re trouble,” he said, a little breathless as you pushed yourself away from him and started twirling around the empty space in the gym. 

“Ohhh noooo. I guess you’ll have to arrest me, officer,” you pouted, a mischievous glimmer behind your soft eyes which resulted in another chuckle from your boyfriend. Your lips curled into a playful grin as you circled him like a predator stalking her prey. “There’s that laugh,” you murmured, your tone light as you moved closer to him. “I knew it was in there somewhere. You’ve been holding out on me, Burrow,”.

Joe raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing as he watched your every move. “What are you up to, Y/N?” he asked, a hint of pleasure mixing with curiosity in his voice.

“Oh, me?” you joked, acting innocent as you came around to stand in front of him. “I’m just here to help…you know, ease some of that tension you’ve been carrying around all night,”.

He tilted his head, that familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes after he understood what you were implying. “You’re playing with fire, you know that? Gotta be careful,”.

“And yet,” you shot back, stepping just a little closer, “You’re still standing here, letting me,” you said, your voice just above a whisper. 

Your eyes stayed zoned in on his, observing how that little sparkle burnt brighter behind his as a heavy silence fell between you. You knew the effect you had on him, and it was only a matter of seconds before he gave into that need–that need to feel you everywhere. You watched the tension in his jaw increase, how his chest heaved a little harder, and his eyes dropping to your lips and chest. You also saw the twinge of discomfort on his face which stemmed from the growing tent in his workout shorts. 

“Any second,”  you smirked to yourself. 

You continued to look at him with those heated eyes, waiting for the moment when he gave into his desire, his need to feel you. You knew him too well, which meant you also knew exactly how to set him off. “Well…guess I should just go take care of it myself then. Shouldn’t I?” you teased, slowly inching back from him. Joe absolutely hated not being the one to get you off when you needed to feel liquid bliss coursing through your veins. The idea of you sprawled across your shared bed, your fingers between your thighs, his name falling from your lips, and for him to not be there? That drove him wild.

And as if on cue, his hand slammed down on the power button, the treadmill abruptly stopping. Then you watched as he stepped down while his other hand reached out, gripping your wrist with a firm but gentle hold. Before you had the chance to say something, he pulled you closer. Your bare chest brushed against his slick, sweat-covered torso, “Hell no,” he mumbled.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. Yeah, the effect you had on him was strong and powerful. But when it came down to this, you were a pile of goo in his hands. He knew that and you knew that even better. 

He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over your ear as his voice sent a shiver down your spine, “You wanna play with fire, baby? Well congratulations. You just got burned,”.

And again, before you had a chance to say something, his mouth was on yours. His large hands slide down to your sides, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that makes your knees weak. The heat of his body radiated to yours as he walked you both backward; you were so lost in the lustful haze that surrounded you to realize where you were going. “Mmph,” you moaned into the kiss, feeling the hardness in his boxers brush against your upper thigh. “Please,” you whimpered, feeling his lips mash against yours in a slow, sultry movement. “Joe,”. 

Suddenly, he pulled away from you and plopped down onto the padded bench behind him, then pulled you down with him before you could catch your breath. His strong arms held you firmly in his lap, each of your legs around him as you straddled him in place. “What am I going to do with you now, huh?” he murmured as his lips traveled from your lips, down your neck, and ghosted over your collarbone. “With all that shit you said to me…I shouldn’t be doing this. You were running that pretty little mouth of yours a little too much tonight,”. 

“Joe…,” you whispered, your breath hitching as his other hand slid up your back, tangling in your hair and tugging at the soft, silky strands. Each kiss he pressed was slow, wet, and hot against your skin; he was savoring every inch of you. 

“What, lovey?” he whispered as his lips went back up the path he traced.

You threw your head to the side, allowing his lips to explore parts of your skin he hadn’t adored yet, “Joey, please…I need it,”. 

A low chuckle left his lips, “What’s got you so worked up, hm?”. 

“You…,” you gasped, feeling him attach his lips to the sweet spot on your neck. “I told you…you look so-,”.

“Me?” he rasped as he moved up your neck. “Have you seen yourself? You look gorgeous, and this?,” his fingers toying with the waistband of your purple lace panties, “These are driving me fucking insane,”  he chuckled.“You always look beautiful for me, so effortless and sexy,”.

A rush of heat flooded your body at his words, at his touch, leaving you breathless. His scruff grazed against your delicate skin, sending a rousing mix of roughness and warmth down your spine. Your hips had a mind of their own as they slowly rocked back and forth against Joe’s, his reaction telling you that you were slowly getting through to him in another way…a more pleasurable way. His lips found your ear, brushing against the corner as he whispered, his voice deep and low, “Mmm, yeah…That’s a good girl.”.  

His words ignited a fire within you, your hips instinctively shifting against him in another strong movement, pressing into the hardness you could now feel straining against his shorts. His hands gripped your hips tighter, keeping you steady as he began to guide your movements, enticing soft gasps from your lips. “You’re making it really hard for me to hold back, baby,” he murmured, the heat of his breath tickling your ear as you rocked back and forth on his cock, your panties soaked from your arousal. His fingers trailed up your side, leaving goosebumps in their path before they dipped beneath the waistband and down to your dripping heat.

“Oh,” you whimpered, his knuckles brushing against your slick core, as he watched your reaction. "Joe…," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of desperation and desire. “P- please…need to feel you…,”. 

His lips curved into a smirk against your neck as his fingers moved deeper, exploring your warmth. “So needy…is that why you did this…strip naked? Say all that shit to me? To get my attention?”. One thick finger slid in, your walls immediately clenching around it as he pushed it deeper. 

“O- Ohhh,” you sputtered, then dropped your head onto his shoulder, your hips slowly moving back and forth against his–now damp–shorts. 

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his scruff pressed harder against the sensitive skin of your neck. You’d never get tired of feeling his scratchy scruff against your skin. Whenever you felt it on you, your body knew that you were in for a treat. He then added another finger, his movements rhythmic, precise, and torturously amazing. “You feel so damn perfect, baby,” he whispered, his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping heat with a faint squelching sound. “So tight around my fingers,” he whispered before planting a kiss to your neck. Your hands found his shoulders, clutching onto him for stability as his mouth returned to your ear, his deep groan making your body tremble. “I should hate you for teasing me like that…but how can I when you’re being so good to me now?”.  

“F- fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his fingers graze over your sweet spot. “I- I didn’t mean to…tease you. I just w- wanted to help, oh,” you said, each word struggling to come out of your mouth because of your soft gasps and moans. 

“You’re always so helpful, aren’t you?” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss under your ear. “That’s why I love you so much,”. 

The pressure built within you as his fingers moved expertly, curling in ways that made your body dance to the beat of his drum. His lips left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and to your collarbone, each one sending shockwaves through you. “Agh, Joe, I’m so close,” you whimpered, barely able to form coherent thoughts as the tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter.  

“That’s my girl…such a good girl,” he whispered against your ear, his lips brushing so close that you felt the pressure of every word. “Let go for me, baby. Show me how much you love me,”.  

“Joe, fuck…I-,” you started to say until your breath caught in your throat from the tight feeling in your lower belly. A few more strong pumps later, “Fuck, oh fuck!” you screamed, your body trembling as your walls clenched around his thick fingers and you reached your high, your fingers pulling at his hair.

“That’s it, baby. Let go,” he murmured against your skin, his deep voice wrapping around you like a soft blanket of security. His strong arms held you tightly, grounding you through the intense waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he pressed a few wet kisses along the curve of your neck. His fingers slowed their pace, a delicate, intimate touch now helping you back down from the high he had guided you to. His lips moved up to press soft, tender kisses to your temple, whispering unspoken promises with each one.

Joe knew you were holding back your own emotions as well, likely so that you didn’t burden him with more weight than he already was dealing with. He knew that you had tension built up inside of you, and he noticed that as soon as he got home and saw your eyes. You’d spent the entire night focusing on him, hiding your own thoughts and fears which he knew were eating away at you. He hated seeing you carry that silent load, hated knowing you were sacrificing your own peace for his. That wasn’t how this worked. You needed release, and Joe was determined to give it to you–to make sure you felt just as cared for as he did.

“You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice taking on a softer tone as his hands gently smoothed over your back. “Everything I’ll ever need,”. 

You felt the room spin when you opened your eyes, your body trembling and your mind clouded by the aftermath of your orgasm. Every nerve in your body was alive, buzzing from the way Joe had just untangled you. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, and the first thing your cloudy vision focused on was Joe’s face. His eyes, glossed over with a mix of desire and sincerity, locked onto yours. They had an intensity that sent another shiver down your spine. The heat between you was substantial, and when you shifted slightly, you felt the unmistakable hardness beneath you, pressing firmly against your core. “Joe,” you whispered again, your voice shaky from the tingling sensation in your body. 

He didn’t say a word at first but his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand even the smallest distance between you. His lips opened slightly, his breathing ragged as his forehead came to rest against yours, his damp hair brushing against your skin. “You’re incredible,” he said, his voice low and husky, sending a fresh wave of warmth coursing through you. “Don’t ever let anyone make you think you’re not, okay?” he said, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you anchored to him, the tension between you far from disappearing.  

You bit your lip, your body still trembling as you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his. “I love you, Joe,” you whispered, the words barely audible but filled with meaning. You then pressed your lips against his, feeling yourself ease up when you felt his tongue enter your mouth with no hesitation. 

The groan that escaped his throat was enough to give away how much he needed you, how much he needed to consume you and be consumed by you. His grasp tightened as he shifted beneath you to try to ignore his hardening cock, but he moved a little too quickly and accidentally jerked his hips up toward you. “Mmm,” he hissed, feeling his sensitive erection grow at the contact with your soaked heat. Although he didn’t want to, he forced himself to abruptly pull away from your lips because of the aching need in his shorts that was getting harder to ignore, “I’m not done with you yet, baby,” he reminded both you and himself. 

You gave a lazy nod, your body melting against his as he moved under you. With a firm grip on your waist, he planted his feet on the ground and stood effortlessly, holding you as if you weighed nothing. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the comforting, familiar scent of him–clean, warm, and unmistakably Joe. The gentle scrape of his scruff against your cheek sent a pang of arousal right down to your core again.  

Your arms wrapped around his neck, and while he carried you, the soft light of the room caught the promise ring on your left hand. The delicate shimmer of the diamonds made your lips curl into a faint smile, a silent reminder of everything you’d promised to one another–the love, the loyalty, and the unspoken vow that neither of you would let go, no matter how difficult things might get. 

He carried you over to the couch in the corner of the gym, his steps slow and relaxed. His lips brushed against your cheek to plant a quick kiss as he mumbled, “You okay, babe?”. 

You nodded against him, your voice muffled as you whispered, “Perfect,”.

A chuckle left his lips, “Yeah, you are,” he replied, knowing that when you were with him, ‘perfect’ was always the answer. 

He reached the plush couch and gently lowered you onto the cushions, before straightening up and flashing you with a look so intense it sent a wave of heat coursing through every inch of your body. That long, lingering stare had you squirming below him, desperate for him to touch you again.  

Without breaking eye contact, he slipped out of the last bit of his clothes, his muscles flexing with every small movement. When he finally leaned down, his weight settling over you, the warmth of his bare skin against yours made you shiver. His hands were planted on either side of you, caging you in, but it never felt suffocating–it felt safe. He hovered there, close enough for his breath to mix with yours as his deep blue eyes searched your face, silently asking for reassurance. Any doubt or hesitation in his mind disappeared the second he saw the love reflected in your gaze. “You’re all I’ll ever need,” he whispered, brushing his lips tenderly over yours like a prayer. “You’re the only good thing in my life, and I’m so fucking lucky to have you,”.  

His words should have triggered something–a little siren in your brain, an alarm to unpack the weight of what he’d just said. The only good thing in his life? The significance of that sentence should have hit you harder. But the way he said it–the raw vulnerability in his voice, the tenderness of his touch–made your thoughts blur. The intoxicating mix of love and lust overpowered everything else, and all you could focus on was him and this intimate moment. 

“Joe,” you whispered softly, though it wasn’t a protest. If anything, it was a plea.  

That was all it took for him to close the distance again, his mouth stuck on yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was soft. Each tug and push was more demanding than the last. His teeth grazed your lower lip before pulling it lightly, earning a soft whimper from you that urged him on. His hands roamed your sides, sliding down to grip your hips possessively. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. “Don’t know what I’d do without you,”. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your voice coming out in a whisper. “You don’t have to. I’m here, Joe. Always,”. 

He smirked, but his eyes softened at your words. “Damn right you are,” he murmured before dipping his head to trail kisses along your jawline and down your neck. His scruff scraped against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine as his lips latched onto a sweet spot just below your ear. You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin, leaving his mark for you to find later. “Joe,” you breathed, your voice trembling as his hands slid under your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“Shh, baby,” he grunted, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let me take care of you. Just let go,”.

His hands gripped your hips with a force that caused your vision to go hazy as he adjusted himself above you. When he finally pushed into you, slow and gently, your body arched against him. A breathy moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, every inch of him sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. “Oh, shit,” you moaned, your mouth falling open as you dug your head back into the couch. 

“God, baby,” he rasped, his forehead resting against yours as his hips began to move, his thrusts slow but deep. “You feel…so fucking good,” he moaned, his lips just inches from yours to the point where your breaths were mixing.

“Joe,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his back as he set a steady, rhythmic pace. You could feel the remnants of his sweat on his back, the pheromonic smell of it sending you into another dimension. It mixed with his natural scent, and all of that was now pressing onto your body, the air around you smelling like a delicious cocktail of natural musk, sweat, and sex. Each thrust was precise, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. “Please…don’t stop. Don’t ever s- stop,”.  

His lips brushed over your ear as he whispered, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m not stopping until you can’t think of anything but me,”. His pace quickened slightly, each roll of his hips deliberate and full of intent. 

You moved your hands along the curves of his sculpted back, feeling his large muscles and the slowly loosening tension beneath his golden skin. “Joey,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “Please…I- do whatever you have to do…to relax…f- fuck,”.  

You wanted him to let go, fully let go. You needed him to let go. It may have been difficult to break through the tension in his mind right now, but you knew that this would help him. There was so much tension pent up inside of his body from the field and from what happened off the field, he needed to let go, and you were right there to help him. 

“Oh, I will,” he murmured, matter of factly. “I just need to hear you first. Can you do that for me? Be a little louder? Use that pretty little mouth of yours the way you were meant to,”. 

“F- fuck, okay,” you whimpered, and with each snap of his hips, you got louder and louder. Your moans urged him on, his hips rutting into yours with more urgency now, his movements becoming almost primal as he chased the pleasure of feeling you wrapped around him. “God, Joe. You always do it so good, ohhh,”. 

Joe’s forehead pressed against yours again, his breaths mixing with yours as he forced into you with a steady, hard pace. The pleasure rapidly builds in your body, only growing stronger with every pump of his large cock. The heat between you was overwhelming, every movement sending shivers coursing through your body. His lips hovered just inches from yours, teasing yet comforting, which reminds you he was right there with you. As his hands caressed your sides in a loving manner that made your heart flutter, he said. “I love you, you know that?”. 

“Please, Joe. Don’t stop,” you whimpered, throwing your head to the side as your voice trembled with need; the couch began to creak under you due to the strength of his thrusts. “Joe, don’t stop ever,”. 

His hips didn’t stutter even for a split second, his rhythm was perfect and unrelenting. “Listen to me,” he insisted, quickly using his hand to move your face back to his, his tone gentle and commanding. “You know I love you, right?” he asked again, his cock pounding into your heat with more force to punctuate his words. 

You gasped when his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, his teeth grazing before he bit and sucked gently, leaving his mark on you. “O- Oh, Joey,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his damp hair. “Yeah, y- yeah. I know you love me, baby,”.  

“Good,” he rasped, his forehead pressed to yours again as he kept that hypnotic pace. “Because I fucking do. I love you more than anything,”.  

“Oh my god, Joe,” you choked, your back arching as he adjusted his angle by cupping the back of your knee and lifting your leg a little, hitting a spot that made your vision blur. 

“God damn, baby,” he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure as he felt you open up more than before. “You’re so fucking beautiful, taking me like this. Fuck, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, looking down at his shaft disappearing in and out of your heat, somehow even leaving a little imprint in your lower belly. The sounds filling the room added to the haze, the melodic sound of his cock slapping in and out of your soaked core almost as beautiful as the sounds coming from your lips. 

“Joey. Joey. Joe, fuck,” you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.“Right there–oh my god, Joe, right there!” you screamed, feeling his cock hitting your g-spot over and over, his tip abusing your cervix in the best possible way. 

“Yeah? Right there?” he panted, his breath hot against your skin. “That make you feel good? You like that?” he asked, his next thrust being ever rougher so he could hit the spot again. The sight of your breasts bouncing back and forth from the intensity of his thrusts made his eyes roll back, “Damn,” he grunted under his breath. 

“Oh, fuck yeah. Shit,” you whimpered, your body trembling beneath him, your brain completely dark as you lost yourself in his heated touch.  

His lips found yours again, silencing your moans as his pace quickened. “You’re my girl,” he whispered against your mouth, his voice filled with confidence. “My special girl. Nobody can hurt you, not as long as I’m by your side,”.  

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intimacy and the way his words wrapped around your heart like a protective shield. And well, also because he usually had a knack for sending you to the verge of tears when he was a little intense with you like this. “I know…I- I know, Joe. I’m your girl,” you whispered, your voice cracking as another wave of pleasure overtook you. “Ah,” you hissed, closing your eyes from the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were feeling.  

“That’s right,” he groaned, his hips pressing into you deeper, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “You’re mine, Y/N. Forever mine,”.  

Your eyes met his baby blues, and you felt a warmth behind them that had been missing for weeks. There was a familiar spark between you as if everything else had faded away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate moment. You had finally broken through the barriers he put up. The way he held you now, the way he talked to you now, was different. He was confident, relaxed, and full of raw need. 

As his lips met yours in another kiss, the words he spoke were soft, yet they carried the weight of everything he had been holding back. “I need you,” he whispered between kisses, his voice raw with emotion. “P- please don’t ever leave me, I-. I need you, baby,” he said again, his earlier emotions threatening to take over during this heated affair. 

“I’m yours,” you breathed out, your brain jumping over what he just said, again. “I’m here for y- you…always, fuck-,”. Your legs moved around him, pulling him closer as the pressure coiled tighter and tighter in your core. Your head fell back against the couch, a loud moan escaping your lips as you trembled beneath him. “God, Joe! F- fuck, I can’t…oh my god,” you moaned, breathy gasps falling from your lips with no end in sight.

Joe didn’t stop, his hips slowing just enough to ride you through your nearing high while he continued murmuring sweet, filthy praises against your skin. “Fuck, baby. You were made for me, made for me to fuck you like this,” he groaned, his cock twitching inside of you as your walls convulsed around him.  

You clung to him, your body still shaking as he slowed his movements, his own release edging closer. His lips pressed against your ears, his breath hot and jagged as he whimpered your name over and over. “Let me take care of you,” you murmured, feeling the need to let him know that this wasn’t only about you–hell it wasn’t supposed to be about you. “Let go, Joey. Do what you need to do,”.  

Joe’s eyes locked with yours, the intensity in his gaze stealing your breath all over again. With a groan, he pushed forward, capturing your lips in another kiss so deep it left no doubt–he was yours, and you were his. Always.  

“Oh, I’m so close,” you whimpered, feeling the band in your belly tighten and your walls start to close in on his thick shaft. 

“Fuck…me too, baby,” he whined, picking up the speed of his thrusts while moving a hand down to your bundle of nerves. His fingers fondled your clit expertly, knowing exactly what you liked and how you needed it. And a few seconds later, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over your body. “God, Joe!” you screamed, throwing your head back into the pillows as you arched into him, “Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whimpered. 

“Yeah?” he growled, pushing into your snug walls with more force. “You gonna let go for me? You gonna stop thinking about what those fucking idiots said earlier? Ah. You gonna relax for me?” he groaned, his voice strained as he felt himself tip over the edge from the way you were reacting underneath him. 

“Y- yeah, I will,” you moaned as your body trembled beneath his sweaty frame, caving at the power of his words. Your adorably scrunched-up nose, your fluttering eyes, your rosy cheeks, and your grip on his shoulders were all enough for him to reach his high. He was the only one to have you like this–so vulnerable and raw. And that thought drove him feral. 

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. “Oh, fuck…Y/N,”. With one final, powerful thrust, you felt him come undone, his entire body trembling as he shattered against you. His cock twitched deep inside, flooding your core with his release as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth clamping down on your shoulder to silence his moans. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer and his arms wrapped tightly around you as if you were the only thing anchoring him to the earth. “God, Y/N…,” he panted, his breath hot against your skin as he pushed himself deeper, making sure every last bit of him filled you. 

“Joe,” you whimpered softly, the faint sting below making your voice shake. “Oh m- my god…,” you breathed out, aftershocks of your orgasm washing over you while your eyes adjusted to the room; his arms tightened instinctively around you almost like he could protect you from even the smallest discomfort. 

You felt so achingly full–the feeling of his load and softening cock deep inside of you, and his hand sprawled across your stomach making you a little dizzy. His fingertips began tracing slow, soothing patterns along the curve of your hip, his touch bringing you back down to earth. 

He lifted his head enough to look at you, his messy hair and lazy eyes looking all too familiar. The corners of his mouth curved into a small, satisfied smile as his baby blue eyes softened. “You wore me out, princess,” he murmured, his voice carrying that delicious, raspy edge you loved so much. “But I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,”.  

The warmth in his voice was matched by the way he looked at you, his expression a blend of admiration, affection, and a touch of exhaustion. 

“Thank you, god,” you thought to yourself. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as if he didn’t want to let the moment slip away. “Are you okay?” he asked gently, concern clear in his voice as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “Was I too rough?”.

You shook your head, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “I’m okay,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “Better than okay,”.  

His smile grew, and he leaned down to kiss you again, this time slower, softer, as if he was pouring all the emotions he couldn’t put into words into that single moment. When he pulled back, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean it, Y/N. You’re my everything. I’m so sorry about everything that happened today,”.  

The sincerity in his voice and the way he looked at you made your chest swell with love. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing over the curve of his jaw. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about that right now. Just relax. I’m here,” you whispered back, your words filled with quiet certainty as you ran your other hand up along his chest and stopped at his heart. “You might be a stubborn ass sometimes,” you began, earning a lazy chuckle from him. “But you’re all mine…you’re my everything. I love you,”.

“I’m still sorry for–,” he began, but you didn’t let him finish. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that cut off his unnecessary apology. It was soft but firm, a clear message that he didn’t need to say anything more. When you pulled back, your eyes met his. Those gentle, puppy dog eyes of yours told him everything you wanted him to know–your forgiveness, your love, and your reassurance–all without a single word. He exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing as he gave you a small, grateful smile. 

He took the hint—that you didn’t want to talk about this right now—and kept the conversation going. The last thing he wanted to do was press you about this after he had just gotten you to loosen up. “That was a way better workout than running,” he mumbled, dropping his head down to your chest and breathing in your calming scent as his fingers brushed against your belly; tracing little shapes into your plush skin.

You chuckled weakly, the sound barely a breath as your exhaustion caught up to you. “Mm, good…that was the plan,” your eyelids grew heavier, and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against your body pulled you closer to the edge of sleep. 

“You were extra loud tonight too,” he shamelessly teased, pressing a kiss to your belly. “I liked that,”. 

“…You ask and I deliver..,” you replied lazily, fighting back a yawn. 

Joe noticed the way your responses slowed, your breathing evening out as you succumbed to the warmth and safety of his embrace. “Hey,” he whispered, “You’re fading on me, aren’t you?”.

“Hmm,” you hummed, feeling yourself fall further into slumber. “Mm, tiredd,” you dragged out, yawing again as you closed your eyes for a few seconds. 

“Alright, sleeping beauty,” he murmured, his voice the softest it’d been all night. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” he said and moved with such caution as he knew by the look in your eyes that you were exhausted in more ways than one. You stirred a little, nuzzling into his chest as he picked you up in his arms, your body instinctively latching onto the comfort he offered. 

Joe carried you through the quiet house, the dim light casting soft shadows across his face. He looked down at you, his lips curving into a fond smile as you whispered something in your sleep. “I love you, Joey,” you mumbled, rubbing your cheek against his chest out of comfort. 

“I love you too,” Joe mumbled as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, and as he pulled away to look at you, he felt a tug at his heart. You looked so delicate, so precious in his arms and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for making you act this worried about him. You never showed it, but he knew that you were struggling–that you had been since November. “I’m going to be there for you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Not again, not ever,”. 

When he reached the bedroom, he gently lowered you onto the bed, tucking the covers around you with practiced ease. For a second, he just stood there, watching the way your peaceful face softened in the comfort of your bed. Leaning down, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Sliding into bed next to you, Joe wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he settled in. Even in your sleep, you turned into him, your body naturally finding his warmth. As the quiet night enveloped you both, Joe let out a content sigh, feeling relaxed for the first time all day. Despite the storm raging inside his head, he managed to find shelter in it for you. Now he hoped you could do the same for him, he hoped you could let yourself be open with him. He hoped you’d allow yourself to let him carry some of your weight for once, especially because it was his fault. 

You did what you needed to do–distracting him to get his mind off of things and bring him back to his safe space. But getting you to relax was the true thing that made him take a deep breath and loosen up. Seeing you curled up against him, a faint smile on your lips, your arms clinging to him; that’s what made him genuinely let go. You weren’t just his distraction; you were his peace. And for the first time in hours, he felt like everything was going to be okay.

The Next Morning 

You stirred gently in your sleep, the light of the morning filtering through the curtains and casting a glow over your bare skin. Your eyes fluttered open, lashes brushing against your cheeks as you adjusted to the faint sunshine which was limited by the clouds. A soft, sleepy whine escaped your lips, the remnants of slumber clinging to you as the day began to break through the haze of your dreams.

You turned your head to the space next to you, your nose brushing against his pillow, filling your nostrils with a clean, subtle musk mixed with the faded remains of his body wash–a warm, woodsy fragrance with hints of cedar and sandalwood. Mixed with that was the specific, earthy scent of his skin with the light saltiness of sweat from last night. It was uniquely him–raw, grounding, and intoxicatingly familiar. 

But he wasn’t there. 

“Morning meetings,” you sighed, remembering that he had a typical routine to follow and couldn’t just relax in bed all day with you like you wanted him to. 

You turned your head back to the ceiling, giving yourself a moment to breathe before slowly sitting up. As you moved, a deep, dull ache spread between your thighs–a lingering memento from the night before. “Ooooh,” you hissed softly, biting your lip and carefully lifting your hips to ease the pressure as you shifted forward. The memory of his intensity made a blush rise to your cheeks, and despite the sting, a playful giggle escaped your lips. “Damn, he really went hard last night,” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head at the thought of Joe's unmatched determination–both on and off the field. 

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and planted your feet on the cool wooden floor. The difference sent a little shiver up your spine, bringing you back to the present as you stretched your arms, feeling your body wake up from its lingering exhaustion. “I’ll see him in a few hours…might as well pull myself together in the meantime,” you nodded, then stood up and slowly walked over to the closet. You grabbed your baby blue robe and carefully slipped it onto your nude body, your eyes glancing at every mark he left on your body last night. From the scattered marks on your neck to the print of his fingers on your hips, they were all beautiful remnants of him. 

You smiled at your reflection, the hazy glow of pleasure from the night before still on your face. With a light hum and smile, you grabbed your towel and headed for the bathroom, eager to rinse off and start the day.

As you stepped into the bathroom, your eyes landed on the mirror, and you froze. A cluster of sticky notes was taped to the glass, their colorful squares bright against the surface. Your chest swelled with warmth as you leaned closer to read them, “What’d you do this time,” you mumbled.

Gone for some meetings. Shouldn’t take too long, be back around lunch.

Thanks for last night ;) I love you sooooo much!!

(Sorry if you’re in pain…got a little carried away lol. I left out a bottle of Tylenol and your heating pad for you)

– j.b 

Your fingertips brushed over the notes, and a flood of memories came rushing back. The sticky notes reminded you of your first date–the way Joe had taped one to your apartment door. It had simply said: Open the bag below for tonight.

Flashback to LSU – You and Joe’s first date 

“I think I’m going to puke,” you said to Emma while you stared at yourself in your vanity mirror as she finished curling your hair. 

“Not over that gorgeous dress. Aim for the side,” she laughed, setting the final curl and then using her fingers to separate them. 

You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you looked down at what you were wearing–a special gift from Joe. When you came back to your apartment earlier, there was a neon pink sticky note taped to the door with a silver gift bag at the doorstep. You weren’t expecting anything, so this came to your surprise and when you got closer, the sticky read “Open the bag below for tonight.”. You skeptically opened the bag, only to be met with the best surprise–a beautiful midnight-blue dress with delicate spaghetti straps and a flowy skirt that danced every time you moved. You gasped when you pulled it out of the bag, the soft fabric slipping through your fingers like silk. Another sticky note had been tucked inside the bag, reading, “A beautiful dress for my beautiful girl. Can’t wait to see you tonight :) -  j.b”. 

