#he looks terribly cute in your style

[canisalbus]

I could not stop thinking about the socks of Machete, so adorable 😭✨️ it's giving Cinderella but make it cosy

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[belladonnaprice]

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[raggedytiger]

I'M SWINGING YOU AROUND. IN MY ARMS. RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE KIDDING ME

All in One Day

All in one day

We ate, we drank,

We sung, we screamed

We laughed, We cried.

And, for the first time,

I realized that

You were real

And I was real.

And holy shit

We’re here.

Hello everyone! Today I bring you some Penny and Agatha stuff, originally created by the lovely @raggedytiger and their ask blog penny-and-agatha. I honestly can’t stop thinking about what would happen when Pomni and Ragatha get out of the circus. What would they do? I thought about it so much, in fact, that I drew it. The one above is inspired by this post where I imagined they tried to do everything in one day. The second is below, as I thought about them having a target date :)

Also I couldn’t help but think about the others and I drew them as well (try and guess who’s my favorite)

For clarification: these are MY takes on the freed characters, not Raggedytiger’s. If you want their designs, wait till they post them :)

Also, my headcanon for if they ever get freed is that the circus was trying to help them. It’s like an even more fucked up infinity train. Everyone (except for Kinger, he’s long gone) comes out a better/happier person.

[devotion-disorder]

be careful what you wish for...the village Killian's from is having a bit of a population crisis right now, and having a nice little human come by could be just what they need...

Oh noooo....I'm just a naive human lost in this big forest with no one waiting for me...would be a shame if some beautiful elves whisked me away and brainwashed me into thinking I'm their pet/breeding machine and only need their "love and devotion". That would be terrible /silly

- 🩵

wdym the beautiful elf men do not, in fact, have my best interests in mind and were planning something nefarious from the start </3 I was just gonna write down some quick thoughts but it kinda got out of hand LOL

Content warning for: implied drugging (hypnotics, aphrodisiacs), dubcon/ noncon touching (nothing explicit though), manipulation, slight obsessive/ yandere themes, general elven condescension?

Imagine that you’ve accidentally wandered too deep into the forest and lost your way, your shoes hardly holding up in the rough terrain, and the last remaining rays of the setting sun are snuffed out by the overgrown foliage…

To make things worse, you walk right into some sort of trap - a stumbling step is all it takes to activate the runic trip switch, and a suffocating cloud of purple gas is the last thing you remember before things fade to dark…

How clumsy of you! Good thing Priest Killian happened to be on his evening walks when he spotted your pitiful form twitching and writhing in the hunting trap he’d set up; carefully he scooped you up and went his way back to the village. Only the most observant would be able to discern that the Priests’ unmoving smile seemed a bit wider than usual.

It was a trap the elves set up for hunting animals, he’d explained. The poison was almost enough to be fatal, had he not been there in time to save you. It’ll also take a bit for all the toxins to be out of your system. No worries though, because Killian offers to take care of you in his quarters until you’re up on your feet again. 

You don’t even remember if you’d managed to give a response, what with lead-heavy limbs and relentless migraine pulsing in your head. Luckily, Killian treated you with utmost care. 3 meals a day (along with the antidote treatment) brought to your bed (well, his bed), and spoon-fed to you because you were too weak to even sit up. He massaged your stiff muscles and brushed your hair. He ran warm baths and washed you – and even then he never opened his eyes – so at least there was some comfort in that.

Under Killian’s care you gradually regain your strength, save for the occasional dizzy spell and fatigue. But he saved your life after all! Feeling indebted to him, you offer to stay longer in the village to help around. While Killian’s expression is ever-unreadable, you can’t help but sense a bit of…amusement from him upon your suggestion. Regardless, he agrees – so long as you agree not to wander too far outside the village, because it’s very dangerous out there, he said.

And of course, he maintained a watchful eye over you, shadowing your tottering form as you went around introducing yourself to the other villagers. How cute.

You worked whatever odd jobs the elves had for you. which isn’t much at all. Mostly just menial tasks, or perhaps relaying messages. Things that they could’ve easily done themselves with their magic, but it’s fun watching an over-enthusiastic little human do it instead, so eager to please. You would say they are…endeared, perhaps. Or maybe they’re just looking out for you, what with your unfinished recovery. Anyhow, the elves are charmed by the newfound presence in the village.

Killian gifts you a new set of clothes, made by the local tailor (you don’t remember visiting a tailor for measurements at any point though, strange). To help you feel more at home, he said. It's pretty, a delicate garment that flutters cool against your skin in the warm summer heat, with an unmistakably elven style of elegance. It is a little short but, well, elves are known for being tall so maybe they're not used to human proportions? The white silk is a bit sheer in places, and you tried to ignore how it clung to the contours of your body when you sweat…

You hadn’t expected elves to be so openly affectionate. Being a long-living race known for their high culture and intelligence, it made for the perception that they were maybe a bit prudish, engrossed in their endless pursuit of finer things to care about lowly desires. But you suppose the elves are as curious of you as you are of them. You got to know some of them quite well, and soon it was routine for them to envelop you in their embrace. They pet your hair and nuzzle into your neck (Killian said something about how common skinship is in elven culture), at times slipping their digits beneath your clothes…sometimes you don't really remember, because the medicine still made you a bit sluggish. But it's ok! Their affectionate nature is a surprise but one you welcome. You think. 

During all of which, your treatment continued. Just a little longer, Killian promised. The side-effects seem to show no sign of waning, if not worsening at times. Sometimes you struggle to recall what has happened and what has not. The elves didn’t seem to mind, gladly cradling your tired body when you are overcome with sudden bounds of weakness. You poor little thing, they cooed, one hand combing through your hair to distract you from their other that wandered along your body.

Some days the medicine leaves you feeling more flushed than usual, and a strange feeling you can’t quite place invades your senses; a deep, frustrating kind of yearning that throbbed in your core. You assume it's the side-effects of advanced elf sorcery/ enchantment in your antidote treatment. It’s a tad embarrassing, but you can’t really do anything about it when the elves (if not the Priest himself) check in on you so frequently. 

Your only reprieve comes when Killian slots himself snug against your smaller form at bedtime. Were you always this close? You’re not sure if you recall, trying desperately to suppress the suggestive thoughts flooding your brain. His cool hands trail over your body, and it feels way too good against your overheating skin, so good that you can’t even think about resisting as his lips come crashing on top of yours, when he slips his arm underneath your waist to push you closer, closer against him.

Stumbling out of Killian’s quarters in the dead of night, confused, and your vision blurred by hot tears, all you can think about is getting away from him, from this godforsaken place. The other elves stepped out of their houses from the commotion. It was as if something in the air shifted. Their friendly, curious pretenses have dropped completely, leaving a ravenous hunger and unyielding need in their place. The way they leer at your body, the disheveled elven outfit failing to provide much cover, makes your hair stand on their ends. The elves close in on you, their concerned voices laced with something unmistakably sinister. You’re trapped.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your stupor.

“Now, now, I’m sure we’re all very excited about our little one here, but everyone will have their turn sooner or later.” Killian explains. He leans close to your ear, whispering in a volume only audible to you. “Look at you getting everyone so riled up already. Aren’t you such a needy little pet?” You’re paralyzed in fear, but his husky voice in your ears is still setting your nerves alight. 

“I’ll give you two choices. Either you let me 'take care of you' back at home,” his arms snaked around your body again, lithe fingers fanning across your thighs. “Or we’ll give everyone a show, and maybe let them get...a preemptive taste, as well. What’ll it be?”

[itneverendshere]

LOOKIN' LIKE MOTIVATION - hockey!r.c (+18)

requested by my #1 @zya4lifers

warnings: meantions of cheating; SMUT. pairing: sports physical therapist!reader x hockey player!rafe; friends to lovers.

Rafe’s day started the same way it had for the last two months: with a groan of pain that shot up from his knee and settled into his mood like a stubborn storm cloud. 

He hated physical therapy, but what he hated more was sitting on the sidelines, watching his teammates on the ice while he was stuck on a cushioned table with resistance bands and an overenthusiastic sports medic, with hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and a pair of blue scrubs that somehow still looked cute on you.

At least that was what he thought when he first met you. 

But two weeks in, his hatred had morphed into something else entirely, something way more complicated. He wasn’t sure when it happened—maybe when he caught you singing quietly along with the radio while taping up his knee, or when you’d given him that first, honest-to-God smile that wasn’t out of politeness but genuine amusement at some stupid joke he’d made.

And he made a lot of those. 

Now, sitting on that same damn table, Rafe found himself looking forward to PT in a way that had nothing to do with his injury.

You walked in, clipboard in hand, looking as professional as always. It was kind of cute, the way you tried so hard to keep things strictly professional between the two of you.

Rafe knew he got under your skin—hell, he made sure of it. He could tell by the way your eyes flicked up to meet his for just a second longer than necessary before you quickly looked away. You tried to be cool, but he knew better.

“Alright, Cameron. How’s the knee today?”

He put on his best wounded-puppy face. “Terrible. I might never skate again.”

“Shut up.”

“And I could be better,” Rafe drawled, his lips curling into that signature smirk. “But seeing you always helps.”

You rolled your eyes, but he saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time,” he shot back, winking at you.

You tried to ignore him, busying yourself with adjusting the equipment. “Let’s focus on your knee, alright?”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Rafe said, stretching out on the table with a lazy grin.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched up. “We’ve got to work on your pain tolerance.”

He couldn’t resist. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to keep me on my toes.”

Finally, you looked up, your expression deadpan.

“And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to avoid actually doing your therapy, Cameron.”

Touché.

He liked the way you said his name—like you were in control, like you were the one calling the shots.

It was refreshing. 

The first few minutes of the session passed in relative silence as you guided him through the exercises, your hands expertly working his injured knee. Rafe winced, but it wasn’t all from the pain.

It was from trying to resist the need to say something that might actually cross the line.

But resisting wasn’t really his style.

“So, what’s your boyfriend up to this weekend?” Rafe asked, his voice casual, but his eyes keen, watching your reaction.

You weren’t the kind of girl to fall for a player, especially one with a reputation like Rafe’s.

Besides, you were already with someone. Logan—the clean-cut, dependable defenseman from a rival school. You’d been together for over a year, and things were great.

You looked up at him, a little caught off guard.

“Out of town.”

Rafe snorted, unable to help himself. “Figures.”

You frowned, straightening up to give him a look. That look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nothing.”

“He’s busy,” you said defensively.

“Too busy for you?” he pushed, his tone dripping with faux concern. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, I’d make time.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, “I’m sure you would.”

“You don’t think I would?”

“I think you’ve already got your hands full with the cheerleading team.” 

He liked to pretend you sounded jealous and not critical. 

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Cheerleaders are fun and all, but they’re not really my type.”

Okay, that was half a lie, but in his defense, he hadn’t slept with anyone on the cheer squad since sophomore year in college.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as you adjusted the strap on his knee brace. “And what exactly is your type, Cameron?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “Complicated. Smart. Gorgeous.”

You didn’t miss a beat, even as your pulse quickened. “So, basically the opposite of you?”

He grinned, like a stupidly in love sick puppy, unbothered by the jab. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile threatening to break through. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied smoothly, his eyes locked on yours.

There was no denying the chemistry, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. But you were with someone else, someone who, despite his flaws, you cared about.

Still, Rafe made it hard to remember why you were trying to resist in the first place.

“Rafe, we really should focus on your PT,” you chastised, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

“Trust me, m’focusing,” he replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t talking about his knee.

You rolled your eyes, standing up straighter to put some distance between you. 

“Right. Well, you need to focus on this next exercise. We’re going to work on your range of motion.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, watching you with a lazy smile as you moved to demonstrate the exercise.

He couldn’t help but admire the way you carried yourself—confident, knowledgeable, and completely fucking beautiful.

It was a challenge, and Rafe Cameron loved a challenge.

As you guided his leg through the motion, your hands firm but gentle, he couldn’t resist pushing a little more. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“What question?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“What you’re doing this weekend.”

You glanced away, focusing on the movement of his knee, your fingers brushing against his skin as you adjusted the angle. “I’ll probably just catch up on some work. Maybe relax.”

“Sounds boring,” Rafe remarked, then adding most absolute out of pocket suggestion. “You should let me take you out.”

You looked up sharply, caught off guard by his directness. “Rafe, I’m—”

“Taken, I know,” he interrupted, biting his tongue not to add the unfortunately’. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun, does it? Just as friends.”

“Just as friends?” you echoed skeptically, knowing full well what his idea of ‘just friends’ probably entailed.

Rafe shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “We could get dinner, maybe hit up a bar, talk about something other than my knee for once. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“No.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, before it came back stronger, more determined. He leaned back on the table, pretending to stretch as he tried to ignore how much your rejection hurt his feelings.

"No?" he echoed, as if the concept was foreign to him.

You crossed your arms, standing straighter. "No. We both know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to happen."

"And what exactly am I trying to do?" he asked, feigning innocence with a earth shattering smirk that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to get drawn into his game. "You know what. I’m here to help you with your injury, not to entertain whatever fantasy you’ve got going on."

"Who says it’s a fantasy?" he shot back, his voice lowering, taking on a more serious tone that caught you off guard. "Maybe I just want to get to know you better."

You paused, searching his face for any sign of sincerity. But he was hard to read when he wanted to be. "Rafe, you're a good guy, but—"

"Good guy?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe me like that."

"Fine," you conceded with a small smile. "Maybe ‘good’ is a stretch. But you’re not as bad as you want people to think."

Rafe’s smirk faded. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and it made you hesitate, made you wonder if there was more to him than just the cocky, relentless flirt.

But before you could dwell on it, he was back to his usual self, flashing you that devil-may-care grin that made it hard to stay mad at him. "You know, I’d actually take that as a compliment if it came from anyone else."

"Don’t get too excited," you replied, trying to keep things light. "I still think you’re a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass," he teased, stupidly blinking his lashes up at you.

You shook your head, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. "You really don’t give up, do you?"

"Not when it comes to something I want," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

"Cameron, this isn’t going to happen. I have a boyfriend."

He shrugged, unbothered. "And? You’re no fun. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You handed him a water bottle, expression neutral. “You’re just out of shape.”

“Out of shape?” He looked at her, incredulous. “Do you see this body?”

You didn’t take the bait. “I see a guy who’s been slacking off on his conditioning.”

He laughed, low and warm, as he took a sip of water. “You’re tough. Tougher than most of the coaches I’ve had.”

You shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

 “Logan’s a lucky guy.”

The hockey world was small, and word got around, of course he knew his name.

“Logan’s great,” you said, a little too quickly.

Rafe nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.”

He didn’t push it further, though. Instead, he fell back into his usual routine of teasing and flirting.

Every time you guided his leg through a stretch or adjusted the equipment, he found his mind wandering, imagining what it would be like if things were different. If he were the one you were coming home to after a long day, if he were the one you smiled at without that guarded look in your eyes.

But you were with Logan, and as much as he hated to admit it, Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to cross that line. Not when you were clearly trying so hard to keep things professional between the two of you.

As the session wrapped up, you handed him his schedule for the next few days, “I’ll see you on Thursday. Make sure you keep up with the exercises over the next couple of days, and don’t overdo it.”

He took the paper from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

 “Can’t make any promises.”

He spent the weekend bored out of his mind, thinking about you—wondering if you were with Logan, if the guy was actually smart enough to know what he had.

He hated Logan more than he hated the pain in his knee.

The guy was too perfect, too dependable, too fucking boring. And he had been praying, in a way he wouldn’t admit to anyone, that something would happen—something that would make you see Logan for the jackass he really was. It wasn’t that he thought he was a better guy; he knew his own flaws better than anyone. But he also knew that he could make you happier, make you laugh harder, make you feel things that Logan never could.

So when you walked in late to the next session, he was ready to make a joke, to tease you about finally deciding to show up.

The words died on his lips when he saw you. You weren’t looking at him, not really, just muttering a half-hearted apology as you dropped your bag in the corner. But when you finally met his gaze, his chest did that stupid thing where it almost stopped. Not in a good way.

Your eyes were bloodshot red, the kind of red that came from hours of crying, from tears that wouldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried. You looked exhausted, like you hadn’t slept in days, and your usual spark was nowhere to be found.

His first instinct was to make a joke, to lighten the mood the way he always did, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked like that.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice void of its usual cockiness. “You okay?”

You nodded, but it was the kind of nod that was meant to shut someone up, not because you actually meant it. You were far from okay.

“You’re late,” he said, his tone teasing, but even he could hear the concern underneath.

“I know, sorry,” you replied, your voice small, almost defeated.

Rafe frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. This wasn’t like you. You were always so put together, so in control, and seeing you like this was…so unsettling.

“What happened?” he asked, more serious now, the joking tone completely gone.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you busied yourself with the equipment, but Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easily. Not when he could see the pain written all over your face.

“C’mon sweetheart, what’s going on?” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Did something happen with Logan?”

The way you flinched at his name told him everything he needed to know.

Protectiveness instantly swelled inside him. He’d always thought Logan was too good to be true, but seeing you like this confirmed it.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that he usually kept hidden from you, saved it for the ice. “Because if he did, I swear to God—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice cracking as you finally looked at him, “I mean, yes, but… it’s not like that.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “What did he do?”

You hesitated, the words trapped in your throat as you tried to hold it together. But there was no point in pretending anymore, not when Rafe was looking at you like that—like he actually cared, like he was ready to go to war for you if that’s what it took.

“He cheated,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling as the tears you’d been holding back started to spill over. “I found out through a fucking DM on Instagram. Some girl… she just messaged me out of the blue and told me everything. And when I confronted him, he didn’t even deny it. He just—just said it wasn’t a big deal.”

Rafe’s vision blurred with red-hot anger. The kind of emotion he only felt when his team was being robbed by referees or losing.

He wanted to find Logan and beat the shit out of him for making you cry, for being stupid enough to let you go. But more than that, he wanted to make you feel better, to make the hurt go away, even if he didn’t know how.

“That fucking asshole,” He growled, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “I swear to God, I’ll—let me get on that ice and I’ll wipe the entire ring with his face.”

“Rafe, don’t,” you pleaded quickly, cutting him off. “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it, okay?”

His heart twisted at the broken look in your eyes, the way your voice wavered as if you didn’t quite believe your own words.

“He’s not worth you,” Rafe rebutted, stepping closer, his anger replaced by something gentler, “You deserve better than that. Way better.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t like him to be so serious. But here he was, looking at you like you were the most important person in the world, and it made you want to cry even more.

“I don’t know what I deserve anymore,” you admitted. He reached out, hesitating for just a second before he gently held your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had finally escaped.

“You deserve someone who knows what they have when they have you,” he reassured you, his eyes locked on yours. “Someone who would never make you cry like this. Someone who would never, ever cheat on you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over at his words. “Rafe…”

“I’m serious,” he continued, not giving you a chance to doubt yourself again. “You’re… you’re amazing, you know that? Any guy would be lucky to have you, and Logan’s a fucking idiot for not seeing that.”

You shook your head, trying to keep it together, but it was no use.

You started to cry, the kind of deep, gut-wrenching sobs that you’d been holding in all weekend. And before you knew it, you were collapsing into his arms, letting him hold you as you cried, his arms strong and steady around you.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to shush you or tell you everything was going to be okay. He just held you, his hand slowly rubbing your back as you let it all out, crying into his chest until there were no more tears left.

When you finally pulled back, your face red and puffy from crying, you only uttered a small, “Thank you.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes practically glazed with love sickness as he looked down at you. “Anytime.”

And then, without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a soft, hesitant peck to his cheek, lingering for just a second before pulling away.

He blinked, a little stunned by the gesture, but before he could say anything, you stepped back.

“Do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?” you said quickly, your voice still shaky. “I’m not sure I-“

“Of course not.”

You breathed out in relief, “Thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He wanted to tell you to stay, to tell you that it was okay to not be okay, that you didn’t have to face this alone.

But he knew you needed space, needed time to process everything that had happened. He could wait. He’d wait forever for you.

“Yeah,” he said softly, nodding as you turned to leave. “Tomorrow.”

He wanted to be there for you, to be the one you turned to when everything fell apart. But more than that, he wanted to be the one to put you back together again, to show you that not all guys were like Logan—that he wasn’t like Logan.

And as you disappeared down the hallway, he made a silent promise to himself: he was going to make you see that. No matter what it took.

The weeks passed, each session with Rafe seamlessly flowing into the next. What started as this totally professional thing, strictly business, slowly morphed into something way more personal. His cocky jokes and playful banter had shifted into these deep conversations that actually mattered, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself getting closer to him than you ever expected.

Rafe’s knee had healed remarkably well, and now the day had arrived: his first game back on the ice.

As it drew near, a strange sense of anxiety started to mess with your head. Your life had become so closely tied to Rafe’s recovery over the past few months that the thought of him no longer needing your help—or your company—left you with an unsettling emptiness.

You were going to miss him.

You had prepared yourself for the possibility that he might distance himself once he was back on the ice. After all, athletes had their own lives, their own routines, and you were just the therapist who had helped him get to this point.

But when he invited you to his first game, the gesture came as a welcome. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he’d slowly lurked his way into your heart. 

It was after a particularly intense session, where you’d pushed him harder than ever before, that he brought it up. You were finishing up, wiping down the equipment while he caught his breath, stretching out his legs on the bench.

“Y’know sweetheart,” Rafe started, his voice casual but with a hint of something more in it, “I’ve got my first game back tomorrow night.”

You looked up, catching the not so subtle excitement in his tone.

“Yeah, I’ve heard. You must be excited.”

“Nervous as hell, more like it.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “It’s been a long time coming. A lot of pressure to perform, y’know?”

You nodded, understanding him. You’d seen how hard he’d worked, how much this comeback meant to him. “You’ll do great, Cameron. You’re more than ready.”

He smiled at that, but there was something else in his expression, something hesitant. “I was thinking…maybe you could come. To the game, I mean. It’d be nice to have someone there who’s seen the whole process, who knows what it took to get back on that ice.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest. It wasn’t just the invitation—it was what it represented. He didn’t just see you as the therapist who’d helped him heal.

He saw you as someone important, someone he wanted by his side as he took this next step. A friend maybe.

 “I’d love to, Rafe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Relief washed over his face, followed by a grin that was equal parts gratitude and something else— “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now, “because I’d hate for you to miss it. You’ve been a big part of this, more than you know.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself blushing under his gaze. 

“I’m just doing my job,” you shook your head, but the look in his eyes told you that he saw right through your attempt to downplay it.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad it’s you,” Rafe said, his voice earnest. “I don’t think I could’ve done this with anyone else.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you made it hard to breathe. This was more than just an invitation to a game. This was him telling you, in his own way, that you mattered to him—that you were more than just his therapist, that you were someone he wanted to keep around.

“I’m glad it was me too,” you admitted, unable to keep your eyes away from his.

“Tomorrow night, then.”

“Tomorrow night.”

Now, as you sit in the stands, watching Rafe skate out onto the ice, you feel a nervous anticipation that has little to do with the game itself.

Just before the puck drops, Rafe catches your eye, giving you a confident wink that sends your heart racing like a school girl. He knows what this game means, not just for him, but for you as well.

Logan is there, playing on the opposite team. You haven’t seen him in exactly two months. Whatever feelings you had for him disappeared the moment you found out about his betrayal, but your ego still hurts like hell.

The energy in the arena is electric, a buzz that makes his blood hum with anticipation. His first game back, and the stakes couldn’t be higher—not just because of his injury, not just because it’s a rivalry match, but because Logan is on the other side of the ice. Rafe’s jaw clenches at the thought of that bastard, the memory of your tear-streaked face still fresh in his mind.

During warm-ups, he spotted Logan, skating like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just thrown away the best thing that ever happened to him. Rafe’s grip tightens on his stick, his knuckles white against the black tape. The rage simmering beneath his skin isn’t just about the game. It’s personal.

His focus is razor-sharp, every movement precise, every play calculated. But no matter how much he tries to concentrate on the game, his eyes keep drifting back to Logan, who skates circles around the ice like he owns it.

The first period passes without incident, but by the second, the tension is boiling over. Rafe feels it building, that need to do something, to break Logan’s face in half. He doesn’t just want to beat him; he wants to humiliate him, to knock that smug look off his face once and for all.

Then it happens.

Midway through the second period, Logan makes a hard hit on one of Rafe’s teammates, sending the guy crashing into the boards. The hit is clean, but it’s the arrogance in Logan’s smirk that pushes Rafe over the edge.

He doesn’t hesitate. 

He skates straight at Logan, not bothering with any pretense. If Logan wants to play dirty, he is more than ready to play dirtier. Logan barely has time to react before Rafe drops his gloves, his intent crystal clear.

“You think you can just get away with that?” He snarls, his voice low and menacing as he shoves Logan hard in the chest, the force sending him stumbling back on his skates.

Logan’s eyes flash with surprise, quickly followed by anger. “What the hell’s your problem, Cameron?”

He doesn’t bother with a reply. 

He swings, his fist connecting solidly with Logan’s jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone against bone is drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but Rafe doesn’t care. He’s been waiting for this moment, waiting to unleash all the pent-up anger and frustration that’s been eating away at him since the day you walked into that PT room with your heart shattered.