“He’s…something else,” you grinned to yourself, holding the dress up against your body and admiring the way it sparkled in the light.

Now, hours later, with Emma skillfully finishing your hair and your makeup just right, you were feeling…well, terrified.  

“I’m serious, Em,” you said, twisting in your chair to look at her. “What if I trip in these heels? What if he regrets asking me out? What if I say something stupid, or worse, what if I–,”.

“Stop it.” Emma held her hands up in mock surrender, rolling her eyes. “First of all, you’re not tripping anywhere. Second, Joe Burrow is down-bad obsessed with you, so let’s not even entertain that nonsense. Third, you won’t say anything stupid because you’re charming as hell. Just relax,”.  

You bit your lip, a smile tugging at the corners despite your nerves. “...You think he’s…Obsessed? Really?”.

“Uh, yeah. The man went and picked out a gorgeous, sparkly, expensive–did I mention gorgeous–dress for you. And we all know how men do when it comes to picking things out for girls,” she rolled her eyes. “Joe nailed it and you’re only a girl he met only a few weeks ago but he’s out here like he’s shopping for his fiancee or something. Most guys would just go for flowers or chocolate…but a whole dress–which may or may not retail for $150–,”.

“Wait, what?” you gasped, your eyes widening as you looked down at the outfit. The price tag made your heart race because you’d never worn anything this expensive before–never even imagined it.  

You’d always wanted to feel this beautiful, to have someone make you feel special, like a rare gem. And Joe, of all people, being the one to do that? It completely caught you off guard. Warmth spread through your chest as you realized just how much he was making you feel worth it. The lengths he was going to make tonight the best night ever was something that stuck out to you. Tonight was your first official date, but you two have had plenty of hangouts, flirty exchanges, facetimes, and hour-long text conversations that it didn’t really feel like something as noteworthy as a first date. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t be a little nervous about it. It was a date with…Joe Burrow of course. 

“That’s next-level dedication,” Emma finished, smoothing the skirt of the dress as you stood to admire the full sparkle effect in the mirror. If it was nearly $200, those sparkles better be doing their damn job. “Besides, have you seen the way he looks at you? Either he’s looking at you with severe bedroom eyes or with the most love physically possible…like when we hit up that frat party at Sigma Phi Epsilon last weekend? All of the girls that usually chase after him were there, begging for some form of his attention, but Joe just looked at you. Claire even bumped into him on purpose and spilled her drink on herself to get him to say something to her, but when he saw you with that look in your eyes–the one you get when you feel anxious–he dropped everything to walk straight across the room from his guys and her…to you. Joe was glued to your hip the entire night, constantly checking on you even when you didn’t notice. He was the center of attention at the party—just like any other party—but he didn’t care about anyone except for the girl next to him. Everybody’s watchin’ him, but he’s lookin’ at you. That tiger’s tail is wrapped right around your finger, babe,”. 

Your stomach did a backflip as her words registered in your mind, the gentle ache in your heart intensifying at the mention of that party. The party solidified Joe’s uniqueness amongst the guys at LSU. You remembered standing in the middle of the crowded room, clutching a red solo cup filled with cheap, overly sweet alcohol. The music blared, the bass vibrating in your chest like a second heartbeat, while the room spun with too many bodies pressed too close. You became hyper-aware of everything—the way some guys looked at you, their eyes lingering a little too long, making your skin crawl. The overwhelming smell of sweat and spilled drinks. The chaotic energy of laughter and voices meshing together.

It all became too much, too fast. Your breaths quickened, your chest tightening as panic began to creep in. The walls seemed to close in on you, and the laughter around you sounded sharp, almost mocking. You were frozen, not sure of how to calm yourself without drawing even more attention. Your friends were nowhere in sight, likely caught up in their own conversations or flirting with someone in another corner of the house. You felt alone, trapped in a wave of anxiety that threatened to drown you.

And then, like a lifeline thrown into stormy waters, you felt it–a large, warm hand on your shoulder. The touch was firm but gentle, instantly grounding you. It was familiar and comforting, like it carried a silent assurance that everything would be okay.

Turning your head, you saw him. Joe. His kind eyes searched yours with a quiet intensity, his presence breaking through the chaos around you. In that moment, the weight on your chest lifted, the tight knot in your stomach loosening as the panic started to fade away. It was as if, somehow, he had known exactly when you needed him most, and he’d been there to catch you before you fell.

You’d struggled with anxiety for as long as you could remember, and all the guys you’d been with had realized that one way or another. But none of them cared. None of them knew how to help you and it was because they didn’t want to. They didn’t want to deal with the emotional baggage, with the nerves that you brought with you everywhere you went. But Joe? Joe did. He wanted to help you, be there for you, take care of you. He didn’t even ask you how he could help, he just…knew. 

He spent the rest of the party by your side, trading your alcohol for a soda, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, his thumb sliding up and down your bare arm, and his attention all on you. 

You felt comfortable for the first time all night by his side. Your mind and body were at ease for once, and you didn’t know how to describe the new feeling you felt. It was a feeling you hadn’t experienced before–something warm and magnetic, yet light and giddy all at once. 

But did everyone see it–the way that Joe looked at you like you were the only thought on his mind? Did they see how much he cared about you? Was he so obvious about it?

The connection between you felt so electric, almost as rare and whimsical as lightning in a bottle. You didn’t know if you should be terrified of that because the lighting could shatter through the glass and burn you at any given moment. But it could also be something beautiful, something extraordinary. The kind of spark people spend their whole lives searching for.

Even though you’d only known each other for a short amount of time, the time you had spent together made it feel like you’d know each other for a lifetime. He quickly picked up on your little habits, moods, likes, and dislikes—literally everything there was to know about you. You quickly learned who Joe was behind that helmet and jersey he put on every week, who he was behind his hard-shelled demeanor. He let you in without thinking twice, showing you parts of him he had guarded off for a reason. And you did the same. You didn’t know why since normally you’d be hesitant on showing a guy your weaknesses, your most vulnerable aspects, because you thought they would take advantage of them. But Joe never made you feel like he’d do that to you. 

“I just hope he feels the same about me. I really really like him and it’s kind of scary because I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before and I don’t want to mess it up or screw it up or I don’t know, not give the right vibe? I-,” you blabbed before Emma spoke up.

“Y/N. You’re rambling again,” she said, shaking her head with a knowing smile. “Stop getting in your head over this, babe. You are so hot, so smart, sooooo nerdy, so genuine, and you bring out a side of him that everyone says they’ve never seen. You are the entire package. It doesn’t get any better than you for him,”.

Her words made you pause, your mouth opening as if to argue, but the look in her eyes stopped you. It was determined, full of confidence in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. You let out a nervous laugh, running your hands down the fabric of your dress as you tried to absorb her pep talk. “You really think so?” you asked softly, looking up at her with a hint of doubt.

“I know so,” she said firmly, leaning closer and placing her hands on your shoulders again. “You’re amazing, Y/N. And if he doesn’t already know that–which, spoiler alert, he does–he’s about to find out tonight,”.

“...You’re right,” you nodded, taking a deep breath and giving your reflection one last look. If this was meant to be, how tonight’s date would go will show that. There was no reason to stress over it anymore–you just had to leave it to the universe now. “How do I look?” you asked, quickly changing the subject so that you didn’t get lost in your head even more, your eyes roaming from your delicate bracelets to your dainty necklaces, and finally to the star of the show–your dress.

“Like you’re about to knock him on his ass,” Emma said with a wink. 

“I sure hope so,” you muttered under your breath, feeling a butterfly in your stomach at the thought of him seeing you in the dress he had picked out for you. The deep blue of it shimmered under the soft lights, almost like the dress was alive. And if you looked closely, you could swear the color matched the exact shade of his eyes–especially when he was focused, locked in on something that required all his attention, like the shade of his eyes during a football game. The kind of intensity you could never pull your eyes away from.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was why he chose this dress, if the color reminded him of that fire in his eyes when he was doing or looking at something that mattered to him. The thought made your heart race just a little faster because he always had a way of making you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him when you were together. His eyes were always the same shade as this dress when he looked at you. 

You realized he wasn’t just buying a dress for you. He was buying something that made you feel like you were seen, truly seen by him.

“I know so,” she repeated, her eyes shining with a knowing smile. “Remember, Y/N. He chose you. He decided to ask you out. He chooses you every day, whether it’s spending every free afternoon with you or calling you for hours before he goes to bed. He’s not doing it because he has to; he’s doing it because he wants to. He wants this with you. He wants you,”.

She was right, and you knew that deep down in your heart—the same heart that was slowly having his name carved into it. Joe always had this gentle smile when he looked at you, this way about him that instantly made you feel comfortable. Everything about him screamed comfortable. But he also had this way about him that made you want to forget the rules, to let your hair down in the breeze, to forget about life for just a second, and to savor each moment for what it was. He made you feel alive. Ever since you met him, the world seemed to take on a new energy, like someone had turned up the saturation in your life. Colors looked richer, sounds felt clearer, and every little thing had a kind of magic it hadn’t before. Joe had this effortless way of bringing joy into your life that nobody else had ever done. He made you laugh harder than you ever thought possible, those deep belly laughs that left you breathless and grinning ear to ear. He made you smile longer too, the kind of smile that lingered even when he wasn’t around, sparked by a memory or the very thought of him. 

And those butterflies–oh, those butterflies. They were stubborn, fluttering in your chest every time his name crossed your mind. Whether it was the memory of his laugh, the way his hand brushed yours, or the way his voice dipped when he said your name, they never failed to make their presence known. He wasn’t just someone who made you happy; he made you feel everything more deeply. With Joe, the world was brighter, lighter, alive.

Just like this dress. 

—

While you were inside your apartment getting ready and feeling those stubborn butterflies all over again, Joe was standing in front of the mirror in Ja’marr’s apartment, adjusting his button-up for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Man, relax,” Ja’marr said, lounging on his bed while tossing a football in the air. “It’s just a date. You acting like you about to propose or something,”.  

“Easy for you to say,” Joe muttered, tugging at the sleeves. “She’s...she’s different. This isn’t just any date,”.  

Justin, sitting at the desk scrolling through his phone, looked up and grinned. “He’s whipped already and they haven’t even gone out yet. Looks like Joey done got struck by cupid’s arrow,” he teased.

“‘Bout damn time too!” Ja’marr nodded. “I’m tired of this man complaining ‘bout how he don’t got a girl when he sees the couples out and about or someone to build legos with ever since I started hangin’ with Shyla,”.  

Joe shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. He couldn’t deny it–he was whipped. Ever since he’d worked up the courage to ask you out, you’d been all he could think about. He wanted everything to be perfect tonight, down to the smallest detail. “You think she’ll like the dress and flowers?” Joe asked, ignoring Ja’marr’s comments and glancing nervously at the bouquet of carnations and roses sitting on the desk next to the container filled with smarties. 

“Boy,” Ja’marr said, catching the football and sitting up. “You nailed it. She’s gonna look amazing in it, and she’s gonna love that you went out of ya way to pick that out from the most expensive store in the mall and the flowers out. Hell, I think she’ll lose it for real once she sees the smarties box,”.  

Justin chuckled. “You stressing too much, bro. Just be yourself. You know she already likes you, right?”. 

Joe sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, but...she’s special. I don’t want to screw this up,”.  

“Special, huh?” Ja’marr teased, smirking at Justin as they both thought the same thing. With the way Joe had talked about you to them plus how he was acting right now only made it clear that he was serious serious about you. They couldn’t really place their finger on why since you’d only known each other for a short amount of time, but they weren’t going to question it as long as Joe had that boyish smile and glow on his face, the smile and glow you put on his face. 

“Yeah, special,” Joe said firmly, his jaw setting as he turned to face his friends. “She’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met. She’s so smart, adorably funny, so natural, and so damn beautiful, and I don’t want her thinking she made a mistake agreeing to this…'cause well…dating the star quarterback sounds scary as hell. I don’t want her to feel nervous around me because of who I am and what I do,”.  

Justin and Ja’marr exchanged a look, their smirks softening into understanding smiles. “Boy quit worrying,” Justin said, standing up and lightly punching Joe on the shoulder. “She seems like a great girl…a lot better than the girls that throw themselves at you. You got this,”. 

“Claire,” Ja’marr coughed. 

“Just keep your cool? Like how you do during a game. Think of it like that,” Justin added. 

Ja’marr nodded, leaning back on his bed. “And if you don’t, well, just let your awkward charm work for you. Girls eat that up,”.  

Joe rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, guys. Really great advice,”.  

“Anytime,” Justin smiled. “Now go pick her up before she thinks you bailed,” he said, turning Joe around to face the door. 

But Joe wasn’t done with his nervous ranting just yet. “What if I say something stupid though? I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. Or wait, what if I don’t say the things I should be saying? I really like her and I don’t want to make her feel like I don’t, y’know? Like I want her to know I’m taking this seriously,” Joe rambled, overthinking every detail about tonight. “What if she hates the dress? What if she hates the dinner set up? I-”.

“Joe.” Ja’marr shouted, shooting up from his bed and walking over to his best friend. “Wake the fuck up man? What’s wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why you actin’ like you don’t know how to do this?”. 

“I…I don’t know,” he admitted, not sure why he was worrying about tonight. You never gave him a reason to worry, so why was he so scared about messing things up with you? Joe sighed, running a hand through his hair as he paced the length of the room. “It’s just...she’s different, y’know? She’s not like anyone else. I’ve never felt this way about someone before,”.

Ja’marr crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he watched Joe unravel. “Bro, she already likes you. Hell, she said yes to the date, didn’t she? You’re Joe freakin’ Burrow. Stop psyching yourself out,”.

“But that’s the thing,” Joe argued, stopping mid-step and looking at his friend with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “I don’t want her to like me just because I’m Joe freakin’ Burrow. I want her to like me, the real me,”.

Justin finally chimed in, a smirk evident on his face. “So show her the real you, man. Don’t overthink it. You’re a good guy, Joe. She already knows that, or she wouldn’t be wasting her time on you,”.

Joe dropped into a chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he hung his head, his stomach doing nervous backflips as if he was getting ready for the biggest game of his entire career. “I just...I really don’t want to screw this up,”.

“Joe, don’t be doing that,” Ja’marr said firmly, patting a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “She’s gonna love the dress, the dinner, all of it. And if she doesn’t, she’s not the one. Just relax, man,”.

Joe let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay. Relax. Sure,”.

Justin chuckled, throwing a pillow at him. “For real, though, don’t overthink it. She’s probably over there freaking out just as much as you are,”.

Joe tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he imagined you running around, freaking out about the date with a tube of mascara in hand and a mirror in the other. “You think so?”. 

“Guaranteed,” Ja’marr said with a grin. “She’s probably stressing about the exact same things you are. Don’t underestimate the depths of girl talk. Shyla told me it’s more than just gossip and talking about sex. They always freakin’ out ‘bout something like their nail color or that their period is late or some shit,”. 

“What?” Joe twisted his head and questioned, not understanding what Ja’marr was getting at and if the thought of you gossiping about him and sex–the sex you haven’t had yet–was supposed to make him feel better. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Now, come on, Romeo. That clock is tickin’, and you got a girl to get. Pull your head up, straighten them shoulders out, take a deep breath, and go get the future Mrs. Burrow,” Ja’marr nodded, his tone half-serious but laced with the usual teasing that always seemed to calm Joe’s nerves.  

Joe couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s words, the humor breaking through his anxiety just enough to loosen the tightness in his chest. Leave it to Ja’marr to keep him grounded, even when he felt like he was about to jump out of his own skin. “Alright, alright,” Joe said, standing up and rolling his shoulders back like he was about to step onto the field for a game-winning drive. He took a deep breath, letting the tension in his body melt away as he focused on one thing–you. The thought of your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed, and the softness of your voice filled his mind like a relaxer. Those memories were his anchor, steadying him when the nerves threatened to take over. He looked down at the bouquet in one hand and the container of smarties in the other, his lips shifting into a small, almost boyish smile. He couldn’t believe just a few months ago he was thinking he’d never find the right girl, that he’d be alone for the rest of his life and not have someone to share his happiness with. And now here he was, absolutely obsessed with the greatest woman he had ever come across. The one woman who completely rocked his world the moment she walked in.  

“Alright,” Joe murmured to himself. With one last deep breath and a few goodbyes, he turned to head out, the flutter of anxious energy in his stomach transforming into a feeling of excitement.  

As he walked to his car, Ja’marr’s last words echoed in his mind, making him shake his head with a grin. “Future Mrs. Burrow,” he muttered, the thought simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. 

The time you spent in those few weeks had made it beautifully clear that you were different from the other girls he’d been with. You gave him a feeling that he’d never felt before, a feeling that only comes around once in a person’s lifetime. That feeling you get when you feel like you’ve met the one. 

You made him feel that feeling.

Maybe you were the future Mrs. Burrow. 

“Only one way to find out,” Joe smiled, staring at the bouquet of flowers he had for you. 

—

A little later, after receiving a text from Joe that he was on his way, you were standing by your door and giving yourself a mental pep talk as your heart hammered against your chest. “Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. It’s just Joe. Everything will be fine. You’ve been alone with him plenty of times before. You can do this,” you told yourself, then heard a soft knock on the door which made your heart skip a beat. “Oh god, he’s here. Just don’t throw up or say the wrong words and it’ll be fine…right?”.

You took one final, deep, long breath before you opened the door to find Joe standing there with his arms behind his back, looking effortlessly handsome in a crisp white, long-sleeved button-up and black pants.  

“Oh, fuck he looks good,” was your first of many shameful thoughts of the night. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything out loud. His eyes scanned you from head to toe before his lips parted. “Wow,” he said, his tone laced with awe, his eyes widening and his stomach fluttering as if he had just come across the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid his eyes on–which you honestly were. “You l- look...absolutely stunning,”.  

“God, she looks even sexier than usual. The blue really brings out her smile and eyes…,” he thought to himself, his eyes landing on your hips, then your chest, lingering for a second too long which made your breath hitch. 

Your cheeks flushed so hard you could feel the warmth spread to your ears. “The d- dress really s- suits you,” he said, moving back to your eyes, awkwardly letting the words fall from his lips as he felt his heart palpitate in his chest. 

He was stuttering. He was standing here in front of you, stuttering because he couldn’t comprehend how beautiful you looked; his baby blue eyes wider than ever before as he was bouncing back and forth on his feet. 

He was nervous.

Joe Burrow was nervous, because of you. 

Adorable.

“Thanks to you,” you replied softly, glancing down at the dress he picked out, and brushing the fabric nervously with your fingers. “This dress…it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You have great taste, it’s exactly what I like and I love it. Thank you for this, Joey,”.

Joe’s lips curved into a more peaceful smile now that he knew you liked it, one that reached his eyes, and then, as if remembering something, he brought forward one of his hands. Your eyes widened as he brought out a bouquet–your favorite mix of carnations and roses, arranged in a delicate bundle and wrapped in crisp pink paper.  “These are for you,” he said, his voice shy.

For a moment, you just stared, your heart swelling in your chest as a wave of emotion threatened to smoosh you. The flowers were perfect, like he’d thought of you with each petal–which he did because he remembered you telling him all about your favorite flowers. From the specific flower shop to the specific flowers, to the colors and combinations, you rambled about it for minutes when you grabbed a post-practice meal with him last week. Even though he was sore, tired, and sleepy, he still listened to you as if you were giving the State of the Union address at the White House; like what you were saying was life-altering important. 

You reached out slowly, your fingers brushing his as you took them. “They’re beautiful,” you whispered, feeling your throat tighten. “You’re so sweet, J. I love them,”.  

The vulnerability in your voice must have touched his heart directly because his smile deepened, his gaze softening. “They reminded me of you,” he said simply. “Delicate and gorgeous, their beauty shines through each soft petal-like how you effortlessly light up every room you walk into, leaving everyone around you–especially me–in awe,”. 

“I-,”.

“Oh, and I have something else for you,” he added, bringing forth his other hand, which held a medium-sized, clear container in it.

Your eyes widened as you peeked inside, “There is no way he-,” you thought, realizing it was filled with unwrapped smarties. “Oh my god,” you gasped out loud. “Joe, did you- did you actually unwrap all of these?”.

He shrugged, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. “You told me how much you hated unwrapping them, so…I figured I’d save you the trouble,”.

Holy shit. 

A few nights ago, during a late-night FaceTime call–the kind that only happened when both of you couldn’t sleep–you found yourself rambling about the little things to each other. The conversation had started with a casual “What are you doing?” that spiraled into a deep dive into your love for smarties.

You had told Joe the story with a soft smile on your face, remembering how your brother built the logo of your favorite football team out of the colorful candies for your birthday one year. It was one of your favorite memories, and ever since then, smarties have become your go-to comfort snack. “I love them,” you confessed. “But I hate unwrapping them. It’s so tedious. Like, why do they need to make it that hard to enjoy them?”.

Joe had laughed at the time, shaking his head at how passionate you sounded about something so simple. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he had said with a grin, his face brightened by the glow of his phone screen.

Now, standing in front of you with a container of what looked like more than a hundred pieces of unwrapped smarties, Joe Burrow was proving once again that he paid attention to everything you said.

Your heart swelled, and you couldn’t stop the wide grin spreading across your face. “Joe Burrow, you are ridiculous,” you said, but your tone was soft, full of affection.

“I’m resourceful,” he corrected with a nod, his smile turning playful. “And besides, you deserve to have your smarties stress-free, even if it might have taken me a few hours to make sure of it,”.

You laughed, reaching out to touch his arm. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. You really know how to make a girl feel special,”.

His grin softened as he looked down at you, his blue eyes glowing in the evening light. “You’re worth it,” he said simply, the seriousness in his tone making your chest tighten with a giddy feeling.

You clutched the flowers and smarties to your chest, feeling the weight of his thoughtfulness settle over you. What he did was such a simple thing, yet the way it made you feel was as if he pronounced his love for you in front of the entire state of Louisiana. But that’s just it, Joe had a way of making the smallest, sincerest, gestures feel like some of the biggest deals ever. He listened to the little things, that’s what made him so special. 

“Okay,” you said with a soft smile. “Now you’re just showing off,” you said, referring to how easily he got you to this point–giggly, shy, and oh so soft. 

He smirked, his confidence returning. “Is it working?”.

“Oh my god, he’s perfect,” you thought to yourself, feeling the urge to skip to the end of the movie that was your life, jump into his arms, and run off into the sunset with him. He was so good at sweet-talking, he made it seem so…easy? He never made it feel forced or like he had to say those things–which again, separated him from every other guy you’d been with. All the other guys made saying these little compliments, sweet nothings, feel like a monotonous chore. But with Joe, it wasn’t like that at all. It couldn’t be with the way those things easily and constantly slipped from his mouth.

Before you could respond, a voice cut through the flirty moment. “Oh, for god’s sake, Lover boy,” Emma laughed from behind you, leaning casually against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed and an exaggerated smirk. “How much longer are you going to stare at her like that? You’ll make her blush right out of that dress,”.  

“Emma!” you hissed, spinning around with a glare.  

She shrugged innocently. “What? I’m just saying,” while popping a bite of a brownie in her mouth. “Just…don’t get her pregnant, okay? I don’t want to babysit like ever,”.  

Your mouth dropped open in sheer mortification, and your face burned so hot you thought you might combust on the spot. Behind you, Joe let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin as he tried not to laugh too hard. “Emma!” you snapped, your voice strangled as you clutched the flowers tighter.  

“I’m serious,” she laughed. “You were going on and onnn earlier about how you think he’s the hottest man you’d ever seen, how you just want to pull on his soft hair and want him to throw you aroun–,”.

“Emma Lynn!” you screamed in mortification, shutting her down before she could finish what she was saying, Joe’s cheeks turning red as you whined in embarrassment. He did not need to know what went on during girl talk earlier, especially because the things that you said were so…fueled by hormones. 

But you couldn’t really help it? He was seriously the hottest man you’d ever come across. His soft, adorable, gentle nature went so well with his stoic, hard-headed, sometimes cocky, always sexy, character. When you got a mixture of both his sides, you were right on your knees in front of him. The things you wanted him to do to you would quite literally set feminism back by a few hundred years. 

“I’m just teasing,” she lied, giving you a wink as she pushed off the counter. “But seriously, nice flowers, Joe. Maybe you can teach other guys how to not be so clueless,”.  

“Emma, go away!” you glared, feeling incredibly embarrassed by your friend’s teasing. 

She raised her hands in mock surrender, walking towards your bathroom with a smug grin. “Alrighttttttt. You two have fun…but not too much fun,” she said over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall.  

You turned back to Joe, groaning as you covered your face with one hand. “I’m so sorry about her,” you mumbled, peeking at him through your fingers. But Joe didn’t seem flustered. If anything, his smile grew more relaxed, his boyish charm shining through. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. “She’s...protective, I guess?”.

“More like annoying,” you muttered, shaking your head.  

“Hey, I don’t mind,” he said with a soft laugh. “It’s nice to know you’ve got people looking out for you. Even if they’re a little...direct about it,”.  

You couldn’t help but laugh, lowering your head. “Yeah, direct is one way to put it,”.  

Joe laughed as he held out his hand, the hand that was always so steady and sure; whether it was gripping a football or your hand, his grip was firm, like he knew exactly what he was going to do at all times. “You ready?” he asked, his deep blue eyes meeting yours, searching for the answer he already seemed to know.

For a moment, everything around you felt different. The air seemed lighter, almost like a soft breeze had wrapped around you both and put you in your own safe cocoon. The sky shifted from baby blue to lilac and orange; you couldn’t tell if it was real or just your imagination.  

Looking at him, clutching the flowers and candy he gave you, a strong feeling rushed through you, one so deep it almost knocked you over. You’d only known Joe for a few weeks, but it felt like longer, like he’d been part of your life forever. There was something about him–a pull, magnetic and impossible to resist–that made you want to stay close, to let him hold you and never let go.  

He gave your hand three gentle squeezes, a small gesture that felt like so much more. You could tell it meant something more, but you didn’t overthink it. It was too soon for that, or at least that’s what your brain said. Right now, all that mattered was him and this special moment.

“Ready,” you smiled, feeling that pull between you tighten once the word left your lips. 

If it was too soon for that then why did it feel like you were saying “ready” for something so much more? This wasn’t a lifelong vow, just a first date. But the significance of the moment hung in the air and it was hard to ignore. Maybe it was the way Joe looked at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe it was the way the dress hugged your body in all the right places, making you feel effortlessly beautiful, or how the soft floral scent of the bouquet in your hands seemed to cast a spell around you, clouding your thoughts and focusing them only on him. Or maybe it was because Joe felt different. A kind of different that wasn’t just exciting–it was safe and grounding but also made you feel exposed in the best way; like he already understood parts of you you hadn’t shared yet. This didn’t feel like just a first date. It felt like the beginning of something bigger, something important.  

Joe must have sensed it too. As he led you out the door, his hand never leaving yours, his pace was slow, unhurried. He looked at you often, his eyes full of stars, like he was etching this moment into memory. It was as if this wasn’t just a step into the night, but a step toward fulfilling something inevitable. Something written in the stars. 

Neither of you said much on the short walk to his car, but his actions spoke volumes. There was a naturality in the way Joe moved around you, a quiet attentiveness that felt so...gentlemanly. When he opened the car door for you, his hand found the small of your back, keeping you steady as you slid into the seat. His touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, sending a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the cool evening air. As he walked to the driver’s side, you adjusted in your seat, and you couldn’t help but notice how the tension seemed to grow between you both, turning electric by the second. He didn’t start the car right away, though. Instead, his eyes moved toward you as he waited for you to settle in, like even the small act of buckling your seatbelt deserved his undivided attention.  

Then, with the same quiet thoughtfulness that had your heart doing little flips, he reached out and turned the air conditioner down without a word. It was such a small thing, but it made you pause. 

He remembered. 

He remembered how you’d shivered after one of his games a few weeks ago, and how you’d mentioned, half-jokingly, that you were always cold. That night, he placed his sweatshirt over your shoulders without hesitation–a gesture so casual but so thoughtful it left you floored. He still hadn’t asked for it back, which was great because you wore it to bed almost every night now–which he didn’t need to know. 

You bit your lip to hide the smile creeping onto your face. The fact that he remembered such a tiny detail about you–a throwaway comment from weeks ago–made your heart soar. It wasn’t just the grand gestures, like tonight’s date, but these quiet, understated moments that made you feel seen in a way you never had before.  

A few minutes later, the soft tune of Eventually by Tame Impala played through the car, filling the quiet space. Joe tapped his fingers lightly on the top of the steering wheel, humming along with the song. The streetlights outside cast a soft glow on his face, showing the sharpness of his jawline and the calm look in his eyes.  

But the lights didn’t just light up the road—they brought your emotions into focus, the ones you’d been trying to push down. You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering, were you ready for this? For him?  

You looked over at him. He looked so sure, so steady, and it pulled at something deep inside your chest. Joe wasn’t just another guy. He was someone who could change everything, someone you could fall for completely. It was scary, but at the same time, it felt like there was no turning back. Not now, not with him. He knew what he wanted, now the ball was in your court. 

Being with Joe meant a lot of things: stepping into the spotlight, taking on the role of a quarterback’s girlfriend, and accepting all the emotional ups and downs that came with being with someone chasing a dream as big as the NFL. It meant being recognized by strangers, whispered about in stands and dining halls, and analyzed by people who didn’t even know your last name. It meant late nights comforting him after tough games, early morning pep talks before practices, and balancing your life with the whirlwind of his. 

Were you ready for all that?

And as if on cue, you felt Joe’s soft hand slowly reach over and rest gently on your knee. His touch was soft, but the weight of it felt like an anchor, grounding you in this quiet moment almost as if he knew you were hesitating about this. His thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles over your knee, a simple gesture that sent a comforting warmth spreading through your body. Each soft stroke felt like a promise, an implicit connection that went beyond words. 

And then, you realized being with Joe also meant so much more. It meant laughter that made your cheeks hurt, quiet moments where it felt like the world disappeared, and a kind of love that left you breathless. It meant being someone he could count on when the pressure felt too heavy, and knowing he’d do the same for you without hesitation. It meant being part of his journey–not just as a supportive figure, but as someone he genuinely wanted by his side through it all; someone who he wanted to share his world with. 

Your breath hitched slightly when you felt him give you a squeeze. It was the subtle way he made you feel seen and cared for. It was more than just his hand on your thigh. It was his entire presence, so calm and collected, wrapping around you like a safe hug.

Joe felt safe. You hadn’t felt that kind of feeling in any of your previous relationships, until him. But while he felt safe, he and his world also felt risky. He could leave you heartbroken, shattered beyond repair in the blink of an eye, but he could also make you experience life in a way you would’ve never imagined, show you a love that you thought only existed in the fairytales. Yes, he was a risk, but he was the risk you were willing to take. He was a safe risk. 

And that’s when you realized, without a doubt, that you were ready for this. Ready for him. For all the uncertainties, for the unknowns of what might come next. You were ready for Joe, for whatever this was, wherever it was going. 

You were ready for it because it felt right.

Like all the stars aligned perfectly for the first time in your life. 

And that was something so hard to ignore. 

You looked back up at his face, and this time, his eyes caught yours. “You okay?” he asked, flashing you that gentle, loving smile you had become obsessed with. 

You nodded, “Better than okay, Joey,” while placing your hand over his, picking it up, and pressing your lips to his knuckles–an action that sent butterflies through his body.

—

The soft glow of the candles reflected off the white tablecloth as you walked into the private dining room at Sogno d’Innamorati. The room was intimate and warm, with delicate floral arrangements decorating the small table set perfectly for two. He had rented out the room just for your date, wanting to spend time with you alone and away from any interruptions or distractions. You couldn't remember the last time a guy went this big for the first date, so either Joe was trying to impress you or this was just how he was–intimate and private. 

“He really went all out,” you thought to yourself as Joe guided you inside with his warm touch on the small of your back. A glimpse at the restaurant name on the menu made you tilt your head in curiosity, you wondered what it could have meant.

“This is so beautiful,” you murmured, turning to him with a soft smile. “Sogno d’Innamorati…What does that mean?”.

Joe hesitated for the shortest second, his eyes flickering to you as he rubbed the back of his neck. Then, with a small, slightly bashful grin, he said, “Lover’s dream,”.

You felt your cheeks heat up because of the way he said it, so raspy and almost…shy, sending a shiver through your body. “Lover’s dream?” you repeated softly, a timid smile forming on your face.

He nodded, his eyes locked in on yours for a second longer than intended, “Yeah,” he said, then looking down briefly. “Thought it might be a fitting place for our first date. I heard the food is phenomenal and I thought you might like the vibe, ya know? It’s romantic and warm,”. 

You once again tried to fight back the urge to jump in his arms, but it was getting more and more difficult because he was quite literally sweeping you off your feet with every little thing tonight. “Joe, that’s…that’s so sweet,” you said, nervously glancing from the table to him. “You really went all out for this date…thank you. I love all of it,” you smiled, your facial muscles straining from the amount of times you’d smiled at him in the past hour. 

“God, she’s a lover’s dream,” he thought to himself as he got lost in your eyes–the eyes that had a look in them that seemed like they’d love him for a lifetime. He snapped out of the daze and then led you to your chair, replaying the way your face lit up when you walked into the room over and over again because of how happy you looked.

—

The atmosphere felt light and dreamy, yet tinted with unspoken nervous energy. Joe was being his usual polite and attentive self, pulling out your chair and making sure you were comfortable. But you could tell he was fidgety in the smallest ways–the little adjustments to his cuffs, the quick flick of his fingers over the edge of his wine glass, the fidgeting with his napkin, and his nervous glancing from the menu to your face that he thought you didn’t notice. 

It was absolutely adorable how someone like him could be so nervous around someone like you. 

At first, you both sat across from each other, the classy arrangement of the table separating you. The flowers he’d brought earlier sat between you now, their soft scent mingling with the smell of freshly baked bread and wine. The conversation between you flowed easily, despite the jittery undertone that made you both laugh at yourselves every now and then.

Joe leaned back in his chair,  still fidgeting with the edge of his napkin, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. “So, uh...what’s your favorite part of this whole...dinner thing so far?” he asked, clearly overthinking his question the second it left his mouth.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “The whole dinner thing? You mean this?” you gestured to the dimly lit room, the elegant table, and the soft music playing in the background. “I don’t know, I guess...the company?”.

Joe’s face brightened as he realized you were teasing him. “Right, right. The company is, uh, definitely...the best part,”.

You leaned in a little, lowering your voice in mock seriousness. “I’m glad you agree. But I do have to say, the wine is pretty close behind,”.

Joe laughed, his nerves melting a little. “Yeah, wine’s great. I just–,” he paused, glancing down at his hands for a moment, before looking back up at you. “I don’t know, I just don’t want to...I want to make sure you’re having a good time, y’know?”.

Your heart melted a little at his softness and shyness, “He’s still nervous. Aw, Joey,” you thought before you spoke up. “Joe, I’m having a great time. Seriously. You don’t need to worry about me,”.

“I mean,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve never exactly... done the fancy dinner thing. It’s not... uh...not really my style but I wanted something like this for you,”.

“Oh, I can tell,” you grinned, teasing him again. “The way you looked at the different forks next to your plate earlier told me everything, but you’re pulling it off pretty well. I’ll give you an A for effort,”.

Joe snorted, clearly relieved that you picked up on his vibe. “Okay, well, A for effort, but not, like, a solid A+?”.

You giggled, giving him a playful side eye. “I mean...maybe if you added a little more charm,”.

He leaned forward in shock. “Charm?,” he dramatically gasped, “You mean I’m not charming enough already?”.

You pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping your chin dramatically. “Well, I think you're getting there. But, I might need a few more minutes to decide,”.

Joe let out a dramatic sigh, putting his hand over his heart. “Well, now I’m just heartbroken. I thought I was acing it,”. 

“Like I said, keep up with the charm and maybe my answer will change,” you winked, raising your wine glass to take a sip.  

—

After a while, Joe started shifting in his seat, leaning forward as if the space between you was unbearable. You watched him stand up, and your eyebrows rose in confusion. “What are you doing?” you asked, laughing nervously because you weren’t sure if you said something or did something to make him abruptly get up. 

“I don’t like this,” he said simply, shaking his head in disapproval.

You felt your heart stop, your stomach churn, and the room catch on fire all within the span of a few seconds. “Oh, it’s over. I fucked up. I ruined the date and he doesn’t want this anymore,” you thought, feeling a wave of nausea come over you as you stared at Joe. You had a knack for jumping to conclusions in moments like these, which is why when you saw him pick up his chair, walk around the table, and place it next to yours, you froze.

Oh.

When he sat back down, he smiled, looking much more at peace and genuinely comfortable. “Better,” he murmured, casually draping his arm over the back of your chair, his body warmth immediately enveloping you.

You felt his fingers softly grazing your shoulder, each touch giving your heart the much-needed shocks to start back up again. You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said, teasing but secretly loving how close he was and how he physically couldn’t be that far away from you.

“I wanted to,” he said matter-of-factly, his blue eyes sparkling. “Wanted to be close to you,”.

You felt his lips press against your temple in a tender kiss, his hand continuing to rub gentle circles on your bare shoulder. The softness of the gesture and the way he let out a quiet laugh–like he was still a little nervous–made you smile.

“Can’t stay away from me, Burrow?” you teased, leaning into his body a little more. 

“Nope,” he admitted, smiling against your forehead. “You’ve got me wrapped around your pretty little finger, lovey,”.

Lovey?

The nickname dangled in the air like a soft melody, and you froze for a moment. It wasn’t the nickname itself but the way he said it–so natural, so affectionate, like it had always been yours.

Your head tilted up to look at him, your eyes wide. “Lovey?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe’s cheeks flushed, his confident smile stuttering for just a second before he shrugged, playing it cool. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “It just…fits, doesn’t it?”.

You blinked at him, the surprise thawing into something warmer, something deeper. “You really just came up with that, didn’t you?”.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe. But it feels right,”.

The way his eyes met yours, so sincere and steady, made your heart skip a beat. “Lovey,” you repeated again, this time with a soft smile pulling at your lips. “I kind of…love it,”.

Joe grinned, that boyish, lopsided grin that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “Good,” he said, pulling you a little closer. “Because I’m not taking it back,”.

You laughed, your cheeks warm as you leaned into him again. “You’re such a softie, Burrow. Who would’ve guessed that the stone-cold LSU quarterback was such a sappy, lover boy deep down?”. But…I like it. I like you like this,”.

“Guess I just needed the right person to bring out that side to me, lovey,” he winked. 

Your heart fluttered at the way he said it again, and you knew right then and there that you’d never get tired of hearing that nickname–or the way he made you feel like you were his entire world.

—

The mood shifted as the main courses arrived and the yummy smell of Italian cuisine filled the air. Everything was flowing so easily between you two, and at one point, you caught him staring at you a little longer than usual. “What?” you asked, feeling a little nervous but excited by the way he was looking at you. 

“Sei così bella in questa luce,” he said with a smirk, his voice soft and warm.

You blinked at him, your lips parting slightly in surprise. “Wait. What?”.

He cleared his throat, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “It means…you look so beautiful in this light,”.

“Oh my god,” you thought to yourself, “He fucking knows Italian? Is he real?”. 

Your heart skipped a beat as your hand instinctively rose to your cheek. “Joe Burrow,” you whispered, your voice laced with surprise and a touch of shyness. “You know Italian?” you asked while shaking your head in disbelief. What did this man not know?

“A little bit,” he shrugged, though the twinkle in his eyes told you he was lying. He’d actually memorized a few one-liners for you tonight, hoping to add to the vibe and impress you. 

“Hmmm..Really?” you teased. 

He smirked again, leaning back as he tried to keep his cool, “Mi piace sentire il suono della tua risata,” he said, his voice smoother than silk.

You tilted your head, your curiosity piqued as you raised your eyebrow at him. “And what does that mean?”.

“I love hearing the sound of your laugh,” he translated, his excited eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound making his lips curve into a bigger smile. “Anything else you’ve got up your sleeve?” you asked, leaning forward slightly. 

His smirk deepened as he leaned in, his voice a husky whisper. “Sei incredibilmente bella con questo vestito e mi fai sudare,”.

The words sounded impossibly romantic in his deep, husky voice, but the way his cheeks turned pink after saying it made you suspicious. “Okay, now I need to know what that means,” you said, your grin widening.

“It means…you look insanely gorgeous in this dress, and it’s making me sweat,” he admitted, his bashful tone contrasting with the boldness of the words.

You burst out laughing, your head tipping back as you giggle, “You are unbelievable,”. 

“Is it working, though?” he asked, his grin turning boyish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, absolutely. You’re smooth as hell, Burrow,” you grinned. 

“I mean, I’m being serious, Y/N,” Joe said, the tone of his voice and look in his eyes shifting to something more intense. "You look...really good,".

There was something about the way he looked at you, like he was seeing you for the first time again, but in a way that made you feel seen in all the right ways. “Is that so?” you smirked, leaning back in your chair, pretending to be casual, but the heat flooding your cheeks gave you away. “What exactly about this...look is doing it for you?”.

Joe let out a low laugh, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of his wine glass as his eyes flickered between your lips and your eyes. “Honestly? Everything. The way that dress fits you? It’s like you were made to wear it. It’s...dangerous how good you look,” he said, his eyes roaming your body so incredibly slowly.

You could feel the tension rising between you, like a spark that kept threatening to catch fire. “Dangerous, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, the playful tone in your voice just barely hiding the way your body was reacting to his words. “Careful, Joe. You keep talking like that, and I might just make you regret it,”.

Joe's eyes darkened in an instant, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up to meet yours. “I don’t think I’d regret a single thing about tonight, Y/N,” he said, his voice a low growl, the flirtation clear in his tone.

A rush of heat spread through you, pooling low in your stomach as you felt the tension spark between you like static. You couldn't help but bite your lip, the pull between you two undeniable. “Mmm, well,” you said, voice just barely above a whisper, “Maybe I should keep you guessing. Who knows? You might find out if there’s something worth regretting,”.

Joe chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made your heart flutter. “Trust me,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, “You’ve got me exactly where you want me. No regrets tonight from me,".

For a second, the world around you faded away. There was nothing but the soft music in the background and the quiet hum of the restaurant, yet it felt like the two of you were in your own little bubble, the air thick with something you were both thinking, but not daring to say. The way his eyes were latched onto yours made it impossible to ignore the heat radiating between you, his confidence and attraction to you only adding to the feeling.

“So,” you said, breaking the tension with a flirtatious tilt of your head, “You think you can handle me?"

“I’m not sure I can handle you,” he murmured, his lips twitching as he felt his heart rate increase. “But god, I want to try,”.

The words hit you like a spark, igniting something inside you that had been building ever since you first locked eyes tonight. “Well," you said, voice thick with lust, “If you’re up for the challenge…,” you trailed off, letting the words linger in the air between you. The teasing smile never left your lips, but you could tell by the way Joe’s breath caught that he was feeling the same thing.

He leaned in a little closer, his thumb brushing against your knuckles before looking at you, “Oh, I’m definitely up for it,” he said, now leaning in closer to your lips, his hot breath hitting them like a rush of hot air on a cold, icy day.

But before either of you could close the gap between your lips, the sound of the door creaking open shattered the moment. A few servers entered, carrying more dishes and breaking the intense silence with the clatter of dishes. You both blinked, suddenly extracted from the magnetic pull between you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the timing, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you reached out, giving his thigh a playful tap. “Saved by the food,” you said, grinning at the adorable pout forming on his lips. His brows furrowed in mock frustration, but there was a twinkle in his eye that told you he wasn’t truly disappointed.

“Guess I’ll have to wait a little longer,” Joe teased, leaning back in his chair, his lips curling into a sly smile. But you could still see the heat in his eyes, the way his body was still subtly leaning toward you as if he were counting down the seconds until he could pick up where you left off.

“I adore your patience, Quarterback," you teased, unable to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

“All for you, babe,” Joe murmured, another spark of electricity being sent to your heart when you felt his hand squeeze your bare thigh. But as the servers set down the dishes in front of you, the tension between you both simmered just beneath the surface. You both knew it wasn’t over–not by a long shot.

—

The heated tension between you settled for a little as the two of you continued eating and chatting from everything to football to embarrassing stories from your childhood. As you got to know more about him, it was clear that Joe was just like any other guy. He may have been the star of LSU, but right now, he was just Joe. He didn’t make you feel like you were talking to the most sought out man in Louisiana, he made you feel like you were talking to him. No extra status, no other titles, just simply Joe. 

You leaned into Joe’s side, feeling his steady arm around your shoulders as you giggled at your own antics. “I can’t believe you did that,” Joe chuckled, shaking his head after you’d told him about a poor attempt to be a magician that ended in spilled juice, a ruined rug, and one very upset parent.  

“I was seven, Joe! And in my defense, the rabbit just wouldn’t cooperate,” you said, pouting slightly.  

“Sure,” he teased, his lips turning into that charming half-smile you adored. “And what about the juice? Did it jump out of your hand, too?”. 

“Whatever,” you said, trying to sound annoyed, but the laughter in your voice gave you away. 

“Your turn. What’s the most embarrassing thing little Joey B did?”.

Joe groaned, his head falling back dramatically as he laughed. “Oh, man. There’s one that my parents never let me live down,”.  

“Oh, this is going to be good,” you said, your eyes lighting up with excitement.  

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the corner of his eyes crinkling from happiness. “Okay, so I was maybe two or three, and we went to this pumpkin patch for Halloween. I guess I got a little too excited about one of the pumpkins,”.  

“Too excited?” you asked.  

He nodded, biting his lip to keep from laughing at his own story. “Yeah. I saw this big, hollowed-out pumpkin they were using as decoration, and for some reason, my brilliant little brain thought it was a great idea to crawl inside,”. 

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst out laughing. “Wait, inside? Like all the way?”  

“All the way,” Joe admitted, grinning sheepishly. “And then I got stuck. Like, really stuck. They had to tip the pumpkin over and basically pull me out by my feet,”.  

You gasped, doubling over with laughter, your hand clutching your stomach. “Joe! Oh my god! That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Little pumpkin Joe,”.  

“I know, I know,” he said, his laughter mixing with yours. “My parents even took a picture. I had pumpkin guts in my hair and everything. They still show it off every Thanksgiving…specifically when I try to take a bite of Pumpkin Pie,”.  

“That is adorable,” you said, leaning into him and looking up at him with a fond smile. “You were a tiny little pumpkin burglar. I bet you were the cutest kid,”.  

Joe laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. “I don’t know about that...but I was definitely a little menace,”.  

“Well, now I need to see that picture,” you teased, poking his side gently.  

“Not a chance,” he said, shaking his head, though his smile was soft.  

“C’mon,” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes.  

“Maybe,” he conceded, laughing when you lit up triumphantly. “But only if you promise not to bring it up every time we see a pumpkin,”.  

“No promises,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. “Pumpkin Burglar. It has a nice ring to it,”.  

He groaned, but the grin on his face told you he secretly loved how much joy the story had brought you. “Well, Ms. Houdini, I’ll have you know that Pumpkin, especially Pumpkin Pie, is my favorite thing ever. So yeah, I guess I am a Pumpkin Burglar,”.

“And I guess that makes me Ms. Houdini,” you said with a playful shrug.

Joe chuckled, leaning back slightly with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, you mean with your failed magic trick attempt? At least I made it into the pumpkin,”.

“Hey,” you opposed, narrowing your eyes at him. “I might have bombed that one, but I think the trick I’m pulling off right now is going pretty well,”.

“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his smile widening. “And what magic trick is that, Ms. Houdini?”.

You leaned in just a little, your confidence strengthened by the way he was looking at you, his attention completely yours. “Making you fall for me,” you said, your voice light but teasing, a wink punctuating your words.

Joe blinked, clearly caught off guard by your boldness, before a slow grin spread across his face. “Oh, is that what this is?” he said, his tone dropping just a little, a hint of something deeper laced through his words.

You tilted your head, matching his energy. “Is it working?”

He didn’t answer instantly, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Yes,” he admitted boldly.

A laugh left your lips before you looked at him again, “Good,” you whispered.

“What happens when the trick’s over?” he asked, his voice low, teasing but with an edge of seriousness. He was enjoying his night with you, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when it ended, what would happen if the trick ended. 

“Who says it ever ends?” you shot back, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers with his, assuring him with your touch that you were not going anywhere. 

—

A little later, as you continued sharing stories and talking until your mouths went numb, the soft tune of “Look After You” by The Fray started to fill the cozy private dining room, adding to the intimate atmosphere Joe had so carefully curated. His leg bounced nervously under the table, his fingers tapping against his thigh as the song played in the back. 

He had spent way too long thinking over the song choices when the restaurant manager asked for recommendations. Most of his picks were safe, but something had compelled him to throw this one into the mix. Now that he was actually hearing it play, he wasn’t sure if it was too much. Would you think it was too forward? Was it too soon? 

It’s not like the song was exactly…casual.

Joe was lost in his own thoughts, nearly missing the way your eyes lit up as the lyrics caught your attention. 

“Oh, oh, Be my baby, Oh, oh. It's always have and never hold, You've begun to feel like home yeah, What's mine is yours to leave or take, What's mine is yours to make your own,”. 

“Oh my god,” you said softly, a nostalgic smile forming on your face, “I love this song,”.

Joe froze for a second, his eyes darting to yours, “You do?” he asked, clearly nervous by the way his voice was slightly trembling. 

You nodded as you leaned closer, “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites. It’s so…romantic,”.

The tension dissolved from his shoulders as he leaned back in his chair, a shy grin pulling at his lips. “I thought it might be a little, uh…on the nose,” he admitted. 

You laughed softly, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm. “It’s perfect, Joey,” you assured him, your touch grounding him in a way that words couldn’t. “All the songs that you played were so perfect,”. 

“Even Mine by Taylor Swift?” he asked, raising a brow as a playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The song had played earlier, and now that he thought about it, it might’ve been a little too on the nose. He looked at you, genuinely curious.

Without hesitation, you boldly replied, “Mhm. You know why? Because you are the best thing that’s ever been mine,”. Your words were confident, but your heart raced as the weight of what you’d just said settled over you. A small part of you worried–was it too soon? Too much?

But Joe didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, his eyes softened, his expression contemplative. “Mine,” he murmured under his breath, as if he was testing the word, letting it roll off his tongue with a certain ease. The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine.

He didn’t just like the sound of it. He wanted it. He wanted you to be his–completely, fully, undeniably his. He didn’t want to share your smiles, your laughs, your love with anyone else. That word, simple as it was, held so much meaning to him.

It was only a matter of time before the two of you had that conversation. The feelings you shared were too strong to ignore, and the connection between you was so obvious that anyone nearby could feel the pull. All that was left now was for you both to be brave enough to face it, to acknowledge the love that had quietly woven itself into your hearts.

—

As the night went on, the feeling didn’t waver, it only got stronger, maybe even louder. It was the gestures, the little things he did that made you fall even harder for him, like he was all yours and was doing this just for you. 

He poured your water before you even noticed your glass was half-empty. Whenever you were talking, he gave you all his attention, his eyes glued to yours, his face tilted to you, and his arm resting around your shoulder. And the entire time you were at dinner, he never looked at his phone. He asked if you were cold, if you needed some fresh air, if you needed to use the bathroom. When you moved in your seat, he asked if you were comfortable, adjusting the chair slightly for you. “Good?” he asked, his voice so sweet it made your cheeks hotter than the sun.

“Perfect,” you replied softly, resting your head against his shoulder for just a moment, this movement making his heart skip a beat. “You’re such a gentleman, Joe Burrow,” you mumbled, smiling like a madman into his chest. 

“And you deserve nothing less,” he said under his breath before he glanced down at you, his lips curling into a small smile at the sight of how peaceful, how natural you fit next to his body. “You okay?”.

“Yeah,” you whispered, looking up at him. “Just…very comfortable,”.

It wasn’t long before you placed a soft, warm kiss against his neck, the warmth of your lips making him stiffen for a moment before relaxing into your touch. His hand, which had been resting on your shoulder, slid down to hold your hand, his thumb grazing the back of it. When you ran your hand lightly along his thigh, you felt his muscles tense, and a low laugh rumbled from his chest. “Careful,” he murmured, though the slight hitch in his breath betrayed him.

You weren’t usually this touchy feely–not on a first date. Neither was he. But something about tonight felt different. There was an enchanting, magical pull between you, a sense of comfort that got rid of any awkwardness. Neither of you could deny that the spark between you was just seconds away from fully catching on fire. 

Joe pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering this time. “You feel different,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“What do you mean?” you asked, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Just…better. Like this is supposed to be happening,” he said, his blue eyes soft as they searched yours. “Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Here, with you. Doing this with you,”. 

Your chest tightened at his words, a warmth blossoming in your heart. You felt it too–that same inexplicable connection. You leaned into him again, your head on his shoulder, and sighed contentedly. “Me too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard it. “You feel different…good different,”. 

“You know,” he started, “I didn’t think tonight would feel like this,”.

You tilted your head to look at him, your brows lifting slightly. “Like what?”.

“Like home,” he admitted, his lips curving into a small smile. “I thought it’d be fun, you know, easygoing. But being here with you? It’s more than that. It feels…right,”.

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I get that,” you said quietly, your fingers instinctively tightening around his. “It’s like…like I’ve known you forever, but also like I’m just starting to figure you out,”.

Joe nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Exactly. It’s crazy, isn’t it? How someone can just...fit into your life like they were always supposed to be there,”.

You felt your cheeks heat under his gaze, the intensity of his words making your pulse quicken. “I don’t know how you do it,” you said, your voice almost a whisper. “How you make me feel so safe and…seen,”.

His expression turned serious, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something deeper. “You deserve to feel that way,” he said firmly. “Every single day. And I–” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “I want to be the one to make sure you do,”.

Your breath hitched at his confession, the weight of his words settling in your chest. You could see it in his eyes–he wasn’t just saying this. He meant every word.

“Joe…,” you started, but the emotion in your voice made it impossible to continue.

He leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just…needed you to know,”.

You nodded, your eyes stinging with emotion as you rested your head against his shoulder again. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “For tonight. For…everything,”.

Joe smiled, his hand coming up to cradle your face gently. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “I’d do it all over again, a hundred times, just to see you smile like that,”.

And in that moment, you realized you didn’t just feel different. You felt loved. Truly, deeply loved.

—

The drive back to Joe’s apartment was a mix of anticipation and tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. The earlier first date anxiety you both had at dinner had melted as fast as your heart did when Joe wrapped his arm around your waist, his touch firm, sure, and almost heated, to lead you out to his car. It was fully dark by the time you went outside, so all the stars were on full display in the night sky above you. You think you might have rambled on about the stars and constellations for about 10 minutes, not caring that Joe was silent the entire time and you were just talking on and on about the things you learned in your astrology class. He just watched in awe, letting you nerd out in the most adorable way possible. After a certain point, you got a little insecure at his silence so you quickly stopped in the middle of your mini-lesson about the meaning behind the Cassiopeia constellation, to which he replied by dropping a lingering kiss on your cheek, then on your ear and whispered, “Keep going. Hearing you talk nerd makes you even hotter than you already are,”.  

That little comment sealed the deal. Now, there was a different kind of energy between you; it was magnetic, hot, and alluring; you could feel it in every shared glance, every quick touch. You had a taste of this energy earlier before you were interrupted by the restaurant staff who were a reminder that you two were still in public, but now that you were actually alone again, the energy was back and somehow stronger. 

Joe’s hand rested on your bare thigh, his thumb absentmindedly drawing small circles against your skin. The touch was light, yet it sent ripples of electricity through your body. He looked at you a few times, his lips curling into a soft, cheeky grin that felt both charming and inviting. The dim light of the dashboard brightened his features, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on the sharpness of his jawline and the way his adam's apple bobbed every time he swallowed.  

“He’s…so so so hot,” you thought, feeling another rush of heat to your lower belly as your eyes roamed his thick, muscular body. “The angels themselves literally crafted him from gold. I mean, look at his arms? And oh…his hand on my thigh? I wonder what it feels like to have those hands all over your body? I just want those two hands on me at all fucking times, gripping my waist, sliding up and down my arm, squeezing my ass…Or that tongue painting pictures across my skin. Damn, I need him-,”. You swore you heard the sound of a bomb exploding because of the way you froze in fear, “What.” you mumbled, startled by your own thoughts, your quiet voice being drowned out by the hum of the tires against the road which prevented him from hearing you. “Woah, Y/N. Chill out? You’re getting way too ahead of yourself, relax. He told you how he felt, but what if he wants to take it slow? Stop letting your hormones control your logic,”. 

But you couldn’t help it because Joe was just…something else. He wasn’t just sexy–though that was obvious–tonight, you saw a side of him that went beyond his looks. He was genuine, thoughtful, and comforting in ways you had never seen before. Every word he spoke, every action he took, showed just how deeply he cared, how much attention he gave to the little details that mattered to you. He was making you feel things you didn’t think you were capable of ever feeling, feelings you thought only existed in fantasies. He was a true gentleman, and all the nerves you had felt earlier seemed silly now. You couldn’t remember why you’d ever questioned this, why you’d hesitated. 