Logan staggers back, his expression twisting with fury. He recovers quickly, launching himself at Rafe with a wild swing, but Rafe is ready. He dodges the punch and counters with another one of his own, this time aiming for Logan’s ribs. He can feel the impact reverberate up his arm, but it’s not enough. He wants more.

“Come on!” He shouts, face red from all the pent-up anger simmering inside him. “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”

Logan grits his teeth, struggling to keep his balance. “You’re fucking crazy, Cameron!”

“You haven't seen shit," He spits back, landing another punch to Logan’s midsection. “But at least I know how to treat someone right.”

Logan’s eyes widen, the realization of what this is really about dawning on him. “This is about her? You’re seriously going to throw down over some girl?”

Rafe’s vision goes red at the mention of you, the casual way Logan dismisses you as “some girl.” He doesn’t care that he’s going too far, doesn’t care that the refs are probably going to break this up any second. All he cares about is making Logan feel a fraction of the pain he caused you.

“You don’t get to talk about her,” He growls, grabbing Logan by the collar and yanking him close. “You don’t even get to think about her.”

Logan tries to shove him off, but Rafe is relentless, landing punch after punch, each one fueled by the memory of you crying in his arms, by the way your voice trembled when you told him what Logan had done.

By now, the refs are on them, trying to pull Rafe away, but he isn’t finished. Not yet.

“You don’t deserve her,” He hisses through clenched teeth, his fist connecting with Logan’s face one last time before the refs finally manage to separate them. “You never did.”

Logan stumbles back, his face a bloody mess, and for a brief moment, he feels a little satisfaction. But it isn’t enough to stop the anger, the frustration, the overwhelming need to protect you from ever being hurt like that again.

He sits in the penalty box, his chest heaving as he tries to calm the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He can barely hear the crowd over the sound of his own heartbeat, but he knows they’re going wild. The fight has been brutal, and he’s given Logan exactly what he deserved. But as the rush of the fight starts to fade, he starts to overthink: how will you react?

The game ends with a hard-fought win for his team, but the victory feels hollow. As his teammates celebrate on the ice, Rafe’s thoughts are miles away, fixated on you. What if you’re pissed? What if you think he’s overstepped?

After the final whistle, he makes his way to the locker room, his mind racing. He’s about to strip off his gear when he hears footsteps approaching, quick and determined. Before he can even turn around, the locker room door flies open, and there you are, marching straight toward him with a look on your face that he can’t quite read.

Shit. You’re mad.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, his voice low and uncertain as he holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I know that might’ve looked bad out there, but I swear—”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you grab the front of his jersey and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips against his with a force that takes him completely off guard.

His mind goes blank as all he can focus on is the way your mouth moves against his. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before—raw, heated, desperate.

His hands instantly find your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you flush against him, the heat of your bodies mingling in the small space between you. Your kiss is wild, all tongues and teeth, and when you bite down on his bottom lip, hard enough to make him groan, he realizes this is real.

You’re kissing him.

“Fuck,” he gasps against your mouth, his voice ragged with need. But you don’t give him a chance to catch his breath, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving with a feverish intensity that makes his head spin.

You break away just long enough to breathe, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

The way you say it, half-growled, half-breathed, sends a shiver down his spine, and he can’t help the sound that escapes him, somewhere between a moan and a groan. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to keep control, but you aren’t making it easy.

You press yourself even closer, your body flush against his as you kiss him again, harder this time, more demanding. Your tongue sweeps into his mouth, claiming him, and Rafe is more than happy to let you take the lead. He’s never felt anything like this before—this urgency, this hunger that makes him want to lose himself in you completely.

You tug on his hair, tilting his head back to give yourself better access, and Rafe nearly loses it right then and there. He can feel his self-control slipping, can feel the primal need to devour you taking over, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how badly he wants you, how desperately he needs to feel more of you.

When you pull back, your lips are swollen and glistening, your breathing just as ragged as his. You stare at him, your eyes dark with lust, and Rafe feels his heart hammering in his chest, each beat echoing with the desire pulsing through him.

“Been waiting for over an hour to do that,” you breathe.

Rafe’s hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine as he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. When he reaches the curve of your ass, he doesn’t stop. His fingers grip you there, kneading the soft flesh with a pressure that makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips instinctively pressing against his.

“Then do it again,” he murmurs, “Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

His hands are everywhere, sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts before moving back down to cup your ass again, pulling you even closer against him. You can feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your thigh, and it sends a wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You want him—more than you ever wanted anyone—and the way he’s looking at you tells you he feels the same.

Rafe lets out a low, almost guttural sound as you rock your hips against him, the pressure making him tighten his grip on you, holding you in place as he grounds himself against you. The sensation makes your breath hitch, a needy whimper escaping your lips that only spurs him on. 

“Fucking idiot,” you whisper again, your voice rough with desire as you nip at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth before soothing the bite with your tongue. 

His reaction is immediate. He groans, a sound so deep and full of need that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hands flex against you, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he’s trying not to loseg control completely.

 But you can feel it—the way he’s trembling, the way his breath is coming in harsh, uneven pants against your neck. He kisses you again, hard and desperate, his mouth moving against yours with a fervor that matches the wild pounding of your heart

But just when you think you can’t take it any longer, the sound of footsteps echoes outside the door, snapping you both back to reality. You pull back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, your mind spinning with the intensity of what had just happened. He’s just staring at you, his eyes glazed with desire, his lips swollen and red from your kisses. He looks as wrecked as you feel, and it takes everything in you not to drag him back down for more. 

But you know you shouldn’t. Not here. Not now.

Except there’s no fucking way Rafe is letting you go now. He doesn’t say a word. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and filled with a raw need that makes your breath catch. 

He doesn’t ask; doesn’t need to. He’s done waiting, done pretending he can hold back. 

Without another word, he pulls you toward the locker room, his grip firm and unyielding as he leads you through the maze of benches and lockers. Your heart races as he pushes open the door to the showers, the sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The room is empty, the air thick with steam, and the second you step inside, he’s pouncing on you. Clothes are gone in the blink of an eye.

He presses you up against the cold tile wall, his body flushes against yours as his lips find yours again, hands running over your wet skin. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone as he kisses, licks, and nips at your sensitive skin. You whimper, fingers threading through his hair as he drops to his knees in front of you, his lips trailing down your stomach. 

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of the hot water and his hot mouth on your skin driving you insane. "If you don’t-" your voice trembles with need as he spreads your thighs apart, “Fuck.” 

He looks up at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

His hands grip your hips firmly. Without another word, he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sudden, intense pleasure makes you cry out, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he licks and sucks, his tongue working you over with a skill that leaves you gasping for breath. It’s not fair. 

This man can’t possibly be real. The water splashes against your back, masking the sounds of your moans as he takes his time, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every swirl of his tongue. Your body trembles, your legs barely able to hold you up as he pushes you higher, his hands tightening on your hips as he holds you in place.

 "Oh my god," you moan, your voice breaking as you feel the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until you are crying out his name, your body shuddering as your orgasm crashes over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure rips through you.

Rafe keeps his mouth on you, drawing out your release until you are trembling, your legs shaking as you struggle to catch your breath. 

Truth is, he doesn’t want to stop. He can’t get enough now that he has finally gotten a taste. He stands back up, his hands running up your sides as he kisses you again, the taste of you still on his lips. You can feel him, hard and ready against your stomach, and it only drives you crazier. Of course, this man had to be fucking huge. 

Without breaking the kiss, he spins you around, pressing you against the wall as his hands grip your hips, pulling them back slightly. You brace yourself against the tile, your body arching as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. 

"Oh Rafe," you groan out his name, your voice low and needy and he growls softly in response, his breath hot against your ear as he slowly pushes inside you, filling you inch by inch until he is buried to the hilt.

Rafe nearly passes out from the sight. Watching himself disappear inside you has to be his favorite sight in the entire world. 

“So fucking pretty.” The feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely, is almost too much to bear, and you let out a long, low moan as he begins to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that drives you wild. The water cascades over your bodies as he thrusts into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you with a steady, unrelenting rhythm. 

Each thrust pushes you harder against the wall, the cool tile a pleasing contrast to the heat between you. You can barely think, barely breathe, lost in the sensation of Rafe moving inside you, his cock hitting all the right spots with every thrust. The sound of the water mixed with the wet slap of skin against skin, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to consume you.

 "God, you feel so fucking good," He groans, his voice rough with desire as he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

 "Faster," you gasp, your voice pleading as you push back against him, needing more, needing everything. He doesn’t hesitate. His pace quickening, his thrusts coming harder and faster as he drives you both toward the edge. The intensity of it is overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as he fucks you with a raw, desperate need that matches your own. Just when you think you couldn’t take any more, you heard footsteps outside the shower, followed by a voice calling out. 

"Cameron? You in here, man?" Rafe freezes, his body tense, his cock still buried deep inside you as he glances toward the door, his breath ragged. 

"Yeah, I’m here," he calls back, trying to keep his voice steady, though you could hear the strain in it. 

"We’re heading downtown to the bar. You coming?"

He looks down at you, all too pleased with himself, "Not tonight," he replies, his voice thick with lust. "Got something else to take care of." 

There’s a pause, then a chuckle from the other side of the door. "Alright, man. Have fun."

 The footsteps retreat, and the moment the door closes, he’s moving again, thrusting into you with a renewed urgency, the near-interruption only heightening the intensity of the moment. You moan loudly, your body quaking as he drives into you with a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending you spiraling closer and closer to another orgasm.

The combination of the heat, the steam, the feel of Rafe fucking you so hard is too much, the almost getting caught. You feel yourself losing it, your entire body tightening as you reach the edge once again.

 "Come for me," He growls, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you are sure there will be bruises tomorrow. His words push you over, and you cry out as your orgasm tears through you, your body convulsing around him as the pleasure crashes over you in waves.

Rafe follows right behind you, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he comes, his body shuddering as he fills you to the brim with a low, guttural groan. 

For a long moment, neither of you move, both of you panting, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all. The water continues to pour over you, washing away the evidence of your encounter as you slowly come down from the high. 

Finally, he pulls out, turning you around to face him as he cups your face in his hands, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender kiss that’s so different to the rough, desperate way he just fucked you.

 "You’re a fucking idiot," you whisper against his lips, a small, breathless laugh escaping you. 

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked down at you, drowning in affection. "Yeah, but I’m your fucking idiot."

He was fighting every fucking player on that ice ring if it meant having you again.

[bunnys-kisses]

Can I please get a tiramisu with a side of champagne with an innocent reader and Lando Norris, please. 🙏

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? read the menu! i love the idea of an innocent!reader, that's so cute. with a sugar daddy!lando!! i imagine him being so sweet but then being a little devil in the bedroom! i hope you love this <3

tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, fluff, dom!lando, mean!lando (in the bedroom), doggy style, dirty talk (a little degrading), innocent!reader, big dick!lando

lando didn't like the word "sugar daddy", because that implied he was paying you for sex. in all honesty, he felt nervous the first time he had sex with you.

you were a virgin, and he was taking your virginity. not that he really put much stock in the concept of virginity, but he didn't want to ruin your first time. he remembered that he fingered you for what felt like hours because he didn't want to bruise you.

when he did that he said to you, "i know this is stupid to say. but, i'm sorry for having a big cock." he made sure that you were comfortable before he (gently) fucked you. he remembered anxiously waiting while you basked in the after glow of orgasm to get a rating of his performance.

(you gave it 10/10!, even if you were a little sore the next morning)

since then you had grown into knowing what you like and don't like. you were curious as you never had a partner prior and through trial, error and the usage of safe words. you both figured out what you both liked.

lando didn't like slapping you, unless it was on your ass. you didn't like having you hair pulled. you both liked lando ran his mouth, even when his words got more depraved. lando liked when you called him daddy and you liked when he wrapped both arms around you when he took you doggy style. and you both liked after care, regardless of how intense the situation got. you both found comfort in holding one another as you settled down.

so was it really paying for sex if you were both getting off to it and had an open conversation? probably not!

-

you two had come back from a day of shopping. when most thought about a sugar baby spending their daddy's money. it mostly meant expensive items like diamonds and gold.

but not you. when you were picking up a bulk pack of cotton panties and winced at the price (under 8€), while lando sent you back into the store to get a second pack.

"it's fine, my love." he said as he gave you cheek a little pinch, "they're cute. they have flowers on them." and then scanned the rest of your items when you were away. you were a terrible sugar baby in that regard.

he one time found you cutting out a coupon from the cereal box and when he asked you what was going on. you said, "save us 2 euros." as you cut up the cardboard.

lando found it endearing. you clearly knew how much he was making a year, he could afford spending the extra 2 euros on cereal. but, you wanted to earn your keep.

you put the reusable bag in the bedroom before you got out of your clothes for the day. which meant padding around in a baggy t-shirt and sleeping shorts. you had socks on that were pulled up to your calves, they were a little bit big on you which made you think they were landos.

but they were very comfy as you went back to the couch. you sat down and lando threw an arm around you. he had taken one of the popsicles you bought on your last shopping trip and when you sat beside him, he pointed it towards you..

you leaned over and put your mouth around it, you made a sweet noise at the coolness on your tongue. it was very erotic. you looked up at him and gave the icy treat another lick.

sometimes lando forgot how innocent you were. you didn't know what you were doing when you pulled away and giggled.

"that was really good." you said, "can i have some more?" before he could respond, you happily ate some more of it.

when you pulled away, you could see lando swallow. you asked, "is everything okay, lando?"

he leaned in and pressed a kiss on your lips. the kiss was a big hungry as he felt his cock stir in his pants. when he pulled away, "finish it."

you took it from him, but when you did. he snaked his hand down the front of your shorts and he invaded your space. you yelped a little but moaned when you felt his fingers grazed across your pussy.

you quickly ate the sweet treat before lando took the stick and tossed it over his shoulder before be pulled him into a tight kiss. his fingers continued to play with your pussy.

"you're my good girl, right? my little slut to ruin?" he asked to test the waters if you wanted to go forward with it. he could feel his erection in his loose shorts.

you looked very hot pressed against the leather couch. you nodded, "i'm always a good girl for you, daddy." when lando gave you room, you quickly made your way to the bedroom.

lando thought you were painfully innocent sometimes. the idea that he was teaching you how to make yourself feel good made pride surge in him. it was so cute watching your little behind as you made your way to the bedroom.

he practically tackled you to the bed and rubbed his aching clothed erection against your ass as he palmed your breasts through your shirt, his nose was in your hair.

"daddy!" you yelped.

"you're so good for me. i've taught you how to feel good." he groaned as he continued to rub up against you, "i still have so much to teach you, poor thing can't take all of my cock down her pretty throat. maybe i'll get you a nice pink collar when i train you."

you whined, your panties felt soaked by his closeness to you. his hefty words in your ears as you wiggled under him. you soon felt his hands go to the waistband on your shorts and yank them down.

he continued to rub his cock up against your panty clad ass, he needed his baby girl. it wasn't fair that there were still so many layers on you.

he gave you a little room and watched you undress as he did the same. he stood there, beautiful as ever with his hard cock on full display. once you were naked, he got back onto the bed as rubbed his cock up against your cute little hole.

"you're so pretty like this. on your hands and knees, shiny hole for me." he groaned as he guided his cock into your pussy, bottoming out into you. he held onto your hips and started to thrust.

it was true, you were painfully cute. the perfect baby girl for him, even if he couldn't have sex with you. being around you and your sweetness was more than enough for him.

once he got a steady pace, he then wrapped his arms around you middle as he moved against you. he pressed his cheek up against your back as he rutted against you. the slick sounds of sex paired with your noises filled the room.

lando whispered praises into your skin as he moved. his cock felt so good inside of you, his breathing was heavy as he kept his pace fast. he felt the roll of pleasure in his body and he groaned heavily against you.

his cock throbbed inside of you. your cunt felt like a dream. it made him hot all over. you were painfully cute, even when you were being split by his impressive size.

"please, daddy. that feels so good." you whined as you arched your back. you could feel the pull of him in your stomach. your brain felt mushy, fueled by pleasure as he moved against you.

lando groaned against your skin, "you're the perfect girl for me. i lucked out, fuck. you're so good for me. clipping coupons and letting me fuck your sweet pussy. i lucked out." he kissed your heated flesh.

"please daddy."

"don't worry. i'm not goin' anywhere. i'm not leaving behind something so perfect." he kissed then at your cheek and rested his chin on your shoulder as he fucked you heavily.

his words made you hot all over, he watched you claw at the covers as he continued to thrust into you. he could feel the sweat down his neck as he continued to move.

the pleasure swirled through him as he moved. it all felt so good, it made him painfully hard. your combined noises made him shudder, he knew he wasn't going to last long. and neither were you.

you quickly came with your head in the sheets, your back arched further. you felt your heartbeat in your ears as he continued to fuck you. it was a erotic sight, the two of you fucking in the comfort of your own home.

"my precious girl."

"mmm, daddy." you whined, basking in the post orgasmic feeling.

he clenched onto you and finished inside of you with a hard thrust. he'd make sure you weren't in pain by tomorrow. he slowed down his pace to a still before he kissed the back of your head and whispered that he loved you.

you laid flat on the bed and found comfort in the soft covers as you panted heavily. lando then curled you up in his arms. he spooned you from behind as he kissed at your neck. you were so painfully cute, even when blissed out from the intensity of sex. he kissed at the shell of your ear gently.

"how was that? did i hurt you?"

you held onto his forearms as he held you and replied, "no, no. everything is perfect." you pressed your back further up against you and smiled softly, "you spoil me."

he chuckled and gave you another kiss on the neck, "always. i'll always spoil my baby." he squeezed you a little tighter. that was a promise to you.

[a-mint-bear]

Make Me Yours

Male Yandere x Reader

Part 2: "Your One and Only"

"I just... really wanna put a collar on a cute guy."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud, but your best friend since middle school had always been super open with this sort of stuff. You've always been the first one she texts when a date goes really well, or really terribly. And a lot of your coffee meetups, like this one, devolve into her oversharing all the juicy details of her relationships.

"Oh wow." She nudged you with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"

Unable to meet her eyes, you try to defend your stray thought. You remind her of some of the jerks you've dated, how their assertive and self-assured personalities had all quickly turned into a bit too aggressive and controlling. In certain situations, in controlled doses... that could lead to a nice time. But it's all fun and games until you try to explain away some of their worse moments to your coworkers and swiftly realize you're in "that kind" of relationship. You wonder if you give off some kind of energy that attracts creeps...

The thought of finding a guy who would not only let you take the reins but maybe even prefer you taking charge? It gave you a little thrill you're almost embarrassed to admit.

"Well, it's nothing to get all twisted up over." she shrugs, taking a sip of her iced latte. "You'll find the right guy that's into that kind of thing."

You smiled, she really was trying to encourage you with this, and it was oddly sweet of her.

"Oh, look!" she scooted closer to you, showing you her phone screen. "There's tons of collars you can get. You thinkin' like leather, classic S&M style? Or somethin' more cutesy?"

Maybe a little too encouraging, sometimes.

~ Somewhere very close by...~

His hands were shaking. Your words were playing on repeat in his head, drowning everything else out.

As if you weren't already perfect. He'd been so jealous of you meeting up with your friend, but if it made this conversation happen so he couldn't be too upset about it. He'd been trying to think of some way to make you his for so long... But being yours? Wearing something like that? Something that said he belonged only to you?

He was already yours. But a little proof never hurt.

. . .

It was late, and you decided to cut through the park to get home quicker. It was a pretty safe area, but you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. A few lights lit up the main path and you didn't see anyone else around.

But that didn't mean you were alone.

"Hey..."

You spin around to see... some guy. You'd never met him before, but he was... making A LOT of eye contact.

He was cute though. Soft, fluffy hair and piercings in his ears, his bright eyes poking out from beneath his bangs. And he had at least six inches on you, but not really an intimidating frame, a bit skinny too. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous, but you weren't sure if it was a "Oh, this is unexpected." kind of nervous or a "You're gonna end up in his basement." kind of nervous.

"You probably don't remember me but, uh...we had a few classes together last year and…"

He seemed really nervous himself, trailing off with some color in his cheeks. You tell him politely that you were sorry, but you didn't remember him.

"That's okay, uh..."

He was breathing kind of funny, his eyes still staring into yours. You asked him what he needed, hoping it would speed this along and you could leave.

He took a breath, and all you could do was stare, wondering if you should distract him and make a break for it.

"I... I've liked you. For a long time. It's like... like everything about you is just so... wonderful! Seeing you every day keeps me going! I was okay just watching but then... Sorry, sorry. I'm c-coming on too strong, I..."

He took a step towards you, moving like he was going to touch you, but you instinctively took a step back. He looked a little hurt.

"No, no please, don't be scared! I just... I thought it was the right time... I've been thinking about this for so long! I just wanted to..."

He dropped to his knees and the look in his eyes was almost...like he worshipped you. Like you were everything to him and nothing else mattered. It was a bit overwhelming...

"I heard you talking to your friend the other day. Not, uh, not in a weird way, I swear! I-it's just... It's all I can think about..."

He stared at you, a glimmer of something in his eyes. You could see a tremble in his hands, like he was debating reaching out for you again. But he was holding himself back.

Seeing him kneeling, looking up at you with a want that burned into you... It was doing something to you.

This was a weird, kinda scary, unbelievable situation. But it felt so...

Good.

You felt bold. Deciding to go for broke, you finally spoke again.

You asked him to tell you what he wanted.

You could see the tremble shoot through his frame, the smallest, quietest gasp when the your words finally registered.

"I want... I want you to look down at me, just like this! I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I'm a good boy. Your good boy! I want to cuddle up to you and hear your heartbeat while you hold me, I... I want you to use me... I want you to yank my collar if I get too excited and tell me to behave."

He laughed softly at the thought, this guy was completely smitten.

"I want to be yours, if that'll make you happy..."

He reached into his back pocket, you heard the gentle clink of the collar before you saw it. It was like some kind of odd proposal, except he was down on both knees.

He held it up to you, his eyes clouded with a want that made your face feel hot.

So painfully slowly, you reached out for him, your fingers flinching back for a split second, rational thought desperately trying to break through. But despite all the reasons you could think this was completely crazy, you still wanted this.

You touched his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to lean into your hand with a contented, dreamy sigh.

The power he was giving you was... new, exciting, maybe a bit intoxicating. And he was offering it all so willingly, you wondered if this was all a dream.

"I wanna be your good boy..." His voice was soft but pleading, almost desperate. "Please..."

His smile was making your brain feel fuzzy, seeing him looking up at you like you were his whole world.

"Make me yours."

[avocado-writing]

hi!! I read your fics and I love your writing style! I was wondering if you could do something with a human reader, maybe she works in a bookshop or she’s a teacher? And it’s all cute because he finds her genuine??? Maybe some angst because she finds herself in danger? Idk sorry I’m rambling I just wanted something with a human reader 🧍🏻‍♀️💐

the place where the pages meet

logan howlett x bookseller!reader

4k words, rated explicit.

cocky!logan; awkward!reader; excessive book references; threat of physical violence (quickly averted); anti-mutant language & sentiments; smut (oral - reader receiving, penetrative sex). minors dni. thank you @saradika-graphics for dividers!

The sky is heavy with the promise of rain, and you suck your breath in through your teeth. It’s fifty-fifty on days like these: either people will seek shelter in your little store, or they’ll scurry away with the fear any purchases they make will get soaked and ruined.

God damn it, what kind of fool opens an independent book shop in New York?

You’re the kind of fool, apparently. Still, it’s your home, both figuratively between all the old paperbacks and literally with your tiny apartment on the top floor. Barely more than a studio, but enough for you. A piece for yourself carved out of this world. 

Outside it starts to pour. You sigh. Well, at least you know you’ll get one visitor today.

Charles, your dear friend and long-time financial supporter of your store, had called earlier to let you know that the usual face wouldn’t be coming to grab his order. It’s a shame, you like Ororo, enjoy sitting and sharing a pot of oolong with her on quiet days. Also she could have chased away this terrible weather for you. Ah well. 

“Who can I expect?” you’d asked. 

Charles had laughed, a warm and friendly sound. 

“Ahh, you’ll know Logan when you see him.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Charles. Between orders of rare books for his personal collections and en-masse copies of classics for the kids, he pretty much keeps this place running for you. Bless that man, honestly, because you’re not sure where you’d be without him. 

The sound of someone pulling up outside has you putting down your book and turning towards the shop window. 

A pickup truck parks up by the kerbside and you watch the man in the driver’s seat emerge into the rain. He cuts a fine figure, tall and strong, but you don’t get a good look at him until he walks through the front door. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome. 

Leather jacket now pocked with raindrops, very obvious white vest beneath it showing off his broad chest. He shakes like a dog to get the moisture out of his hair as he stamps his boots on the doormat, pausing only briefly to scrutinise its no admittance expect on party business slogan. 

“Logan?” you ask. He looks up and when his eyes first meet yours? Oh, a fire is sent down your spine. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, looking around to take in the place. You can’t tell if he’s impressed or not. He has a remarkably neutral face, careful, the sort of man who doesn’t want to give anything away about himself. 

“You’re… here for Charles’ books?”

He’s sauntering over to the counter now. Cocks an eyebrow. It goes right through you. Fuck. 

“That’d be me.” There’s a beat. “Why, you think someone’d try and steal them?”