The truth was that beneath all your hesitation laid a repressed thought–something you didn’t want to admit but were now ready to accept. You were falling for him; falling for Joe Burrow in a way that terrified you, yet also filled you with a sense of peace. It wasn’t supposed to feel this safe, this right. But for the first time in your life, you felt like you didn’t need a safety net. Because you knew, no matter what, he would catch you. And that was enough to make you take the leap, headfirst, into everything he had to offer. He told you how he felt about you, he showed you how he felt about you, and now it was your turn to reciprocate the energy. But you just didn’t know exactly how to do it. 

You caught yourself staring at him for a little longer than you should have, deeply lost in your thoughts about him. He caught your gaze, the small tilt of his head prompting you to snap your head to the other side to face the window. He couldn’t help but stare at you when you weren’t looking at him. Joe’s looks at you lingered a little longer than usual, longer than he would let you see. He felt the exact same way about you, your beauty was as captivating as the night sky itself. The way your eyes twinkled in the light of the moon, the way your smile beamed brighter than the stars, the way your body fit so perfectly next to his. From your legs to your gentle thighs, to your soft belly, to your ample breasts, you were the hottest girl he had seen in all his years. He had no idea how he ended up with someone like you, who is not only beautiful physically but also beautiful as a human being. 

“I need to feel her…like everywhere. Her nails dragging across my back, her legs around my waist, fuck even her pretty mouth whispering my name in my ear. She’s so pretty and I just–,” he thought before he froze, his breath hitching in his throat when he saw you move your hair to the side, exposing the crook of your neck. “Holy shit I-. Woah, Joe. Calm down, buddy. She’s not even your girlfriend yet and you’re having those thoughts? Don’t be weird. Easy tiger,” Joe shamefully thought as he imagined your neck displaying pretty purple marks from him. Almost imagined those imaginary purple marks to be a reminder to everyone that you were his. 

Each passing thought strengthened the tension in the car. The date went great and when you left, you two were so giddy and smiley. But once you got into the car, it was silent. A silence that created a unique sense of nervousness that neither of you could understand. This unease stemmed from a shared feeling, but neither of you realized it. He told you how he felt, and despite telling you he didn’t need an answer from you immediately, he actually really wanted one now. You wanted to give it to him, but just didn’t know how. 

When he pulled into the parking lot of his building, you felt your heartbeat quicken for maybe the thousandth time tonight. As you made your way inside, hand in hand, you realized that you’d never been inside his place before, so this was kind of a big deal? And the bubbling sexual tension wasn’t making it any better, either. You’d be in there, all alone, with nobody around, in the vicinity of his private bedroom, and his bed. This could either be as innocent as a movie and some cuddling, or as dangerous as a kiss lasting too long which would turn into being trapped under his sheets (and under him) for the rest of the night. 

“Snap out of it!” you muttered out loud, prompting Joe to snap his head to you as he guided you through the lobby. 

“Hm?” he questioned, a little jittery because of the silence being broken by something as jumpy as that.

“Fuck,” you whispered, before looking up at Joe as he led you into the elevator. “Sorry, just thinking out loud about something…uh..something dumb,” you stuttered, your brain failing to find an excuse. 

Joe looked at you skeptically, his brows furrowing out of confusion. “Are you-,” he started to say before you were joined by a few other people in the elevator which infiltrated your privacy. 

You let out a sigh of relief as the elevator was now filled with the chatter of the other apartment tenants, causing Joe to lose his chance to say something because you knew if he pressed you on it too hard, you wouldn’t have an actual explanation. 

“Weird,” he thought to himself, glancing down at you and seeing you play with the birthstone ring on your finger—the ring he noticed you’d fidget with whenever you got anxious. He first noticed it when you first met at the football practice you accidentally stumbled into, and ever since then, he knew that this was an anxiety-related mechanism.  But…why were you anxious right now? Did he do something? 

“You alright?” Joe whispered, his hand giving yours a soft squeeze as he looked down at you with concern.  

The quick rise and fall of your chest betrayed your nerves, and when you looked up at him, your face didn’t exactly match your nervous reply. “Y- yeah,” you said, the tone in your voice and the way you avoided his eyes told a different story.  

Joe tilted his head, “Are you sure? Because you look–,”.  

The ding of the elevator interrupted him, the doors sliding open to reveal his floor.  

“C’mon,” you cut him off, pulling him out of the elevator and into the dimly lit hallway before he could finish.  

Joe followed, his confusion only growing. You weren’t being subtle about dodging his concern, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had you so wound up all of a sudden.  

When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, you were met by a space that felt unexpectedly personal, almost cozy. The first thing that caught your eye was how much of him was infused into the apartment.  

It was clean but lived-in, with just enough mess to make it feel normal. A framed Athens high school jersey hung proudly on one wall, with a shelf of football memorabilia that added a subtle touch of his career so far. Near his small dining table, a Kid Cudi poster stood out against the neutral walls, its vibrant colors hinting at his taste in music.  

Photos of him from his childhood, some with his parents, and some with his friends adorned the walls and little corner of the room. He seemed to enjoy displaying his most cherished memories and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever find a photo of the two of you in here one day. You knew how much he valued these relationships, but seeing his value for them made that thought hit even harder. 

Your eyes moved to the kitchen island, where a stack of science books sat next to a neatly folded dish towel. “Science books?” you thought to yourself, the detail catching you off guard in the best way. And then there was the Squidward sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch–a hilariously unexpected contrast to the more polished parts of the room.  

You smiled, taking it all in. “Equally as nerdy as sporty. I love it,” you said, letting your eyes roam the space.  

Joe set his keys down and turned toward you, his lips twitching into a grin. “You love it?”. 

“Yeah,” you said, turning to face him fully. “Nothing about this screams football player bachelor pad. It’s…you. And I love that,”.  

His smile softened, his gaze lingering on you for a moment. “I guess I wanted it to feel like home,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I am pretty far from Ohio so I thought to make this home just like what I had there. I’m glad you think it does,”.  

You nodded, letting the sweetness of his words settle over you as you stepped further into the apartment. The nervous energy that had taken over you in the elevator was starting to fade away, replaced by something quieter and more intimate as you realized just how much of himself Joe had let you see.  

“Make yourself comfortable,” Joe said, the intimacy of the space wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You couldn’t tell if it was the apartment that felt homey, or Joe himself. He grabbed a couple of waters from the kitchen before gesturing toward his bedroom.  

You hesitated, glancing at the door to his room and then back to him, the look on your face as if he had just told you to strip naked and lay out on his bed for him.

“Don’t worry,” he teased, catching your expression. “Just a movie. I promise,”.  

You laughed nervously as he walked over to you and led you to his room, thinking, “Can we not watch it on the couch? Why his room. Am I being punished by the universe for something?”. You didn’t know how this would go–your hormones were all over the place and being so close to him on his bed was just a recipe for disaster. 

When you made it inside his bedroom, you were instantly attracted to his bed–large, inviting, and neatly made with a navy blue comforter that seemed to mirror the color of his eyes. Even his room was clean? Either he did all this for you or he really was the complete opposite of the football player stereotype. There was only a little mess: some piles of clothes, textbooks scattered on his table along with what looked like his football notebook, and some empty water bottles. 

He motioned for you to sit, and you settled on the edge, feeling a mix of nervous excitement and comfort as your eyes scanned the new surroundings. 

He busied himself by setting up the movie–Spiderman: Homecoming–but as it started, neither of you paid any attention. Instead, the conversation from dinner picked back up effortlessly. You eventually lay side by side on his bed after he playfully dragged you up to him by your wrist, the faint glow of the TV illuminating the soft curve of his cute smile. But despite your giggling and silly joking, the electricity in the air from earlier returned. Every accidental brush of his arm against yours sent a jolt through you, and every time your knees bumped, your breath stopped. For the most part, you were doing great at keeping your cool, but you couldn’t help but feel the urge to finish what you started at dinner; to address the electricity humming between your bodies.

“So, do you ever get tired of being the golden boy?” you asked, changing the subject of the conversation from which Marvel superhero you’d want in your corner during the apocalypse. His answer was Wolverine because of his healing abilities and no half-dead human had shit on his claws. Your answer was Spiderman because of his webs, duh, but Joe disagreed and said his heroicness and need to save everyone would get him killed faster than he could swing out of danger. You went back and forth about it for almost 10 minutes before Joe took out the pillow from under his head and smothered you with it to get you to stop yapping about your Marvel crush, your giggles and shrieking filling the room.

Amidst the chaos, you noticed the calendar on his desk, filled with colorful notes that showed his busy schedule. Each day had clear markings for practice days, upcoming games, and other football events. Tonight’s date stood out with a small red heart, suggesting something special. You couldn't help but wonder if he ever wanted a break from his packed schedule–a moment to relax and breathe in the middle of the constant demands of the sport he loved.

“Golden boy? Is that what you think I am?” he questioned. 

You nudged his shoulder gently as you played with the wristbands on his wrist, your heart melting as you saw the football ones. “Well, you’re extremely talented, ridiculously good-looking, and everyone loves you. If the shoe fits…,”.

Joe leaned into you slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Ridiculously good-looking, huh? I think I like where this is going,”.

“Oh, stop it,” you giggled and rolled your eyes. “I just mean that ever since you got here, the spotlight’s been on you nonstop. That didn’t happen to you back at Ohio State. It must be different, right? Even difficult? You can’t go anywhere or do anything without random people coming up to you, and you have all this football stress on your shoulders too. I just wonder if it ever gets tiring. You never get a break, like it’s all football all the time. I don’t think I’d be able to survive what you do if I never got any peace and quiet,”. 

He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers soft and gentle. The gesture was simple, but the affection in his touch made your heart flutter. “It does get tiring,” he said, his voice fainter now, almost as if he removed a layer from his words and was completely bare in front of you, “But I do get peace and quiet time. A lot more than you’d think, actually,”. 

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? I don’t think watching an episode of The Office at your locker before practice is classified as peace and quiet time, Joey,”. 

Joe chuckled, “That’s not the peace and quiet time I’m talking about. I’m talking about…you, Y/N”.

Oh. 

Ohhh. 

There it was. Those butterflies. They were blossoming in your stomach again, this time the feeling of them was stronger than they’d ever been before. Your eyes softened, your fingers pausing their fidgety movements as you inched them further down to clutch his. “Joe, I-,”.

“The time I spend with you…it's like everything else fades away,” Joe said, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “You’re my peace and quiet, you know that? When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t matter–football, school, the whole Golden Boy thing. It all just…disappears,”.

His words made your chest tighten, a warmth blooming in your heart as you searched his face. There was something so raw in the way he looked at you, so open and vulnerable. You could see it in his eyes, the way they softened whenever they met yours. “You have this way of grounding me,” he continued, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Just by being you. I don’t even think you realize it, but you calm me in a way no one else ever has. It’s like…I can finally breathe when I’m with you. I can stop hiding behind the helmet,”.

You felt your eyes well up, the sincerity in his voice hitting you right in the heart. “Joe,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you placed your other hand over his. “You don’t know what that means to me,”.

Being his calm, his peace? That meant the world to you and he had no idea. This was exactly why, every time someone asked about your relationship and you mentioned how short a time you’d known each other, it felt almost laughable. Because time didn’t explain any of this. Time didn’t explain the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room. It didn’t explain the way he instinctively knew when you needed reassurance, a touch, or just the sound of his voice saying your name. His actions told a different story–like you’d known each other for a lifetime. 

He smiled, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek before it could fall. “I don’t think you know what you mean to me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get so heavy but I mean it. You’re my safe space, my escape from everything. You’re not just someone I like spending time with–you’re the reason I look forward to everything now. You’ve become my favorite person, Y/N,”.

His words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it in the best way. You couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down your cheek, but this time you didn’t care. “I don’t even know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. The shift in the energy from electric, to giddy, to soft was giving you whiplash–but you loved it. It almost mirrored your relationship with Joe; a plethora of emotions and feelings that had you swooning for him.

Joe shook his head, leaning in closer so his forehead rested against yours. He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours, “Just…stay. Be here with me. That’s all I’ll ever need,”.

You nodded, your hand slipping to the back of his neck as you pulled him into a soft, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke everything you couldn’t put into words–a kiss that said I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, and I feel the same way.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles. “I don’t care about anything else when I’m with you,” he said, his voice so full of love it made your heartache. “As long as I’ve got you, everything else is just…noise,”.

You smiled through your watery eyes, leaning into his touch. “You’ve got me, Joe. Always,” you promised, your voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. 

“I love what I do, trust me. But none of this is worth it, none of this is important if I don’t have someone to share it with,” he said, his hand settling on your hip and almost dragging you closer to him. His touch felt needy rather than soft. 

Despite being one of the most talented players in college football, Joe never let the accolades, titles, or prestige define him. That wasn’t who he was. Instead, he displayed himself in the values that truly mattered–his actions, his words, his thoughts. And tonight, with what he had just told you, he had proven that all over again. It wasn’t the grandeur of his achievements that made your heart race; it was him. The way he saw the world, the way he saw his world, the way he saw you.

“And I want to share it with you. Only you. All of this right now and whatever the future brings, whether I go to the NFL or am stuck with some boring 9 to 5. I just want you with me. I don’t know what the future holds, all of this could fade away in the blink of an eye. But the one thing I’m sure about is you. Hell, you might be the only thing I’m sure about,” he confessed, his shoulders releasing the last bit of tension he had inside his body now that he’d told you everything he wanted to. Well…mostly everything. 

You stared at him, unable to pull your gaze away because of what he just said to you. His eyes–lazy yet strikingly alert–held yours like they were trying to say something else his lips hadn’t quite figured out yet. You saw his eyes drop down to your lips here and there, you also felt his fingers slowly moving up and down your waist in a way that was far from innocent. There was a depth there, a feeling he wasn’t used to sharing so quickly but couldn’t seem to help when it came to you.

It hit you then, like a slow, steady wave.

He wanted you. No, he needed you. So much so that he couldn’t quite understand how he’d managed all these years without you by his side…without you in his arms. 

And the truth was, you felt the exact same way.

“Fuck it,” you thought as he saw your eyes darken, and before he could process what you were doing, your lips were on his. The kiss was hesitant at first, a gentle exploration to see if he’d reciprocate the feeling, but the hunger beneath it grew quickly. His hand found its way to your cheek, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with increasing passion. 

He didn’t want to take it slow, and neither did you.  

Your fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as your heart pounded in your chest. His weight shifted, and he pressed you back against the bed, his body shifting to align with yours. The feel of him, solid and warm, made your head spin. The heat pooling in your panties was hard to ignore, so when he acknowledged it, you felt him smirk into your lips.  

But just as the heat between you threatened to consume you both, Joe pulled back suddenly. His breathing was uneven, his face just inches from yours. His hands trembled slightly as they cupped your face, his thumbs brushing softly over your skin. “I don’t do this on the first date,” he said, his voice hoarse and raspy in a way that made your knees weak. “I just…I don’t want you to think this is all I want. Because it’s not. You’re not just a way for me to get laid. I really, really like you,”.

His words wrapped around you, melting away any lingering doubt. You reached up, your fingers brushing softly along his jawline, the vibe of the moment reflected in your gentle smile. “Joe,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned up to press your lips against his, “It’s okay. I don’t do this on the first date either. But with you…everything feels easy. Like I don’t have a care in the world. Like I don’t want to have a care in the world,”,

You gave into the electricity sparking between you, knowing that if you didn’t, you’d regret it for the rest of your life. The words that had been dancing on your tongue all night, scrambling to find their footing, had finally found their rhythm. 

Your eyes searched his, the intensity of your emotions pouring out with every word. “Everything you just said to me…I feel it too. You see me in a way no one else ever has, and in a way no one else ever will. You make me feel safe–so safe–and loved in a way I didn’t even know I was searching for. I love your world and being a small part of it, getting a glimpse of what it’s like, has been the most exciting experience of my life,”. A soft pause settled between you, but it was full of meaning, your heart swelling as you continued. “You’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for, Joe. And now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to let go. I can’t let go. I want you. All of you. And I’m more than okay with this…with us. I want us.”.

“You mean it?” he asked you, his eyes softening at your confession. 

You gave him a smirk and trailed your hand from his soft hair down his back, slipping your fingers under his shirt and lightly scraping your nails along the chiseled expanse of his skin. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, and then you pressed your lips against his to share the warmth he needed. You pulled at his bottom lip, tugging and nipping in a way that revealed your internal desires, “That answer your question?” you asked him after you pulled away. 

Relief washed over his face, and he leaned in to kiss you again, hungrier this time, even slower so he could taste every single inch of you. “Hell yeah,” he smirked as he kissed you. His hands roamed your body with need, each touch more rougher than the last as if he physically couldn’t let go of you let alone want to. “I’ve wanted to do this the second I saw you in this dress,” he whispered, his big hands sliding all along your body over the silky fabric. His touch set each part of your skin ablaze, a fiery path being traced on your body as he grabbed and squeezed anything he could. 

“Please, if you knew the thoughts…mmph, going through my..mm..head on the drive over…ah…here,” you mumbled, his kisses forcibly making you pause in between your words. 

He pulled away from you, his face hovering above yours as he eyes had this raw, unfiltered need in them. A look you hadn’t ever seen in his eyes before, but a look that had you wanting him to consume every part of you. “You shoulda told me then and there,” he smirked. “I could’ve pulled over and fucked you in the back seat of my car if you were that horny,”. 

Your breath hitched at his words, your cheeks turning red as his smirk deepened. “Joe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both embarrassment and arousal. 

“What?” he teased, his lips brushing against yours but never quite closing the distance. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have liked it, baby. The thought of you in my backseat, those pretty legs spread just for me…,”. He groaned softly, his hands sliding down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed you firmly against him. “I’d have taken my time with you, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. “Spreading you out across the seats, my hands gripping these perfect thighs…,” he paused, his grip tightening as if imagining it. “You’d be begging for me to go faster, harder. But I’d make you wait–make you feel every single second of it,”.

You whimpered, your head falling back as his lips traveled to the sensitive spot on your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Joe,” you breathed, your fingers clutching his biceps, needing something to anchor yourself. 

“Yeah, baby,” he groaned, his teeth nipping your skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. “I can just picture you, your back arched, those gorgeous lips of yours moaning my name while I ruin you in the back of my car,”.

Your heart raced, the mental image combined with his low, raspy voice making your knees weak. “Why didn’t we do that?” you managed to say, your voice shaky.

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you against him. “Because I wanted to have you like this,” he said, his hips pressing against yours, emphasizing his words. “In my bed, where I could take my time and really show you just how crazy you drive me,”. His eyes locked onto yours, blazing with intensity. “But don’t think for a second I won’t make good on that backseat fantasy someday,” he promised, his voice rough with need. “Because, baby, I’ve got plans for you. So many fucking plans,”.

A shiver ran down your spine at the images his words painted. God, you would’ve loved for him to have his way with you in the back seat of his car. The thrill, the secrecy, the alertness…oh that would have driven you wild. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice betrayed you, dripping with need. The way his entire mood seamlessly switched from soft to drop-dead sexy? Oh yeah, you were in for a damn treat.

“Am I?” he challenged, dipping his head to kiss along your jawline, his lips hot and determined against your skin. “Or am I just saying what you’ve been thinking all night?” his teeth grazed your earlobe, and you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Joe,” you moaned, arching into him, your body responding to every word, every touch. “God, you’re driving me insane,”.

“That’s the idea, baby,” he murmured against your neck, his voice husky. His hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he settled deeper between your legs. “So, tell me,” he whispered, his lips trailing lower. “What exactly were you thinking about? Hm? Tell me what you wanted me to do to you,”.

Your breathing was erratic as you tried to find the words. “I…I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands,” you confessed, your voice shaking but honest. “The way you touch me, like you can’t get enough of me…I wanted them everywhere,”.

His groan was throaty, his hands gripping you even tighter. “Fuck, baby,” he rasped. “You don’t know what you do to me,” his lips found yours again, this time with a desperation that matched the fire building between you. His hips pressed against yours, his hardness evident through the thin layers of clothing separating you. “You want my hands everywhere?” he breathed against your lips, his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, dragging it up slowly. “Then you’ll get them everywhere,”.

Joe’s hands roamed higher, sliding up the smooth skin of your thighs, his touch igniting a fire that made your entire body ache with need. The anticipation was unbearable as his fingers teased the edge of your panties, his lips curving into a devilish smirk against your neck. “You’re already so wet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “All for me, huh?”

“All for you,” you breathed, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt, desperate for more.

He pressed his hips against yours, grinding slowly, the friction making your head tilt back against the pillows. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, lovey,” he said, his breath hot against your ear. “The way you moan my name, the way you look at me like you need me as much as I need you…fuck,”.

“I do need you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Joe, please. I need you now,”.

His eyes darkened, his restraint clearly slipping as he pulled back just enough to strip off his shirt, revealing his toned chest and the light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. “Say it again,” he said, his voice commanding but soft, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties.

“I need you, Joe,” you repeated, your gaze locked on his, your voice laced with a mix of desperation and desire.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, tugging your panties down and tossing them aside. His hands returned to your body, exploring every inch of exposed skin as if he couldn’t get enough. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, leaving you breathless.

As the remaining layers of clothing were peeled away, there was a rush, an urgency–the two of you needed to feel each other in a way that felt as natural as breathing. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their path, while his hands explored every curve, every inch of skin, as if he was trying to memorize you by touch alone. He was so gentle with you yet so in control, talking you through every little thing, letting you know he was here with you, how beautiful you were, and how much he wanted this with you. The way he looked at you, seeing you completely bare for the first time, was burned into your memory. You thought he couldn’t get any more perfect, but he just continues to prove you wrong every time. 

When he pushed into you, the world seemed to blur, leaving only him–his eyes locked on yours, his whispered words of reassurance and adoration keeping you stable. He moved with a rhythm that was equally as passionate as it was controlled–but you didn’t want him to be controlled. His forehead brushed against yours as he murmured your name like a prayer. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered, his voice shaky but steady. “You feel so good, fuck,”.

You threw your head back into the pillow as you felt his cock push into your core, exploring you in the most delicious way possible. “Joe. Harder, fuck me harder,” you whimpered, needing to feel him moving against you with no restraints. 

“Y- you sure, beautiful?” he asked, your hands sliding down his sweaty back and into his hair. He was a little hesitant, not wanting to hurt you or push you too far since this was the first time you two were having sex. 

“Y- yes, please,” you breathed, your voice shaky with need as your eyes fluttered open. When they met his, blown wide with lust, it was like a spark igniting a fire. The sight of his messy hair sticking to his forehead, the blush painting his cheeks, and the heat of his breath mingling with yours–it was intoxicating, a perfect cocktail of everything that was Joe.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay? I need to know you’re okay,” he asked you before pressing a few featherlight kisses along your jaw. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in his damp hair, giving it a soft tug that made him groan. “I want this. I want you,”.

And then, as if that’s all he needed to hear, Joe’s restraint snapped like a tight spring, letting the hunger he had been holding back take over. His hips drove into yours with a need that made your entire body burn, your back arching as the intensity of his movements overwhelmed your senses. Each thrust sent shockwaves through you, his grip on your hips firm and commanding like he was staking his claim on every inch of you.

“You drive me crazy,” he growled against your skin, his voice thick with desire as his lips left a scorching path of wet kisses down your neck. “So fucking crazy, you know that?”, his teeth grazed your collarbone, drawing a sharp gasp from you that only seemed to urge him on. His hands explored your body with a possessive hunger like he was memorizing every curve, every dip, every place that made you tremble.

“Joe,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair again and pulling, a low, guttural sound escaping him as your nails raked across his scalp. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop,”.

“Never,” he rasped, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so desperate and raw it left you breathless. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinning yours above your head so that he had you completely under his control, his body pressing into yours as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t have enough of you. “I need you, baby. I’ve needed you for so long,” he confessed, his voice breaking, his movements growing rougher, more frenzied.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the sound he made in response sent a delicious shiver through you. “Harder,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. No matter how much he gave you, you wanted more. “Fuck, Joe. Harder,”.

His eyes locked on yours, wild and glassy, as he delivered exactly what you asked for. His hips snapped against yours with relentless precision, every thrust sending you spiraling higher. His headboard banged against his wall, the bed beneath you creaking nonstop at the force of his thrusts. “God, you feel so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his forehead falling against yours. “You’re taking it so well, baby. Damn, where have you b- been all my life,”.

“Right here,” you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as your body arched again to meet his. “Right here, Joe. Always yours,”. 

His breath hitched at your words, a groan spilling from his lips as his hips drove into you harder, deeper. The force of his movements made the headboard slam louder, but neither of you cared–the world outside that room didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, tangled in this moment, raw and unrestrained. You quite literally have never felt like this. None of the other guys you’d been with prior to Joe were this good, this attentive to what you liked. The way his cock was hitting every sweet spot inside you, pushing you beyond the limits you’d set yourself felt otherworldly. He was the best you’d ever had. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough and breathless as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His lips found your pulse, pressing kisses that sent shivers coursing through your body. “You’re everything, everything I’ve ever needed,”. Joe couldn’t get enough of you, enough of the way you were letting him care for you, enough of the way you were reacting to him. He just couldn’t–. 

“Joe,” you whimpered, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him closer and snapping him out of his daze. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,”.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice shaking with the feel of the moment. His hands slid down to your hips, holding you firmly as he angled himself deeper, his pace unrelenting yet filled with so much love it made your heartache. “I’m not stopping, baby. Not until you have everything,”. 

His words sent you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room like a melody. “Joe. Joe. Joee,” you moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the force of your high. 

“Oh, fuck–,” he moaned at the sound of you whimpering his name, the feel of your walls clenching around him even more enticing than he imagined. “I’m gonna cum,” he said, his grip tightening around your hips as he pounded into you even harder.

“Oh,” you hissed, feeling his cock hit your sweet spot over and over which made the aftershocks of your high feel like pure bliss in your veins. “D- don’t pull out, Joey,” you panted, meeting his eyes once again. 

He looked up at you, his face a mixture of amusement and confusion. “W- what?” he panted, his thrusts becoming uneven which signaled that he was so close. 

“I’m on the pill. I don’t care,” you smiled at him, using your hand to brush back a few of his slick curls before planting a kiss on his chin. “Do whatever you want to me,”. 

Joe's eyes darkened at your words, a low groan ripping from his throat as he buried himself even deeper inside you. “Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “You’re gonna be the death of me,”. 

You smiled lazily at him, your body trembling under his as you reached up to cup his cheek. “It’s a great way to die then,” you whispered, your voice dripping with desire. 

That was all it took to send him over the edge. His hips slammed into yours with desperate urgency, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he chased his release. “Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as his body tensed. “That’s my g- girl,”. As he stilled, his body shaking against yours, you could feel the warmth of him filling you, the new sensation sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through your body. His lips found yours in a messy, heated kiss, his breath mixing with yours as he tried to come down from the high. Sounds of skin-hitting skin were soon replaced by heavy breathing and the remnants of your climaxes.  

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you panting and completely lost in the haze. His hands loosened their grip on your hips, moving to gently trace circles on your sides. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with concern.

You smiled up at him, your fingers threading through his damp curls. “Better than okay,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his. “You?”.

A grin spread across his face, that boyish charm shining through despite the flush in his cheeks. “Never better,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips before trailing down to your jawline and collarbone. “You’re incredible, you know that?”.

You giggled softly, your hands sliding to rest on his shoulders. “So are you, Joey. So are you,”.

He collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with ease. Even after going at it like rabid bunnies, he still had all his strength in him? Damn. The weight of his body against yours, the sound of his heartbeat under your ear–it was perfect. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you’d be the death of me,” he said, his tone teasing but his expression completely serious. 

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with affection. “Good,” you replied with a smirk, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon,”. 

“Promise?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Promise,” you said, sealing it with another kiss, one that felt like you were kissing each other's hearts. “Where have you been all my life?” you whispered, your voice shaky but laced with affection as you nuzzled into his chest.

He smiled against your hair, his arms tightening around you. “Right here,” he murmured, echoing your words from earlier, “Waiting for you,”. 

Your breath hitched, and before you could say something, he continued, “You’re one of a kind, Y/N…one of a kind. Which is why…,” he paused, taking a deep breath as his face turned serious. “I want you to be my girlfriend,” he said, searching your eyes for an immediate reaction. “You’re rare…so fucking rare. It’s rare to meet a person like you in this life. And now that I have you, I don’t want to let you go. I know it hasn’t been that long since we’ve known each other, but I seriously have never been so sure about something in my entire life. I meant what I said about you being my peace and quiet. I need that peace and quiet every morning…every night…every week…every year…every time before a game…every time after a game…every time I need someone who can make everything around me disappear. I need someone like you, baby. Someone so perfect, someone who lights up my world the way you do. You’re the one who hangs the stars in my galaxy, the one who completes it,” he added, completely sure of what he was saying but suddenly feeling doubtful because of your blank, emotionless expression. 

“Oh shit. I just scared her, didn’t I?” he instantly thought to himself, realizing how heavy his words were. 