“People can steal books!” you say, defensively. 

“People named Logan who you’re clearly expecting?”

You bristle, because he’s got you. Something flickers over his face for a second: a smile. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome and he’s an asshole.

Huffing, you fish the box out from under the desk and groan with effort as you lift it up. Logan takes it from your grasp as if it weighs nothing at all. Your fingers touch as you do. You try to ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says, easily.

“Mm. Mind the rain. It’d be a shame if you slipped.”

A proper smile crosses his face then, but he turns away too quickly for you to let it sink in. The bell on the door chimes as he heads back out into the rain.

Well, you hope you never see him again.

By the same time next week, you’re really hoping you see him again.

You’ve sort of not been able to get him out of your mind. He was kinda prickly, sure, but a welcome break from the mundanity of your life, and pretty good looking to boot. It’s probably just a pipe dream. You’re sure it’ll be Ororo again, and you can go back to the easy pattern of seeing your dear friend. That’s okay. You’re fine with it. Who needs a handsome man? You have your books, you have your store, you’re happy.

Yeah. You’re happy. 

Imagine your surprise, then, when you hear a motorbike outside your shop.

You must be blessed with street parking, because Logan pulls up right outside again. Same jacket, same well-worn jeans. He catches your eye through the window and you’re sure they glisten. You pretend to be engrossed in your book but it’s not fooling anyone, the words swim into soup on the page as you see him approach.

The door goes; he approaches the counter. Closer this time, you can smell him. Tobacco and leather. Fuck it’s good.

“You should wear a helmet,” you say, trying to be flippant. Logan lets out a single, solitary note of a chuckle from deep in his chest.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and try to hide it by looking for Charles’ order again. It’s a single book, a first edition you had to go through the backwater book depositories to hunt down. You’re the best at what you do, though, so it was no real problem. It’s why he always comes to you.

“Here you go. Let him know I’ll try and find the sequel if he’s interested, too.”

“Sure.”

Once again your fingers touch as you hand the book to Logan. No. No, this is too quick! You want to keep him here for a little while longer. He looks so out of place between the wonky shelves and hanging plants, it’s just perfect.

Your mouth tries to say two things at once: can you tell Charles I’ll have his other order ready same time next week, and, do you like to read often? 

Instead what comes out is, “can you read?”

You must wince when you ask the question, because Logan stands there transfixed. Baffled, just for a second.

“Can I… read?” he repeats slowly. 

I’ve failed you, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t stop your mouth in time, says your brain.

“I didn’t mean… of course you read… I just… I didn’t want to assume… maybe you didn’t like books… erm…”

“Yeah, I read,” he says softly, as if you are an old dog and he is putting you out of your misery. You fucking wish he would. Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve never spoken to another person before.

You can’t find a way to recover this. Your cheeks are on fire. You’re going to explode and burn down your store. Oh authors, you are so sorry for using all these works as kindling.

You expect Logan to turn on his heel and walk out but he… doesn’t. Instead he takes a step back so that he can look at the shelf nearest to the desk. Runs his fingers across the spines before picking one. It’s slim, no more than the width of his finger; he puts it on the counter and fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

In the Miso Soup by Ryū Murakami. You ring him up, punching the price into your old cash register, give him his change. His palm is soft as you drop coins into it. 

“See you next week,” he says, stashing both his book and Charles’ inside his jacket. 

“Okay,” you say, amazed you’re able to get any words out, and watch him walk away again.

He does see you next week.

The sun’s out, so he’s sans jacket, and oh fuck you can see how his arms are like treetrunks. The way this man has you reacting is unhealthy. You try and focus on the hardback in your hands but all you can picture is those veins which are bulging on his biceps, begging you to come and get to know them better.

“You’re always reading huh?” 

His voice makes you jump a little, you’re not expecting him to be so close. You look up. He slides his sunglasses up into his hair. Fuck it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Would you trust a bookstore owner who didn’t read?” you ask, bristling with the need to defend this little shop and your place in it. He holds his hands up in the universal sign of peace.

“Not an insult, just an observation.”

You sink back from attack mode, walls still a little high, but definitely coming down.

“How did you get on with the Murakami last week?”

Logan takes a moment to consider this, trying to piece his answer together in a way which won’t offend you.

“I liked it until the last chapter.”

You sit up in your chair. 

“Yes! A lot of people say that. It feels like it ends sort of abruptly, but if you just appreciate it for what it is, it’s a good book.”

He smiles a little as you speak. You fucking love talking about books, to a degree some people find absurd. You don’t want to babble though, so you force yourself to end your observations there.

Logan nods at the book in your hands.

“What are you reading now?”

You lift up your book so he can see the cover: A. S. Byatt’s The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye. 

“It’s very good! Byatt has such a wonderful way of writing. I love fairy tales and there’s such a wonderful voice in this one. They made the titular story into a movie a couple of years back, it’s quite good actually, it has Tilda Swinton in it.” You’re floundering. Don’t stray too far from the normal lines of conversation. Mouth, for fuck’s sake stay on course, begs your brain. It doesn’t. Instead you ask, “do you… like Tilda Swinton?”

Logan raises an eyebrow and you know this is a man who has never once had to consider the question of whether or not he likes the actress Tilda Swinton. 

Mouth still talking. MOUTH STILL TALKING, your brain screams. It’s true. It is. You were too busy being horrified to notice.

What your mouth says while being unchaperoned is, “There’s a little single-screen theatre nearby doing a showing of it this week, actually, do you wanna come with?”

DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT. DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT?!

Logan doesn’t seem to know what to make of that. He seems just as shocked that you’ve asked as you are. But then, just as you want to cast yourself into the street so that a passing garbage truck might take pity on you and sweep you away, he smiles. It’s slow, but it makes him look so much hotter.

“Sure, why not.”

Oh mouth you genius. I shall never doubt you again.

“Oh, okay, great! Uhh, are you free Friday?”

“I can be. What time’s the screening?”

“Seven. Meet me here at six-thirty?”

“It’s a date.”

Fuck, it is a date, isn’t it. It’s a date!

Logan stands there, awaiting something. You’re confused for a beat, then go up on your tiptoes, aiming your mouth towards his.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture… Charles’ book, honey.”

Hmmm, okay. Still time for the earth to just swallow you whole then, actually.

You sort of don’t expect him to turn up. You wouldn’t go on a date with you, all awkward edges and uncomfortable words. And he’s… the coolest fucking guy you’ve ever seen. 

Of course he won’t turn up. Of course he won’t. 

He turns up. 

He’s waiting for you outside the store, leaning against a lamppost, dressed in flannel and smelling like subtle cologne. You can’t help lighting up when you see him and hope you’re dressed suitably - your nicest pair of dungarees and a tight-fitting jumper. 

“Hey! You made it,” you say. 

“‘Course I did,” he replies with a little smile. Oh, you’re giddy. 

“C’mon, it’s not a long walk. It’s a nice night too.”

He lets you chatter as the two of you make the brief journey, content to have you talk his ear off about business and books. He’s happy to answer any questions you ask him about himself: what he does for a living, how he knows Charles, if he’s got anything else on his to-read list. The two of you skirt around the most obvious thing: if he lives at the mansion, he’s definitely a mutant. You can’t quite get the courage to ask him about it. Seems easier to just let it lie, so you do. It’s not that important anyway, you think, you like Logan, with or without any extra bits. 

When you arrive at the little hole-in-the-wall cinema, he gets the tickets and the popcorn and the drinks. You do your best not to feel absolutely pathetic by his side. Surely everyone here knows you’re punching above your weight with this absolute grade A specimen of a man? You’re so busy looking around the foyer to make sure nobody is staring that you almost don’t realise when he takes your hand in his.

“You with me, honey?” he asks, soft, low. You swallow thickly and nod because for once, you can’t find the words.

It’s not a very full screening, which is just fine, because you’re happy to be alone with Logan in the dark. You share a bucket of popcorn and a secret little thrill runs up your spine every time your fingers brush together. When that’s finished, he puts his arm around the back of your chair and you snuggle up against his side, cursing the damn plastic cupholder in the middle forcing you to keep a distance. 

One hundred and eight minutes. They’re not enough. You want to be here forever. But eventually the credits roll, the lights come up, and Logan has to pull his arm back; you hope the reluctance in the withdrawal of the gesture isn’t just your imagination. 

“What did you think?” you ask, standing up and stretching. Logan follows suit, mulling over the question. 

“It was… cute,” he decides. “I can see why you like it.” 

You beam. 

“I can lend you the book if you want. It goes into way more detail about the main character’s life at the start, it’s very stream-of-consciousness but I really enjoy it? It’s different to the other stories before it but definitely worth reading. I think that…”

You’re outside now, under the streetlights, fingers tangled easily with his, and when he stills you’re pulled to a stop too. 

“Hmm?”

He drops his grip on your hand so that he can put one under your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you. Your heart beats violently. He can definitely feel it. He knows. You don’t care. Fuck, he’s so near. 

“You talk a lot, huh?” he asks. It’s not unkind, the smile on his face is one of fondness, and all of your skeleton turns to jelly as you fucking melt under the affection in his gaze. 

“Please shut me up,” your beg comes out as a whisper, and he does. 

His lips are rough against yours, guiding, but sweet. The hair on his face tickles your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to kiss him with more enthusiasm. This is not a public-appropriate display of affection, and someone honks their car horn at you both, but it just serves to make you laugh against his mouth and keep going. His hands slide onto your hips and hold you tight against him. Possessive. Wanting. Covetous. 

“You know,” he says when he pulls back for air, still running his lips along the line of your jaw to the hinge beneath your ear, “when Charles told me I should go and get those books, he said I’d like the person who runs the store. Didn’t expect you to be such a gorgeous little thing, though.”

You, gorgeous! Logan thinks you’re gorgeous! You could do a fucking cartwheel in celebration. You don’t though, you’d probably give yourself a concussion. 

His hand goes to his pocket and his brow furrows and, for a second, you panic. Has he started regretting kissing you already? Another quick kiss calms that down though, settling the simmer of worry in your stomach. 

“I think I left my wallet in the theatre. Hold on, I’ll grab it, then I’ll walk you home?”

“Only if you come in with me,” you breathe, and once again your mouth has taken the reins on that one. Logan huffs a laugh, a little incredulous, but mostly pleased at your gumption. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

He leaves you standing there, feeling all tingly. This is happening. It’s fucking happening! Sometimes the stars align for a book nerd and a handsome guy wants to come up to their studio apartment. You thank Jesus, Buddha, Arthur C. Clarke - whoever is listening, they fucking deserve it. 

“You gonna fuck that mutant?”

The voice sends a chill down your throat. 

The trio of guys standing behind you do not look friendly. The biggest one, the one standing in the middle, sneers at your panic, crossing thick arms over a broad chest.

“Well? I asked you a question.”

You screw your courage to the sticking place, puffing up a little. 

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you spit back, hoping that vitriol will deter them. It does not. Instead, they close in, hyenas around a cadaver. 

“Never had a human dick you down good enough, huh? Need a little help? C’mon baby, we’ll show you.”

He reaches out to grab your arm. You let out a noise of panic. 

At the same time, Logan’s fist collides with his face. 

The guy is sent stumbling back, spitting out a globule of blood. His friends step away with panic in their eyes. Logan moves in front of you, his bulk your shield, three metal claws extending from between his knuckles. 

Yeah. Mutant, huh?

“I think you were just leaving, pal,” says Logan in a voice which doesn’t bear messing with. The man bares his reddened teeth. 

“The fuck do you think you are, mutant scum--?!”

He lunges for Logan and the breath is sucked from your lungs when you see he’s pulling out a fucking knife, but another punch sends him flat on his ass. The blade clatters across the street and into the gutter. His friends grab either one of his arms and half stand him up, half drag him away.

“Shit, it’s not worth it—!” is their conclusion as they disappear into the night, shouting back expletives, blood trailing from their leader. Logan shakes out his fist, flexes his fingers; claws retract. He turns to you, slowly. 

“You okay?” he asks, hurriedly checking you over. You nod. 

“Y…yeah. Shaken.” you confess. 

“C'mon. Let’s get you home,” he sighs, and from the cadence of his voice you can tell he’s worried the night has been ruined. You place your hand on his bicep. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you still… will you still come up?”

He softens. 

“If it’ll make you feel safer, sweetheart.”

It does. 

And that’s how you find him sitting on your well-loved couch in between your needlepoint pillows, looking around your tiny home as you make a pot of coffee to share. 

“Jesus, you’ve got more books in here than in the store,” he mutters. 

“Well, some of them I couldn’t part with. I like them too much. And, as you pointed out, I am always reading.”

You look around at the shelves stuffed into your flat, the dozens of them holding hundreds of novels, plays, poems. You love them all dearly. They all hold a special piece of your heart, you can remember where you were when you read most of them. (Downstairs while manning the desk is often the answer). 

“Oh, even this?”

You can hear the smile in Logan’s voice. He’s holding up a copy of Fifty Shades. You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Christ, I read that as a professional courtesy to the art of bookselling. Got it for fifty cents at a thrift store. It’s crap. If you want some good erotica I can recommend…”

The sentence lingers unfinished. Logan raises his eyebrows. 

“You can recommend what, huh?”

The coffee is ready. You can smell its rich scent enveloping your little apartment. An idea forms. Creates a heavy anticipation on your tongue. Your brain screams at you. 

Locked. Loaded. Fire, mouth, fire!

“… then I’d recommend you take me to bed,” you say.

Logan stares, eyes wide. You’ve had an immediate effect on him. His pupils dilate. 

“I… honey, after earlier, I’m not sure if you should…”

You cross the room and sit on his lap, an easy feat when his legs are so thick and inviting. His sentence stops as you press your mouth to the pulse in his neck. Kiss. 

“I’m a consenting adult,” a kiss on his cheek, “who’s invited you into their home,” a kiss on his brow, “and is asking you to take them across their painfully tiny apartment and fuck them. If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but Logan? I’ve been game ever since you first walked in from the rain.”

He looks up at you to double check that you’re telling the truth, then kisses you with such ferocity that you squeak. 

You do not make it to the bed. 

He undresses you there on the sofa in the middle of your bookshelves, between Brontë and Austen, beside Carter and Rushdie. Your clothes end up in a messy little pile on the coffee table. It gets kicked and the pile of literary magazines slide to the floor as Logan moves to take off his shoes, letting you drag his jeans down and off of him, cupping his cock in his boxers.

Fuck. Thick, heavy, large, you want all of it. All of him. 

He leans you back against your kitschy little pillows with book quotes on them and pulls your dungarees off, an act both ridiculous and endearing. He catches your knee in his hand and begins to kiss up your thigh towards your underwear.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he presses a kiss to your sex over the fabric. He grins up at you from between your legs. 

“That was the plan.”

He fucks you with his mouth like a man starved, luxuriating in the little sounds you make for him, pressing fingers inside you without any effort at all. You cum all over his knuckles embarrassingly quickly. He looks sorta smug. 

“Baby, when was the last time someone took care of you…?” he asks, licking a stripe along your sex to taste what he’s done. You huff. 

“Too long. You gonna fix that?”

It’s a challenge and he takes it as one. You strip off his shirt, making sure to get a good feel of his muscles as you go, kissing his pectorals and abs just because you can. He slides inside you with one thrust, one of your legs in a crook at his hip; the other with its ankle resting on his shoulder. He starts moving and the couch shakes but all you can do is cling on for dear life to the crocheted blanket. 

“Holy shit… so fuckin’ tight… aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing…” he hisses. You reach up enough to tangle your fingers in his hair and drag him down for a kiss, sloppy and charged with heat. His hand moves in between your legs and you cum for the second time that night, hissing with satisfaction as he spills inside you. 

You collapse onto the sofa together, your heavy breaths harmonising. When he pulls back to kiss you this time it’s softer. With intention. With reference. 

“Uh, you know, they’re showing To Kill a Mockingbird next week. Maybe dinner beforehand, if you’re interested?”

He laughs affectionately and you can feel the rumble in his chest.

“Sounds good. You’ll have to lend me the book first.”

Fuck yeah. You’re never doubting your mouth again. 

Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk@starfleetteddybear

[kykyonthemoon]

Red Stains

You've got a new lipstick and can't wait to test out the color,

on his face.

✧ — Character x F!Reader ✧ — 16+, MDNI, suggestive themes, established relationships, soft fluff, touchy, marking ✧ — Requested by Wytchie Pie.

✿ Masterlist

✿ Request a fic

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

While Caleb was in the living room playing his video game, you walked in with a new lipstick. It was hard not to tease him more when you saw how committed he was to the game. Reaching him from behind the couch, you put your arms around his neck and raised his chin to meet your gaze. You leaned down to give his left cheek a kiss. Then you hurried out of the room.

Though a little taken aback, Caleb simply grinned to himself and carried on playing the game. Not even your scarlet lipstick on his cheek did he notice.

After a while, you returned to the room. You interrupted his match again like the first time and gave him another kiss, this time on the right cheek. With a scowl, Caleb warned you: "Don't be naughty."

But you did not listen. You went into the bathroom again to apply another layer of lipstick. When would he find out that his face was covered with your lip stains? He had such a cute and goofy expression. Should you not tell him, would people laugh at him when he got out at last?

Being laughed at was his punishment. For playing games all afternoon and paying no attention to you. You went back to the living room, sneakily behind the sofa again and encircled him with your arms...

All of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist, bending you over. He leaned his head back to touch your lips and locked it with a kiss. Surprised, you leaped back and attempted to flee. After hurling the console onto the chair, Caleb got up, circled the couch, and seized you.

His hands clamped around your waist, making you turn to face him. “I told you not to be naughty.”

As you looked at the screen with the large word DEFEATED displayed, you laughed. In response, you said:

“You lost because you're terrible at this game. It's not my fault.”

“You're still in the mood to tease me?”

Caleb made an angry face, but all you saw was a cute guy with two lipstick marks on his face. He still held you tightly in his arms to prevent you from escaping. He gently lifted you up so that your bare feet rested on his.

“You tried the lipstick marking thing on my face again, didn't you”

"How do you know that?"

“I can smell it.” Caleb smirked. He could position you against the couch with style in only one spin.

“Caleb?” You were a bit surprised. He still refused to let you go but pressed closer to you.

“Make amends.” Caleb said, his voice a bit coy, making you blush. Normally, it's you who wheedle.

"What kind of compensation do you want?..." You hesitated, but you had good reason to be concerned. Because as soon as you finished speaking, you felt a bit regretful when Caleb suddenly attacked you with a passionate kiss.

When he finally let go to let you catch your breath, he rubbed your head, causing your hair to go untidy. Your fingers still lingered on his shoulder, and your red lips seemed to be inviting for another kiss. Caleb could not let you win that quickly. He stepped back and said:

“Everything always goes your way. That's how it's been all along since childhood. I can't keep spoiling you forever.”

Feeling a little let down, you gazed into his eyes. Caleb's face had brilliant lipstick traces that your fingertips touched.

"Are you sure?" You inquired, and then you hurried to put both of your arms around his neck without waiting for him to respond. You raised your torso and enveloped his waist with your legs. All he could do was hold you, and then you would attack him with powerful, determined kisses.

Caleb laughed while you pulled your lips away long enough to take a breath. He was defeated, again and again. After all, he would always let you win.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You finished your makeup that day with a little red lipstick on the lips. Satisfied with the new lipstick and cosmetics Tara had just recommended, you glanced in the mirror. But when you turned to Xavier,you saw him dozing off on the edge of the bed. He was still seated, but his back was resting on a stack of pillows and his hand was gripping the plush bunny named Bunbun.

You intended to wake him up, but as you approached, his innocent face and soft snoring made you want to give him a little playful nudge. You placed yourself on the edge of the bed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. Then you pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.

Leaning back slightly, you waited for Xavier to stir, but he remained deep sleeping. You impatiently placed a kiss on his other cheek. Then one on the forehead, another on the chin... Just like that, soon light and dark lipstick smears were all over his face.

You gulped back a laugh. He was certain to become uneasy upon awakening. Unexpectedly, you were taken by surprise as well. His eyes were barely open when his fingers snatched your wrists and pushed you against the bed.

"Xavier?" You let out a startled exclamation. You felt his body pressing on yours, immobilizing you. He could easily lock both of your wrists together, forcing them above your head and holding them there with only one hand.

You raised your gaze to Xavier's face which was covered by lipsticks. Gradually, he opened his eyes. He was still drowsy, but he was fully aware of the damage you had just caused to his heavenly face.

“I can't believe you sneaked up on me while I was sleeping.”

You giggled, looking apologetic: “I'm sorry. Because… you look so cute when you sleep!”

Xavier pretended not to hear your apology. He tightened his hold on the area that was holding your wrist, and you let out a quiet cry. His other hand freely explored your face and his fingers paused at your lips.

"Your lip color has changed."

Xavier was always sensitive to even the tiniest changes in you. It gave you the impression that he was concerned about you and valued you. You gave a nod.

“And you brought my face out to test your new lipstick?” Xavier questioned. You became aware that his body was gradually dropping and encroaching onto yours.

"I've already... apologized," Your cheeks heated with his breath.

"That doesn't count." Xavier gave a sulky reply. "There will be an equal cost for you to pay."

"H-Huh?

Xavier leaned down and pressed his cool lips to your cheek, leaving a scorching, tingling trail.

“One here.” Xavier said, then he proceeded to kiss the other cheek. “Another here.”

“X-Xavier…” You made an effort to resist and came very close to escaping him. But your wrists were held even tighter. The other hand Xavier was holding around your neck tensed as well. 

"Be good!" Although his voice was still very gentle, you caught his impatience, almost like a command.

And you lied still, submitting to his authority as he inked your face with his own lip marks. On the forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. He planted a kiss on your face in precisely the same spot and sequence as you had just given him. You started to get a sense that Xavier wasn't actually asleep, and you were naive to fall right into the trap that was set up by his innocent expression.

At the same time, you relished the sensation of being beneath Xavier, his body heat enveloping you, and the sound of his breathing in your ear blended with every kiss.

The last kiss just ended. As you struggled to catch your breath, you said:

“A-Are you done? Can you…Can you let me go now?…”

The truth was, you never want him to let go. Xavier simply glanced at you and felt your emotions. He lifted your chin again so you could look into his eyes, while he gently parted your lips with this thumb.

“Did I say I would let you go?”

Your eyes seemed to be blurred by the heat between you both. You arched your head back a little, longing for his lips to meet yours once more. Xavier smiled triumphantly as his finger lightly slid across your lips, smearing a small amount of your lipstick out.

“You should have known there is a price for waking me up like that.”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

That evening, while you were getting ready for the date, Rafayel showed up. He took a seat next to you and began fiddling with the makeup items on the table. His long fingers stroke the blush in the box, he waved it in the air, enjoying the color in his hand.

"Look at this. My hands are now the same color as your cheeks.”

You turned to look at Rafayel. He gave you a mischievous smile. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin.

“Let me help you,” said Rafayel. You obediently sat still so he could apply the pink blush that was already on his hand to your cheeks, although you were certain that they were already pink even before applying makeup.

"Very lovely. The peach hue draws attention to your smile.” Rafayel exclaimed. "Even though you don't need makeup to look beautiful."

You smiled heartily. His lips were always so sweet, giving you more confidence. I had never seen yourself more beautiful than when you were next to him. Even without saying it out loud, the way he looked at you always made you feel like you were the most exquisite painting his eyes had ever laid upon.

“I'm almost done. All that's left is lipstick." You said while taking out a brand new lipstick from your purse. “Tara said this color would go very well with me.”

Rafayel took the lipstick from your hand and looked at its color through the transparent glass cover. Then he gave it back to you. “Go ahead and try it on.” He spoke excitedly, as if he was the one using this lipstick.

You twisted the cap open, applied a layer and pressed your lips together to spread the lipstick evenly. “Mmmh.” Before you could look closely, Rafayel anxiously put his palm on your cheek and drew you in.

“Let me see it...” Rafayel's fingertips playfully caressed across your face and ears while you held your breath. "Red. It truly does fit you perfectly.”

His thumb traced a line down the border of your lower lip, giving you a ticklish feeling. You could not focus because of how near his face was. You gently closed your eyes, then when he was too preoccupied staring at your lips, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You?!” Rafayel was startled. He withdrew his hand and touched the place you just kissed. A scarlet set of lips like a blossoming flower revealed itself on Rafayel's porcelain face.

"If you don't let me see my lipstick color in the mirror, I'll borrow your face to try it on." You laughed in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Rafayel was left with another lip mark on his cheek, just below the previous one. His eyebrows frowned slightly. His cheeks and ears were scarlet, he couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore.

“That is excessive.” Rafayel mumbled, yet behind that salty expression was a wry smirk. You applied another layer of lipstick on your lips to replace the first layer that had mostly faded. You commented:

“This lipstick tastes somewhat as sweet as candy.”

Hearing that, Rafayel immediately raised his face. He held your chin tightly in his hand and brought it very close.

“Really? I'd like to give it a shot as well.”

After saying so, he put his lips to yours. Before you could protest, you felt a slight pain in your bottom lip as you opened your eyes wide.

“R-Rafayel!” You gasped when he left your lips. Your lipstick was lightly on his lips as he licked it lightly.

“It does taste like candy!”