You continued to stare at him in silence, a flurry of butterflies swirling through your stomach and tickling your heart. You couldn’t believe this was real, that he was real. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck, I just ruined this, didn’t I? You probably want to take it slow and steady, which is fair because again, we just met not too long ago. And you’re probably stressed about the whole dating a football player thing, which is also fair but I swear I’m not like the other guys. Oh my god. Please don’t think I’m pushing you too fast or…trying to be smooth about this because we had sex…which might I say, it was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had. Wait, what the fuck am I saying? I swear I–,” he rambled in a panic before you leaned up and mashed your lips against his to shut him up. 

His words were cut off by your lips, and he could feel you smiling into him as your chest rumbled from laughter. His nervousness from the dinner date was back, and you couldn’t help but admire how cute he got when he was unsure about something and got in his head. You pulled away, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion as his lips parted to say something, but before he could, you said, “You’re my boyfriend.”. 

“Wait, what?” Joe asked even though he heard you loud and clear. 

“I said…” you began before dropping another kiss to his lips. You pulled away and continued, “You.” then placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Are.” and then a kiss to his chin., “My.” then a kiss to his cheek, “Boyfriend.” you finished, ending the sentence with one more kiss to his plump lips. 

“You mean it?” he asked, genuinely needing you to reassure him because right now, it felt like he was dreaming.

You giggled, and the sound made Joe smile even harder than he already was. “I mean it one thousand percent, Boyfriend. You are all mine, and I am all yours. Completely, utterly, and irrevocably yours. You feel that electricity between us? That’s enough to prove to me that this is different. That you’re different,” you grinned. “You pulled out all the stops for tonight from the dress to the flowers and smarties–which had me on the floor by the way–and then everything at dinner, and now this? God, you’re like the perfect boyfriend, like the heart throbs in the movies. I know that you genuinely care about me and like me, you’ve shown me that since the day we met. And I really like you too, Joe. And I won’t lie when I say that this feels a little risky, but you’re a risk I’m willing to take. You know why? Because you make me feel alive, safe, and so damn loved. With you I'd dance in a storm, in my best dress, at any given time,”. 

“God, I’m so obsessed with you,” he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your cheek, and before you knew it, he was leaning down to kiss you again, the heat between you reigniting like a flame. “I promise I won’t make you regret this. I promise I’ll make you feel loved until I physically can’t anymore. I promise I won’t let anything hurt you,”. 

“And I’m going to hold you to it,” you mumbled between the kiss, letting your body reciprocate those words to him. The way it was responding to his touch was everything he needed to know; the subtle hooking of your leg around his waist, the graze of your nails along his bicep, and the way you were pushing up into him. “I promise I’m…going to be right there with you,” you whispered as he moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, slowly kissing his way down your glistening body. 

This time, the passion was unrestrained, the desire to feel each other again consuming you both completely. You could feel the growing urge to have each other like that again, and lucky for both of you, you two were so down bad to say no.

“Round two?” you teased, threading your fingers into his hair and pulling his face back to yours. 

Joe looked at you and laughed, then slithered his hands around your hips and easily flipped you onto your back, prompting a shriek from your lips. “Anything for my girlfriend,”.  

“Fantastic,” you shot back with a grin, pulling him down for another kiss. “I think your girlfriend deserves to be reminded of how much you care about her,” you teased before he locked lips with you once again, then used his hand to pull the sheets over you both. 

End of flashback 

“He hasn’t changed a single bit since LSU,” you giggled, your heart fluttering at how thoughtful and romantic his little gestures were. 

Your eyes moved down to the other sticky note, this one reading,

P.S. made you breakfast before i left. your strawberry mango protein smoothie is waiting in the fridge 

to be loved is to be seen, and i see you. always have, and always will. 

j.b 

“Joe,” you whispered, your eyes softening at his last sentence. 

He saw you. He always saw you. He saw your anxieties, he saw your worries, but he also saw your smile, your happiness, your love for him. When he woke up this morning, he knew how awful the past day, past weeks have been for you. And it was all because of his current situation. When he looked at you, all he could see was the worry in your eyes and the hesitation in every word that left your mouth. He needed to do something to bring back that smile, that unwavering happiness that he fell in love with. 

And you felt the same way about him. When you looked at him, all you saw was his self doubt, his fear of failing. You couldn’t see his confidence, his resilience anymore. Nobody could understand his internal struggles, not even you. But you sure as hell weren’t going to let them push you out. 

And then as you stared at the sticky notes—a reminder of Joe and his adorable little gestures, you got an idea. One that could make him feel better, open up, and allow him to relax with you. 

“He’s gone for a few hours, right? What if I do a little lunch date at home for him?” you asked yourself, already pulling out your phone to get started on the idea. This was a great way for him to unwind, for him to feel at ease after how awful the past few days had been for him. And it was also a great way for the two of you to spend time together, the time you’d been craving since football started back up. You both always thrived when it was just the two of you, in those little quiet moments that had you both feeling like you were back in college and didn’t have a care in the world. He was always so relaxed then, even though he was balling out and had the entire state of Louisiana breathing down his neck. He still managed to let loose, give himself some breathing room, a chance to be open despite the weight he had on his shoulders. Ever since he came into the NFL, it’s like there was no room for error for him, no room for him to show his emotions and be vulnerable. And when he did, he felt guilty about it because he felt like he was burdening everyone–especially you–with his feelings. 

—

After finishing up your morning routine and enjoying the delicious smoothie he made for you, you got started on planning your surprise for him. You remembered him mentioning just last week, how he was craving Mexican food. That was all the inspiration you needed. You placed an order for his favorites from your usual go-to Mexican spot downtown, imagining the way his face would light up at the sight of the spread. 

But you didn’t stop there. Knowing Joe, you wanted to add a little something extra–a surprise he’d never expect. You remembered the way he’d lit up talking about The Office Lego set he’d been eyeing for months but never seemed to have a reason for buying it for himself. He always listened to your mindless ramblings about things that caught your eye that you’d never buy for yourself–jewelry, clothes, shoes, bags–and always made sure to buy them for you as soon as he had the chance to. He didn’t ever need a reason to spoil his girl. That was one of the things you loved about him, he was always listening to you even when you thought he wasn’t. You did the same for him, so a few clicks later, the Legos were on their way to come just in time for your lunch date. 

By the time everything was ready, the scene was nearly perfect: the food bags on the living room table, the Lego set placed beside them, and you impatiently waiting for him to come home. But as you sat there on the couch, looking at the setup, something felt off–like it was missing a little magic.

You tilted your head, thinking, and then it hit you like a spark of nostalgia.

A blanket fort.

A grin rose on your face as the memory of those cozy, rainy days you’d spent with Joe came rushing back–days when the two of you would build blanket forts and lose track of time, laughing, snacking, and just being kids at heart. “Oh, hell yeah,” you said to yourself, already gathering pillows and blankets, determined to recreate that same magic. 

If there was one thing Joe loved more than food and Legos, it was the kind of thoughtfulness that made the simplest moments memorable. And you were about to do just that.

You grabbed a few dining room chairs, every plush blanket you could find, and a variety of cloud-like pillows, determined to create the ultimate cozy cave. Piece by piece, you began making your little fort, carefully lining up the chairs and draping the blankets across them with skill. You built a sturdy wall of pillows to keep it snug and inviting, even moving the lamp inside to give it a warm, comfy glow. After a few adjustments to make sure everything was stable, you stepped back to admire your work. The soft light lit up the cozy space, the blankets creating a cocoon of comfort that practically begged to be crawled into. It was perfect–inviting, intimate, and filled with the kind of charm you knew Joe would love.

“I really hope he likes this,” you mumbled to yourself, wanting nothing more than for him to be able to come home and just relax for the first time all week. Your thoughtfulness knew no limits, and Joe always appreciated the hell out of that so you knew he’d like everything you did for him no matter what. 

A few minutes later, as you were carefully placing the food and Lego set inside of the fort, you heard the garage door open, a sign that Joe was finally home. You heard the clank of the keys hitting the kitchen island, and the muffled sounds of him slipping his shoes off, and then his soft voice breaking through the silence, “Baby? I’m home. You in here?” he called out, not seeing the blanket fort in yet. 

“Over here!” you yelled, peeking your head out from the little cave and waving him over. 

He furrowed his brows, a little confused at what you were doing, as he walked over to the couch. You noticed that he had something in his hand, a few bags that made your eyes widen: Taco Bell, Bath & Body Works, and Sephora? “What’s all this?” Joe laughed, seeing the architectural masterpiece that was your little blanket fort. 

“What’s all that?” you shot back, pointing at all the bags in his hand. 

Joe chuckled, setting the bags down on the table and glancing between you and the fort. “This? Just a little pick-me-up for my favorite person,” he said casually, but the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed how much thought he’d put into it. “I felt bad about last night, and everything that happened at the game, and just…, you know, not being around as much lately. Figured I’d spoil you a little tonight,”.

You felt your heart squeeze, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like one of the soft blankets in your fort. “Joe,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection. You quickly came out of the fort and stood up, his opening arms making room for you as usual. “That’s exactly why I did all this,” you gestured toward the fort with a small smile as his arms held you tightly against his warm chest. 

He looked at you for a moment, his expression softening as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “You did all this for me?” he asked, his lips forming a little pout.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Last night…was rough…,” you began. 

“In more ways than one,” Joe teased, his hand sliding down to your ass and giving it a little squeeze, reminding you just how rough things got last night. 

“Right, in more ways than one,” you giggled. “It was rough and well, everything that happened during the game and you know, the game itself? I just thought you could use some time to relax and just be…Joe. Time for us to just be…us. I’ve missed you,” you sighed, the heaviness of the entire situation still bugging you. “I got you the Mexican food you’ve been craving all week, that Lego set you had your eye on, and topped it all off with the blanket fort. Just like old times,” you said, pressing a kiss to his chest.  

Joe leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I’ve missed you too,” he mumbled, his heart aching at the confession. 

He missed you–missed how easy and comfortable things felt in moments like this. The off-season had been full of moments like these, where it was just the two of you with no rush or stress. But ever since football started, those moments had just…disappeared. He missed the times when it wasn’t about games or busy schedules–just Joe and Y/N, together, feeling at home.

“Thank you for doing this. You always know how to get through to me even when I try to push you away,” he said, his hand moving up your body to cradle the back of your head. He pulled your head back and looked into your eyes briefly, trying to see if you had the same look as you did last night–the tension, the worry, and the fear. It was there, but only bits and pieces; meaning last night worked and everything he had planned for tonight was going to fully push those feelings out the door. 

“I promised you that I’d always be there for you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to stop me, okay?” you smiled, your hands moving up and resting on each side of his neck. 

“I know,” he nodded. “That’s why I love you. You never back down from a fight,”. 

“Exactly,” you smiled up at him, feeling the familiar rush of love that seemed to grow every time you were with him. “Looks like you had your own cozy day-in planned too, didn’t you?” you said, pulling away slightly to glance at the bags. “Taco Bell and Sephora? That’s quite the combo,”.

He grinned, “I know you love those little face masks andddd I also found that pedicure kit you’ve been wanting, so I thought maybe you would enjoy making me look like an alien later tonight and we can do those together. And, well, Taco Bell is my apology for taking so long to make time for this. Guilty pleasure foods are the way to your heart, that I know for a fact,”,

You laughed, shaking your head, “You are perfect, Joe Burrow. You know that? So damn perfect at being the world’s best boyfriend,”.

He glanced at the fort again, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Not as perfect as this. A blanket fort? I’m starting to think I’m the luckiest guy alive. I mean, not only do I have the world's greatest blanket fort in front of me right now, but I also have a smokin’ hot wif–...girlfriend, waiting for me every time I come home,”.

“Shit, almost slipped up there. Not yet, Joe. Just a little longer. The wait will be worth it,” he thought to himself. 

You skipped right over his little slip-up and burst into laughter. “Easy there, Burrow. Your girlfriend is still recovering from last night. Give her some time to bounce back, would ya?” you teased, a playful grin spreading across your face. 

Joe’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as he dropped his head onto your shoulder, his embarrassment absolutely adorable. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shirt. “Guess I got a little carried away,”.

You gently pulled him back so you could meet his eyes, the corners of your lips tugging into a smirk. “Don’t you dare apologize for being ridiculously good at making your girlfriend feel like she’s on cloud nine,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his warm cheek as your fingers found their way into his hair.

His laugh bubbled out and his eyes crinkled at the corners in that way that made your heart skip. There he was–your Joey. The tension and heaviness from yesterday seemed to have vanished, replaced by this light, playful energy you adored so much. “Better mood today, huh?” you asked, rubbing the skin underneath his eye.

“Better everything,” he replied, his voice softer now, his blue eyes full of warmth as they locked on yours. “All because of you,”.

You exhaled, letting out a breath you’d been holding in for a long while, “I’m so glad. Last night was…I was worried about you–,” you started to say, but before you could finish, Joe pushed a finger to your lips. 

“No,” he shook his head. “We don’t have to talk about that right now, okay? Don’t stress about it,”. And before you could say something else, he grabbed his hand, pulling you toward the fort. “Now c’mon, let’s see if the fort passes inspection,” he teased, crawling inside first and motioning for you to follow. 

“It better pass the Joey B inspection. I put a lot of effort into this one,” you chuckled, a small shriek following after Joe grabbed your arm and pulled you into him as his back hit the pillows. 

“It’s already a ten out of ten,” he grinned, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you snug against him. His scent–fresh, a little woodsy, with a hint of something sweet–washed over you, making your heart flutter.

“You’re biased,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful pout. “You’d give anything I make a ten out of ten,”.

“Not true,” he said in mock offense. “Remember that time you tried to make brownies but forgot the sugar? I gave those a solid three,”.

You gasped, swatting his chest lightly. “That was one time! And you still ate half the tray,”.

“Because I love you, and I wasn’t about to let you feel bad about it,” he admitted with a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His teasing tone turned into something warmer, more serious. “Besides, everything you do has your touch on it. That’s what makes it perfect to me,”.

Your playful grin softened as you took in his words. The way he looked at you, his eyes warm and sincere, made the world outside the blanket fort fade away. “You’re such a sap, Joey,” you whispered, your hand tracing slow circles on his chest.

“Only for you,” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now, tell me–what’s the plan for this top-tier blanket fort? Because I see food, I see Legos, and I see the most beautiful girl in the world. Looks like a perfect date to me? We can do my side of the date–taco bell, face masks, pedicures, with your favorite candles–later tonight,”.

You laughed softly, the sound muffled against his chest as you snuggled closer. “Well, we eat first–because I know someone skipped lunch today–and then we tackle that Lego set. And maybe,” you added, peeking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, “If you’re really good, I’ll let you have the last churro,”.

Joe’s face lit up with mock excitement. “The last churro? You’d really let me have that honor?”.

“Maybe,” you said sheepishly, booping his nose. “As long as you actually help build the Lego set this time and not get distracted and stare at me the whole time,”. 

He laughed, the deep, thundering sound vibrating through you in the best way. “Deal. But I’m keeping the churro safe–no take-backs. And you can’t get mad if I stare at you here and there, you’re like crazy hot and I need to appreciate that you’re mine allll the time,” he smiled, the down-badness in his voice the same type of down-badness that used to be in his voice back in college. Under all that hard-shelled exterior, Joe was still the same as he was back at LSU. He may not let that side come out easily in front of others…or at all…but it always came out around you. 

“You’re really trying to butter me up for the churro, aren’t you?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you sat up, the playful suspicion in your voice clear.

Joe followed, sitting up behind you with that mischievous glimmer in his eye that always meant trouble. “Mmm,” he hummed nonchalantly, shifting ever so slightly. His arms moved as if he were about to pull you into a hug, but you quickly noticed something was off.

When his hand didn’t quite make it around your waist, you glanced over your shoulder to catch him red-handed–or rather, churro-handed. His fingers were sneaking their way into the bag of Mexican food, inching closer to the special dessert.

“Oh, you sneaky little–,” you started, turning around to confront him. But before you could finish, Joe tilted his head, catching your lips with his in a kiss that was equal parts distraction and charm. The unexpected move left you momentarily speechless, and in that tiny window of opportunity, he managed to carefully extract a churro from the bag. When he finally pulled back, his grin was nothing short of triumphant.

“Oops,” he giggled against your lips, holding up the churro like a prize. His eyes sparkled with mischief, his laughter contagious as you tried–and failed–to keep a straight face.

“Joey!” you groaned, swatting at his shoulder as he leaned back, already taking a bite of the churro with a smug look on his face.

“What?” he said, shrugging dramatically as if he were completely innocent. “I thought sharing is caring, babe,”.

“Oh, you are so lucky I love you,” you muttered, shaking your head as you reached for the other churro in the bag.

—

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon tangled in each other and the cozy chaos of your little fort. Between bites of tacos and teasing arguments over Lego instructions, Joe’s laughter echoed through the space, filling it with a kind of warmth that you knew only he could bring. He was laughing, genuinely smiling, and having fun for the first time in a long time. It felt like whatever was weighing oh him last night was...gone. And when the sun began to set, casting a golden glow through the makeshift walls, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Thank you for this,”.

“For what?” you asked, your voice soft.

“For reminding me that no matter how crazy the world gets, I’ll always have a place where everything feels right,” he said, fiddling absently with the promise ring he’d given you a few years ago. “And that place is wherever you are,”. 

“...Joe,” you mumbled, your eyes softening as you looked up at him. 

“You know,” he started softly, “Yesterday was tough, but…it wasn’t on me. And I’ve learned I can’t hold onto that. Can’t let it eat me up like I used to. I did my best out on that field, I gave it my all like I always do. I made mistakes, the team made mistakes, but we all make mistakes. I can’t keep beating myself up over things I can’t control,” he exhaled, his thumb running over the diamond ring. “But that’s not what I want to talk about,”.

You tilted your head at him, puzzled because you thought he was going to talk to you about what was going on in his head. “What do you mean?”.

Joe’s eyes met yours, his blue eyes staring deeply into your soul almost. “I mean you. You never talk about how you’re feeling. You’re always so worried about me, about making sure I’m okay. But what about you? Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours? I know you’re hurting, Y/N. I know you cried before I got home last night. I know how much those comments hurt you. I know how much you’ve been trying to balance since I got hurt. I know how hard this is for you. And I know you’re not letting me see it because you think you’re protecting me,”.

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just blinked at him, your lips parting slightly. His hand tightened around yours, grounding you.

He saw. 

He always saw right through you. He always saw how you’d try to keep yourself from hurting him. He always saw how much you’d put him first over yourself. He always saw how much you wanted to protect him. 

To be loved is to be seen, and Joe always saw you. 

“Talk to me, Y/N. You are always there when I need you…let me be there for you?” he nodded, his hand rubbing circles along your back to calm you down. He was going to get you to open up to him, even if it took a little push or a shove. 

“I…,” you swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat and tears starting to form in your eyes as the emotional dam felt like it was about to burst. All the feelings you were trying to suppress were coming to the surface, and all it took was for Joe to tell you that he could see it; your restraint, your need to protect him, your real feelings. “I don’t know. It’s…hard sometimes. Watching e- everything you go through. Seeing people tear you down or attack me…because of who you are. It’s like no matter what I do, it’s not enough. I can’t protect you from any of it,” you confessed, your voice trembling as you remembered everything those Chiefs fans said to you yesterday. “I get scared, you know? Seeing you shut down like that because of things that aren’t even your fault. I get scared when you start to d- doubt yourself. And I get scared when people say those awful things about you…about m- me…about us. You’ve worked so hard to come back from that wrist injury, that whole process was so hard on you physically and mentally. I just hate seeing people downplay what you went through. They all just want so much more from you, and I hate seeing you think that what you’re doing isn’t enough as is,”. 

Joe’s expression softened, and he pulled you closer, his other hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek as it slipped free.“You’re not supposed to protect me,” he murmured. “That’s not your job. Just being here, being you…that’s everything I need. You’re the only good thing in my life that feels real, and I’d be lost without you. All the voices that implore ‘You should be doing more, Joe’, but to you I can admit, that I’m just too soft for all of it. I can always tell you how tiring it gets, I can always vent to you about how hard things get. That’s more than enough. You’re the only person who knows me…the real me, which is why you’re the only one I can confide in. You’re always there when I need you, to catch me when I fall. You make me feel safe, lovey. By just being you, being here with me, listening to whatever I have to say, letting me cry on your shoulder. You don’t need to do anything extra to protect me, ever. There’s a reason why I find myself running home to your sweet nothings. Outside, they're always pushing and shoving, but you're in the kitchen humming. All you’ve ever wanted from me is sweet nothing,” he said.

“That’s why I love you and I love the peace and quiet you bring me. You never want anything extra from me…never need me to do more than I already do. But when you start bottling up your feelings, bottling up your emotions…that peace and quiet starts to fade. You know why? Because you aren’t happy. Because you’re hurting, and that kills me more than anything else,”. 

You felt your heartache from his words, a bittersweet mixture of comfort and longing setting over you. The way he opened up made it impossible not to let your own feelings spill out. You glanced down at your hands as you spoke, “This entire world,” you began softly, your voice trembling slightly, “It’s so chaotic. It’s...it’s scary. Those good moments, they’re brief. They last for a heartbeat, and then before you know it, something bad happens, and it feels like everything’s falling apart,” you said, referring to the wrist injury that came out of nowhere last season.

You took a shaky breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that urged you to keep going. “But you? Us? Our relationship? That’s the one constant. The one thing that feels solid, unshakable. It’s like.. no matter how bad things get, no matter how lost I feel, I always have this place to hide. This place to seek shelter in the middle of the storm. And that place–it’s always with you. But ever since last November…I’ve had this nagging thought in the back of my head that maybe…the shelter is too good to be true. I’m scared that I’ll lose you…lose you to this world of football and unpredictable moments. I’m scared you’ll get too caught up in proving yourself…in being the best…too caught up in your head, and you’ll just–,”.

“No,” he quickly stopped you before those words fell from your mouth. “Don’t…don’t say that,” he said, his voice shaky as you saw his eyes water. 

Another tear slipped from your eye as you kept going, “Even when I’m dreaming, I can feel you leaving. And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, especially because you’ve never given me a reason to doubt us…but I’m scared, Joe. I’m scared that I’m too much for you, that I’m pushing you too much and you’ll just…leave. I’m scared that what everyone said about me was right? I haven’t done enough to protect you, and I said I always would…but I didn’t,”. A sob escaped your lips and before you knew it, the tears were free-flowing down your cheeks, “I can’t,” you cried. 

Joe felt his heart shatter at your confession.

You felt like he was going to leave? 

Never in a million years would he ever think about leaving you…leaving his love…leaving his peace. Never in a million years would he ever even think about living his life without you in it. 

“Baby,” he said with urgency, his hands moving up to your face, wiping the tears away. “Baby, look at me,”.

“I’m sorry, Joe. I don’t know why I feel like this…I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking that you’d be better off without me. I don’t know why I’m letting all of it get to me. I’m supposed to be better than that,”,

“Y/N.” he said, his voice loud enough to silence you. “Stop.”.

His words cracked something open inside you, and the tears came slowly now, silent but steady. Joe didn’t flinch, didn’t rush you. Instead, he slipped the promise ring from your right hand and slid it onto your ring finger, the gesture deliberate and filled with unspoken meaning.

“See this?” he said, holding up your hand so the ring caught the light. “This…it’s my promise to you. That no matter how loud the world gets, no matter how much they push and shove, this…us...it’s our quiet. It’s our peace. You are my peace and I am never leaving you. No matter how hard it gets…no matter how much I keep losing in the NFL. I am never leaving you. No matter how many injuries I have or how many fucking fans want to talk shit on me, I am never leaving you. 

You sniffled, your hand trembling slightly in his. “Joe, I–”,

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb now tracing the veins on the back of your left hand. The sensation was soothing, grounding you in a way only he could. “You need to know that I am sorry. I am so sorry that I haven’t seen how much you’ve been struggling since my injury. I am so sorry that I always get in a fucking shitty ass mood whenever shit doesn’t go my way. I am so sorry I’m always crying to you about my problems. That’s not how a relationship works. That’s not how we work. We always talk to each other and lean on each other for comfort and security. I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel like you couldn’t do that. I’ve been trying to protect you by pushing you away, not knowing that it only hurt you more every time. I never wanted you to feel like I was pushing you away for good. I thought protecting you from me, from my doubts, and from all of the bullshit that’s been surrounding me lately would keep you safe. But I was so wrong. I need to keep you here with me, no matter how tough it gets because you’re the only one that can make it better. Winning won’t make anything better. My wrist being 100% won’t make anything better. The fans shutting up won’t make anything better. You? You will.”. 

“I’m not going to leave you, Y/N. I made that clear on our first date back at LSU. Remember? I promised you to love you till I physically couldn’t. And I don’t ever plan on going back on that promise. Don’t ever feel like you’re a burden to me, that you’re pushing me too much, okay? Because without you I wouldn’t be able to do any of this. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you telling me how proud you are of me, without you being there for me after every loss with your arms open, ready to listen to whatever I have to say. I wouldn’t be able to do this without your constant motivation, reassurance, and unwavering support. It’s okay to crumble, to feel upset, and be sad. You are human, baby. It’s okay to worry and feel scared. But I’m here. I’m always here for you and I want you to know you can always tell me these things. I want you to know that I need you with me. I needed you then, I need you now, and I need you forever,”. 

Your breath hitched as Joe’s words washed over you, their weight settling deep in your chest. It was like the dam had burst, finally releasing all the emotions you had been bottling up for so long. You stared at him through tear-filled eyes, his face so close to yours, so calm and full of love. The way he looked at you–like you were the only thing in the world that mattered–made your heartache in the best way.

“I…I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you, Joe,”.

“Stop that,” he said gently, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears that continued to fall, his touch soft and deliberate. “You deserve the world, Y/N. And if I could, I’d give it to you. But right now, all I can give you is me. All of me,”.

A sob escaped your lips as you leaned into his touch, your hands gripping his wrists as if letting go would shatter the moment. “You already give me everything,” you said, your voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Joe. I’m scared of even thinking about it,”.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. You are so much more than what those people think. You’re everything to me, I can’t lose you to any of this. If I don’t have someone to share this all with, then what even is the point? If I don’t have you, why am I even trying? I promise you that you’re doing just enough for me. I promise I’m not going anywhere, you’re not going anywhere, and I promise that you and I will always get through this together,”.

The promise in his voice broke through the last of your defenses. You collapsed against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his chest. His arms came around you instantly, holding you tightly, as if shielding you from the weight of the world. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, murmuring softly, “It’s okay, baby. Let it out. I’ve got you,”.

And you did. You let it all out–the fear, the insecurity, the pressure you’d been carrying on your shoulders for far too long. You cried into his chest, and he held you through it all, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. His other hand stayed on your left hand, his thumb tracing the veins there in that familiar, grounding gesture that had always calmed you.

When your sobs finally quieted, and your breathing began to steady, Joe pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes searched yours, his expression full of concern and love. “Better?” he asked softly.

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped at your cheeks. “A little. Thanks to you.”

He smiled, that boyish grin that never failed to make your heart flutter. “Good. Because I’m not done yet,”.

“What do you mean?” you asked, a small laugh escaping despite the heaviness of the moment.

Joe tilted his head playfully, his fingers still holding your left hand. He glanced down at your promise ring, now on your ring finger, and gave it a small twist. “This right here,” he said, his voice low but firm, “Is just the beginning. You’re not just my girlfriend, Y/N. You’re my partner. My future. And one day, I’m going to replace this ring with a different one. One that means forever,”. 

Your breath caught, your heart skipping a beat at his words. “Joe…,”.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tender it brought fresh tears to your eyes. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. And I’m never letting you go. I am going to be right by your side through everything. We were made to do this together, and I realized that the first night you let me make you mine. It’s you and me forevermore,”. 

The weight in your chest lifted, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and safety. You smiled through your tears, your hands moving to cradle his face. “I love you too, Joey. Always,”.

Letting your feelings out to Joe, finally saying everything you had been holding onto for the past year, was more liberating and comforting than you ever could have imagined. It was better than any cozy day spent under a blanket or any attempt to distract yourself from the chaos inside. Joe had been right all along–your relationship was built on leaning on each other, on sharing everything, the good and the bad. He had been doing that with you from the start, and now it was your turn to do the same.

And now that you had, you felt...lighter. 

You felt better because Joe had a way of making all those nagging doubts vanish. With his words, his touch, and his unwavering love, he silenced every awful thought that had taken root in your mind. He reminded you of who you were, of what you meant to him, and suddenly the world didn’t feel so overwhelming. Instead of being weighed down, you felt grounded, tethered to the one person who could always make everything okay. Joe felt all of his worries wash away too. He only needed to see you happy, see you at peace, for his own peace and quiet to come back.

“I love you, Y/N. Never forget that,” he whispered to you before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him, letting his heartbeat soothe any remaining doubts in your mind. 

For a while, the two of you sat there, cocooned in the stillness, calmness of the moment. The world outside might as well not have existed. Joe’s fingers never stopped their gentle motions, tracing patterns over your hand, his forehead occasionally brushing against yours.

Finally, you broke the silence with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”.

Joe blinked, caught off guard, before his lips curved into a playful smirk. “A worm?” he echoed, his eyebrow rising. “Like…an actual worm? Wiggles and all?”. 

You nodded enthusiastically, biting your lip to keep from giggling. “Yes! Like if I just…poof, turned into a worm right now,”.

He pretended to consider this very serious question, his lips pursed and his gaze narrowing as though deep in thought. “Hmm…worms don’t have arms, so you couldn’t hug me like this,” he said, tightening his hold on you in an exaggerated squeeze. “But yeah, I’d love you. Because then I could finally keep you safe from everything and take care of you without you fighting me on it,”.

You burst out laughing, your head falling back against his chest as his words sank in. “Joe, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,”.  

“And you’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever loved,” he teased, brushing his nose against yours affectionately. “It’s a perfect match,”.  

Your laughter softened into a warm, lingering smile as you gazed at him. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something deeper there–tenderness, devotion, and a reminder of the unshakable love that made your chest ache in the best way.  

As the playfulness settled, he reached up to cradle your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “Everything might feel wrong in our life, but with each other? It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet sincerity.  "We just need us. That's all,".

Your heart swelled, a warmth spreading through you that no blanket could replicate. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, and he hummed contentedly, pulling you closer.  “See?” he murmured against your lips. “You’re stuck with me–worm or not,”.  

And he meant that. He meant all of it. The two of you were meant to do this together, the connection between you was strong enough to outlast any storm that came your way. Joe knew you were his forever the night of his first date, and ever since then, he'd only made that clearer to you. It was just you and him, for the rest of your lives.

The bond you shared was unshakable, rooted in something far deeper than words could ever express. You both knew that no matter what life threw your way, as long as you were tethered to one another, the flame between you would never waver. It wasn’t just love—it was a connection so profound that it felt eternal, like the universe had stitched your hearts together with threads of stardust.

You didn’t need a ceremony to tell you what was already so obvious in the way he held you, spoke to you, and loved you. But the thought of that moment—when he would ask, when you would say yes—was enough to send a soft thrill through you.

Little did you know, that directly above you, inside the confines of his safe, sat the ring you had been dreaming of, waiting patiently for the right moment to appear on your finger. He had it since January, but he knew this was something so extraordinary that it could never be rushed.

And little did you know, that the moment you were dreaming of was coming sooner rather than later.

Until then, you found peace in the quiet certainty that your flame, your love, would burn brightly forever as long as you were together.

–The End–

[p0orbaby]

Just a Little Thing for You and I

summary: you think you’ve gotten away with it, until you don’t

warnings: SMUT 18+, oral, fingering (reader receiving)

a/n: the perfect request for the season

word count: 2.2k

-

“Be quiet,” Leah whispers again, her breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver cascading down your spine as she presses you face-first onto the bed. The duvet feels scratchy against your cheek, stiff polyester catching on your skin, but the discomfort is distant, peripheral. Her hands are already sliding down your body, purposeful, her nails grazing just enough to make you shiver. She stops at your hips, gripping them tightly, her fingers biting into the softness of your skin. The firmness of her hold roots you there, unable—and unwilling—to move as she spreads your thighs with deliberate slowness.

“We wouldn’t want anyone to hear, would we?” Her tone is teasing, laced with smug amusement, but the weight of her hands and the heat radiating from her body behind you make it feel like a challenge.

You want to retort, to shoot back something sharp, but your breath catches the moment her tongue flicks over you. A gasp spills from your lips, muffled by the pillow, and your entire body jerks forward as she drags her tongue along you again, slower this time, torturous in its precision. The wet heat of her mouth is devastating, and it robs you of any semblance of control. Your fingers scrabble at the mattress, clutching at the floral duvet, the fabric bunching beneath your grip as you struggle to anchor yourself.

“Fuck,” you breathe into the pillow, the word barely audible.

Behind you, Leah hums in satisfaction, the low vibration shooting through you like an electric current. She’s infuriatingly slow, taking her time, her tongue tracing deliberate circles that make your thighs tremble. The heat between your legs is unbearable, building and building with every careful flick of her tongue, but she doesn’t let you tip over the edge—not yet.

“Leah,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Stop—stop fucking around”

She pulls back with an furiating slowness, and when she speaks, her voice is low and mocking. “Stop fucking around?” she echoes, her breath hot against your slick skin. Her fingers slide between your thighs, dragging through the wetness there, and you feel the smirk in her words before she even says them. “Doesn’t feel like you want me to stop”

Her fingers press against you, the pressure just enough to make your hips jerk, but it’s fleeting—gone before you can chase it. Leah leans down again, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and you yelp, the sound muffled against the pillow.

“Be still,” she warns, her tone sharp but teasing. Her hands grip your hips harder, holding you in place as her mouth finds you again. The first press of her tongue this time is firmer, hungrier, and it makes your entire body tighten. She licks into you with a fierceness that borders on desperate, her movements unrelenting, her tongue curling and flicking in ways that have your hands clenching the duvet like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

“God,” you hiss, your voice trembling.

She doesn’t stop—doesn’t even slow. Her tongue works you over with a precision that’s carnal, alternating between languid, devastating strokes and quicker flicks that make your hips buck against her face. Each sound you make seems to spur her on, her grip tightening, her blunt nails digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks.

“Leah,” you gasp, your voice desperate now. “Please, I need—”

“What?” she cuts in, pulling back just enough to glance up at you, her lips glistening. The sight of her, wild and disheveled, sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. “You need what?”

“You,” you choke out, barely able to form the words.

Her smirk deepens, and without another word, she slides two fingers inside you. The sudden fullness is overwhelming, and your head snaps up as a guttural moan tears from your throat. Her fingers thrust deep, curling just right, and your entire body jolts.

“Fuck,” you cry, your voice breaking as she sets a relentless pace.

Her free hand slides up your back, pressing you down into the mattress as her fingers work you open. “Stay still,” she murmurs, her voice dark and commanding. “You’re going to take it”

The sheer authority in her tone makes your knees weak, even as you’re already trembling beneath her. Her fingers pump into you harder now, her thumb circling your clit with a pressure that has your thighs shaking.

“Leah—”

“Shh,” she interrupts, her mouth returning to you. The combined sensation of her tongue and fingers is overwhelming, each movement calculated to push you closer and closer to the edge. She’s meticulous, ruthless, dragging you higher and higher until your vision blurs.

The tension coiling in your stomach snaps suddenly, violently, and you come with a force that rips the air from your lungs. Your entire body spasms, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as Leah rides you through it, her fingers and tongue never stopping, never letting up. The pleasure is so intense it borders on painful, and you bury your face in the pillow, your cries muffled but still embarrassingly loud.

By the time she finally pulls back, you’re wrecked—boneless and trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Leah crawls up the bed, her lips and chin glistening, her eyes dark and full of hunger as she looks down at you.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, her voice rough with pride. She leans down to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on her tongue is filthy and perfect, sending another shiver through your already spent body.

But Leah isn’t done.

“Turn over,” she orders, her voice low and commanding.

Your body obeys before your brain catches up, and you roll onto your back, the duvet crumpling beneath you. Leah straddles your hips, her thighs pinning you down as she leans over you, her hair falling into her face. Her lips capture yours again, messy and desperate, and her hands are everywhere—trailing down your sides, gripping your thighs, sliding under your shirt to drag her nails across your skin.

Her fingers find you again, and the overstimulation is immediate, sharp and electric. You gasp into her mouth, your hips jerking as her fingers slip inside you once more, thrusting deep with an ease that makes your head spin.

“Leah, I—”

“You can give me one more,” she interrupts, her voice firm but soothing. Her thumb brushes over your clit, and you cry out, the sound muffled as she swallows it with another kiss. “You’re so good for me. Just one more”

Her pace is brutal, her fingers thrusting and curling with a precision that has you seeing stars. You’re so sensitive now, every nerve ending lit up, and it’s almost too much. But Leah knows your body better than you do—knows exactly how far to push, exactly how to drag you to the brink and then shove you over.

The second orgasm hits you harder than the first, tearing through you like a tidal wave. Your entire body arches off the bed, your hands clutching at Leah’s shoulders as you ride it out, helpless against the force of it. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, her fingers and thumb working you through the aftershocks until you’re sobbing into her shoulder, utterly undone.

When she finally pulls back, you’re shaking, your body completely spent. Leah collapses beside you, her chest heaving, and pulls you into her arms, her lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

-

The kitchen smells like toast, coffee, and that faint, lingering scent of pine from the Christmas tree in the living room. It’s warm, the kind of warmth that only comes from too many cups of tea and the chatter of a family in no particular rush. You’re wearing Leah’s hoodie—an oversized one she tossed your way last night with a smirk and a muttered, “Mum loves to keep the thermostat on 19, you’ll freeze”—and a pair of pyjama bottoms that don’t quite match. The hem drags slightly against the cold tiles as you move.

Amanda is humming along to the soft Christmas music playing on the radio, flitting between the kettle and the toaster like a conductor orchestrating a symphony of domestic calm. The whole scene feels strangely picturesque, like the end credits of a feel-good holiday film.

Leah stands by the fridge, her head buried in it, one hand on the door and the other clutching a half-drunk mug of coffee. “Mum, seriously,” she mutters, her voice muffled by the shelves. “Why have you still got brandy butter in here from last year? It’s growing its own ecosystem”

“It’s fine,” Amanda says, waving a dismissive hand without turning around. “Brandy’s a preservative”

“Yeah, well, the butter’s not.” Leah pulls out the jar, holding it up with a grimace. “Look at this. It’s solid. I could use it as a doorstop”

You suppress a laugh, sipping your tea as you perch on the counter. Amanda doesn’t bother looking. “It keeps,” she says again, her tone cheerful, as if that somehow closes the argument.

Leah mutters something under her breath, shoves the jar back into the fridge with a clatter, and turns to you, raising an eyebrow. “Toast or eggs?” she asks, as if you’ve somehow become part of this ongoing kitchen debate.

“Toast’s fine,” you say, sliding down from the counter to grab another cup of tea. On your way past, you press a kiss to Leah’s cheek, quick and casual, like it’s second nature. She leans into it without looking up, still grumbling about the tyranny of Christmas leftovers.

It’s all so easy, so relaxed. Amanda's breezing through her morning like nothing is amiss, humming along to Chris Rea’s Driving Home for Christmas, asking you how you like your tea, and chatting about her neighbour’s excessive light display. She even offers you the last slice of Christmas cake, which you politely decline.

Leah nudges you with her hip as she sets a plate of toast in front of you, smirking. “You’re officially in the club now,” she says, nodding at Amanda. “Anyone who survives one of Mum’s interrogation breakfasts gets honorary family status”

“Interrogation?” Amanda looks up, feigning shock. “I’m just being polite”

“Polite doesn’t usually involve an inquisition about future grandchildren”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Amanda says, but she’s grinning as she hands Leah a cup of tea. “That’s for later, when you’ve had more coffee”

The conversation flows so naturally that you forget, for a moment, that you’re supposed to be nervous. You laugh, you chat, you eat your toast, and you feel completely at ease. It’s almost unbelievable how normal everything feels.

By the time breakfast is over, you’re helping Amanda clear the table while Leah disappears upstairs to pack your bags. The kitchen is filled with the clatter of plates and the steady crackle of the radio, and you fall into an easy rhythm, wiping down surfaces while Amanda stacks dishes by the sink.

“You’re very good at that,” she says, glancing at you with an approving nod. “I might keep you around”

You laugh. “Well, someone’s got to clean up after Leah”

Amanda snorts, shaking her head. “God knows she never cleans up after herself. When she was a teenager, her room was like a bomb site. Socks everywhere, plates under the bed—honestly, I don’t know how she survives international camps”

The conversation is light, easy, peppered with anecdotes about Leah’s questionable teenage habits and Amanda’s fond exasperation. You’re so caught up in the rhythm of it that you don’t notice anything unusual.

Leah comes back down the stairs, her hair damp from a quick shower, one of your bags slung over her shoulder. “What are you two plotting?” she asks, her tone teasing as she drops the bag by the door.

“Nothing,” Amanda says, a little too innocently. “Just reminiscing”

Leah groans. “Mum, I swear, if you told her about the time I—”

“Relax, darling.” Amanda waves a hand. “Your secrets are safe with me”

Leah doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go, wandering over to lean against the counter next to you. You hand her your half-empty cup of tea, and she takes it without question, her hand brushing against yours for just a moment too long.

Amanda watches the exchange with a small, knowing smile.

By the time you’ve loaded the car with leftovers and exchanged a dozen “are you sure you’ve got everything?”s the morning has stretched into early afternoon. You stand in the hallway, zipping up your coat, while Amanda fusses over a tin of mince pies she insists you take with you.

“It’s been lovely having you here,” she says, handing you the tin with a warm smile. “You must come back soon”

“Thank you for having me,” you say sincerely. “It’s been perfect”

Leah leans down to kiss her mum on the cheek, the kind of casual affection that makes your chest ache with its simplicity.

“Drive safe,” Amanda says, patting Leah’s arm. And then, just as you’re stepping out the door, she adds, “Oh, and Leah, next time you’re home, remind me to oil the hinges on the bathroom door. They were squeaking something awful last night”

The words are so offhand, so casual, that it takes a moment for them to register. Leah freezes mid-step, her hand still on the doorframe.

“I didn’t notice anything,” she says, her voice carefully neutral.

Amanda smiles, turning back toward the kitchen. “Oh, I did”

[crimsonmochi]

Personal ― S. Gojo

Synopsis. Pornstar!Satoru is used to fucking for money's sake. It's something he does often and something he does really fucking well. When he is requested to guest you, however, it shocks everyone to see an immediate energy shift.

Pairing. Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Content. MDNI, fem! pornstar! reader, chubby! reader implied, gender neutral pronouns used for reader, no use of "y/n", smut, p in v, cunnilingus, slight choking, some semblance of onlyfans, pussydrunk! gojo, gojo is left handed canon, a little bit pathetic, and a little nasty, probable breaches of work boundaries, no beta

Word Count. 3.9k

A/N. baby's first jjk fic, be gentle </3 please give me feedback and lmk if i forgot some tags :3 reposts encouraged!

Rain dribbled and splattered on the window, the tiny water beads reflecting and refracting the dim light from Satoru's phone. He sat upright on his bed, muscular back against the headboard, upper arms aching from his last session two days prior. He had reluctantly agreed to participate in a "professional"―which, to Satoru, was just a word for more work, smaller pay―shoot with some girl he could barely remember the name of.

The result? The director had barked at him to put himself in impossible positions for the camera's sake, which left his limbs sore and not in a good way. Satoru forced the scene to end, left with his money and a vow to himself to never ever work for studios again. He hated being told what to do, especially from guys who don't actually have what it takes.

While painkillers and a nice massage from the spa below his apartment complex did not eradicate the pain, it did make it much more tolerable.

Satoru's thumb swiped across the screen, scrolling through comments from his latest post, a message to his subscribers asking for content ideas. Sure, he did not like being told what to do, but being kindly suggested by his fans to fulfill their desires was different. In the end, he was still in control.

And it probably won't land him in a pharmacy either.

The request that Satoru found came up the most was for him to do ASMR; some fans wanted to hear those pretty praises, those filthy words he gives to his co-stars, spoken to them instead. Although the idea was alluring, Satoru would rather be on camera than behind a fancy microphone in a recording booth—primarily because he was too proud to opt out of showing his god-crafted body (that cocky bastard). But then again, he could find a way to do both...

He shelved that idea for later.

Other requests were suggestions of people to shoot with. Some popular names came up, women and men he had already filmed with and didn't find too interesting. He could fake it, of course; he was an actor, it was half of his job―but he would be unsatisfied with the end result.

Satoru was about to quit reading requests, bored and uninspired until his cerulean eyes stuck themselves to a particular comment. The space between his eyebrows creased as his eyebrows furrowed. It was a subscriber recommending another star, explaining how they weren't very well known, but they believed them and Satoru would make a great pair.

The wording was not what caught his attention, he had gotten plenty of requests with the same exact sentence before. No, it was the name, your page's name―which, to Satoru, felt familiar yet distant. He hadn't shot with you before, no, that wasn't it. Yet he was certain he knew you, knew of you at least.

His thumb reached for the search bar to type in your alias, his eyelids flickering when his gaze fell on your profile, your soft face on display. Satoru felt his length chub up in his boxers, soft lips parting to accommodate for a sudden need of oxygen.

Just as his subscriber said, you were less popular than him, with less than half the number of subscribers he had and an inarguably cheaper paywall in front of your content. Memories of happily searching for his new credit card numbers to pay for your videos came back rushing to him, memories only a few months old.

Satoru recalled seeing a preview and being immediately smitten by your pretty figure, your plush thighs and your tummy, that tiny thrill in your eyes. Fuck, how he had spent half of his revenue giving you tips on an anonymous account―just to obtain a personalized picture of just those pretty thighs, fisting his aching cock to that image for days.

Just looking at that profile again, oh my god.

His eyes laid on the subscription button. He did not even bother getting on an alt account this time to press it, watching the confirmation request pop up on his screen to gather his fingerprint in order to complete the purchase. When the paywall finally went away, Satoru let out a breath he wasn't even aware of holding, his hand travelling to his boxers, palming himself through his briefs as he scrolled.

And oh, he was gone again.

Satoru had never sent a message to his agent that frantically in his life, asking her―no, begging her to contact you to secure a shoot with you. Asked her to do whatever she could to get you in the studio.

The next few days went by without a reply from your part, and Satoru was going mad. He could not remember being this nervous for anyone, this needy. In between sessions of overthinking (maybe he should have asked you himself or maybe offered something more), he found himself replaying videos of yours he had already seen, notably the ones with other men. He knew them by heart.

Those guys didn't seem to appreciate you nearly as much as you needed, as much as you deserved. It pissed him off beyond what he thought was possible, yet made him so hard; He knew he could fuck you so much better than those amateurs you were with, pleasure you in ways they wouldn't even dare.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you were just intimidated by his offer. Too much money from too big of a creator and an offer that seemed too good to be real to not hold a catch, which is why you did not answer right away, anxiously weighing the implications. It wasn't until he, in a moment of pure desperation and haze, shot you a private message confirming the offer that you replied, shyly agreeing.

From then on, Satoru could barely contain himself, daydreaming about everything he could do to you with his left hand eagerly moving up and down his cock, breathy exhales escaping his mouth and shaky fists gripping his bedsheets. Too often, he found himself checking the calendar on his phone, awaiting the shoot date, disappointed every time that it was still the 15th instead of the long-awaited 21st. Satoru Gojo did not exactly believe himself to be a patient man.

He sent you little messages throughout the week with ideas and reassuring messages. He wanted to know everything about you, your likes and dislikes, what you thought of him, how your body worked, and how he could get you to whine and moan for him.

On the day of the shoot, Satoru was almost unrecognizable to others involved―his agent and the friends he'd stopped to visit on his way to his studio. The man people had described as cocky, overly confident, and self-absorbed was reduced to a nervous, lost-in-thought mess. All because of you, the pretty little thing he would get to have his hands on later that evening.

He'd showered three times, spent too long in his room figuring out what clothes to wear, as if that would matter, and freaked out over his hair. His hair.

And when you finally arrived at the studio with your assistant, he nearly forgot how to breathe. That, or he was purposely holding back for fear of scaring you off, this cute little thing before him. You introduced yourself, pretty eyes gazing up at him, taking a second to admire each and every one of his features. As soon as he saw your smile, here in person, he told himself he could die happy.

Well, he could die happy after having a taste of you.

You were shy while introducing yourself to him. The interaction could easily have been misread as awkwardness, and that was what Satoru would have gone with, too, if he didn't know any better (if he didn't think so highly of himself). Your softer voice, your pretty eyes, god, those eyes. He could tell you might've had a tiny crush on him as well, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make his head reel.

Your assistant all but confirmed it when you excused yourself to the restroom, admitting that you hadn't stopped gushing about this opportunity since you got it.

And when you got back, he had the most annoying smirk and glint in his eyes, looking down at you.

After discussing what he wanted for the scene, making sure you were comfortable and willing to participate―a gentleman, truly, asked you so many times that you started chuckling your answers―he had his agent and your assistant leave the studio after you agreed to dismiss them. He did not mind an audience, but he wanted this to be personal.

"I film all my own shit anyways," he hummed, hopping behind the camera to adjust the angle.

In the film room of the studio was a bedroom set with a queen-sized bed with navy sheets and a wooden frame. A sliding-door closet with mirrors stood tall on the left side, and a bedside table on the right.

The scene you and Satoru agreed upon was vanilla, but he was pleased with the gist of it. Any way he could have you is a way he'd be pleased with, however. It didn't really matter how for the time being.

You sat in the middle of the bed, your back against the cold headboard and palms against the soft sheets, gazing at Satoru as he grumbled at the camera, shifting through the studio to find a new battery with his lips pursed in a pout. It amused you, seeing a different side of him.

It was only three minutes later that he climbed onto the bed, knees against the mattress as he moved towards you, those blue eyes staring at your frame through those pale lashes. He moved to straddle you, his back straight, his body looming over yours.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," mumbled Satoru, his hand firmly landing on the headboard to support himself, making a louder sound than he intended. "You tell me if I'm too much for you, alright, pretty?" he followed in a softer tone.

You nodded, the pad of your index landing on his shoulder and travelling down his torso, trailing close to the sweatpants he wore. Satoru reached his own unoccupied palm to your face, his fingers hooking themselves at the nape of your neck to pull you towards him. His nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips with his.

Satoru had never felt drunk on a kiss until you entered his studio.

As if a switch flipped in his head, he kept you closer to him, desperate and unwilling to pull away from your lips. He breathed shakily, his minty breath fanning over your mouth.

"Oh, you're good at this," he laughed, an arrogant laugh that made your pussy ache.

"Yeah?" you murmured.

"Yeah."

The hand on your cheek moved to your throat, squeezing at the sides―not enough to hurt, just to make oxygen sparse in your system. "I'll make you feel good, sweetheart, hm? I'll do better than those fucking losers on your page."

The sweetest words said oh so cruelly.

Although it was increasingly hard for you to think, you were able to click the pieces together pretty quick, your eyes widening and your pupils dilating.

'Fourth wall break wasn't part of the plan.

Oh.

He watched.'

Satoru's gaze had changed. Deep, yet precise in conveying the exact energy desired. A short, almost inaudible gasp escaped your lips, and fuck, he fed on that, on your reactions to him, no matter how small or insignificant. It mattered to him.

Warm fingers slipped under your the black camisole hugging your body before you could even notice his hand had left your throat, caressing your skin until he his the jackpot, massaging the same breasts he had spent hours looking at only within the past week.

"Oh-ho— nothing, no bra for me?" Satoru chuckled. He captured your nipple between his index and his thumb, rolling and pinching at it until it pebbled, drawing out a whimper from your lungs.

Satoru was fascinated by what he had under his hand, taking a too-curious approach to exploring, as if he had never seen or felt another body before this point in his life. He took his time to gently remove the fabric off of your body, imagining all the ways he could bind and explore it, worship it, cum all over those pretty tits—

It wasn't until he felt your soft hands trying to discard his shirt that he snapped out of his haze, realizing he was fucking up the pacing.

Satoru latched his mouth to one of your breasts, biting and sucking gingerly while he focused on getting you out of those tight leggings you wore just for him, that truly left nothing to the imagination. He frantically worked to get those white laced panties out of the way with a tad more force than he should have, causing a tear to rip into the fabric.

"Satoru—" you gasped, only halfway acting.

"I'll get you another pair," he groaned against your chest, licking over one of the bite marks he had left before unlatching to look down.

Satoru's brain short-circuited.

Sure, he's seen your body time and time over, but that had only ever been through the careful separation of a screen, a paywall. It was different to have access to it, to be able to touch and feel.

He thanked his earlier self for asking if he could eat you out, for now, getting to have your supple thighs around his face and neck. Fuck, he could really die happy now.

Satoru caught sight of your dripping cunt, juices dripping and latching onto your skin. He felt hungry for what seemed to be the first time in his life, moving down your body to kiss right over your mound, your scent filling his senses.

"Oh, s-shit, look at that," said Satoru.

Had he just stuttered?

He nudged his nose in between your folds, brushing against your clit with a swiftness that made your figure jolt. He chuckled, moving his arms to trap your hips and pin them to the mattress, muscles flexing under his skin to intimidate.

"God, she wants me so bad."

Satoru languidly licked up and down your slit, careful to miss your sensitive bud in the meanest way. He whimpered at the taste of you on his tongue, sweet in a natural way, catching both you and himself off guard. If his face wasn't buried in your cunt, you could have seen the faint blush creep to the surface of his cheeks.

"You ever had someone do this, sweet'art?" he mumbled against your heat, lips finally latching on to your clit.

"N-No, not really," you sighed.

"Mh," Satoru hummed disapprovingly, toying with the bundle of nerves between his teeth, one of his arms sneaking away from your hips. He teased his ring finger at your entrance. "You're, fuck- fuck― you're so― taste so good..."

He pushed his finger past the ring of muscle until he was knuckles deep, groaning before he returned his mouth to your clit, sucking in small intervals as he pumped in and out of your velvety walls. Satoru whined when your hand flew to his hair.

And when you moaned for him, he was a goner. He noticed the usually loud and audibly altered sounds had turned saccharine and almost timid.

You had been faking your moans?

He snickered at his realization, breaching through the noise of your moans and the quiet slurps. "I think she loves me," said Satoru in between breaths.

"Wha-, who―"

"Wasn't talking to you, love." Satoru's words drastically contrasted with his soft tone.

He punctuated his sentence by curling his digits to find and abuse that spongey spot, earning a string of nonsense words and whines from you, only encouraging his endeavour. The soft squelch of your pussy around his fingers and his mouth was enough to drive him to buck his hips toward the mattress.

When Satoru felt your soft thighs tighten around his head, he forced himself to pull away, grunting as you desperately moved to grip your fingers in his hair, trying to keep him there. If he hadn't had such strong convictions, he might have stayed down there for the rest of his life, dying happy with his face buried in your pretty cunt.

Satoru straightened his form, his fingers pulling out to find your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. You protested, whining pathetically.

"I know, I know, sweet girl, I'm sorry. Wanna... wanna have you cum on my cock. Can y'do that love? Want you all over me.."

He was mumbling, staring into your eyes with his pupils blown wide. The blue of his irises was overtaken by those black orbs, capturing you in his sight. His chin was wet and dripping, and his lips were slightly swollen.

A gorgeous mess for you to gaze upon.

Satoru's eyes dropped down to the sweatpants he threw on earlier (and called Suguru about just to make sure it looked "casual but not fuckboy"―Suguru called him a dumbass and hung up), carefully bunching up the fabric as well as his boxers before pushing down. Hissing as his length perked up, angry and weeping pre, he breathed a little heavier than before, his shoulders rising and falling. Satoru hadn't felt this worked up in months, maybe years, all from this.

For you.

And you would not be lying saying that had to be the prettiest dick you'd ever seen.

"Shit― look at that, hah," Satoru softly chuckled. "Lift your legs up f'me, pretty, come on.."

He grinned down at you as he helped you push your knees up to your limit, delicately placing your ankles on his shoulders and leaning his torso forward. Satoru placed one of his palms behind your cranium, a small yet protective measure.

"This okay?" asked Satoru, nudging his tip against your folds, collecting your slick to drench his cock, gliding over your clit.

"Y-Yeah, this is fine..."

It was rare for you to be nervous, given that you were used to having sex, filming it, and posting it for hundreds to see. Intercourse was not something you had any insecurities about. Usually.

What caught you off guard was the look in Satoru's eyes, the way he carried himself with a gentleness foreign to anything you've seen from him.

Satoru leaned down to press kisses against your jawline, open-mouthed and delicate, exhaling as he guided his length past your entrance, satisfied at the small gasp he heard from your lips.

"Oh my god, it's even fucking better than I imagined," said Satoru, his voice strained.

He could feel the stretch, your walls fluttering to accommodate him, still so tight and fuck―the tiny high-pitched, almost inaudible whimpers that escaped your throat.

"Don't know if I'll be able to pull out, sweet girl, hah―shit―she's sucking me in, look."

"Then don't," you mumbled, turning your head to meet his lips.

"You can't say shit like that," Satoru scoffed.

"Why not? I want it."

If you were simply pretending for the camera, that was some damn good acting. Good enough to turn Satoru into putty in your hold, to shut his brain off and make him act on instinct alone, script be damned.

Satoru pushed in until his pelvis hit your flesh, his hold on you faltering in strength momentarily, a helpless expression on his face. He listened to your quiet whines, his free hand returning to your clit in hopes of easing the strain.

"Just fuckin' perfect, holy fuuuck―" he strained out.