His mysterious expression confused you. You covered your mouth with both hands and reprimanded: "You just bit me!"

With a sly smile, Rafayel tipped his head and said, "I was only curious to taste your lipstick. Then, I realized something…”

Suddenly he came close to you again. His hand pulled yours down to reveal your red face and slightly swollen, color-smeared lips. He spoke again:

“You taste sweeter than any candy!”

Unsure of how to react, you observed Rafayel get back up. You followed him because you assumed he was going to head to the restaurant that you two had reserved. Just as you were getting up from the chair, Rafayel abruptly pulled you back and seated you entirely on the dressing table.

"Where are you going?" He asked while burying his face in your shoulder and hair.

“To our date?… We're already late…”

Rafayel's dissatisfaction was evident from his facial expression. He glanced back at you, his finger tracing across your lips as if he was painting a picture himself.

"The plan has changed."

He kissed you once more, and this time, the long kisses were broken up by little, painless bites that made you weak in the knees and found it hard to breathe. You pushed Rafayel back a little so he could slow down while leaning your back against the frigid mirror. However, the more you did so, the more he devoured your red lips.

“We can save that restaurant for another time… For now, let's stay here, okay?”

He said between rapid breaths. You nodded slightly. How could you refuse, when all your luscious lips wanted was him?

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

During Zayne's lunch break, you stayed in his office to make sure he ate enough and on time. It could also be said otherwise; it's him who made sure you're full and rest well before returning to the headquarters.

After lunch, Zayne sat reading a book on the sofa. You thought you would get out your new lipstick and give it a little play since you had nothing better to do. You barely learned the fundamental techniques and were too busy fighting Wanderers to wear makeup frequently. But the other day, Tara had just given you a new lipstick and said that this color would look good on you.

You put on a light layer. Since Zayne's workplace lacked a mirror, you turned to him and inquired, "How do I look?"

Zayne merely gave you a quick glance before turning back to the book.

"Alright."

"Alright?!" You said it again. By that, what did he mean? It was "okay" rather than beautiful? Yet, he couldn't even look at you for more than a second. You were a little hurt. You twisted the lipstick cap again and applied another layer.

"What about this?" You inquired with him once more. However, Zayne quickly responded with a "Mmhhh" to end the conversation. You turned your gaze from him to the book he was holding. It took away all of his attention, which he should be giving to you.

Refusing to give in to such an inanimate object, you turned completely to Zayne, pulled him back and pressed your lips to his cheek.

You released your grip, revealing your trophy — a vivid red lipstick mark — on his icy face. However, he continued to glare at you without saying anything. His hand turned the book to a new page and as if nothing had happened, he ignored you once again.

“You…” You let out a sigh. You knew he had his own concerns, but were angry at the thought that you were not important, not attractive enough for him, unlike a medical book. You gave it another go, kissing him very close to the lips this time.

Zayne breathed heavily. Although the expression on his face remained unchanged, you caught his hands holding the book trembling slightly.

“There is a medical appointment that I must attend in an hour. This kind of abuse on my face is unacceptable."

You felt like you had won when he closed the book and put it back on the table.

“Okay, let me tidy it up for you.” Grinning, you got up to grab the tissue box.  But you were drawn back by a strong force that very moment. Suddenly you found yourself sitting completely on Zayne's lap. His sinewy arms encircled your waist securely.

“If you want to leave marks on me…” You heard Zayne whispering so softly from behind. “You need to be a little more considerate.”

You sat still and let Zayne turn you around, facing him. Your heart was beating very fast. At this rate, before another patient came to see him, he would have to treat you first. You tried to stay calm in front of him and questioned:

“More considerate? Do you recommend any other spot then?” Your hand briefly touched Zayne's cheek before descending gently. You stared intently, lifting his chin. As you cuddled on his lap, little against the toned shoulders he covered beneath his shirt, Zayne shifted both of your legs so they were more comfortably positioned on the sofa.

Your fingertips paused at his neck, verging on his Adam's apple. You caught it moving slightly. “Or this spot?”

Zayne was clearly making every effort to maintain the residual calm on his face. His eyes were staring at you intensely from behind his glasses, as though he was granting you permission to do that.

And you leaned up to place a kiss there.

You heard a cough come from Zayne. He looked at you, extremely miserable. But you put your hand on the lipstick mark on his neck as if admiring another of your trophies. It did not stop there. You still wanted more, wanted to know what he would do if you went a little further...

Your index finger slid from his neck to his chest and stopped just above his heart.

“Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing.”

Your laughter was as crisp as sunshine in the room, increasing the temperature. Zayne took your hand, neatly holding it in his scarred one. He spoke, but you caught his trembling even though he was very discreet:

“Can you... cure me then?”

Your finger gently tapped on his chest. "Of course." You would always like it when Zayne let me be in charge, asking you to take care of him little by little. His hand loosened slightly, allowing you to freely find the buttons of his shirt and undo them.

Then, you put another crimson mark on his bare chest.

[hannieween]

moonlight | lights out series

Joshua had not only fallen in love with you, but with the life he had by your side. He just had to learn to find the balance between the life he was so in love with and the life he had worked so hard to achieve.

✮pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader x joshua hong ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut [18+] ✮ aus: theatre director jeonghan, rockstar joshua, polyamorous relationship ✮ word count: 25.3k

› 🎧: limbo – dpr ian | horizon – i.m | hold me – hojean | cheese and wine – dpr live | different – woodz | love scene – baekhyun | take my hand – zerobaseone ‹ note: this song is so cute and perfect | ditto – new jeans | bad sad and mad – bibi → season one — season two — read more › smut warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: sleep paralysis, smut with plot, dom jeonghan, switch joshua, switch reader, alcohol consumption, slight mlm themes, slight dubcon: reader takes care of drunk hannie. reader is on birth control, smoking, corruption kink, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, blowjob, handjob, deepthroating, dacryphilia, fingering, creampies, tongue fucking, pussy drunk hannie, squirting, hair pulling, doggy style, rough sex, consensual recordings of sexual intercourse, a bit of cockwarming, vanilla sex, lazy love-making, nipple teasing, couch sex, dirty talk. brat taming: pussy slaps, spanking, edging, praise/degradation kink, light impact play, 1 slap on the cheek. pet names: bunny, beautiful, baby, princess, bad girl, filthy girl (hers), handsome, big baby, (jeonghan) babe, baby, handsome (joshua) ✮ author's note: this is incredibly self indulgent. also, these chapters are getting longer... having to write about two boyfriends at the same time is not for the text-limited posts on tumblr. i'm going to start posting my fics on ao3 too soon... so be on the lookout for that? hehe ✮ author's note 2: there are some instances where the word Bunny and/or Princess are with capital letters and that is to signify Y/N, ok? ok i'm terrible at explaining this .. i just don't like using the Y/N nomenclature. i feel like it pulls me out of the reading ✮ author's note 3: also thanks to @onlymingyus who helped me figure out some scenes! thank you baby 🩵 ✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part iv

The candles were half-burnt, still lit, and sitting on the table with a forgotten charcuterie board and two empty cups of red wine. You had not finished cleaning the table when you got sidetracked by a serious conversation with your boyfriend on the couch.

A conversation that, predictably, ended with a heavy make-out session.

Joshua had to finish packing his suitcase, a thought that he pushed far back into the list of things he needed to get ready before he left for his first tour the following day. The number one priority to him though, was you. Despite the heavy topic of conversation that you both just had, he could match the passion of your kisses quite effortlessly.

It was his last night with you for what would be weeks. He was not sure when he was coming back exactly, since this tour was going to Midnight Haze’s first big tour.

This was a huge achievement. It was something he dreamed about when his band was just a local indie one. Now they were signed. They had their first studio album. And they were going on tour to visit different countries. A dream come true.

However, there was one thing holding him back.

Joshua never thought of himself as a romantic person. Not even remotely. He used to think he was content with being on his own. He never looked for love and made it very explicit with every partner he had. No relationships, no attachments. Only one goal, and he achieved that goal.

But in his journey, he never thought he would fall in laove. He was not expecting you. When he met you and accepted your proposal to have an entirely sexual relationship, he never noticed the warnings in his brain. Joshua blindly gave himself to you.

It shook his world to find you.

He wanted to stay in the coziness of the home you had given him. And to think that you were neighbors for years before you saw and talked to each other… he wondered sometimes what would have happened if you crossed paths differently, would he be here with you?

Involuntarily, his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer on his lap. You stifled a moan in his mouth, one hand cupping his chin, while the other had slid down his chest, clinging onto to his plaid shirt.

“Babe,” you paused, but he protested with a groan, his hand sliding up to the middle of your back to keep you from pulling away from him. “Josh,” you mumbled in between desperate kisses. “You have to pack your things, don’t you?” you asked, a giggle fleeing between your lips.

You knew already that he had to finish packing, but that did not stop you from starting the make-out session. And he knew you were just trying to tease him because there he was, all riled up, becoming more and more addicted to your lips.

“I have till five in the morning,” he responded with a hoarse voice, his hand left your back to meet your cheek. “Come here.”

The hand clinging onto his shirt flattened between his pecs. “I mean, but you also have to sleep, right?”

“I can sleep on the plane.”

Joshua heard an airy chuckle leave your mouth as his hand cupping your cheek motioned you in for another deep, heated kiss. It was his turn to smile into the kiss then your hand on his chest found the first button of his shirt, slowly and almost meekly undoing it with one hand.

But you broke away, a playful grin curving your lips. “Are you sure though? I can help you pack, and then we continue where we left off?”

He shook his head slightly, getting lost in the features of your face. It was going to be a while before he saw you again like this. Even if you were planning to visit him soon, he could not last a day without holding you. He had to make the most of the time he had left with you.

“I want to be close to you tonight,” he mumbled, holding your gaze. “I can pack later.”

“I just don’t want you to be late,” you replied dismissively, because you wanted the same thing as him just as badly.

Joshua smiled in full endearment of your worry. It was not unusual for you to worry about the smallest of things. “Don’t worry, I’ll just throw a few things in there and that’s it,” he shrugged, a knowing look appearing on his face.

You hated that at once, you shook your head. “Joshua, you need to do it right,” you said in a more serious tone, chastising him a little. But when his smile widened, scrunching his nose, you just pushed his shoulder.

“I will, baby,” he reassured, nodding with his head. “But only if you keep kissing me,” he challenged.

You returned the smile. “And if I don’t?”

He shrugged. “I’ll just finish packing and go to sleep,” he said nonchalantly.

You tried holding his gaze, but then your facial features broke into a pout.

“I’m just teasing you, baby,” he giggled, his eyes turning into half moons as he tipped his head back slightly.

You loved the sound of his giggles, sweet and merry. You could not resist yourself, grabbing his face with your hands to plant a kiss on his scrunched nose, catching him off guard. But he recovered quickly, grabbing your waist again to capture your lips with his own, to continue where you left off.

Your hand returned searching for the buttons of his plaid shirt, feeling the curve of his pecs in the process as you undid each button hurriedly, his shirt parting, leaving his chest in sight. Your heartbeat fluttered at the sound of his breathing hitching, and your hands slid beneath the plaid shirt, caressing the bare skin of his chest freely.

His pectorals bulged, and it was hard not to notice them lately. You knew he had been working out consistently as of late, so when your hands cupped his pecs, he bristled.

“Sorry,” you whispered sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he reassured with a soft smile. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Okay,” you breathed out.

Having the green light, your hands explored his chest beneath his shirt, the pads of your thumbs teasing his nipples lightly. You felt his thighs tensing beneath you when you rubbed his nipples gently, cupping and massaging the soft muscle of his pectorals.

Joshua sat up straight, his hands securing you firmly, so you did not lose balance. In a wordless exchange, your hands slid from his chest to his shoulders and down his arms, thus pushing the sleeves of his shirt off him.

Once he was freed from the first piece of clothing on his body, his hands were on you again. Your fingertips grazed his veiny biceps, tracing a line to his collarbones and then cupped his neck, all the while kissing him heatedly, humming slightly on his mouth every time he outlined your lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

“Can I mark you?” you asked with a breathy tone, your fingers trailing down the soft skin of his neck.

Joshua knew why you asked. As his band gained more traction and recognition, their agency had to hire a PR management company, which instructed the Haze boys to be careful with their image.

“No, baby. You can’t,” he replied with a saddened tone. He hated to say no to you. He also hated to have this pristine poster boy front that he did not care for about at all.

“Mn, okay,” you breathed, not giving him the opportunity to see your full reaction, you leaned to kiss him again.

You broke away from the kiss, but rested your forehead on his, slowly littering him with pecks. One hand left the side of his neck, and Joshua tilted his head back to pay attention to the detour your hand was taking. You tucked your hand behind your back, grabbing the lace tying the back of your dress, and unravelling it with one movement.

In a silent sequence, Joshua gathered the long fabric of your dress that you had worn for the occasion by grabbing the skirt in bundles and pulling it up your body. Your hair got ruffled in the process, and you laughed meekly as your fingers removed the strands from your face and tucked them behind your ears.

But Joshua was caught up in the fact that you had been wearing absolutely nothing beneath the dress he had just discarded on the side of the sofa. He took one look at your naked body sitting on top of him, and then his eyes met yours. “Were you wearing nothing beneath that the whole time?”

You nodded with your head meekly, biting your lower lip to hide your smile. “I thought you’d appreciate it,” you shrugged.

Even though you had been together for months now, a blush still painted your cheeks red in utter shyness. From the night he met you, he has seen you naked, due to the nature of your relationship. It was natural for him to see your shyness then, but now, after all these months, he found it endearing.

“You know I do,” he admitted as you leaned over to latch your lips with his. “You know everything you do drives me crazy,” he purred in between kisses.

His hands explored your back, circling over to clutch at the curve of your waist, knowing that would bring your body alight. You pushed your chest to him, muffling a moan in his mouth, something he returned at once when he felt your pebbled nipples on his skin. A hand pressed on your back, squeezing you to his hard body.

Your fingers found his nape, sliding to tangle on the locks of his beautiful dark hair. He dyed it recently with a dark chocolate tone, bringing back the shadow of the man you met when he used to live right next to your apartment. Your fingernails grazed his scalp, bringing out a salacious moan from him.

The sound reverberated against your chest, sending a chill that ran thick through your body. It only egged you on, your fingers trailed down from his nape to his neck, caressing his skin ever so gently.

The delicate touches left tingling sensations in their wake, slowly driving Joshua crazy. His hands clenched the curve of your waist one more time before finding your ass, cupping it with a raspy groan from his part.

You pulled away from his lips with a rich smacking noise. “Not so fast,” you mumbled with a tilt of your head. A confused look shot through the features of his face, making you clarify: “Not until I get your clothes off.”

Joshua understood where you were going right away. His dark, glinting eyes marvelled at the sight of you, face still flushed, naked and on top of him. He nodded, letting you take his wrists and driving his large hands from your ass to your thighs, where they rested instead.

You grabbed his chin with your fingers daintily, leaning over to place a small peck on his lips. “Good boy,” you whispered. “Now let me get you out of those jeans.”

Completely enamored, he just nodded, heart fluttering uneasily in his chest when you flashed him a cute smile. You placed another kiss on the corner of his lips, fingers pinching his chin softly before you carried on with your task.

You raked his torso with the tips of your fingers, making him draw in a breath sharply at the sensation. “I like you so much,” you mumbled with an airy tone, looking at his figure, the curve of his strong shoulders and biceps.

In your admiring his body, you were not aware of his eyes doing the same thing, outlining every inch, every curve of your body on top of his. “You’re so hot,” you added almost aloofly.

“Ditto,” he mumbled, recalling the times you have exchanged a similar expression. He squeezed your thighs gently, bringing your gaze to meet his. There, in his eyes, you saw the love and adoration he felt for you.

You did not resist the urge to kiss him, so you did exactly that by closing the space between your lips.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled sweetly, the statement bringing a light chuckle out of you, so he emphasized: “The hottest. I fell for you instantly.”

“Did you?” you smiled.

“Absolutely,” he whispered. “All grumpy at me in your bunny pjs,” he enjoyed the meek smile appearing on your face. “The prettiest… and the hottest.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile did not disappear. “Shut up,” you mouthed, the aloofness persisted as you ran your hands on his chest, feeling his pecs up. Then he understood that you were entranced, your eyes lost on his nakedness.

“Make me,” he whispered, a knowing smirk spreading on his beautiful lips.

Your smile turned playful, giving him a chaste kiss. “Bad boy,” you whispered, propping yourself on your knees to scoot back a little and then he felt the tips of your fingers on his lower abdomen, making him draw in another breath.

He looked at your fingers tracing a line over the soft hairs of his happy trail, meeting the band of his boxers peeking beneath his jeans. Then he darted a look at your face, finding out that you were biting your lower lip in excitement and anticipation. Your eyes locked with his briefly, the corners of your lips lifting a little right before you tugged at the button of his jeans free.

Joshua smiled slightly when you gave him a rushed, feathery kiss. “Help me?” you whispered, climbing off him and the couch while hooking your fingers on the band of his boxers. He lifted his hips from his seat, as you pulled both his jeans and boxers down his thighs and got rid of them completely.

But instead of climbing back on top of him, you eased down on your knees between his legs. Joshua noticed your eyes widen slightly as you outlined his body, your hands caressing his meaty thighs. He leaned back on the couch, so his head was resting back as he watched you explore his body with your eyes, with your hands.

Joshua was a beautiful man. As you took in the sheer beauty of his body, bathed by the soft orange glow of the lights, you felt lucky of being his partner.

You caressed his thighs with your hands, as he cupped one of your cheeks, making your eyes fall on his bulging biceps and his well toned pecs, the curve that formed beneath them. A half smile tugged his lips when you licked yours.

You held his gaze for a moment, a fluttering sensation invading you in your tummy. Joshua was ready for you, the features of his face relaxing slightly when your hand circled his shaft. You touched him at first, his soft and veiny skin, pumping him gently from the base of his cock to the head slick with precum.

You spread the precum with the palm of your hand all over his cockhead before moving your fist up and down, enjoying the way his gaze darkened, his mouth parted slightly. His lust-filled eyes were trained on you as you leaned down, pressing your lips on the tip of his cock, kissing him playfully.

Joshua smiled lightly at the sight of you, using his fingers to push your hair away from your face. But the smile faded, just as you took his cockhead inside your mouth, licking his precum, humming slightly in delightfulness at the taste of him.

He released a small grunt through his parted rosy lips, you took him deeper inside your mouth, your hand moving to his base to pump him with gentle strokes at first. You bobbed your head slowly, eyes locked on his face to see him responding to you just how you expected.

Joshua closed his eyes, closing his mouth to breathe in slowly. His hand slid from your cheek to the side of your head to thread his fingers through your hair, following the movements of your head on his cock. “Faster… please, baby,” he mumbled faintly.

You followed suit, picking up the pace. You hollowed out your cheeks as you pulled your mouth up to his cockhead, swirling your tongue on his tip. His body tensed on the couch, his nose scrunching as he groaned, gritting his teeth. “Fuck… yes,” he sighed. “Just like that.”

A fluttering sensation invaded you, chest swelling with pride when you heard his raspy, deep grunts escaping him. His fingers coiled around your hair, and his other hand joined on the other side of your head, helping you move on him as you took him in deeper.

Silence had flooded the room, only interrupted by soft, smacking noises and the deep grunts from Joshua. Occasionally, he would cuss under his breath, but his face remained relaxed, lost in the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth expertly.

Joshua loved watching you like this, he loved that you knew every step to drive him absolutely crazy. It was taking everything in him to stop his hips to thrust forward. However, you read his movements, pausing before attempting to take him ever deeper into your mouth, gagging around him as his cockhead reached your throat.

“Careful, baby,” he cautioned, retaking the control. You followed, pausing for breath before you tried to deepthroat him again. He saw your eyes start to water, and his thumb reached to scoop a tear rolling down your cheek.

It was your eagerness to take him whole what made him tip his head back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed a deep moan. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling the muscles of your mouth relax and contract around his cock. “You’re taking me so well, baby.”

Your movements slowed down slightly and became smaller now that his cockhead reached your throat, you retreated your head slightly and pushed again, drool dripping down his shaft and onto your fist. You kept pumping him, though languidly, all your focus was on your mouth on his cock.

“Oh god,” he moaned, opening his eyes to the sight of you deepthroating him, sucking him whole. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasped.  

But then you stopped, carefully pulling your head back. But the change made your eyes water, you coughed a little, breathing through your nose.

His mouth hung open, frowning in confusion. “Why did you stop?” he asked, watching you wipe the drool from your lips with the back of your hand.

You grinned, climbing back on top of him to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re coming when I want you to,” you mumbled sweetly, booping the tip of his nose with your finger.

“Baby,” he rasped chidingly, elongating the final vowel of his protest. But his large hands welcomed you, grabbing your hips as you straddled him.

You giggled, kissing his protruding lower lip as he pouted at you. “You’re cute,” you teased.

His studded eyebrow jumped slightly; you should have known better than playing with him like this. “You think so?”

You nodded with your head, a satisfying look glinting in your eyes. “The cutest baby boy,” you purred, bringing a hand on his nape before kissing him. Your other hand searched for his throbbing cock, blindly guiding it to your sopping wet pussy.

A deep moan vibrated in your mouth when you sank down on him, pausing yet again but now to savor the slight painful but delicious stretch of his cock in your walls. Joshua groaned, dropping his head on the headrest of the couch, his hands kneading on your thighs as if that helped him resist his orgasm.

“Look at you,” you cooed softly. “You look so good like this,” you added, toeing between mocking him and appreciating the sweet features of his face riddled by pleasure.

Joshua gulped hard. His gaze, darkened by lust outlined the features of your face as you rolled your hips on his cock. He could not lie, he loved when you took control, he loved to see you grow confident on top of him.

But with one, sudden movement, he thrusted you onto the cushions of the couch. The non-existent heed for your body made you yelp in surprise. He propped himself on his knees, grabbing the back of yours to press your thighs onto your chest.

“Joshua–,” you tried protesting, your face broken in utter confusion when in seconds, he had torn through your dominance like ripping through a piece of paper.

You braced yourself before it happened. Joshua brought down his hand on your exposed cunt, slapping it firmly. Both excitement and pain shot through your body, making you cry out a loud moan that sounded lewder than anything.

Joshua heard the rawness in your moan and understood right away that you had liked it. He tilted his head to one side, smirking as he asked: “Want more?”

You nodded, a glazed look in your eyes before you closed them briefly. Joshua brought his hand down again, right on your sensitive clit, noticing your arousal smeared on the pads of his fingers. He pushed his fingers between your wet folds, to rub circles on your swollen nub.

You flinched when his hand slapped your cunt, but the sound coming out of your mouth did not convey pain. Your face scrunched up in pleasure, your eyebrows knitted, and glossy lips puckered. “More.”

Joshua stopped rubbing your clit with his fingers, raising his hand once more to bring it down with a harsher slap, enjoying the whiny sound tearing through you. He continued to rub your cunt, getting unbearably harder when he noticed the arousal pooling in your entrance. “Filthy girl,” he whispered, a smirk playing in his lips.

“More,” you demanded, your tone dropping to a question.

But Joshua had removed his hand from your throbbing pussy, his fingers encircling around his shaft, pumping it to smear your wetness all over himself. “You’ll take what I give you.”

He then placed a hand on the arm rest above your head, lowering himself on your body as his hand grabbing his hard cock drove it to your entrance, easing himself inside you in one go, filling you up to the point of bringing you to tears.

An airy moan escaped you, and it was not only because his weight was on top of your legs, crushing your chest almost. It was also feeling his girthy cock stretching your pussy, reaching a spot inside you that had your walls clenching around him.

“F-fuck,” you gritted, pushing your head back onto the cushions of the couch. “Joshua,” you whimpered, grabbing his shoulder with one hand. “S-so deep.”

Tears spilled when you blinked, bringing out a wolfish grin from him. “Who’s cute now,” he purred, starting to slam his hips against you with a fast, near animalistic pace. As much as he loved seeing you try your hand at domming him, he loved even more to be the one in charge.

The depth of his hard thrusts became addictive, like fire consuming you rapidly. You writhed beneath him; the tip of his cock reaching a glorious spot inside you every time he slammed his hips against yours.

“Oh god, Josh…” you said between deep breaths. “I’m coming.”

Joshua smiled like this was a game that he just won. But he nodded, kissing the inner side of your knee. He revelled at the sight of you like this: you were crying, stirring, and whining loudly as your orgasm washed over you, making your walls clamp erratically around his cock.

But he kept thrusting inside you, loving the wet sounds that came from your pussy, the way your moans turned airy and raspy. Your eyes had rolled back, your mouth fell open, and he committed to memorize that image of you.

“Joshua… Joshua…” you whimpered, over and over until you were completely breathless.

He eased one of your legs from your chest, wordlessly commanding you to wrap it around his waist, lowering his hips on you, burying his cock deep inside you again. You moaned languidly; eyes closed as you savored the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm.

Joshua was lost in you. In the midst of it all, the faint reminder that this was your last night together in some weeks made his heart clench. He leaned his head down to press his lips on your forehead, the tip of your nose and your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder.

You hummed in response, opening your eyes to see his face. “I love you, Joshua,” you responded, cupping his cheek with one hand to kiss him deeply.

Joshua rested his forehead on yours, sliding a hand under your nape, his fingers tangling in your hair. He retook the brutal pace of his thrusts, feeling your mouth fall open and he blindly mimicked you. Now you were breathing on each other’s mouths, moaning in unison.

Your hands circled his back, holding onto him for dear life as his thrusts knocked the air out of your lungs. “Baby, don’t,” Joshua rasped when your fingernails started digging on the soft skin of his back, bringing out a raw moan from him. “Oh, you fucking brat,” he groaned in both pain and pleasure as you dragged your fingernails down his back, piercing his skin.

You giggled impishly, and he responded with a grin. You removed a hand from his back, cupping his cheek to pull him into a hot, sloppy kiss. He groaned in your mouth, egging you to kiss the underside of his jaw, the curve of his neck, his throat.

“Fuck,” he whispered when you suckled the sensitive spot on his neck you liked so much. But he did not protest or stop your rebellious marking of his neck and back.

You brought his lips back to yours, kissing him chastely. “A little reminder,” you whispered. “So that everyone knows you’re mine,” you traced a circle with the tip of your finger around the marked spot on his neck.

Joshua moaned, pushing his hips desperately against you. “Leave more,” he gasped. “Mark me,” he whispered out his plea to you, turning his head so you could have an easy access to his neck.

The thought of you being possessive over him drove him crazy, pushing him to lose control on top of you. He rolled his hips against you, moaning salaciously as you marked him up from his collarbone to his throat.

“Fuck, baby. Ah. God, fuck,” he squeezed his eyes, scrunching his nose as his thrusts became sloppy. “I’m coming,” he whispered, dropping his head on your shoulder. He moaned repeatedly, fucking his cum deep into your walls.

He pressed his body on yours gently. You wrapped your legs around him as you both regained energies, enjoying each other’s warmth.

You brought a hand to caress his nape, your fingers threading gently his hair. His face was still nuzzled in the curve of your neck, breathing raggedly on your skin. Then he moved his head and rested it on your chest, humming tiredly but relishing in the gentleness of your touch.

Your hand slid from his nape, now caressing gently over the scratch marks you left. A lazy smile drew on your face when you ran your fingertips over the bumpy lines along the line of his back.

Joshua heard you smile, lifting his head to press your lips with his own in a tender way. “Bad girl,” he whispered playfully. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? I didn’t see a lot of resistance from your part,” you teased.

“How could I resist? You have a very effective method of persuasion,” he smirked, nose wrinkling when you chuckled.

“Do I now? Since when?” 

“Since forever,” he rolled his eyes, laughing at the way your voice raised higher. “And you’ve known it since day one.”

“Mm, I don’t think I did,” you mumbled with a sing-song tone. You did that whenever you flirted with him.

Joshua gave you a sweet smile, one of those that melted your heart. “No? Well, you’ve had me wrapped around your finger ever since.”

Your face took on a more serious look, your gaze fell on his lips. You wished to make this moment longer, to postpone his departure. A dark part inside you, one dominated by greed, wanted to ask him to stay with you.

“I love you,” you whispered, searching his eyes again. You tried to convey with those simple words that you were going to miss him, that you wanted to stay with him in this moment forever.

Joshua read your face, noticing that your mood had dropped a little. “I love you,” he replied, thinking of what to say.

And then, a loud knock came to the door.

You jerked in alarm beneath him, drawing in a sharp breath. “Oh god,” you whispered, stretching your neck to look at the door.

But Joshua did not move.

“Josh, someone’s at the door,” you whispered, your body recoiling again when the knock became louder.

“Pretend we’re not in,” he mumbled, nestling his head on your shoulder again.

You turned to look at him in utter disbelief. “Babe,” you tried to move him with one hand. “Move so that I can see who is knocking.”

“But we’re not in,” he did not move an inch.

But whoever was at the other side of the door was not quitting either, knocking once more with urgency.

Joshua groaned in complete annoyance, pushing his body up with his hands, peeling himself off you. “Wait here,” he commanded, a hand reaching for the blanket on the arm rest and draping it over your body.

You watched him curiously as he put on his boxers and walked up to the door, yanking it open and peering out to the hall. Holding the blanket to your chest, you propped your elbow on the cushions of the couch, trying to get what was happening on the exchange.

Joshua appeared to nod his head, stepping closer to the doorframe as if to cover the interior to the apartment to the eyes of whoever was standing in front of him. He nodded once more, lifting a hand to receive something and closed the door with a sharp move.

He rolled his eyes, exhaling softly as he discarded a piece of paper on the table, walking back to you.

“Who was that?” you asked upon seeing his face scrunched up in annoyance.

“We just got a noise complaint,” he announced. “Another one.”

Your heart dropped. “Why?” you demanded, trying to sit up on the couch but you stopped yourself with a horrified expression: “We can’t have more than two, we’ll get an eviction notice.”

“I know, I know,” he muttered softly, sitting next to you on the edge of the couch. “Relax, baby. We could look for another apartment somewhere else,” he shrugged with ease, but you could tell he was still annoyed.

You gaped at him. “What?” you uttered.

“By the looks of it, they want us out of here,” he explained solemnly.

“Why do you say that?”

“They had a noise complaint printed and ready to deliver it,” he exhaled, pushing his hair back with one hand. “Seems like they were waiting for the perfect moment to do it.”

You eased back, sighing with him. “God,” you frowned. “Well, I don’t like that. We weren’t being loud!”

Joshua arched one eyebrow at your protest.

“Not like other times,” you mumbled sheepishly, but your eyes wandered into the nothingness. Your mind had started to fly through all the possible routes of action.

“Hey,” he mumbled, yanking you away from your thoughts. “It’s okay. We could start looking for an even nicer place, with bigger rooms…” he said, his tone fading off.

“Mmn, yeah,” you replied, not noticing that he had thought of something else.

But he recovered swiftly, patting your tummy gently. “Let’s not think about it right now, yeah?” he suggested, giving you a soft smile. “Let me take care of you.”

He rose to his feet, pushing the blanket off and with great ease, he scooped you from the couch, carrying you in his arms bridal style. You squealed in surprise, but you welcomed the nice act, smiling at him softly.

In the shower, he noticed your dreamy eyes on him. “I wonder,” you asked, bringing a finger to connect the marked spots on his neck and collarbones.

“What?” he asked, finishing to rinse the shampoo from his deep brown hair.

“What your fans might will say about these,” you mumbled, finishing the trail of connected lovebites, the last one sitting bellow his collarbone.

“There’s already a lot of speculation,” he said, grabbing your finger from his chest to kiss the pad.

“Oh? What is it about?”

Joshua shrugged with ease. “It’s mostly a debate between people that think that I have a partner and people that think that I’m a serial fuckboy.”

You snorted at the last bit of the sentence.

“Is that funny?” his studded eyebrow twitched slightly.

“A little,” you mumbled, slipping your arms around his neck. “Serial fuckboy,” you teased with a grin. “If they only knew.”

He rolled his eyes at your teasing. He closed the water tap, being so that you both had finished cleaning up. His hands circled your waist, keeping a hand flatly pressed on your lower back. “They’ll go crazy with their speculations when they see these,” he pointed with his nose to his chest.

“That just comes with the job, right?” you mused, looking at him almost dazedly.

He leaned his face to yours, water dripping down his forehead and the tip of his nose. “I just don’t want them to snoop on what we have together,” he shrugged lightly.

“What if that happens?” you asked on a more serious tone.

His beautiful dark eyes read your face intently, but he just shook his head lightly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It won’t happen,” he said, his tone lace with promise.

Then he removed his arms from your body, reaching behind you to grab your bathrobe, offering it to you. “You’re pretty sure of that,” you observed as he helped you put the robe on.

“What are you thinking? Do you want to plan?” he offered, darting a look to your face.

You could tell that the topic of conversation made him uncomfortable. He didn't like the idea of the world knowing about you and, quite possibly, ruining your writing career, in which anonymity was a major part.

“I just think that I want to be ready if they find out about our relationship,” you said nonchalantly, exiting the shower and went ahead to towel dry your hair. “If it comes to it, we can handle it. Who knows, maybe it won’t be that bad,” you suggested offhandedly, walking out of the bathroom.

Joshua followed you to the bedroom after wiping himself with his towel. “Wait, you’re not worried about your anonymity?”

“I don’t know, Josh,” you sighed, sitting down on the foot of the bed. You clasped your hands on your towel, pausing pensively. “I think that it’s best if we’re prepared.”

Joshua walked up to you slowly, making your eyes swivel from the wall of the room to meet his gaze. “Why don’t we leave the plans for another night, mn?” he suggested, bringing a hand to your cheek, cupping it briefly.

You nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Alright,” you said.

He pulled a pair of clean boxers up to his waist and turn around to continue packing his bags. You noticed he did this in a near mechanical way, by grabbing the clothes that were already folded from the closet. You drew your legs in and hugged them as you continued to see him finish packing the first of his suitcases.

As Joshua turned to continue with his task, it was then when you noticed his back, red with the marks you left with your fingernails, some of the scratches looked thicker than others. “Oh my god, I marked you up so bad,” you giggled shamefully, bringing a hand to cover your face.

Joshua gave you a confused look, but then he understood. “Is it that bad?” he walked over to the full body mirror you had on one corner of the bedroom, turning to peek to his marked up back.

His eyes fell on you, sitting cross-legged on the bed, one hand covering your face in complete shame. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s not bad, baby,” he decided, turning around to take a few steps toward the foot of the bed where you still sat.

He planted a knee on the edge of the bed, followed by his hands at the same time you laid back, moving your legs for him to slot his body between them.

“I kind of like it,” he said, pressing his lips on the tip of your nose. “I like it when you act all possessive over me,” he smirked. “And I remembered that you have a thing for pain during sex.”

You let out a muffled sigh. “Josh! I don’t think I do,” you countered, but your tone sounded so insecure that it had you smiling shamefully.

“Mn, you bratty little thing, did you like to inflict pain on me?” he purred, enjoying the flustered look on your face. He did not wait for your answer, because he already knew it. “If it makes you feel better, I liked it too.”

“Why don’t we do it more often?” you pried, sneaking a look at his eyes that had your tummy clenching in nervousness.

Joshua had to pause for a second to gather his thoughts. “It’s not the thing that I’m more inclined to do,” he said pensively, his eyelids hooded to look at your face. “And also, I still don’t know how far I can take you.”

“Well then we should try it one day and see,” you offered him a meek smile.

“If you want to, baby,” he whispered, planting a light kiss on the tip of your nose. “Let’s add it to the list.”

Okay, you breathed, noticing the heavy-lidded eyes starting to look drowsy, even his speech had started to become slow and slurry. “Let’s go to bed?” you offered.

Joshua nodded his head slowly. “Let’s go to bed,” he accepted.

You moved on the bed until you reached the fluffy pillows. Scurrying beneath the covers you patiently waited for your boyfriend to occupy his space in your bed. You watched him get beneath the bed sheets beside you, a soft smile drawing on his face when you scooted to him at once.

You had four hours until he had to go to the airport. You saw his phone screen lit up, showing the picture he had of you as his wallpaper. He made no note of your eyes shifting from his phone to his face, he was deep in thought.

“Nervous?” you whispered.

He nodded again, much as if it were sinking within him that these were his last hours of normalcy before he was launched back into the wild-paced life that is being a rockstar.

“You’re going to do great, baby,” you said with a reassuring tone. “I’ll be here cheering you on, watching you.”

A warm feeling poured over his heart. “Once I learn when I have a break, I’ll come see you,” he promised, the feeling in his heart making his tone quiver. “Or I’ll fly you in wherever I’m at.”

Joshua hated how repetitive he sounded. He said this right before he left for his first tour. And you wondered, inevitably, if this time would be different.

“Take things easy,” you mumbled, your speech had started to sound languid too, dragging the words. “I don’t want you to stress yourself over things you can’t control, Joshua. And those you can, take them one at a time.”

Your boyfriend had to pause and let your words take form inside his mind. When he knew what you meant, he nodded. “I’m trying,” he said faintly. He knew you meant well. He did. But he could not help but feel a deep wave of shame wash over him. “I’m trying to get better at this.”

Your eyes dropped. “I know, babe, that’s not what I meant,” you tried to justify, but it was too late. “I–I just mean–I don’t want you to stress yourself too much.” 

He pushed the feeling deep down and nodded. “I won’t, baby. Don’t worry,” he breathed out the words. He shifted under the covers and onto his back. “Come over here,” he motioned you to his chest, and you lied your head on his heart.

You felt his hand searched for yours, and you instinctively held his fingers. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing the tips of your fingers one by one to then kiss your knuckles.

You raised your head a little, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love you,” you mumbled, drawing his gaze from the darkness to yours.

“I love you,” he mumbled back, pressing your lips with a featherlight kiss. “So much,” he emphasized.

It broke your heart to hold back your true feelings about him leaving. Joshua already looked sad. As though he were mere minutes to leave, not hours. You lied back on his chest, his heartbeat strumming under your ear, bringing you to a quick sleep without you even knowing.

Joshua did not want to leave either. And that thought he carried onto his dreams.

His sleep was interrupted abruptly. A tight feeling trying to choke him was what drove him to snap his eyes open. As his mind gained some lucidity, the bits and pieces of his dream stung his eyes, the tight feeling coiling in his chest giving way to a broken sob.

“Joshua?” you raised your head right away, bringing a hand to touch his cheek. “What’s wrong? Babe?”

It took him some time to realize that he could not move, fear set in instantly, but he held onto the touch of your hands, and the sound of your voice calling his name. First, he blinked the tears away, letting them go unwillingly but his eyes found you, then his hands.

“Joshua, answer me,” he heard you plead, the worry in your tone palpable.

“I’m okay,” he rasped, gulping hard before reassuring, more to himself than to you: “I’m okay.”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you said, not buying his words.

Joshua frowned before he could even understand what you were demanding. He closed his eyes briefly, his eyelids trembled over the tears that threatened to brim in. Fragments of what he saw last flooded his mind and he shook his head, remembering nothing.

“I think it was just a bad dream, baby,” he reassured. But the broken feeling in his chest persisted.

Your thumb caressed his cheek. “You can talk to me,” you mumbled, and when his eyes found your face again, he saw the worry he had heard in your tone.

“I don’t remember anything,” he swore, and he saw your eyes dim. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

You nodded, placing your head back on his chest. Your hand lowered from his cheek, caressing his bare chest.

Joshua heard you release a sigh, and then your body eased back on top of him. The caress of your hand ceased slowly, and then he knew that you had fallen asleep again.

It would not be long before he came back. He would go away from some weeks, then he would come back and leave again; he would have opportunities to come back home to you. To sleeping next to you. Being with you.

But the prospect of not having this frightened him. Joshua had not only fallen in love with you, but with the tiny, quiet life he had by your side. He just had to learn to find the balance between this life he was so in love with and the life he had worked so hard to achieve.

Joshua woke up again to the sound of his alarm, jolting at the frantic stammering of his heart, his fist instinct was to reach for his phone and shut the beeping alarm off.

His arms encircled you again, it seemed as though you had not changed positions, your head was still lying on his chest. You inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of his skin, humming sweetly as his hand found a way beneath your t-shirt, caressing your back.

Not a word was spoken. But there was an unmistakable feeling lingering in the air that you both tried to push away. Joshua met your cheek with his hand, at the same time that you craned your neck to find his lips with your own.

You brushed his hair back with your hand, a low moan coiling in the back of your throat when he wrapped you with one arm, effortlessly pulling your body on top so your front was fully flushed with his.

His hand moved from your cheek to meet the curve of your waist, sliding down to grip your hips from both sides while you moved your knees on each of his sides, straddling him. Your hands cupped his beautiful face, deepening the slow and sloppy kiss.

Both of you hummed at the same time, Joshua’s low, raspy tone only caused you to sit harder on his lower tummy. His hands helped you move down on him, now pressing your crotch to his, swallowing a moan as your tongue outlined his lower lip.

“Josh, we don’t have time for this,” you whispered, a tiny giggle making your words quiver. “We’ll be late.”

“I don’t care,” he responded gruffly, his hand was already searching for your panties, pushing them aside with one finger as you lifted your hips.

Your hand pushed his boxers down, grabbing his cock by the thick shaft. You rolled your hand once, pumping him a couple of times before easing yourself down on him. A strangled moan came out of you once you bottomed out on him.

“Alright?” he whispered, hearing your groan, and recognizing that it was not entirely from pleasure.

“It’s okay,” you replied, bending over to rest your forehead on his. “I’m just a bit sore from last night, that’s all.”

“We can stop,” he offered, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.

You shook your head. “Just give me a minute,” you mumbled shakily.

Joshua nodded slightly. “Kiss me,” he whispered, moving his hand from your hip to your cheek, bringing your lips to his own.

He moaned as your walls tensed and loosened around his cock, your warmth covering him down to his hilt as your arousal started to drip down. Just to feel him hard and buried deep inside you turned you on so badly you kissed him harder, making him moan.

“You don’t have to move,” he rasped when he felt your hips swaying up and down. “We can stay like this.”

“I want to feel you,” you responded quietly, rolling your hips with a fuller motion. You joined your lips with his, slowly deepening the kiss.

Joshua moaned, letting himself be swallowed by your warmth and love, trying to memorize to heart what it feels like being yours. To be loved by you. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing out the euphoric feeling gripping him wholly.

You pulled back for air, your lips making a soft smacking noise when you broke the kiss. “I love you, Joshua,” you breathed, burying your fingers in his mane of dark hair.

“I love you too,” he responded, his voice thickening with emotion. “You can’t imagine how much.”

Even though it was early in the morning, the airport was busy. As you climbed out of the car, you noticed Joshua’s anxiety kicking in. The posture of his body changed, and his gaze seemed to darken, and it was not only because of the hairs of his fringe tangling with his eyelashes. It was the way he looked around, probably making sure that the coast was clear.

Joshua did this lately. After he made sure that no one had known of his whereabouts, he extended a hand for you to hold. And when you did, he laced his long fingers with yours, pulling you closer as though he did not want you to get caught in the sea of people.

“Do you see Hannie?” he asked quietly beside you, adjusting the mask covering his mouth and squaring his shoulders to shift the backpack hanging on his shoulders.

You shook your head no. In fact, you had not started looking for him until your boyfriend suggested the idea for you.

Finding Jeonghan was quick. And easy. “There,” you squeezed Joshua’s hand with yours and nodded to the man perched on a massage chair.

Jeonghan’s head was lolling to one side languidly, his chest and shoulders shaking as the massage chair worked on his back. Joshua spotted the man as soon as you pointed and changed courses to meet up to him.

“Hey,” Joshua gently budged his shoulder, freeing the handle of his suitcase to do so.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, raising his head to peer under his baseball cap. “Oh, Joshuji,” he giggled awkwardly when his voice vibrated too. “There you are, you two. You’re late.”

“Yeah, you don’t say,” Joshua mumbled dismissively. “Let’s go, Hannie,” he urged the man, budging him another time but firmer, chuckling as he did so.

“Can’t you wait until this thing finishes?” he nagged, but then surrendered quickly when Joshua used his hand again to slap his shoulder. “Ah! Fine, okay,” he sighed, rising to his feet in front of you. “Hi, baby,” he muttered warmly.

“Hi, Jeongjeong,” you smiled at him, seeing his face made your tummy flutter uneasily. His eyes found yours, right before he planted a peck on your lips. His hand brushed your arm gently before he placed one peck on the tip of your nose.

The fluttering feeling intensified, making your breathing ragged. Your eyes shifted to your surroundings, thinking that people would find it weird that you were kissing one man while holding the hand of another man.

But you found out that no one was paying attention to you.

“Come on,” Joshua squeezed your hand gently.

“Okay,” Jeonghan conceded, following you when Joshua pulled you to his direction as he strode to do check his bags. Where you stayed back with Jeonghan as you both waited for Joshua.

“You’re okay, princess?” Jeonghan asked quietly, standing with his arms crossed and closely behind you.

You turned to see his eyes, partly covered by his cap. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied flatly, but your lie was made obvious by the way you quickly yanked your gaze from his face. “You know,” you sighed. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Well, it’ll just be a few weeks,” he said in a consoling tone. “And we are going to visit him, we’ll watch him play for the biggest venues, it’ll be fine.”

You searched his eyes one more time. The confidence and reassurance he offered you never failed to do their work.

And he also never failed to read you perfectly well. “It’s not that what’s got you anxious, is it?” he mumbled with a lower tone.

You swallowed your words.

“What happened to trusting him?” he mused, the slightest of smirks playing on his lips. “When did that fly out the window?”

“I’m just overthinking,” you brushed off, sending a glance towards your boyfriend and felt guilty. “I didn’t like doing long distance the first time he went away.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Again, baby. It’ll be just a few weeks,” he leaned his head to his shoulder, looking at you with gentle eyes. “Don’t be afraid. Let’s just trust him, okay?”

Joshua was walking back to you and Jeonghan, you knew by the look on his face that he needed to go. “The boys are at the gates already,” he mentioned, sighing with heavy reluctance, and looked to you. “I have to go now.”

You nodded, but you could not stop the remorse gripping your heart. “Yeah, okay,” you forced out.

Joshua scanned the features of your face briefly before turning to Jeonghan. They exchanged a meaningful look, making you wish for the nth time to tap into the wavelength they jealously kept to themselves. But you kept your eyes on them as Joshua extended a hand for Jeonghan to clasp firmly.

Joshua pulled him into a hug. “Ah, okay,” Jeonghan muttered with an air of awkwardness, being caught by surprise. “I’ll miss you too, Joshuji,” he coughed up a chuckle.

“Take care, Jeonghannie,” Joshua brought up his hand to pat on his best friend’s head, and something told you this used to be a normal exchange between them.

“Yeah, you too,” Jeonghan darted a look to your face. “Keep in touch, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.”

It was then that you felt some semblance of reassurance. You could feel your own distractions dissipating as soon as you saw the two men you love hugging each other. Joshua was trying to change, so you had to let go of your fears too.

“Course,” Joshua muttered as he stepped back, a weary look in his eyes as these searched you one more time.

You reached out to him just as his arms wrapped you in, once your chest was tightly pressed against his, you let out a tiny sob.

“No, baby, don’t cry, please,” he muttered, turning his face so he could press a kiss on the crown of your head.

You took a big gulp of air to calm your sobs. “I’ll miss you, Josh,” you told him, tightening your arms around his torso.

“I’ll miss you too, baby,” he replied with a strained voice. As soon as he heard your sobs, the sharp feeling returned to grip his heart. “I’ll call you. Every day.”

“Please,” you whispered shakily, moving your face to meet his.

The feeling coiled around his heart tighter when he saw your teary eyes, but you kept yourself steady and strong as you locked eyes with him. Your plea to him was clear, and he nodded to you.

“I promise,” he whispered back, leaning down to press his lips in your forehead.

You grabbed his face with your hands, giving him a quick kiss. “I love you,” you mumbled meekly.

Joshua sighed, smiling at the shyness you displayed. “Kiss me properly,” he giggled into your mouth before slotting his lips between yours.

A warm tingling feeling invaded you, lingering beneath your hot cheeks. The kiss deepened, and even if you were aware of Jeonghan’s eyes on both you and Joshua, you let yourself ease into the kiss, moving your lips on his in a seamless dance.

“I love you,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, leaning to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

And with that, Joshua released you from his embrace, patting Jeonghan’s shoulder right before turning to walk towards the gates, where he joined the mass of people and eventually disappeared.

Joshua was gone again.

The ride back home was a strong reminiscent of the first time Joshua left on tour.

The sun was rising, the wet pavement was shimmering with the sunlight and from the rain that washed overnight. The windows of the car were covered with a light layer of mist, you rubbed your hands together, trying to warm them up a little.

You lifted one finger and drew a smiley face on the car window.

“Oi,” Jeonghan jolted you awake. “No drawing on the windows!” he berated you playfully.

You added some rays around the face, turning it into a smiley sun.

“Ah, you little…” he giggled, sliding a hand on your thigh. “So, have you decided what you want for breakfast?”

You shook your head, gaze falling on Jeonghan’s hand parked on your thigh. “I just want to go home.”

“Okay, home it is then,” he mumbled sweetly.

You paused for a second. “I do want blueberry muffins, though.”

“Ah, alright,” he giggled, patting your thigh gently. “Let’s go get muffins, baby.”

You knew that Jeonghan had commenced his plan to distract you from the emptiness of going back to an empty apartment. When you got there, and saw the table cluttered with the stuff from the dinner of the night before, it was not as painful as you thought it would be.

Jeonghan kept quiet at first, helping you remove the cups of wine and taking them to the sink. The glances he sent to check on you continued until he decided you were alright, that your silence was not because you felt sad, and although you did, it was merely because you were going to miss Joshua.

“Do you want coffee?” Jeonghan, his soft voice breaking through the barriers of your mind.

“I’d love that,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

You followed him to the kitchen, putting the rest of the plates in the sink. “Leave that there,” Jeonghan muttered as you reached for the scrub. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“You don’t have to, Hannie,” you said, noticing that he was trying to accommodate to your gloomy mood and do nice things for you.

“But I want to,” he shrugged, but then you saw a light smirk lifting the corners of his pretty lips. “You do the breakfast, though. It’s your turn,” he said, finishing with a broader smile.