He withdrew his fingers from your clit to taste you once more, addicted. He drew his hips back slowly, just enough to leave about an inch inside, before thrusting back in at a slightly faster pace, setting a rather slow, intimate rhythm for you to follow.

Satoru watched as your breath picked up, how the slow rock of his hips made your eyes unfocus, and your mouth hang open. He watched as your forehead started to sweat, how your hair moved along his movements.

More importantly, Satoru listened. He heard those moans, shakier and uncalculated. He knew he wasn't crazy earlier when he had the reflection that you had been faking them.

Actually pathetic, those "men" you had been with.

"You're so pretty, y'know that?" Satoru mumbled, out of his mind. Like he was a schoolboy talking to his second-period crush. "So pretty... s'not fair..."

"H-Huh―?"

"S'not fair how it's gonna be―mh, shit―over, how s'gonna be over."

Satoru angled his hips differently, aiming for that spongey spot he had found earlier. That said, he would have had to be able to think straight to get it on the first try; which he could not, not when he was buried deep inside your cunt.

"W-What―aah, fuck, Satoru~"

You couldn't recall any shoots you had done―or any sex you had had at all, actually―that felt as good as Satoru.

"Right there, right? S'that i-it?"

He drove his movements faster, his pelvis hitting the back of your thighs and your ass with a louder SMACK! than it did previously, his breaths becoming further shallow and desperate. His skin grew increasingly damp as his efforts increased, and what were previously grunts turned to shameless moans, whines and whimpers, wanton and needy.

The man was losing his mind, so unlike anything you had seen from him.

Satoru's thrusts soon became erratic and uncoordinated, his face buried in your neck, drinking all of the sounds you were making like he was getting drunk on them.

"Can't... won't last l-long, okay? M'sorry I can't..." Satoru wailed.

His hand found your breast, flicking at your nipple in hopes of making you cum faster, needing to feel you. You were teetering on the edge, and he could feel it, feel how your pussy drew him in.

"Y'know you've been― y'been teasing me for two fuckin' weeks―aah... shitshitshit, so so g-good―two weeks." He paused to groan, pinching your flesh between his index and thumb to elicit a reaction from you. "Can't get enough of you, you're so―and you know it, you fuckin' know it too, I-I know y'do."

"Satoru! So close, please d-don't stop," you yelped, walls constricting around his length.

"Y-Yeah, pretty, I know, fuck―I know, sweet thing. I got you," Satoru panted and tightened his grip on the back of your head as if to brace for impact. "Y'do know how to drive me fuckin' crazy, with―mh, you're so soft and pretty, m-makes me want to quit the business, make you my own, God, make you my pretty wife."

Satoru's mind was running on overdrive, trying to keep up with what the fuck he was saying and making sure you felt good, as good as him. No easy task.

"Shit, gonna make you mine, I promise, fuck―"

His his stuttered as he spilled himself inside you, crying out like a wounded animal. It felt too good, it was too much.

Satoru kept going, although fucked out of his mind, determined to make you cum. He lapped up the sweat from your neck, not caring if it was nasty, while he reached down to your clit once more, slapping the sensitive bud a few times, stopping when he felt your cunt constrict and clench around him, a nice little ring of creamy mixed arousal forming at the base of his cock, gliding down your ass and spilling on the bedsheets.

"Such a mess, oh my God," Satoru whined.

He gathered some on two of his fingers, wiping it right off of your skin. "Taste it f'me, pretty," Satoru groaned.

He could have ascended to heaven right then as you wrapped your lips around his digits, glossy eyes peering up at him through your lashes.

"I gotta keep you."

pt. 2?

[missarchive]

guys my age - spencer reid

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

who? professor spencer reid x student fem!reader

category: slow burn, forbidden love.

content warnings: NSFW MDNI! age gap! (spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s). dubious content. freakish obsessed reader, freakish obsessed spencer. dom!spencer, but reader is pretty controlling. borderline stalking. unprotected p in v. forbidden love. power dynamics. smut. spencer cums inside :]

word count: around 8k

a/n: hi all!! this is my first post, i used to write wayyy back in the day but after a long three years and finally finishing my degree, i now have all the time in the world to write again. feedback is greatly appreciated <3

The lecture hall was alive with murmurs, but you couldn’t hear them. All you could focus on was the moment that door would open, the instant he would walk in. Dr. Spencer Reid. His name consumed you, whispered endlessly in the back of your mind, an invocation that made your pulse quicken. You had done your research long before the semester began—his credentials, his publications, the infamous cases he’d worked. He wasn’t just brilliant. He was untouchable. But not to you.

You sat deliberately in the middle row, far enough back to observe him fully, close enough to feel like he was speaking directly to you. The moment he entered, time seemed to slow. His presence was overwhelming, his voice a melody that wrapped around you, dragging you under. Every movement he made—the way his fingers toyed with the edge of his lecture notes, the slight adjustment of his glasses—was a spectacle.

“Good morning, everyone. Welcome to Advanced Criminology. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” His voice was smooth and confident, with an underlying warmth that immediately put you at ease.

For the next hour, you sat transfixed as he delved into the complexities of criminal behavior, weaving together case studies and theories with an ease that only someone with his expertise could manage. He had a way of making even the most intricate concepts accessible, his passion for the subject evident in every word. By the end of the lecture, you were utterly captivated—not just by the material, but by the man who delivered it.

Perfectly ironed white shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms. The same black suit pants you’d seen countless times when you closed your eyes. Unruly curls lay in a perfect mess, somehow each strand just fit. His eyes held knowledge, they commanded attention. They looked at you with such an intensity, you wondered if he could see right through you. Sure, he wasn’t blind. Dr. Spencer Reid was a genius, after all. But, as he walks around his classic oak desk, fingers grazing against the wood as he leans up against it, you wonder if he knows the effect he has on you… On everyone.

Your old professor had resigned, much to your dismay. However, that was quickly resolved once you learnt of the new, much younger professor who was assigned to take his place. Spencer Reid, a name that seemed like a curse every time it was spoken. You’d just have to settle for admiring from afar, for now. 

He was perfect. No, he was more than that. He was yours.

In those first weeks, it became routine to linger after class, pretending to ask questions about criminological theories when all you wanted was his attention. You started tracking his habits: the exact time he arrived on campus, where he grabbed his coffee, the path he took to his office. It wasn’t enough to listen to him during lectures. You needed to know him. Needed to understand every nuance of his life.

Your notebooks filled slowly. Not just with his words, but with sketches of his hands, his profile, even the way the light hit his hair during evening lectures. You memorized his mannerisms and read every book he recommended—not just to excel but to mirror his thoughts, to create a bond he couldn’t ignore.

Each interaction became a drug, a fleeting high that left you craving more. The way his eyes lingered on yours during class wasn’t a coincidence. You were sure of it. The moments his voice softened when addressing you were evidence of something deeper. He felt it too—he had to.

Dr. Reid, for his part, seemed to enjoy your curiosity. He would patiently answer your questions, occasionally sharing anecdotes from his time in the field. There was a depth to him that intrigued you, a sense of vulnerability hidden beneath his intellect. You couldn’t help but feel a growing admiration for him—one that you knew was dangerous to entertain.

It happened on a rainy Friday afternoon. You had stayed behind after class to discuss a particularly challenging case study, and the conversation had spilled into his office. The rain pattered against the window as you sat across from him, your notes spread out on the desk between you.

“I’m impressed with your analysis,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “You have a natural aptitude for this field.”

The compliment sent a flush of warmth through you, but you quickly pushed it aside. “Thank you, Dr. Reid. That means a lot coming from you.”

For a moment, the air between you shifted, the professional boundary wavering ever so slightly. He seemed to sense it too, clearing his throat and looking away. “Well, uh, keep up the good work. I’m looking forward to seeing your perspective on the next assignment.”

As you gathered your things and prepared to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something unspoken lingered between you. It was subtle, like the faintest trace of electricity in the air, but it was there. And it terrified you.

The weeks turned into months, and the connection between you and Dr. Reid continued to deepen. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what you told yourself. You simply couldn’t help the way your conversations seemed to flow effortlessly or the way his insights resonated with you on a level that felt personal.

There were moments when you caught him watching you during lectures, his gaze lingering a fraction longer than necessary. And then there were the times when his praise felt almost... intimate, as if he saw something in you that went beyond your academic abilities.

You knew it was wrong. He was your professor, and the power dynamic alone made any kind of relationship inappropriate. But the more you tried to suppress your feelings, the stronger they seemed to grow. You found yourself yearning for his company, for the way his mind worked, for the rare glimpses of vulnerability he shared.

And you weren’t entirely sure he was immune to it, either.

It was during a late-night office visit that everything came to a head. You had been working on your final paper and were struggling with a particular section. Dr. Reid had offered to review it, and you had jumped at the chance, grateful for his guidance.

As you sat across from him, discussing your ideas, the tension that had been building between you finally reached its breaking point. There was a moment of silence as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours.

“You’re incredibly talented,” he said softly. “I hope you know that.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, and before you could stop yourself, you replied, “It’s easy to feel that way when someone like you believes in me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He looked at you, his expression a mixture of conflict and longing. “This...” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “This can’t happen. I won’t elaborate further, but you’re a smart girl… I know you know what I'm talking about.”

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I know.”

But even as you said it, neither of you moved to leave. All you received was a curt nod. The pull between you was undeniable, and in that moment, it felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

The night of the gala was your chance. You spent hours perfecting your appearance, knowing he would notice you in a way he never had before. And when he did, when his eyes locked onto you with that unreadable expression, it was like the entire world fell away.

When he led you to the corner of the room, your heart pounded, not with fear, but with anticipation. His frustration, his struggle to maintain control, only proved how deeply you had affected him.

“What are you doing?” He demanded, his voice low and sharp.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you mean, Dr. Reid.”

His jaw clenched, his composure slipping. “You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been crossing lines all semester.”

You stepped closer, the scent of his cologne intoxicating. “And what if I have?”

His gaze burned into yours, his control fraying with each passing second. “This has to stop.” He said, though his tone lacked conviction.

But you knew better. You had studied him, unraveled him piece by piece. He wasn’t as strong as he pretended to be. And neither were you.

“Maybe I don’t want it to.” You whispered, your voice trembling with both fear and desire.

For a moment, his eyes softened, as if seeing the truth of your obsession for the first time. “Obsession is a dangerous game.” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You would burn the whole world down if it meant keeping him close.

The world outside of Dr. Reid’s orbit ceased to matter. Friends became an afterthought. Classes, even the ones you’d once excelled in, were nothing more than obligations. Every moment not spent in his presence felt wasted. His words were etched into your memory, his voice a constant echo in your mind.

You found excuses to linger near his office, pretending to read in the hallway or jotting down notes on topics that had long ceased to matter. Sometimes you’d see him through the small window of his door, head bowed over papers, fingers absently running through his tousled hair. Those moments were sacred.

And then there were the nights.

Your dreams became a battleground, the lines between fantasy and reality blurring. You would see him, hear him, feel the phantom weight of his gaze. Waking up was a cruel joke, pulling you from a world where he was already yours. More than once, you had the fleeting urge to knock on his door late at night, under the pretense of needing help.

But you stopped yourself. Barely.

For now.

When he praised you in class, it felt personal, intimate. You lived for those moments. The way he would say your name, how his eyes would flicker with something unreadable—those seconds were your lifeline. But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You needed more.

You started keeping track of the little details. The brand of pens he used. The scuff on his leather satchel. The faint hint of lavender in his cologne. You’d bought the same scent, spraying it on your pillow just to feel closer to him at night.

One evening, you followed him. It wasn’t intentional, not at first. He left the lecture hall as you lingered, and without thinking, you gathered your things and trailed behind him. He walked briskly, head down, weaving through the near-empty campus. You stayed far enough back to avoid suspicion but close enough to study him.

He stopped at the local bookstore, his long fingers running over the spines of books with a reverence that made your chest tighten. You hid behind a display, watching him as he browsed. When he left, you waited a few moments before approaching the same section. He had lingered near the true crime section, and you traced the path of his fingers, touching the same books he had touched.

It became a ritual after that. You discovered his favorite haunts: the coffee shop where he always ordered black coffee with two sugars, the quiet corner of the library where he would sometimes sit and read, the park where he walked on Sunday mornings. You were careful, meticulous, ensuring he never saw you. But you saw him.

Every time you caught a glimpse of him, it felt like a secret, a moment that belonged solely to you.

The gala had been your boldest move yet, and the way his gaze lingered on you that night had only fueled the fire. His warning echoed in your mind, but you dismissed it. He said you were crossing boundaries, but you knew better. He was simply scared. Scared of what this meant. Scared of what you meant.

You decided to leave him something. A token, something small enough to avoid suspicion but personal enough that he would know it was from you. A first edition of one of the books he had mentioned in class. You placed it on his desk after everyone had left, your heart racing as you imagined his reaction.

The next day, you waited, anticipation coiling in your stomach like a serpent. When he walked into class, the book was in his hand. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on you for a moment too long before he placed it in his bag without a word.

It was a victory.

But victories, you realized, were fleeting.

One evening, as you left the library, you spotted him walking toward his car. The parking lot was empty, save for the two of you, and for the first time, you didn’t bother to stay hidden. You followed him openly, your footsteps echoing against the pavement.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face you.

“Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice sharp but not unkind. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and something darker, something you couldn’t quite place.

Your breath caught, but you forced a smile. “I wasn’t following you, Dr. Reid. I just happened to be walking this way.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “This isn’t the first time, is it?”

The accusation hung in the air, and for a moment, you thought about denying it. But then, something inside you snapped.

“No.” You admitted, your voice trembling. “It’s not.”

His expression shifted—confusion, disbelief, and something else flickered across his face. “Why?”

The word was a whisper, barely audible, but it was enough to unravel you.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep—I can’t focus on anything but you. You’re brilliant, and kind, and perfect, and I—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “This isn’t healthy.”

You took a step closer, desperation clawing at your chest. “But it’s real. You know it is. I see the way you look at me. Don’t pretend you don’t feel it too.”

He took a step back, shaking his head. “This has to end…now. Do you understand me?”

But you didn’t believe him. Not really. Because you had seen the way his hands trembled when you were near, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. He was scared, yes, but not of you. He was scared of himself.

And that, you realized, was all the encouragement you needed.

Dr. Reid’s words echoed in your mind for days after the encounter in the parking lot. This has to end. But the way he said it, the way his voice wavered ever so slightly, betrayed him. It wasn’t conviction; it was fear. Fear of what you had awakened in him.

You were sure of it now. He wasn’t immune to you. Not entirely.

The proof came in small, fleeting moments—too subtle for anyone else to notice, but to you, they were glaring signs. The way his eyes lingered on you during lectures, his gaze softening before he quickly looked away. The way he adjusted his tie when you walked into the room, as if suddenly self-conscious. And then there were the compliments, so carefully worded that they might seem innocent to others, but to you, they felt personal. Intimate.

Still, he kept his distance. Even when you sought him out after class, he kept the conversations brief, his tone polite but clipped. It was maddening, the way he seemed to hold himself back.

But then, there were cracks.

One afternoon, you arrived at his office under the guise of needing help with a research topic. He hesitated before letting you in, his hand lingering on the doorknob as if debating whether this was a mistake.

Once inside, the air between you was charged. He sat across from you, his hands folded on the desk, but his gaze flickered to your lips more than once as you spoke.

When you handed him a stack of notes, your fingers brushed, and he pulled back quickly, too quickly.

“Sorry.” He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, leaning forward just enough to close the space between you. “It’s okay.”

For a moment, his composure faltered. His eyes locked onto yours, and the tension was unbearable. You could see it in his face—the war he was waging within himself.

Then, just as quickly, he stood, turning his back to you as he busied himself with a stack of papers on the shelf. “Your analysis is impressive,” he said, his tone suddenly distant. “You’re clearly passionate about the subject.”

The shift was jarring, but it only solidified your resolve. He wasn’t rejecting you. He was protecting himself.

That evening, you stayed late in the library, poring over the materials he had assigned. As you packed up to leave, you noticed a familiar figure in the far corner. He was seated at a table, his long fingers flipping through a thick volume, his expression distant.

You froze, your heart pounding. He hadn’t noticed you yet. For a moment, you considered leaving, but the pull was too strong.

You approached slowly, the sound of your footsteps drawing his attention. When he looked up, his eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something unguarded crossing his face before he composed himself.

“Staying late?” He asked, his voice calm, but his fingers tightened on the edge of the book.

You nodded, setting your bag down on the table. “I could ask you the same thing.”

He gave a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I find the library... peaceful.”

“Me too.” You said softly, taking a seat across from him.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that had been building for months. His eyes flicked to yours, then away, as if he couldn’t decide whether to meet your gaze or avoid it entirely.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “You should be careful, you know. Spending so much time in my office, lingering after class—it’s not... appropriate.”

Your heart twisted at the words, but his tone was anything but stern. It sounded like a warning, but it felt like a confession.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked down at his hands, his fingers flexing as if resisting the urge to reach for something—or someone.

“It’s not about what I want.” He said finally, his voice strained.

But it was. You could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, in the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t looking. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He was just better at pretending otherwise.

The next day, during his lecture, you felt his eyes on you more than usual. He paced the room as he spoke, his hands gesturing animatedly, but every so often, his gaze would drift to you, his words faltering for the briefest moment before he recovered.

It was intoxicating, knowing you could unravel him like this.

After class, as the other students filtered out, you stayed behind, your heart racing as you approached his desk.

“Dr. Reid,” you began, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Yes?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words, but before you could speak, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re relentless.” He said softly, almost to himself.

The words sent a shiver down your spine.

“I just want to understand you.” You said, stepping closer.

He shook his head, a faint, almost bitter smile playing on his lips. “You already understand too much.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he fought to maintain control, but you also saw the flicker of something darker, something he couldn’t quite suppress.

And in that moment, you knew: this wasn’t over.

It was only just beginning.

It started innocently enough—at least, that’s what you told yourself.

The male student, a classmate you barely knew, had approached you after lecture to ask about the upcoming project. His name was Ethan, and while he was polite and charming, you couldn’t muster much interest in the conversation. Still, you smiled and nodded at his jokes, your polite laughter echoing in the near-empty hall.

Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Reid had lingered behind, tidying up his desk and organizing his papers. His sharp ears caught the sound of your laughter, a melody he had grown far too familiar with—and possessive of.

He looked up to see you standing near the doorway, your body language relaxed as Ethan leaned in slightly, his tone conspiratorial. Spencer’s grip on the edge of the desk tightened.

Ethan’s laugh was loud, too loud, as if he wanted to broadcast how much he enjoyed your company. Spencer’s jaw clenched. He knew this was ridiculous. He was your professor, and it wasn’t his place to interfere with your social life. But the sight of another man so close to you, taking liberties he couldn’t, made his blood boil.

When you glanced back into the classroom, likely to gather your things, your eyes met Spencer’s. For a fleeting moment, his mask slipped, and you saw something dark and raw flicker across his face. It was gone just as quickly, replaced by his usual calm demeanor, but the image stayed with you.

“Everything alright, Dr. Reid?” You asked, stepping inside and leaving Ethan to wait by the door.

Spencer straightened, clearing his throat. “Yes. Just... finishing up.”

Ethan peeked his head in. “Ready to go?” He asked, his tone casual but his presence invasive.

Spencer’s eyes darted to Ethan, then back to you. “You should be careful with your time,” he said, his voice quiet but pointed. “The project deadline isn’t as far off as it seems.”

You frowned, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. “I’ll make sure to stay on top of it.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if debating whether to say more. Instead, he turned his attention back to his desk, his movements stiff and deliberate.

The next few days were marked by a subtle shift in Spencer’s behavior. During lectures, his eyes seemed to find you more often, but they were no longer soft or conflicted. There was an intensity to his gaze now, a quiet possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

When Ethan approached you again after class, Spencer’s reaction was immediate.

“Miss L/N.” He called out, his voice carrying across the room.

You turned, surprised to see him still at his desk. “Yes, Dr. Reid?”

“Could you stay for a moment? I’d like to discuss your recent paper.”

Ethan hesitated, clearly waiting for you, but Spencer’s sharp gaze left no room for argument. “I won’t keep her long.” He said smoothly, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Ethan nodded reluctantly. “I’ll catch you later.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Spencer’s demeanor shifted. He stood, his tall frame looming as he approached you.

“Is he bothering you?” He asked, his tone casual but his eyes anything but.

“Ethan? No, not at all. Why would you think that?”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He seems... persistent. I just want to make sure you’re not feeling pressured.”

You couldn’t help but smile, amused by his sudden protectiveness. “I’m fine, Dr. Reid. Really.”

He nodded, but his expression didn’t soften. “Good. I’d hate to see someone distract you from your potential.”

The words were innocent enough, but the way he said them—the way his eyes lingered on yours—made your breath catch.

It wasn’t long before his jealousy became harder to hide.

During a group discussion, Ethan made a point of sitting next to you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned over to share his notes. Spencer’s gaze locked onto the interaction, his hand tightening around the marker in his grip until his knuckles turned white.

When Ethan made a joke and you laughed, Spencer interrupted sharply. “Let’s stay on topic, please. This isn’t a social hour.”

The class fell silent, startled by his uncharacteristic tone. You glanced at him, surprised by the edge in his voice. He avoided your gaze, turning back to the whiteboard with rigid movements.

After class, as students filtered out, he called your name again.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said, his voice softer now. “I was... out of line earlier.”

“It’s okay.” You replied, though you couldn’t hide your confusion.

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something. “You have to understand,” he began, his voice dropping lower, “that I only want what’s best for you. Not everyone has your best interests at heart.”

“Are you talking about Ethan?”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer directly. “Just... be careful who you trust.”

The weight of his words hung heavy between you, and for the first time, you wondered if his concern was more than professional.

Later that evening, you found yourself thinking about him again, replaying the moments when his composure slipped, when his obsession peeked through the cracks. You didn’t know whether to be scared or thrilled.

But one thing was certain: Spencer Reid was unraveling, and you were the one pulling the thread.

The days that followed were an intricate dance of tension, each interaction with Dr. Reid pulling you closer to a dangerous edge. His jealousy, once simmering beneath the surface, began to bleed into every corner of your academic life, coloring the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, the way he made his presence impossible to ignore.

It started small.

Ethan asked you to partner up for a case study project, and though you agreed, the arrangement didn’t go unnoticed. During the next lecture, Spencer called on you repeatedly, his questions increasingly challenging, as if testing your limits. The rest of the class shifted uncomfortably, sensing the deliberate scrutiny, but you met his gaze head-on, refusing to falter.

Afterward, he lingered at the podium, watching as Ethan hovered near your seat, leaning down to talk to you. The sight made his stomach churn. He didn’t like how Ethan’s hand rested casually on the back of your chair, how his laughter seemed designed to draw your attention.

“Miss L/N, a word?” Spencer’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.

“What’s this about?” You asked, crossing your arms.

He tilted his head, his gaze piercing. “I noticed you and Ethan are working together.”

“We are,” you said carefully. “Is there a problem?”

His jaw clenched. “No... as long as you’re confident he’ll contribute equally. He strikes me as the type to let others carry the weight of the work.”

You frowned. “That’s not fair. He’s been helpful so far.”

Spencer leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. “Helpful isn’t always the same as trustworthy. Just keep that in mind.”

You stared at him, the intensity in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t just warning you—he was staking a claim, subtle but unmistakable.

The breaking point came during a departmental mixer, an event meant to encourage networking among students and faculty.

You had hesitated to attend, but Ethan insisted, offering to walk you there. Spencer spotted you as soon as you entered, his sharp eyes narrowing when he saw Ethan’s hand at the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd.

He approached you moments later, his movements precise and deliberate. “Miss L/N, a pleasure to see you here.”

“Dr. Reid.” You greeted, your smile nervous under the weight of his gaze.

“And Ethan,” Spencer added, his tone clipped. “Enjoying the event?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Ethan replied, oblivious to the tension. “I was just telling Y/N about a conference coming up in D.C. She’s thinking about attending.”

“Is she?” Spencer asked, his eyes locking on yours.

Ethan nodded. “I might go too. We could share accommodations to save on costs.”

The suggestion made Spencer’s blood run cold. His mind spiraled with images of you and Ethan alone, the boundaries he fought so hard to maintain crumbling under the weight of his jealousy.

“That won’t be necessary.” Spencer said abruptly.

Both you and Ethan blinked in surprise.

“I mean,” he added, forcing a smile, “it’s likely the university will have funding options available for individual accommodations. I’d be happy to look into it for you, Miss L/N.”

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You said slowly, sensing the undercurrent of his words.

Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but Spencer cut him off with a glance so sharp it left no room for argument.

Later that evening, Spencer’s restraint finally snapped.

You stayed behind after the mixer to gather your things, only to find him waiting for you outside the building. The night air was cool, but the tension between you burned hot.

“You didn’t have to wait.” You said, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

“I wanted to.” He replied, his voice low and steady.

You walked in silence for a moment, the quiet punctuated by the rhythmic click of your heels against the pavement.

“Why do you do it?” He asked suddenly.

“Do what?”

“Let him follow you around like that. Laugh at his jokes. Entertain his attention.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “Ethan’s my classmate. I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“It is my concern.” He said, stepping closer. “You don’t see the way he looks at you. The way he talks to you.”

“And how do you look at me, Dr. Reid?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice trembling.

His breath hitched, his carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble. “You know how I look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve known all along.”

The admission hung in the air, dangerous and electrifying. You stared at him, your heart pounding as he took another step closer, his presence overwhelming.

“This can’t happen.” He said, though his words lacked conviction.

“Then why are you here?”

He didn’t answer, but the intensity in his gaze spoke volumes. His hand twitched at his side, as if he was fighting the urge to reach for you. The distance between you felt razor-thin, and for the first time, you wondered who would break first.

The silence stretched between you, taut and electrifying. Spencer’s jaw tightened, and his hand briefly raked through his hair—a telltale sign of his internal struggle. He was balancing on the edge of control, teetering between his professionalism and the unrelenting pull you had on him.

“You should go home.” He finally said, his voice low but strained, as if forcing the words out against his own desires.

You didn’t move. Instead, you tilted your head, studying him with a boldness that matched his intensity. “Is that what you want?”

His sharp intake of breath gave him away. “What I want doesn’t matter.” He said, but his eyes betrayed him, dark with longing.

You stepped closer, drawn to the crack in his carefully curated armor. “It matters to me.”

“Don’t.” He warned, but the word lacked strength, a faint plea wrapped in desperation.

You hesitated, caught between the thrill of provoking him and the awareness of the risk you were taking. Still, the magnetic pull between you was undeniable. “If you really wanted me to stop, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Spencer’s restraint snapped, just for a moment. He reached out, his hand hovering near your arm before he jerked it back as if burned. His expression twisted in frustration, his usual composure unraveling.

“You think this is a game?” He hissed, his voice harsh. “You don’t understand what you’re doing.”

“I’m not the only one doing it,” you shot back, emboldened by the fire in his eyes. “You can’t stand it when anyone else gets too close to me. Admit it.”

His silence was deafening, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the faint twitch in his cheek.

“I see the way you look at me,” you continued, your voice softer now, almost coaxing. “It’s not just admiration, Dr. Reid. It’s something more.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He muttered, turning away, but you caught the tremble in his voice.

“Then prove me wrong.” You challenged.

Spencer turned back to you, and this time, there was no mistaking the raw emotion in his gaze. “You want the truth?” He said, his voice dangerously soft.

You nodded, your pulse quickening.

“I think about you more than I should. I notice every detail—every time you laugh, every time you tuck your hair behind your ear. And when I see him talking to you...” He broke off, shaking his head. “It takes everything in me not to...”

“Not to what?” You pressed, your heart pounding.

His lips parted, but he seemed to catch himself, stepping back as if the space between you might restore his self-control. “Not to cross a line I can’t uncross…” He finally said, his tone heavy with regret.

But the heat in his gaze told a different story—a story of a man on the verge of losing himself to the very thing he’d been trying to resist.

The tension between you didn’t dissipate. If anything, it grew, seeping into every interaction like an unstoppable tide.

In class, his gaze lingered on you longer than was appropriate, his voice faltering slightly when he called on you. During office hours, his questions delved deeper, as if searching for something he couldn’t articulate.

But it was during a casual seminar that the cracks in his professionalism began to widen.

You had arrived early, taking a seat in the front row. As you flipped through your notes, Spencer entered the room, his eyes immediately seeking you out. He paused, visibly unsettled, before making his way to the podium.

As other students filtered in, Ethan arrived and, to your surprise, took the seat beside you. He leaned in, his tone light and teasing as he made some comment about the seminar topic.

Spencer’s expression darkened. He began the session, but his usual measured tone was tinged with an edge that made the room feel heavier. His eyes kept drifting to where you sat, his words sharper whenever he addressed you or Ethan.

When the seminar ended, Spencer was quick to dismiss the class. 