“Pff, okay,” you huffed, a smile appearing on your face.

Jeonghan’s eyes lit up, outlining the features of your face swiftly. “And then maybe we could watch a movie,” he offered, trying to hold your gaze for as long as he could. “But then I have to go to work.”

You raised your eyes to his. And he noticed the question written in your face.

“Wanna come with?”

You nodded with your head silently.

“Okay, then,” he breathed in, pressing the button on the coffee maker on. Then he busied himself with doing the dishes, swiftly looking your way as you prepared two omelettes.

A shy smile crept on your face, being scrutinized by his sweet brown eyes just made you feel uneasy. Jeonghan noticed, moving to stand behind you so you would not feel his gaze on you, but then he did matters worse. His arms encircled your waist, hugging you from behind, his chest pressed to your back.

“What?” he asked when you lowered your head, smiling when he pressed a kiss on your shoulder.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, squirming slightly when his breath fanned your nape. “You make me nervous.”

“Why?” he whispered, he looked at your eyes, then your lips.

“I like you,” you replied in kind. You thought it was obvious.

The way his eyes lit up made your stomach flutter with butterflies. “I like you more, princess,” he said, his low tone quivering.

Your cheeks tingled, making you focus back on the stove and served two plates almost in a methodical way. “Do you think it’s strange?” you pried. “That I want to be with two people at once?”

“You know I don’t think so,” he replied matter-of-factly. “If the real question is, do I think people would find it strange, then yes.”

You coughed up a chuckle. “That’s helpful,” you scoffed, but you could not ignore that it had deflated you a little.

“But they’re not us,” you felt him shrug behind you. “What matters is what happens between Joshua, you and me, right?”

“What do you think?”

Jeonghan pondered for a second. He stopped hugging you and took the plates from the counter, turning to set them on the table. "Sit," he nodded to the chair before turning back to grab the two cups of coffee.

You sat down as Jeonghan set a cup down on the table for you and then himself. He then dropped himself into the seat next to you, a hand flipping the visor of baseball cap.

The tips of his ears poked out; his hair tucked behind them. You instinctively reached out to push some lose hairs behind his ear, drawing his heavy lashed eyes to yours.

A small smile appeared on his face as he caught your hand, pressing his lips to the pads of your fingers. Your stomach dropped in nervousness.

“So?”

“I don’t think it’s weird that you want to be with Joshua and me at the same time,” he said, sinking his fork into the omelette. As he chewed on his food, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling, appearing to be formulating his sentence: “I think we haven’t talked about the… more complicated aspects of dating two people at the same time. At least not the three of us.”

“Oh, so you have. You and Joshua?” you raised your eyebrows.

He nodded. “I asked him if he was sure about all of this,” his lips pouted as he chewed.

“What did he say?” you asked slowly.

“Eat,” he motioned to your untouched food, noticing that you were so caught up with the conversation that you forgot to eat your omelette. “I asked why he agreed to this, since he’s the most jealous guy I’ve ever known,” he shrugged, pausing with the piece of omelette in front of his mouth. “He says he doesn’t know why, but he wants this. You know?”

You nodded, chewing on your food.

“But I think we need to have this conversation again, the three of us when he comes back,” he continued, much as if his thoughts had organized neatly in his head. “Because I’m new to this, sometimes I feel like I’m catching up to the two of you.”

“I’m new to this too,” you frowned.

“I mean that I’m sort of… joining the two of you. Joshua and you already have an established relationship,” his eyes flitted around the room. From the two large noise amps that sat on the corner of the living room, to the table beside the dining table covered in photo frames of shots of you and Joshua. His eyes glanced at the shoe rack by the front door, filled with your and Joshua’s shoes before resting on you once more. “I just got to the party.”

You smiled at the way he conceptualized the polycule you have arranged. You set your elbow on the table, resting your head on your fist. “Well, we have time to bring you up to speed,” you smirked at him.

That seemed to catch his attention. His eyebrow quirked up. “Mm, I like to hear that,” he smirked back at you. He looked at your other hand resting on the table and did not hesitate to take it in his, his fingers playing with yours. “When do we start?”

“Today,” you giggled when you did not skip a beat to give him your answer. “You need to get ready because you're going to speed through this, old man.”

Jeonghan laughed, the sound of his chuckles warming your heart. “Oh yeah?” he arched an eyebrow. “What are we going to speed through today?”

“I don’t know what the steps are,” you admitted. “Joshua and I kind of flew through the steps to having conventional a relationship.”

“And I just got here to make it even more unconventional?” he added, smirking playfully.

“Or to make it more fun,” you quipped but then you shook your head. “I don’t know. You could take me out on a fancy dinner. Give me a reason to dress up.”

“Is that step number one?” he asked, enjoying your playful back and forth.

“Oh, no, you’re in like step number five already,” you quipped with a light chuckle.

“Ah, yeah?” he raised his eyebrows. “When did I climb the other four steps?”

You held up a hand and showed him your pointer finger, signaling a number one. “We hold hands,” you held up another finger, signaling number two. “We’ve kissed, multiple times. Three, we’ve slept together, four we’ve had sex–,”

“Multiple times,” he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. What’s next?”

You shrugged. “You tell me,” taking a big gulp from your cup of coffee.

“I’d like you to meet my friends,” he said, giving you a meaningful look.

Jeonghan gave a lot of importance to his friendships. You knew that even before you met him, since Joshua told you about him, about him being his greatest confidant. So, meeting his friends meant a lot to him.

Your ears perked up at this. “Oh, your friends from work?” you asked, and he nodded with his head meekly. “Let’s do it. I’d love that.”

“Nice,” he smiled with satisfaction. “Step number five.”

“You’re gonna grow bored,” he commented off-handedly as he held the door open for you.

“That’s why I brought a book with me,” you replied with a sing-song tone. “I don’t really know what you do for your job, so I probably will be paying attention to you.”

“That’s not…” he sighed and dropped his gaze to the ground, smiling shyly. He took your hand, looking at your fingers as you laced them with his.

You laughed in nervousness at your own bad attempts at flirting.

Jeonghan lead you through the establishment. You had been here before, but everything you remembered about the place was a blur. That time you were distraught, your mind was cluttered with thoughts about your big argument with Joshua, and your feelings for Jeonghan.

The interior of the place was beautiful, it struck you along with its quietness. As you followed Jeonghan through its cold halls, you marvelled at the walls decorated with large posters of their most successful plays.

“This way,” Jeonghan whispered, not really noticing that you saw his name plastered on one of the posters. He opened a door to you, showing you to the room that extended bellow you in rows of seats, and large steps that lead to the big stage. “Come on.”

The stage was not vacant, as you initially had expected. A group of people sat in a circle, and some were practicing a choreography in the background, a couple of men pushing a large stage prop to one corner.

It was so packed in fact that no one noticed you and Jeonghan coming in. “Wait here,” he mumbled, showing you to one seat in the front row.

You watched as Jeonghan paced towards the stage, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows. Something encircling his wrist caught your eye, just as he grabbed it to toy with it. It was your scrunchie, and it had been so long since you had seen it that it brought a smile to your face.

You sat down on the seat, closely following Jeonghan. He put himself to work at once, he was handed a tablet and people approached him, you saw him nod and shake his head, then he pointed at the stage lights.

He nodded to the person he was speaking to and seemingly came to an agreement. Then he turned, looking at the tablet in his hands as he approached your seat in the front row.

“Bored yet?” he asked, seating himself beside you.

“The opposite,” you grinned. “What are you doing?”

He lowered the tablet on his thigh. “Just doing a general revision before this rehearsal. We’re closer to putting this show together. These are the final days before the opening show,” he motioned to the table sitting on his lap. “And here I can see which are the scenes we’re going to rehearse, and I know what to oversee.”

You moved your head up and down, slowly. “Interesting,” you noted. “And what scene are we rehearsing today?”

Jeonghan leaned to your side, looking at the screen. “At the gates of Emerald city,” he recited the title scene with a pleased tone. “So, lightings, costume changes, the song, and choreography. Easy.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Easy, eh?” you mumbled.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth pensively. “I just have to make sure that everything’s going smoothly, you know?” he smirked. “Imagine I’m the teacher and the class are showing me their homework.”

You laughed, and that brought a big smile to his face. “And that’s all you do?”

“I get the playwright, the writers, the cast, the crew, and the budget,” he listed with a straight face, but you saw the cunning in his eyes. “I call the shots, baby.”

You snorted but drew from his confidence to say: “Alright, chief. Let’s see what you got.”

Jeonghan’s eyes flashed back to you, then to your lips. “Ready when you are,” he mumbled, continuing to lean to you when–

“Director-nim!” a snappy voice called from below one end of the stage. You followed the sound of the voice. The young man was flashing Jeonghan an annoyed look.

“What?” Jeonghan responded, his tone dropping to one you rarely heard on him.

“Yoon Jeonghan! Stop flirting and come here!”

“This guy,” he said under his breath as he stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he told you as he approached the group where the young man was showing him a daring smile.

The phone you stuck between your thighs started vibrating, pulling you out of your focus. Joshua’s name displayed on the screen, along with a photo of him that you took on one of your dates.

“Hi, handsome,” you responded to his call, a smile spreading on your face almost at once.

“Hi, beautiful,” his sweet voice came to your ear a second after. “I just landed.”

“How was your flight? You sound tired,” you noted.

“I didn’t get much sleep on the flight. But we’re on the way to the hotel and hopefully I can sleep before I begin with the promotional activities,” his tone dropped slightly, then he paused pensively before: “I can’t wait till I’m back home. I miss you already.”

A spasm in your chest made you choke out. “I miss you too, babe,” you replied, sneaking a look to Jeonghan walking back to you.

“I’ll call you when I’m at the hotel,” Joshua said. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” you mumbled. “Love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Jeonghan sat down beside you again, a knowing look on his face as he motioned a question with one movement of his head. “Everything okay?”

You tucked your phone between your thighs again. “Yeah. Everything’s okay. Josh just landed,” you sighed and looked back at him. “You?”

Jeonghan nodded when he saw your assurance. “These brats were trying to grab my attention,” he said with a hint of annoyance, which was quickly replaced with a cheeky smile. “They want to know who you are.”

“Oh, are they your friends?” you asked, sending a quick glance to the small group of performers gathered to one side of the stage. You caught the eye of one of the men. And you recognized him right away.

Jeonghan leaned back on the seat, crossing one leg as he nodded. “My friends first. Then I tried to get them into castings, and when I got my company settled they were there every step of the way.”

“They seem… fun,” you frowned, paying attention to the commotion that was starting to take place in the small group of Jeonghan’s friends. “I know one of them.”

“Who, Seokmin?” he guessed right away.

“Yeah, he was–,”

“Joshua’s flatmate, yeah. I introduced them,” he smirked.

“And you think it’s okay to introduce them to me like this?” you asked sheepishly.

“Well, we don’t have to give any explanation,” he shrugged. “But I do see how this could be uncomfortable for you.”

“I just don’t want people close to Joshua to think that I’m cheating on him,” you whispered, dropping your gaze to your hands.

Jeonghan stilled. “Yeah, I didn’t think of that,” he sighed with a hint of disappointment. “Maybe we could do this another way.”

Your heart deflated at once. “I still want to meet them.”

He pondered about it for a second. “I don’t want people to think you cheated on Joshua either,” he agreed, pursing his lips. “Tell you what, let’s wait for another opportunity. With a lot more privacy.”

You looked around the theatre room, catching several pairs of curious eyes on both you and Jeonghan. “Yeah, you’re right.”

After being with him all day in what truly felt like a regular day you would spend with a partner, Jeonghan took you to dinner with him, and went for a stroll, talking about everything and nothing while holding hands.

It had been a nice time, but more pressing matters distracted you: work. You needed to work since the last few days your focus was on enjoying Joshua’s last days at home.

“Are you… staying the night?” you asked as the car turned down the street you lived in.

Jeonghan had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was clasped with yours. “No, baby, not tonight,” he decided after two long seconds.

“Can I ask why?” you asked with caution.

“I have to do some work early tomorrow. Plus, I don’t have clothes, or a toothbrush,” he replied with a shrug.

You looked at your hands laced together. “You can bring some of your things, so you can stay someday… if you want.”

You hated how tiny and vulnerable you sounded. But you did not want to spend the night alone.

But Jeonghan did not notice, his focus was on pulling to the curb right in front of your building. “I’ll bring some in, baby,” he replied aloofly.

“Okay,” you replied begrudgingly.

But you did not make a motion to exit the car yet, your seatbelt was still put on, your hand still in his. Jeonghan smiled, noticing your reluctance. “Come here,” he breathed, leaning towards you, a pair of fingers slipping beneath your jaw to kiss your lips tenderly. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Hannie,” you replied with a sweet smile like his.    

Midnight Haze Rocks the World: New Album Breaks Streaming Records in 24 Hours

Read the headline on your monitor screen. A picture of the three members of Midnight Haze appeared on top of the article published that morning. It was the third day since Joshua left for his first tour with his band Midnight Haze. And as expected, the internet flooded with overwhelming love for their phenomenal skyrocketing to success.

As such, a lot of eyes were posed on Joshua. A deluge of articles and videos were coming out every day, about his personal life, about his artistic process to write his lyrics, and speculations about his lovers.

Joshua was right. There was a huge part of Midnight Haze’s following that suspected he had a partner. And there was an even larger part that suspected that he was no more than a womanizer.

To some extent, it was painful to read some of the things you found online. And as much as you wanted to avoid it, you could not. So you did what you knew best: bury yourself in work.

Midnight Haze Sold-Out World Tour Breaks Box Office Records

It had been ten days since Joshua left.

His texts came less often. Same as his phone calls. Whenever he did call or text, he said he was busy, stressed. But he was trying to keep in touch with you. And that was all that mattered.

Midnight Haze’s Joshua Hong and Mysterious Woman Spark Romance Rumors at Exclusive Event

It was fourteen days since Joshua left. It was becoming more difficult to ignore the headlines and rumours created around him to draw in attention from the public and his fans. Although he seemed more consumed by the fast-paced nature of his job, he still called everyday.

Deciding you had your fill of nonsense you found online, you rested your head in your arm, sighing deeply in exhaustion.

“Baby, wake up,” Jeonghan’s soothing voice pulled you from your dreams.

You lifted your head abruptly, drawing in a breath. “I’m up,” you blurted sluggishly. “What’s up?”

Jeonghan giggled as you rubbed your eyes. You were in your studio, sitting on your armchair. There was drool smeared on your cheek, as you came to find out when you rubbed your face.

“You fell asleep,” Jeonghan pointed, giving you a kind smile. “Let’s go to bed.”

“When did you get here?” you slurred out. The room had darkened, the only source of light coming from your double monitor idle screens.

“Just got here,” he said, and you had started to notice the hint of concern in his voice. “Go to bed, so you can sleep better.”

You turned to your screen to look at the time. You had been asleep like this for nearly four hours. “Oh no,” you gasped. “I slept for too long. I must keep working.”

“Why?” he asked slowly. “You’re clearly tired, baby. Sleep some more and come back when you feel more refreshed.”

“Mmn,” you pondered his request for a second. You ran your sleeve over the tiny puddle of drool on your desk and looked at him.

Jeonghan was standing beside you, looking at you as if you were a baby in your crib. “You missed here,” he whispered, bringing the tip of his finger to the corner of your lips.

You slapped your hand to your lips, wiping the drool that was there.

He giggled. “Come on, princess, let’s go to bed,” he egged, motioning to the door to the bedroom.

You shook your head. “I want tea,” you pushed yourself from the chair.

“Tsk,” he sighed heavily, but he followed you down the hall, nonetheless.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you mumbled groggily, knowing what was coming.

“You’re overworking yourself again, Princess,” he reprimanded.

“Here we go,” you said in a sing-song tone.

“Just rest for a day!” he suggested with earnest. “You’ll feel better, and probably will get more work done.”

“I can’t rest, the deadline to submitting the first draft is nearer,” you protested as you got to the kitchen, getting to the electric kettle, filling it with water and turning it on. “And I’m nowhere near done this draft.”

“There is nothing wrong with taking a break for one day,” Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, his brown eyes following you. “Just take a break for once.”

You locked eyes with him, now considering his request.

“For me,” he added, the corners of his lips tightening, trying not to break into a smile.

“Pfft,” you scoffed loudly when he finally gave in, laughing merrily at his own cheesy addition. “See, I was considering it, until you said that,” you pointed.

“Please?” he said, bringing a halt to his laughs and his features took on a more serious look. “Just for tonight.”

“Okay. Just for tonight,” you conceded, heart fluttering uneasily when he smiled in victory. “Tea?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Sure,” he muttered, nodding with his head once. He had crossed his arms on his chest, his eyes trained on you as you moved in the kitchen. “Did you stay up writing last night?” he pried.

“And the night before that,” you sighed, handing him a mug of tea with milk. “It’s just not going well.”

“Can I ask why?” he leaned back on the kitchen counter.

“It’s just a writer’s block,” you shrugged, but both of you knew that was not true.

“What is the problem?” he asked again, his tone was gentle, it gave you that cozy sense of familiarity he never failed to give you.

“I just can’t…” you started faintly, toying with the teaspoon. “I’m out of ideas. I planned the whole book, the whole trilogy, but I just can’t string them together. I’m paying too much attention to tiny details, and I can’t get my creativity flowing.”

Jeonghan pursed his lips. “It seems like you have the problem narrowed down.”

“Yeah,” you said dejectedly. “I just can’t solve it.”

“Well, stepping back can help,” he shrugged, flashing you a knowing look. “Maybe you need to… reframe your initial ideas.”

It was reasonable that Jeonghan had experience with this. His line of work is very similar to yours, in some way. Even if he did not always write the plays he directs, he knew what a creative block was.

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, humming pensively as you tried to retrieve your answer. “I wanted this book to be like a bridge gapping the first and the third book but, now it just feels like I’ve written myself into a corner.”

“Don’t say that,” he protested, leaving his mug aside. “I get that you’re stressed and the deadline and all that,” a hand reached out to grab yours, gently pulling you towards him. “But you’re talented and smart enough to get out of any corner you find yourself in.”

His arm circled on your lower back, and your hand fell on his chest. It brought a smile to your face to hear his words. “Thank you, Jeonghan,” you said. “You’re right. I just focused on the smallest details, now I feel jaded.”

He nodded in understanding. “I know how that feels,” he said, his kind voice lowering a little. “Listen, why don’t we just relax for now? Continue tomorrow, take it one step at a time, see where that gets you.”

You nodded, sighing deeply. “Alright.”

Jeonghan smiled cutely at you, making tiny dimples appear on his chin. “You got this, baby,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, Jeonghan,” you whispered, meekly pushing yourself on your tiptoes to reach his lips with a kiss.

“Don’t thank me,” he breathed, his other hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling with your hair. He slotted his lips between yours, and you tasted the sweetness of green tea mixed with sugar in his kiss.

“Mmn,” your hands found his face. Jeonghan’s kisses were always tender, and delicate. Almost as if kissing the petals of a rose. Even during make-out sessions, just as this moment was turning into, he kept his lips gentle on yours.

But he pulled away too quickly, sucking in a breath between his teeth. Dropping his head back, he stared at the ceiling. Jeonghan had been doing this for the past few days: stopping himself before the kissing went too far.

“What’s wrong?” you mumbled.

He shook his head silently, and then he lowered his eyes to meet yours. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested, taking your hand again.

“Okay,” you whispered, a coy smile appearing on your face.

“Knock it off,” he snapped, but he started smiling too.

“I didn’t do anything!” you giggled as he took you to the bedroom. “What’s with that serious face? I thought you were onto something.”

“Careful, princess,” he cautioned, but you heard the hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Or what?” you smirked as you sat down on your bed and kept your eyes on him as he emptied the pockets of his black sweats on the nightstand. His phone, the keys to his car and apartment, and a green vape pen.

“Or nothing,” he huffed, motioning at the bed. “Are you going to lie down?”

“Yeah, I just…” you saw him lie down on the mattress; legs spread wide open. You sighed.  “I’ll change into pjs,” you announced, a smirk painted on your face as you rose to your feet, stripping your cozy pullover with one movement and then your pants.

“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue and reached for his vape pen, tucking it between his rosy lips. Even as you turned your back to him, you knew his eyes were on your semi-naked body. You sent him a glance to confirm your suspicions were true and smiled.

“Don’t smoke in my bedroom,” you chastised him, but your tone was made insecure by his eyes staring at you.

“I’m not smoking,” he mumbled faintly, and his statement was true. He had not drawn from his vape pen yet, but he kept it tucked between his lips.

You finished smoothing Joshua’s oversized t-shirt over your frame and walked to the bed. Jeonghan watched you crawl to where he occupied the mattress, which was your side of the bed.

“What does it taste like?” you wondered, tilting your head in curiosity.

Jeonghan said nothing, he just handed you his vape pen, matching your curiosity with his eyes. And you took it, you tried to mimic his movements you always saw him do by tucking the tip between your lips. A faint smirk appeared on his face when you sent him a glance and sucked in a breath from the vape pen.

You started coughing at once. The light smoke invaded your throat and coating it with an overly sweet taste, making it impossible to get an actual experience of what Jeonghan was so addicted to. He chuckled as your coughing died.

“It’s slowly, baby,” he instructed, taking the vape pen from your hand gently and motioned your eyes to him. “Like taking a small sip from a straw.”

He took a draw from the vape pen slowly, his throat bobbing as he seemingly swallowed the smoke, and then exhaled it through his mouth and nose.

“Try it.”

You sent him a reluctant look, but took the pen to your mouth, nonetheless. Slowly, you sucked in a breath once again, getting a taste of the green apple flavor that reminded you of Jeonghan. Then you quickly blew the light smoke with your lips.

“That was disappointing,” you mumbled. 

“What did you expect?” he chuckled.

“This is what you’re so addicted to?” you raised your eyebrows, giving the pen back to him.

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “I was that or tobacco. And I just need to keep my hands and mouth busy. This helps,” he signaled to the vape pen.

“Hands and mouth busy, eh?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he hissed, but a wide smile took over the features of his face.

“Make me,” you whispered, zeroing your eyes on him in a tantalizing way.

Jeonghan paused, the only sign that he was not expecting you say that was a single twitch of an eyebrow. He took a long draw, an even longer one, that went on for seconds, filling his chest out with smoke.

“Come here,” he said, not letting go of even a ghost of smoke through his lips. He extended one arm, his hand cupping your cheek, holding your face inches away from his. “Open your mouth.”

You instinctively parted your lips, just as he exhaled the smoke he had been holding in his chest, pouring it into your mouth. It felt cold, it tasted like green apples, it filled your senses with the taste of him as you exhaled.

Jeonghan sealed your lips with a kiss so soft it had you asking for more. You moaned, a hand coming to hold his face to help you kiss him harder, enticingly. “Princess,” he grunted through your continued attacks with your lips. “You need to rest.”

You pulled away from his lips, looking at him in utter disbelief. “Okay,” you frowned.

Rejected, you lied down on the opposite side of the bed to Jeonghan, turning over so your back was to him. Your heart deflated with pangs of pain at each beat, your mind riddled with questions as to why he was keeping you at arm’s length.

You jolted in surprise when Jeonghan’s arm encircled your waist, nuzzling his face in your hair. Just as he did the last time he slept in your bed.

“Are we just cuddling?” you sulked.

“Yep. Just cuddling,” he mumbled, scooting his body to yours so he could perfectly spoon you.

“Why?” you whispered, closing your eyes to push down the tears trying to sting them. You felt ridiculous.

“You need to rest,” he repeated with a calming tone.

“Jeonghan,” you turned over to see his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

He frowned. “No,” he shook his head. “Why do you say that?”

“You haven’t been… as physical as usual,” you mumbled out with caution. “I’m beginning to think that I’m doing something wrong.”

Jeonghan blinked, an alarmed look settling in the features of his face. “I just wanted to take my time with you,” he said, gentleness coating his words. Once he saw your features relax, he continued: “We started with the wrong foot. I wanted you to get to know me outside of the sexual aspect, you know?”

“But I do know you outside of the sexual aspect,” you blurted. “You’re my best friend.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished to take them back. 

“That’s not…” Jeonghan sighed with a frustrated air. “When you mentioned the steps to a relationship, I thought we could take it slow, and let you know me intimately.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, yanking your gaze from his face.

“No, I’m sorry,” he replied in the same fashion. “I never wanted to make you feel rejected.”

You noticed for the first time, how struggling it was for him to speak out his inner thoughts. He was an excellent communicator sometimes, but it was different when it came to his feelings.

“It’s okay,” you reassured, now enclosing the space between you on the bed, so you could entangle your body with his. “But I’m confused. I do know you intimately.”

He shook his head lightly. “You mean as your friend,” he said wearily. “I mean as a boyfriend.”

Your heart stopped, and the moment between you too. In all the past few weeks you have been with Jeonghan, in all the considerations you were trying to bring into the relationship, you somehow thought that was a given.

“Wait,” he blurted, closed his eyes tightly and then: “I want to ask you formally.”

You blinked at him, a smile slowly curving your lips. “It’s okay,” you repeated. “I’d like that, Jeongjeong.”

“You would?” he smirked. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve done serious relationships. And I’m old. So, I don’t know what’s in anymore.”

“You’re not old,” you said slowly. “And I don’t know what’s in either, so… Chances are that whatever you have in mind is something I like.”

“Okay,” he sighed, looking more relaxed, but then he pressed his lips into a tight line. “Just so you know, it was never within my intentions to make you feel like I don’t want you.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured with a light smile. “It was just confusing to me why you didn’t want to be physical anymore.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle. “Princess, believe me, there’s nothing more I want right now,” he rolled his eyes in shame. “Especially when you undress yourself in front of me, doing those sounds when I kiss you.”

You had to laugh at his face in complete frustration. “Well, if you had said something about it, I wouldn’t have teased you so much,” you pouted.

“Ah, really?” he snickered. “Really, princess? I don’t believe that for a second,” he emphasized.

“Why, don’t I get the benefit of the doubt?”

“Not when you’re both mine and Joshua’s partner, mm-mmn,” he negated with his head on the pillow.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, though pointlessly. 

“You’re a tease,” he said with an obvious tone. “You know what will work on me because it works on him.”  

“Mmph,” you hummed thoughtfully. “You know I don’t see it like that.”

But it did sound familiar to something Joshua said a couple of months ago. It was something that you had started to find very real: Jeonghan and Joshua were so similar to the point it could be eerie. And it did not seem impressive to Joshua that Jeonghan would find you attractive, because he also did.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he said after taking a look at your face.

“Okay,” you conceded, turning over again to be cuddled by his body.

Some moments later, you could still hear him breathing normally. His movements were kept at minimum, but you knew he was still awake. He shifted slightly behind you, you heard the rustle of the bedsheets, when he moved his head on your pillow.

You just closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep but his body behind you was too distracting, your feet bumped into his, the warmth pooling inside your tummy making you smile.

Jeonghan shifted again on the bed, encircling his arm around your waist languidly, now his body fully pressed against yours. You could understand the reason why he struggled to find a position to rest with your body close to his.

“Are you okay?” you breathed.

He blinked, darting a look to your face. “Yeah, I’m just…” he sighed, smiling shyly at you. “You’re very warm.”

“You don’t like it?” you frowned. “We don’t have to cuddle, we could–,”

“I do like it,” he cut in. “That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” you mumbled, giggling softly at his indecision.

When you went to bed, you had forgotten to close the blinds completely, a faint light coming from the windows painted his face in a pale white color. You could see his eyes properly as he contemplated his answer.

“I don’t think I can wait much longer,” he mumbled, laughing sheepishly at his own demise. “I thought I could, but I guess I’m not so strong when it comes to you.”

Jeonghan had his arm folded and tucked under his head, so that way his eyes lowered to find your face as you turned over, your back pressed against the mattress.

“Well, you’ve been edging me and yourself for nearly two weeks now,” you said, smiling at him as he laughed harder. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I want to be a good boyfriend to you,” he pursed his lip into a pout. But his hand parked on your tummy over your t-shirt.

Your heart stammered in your chest frantically, making your blood rush to your face. “You are a good boyfriend, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, flashing him a cheeky smile. “You can be a good boyfriend and have sex with me.”  

“I–,” he broke into an airy laugh, squeezing his eyes in utter shyness. “Don’t tempt me, princess. You’re tired and haven’t slept well.”

“Mmn, okay,” you said, but you could see it in his eyes: Jeonghan wanted you. His rosy lips parted slightly, his heavy-lidded eyes reading your face. “Come here, baby,” you whispered, sneaking a hand on his nape to pull him to your face.

Jeonghan reciprocated the need of your lips without skipping a second. The strangled sound that coiled in his throat only egged you on, your hands slid from his nape to graze his scalp with the tips of your fingers.

“Call me that again,” he breathed gruffly into your mouth as he repositioned his body on top of yours.

You paused, looking at his face that was now hovering on top of yours. “Baby,” you hummed, an ecstatic shudder shaking you when he saw the fascination flash in his eyes. “Kiss me… please.”

Jeonghan leaned down but stopped before he could reach your lips, a smile broke the features of his face. “You’re going to be the death of me. You know that, right?”

The tip of his nose bumped with yours playfully taunting you before he slotted his pretty lips with yours. You felt the weight of the pillows shifting when he placed his forearms on the sides of your head, caging you in. Blindly, you parted your legs for him just as he slotted himself between them.

He kept kissing you, he never stopped. The softness to which he was kissing you made you drunk, wanting more. “Hannie…” you whispered, turning your head as his lips kissed the apple of your cheek, trailing down to the line of your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled faintly, his breath fanning a spot below your earlobe.

You recounted in your head every sexual experience you have had with Jeonghan so far. Narrowing down what had made you so dissatisfied the last time you had sex with him was easy: there was a lack of connection with him. One that you craved deeply.

“I want you–,” you gasped when his lips reached your collarbone, as he pushed back his body, his hands retreated from your sides, finding the hem of your oversized t-shirt. His hands were cold upon sliding on your tummy. “I don’t care how, just do anything you like.”

A flash of déjà vu hit you hard. Jeonghan lifted his head from the curve of your neck, his long dark hair obscuring his eyes. “Anything?” he asked, tilting his head to one side slowly. “There must be something you need, princess.”

“I don’t know,” you smiled at him sheepishly.

Jeonghan leaned forward, his fingers trapping your chin. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he purred right before capturing your lips with his for a shallow kiss. “You call the shots, baby.”

Your breath hitched; his hand came to cup your cheek. “Keep going, please,” you muttered, though it was not necessary, his lips were still on yours, giving you soft pecks.

Jeonghan gave you no verbal reply, but he kept kissing you anyway, each kiss tenderer than the one before. It made you dizzy, the softness that he put with every touch.

“Jeonghan,” you put a hand on the center of his chest, bringing a stop to his sweet kisses at once. His dark eyes locked with yours, giving you the confidence you needed. “Can you be rough with me?”

Upon hearing your request, he stilled completely. “How rough?” he asked, much as if he did not give a second thought to your words, nor pause to ask why. He knew this was what you needed.  

“Just do it,” you asked, your tone waning over the nervousness that kicked right in. “I promise I won’t break.”

“I know you won’t,” he smirked, diving for another shallow kiss, laughing softly at the low grunt you gave him in protest.

Then he kissed you again. Harder this time, showing you how much he had been holding back. Before his touch had been delicate and tender. But now, his kiss was forceful, passionate. He crushed your lips, making you muffle out a moan in his hot mouth. 

“Want me to fuck your brains out, baby?” he rasped, backing away to take a look at your face. The lascivious glint in his eyes was unmistakable, and so eerily familiar.

“Yes, please,” you mewled, your hands snaked from his chest to clutch at his neck.

Jeonghan sighed in your mouth. “You needy little thing. You really are made for us.”

“I am,” you replied in a frenzy, returning each needy kiss he planted in your mouth.

A hand pushed your t-shirt up to your chest, uncovering your tits to him. “Do you know how fucking much I love these?” he rasped, sending you a look before dipping his head to litter your skin with kisses.

His lips attached to one of your nipples, his tongue toying with your pebbled bud, to then suckle at it with a smacking noise. “Fuck-k, baby,” you mewled, your fingers tangling with his long dark hair, giving it a soft tug.

“Mmn,” he searched for one of your hands on his head, grabbing it and driving it to the mattress. No touching, he wordlessly commanded, locking his fingers with yours.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “God, fuck,” you squirmed helplessly, the back of his tongue teased your nipple, swirling around it and suckling at it hungrily.

His free hand fumbled your other breast, his fingers pinching and tugging your hardened nipple as his mouth continued to work on the other, making it sensitive. He detached his mouth with a wet sound, his eyes marvelled at your body for a second as he released your hand.

“Behave,” he conditioned before leaning down again to tease your other nipple with his mouth.

First his lips tugged at it, to then graze at it with his teeth, making a sharp hiss come out from you. You lowered your gaze, finding his. Jeonghan smiled at you, pulling his tongue out to tease your nipple, swirling around it.

You sighed out the pleasure burning within you, sinking in the pillows as your skin prickled. “Please… more,” you mewled, your hands clawing on the bedsheets. “Keep going, Hannie, please.”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, but the motion of his tipped tongue did not stop. His hands cupped your tits, making them bulge, and he lowered his face onto your chest. The low grunt that he muffled in your tits told you that he was enjoying sucking at your nipples just as much as you.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure building in the pit of your tummy, your muscles clenched in response when he sucked harsher, then changed to toy with your nipple with swift motions.

“Ha-hannie,” you called shakily. “I think I’m gonna come.”

For a moment, you thought Jeonghan had not heard you. He made no move, no sound to acknowledge your words. He just kept going: sucking, licking, pinching your sensitive nipples. Drool dripped down on your bumpy skin, the wet sounds Jeonghan made, paired with the low groans he gave you whenever you moaned. 

“Oh god… I’m coming,” you choked out, hands clenching around the bedsheets. Your orgasm flooded within you, it was quick and sweet, and even though the feeling was short, it had you panting. And wanting more.

Jeonghan hummed with satisfaction, leaving a kiss on each of your nipples before meeting your eyes. “Was that a first?”

You recognized where his game was going at once. “Yeah,” you sighed with a meek smile. “It felt good. I needed that.”

“Mn, princess, you’re such a needy mess,” he said gruffly, his hand caressing your bumpy skin over your tummy. “Is that why you can’t write, baby? Too much in your head?”

“Think so,” you replied coyly.

Jeonghan sat back on his heels, contemplating you for a second under the pale light coming from the window. “These need to come off,” he toyed with the band of your wet panties with his lithe fingers.

He hooked his fingers around the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs with your help, lifting your hips for him.

“No, not that. Keep that on,” he instructed when he caught sight of your hands trying to get rid of your t-shirt.

Then he stretched one arm, reaching for something on the nightstand. Your heart stammered when he grabbed his phone. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, sending you a glance.

“Yeah,” you replied.

The flash of the camera hit your eyes, making you squint at it. But you quickly adapted, seeing Jeonghan’s fascinated face behind his phone as he directed it to your naked body. He caught on video everything he liked to see: your face, your tits smeared in his spit, and your pussy.

“You got so wet, baby,” he mumbled, making a trail with the tips of his fingers from your bellybutton to your mound, caressing it. “Baby needs to be fucked everyday, or she can’t function properly. Right, princess?”

The white light returned to your face, you nodded. “J-jeonghan!”

His fingers continued trailing down, finding your pussy lips spread open. “So fucking wet,” he sighed in awe, dipping one finger in your pooling entrance. “You got like this just by playing with your tits a little…”

Another finger joined in, pushing inside your throbbing walls as the phone captured it in video.

“Jeonghan,” you protested. “Please, just fuck me.”

“Stay still, baby,” his voice was low whenever he gave you a command, and that way you knew not to challenge him again. “I’ll give you what you want if you promise to be good.”

You sighed in frustration. “I promise,” you hated the way your voice sounded.

That seemed to please him. The flash of the camera went off, Jeonghan tossed his phone on the bed near your body, pulling his fingers out of your pussy.

The loss of stimulation had you protesting with a lewd whine. “So impatient,” he tutted. Then he nodded his head at you. “Knees up.”  

His hand pushed on the back of your leg, making your chest compress a little right before he dipped his head to your needy pussy, his tongue swiping a line between your folds. Your muscles tightened under the overwhelming sensation of his tongue licking your arousal, drinking you in.

“Fuck,” you gritted, your hands flew to grab your own legs to keep yourself in place for him.

You heard a muffled laugh, his breath fanning your wet pussy causing you to shiver. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit as his tongue sank inside you, then retreated, only to dive in again, his face pressed flush against you, fucking you with his tongue.

A strangled gasp escaped you, his tongue left your pussy and was quickly replaced by his fingers, slipping them in until he was knuckle deep inside you. But his tongue slid to your clit, teasing it with swift jabs, getting it to swell by teasing it with his lips, tugging and suckling at it.

“Oh, g-god,” your body shook on the bed sheets, your eyes squeezed shut so tight you started to see colors.

The low hum he gave you was paired with one deep intake of breath on his part, breathing you in practically, his mouth unrelenting on your pussy. His fingers kept dragging inside and out of your throbbing walls, delighting himself with moans each time you clenched around him.

“Fuck, Hannie,” you mewled, pushing your head back onto your pillow. “Don’t stop, baby, please…”

Jeonghan pushed his face onto your cunt harder, groaning against you as his fingers thrusted inside you harshly, curving inside your walls and finding that spot effortlessly. Your mouth fell open, pelvis tilting towards his face. All focus, was narrowed to his mouth making out with your pussy, his fingers teasing that spot inside your walls.

“I’m there,” you sighed out. “Jeonghan, I’m coming,” you let out a long cry of pleasure, body shaking on your bed.

Your orgasm washed down your spine, burning inside you. His fingers kept thrusting inside you, his mouth helping you ride your high without stopping for a second to breathe. Just as you were coming down, he detached his mouth from your throbbing pussy, but his fingers did not.

“Jeonghan?” you panted.

His fingers kept teasing that spot inside you, the force from his hand on your cunt had started to make a single vein pop out along his forearm. “Can you give me one more, baby?” he asked, his free hand reaching for the phone he had discarded earlier.

“I… yeah,” you decided, holding your legs to your chest with your hands.

The camera flashed your eyes again. “Good girl,” he whispered, capturing the mess that you were in. It occurred to you that Jeonghan did not want you to remove the t-shirt you were wearing… he wanted to fuck you in it for Joshua to see.

He pointed the camera at his hand pumping in and out of your puffy cunt, the wet sounds coming from it sounded loud and almost dirty. His fingers picked up the pace, now teasing relentlessly inside you, making you gasp and jolt at each harsh jab.

“J-jeonghan!” you cried out.

“Careful, we can’t make too much noise, remember?” he smirked at you.

“I-if you keep going, I’m gonna… I’m gonna–,” you choked out, arching your back on the mattress as the hot liquid spurting from you landed onto his hand and the bed.

Jeonghan smiled, his fascinated eyes flitting from the screen of the phone capturing the mess you were making, to your body writhing on the wet sheets. “Tsk, messy girl,” you heard him say between the loud wet noises and your own breathless moans.

To see him smile sent you onto another wild frenzy. You moaned as his fingers left your throbbing pussy, his other hand tossing his phone heedlessly. Then, Jeonghan grabbed his t-shirt, peeling it off his torso with one swift motion.

“Remind me to put a towel under you next time,” he smirked, using his own t-shirt to wipe your arousal and his own spit from his chin, then his hands.

You sighed, embarrassment heating your face, but you could not deny that you liked this. And Jeonghan saw right through you. He leaned over to you, capturing your lips in a kiss, he smelled of you, and you could taste yourself in his mouth. The act was so dirty it had him swallowing your moans, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Jeonghan… I want you to fuck me, please,” you whined when he pulled his head back.

“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked, his voice was low and slightly raspy.

“Yeah?” you smiled coyly.

“Why shouldn’t I edge you a little bit more?” he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist, as he pressed his chest against yours, grinding his hips against yours.

The bulge of his hard cock pressed against your cunt. “Jeonghan,” you gasped when he ground against you harder, teasing you. “You’ve been edging me for days now.”

“You said I could do anything I wanted to you,” he smirked, his hand grabbing your jaw before pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “

“But I want you now,” you mumbled wantonly.

“Don’t argue with me,” he retorted, the glint in his eyes giving away the playfulness behind his actions.

“Stop teasing me, Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands holding onto his back as he kept rubbing his hard dick against you, smearing your wetness all over his boxers. “Please, I need you, baby,” you whined pathetically.

He dived for another hungry kiss. “God, you’re so fucking needy,” he protested, but his tone made him sound just as pathetic.

“Don’t mock me, Jeonghan,” you bit back. You should not have done that.

The slap came to your face in the blink of an eye, it was swift and painful, but the wave of both excitement and arousal barreled down your spine, making you gasp. Your widened eyes found his face, gaping at him as your cheek tingled.

“I told you not to argue with me,” Jeonghan laughed, and the sound of his laughter sent a wave of shame that burned in your face.  

A low moan escaped you when his hard cock rubbed against your swollen clit. “Jeonghan, please fuck me. Fuck me now,” you pleaded with a whiny tone, ignoring how pathetic you sounded, or felt.  

“That’s it, baby. Beg for me,” he purred, nibbling at your lower lip right before kissing you. His tongue caressed the roof of your mouth, making you whimper at the sensation.

Then you understood what he was doing, he pushed his boxers down, freeing his pretty cock. He grabbed it with one hand, one thumb pressing down his tip, directing it to your pussy. And just when you thought he was finally going to fuck you, he decided to do something else.

“I don’t hear you begging,” he said, fucking his cock between your pussy lips, making his tone waver. A low grunt escaped his lips, and you responded with your own.

“Please,” you breathed.

“Please, what.”

“Fuck me,” you mumbled, regretting the minute you asked him to be mean with you. But you could not lie to yourself, you liked this. You liked seeing his cock glistening wet with your arousal.

“I am fucking you,” he chuckled airily, pushing his hips against you so his tip nudged your entrance, but slipped between your folds.

“I need you inside me, Jeonghan,” you whimpered as his shaft rubbed against your clit. “N-need your cock inside me, please.”

“That’s better,” he sighed, retracting his hips to then sheathe himself inside you with one full thrust. He lowered the upper half of his body to yours, repositioning his arms above your head.

“F-fuck, Jeonghan…” you gritted as his cock filled your walls. You sighed in pleasure, finding his face with your hands to pull him in a kiss.

You saw something flash across the features of his face, making him groan as his lips met yours. “God,” he gasped. “I love how you squeeze around me, baby.”

“Y-yeah?” you breathed pathetically.

“Mmn, yeah. Your pretty little c-cunt feels like magic,” he shuddered in pleasure, grunting in your mouth before kissing you again.

“It’s yours, Hannie,” you replied dazedly.

“I know,” he grinned, his hand finding the back of your knee, pushing it to your side to hold you open for him. “You’re such a needy slut for us, right?”

A wave of arousal tore through you. “Yes,” you breathed. “I am.”

Jeonghan noticed your demeanor, your eyes glazing and mouth parting in utter pleasure. “Wait,” he stilled. “Turn over for me, baby,” Jeonghan pulled his body, sitting back on his heels as you reluctantly turned facedown on the bed. “Ass up.”

Then on your side, Jeonghan handed you his phone, the front camera was already recording. You grabbed it and searched for somewhere to place it, deciding for to put it against the lamp on your bedside table. You saw yourself on the screen and Jeonghan on his knees behind you.

Through the screen you saw Jeonghan sneaking a hand between your body and his, then felt the tip of his cock searching for your entrance. A strangled moan came out of you as he sheathed himself in, a hand pushing your lower back down for you to tilt your pelvis for him.

“God,” he groaned, his head lolling back, grabbing your hips with his hands as he fucked you slowly.

You were too entranced by watching his face through the recording to focus on his cock massaging your walls.

“You feel so fucking good, princess,” he swallowed a moan, making his throat bob. 

“Y-you too, Hannie,” you responded faintly, lowering your face back onto the bed covers to see him through the screen of his phone.

“No, no. I want Joshua to see your face,” Jeonghan rasped, grabbing you by the hair, pulling your head upward with little to no heed for you.

The sheer thought of Joshua seeing this made you clench around Jeonghan’s cock. He moaned in response too, his fingers digging into your skin, squeezing your ass firmly as his other hand kept pulling your hair.

“Jeonghan,” you called breathily, the hard thrusting had you panting already. The rails of your bed banged against the wall with the pacing of his thrusts. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

Jeonghan laughed, ignoring you completely. He pulled your hair firmly, making sure the camera captured your teary eyes. “Jeonghan, please.”

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, placing his hands on the middle of your spine, pushing your chest onto the mattress. “You asked for it.”

You could no longer see yourself on the video, your face was mushed against the covers, giving you space to cry out as Jeonghan started pounding on you. The brutal pace of his thrusts knocked the air out of you, the sound of skin slapping against each other was the only thing you could hear above your muffled cries.

“Jeonghan!” you forced out, your sweet release flooding inside your body. “Oh, god, Hannie…”

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “God. Keep squeezing me like that,” his hands clenched on your ass, switching the motion to his hands, fucking you on his cock instead of moving his hips. “Fuck,” he gritted with a sigh. “Yeah, just like that…”

You gathered yourself, breathing in slowly as you lifted your head. In the screen of his phone, you saw him looking at your body, moving your hips to meet with his languidly.

“Hand me the phone, baby,” he made a motion with his head.

You reached for his phone in your nightstand and passed it to him, turning your head to see what he was doing. He was now pointing the camera lens to your ass, and you knew that he was capturing your messy cunt, filled with his cum as he kept pushing his cock inside you.

He was panting when he tossed the phone one final time. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly. “Want more?”

You shook your head. “I’m sensitive,” you admitted. And you were so tired that all you wanted now was to rest in the pleasure he had given you.

Jeonghan nodded, caressing your ass gently before pulling out of you. “Lie down, baby,” he muttered as you just eased onto the bed with a tired sigh. “I’ll bring you something to clean up, hold on.”

The bed shifted around you when he climbed off the bed and exited the bedroom. You closed your eyes, breathing out in pure bliss, enjoying how languid your body was after being pleasured over and over.

You heard him come in. “Turn over for me, princess,” he mumbled with a sweet voice. He had a towel in his hand, soaked in warm water. “What do you need?”

“Sleep,” you slurred out. 

Jeonghan nodded. “Do you have clean blankets?”

“In the closet,” you said, pointing to the double doors in the bedroom.

Jeonghan got a bundle of blankets, spreading them over your naked body to then slip beneath them and next to you. As you searched for his body to hold him, you realized that he had not slept naked with you before.

“Thank you, Jeonghan,” you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“For what, baby?”

“For taking care of me,” you mumbled, your heart swelling with warmth and love. “And for fucking my brains out.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his hand brushing your hair slowly. “Anything for you.” 

“Do you think we’ll get another noise complaint after this?” you asked sluggishly.

“If they come to the door, I’ll deal with it,” he said decidedly. “Sleep for now.”

You lifted your head to give him a kiss. “Goodnight, baby.”

Jeonghan gave you a sweet smile. “Goodnight, princess.”

“We have a date tonight,” Jeonghan announced the morning after.

“We do?” you asked. “You know, I’d appreciate it if you invite me out with more time in advance.”

“I forgot to tell you last night… you kept me busy,” Jeonghan rasped sleepily, his arm wrapped your back, his fingers trailing gently down your spine.

“So it’s my fault,” you laughed.

“We’ve talked about this,” he slurred out, but a lazy smile spread on his lips. “Everything is your fault.”

“Maybe last night was my fault,” you conceded playfully, lifting your head from his chest. “Where is the date?”

“Mmn, I don’t know, I have to ask,” he mumbled, his eyes were closed but you noticed his heavy lashes shaking slightly.

“Ask?” you inquired.

“It’s a double date,” he explained, peeling one eye open.

“Oh,” you gasped. “With whom?”

“My best friends,” he said with ease, but you knew how this important was to him.

“You have a lot of best friends, baby,” you chuckled.

“Mmn, yeah, you’re right,” he said, his voice was still lazy, but he had gained more lucidity. “These are friends I met in school, while I was getting my degree.”

“Exciting,” you smiled at the way the features of his face were lax in the serenity of his sleep.

“What?” he noticed, his lips pouting slightly as he asked: “What, why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like your face, handsome,” you mumbled sweetly, running the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose.

Jeonghan looked confused for a second. “I like your face too, beautiful,” he whispered.

The effect his words had on you made you freeze in place. You leaned to plant a small kiss on his lips, which he reciprocated with a low hum.

But then you were turning around, reaching for your phone on your bedside table to check if you had any updates from Joshua. He had replied to your last few texts, telling you excitingly that he had a date for you to visit him soon. And that he could not wait to see you again.

“That reminds me,” Jeonghan sighed, reaching for his own phone on the bedside of your side of the bed.

The videos. As soon as he unlocked his phone, the sounds from the night before flooded your ears: your whiny moans, the sounds of skin slapping together. Jeonghan wrapped one arm around your waist as you leaned your head on his shoulder and watched the videos you recorded together.

You hid your face flush on his shoulder when you saw a few seconds of one of the videos, making your insides twist in utter shame. “Oh god,” you groaned.

Jeonghan rested his hand on the back of your head. “What?” he asked, shifting his face to take a look at yours.

“It’s so…” you made a motion to the video playing on the screen, grimacing at the lewd sound of your moans.

“Hot?” Jeonghan lowered the phone after hitting Send with his thumb, sharing the videos to your boyfriend with nothing else to say in the message, no preamble whatsoever.

“Can I see?” you mumbled, extending your palm.

“Sure,” he deposited his phone in your hand without hesitation.

The videos were saved in a secret folder that he shared only with Joshua, you realized. “You were quick,” you said. He must have created the folder after recording he fucked you in a changing room.

“I don’t want them to fall on the wrong hands, princess,” he muttered, lazily drawing in a breath before yawning.

“Mmn,” you swiped your finger through the set of videos. You saw your face in so many of the frames captured. “Can I have access to this too?”

“Of course, baby,” he giggled sweetly. “I should’ve asked, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, aimlessly fidgeting with Jeonghan’s phone. You went back to the main folder where he kept all of the photos he took.