The classroom emptied, leaving the two of you alone. Spencer stood behind the podium, his hands gripping its edges.

“What was that?” He asked, his voice tight.

“What was what?” You replied, feigning innocence.

“You know exactly what I mean.” His gaze pinned you in place. “Him. Sitting next to you. Acting like he—” He broke off, shaking his head as if trying to compose himself.

“Acting like what?” You pressed, stepping closer.

“Like he has the right to your attention,” Spencer snapped, his professionalism unraveling further. “He doesn’t. Not the way I...”

He stopped himself, his chest rising and falling with restrained emotion.

“Not the way you what?” You asked softly, your voice carrying a mix of curiosity and challenge.

His eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath catch. For a moment, you thought he might close the distance between you, shattering the boundaries he’d been clinging to.

Instead, he exhaled shakily and stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “This needs to stop.” He muttered, though the words seemed directed more at himself than at you.

But even as he said it, the tension between you was palpable, an invisible thread pulling you closer despite the chaos it threatened to unleash.

The air between you felt suffocating, charged with a tension that had been building for weeks. Spencer stood before you, his normally composed demeanor unraveling with every passing second. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight as he tried to steady his breathing.

“I’ve tried,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve tried to keep this professional. To keep my distance. But you...” He looked at you then, his gaze piercing and raw. “You make it impossible.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of exhilaration and fear coursing through your veins. “What are you saying?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“I’m saying that I can’t pretend anymore,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with something dark and desperate. “Every time I see you with him, every time I see you smile at someone else... I can’t stand it.”

You took a step closer, emboldened by the vulnerability in his confession. “Then don’t pretend.”

Spencer’s eyes darkened, his restraint crumbling as he closed the distance between you in an instant. His hands cupped your face, his touch firm but reverent, as though he’d been starving for this moment.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me…” He murmured, his voice shaky with need.

“Then show me.” you whispered, your breath ghosting against his lips.

That was all it took. Spencer’s mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was as fierce as it was desperate. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as though he needed you to breathe. The kiss was everything—pent-up frustration, unspoken desire, and a need that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “This is wrong.” He muttered, though his hands still gripped your waist, unwilling to let you go.

“We don’t have to tell anyone.” You countered, your voice soft but insistent.

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then his resolve broke entirely. His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a declaration that you were his, consequences be damned.

Without a word, he guided you backward until you felt the edge of his desk against your hips. His hands roamed your sides, skimming over your curves with a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted between kisses, his voice hoarse. “How many nights I’ve stayed awake, thinking about you. How hard it’s been to stay professional when all I want is to make you mine.”

“Then stop holding back.” You urged, your fingers clutching at his shirt as though afraid he might pull away.

Spencer’s response was immediate. His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you onto the desk with ease. His touch was everywhere—your hips, your back, your neck—each movement filled with a hunger that bordered on obsession.

“Tell me you want this.” He said, his voice low and commanding as his lips brushed against your ear.

“I want this,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair. “I want you.”

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. “You have me,” he promised, his voice rough with emotion. “You’ve always had me.”

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There were no rules, no boundaries—only the two of you, finally giving in to the undeniable pull that had been drawing you together all along.

He is the first to break the silence, his voice low and husky.

"Tell me what you want."

You hesitate for a moment, the words stuck in your throat. Then, quietly, you say, "I want you, Spencer."

He moves closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Tell me exactly what you want."

You swallow, feeling your heart rate quicken. "I want you to touch me, Spencer."

"Where do you want me to touch you?" He murmurs.

"Everywhere." You whisper, leaning into his touch.

He traces his fingers down your neck, his touch featherlight. "Here?"

You nod, your breath hitching as his fingers ghost over your collarbone.

He moves his hands down further, trailing his fingers across your chest. "I need words, sweet girl."

"Yes," You breathe, feeling your arousal growing.

He hums in approval, hands moving lower still, caressing the curve of your breasts. "And here?"

"Yes…" You repeat, arching into his touch.

He cups your breasts through your shirt, squeezing gently. "What about here?"

"Please…" You whimper, your voice barely audible.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "What else do you want, Y/N? Tell me."

You can feel your face flushing, but you can't stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth. "I want you to take my clothes off, Spencer. I want you to touch me everywhere."

He lets out a soft groan, his hands moving to unbutton your shirt. "God, Y/N. I've wanted you for so long."

Your shirt falls to the floor, leaving you exposed. His eyes roam over your body, hungrily taking in every inch of bare skin.

"You're so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, his fingers tracing patterns across your stomach.

You gasp as he leans in and presses a kiss to your neck, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. His hands move lower, dipping below the waistband of your jeans.

"Spencer…" You moan, your hips bucking against his touch.

"Yeah, baby? What is it, sweet girl? Tell me what you need." He breathes, his fingers dancing along your inner thigh.

"I need you." You whimper, desperate for more contact.

He pulls away from you, his hands moving to undo his belt. He pulls his pants down, his hard cock springing free. Tip flushed pink, the same shade as his swollen kiss-bruised lips. He grabs your hips and lifts you onto the desk, his body pressed against yours.

"Is this what you want?" He asks, his voice rough with desire.

"Yes." You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He pushes his cock against your entrance, his eyes locked on yours. "Say it, Y/N. Say you want me."

"I want you, Spencer." You moan, feeling him slide into you.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groans, thrusting into you. "You're so tight."

You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he drives into you, again and again.

"Feels s’good." You babble, feeling the tip of his cock deep in your cervix, his hand coming down to rub calculated circles on your clit.

Spencer was a man of logic, of knowledge. But nothing could have prepared you for how skillful his hands could be in such a sinful context, hands you’d spent hours marking into the pages of your notebooks.

He fucks you harder, his pace frantic. "Such a pretty pussy, Y/N." He groans, dipping his head into your neck to nip at your skin.”My pretty pussy.” He delivers a quick slap to your pussy, sending a shock of pleasure through you, clit throbbing painfully.

"Oh, god, Spencer…" You cry, your orgasm quickly approaching, unable to stop it no matter how much you want to prolong the feeling.

“You wanna cum for me, baby? Cum all over my cock?” He stares down at you with a look you know will be ingrained in your mind for as long as you breathe.

It doesn’t take long before your orgasm crashes over you, pulsing through you in waves, back arching off the bed as you reach out for anything to ground yourself. Hands finding the back of his head, pulling him into your chest. 

He follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you, collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving.

You look up at him, your eyes bright with satisfaction. "Do you think it was worth it?"

He smiles, stroking your hair. "I’d do it all again if it meant I could have you this way just one more time."

The first rays of dawn filtered through the blinds of Spencer’s apartment, casting faint golden stripes across the room. You stirred slightly in his arms, your body cocooned in the warmth of his embrace. Spencer had always been a light sleeper, but he hadn’t moved all night. His arms remained securely around you, as if even in sleep, he was afraid to let go.

For a moment, the world was still, the only sound was the gentle hum of the city waking up outside. In the quiet, you allowed yourself to revel in the stolen tranquility. These moments were fleeting, precious—time you carved out in secret, hidden from the eyes of the world.

“You’re awake.” He murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep.

You tilted your head back to look at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “So are you.”

“I don’t think I slept much,” he admitted, his fingers brushing idly along your arm. “It’s hard to sleep when I know every moment with you has to be hidden.”

You frowned slightly, guilt tugging at you. “I hate it too,” you said softly. “I hate that we have to pretend in class, that I can’t just... be with you without worrying who might see.”

His hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. They were warm, but behind the softness lay a steel determination. “It’s not forever,” he promised. “The semester is almost over. Once you’re no longer my student, no one can question us. No one can tell me it’s wrong to feel this way about you.”

You leaned into his touch, comforted by his words but still anxious about the risks. “Do you ever think about what would happen if someone found out?”

“Every day,” he admitted without hesitation. “But I think about losing you more. And that’s a risk I can’t take.”

The weight of his confession settled over you, heavy and grounding. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’d risk it all for you, Spencer. You know that, right?”

He nodded, his expression softening as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I know. And I’d do the same for you. But until it’s safe, we have to be careful.”

The reminder of the outside world, of the boundaries you had to navigate, was sobering. Yet it didn’t dampen the connection between you. If anything, it strengthened your resolve.

Days in class were an intricate dance of restraint and subtlety. You sat in your usual spot, taking notes diligently as Spencer lectured at the front of the room. His demeanor was calm, professional, every word deliberate. To the untrained eye, he was simply your professor, and you, his attentive student.

But beneath the surface, every glance, every fleeting moment of eye contact held a world of unspoken words. When he paused to scan the room, his gaze lingered on you a fraction too long. When he walked past your desk, the faintest brush of his presence sent a shiver down your spine.

After class, you remained behind under the pretense of asking a question. The other students filed out, their chatter fading as the door closed behind them.

Spencer glanced at you, his professional mask slipping slightly as he leaned against the desk. “Is this about the assignment?” He asked, his tone neutral but his eyes betraying a flicker of warmth.

“No,” you admitted, lowering your voice. “I just... I wanted to see you.”

His lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, and he nodded toward the door. “Wait for me outside. I’ll finish here and meet you in the library.”

The library had become your haven, a place where the world’s watchful eyes couldn’t reach you. Tucked away in the farthest corner, surrounded by shelves of dusty books, you found refuge in each other’s company.

Spencer sat across from you, his hand resting lightly over yours on the table. “You know,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the library, “this hiding... it’s maddening. But there’s something exhilarating about it too.”

You raised a brow, your lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Oh? Dr. Reid enjoys breaking the rules?”

A low chuckle escaped him, his fingers brushing against yours. “When it comes to you? I’ll break every rule there is.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you simply looked at him, your heart swelling with a mix of love and longing. “One more month,” you whispered. “Then no more hiding.”

“One more month,” he echoed, his voice filled with quiet determination. “And then I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

Until then, you would continue this delicate balancing act, cherishing the stolen moments and weathering the secrecy together. Because in the end, he was worth it. And you knew that no matter how many rules you had to break, how many boundaries you had to navigate, you would never let him go.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[cowboybeepboop]

Crave

"Y/N, is this... what you want?" 

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: You’re close friends with the two brothers from childhood, years of a debilitating crush on Sergei finally builds into something more. 

a/n: i just saw this movie like a couple days ago and all i can think of is needy virgin Sergei 😣 i didn’t proofread what so ever and also i wrote this in barely any time but i hope you all enjoy AND PLEASE IF YOU HAVE ANY KRAVEN REQUESTS SEND THEM MY WAY IM CRAVING THIS MAN

It's been a few successful days in avoiding the two brothers, you do this every year, like clockwork. Whenever Sergei comes back home, you distract yourself and stay away the best you can. It’s not worth the heartbreak to see him leave over and over again. 

Dimitri has been calling you nightly, but each night you can hear the sounds of Sergei in the background. He plagues your thoughts, your dreams, your days. All you can think about is the warmth of his skin under your fingers and the gentleness of his touch. 

You shudder as your eyes shut, warmth pooling in your panties as your mind wanders back to him. "Dimitri.. I've gotta go," you murmur into the phone. "I'm going to get some drinks with my friend here soon." 

Dimitri replies enthusiastically, agreeing with your choice. He wishes you goodnight and hangs up the phone, leaving you with the image of Sergei's intense gaze, the feel of his muscles under your fingertips, and the lingering warmth in your stomach.

You can't shake the thoughts, the images of him constantly swirling in your head, the way his voice changes when he speaks, the touch of his hands. It haunts your dreams, and you can't help but feel an unexplainable intrigue and a growing desire for him.

You quickly get changed, ready for a night of reckless distraction, desperately seeking a way to forget about the complex hunter. You head out, the cool night air hitting your skin, the music getting louder and louder as you approach the club. 

You arrive, and the thumping music and flashing lights engulf you, offering a temporary escape from your thoughts of the man who has been plaguing your mind. Taking in the overwhelming atmosphere of the club, the loud music, the flashing lights, and the sea of bodies, all of it works together to create a sense of chaos and excitement. 

Despite the distraction, you can't shake the sensation of being watched, it lingers even as the bouncer returns your ID. Your mind drifts back to Sergei, and the memory of his intense gaze lingers in your thoughts, almost as if you sense his presence somewhere nearby.

You try to shake off the feeling getting a few shots to distract yourself and calm your wandering mind. As time passes, you've found your target: he's a decent-looking man, with a similar haircut to Sergei, a gentle demeanor, and he has a nice smile. He's good enough for what you need him for.  

The two of you exit the building, the chill midnight air freezing your skin immediately, the man you're with clutches his jacket tighter. Obviously showing a lack of interest in helping you cover your skin. 

Despite being with this man, you still can't entirely shake the feeling of being watched. It lingers, a constant reminder of the man you're trying to forget. Sergei watches from afar, his jaw clenched as he notices your shiver. You whip your head around, looking for the eyes that are following your every move. 

You can't see him, but he's still there, standing in the shadow of a dimly lit alleyway. His eyes follow your every move, observing your interactions with the man beside you. His jaw remains tight, his gaze cold and intense. 

As you whip around, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the darkness, just beyond the reach of the dim street light. It’s subtle, but the feeling of being observed lingers.

Unfortunately, this night will not be filled with any sort of satisfaction as you notice a group of men dressed in dark clothes, weapons hidden in their pockets. "Fuck." you whisper, using your arms to cover your skin the best you can.

The men approach, their intentions unclear, and the tension in the air is palpable. The cold wind bites at your skin, and you can't help but wrap your arms around yourself, your teeth chatter, and goosebumps rise on your skin, yet you can sense another gaze watching you, fixated, observing your every move.

Before you have time to react Sergei approaches from the shadows, giving the group a warning look as he steps closer to you. The men stop in their tracks, their gazes shifting to the imposing figure stepping out of the darkness. 

Their muscles tense, and they exchange hesitant glances as Sergei approaches closer, his presence radiating danger, his piercing eyes fixed on the men in front of you.

His hands are gentle on your shoulder, causing you to jump as you turn to look at him, you immediately relax when you recognize him. Finding comfort in his strong protective arms. 

His touch carries reassurance, his big, sturdy hands gently resting on your shoulder, offering a subtle sense of security. His eyes, no matter how cold they seem, convey a flicker of concern, a flicker of reassurance that speaks more than words. 

The tension lingers, but the warmth of his touch somehow seems to offer a moment of tranquility, a gentle comfort despite the surrounding danger.

Sergei removes his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders to keep you warm. "I suggest you all disperse, go your separate ways," he warns with narrowed eyes. The men listen, running in different directions, even your date scurries away. 

The men disperse hurriedly, leaving you and Sergei standing alone in the cold, the sounds of the night filling the air around you. You shiver, the cold air seeping through your clothing, but the warmth of his jacket offers some comfort, the fabric soft against your skin. The tension in the air is now replaced by a hushed stillness, save for the faint noise from the club behind you.

"You scared away my date.." you whisper, turning to face him while gripping the coat around you tightly. 

He stands there, the cold air mixing with his breath, his expression cool and composed, but there's a hint of sincerity in his gaze as he looks at you. His voice, low and measured, responds to your words.

"Your choice in company leaves much to be desired." He watches you, studying your shivering form, seeing how you clutch his jacket tightly for warmth.

"I suppose you're right," you move closer to him, craving the warmth of his skin. "But, I did have a plan for how my Friday night would go." Sergei begins to lead you in the direction of your apartment, his hands gentle on your frame.

He walks beside you, his presence towering above you, his movements deliberate and measured. He remains silent as he guides you towards your apartment. 

He glances at you from the corner of his gaze, seeing how you instinctively lean into him, seeking his heat and protection. He can't help but notice the way you grasp his coat, his gaze flickering to your hand gripping the fabric.

Once you reach the building you face him once again, the alcohol mixing with your unwavering horniness as you study his features. "Sergei.." you whisper his name, stomach twisting with desire. 

His eyes meet yours, his icy gaze studying your face as you say his name. His eyes flick between yours, the sound of his name causing a subtle reaction in his expression, a flicker of some unknown emotion.

"Yes, Y/N?" His voice is composed but holds a hint of something unfamiliar, something subtle and hard to discern, perhaps an echo of a memory or a flicker of feelings he thought were long-forgotten.

"Don't say my name like that," you whine, your eyebrows furrowing with frustration. 

His eyebrows raise slightly with curiosity upon hearing your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his eyes. He studies the frustration in your expression, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

"How else should I say it?" He asks, his voice quiet but measured, a hint of genuine curiosity in his words. Despite his icy demeanor, there's a hint of gentle protectiveness as he looks at you, trying to figure out why the way he said your name made you react with frustration.

You groan, turning away from him, your body aching for his touch. "Forget it, I should get inside. It's cold." 

He follows you into the building, the door closing behind you both. The sound of the city seems to fade away, replaced by the stillness of the hallway. 

He studies you, noticing your frustrated groan and the way you turn away from him. As you stand there, he can sense your frustration, the unspoken desires still hanging between you two. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"  He asks, his voice quiet and measured. He watches you, feeling a pang of curiosity as to why you seemed to grow frustrated at the mere sound of his voice.

You unlock the door to your apartment, the neediness in his tone making your panties soaked. "Sergei..." you practically whine his name, frustrated with the lack of awareness he has of how much he's affecting you.

As you unlock the door, his eyes flick to yours, the slight desperation evident in your voice causing his gaze to soften even further, his eyes fixated on you. He follows you inside the door, his eyes trained on your face. 

There's a noticeable pause, a slight shift in the air. He can sense the tension and the subtle emotions hidden beneath your frustration, but he seems unaware of the impact he's having on you.

"Y/N..." He responds gently, his voice carrying a hint of a question, a tinge of hesitance as if he senses something but can't quite tell what.

You squeeze your thighs tightly together, "Don't say it like that.." you gasp, he finally catches on to your behavior. The scent of your arousal fills his nostrils. 

He's still for a moment, the realization seems to dawn on him, a subtle shift in his expression, and his eyes widen a bit as he stands there silently. The air feels heavy with your arousal, the scent filling his senses, the realization hitting him like a sudden wave. 

He stares at you, his eyes tracing the way you squeeze your thighs together, trying to hide the visible effect he's having on you.

"Like what?" He asks quietly, his voice low, as if he knows the answer, but needs your confirmation. His eyes remain fixated on you, taking in every tiny movement, every little sign of your arousal. 

There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of a realization that he may be the cause of your frustration.

"I can't.." you sigh, reaching out to touch his firm abs, "The way you're saying my name.. it turns me on." you press your face into his chest, craving his touch. 

A shiver runs through his body at your words, the touch of your hand against his abs, and the way you press your face to his chest. He seems to tense up for a moment, caught off guard by your words and the way you press against him.

He stands there, still trying to process your admission, his expression unreadable, his eyes fixed on you as you nuzzle against him, the tension between you almost palpable.

"Sergei.. Say something, anything.." you murmur, pulling away from him reluctantly. 

His breath catches in his throat, and his chest heaves as he stares down at you, the scent of your arousal flooding his senses. He's silent for a moment, still trying to comprehend the effect he has on you, his heart beats a bit faster, and his words seem to get stuck in his throat.

"Y/N..." He murmurs softly, almost hesitantly, his voice carrying a slight tremble as he tries to choose the right words amidst his unexpected arousal.

You take his hand in yours, leading it towards your aching cunt. "Sergei.. please.." 

His eyes widen slightly at the gentle touch of your hand, his breath is sharp as he feels the soft heat of your body. His fingers tense as you lead his hand, a mix of bewilderment and arousal coursing through him. He follows your lead, his touch gentle as he moves as you guide him. 

"Y/N.." He exhales, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes holding a hint of uncertainty as he looks at you, his gaze flickering between your face and his hand as you guide it to where you need it most.

You moan as his fingers brush over the growing wet spot, your body shaking with anticipation. 

He can feel the heat of your arousal through your clothes, a shiver runs through his body, goosebumps rise on his skin, and his eyes hold a mix of surprise and a subtle hunger. His touch lingers for a moment, his fingers just tracing the growing wetness, his voice wavering as he speaks.

He swallows hard, his words still hesitant, a breathless tone to his voice. "I don't know what... I'm doing..."

You guide his hand under the fabric of your panties, silently begging him to please you, to take control. You're too far gone to process the words he murmured, lust clouding your mind. 

He takes a deep breath as his fingers move under the fabric of your panties, the touch sending a bolt of electricity through him, his whole body seems to shudder at the sensation. His eyes hold a mix of uncertainty and a sudden surge of arousal as he tries to understand what he's feeling.

"Y/N, is this... what you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse as he speaks, his other hand gripping your waist, his fingers holding onto you needily despite his uncertainty.

"Yes… Yes please," you whine, fingers pressing into his as you guide his movements against your clit.

His breath catches as you guide his fingers, a low, almost guttural groan escaping him, his fingers press into you, trying to find the right rhythm. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his body pressed closer to you. 

"Like this?" He asks almost hesitantly, his words coming out in a rush, the tension between you both rising by the second.

You moan desperately, body shuddering as his rough fingers tease your swollen pearl. "Exactly like this.." your breathing becomes uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

He can feel the effect his touch has on you, the sounds that escape you pushing him forward, the feeling of you responding to his touch. His breathing grows heavier, and his hand moves between your thighs, fingers pressing and teasing exactly as you guide him, a surge of arousal coursing through him at your sounds. 

"I want to make you feel good, Y/N," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a growing hunger, but still a hint of uncertainty, as if he's not entirely sure of what to do.

Your moans become more needy, using your free hand you pull his face to yours desperately kissing him. Your legs tremble as you cum, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clench around his arm.

The suddenness of your kiss catches him off guard, his lips respond to yours urgently, a mixture of hunger and a subtle hesitancy in his movements. As you moan and tremble, he can feel it in every inch of his body, his own arousal growing at the sound of your pleasure. 

He kisses you back with a mix of need and an undeniable arousal, his strong arm holding you tightly against him. He can sense the tension breaking, your nails gripping tightly to him, your body pressing desperately into his touch, the heat and the taste of your lips driving him wild.

You shudder, leaning forward and pressing a few soft kisses into his neck as all the tension leaves you. "Fuck, Sergei.. so good.." you murmur, eyes fluttering shut as you slide your fingers over the marks you left on his back, gently soothing the reddened scratches.

He moans softly as you press kisses against his neck, a low, pleased rumble escaping his chest. He pulls you closer against him, his body pressed flush with yours as he wraps his arms around you. A mix of feelings swirling within him, uncertainty and hunger, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. 

His grip on you tightens slightly, holding you in place as you soothe the scratches you left behind, a subtle shiver running down his spine as your fingers graze over the marks. His heart pounds furiously in his chest, his body responding to every touch and every sound you make.

You slip out of his grasp, leading him to your bedroom as you slide out of your dress, standing in front of him in just your panties and bra. "I need you.." you whisper, eyes full of desire.

He follows you to the bedroom, his eyes scanning your body as you slip out of your dress, his gaze dark and intense as he takes in your form. His heart beats furiously in his chest, the hunger growing inside him, a mix of desire and uncertainty as his eyes roam over you. 

A low, quiet moan escapes him, his voice hoarse and filled with longing as he responds to your words. "I need you too, Y/N, I'm just unsure.. I've never..." He hesitates, his eyes filled with a combination of uncertainty and a growing hunger that he can no longer deny.

"It's all instincts," you murmur, bringing his hands to your breasts. "I can teach you... but just do what feels right." you brush your thumb over his cheekbone.

He swallows hard at your words, his eyes fixed on your form as his hands move to your breasts, a mix of uncertainty and a growing hunger filling him. As his palms cup your chest, he exhales deeply, his breath catching in his throat. He nods in response to your words, his eyes searching for guidance as he looks into yours. 

You reach back and unclasp your bra, freeing your chest to his hungry gaze, sliding out of your underwear and moving to undress him. 

A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes fixed on your chest, his gaze filled with hunger and a growing need. He can feel the anticipation coursing through him, his breath catching as you undress him, his heart beating thunderously in his chest. 

He can't help but respond to your touch, his body is eager for your guidance. As you move to undress him, his eyes linger on you, taking in every little detail as his mind seems to be clouded by arousal, a mix of lust and an unfamiliar sensation he can't quite name.

He slowly lowers himself onto his knees, his gaze dark and lustful as he stares up at you. Sergei presses wet kisses onto your thighs, the scent of your cunt making his eyes roll back as he spreads your legs. 

There's a mix of hunger and anticipation in his eyes as he drops to his knees before you, his gaze intense and dark with a growing desire, his hands caressing your thighs. As his kisses travel along your thighs, his breathing grows heavier, his eyes rolling back as he takes in the scent of your desires. 

He looks up at you, a mix of hunger and a subtle uncertainty in his gaze as he runs his tongue along your inner thigh, his movements gentle as if he's trying to gauge your reaction, to figure out what to do.

Your legs spread wider, giving him room to bury his face into your soaking pussy. He sticks his tongue out, slowly licking up your wetness, and his hands grasp onto your hipbones pulling you closer. 

He can feel the warmth and wetness against his lips, and his tongue flickers over your sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your hipbones tightens, pulling you closer to him, his fingers pressing into your smooth flesh. 

“Fuck..” you moan eyes fluttering shut as you lurch forward, his tongue slips into your pulsing hole, lapping up every liquid. Your hips instinctively begin to move against his mouth, grinding against his stubble. 

His eyes are trained on your face, watching every bit of pleasure wash over you. His mouth moves to your clit, his tongue gently brushing over the sensitive bud causing you to jolt and let out a needy moan. 

“Right there, jus’ like that..” you whine, fingers twisting in his hair as moans fall from your open mouth. He does as you instruct, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue teasing it roughly as his hunger grows. 

You let out a gasp, eyes rolling back in your head as you tremble, legs growing weak. Sergei holds your body up his mouth working against you as he chases your orgasm. 

Tears brim your eyes as the pleasure overwhelms you, with a loud moan you finally let go, cum spilling from you as you press onto his face trying to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit. 

He keeps lapping up at the liquids, hungry for more. “Sergei.. no more..” you whine, shaking above him. 

His face is glazed as he stands up, he can taste you on his lips, the hunger in his eyes still evident. He stands before you, his eyes filled with lust and a mix of newfound confidence. He looks you up and down, his eyes lingering on your trembling form as he holds onto you, trying to steady you.

You pull him into another hungry kiss, feeling his hands explore your body as he palms your breasts. His fingers tweaking your nipples as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap. 

He responds to your kiss with urgency and need, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every curve and contour, tracing over your skin with a kind of hunger and reverence. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, his grip firmer now, his own need and hunger growing more intense. 

He breaks the kiss, his breath heavy as he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and a hint of something more, a feeling that he can't quite comprehend.

“You’re so hard..” you murmur, feeling his clothed length pressing into your wet cunt. 

He moans softly at the feeling, his breath catches as you speak, and a low growl escapes him as he responds. "You... do this to me." His voice is low, his hands gripping your hips firmly, guiding you closer to him. "I can't control this... this feeling. I need you..." He admits, the sensations coursing through him overwhelming, his body responding to your proximity to him.

You begin to slowly move your hips against his, shaking as the roughness of the fabric brushes over your overstimulated clit. "Then take me.." you whisper into his ear, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He growls softly, his breath catches in his throat as you move against him, his senses flooding with sensations, his breathing is shallow, and his hands tighten on your hips. His eyes burn with hunger, his body moving in unison with yours. "I don't know if I can be gentle, Y/N," he whispers, his voice hoarse and desperate, "I need you. Now."

With trembling hands, Sergei guides you back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't ignore the need pounding through him, but he's cautious, knowing this is new to him. He carefully positions himself over you, his large hands supporting his weight as he aligns his cock with your entrance. 

His eyes flicker with uncertainty, but the heat in them is unmistakable. "Y/N, are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. You nod eagerly, your body arching up to meet his. He takes a deep breath, and with one swift, gentle thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. 

His eyes squeeze shut tightly as he feels you stretch around him, his whole body shaking with the effort to hold back his desire. He's so thick, so warm, and the sensation sends a new wave of pleasure through your core. 

"So good," he murmurs against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he starts to move, his hips tentatively pushing in and out. His inexperience is evident in his careful movements, but the need in his touch, the way his body responds to yours, is undeniably erotic. 

You wrap your legs around him, urging him to go deeper, and he responds, his strokes becoming more confident as he finds a rhythm that has you both panting and moaning in sync. Despite his lack of experience, his instincts guide him, and every touch, every stroke feels like it was designed to make you lose control. 

His gentle, yet firm grip on your hips, the way he kisses and nips at your neck, it's all too much, and you can feel another orgasm building, threatening to shatter you apart. "Y/N... I'm... I'm going to... " he stammers, his body tensing as he nears his release. 

With a final, deep thrust, he fills you with his stringy thick cum, his body collapsing on top of yours, his breath hot against your neck. He reaches down to your clit, brushing his forefinger over it desperate to make you cum again. 

A few more strokes cause you to shudder and tremble around his, your pussy clenching around his cock as you cum. “Holy shit.. you’re so good,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his hungrily.