Jeonghan did not stop you, so you dived in the rows of snapped memories. Most of the photos were of himself with his friends, photos you helped him take, photos with you… Joshua.

The tip of your finger chose a photo, almost as if it had a mind of its own. “Where is this from?” you asked.

Jeonghan had chocolate brown hair in the photo, his head leaned on Joshua’s shoulder. The smile plastered on his face was sweet, two fingers in a peace sign held to the camera. Whereas Joshua had a pale bond hair, also smiling and holding a peace sign.

“That was… I think it was one of the first times I saw one of his shows,” he said, coughing a laugh. “He was a complete mess. He wasn’t the confident sexy rockstar you know now.”

“Mmph,” you smirked. “So you think he’s sexy?”

The restaurant was located on top of a hotel building. The tables were beautifully flanked by water gardens, lamps hanging from the open ceiling, illuminating everything with a warm orange glow.

“They’re usually late,” Jeonghan explained. But this was not said with his nonchalant and characteristic way. He anxiously looked around the tables with a pout on his face.

The air was damp, urging you to fan yourself with your hand in slow, lazy motions. Jeonghan wore a white shirt, unbuttoned all the way through, a white tank top underneath it. His long dark hair tucked behind his cute ears, he chewed on his lip.

“Are you nervous?”

His fleeting gaze fixed on your face. “A little,” he admitted, giving you a meek smile.

“Should I worry?” you raised your eyebrows.

“No, baby, not at all,” he slipped a hand under the table, finding your thigh to five it a squeeze.

“Okay,” you sighed, returning the smile he had given you.

Then you saw a familiar face, something helped by the fact that you had scrolled through Jeonghan’s photos on his phone. It was a friend of both Joshua and Jeonghan’s, but apparently so, Jeonghan had met this person long before Joshua did.

“They’re here,” he announced with a shaky mutter, standing up as the couple approached the table.

Then, with the nervousness that you had never seen in him before, he introduced you to his friends by name, sending you a glance. He probably saw the nervousness mirrored in your eyes, but somehow his confidence was restored upon mentioning that you are his girlfriend.

The man that was introduced to you as Choi Seungcheol blinked from your face to Jeonghan’s one time only. There was something exchanged there, but it was quite obvious that the man was not understanding this. The thought of this going badly set your nerves on fire.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” his girlfriend stepped in quickly, reading the situation too. 

“Baby, why don’t you go with Cheol’s girl to see the water gardens?” Jeonghan cut in, giving you a knowing look.

You paused before nodding with evident reluctance, stepping away from the table, leaving both men to have a moment alone.

“What the fuck?” Seungcheol whispered, looking around the tables to avoid dragging attention in. So he sat down.

Jeonghan returned to his seat too. “What?” he shrugged, pulling out his vape pen from his pocket.

“Why do you have the same girlfriend as Joshua?” as soon as the words left his mouth, Seungcheol grimaced.

“Because she is Joshua’s girlfriend,” Jeonghan replied with faux nonchalance, drawing a long stroke from his vape pen.

“Gimme that,” his friend gritted, yanking the vape pen from Jeonghan’s grip. “Jeonghan, I’m being serious,” he regained some control before asking: “Is she your girlfriend?”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, trying to keep his heartbeat steady. “Yes, she really is my girlfriend,” he replied. “We’re both dating her.”

Seungcheol blinked, looking at his girlfriend in the distance walking alongside you. You both are looking quite friendly with each other, laughing, and chatting. “So, when you told me that you found someone, you meant…”

Jeonghan hated this, he hated to be open and vulnerable about his feelings. But this was Seungcheol. Jeonghan could not hide from him, and he did not want to.  “We’re all in a relationship, us three… It’s complicated,” he choked up a little, rolling his eyes to the sky. “I love her.”

For a moment, both men were lost in thought.

“Are you happy?” Seungcheol asked.

“I am,” he forced out. That was a lie; Jeonghan was not fully happy. There were somethings he still needed to figure out with you, with Joshua. But in that evening, he felt happy.

“That’s all I need to know,” Seungcheol sighed, pushing his hair back with one hand.

“Good,” Jeonghan agreed. “Can I have that back?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, giving the vape pen back. “You know, you’ve always been really weird, you and Joshua.”

This made Jeonghan tilt his head to one side “Weird how?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I noticed it before but never said anything. When we get together, talking, or playing a game… something always made me think about it. It’s like you two share one mind. It’s creepy.”

“Pffft,” Jeonghan broke into a chuckle. “Alright.”

“What? You move at the same time, you finish each other’s sentences! It’s weird!” Seungcheol protested with a pout.

“Let’s order something to drink,” Jeonghan dismissed, raising one hand to motion for you to return to the table.

As soon as you sat down, you searched his face as he grabbed your hand again. You sent him a questioning look, subtly asking if everything was okay. Jeonghan laced his fingers with yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze with his hand.

And at that, the evening went on. Meeting his friends gave you another insight into his personality, and you were glad to find out that his friends were accepting of you. Soon, you felt a bit embarrassed for being so nervous before, as you realized that Seungcheol and his girlfriend were really understanding.

“Would you share a bottle of red wine with me?” you asked, reading the menu.

“I don’t know a thing about wines. But I trust you,” Jeonghan mumbled beside you. He chewed on his lip, absentmindedly mouthing the words his eyes were going over on the menu.

“You’re okay?” you asked discreetly beside him, darting a glance to the couple sitting across the table.

“Why do you ask?” he replied as quietly, shifting his gaze from the menu.

“You look worried,” you pointed, sending another swift glance. “Something happened?”

“Nah,” he discarded the idea at once. “I’m just thinking what to order, baby,” he said reassuringly, grabbing your hand to nibble at your knuckles with his lips.

“Let me order for you,” you offered, sweetening your voice involuntarily. “Something that goes with wine.”

His eyes triangulated to your own and your lips. “Alright, beautiful,” he smirked. “Impress me.”  

You gave him a badly coordinated wink. “I got you, handsome,” you said, laughing at yourself.

He shouldn’t lie to you, he reprimanded himself with a stab to his heart.

“Oh, shoot,” you muttered under your breath, getting your phone from your handbag. Jeonghan knew who it was before he even thought to glance at the screen. “I’ll be right back. Order, these,” you pointed with your finger at the menu, pressing the phone to your ear.

“O-okay,” he stuttered, watching you leave the table to take Joshua’s call.

Jeonghan hid his reaction behind the menu, but he knew Seungcheol was looking. The man was resting his chin on his hand, and Jeonghan wished that he just spoke what his eyes were trying to say. It would have been better that way, instead of suffering the weight of his dark gaze. 

But he ordered the bottle of wine and pasta that you pointed to before leaving.

The order arrived just as you were returning to your seat. Jeonghan made no question, no comment about Joshua’s call, like he usually did. But instead, he just grabbed your hand, giving it a comfortable squeeze before raising his wine glass and giving it a generous gulp.

Jeonghan made a face.

“What, you didn’t like it?” you asked, taking the glass of wine to your lips.

“It was just a big gulp,” he said with shame in his eyes.

“Small sippy sips,” you indicated, lifting a finger in a knowing expression.

Jeonghan laughed. “Sippy sips,” he repeated, giving you a nod before raising his glass at you. “You’re cute.”

You touched his glass with your own. “Try it again.”

Jeonghan took another sip cautiously, letting the rich taste of wine linger on his tongue as he savoured it. “It’s fine,” he decided, nodding approvingly.

“It’ll taste better with the food,” you pointed at his plate with your fork.

You ignored the two pairs of eyes watching your interaction with Jeonghan, smiling at him as he experimentally took a bite from his plate of pasta, chewing graciously and washing the flavours with the red wine.

“I like this,” he said contently, giving you a loving smile.

“See, I told you,” you replied in kind.

As the minutes passed, Jeonghan began to loosen up. His shoulders slacked, leaning back in his chair as he downed the first glass of wine and pouring himself another without you noticing. The warm glow of the lights above showed the light dewy layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Are you hot?” you asked innocently, setting your empty glass on the table, leaning towards him.

“You are hot,” he replied, breaking into a hearty chuckle.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “Not here.”

Choi Seungcheol lifted his head, frowning lightly at the pronounced sound of Jeonghan’s laughter, but made no comment. Jeonghan’s lucidity had started to wane, and only a keen eye like Seungcheol’s would notice.

“Let him have fun,” his girlfriend advised him, giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow.

Seungcheol nodded, visibly discarding his worry away with a light shaking of his head. “So… how did you two meet?”

Everyone on the table noticed that the question was good in nature, harmless, but indirectly putting you in a tight spot.

“Joshua introduced us,” you explained, ignoring the groan from the other two displeased parties. “He wanted me to meet his best friend.”

“How does it work?” Seungcheol asked, ignoring the more aggressive jab of his girlfriend’s elbow. “Sorry, I have to ask. I need to know.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “I realize how this is confusing; it was for me too. But we just work it out. Make sure that it’s all fair for everyone in the relationship. It’s still all new but I’m glad we made this choice.”

Jeonghan placed a hand on your thigh in a subtle gesture of thanks. You eyed him, noticing the light glow in his face, the rosy cheeks, and lips.

“It seems like a difficult choice to make. How did you arrive at it?” now Seungcheol’s girlfriend asked, equally as curious. And you only understood it as them caring out for their friend.

“We had a threesome,” Jeonghan blurted, a bemused smile plastered on his face.

You realized too late, that as the night had worn on, Jeonghan’s demeanor had changed, from being rigid and nervous to being less coherent, and more reckless.

“You’re drunk,” Seungcheol sighed, dropping his forehead onto his palm at Jeonghan’s chuckles. He had been blunt in order to stop them from asking more questions.

“How much did you drink?” you asked him, taking in his flushed face, his glazy and unfocused eyes.

“I don’t know. A whole bottle, maybe,” he admitted with a slurry speech, a light frown on his sweaty face. “I’ll be right back.”

He grinned sheepishly as he excused himself from the table, walking disjointedly to the bathroom.

“I’ll take you home,” Seungcheol told you, motioning to a waiter to bring the bill.

“No, it’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’m okay, I can take his car.”

Seungcheol stilled, cocking one eyebrow at you. “He lets you drive his car,” he pouted sulkily, looking at his girlfriend. “He doesn’t even let me go near the wheel.”

“Come on,” you struggled to get the tall man through the hallway of his apartment, nearly dragging him into the marbled floors until you reached the master bathroom. You giggled nervously when his shoulder bumped against the doorframe, making him groan in pain.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mumbled some seconds after, making you think that the alcohol had set deeper in him during the ride to his home.  

“Help me, Hannie,” you giggled at his clumsiness.

“Don’t you laugh, I’m drunk!” he pouted, his eyebrows pushed inwards in a cute frown.

“Sorry,” you sighed with a smile. “You’re a big baby,” you explained, groaning as you helped him sit down on the rim of the bathtub, you swiftly turned the shower on and kicked your heels to one corner of the big bathroom. Jeonghan languidly raised his head to follow your movements, tilting his head back to look up to see your face. “Let me take these off, okay?”

He blinked slowly, taking some seconds in to process your words, biting his lower lip, he nodded.

“Don’t get any ideas,” you whispered, but could not help to also mask your smirk as you worked to get his white shirt off.

Jeonghan smiled, giggling goofily. “Caught me,” he muttered, raising one hand to clutch your wrist, looking now at your arms working to get his clothes off. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Tha-thank you Jeonghan,” you awkwardly replied. “You're beautiful, too.”

That made him chuckle again, slowly, but it was a joyless laugh. “That’s not what you said earlier,” he muttered, raising his arms as you peeled the white tank top off his torso.

“Did I said something earlier?” you asked with genuine curiosity, making a gesture with your hands, motioning him to get to his feet, which he obediently did, but with paused movements.

“Don’t play coy with me,” he tilted his head to one side, his half-lidded eyes now lowered to find your face.

“I’m not,” you blinked, but noticing it was just playful and drunken banter, you continued to undress him. “I–I’m taking your pants off, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his head bouncing and then he smiled shyly, bristling when your cold fingers slid on his belly, unhooking the waistband of his pants to push them down. “God, I’m so drunk. This is not how I pictured this night going. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shook your head dismissively. “Are you okay though? Can you step in the shower?”

Jeonghan nodded, wordlessly moving to stand under the shower stream. He let his head hang forward lazily as he seemed to come back to life under the lukewarm water.

“Is the temperature right?” you asked, leaning against the wall, enjoying the sight of him standing upright, and tilt his head back, letting the water shower on his face fully.

His hands pushed his damp hair back, feet stumbling clumsily as he seemed to lose his balance for a second.

“Be careful,” you mumbled, quickly shuffling on your feet to ready yourself to lend him a hand if needed.

“I'm okay, I'm okay,” he tried to reassure you, but your brow did not relax. “I’d be better if you hop in here with me.”

“Jeonghan,” you said chastising.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, nodding his head as he washed his face nearly methodically. When he was done, he looked around and said: “Can you pass me that towel?”

You should have known better, from the moment he did not seem to be shutting the tap off, you should have just waited but you dumbly grabbed the folded towel and handed it out to him.

Jeonghan was swift, grabbing you by your arm and pulling you in with such a strength that you nearly stumbled over his body.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed, awkwardly steading yourself before you made him stumble too.

But he seemed to be fine, laughing like a kid playing in the rain, his hands grabbed you firmly by your waist, pulling you to him so you were now pressed to his body.

“That’s better,” he whispered, making you stop in your attempt to step out of the shower and raised your eyes to him.

“You’re crazy,” you half scolded but could not continue suppressing your smile. “I don’t have a change of clothes,” you mumbled, being swiftly swept away by the beauty of the man in front of you.

Now you remembered. You had called him handsome. You called him in the same way you did to Joshua routinely and although he noticed your clear mishap, he liked it.  

“I can lend you something,” he replied, his voice was barely a mumble. “Will you stay here? With me? Please.”

You quickly understood what he was doing, playing the same cards you did on him when you wanted him to stay the night at yours. You smiled at him knowingly and he quickly returned your smile, although his was relaxed.

“Of course,” you whispered, eyelids fluttering repeatedly when Jeonghan swayed your body in a drunken motion, the shower stream washing over you, dampening your hair and dress.

“Good,” he mouthed, pressing a lazy kiss on your mouth. Then his hands moved from your waist to remove the pin from your head, releasing your hair.

“Jeonghan,” you called when he pressed desperate kisses on your lips, trailing down to your chin and then your neck, breathing heavily as if tired. “Hannie, let’s get you to bed.”

“Mmn, yeah, okay,” he sighed, but he did not stop kissing your neck, lips pressing quick kisses. But then in a movement, he lost his balance once again, his body stumbling over, pushing your back against the wall. “Oh, shit, shit. I’m sorry,” his hands held onto the wall to regain some balance.

“Let’s go,” you insisted, blindly finding the tap with one hand to shut it off.

You managed to slip the straps of your dress off, removing the soaked material from your body and stepped off the shower, grabbing the nearest towel from the hanger and wrapped your body, handing the bathrobe to the very drunk Jeonghan who just followed you with his gaze.

“You look troubled,” he mentioned, much as if he could not stop his mouth. “Am I overstepping?”

“No,” you immediately blurted. “No, Hannie, I’m just worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” he muttered, squaring his shoulders as he adjusted the knot of his bathrobe. “I can do this, I’m fine.”

Then he turned to leave the bathroom with a slow pace in his footsteps. “Jeonghan, wait,” you chuckled at his determination.

You followed him out of the bathroom, across his walk-in closet and to his bedroom. Where you were mildly surprised by the minimalism of the space occupied by a lonely king size bed. It was neatly made, the white covers folded by the hem, pillows fluffed.

Then you realized, Jeonghan had not spent a night at his place in a while. He had been spending night after night at yours, just sleeping and leaving the next day for work.

Jeonghan stood by one of the sides of the bed, clumsily getting on it with his hands and knees crawling to slump down on the pillows with a pleased groan.

Hesitant, you approached the other side of the bed, sitting beside his body, thinking that he had already fallen asleep. But he lifted one hand, blindly searching for your body. He first found your hand resting on your lap, then he palmed your thigh, right before he moved his head to rest it there.

“I’m sorry, this wasn't in my plans for tonight,” he mumbled, his cheek was tightly pressed against your towel covered lap, making his words partially muffled.

“It’s okay, Hannie,” you sighed, bringing a hand to caress his wet hair. “I’m beginning to think that you like being babied.”

He chuckled, his body vibrating slightly on his bed. “Yeah, maybe I do,” he replied, moving his face against your body to nuzzle you slightly. “But not like this. I wanted you to have a nice dinner.”

“I had fun tonight,” you replied with a sweet tone, feeling crushed when Jeonghan pouted, turning his head to see you face to face. “I thought your friends were nice.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes, of course,” you smiled at him. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you muttered, his dreamy eyes blinking confusedly at you. “I’ll dry your hair and get you dry clothes, okay?”

Jeonghan took a long second before nodding with his head in a stiff motion. “Okay,” he conceded.

Once you got him to wear some clothes you found in his closet, he slipped underneath the heavy white bed sheets and covers, motioning you over to his side. Jeonghan was quiet, the kind of quietness that no longer felt welcoming, nor comfortable.

You unwrapped the towel before sliding to his side under the covers, thinking that he was about to fall asleep. But he raised his gaze at you, and your stomach twisted violently when you understood that there was a reason why he had been behaving like this.

“I want to be more than your best friend,” he whispered groggily, struggling to stay awake. “I want to matter to you as much as Joshua does.”

“Jeonghan, that's not what I meant,” you breathed, chest deflating painfully upon finding what the root of his erratic mood was. “I trust you.”

Jeonghan decided that it was best to wait to hatch this conversation again once he was sober. You waited for his answer, but instead, he was surrendering himself to the fatigue that was accentuated by the alcohol.

“Hannie,” you called, but he made no motion. “Talk to me, please,” you whispered, shaking under the stress of thinking that you had hurt him with your actions.  

“It’s nothing, baby,” he whispered languidly. He should open up before he gets worse, he told himself. But Jeonghan was not a person who would confess his feelings first. His ability to think coherently was almost completely gone, and he feared to say something he might regret the next day.

“Are you sure?”

“Let’s talk tomorrow. When I’m sober,” his hand came to your cheek, whispering a sorry when you bristled upon his cold contact.

“Yeah, okay,” you mouthed, wriggling closer to him, where he received you with a kiss on the crown of your head.

But you could not fall asleep at the same time he did. You watched him breathing slowly, his heavy eyelashes tremble in deep slumber. You kept your movements at minimum, as quietly as you could, admiring his beauty without him knowing.

When you could finally fall asleep, you adjusted in his welcoming embrace, letting yourself ease into his warmth and leaving your worries for the following morning.

Jeonghan groaned, waking up to a light, but throbbing headache. But you were buried beneath the bundles of white covers with him, peacefully asleep, your cheek squished by the hand you kept under it.

He remembered you tend to have a light-sleep when you wrapped your arms around his torso too. “Good morning, princess,” he whispered, sounding gruff.

Your arms tightened around him slightly before you moved your head back to lock eyes with him. You looked tired, but there was a calmness in your entire demeanor that Jeonghan knew that was not because of your recent sleep. It was something else.

His heart sank once again. Did he say something last night? What happened?

But you just pressed your lips against his, humming in delightfulness when he reciprocated the kiss. “I love you,” you whispered.

Shock, relief, joy. Elation. All coursed through him upon hearing you say those words. He knew just how much you had been overthinking, grappling with questions about fidelity, jealousy, hurt feelings and such. So, to hear you finally say it lifted a stone from his chest.

Jeonghan took one look to your face and smiled. “Well, look at that,” he whispered, teasing you. But he could not deny, he was over the moon pressing his smiling lips to yours repeatedly. “I love you too, princess.”

You smiled on his lips. “I'm in love with you,” you reaffirmed, almost as if it was relieving for you too to say it out loud.

Jeonghan laughed in your lips, shyly lifting a hand to cup your cheek. “I know,” he touched your forehead with his own. “I'm in love with you too. I have been for a while,” he whispered nervously.

“I know,” you giggled too. The truth was, whatever Jeonghan thought he felt, you felt it too.

“Mn, I know you do. You made me suffer a little,” he teased, his voice muffled by the closeness to which he kept his lips on yours, pressing them repeatedly.

“It wasn't on purpose, Jeonghan,” you replied with a remorseful tone, pausing the kisses to send you a saddened look.

“I'm joking, baby,” he cupped your cheek, moving his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I wanted to wait for you to be ready.”

“Thank you,” you whispered shakily, denoting on how much this still affected you on an emotional level. “I'm sorry I kept you waiting.”

“I'd do it all over again,” he assured, his eyes reading your facial features slowly, committing to keep the glint in your eyes in his memory.

“I never wanted you to feel shunned,” you confessed, feeling emboldened by the honesty in his eyes, the softness to which he welcomed you in his arms. “I'm still thinking of how to make this relationship fair for everybody.”

“But this is fair,” his brow furrowed slightly, lips pouting slightly as he spoke. “I just wanted to feel reciprocated.”

“I know,” you nodded slightly, still looking at him in his eyes, which had something in his chest fluttering crazily. “I took my time to realize that.”

“It's okay. And it's all better now,” he whispered, leaning so his forehead touched yours once again. “I know this is hard for you.”

You nodded again, taking a deep breath. “Having two boyfriends is difficult,” you confessed.

“Yeah, I imagine. And it must be doubly difficult if both boyfriends are possessive, clingy, and obsessive, right?” he conceded with the smallest of smiles. “Maybe you should leave the thinking on how to make this fair for you to Joshua and I.”

“Mn, that would be nice,” you muttered, but you were quickly swept away by the softness of his lips, the way he hummed in delight as you kissed him repeatedly.

Jeonghan sighed deeply, nearly shuddering with the ecstatic feeling coursing through his veins. “I love you,” he whispered.

Both of his hands came to cup your face, squeezing your cheeks as he pressed more loving kisses on your lips. It made you smile the way his kisses took on a more hurried speed, as if he were trying to convey all his adoration before combusting.

“I love you, Jeonghan,” you replied when he stopped for air, deciding to keep his forehead resting against yours.

“I needed this,” he mumbled in between kisses. “Needed you.”

“I know, baby,” you admitted. “Me too.” 

Your hands searched for him while keeping your lips latched onto his. You found his torso, sneaking beneath his t-shirt. This time, Jeonghan did not protest against your touch, he let you touch his torso freely, roaming the skin of his back with your fingertips. You swallowed one of his moans, shuddering against you. 

“We never finished watching that show,” you muttered aloofly as you continued giving him open mouthed kisses, almost as if you found it impossible to part from his lips, and he very much welcomed it.

“What show?” he hummed, equally aloof, his hands were already on you. A groan tore his chest when his hands found your bare skin and he remembered that he held your naked body through the night.

“Love Island, I think is,” you giggled nervously when his hands pulled you to him just as he turned on the bed, lying flat on his back, with you on top of him.

“You think?” he asked, but none of you were interested on the topic of conversation, you and Jeonghan were all about to keep touching each other, unable to stop the warm, open kisses. “I thought we did.”

“Mmn,” you breathed out as you placed your knees on each of his sides on the bed. “They released another season,” you said right before diving on his lips for a longer, deeper kiss.

“Mn,” his hand cupped your chin, keeping you close with his pointer and thumb on you. “Wanna watch it, baby?” he asked, but his voice had dropped to a low, raspy murmur.

“Yeah,” you breathed out aloofly, then realizing how your voice sounded, you giggled.

“Right now?” he paused, his sweet brown eyes scanning the features of your face swiftly.

“Sounds like you have a better plan,” you quipped, running the tip of your finger down one of his cheeks, a soft smile spreading on your lips when you realized the lascivious need glinting in his eyes.

“I might have one,” he replied, a shyness in his face revealing itself in a smile and he finally giggle, making you do that too.

“Of course you do,” you quipped.  

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling you with his hand already on your chin for a kiss.

With that, Jeonghan came to his resolve. He was in love with you. And he was determined to make this work with you. No matter what.

✮ author's note: hi hi hi hi there i really have nothing to say. i was thinking of explaining the dynamic between bunny and joshua, and her dynamic with jeonghan but i hope i did a good job of conveying that in this chapter so tell me what you guys think? hehe also, i want to thank you guys for showing me your love for this fic in the last chapter. i was losing purpose in writing and seeing you guys show this fic some love made me so happy. i thank you for staying and for being here on this journey with me. i love you all 🩵😭 anyways, toodles!! ✮ STAY TUNED FOR THE FIFTH CHAPTER!! ✮ JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●) © RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[lynnie-ee]

Day 10; Fight.

╰┈➤"Your boyfriend's goals were very clear; Make you happy, spend time with you and defend you from anyone who dared to insult you in any possible way."

╰►Gender neutral reader, one-shot, 1.9k words. Kinda based on that one tweet that was like "My girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight."

╰► Characters: Deuce, Jade, Floyd, Epel.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

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﹙❥﹚Deuce Spade ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He tries his best, most of the time.

Every time he gets jealous or mad at someone else, he has to remind himself that he’s no longer a delinquent. 'Top students don’t engage in fights', he’d say to himself, even though he was well aware he had been in a few arguments with other students ever since he joined Night Raven College, each time promising himself it wouldn’t happen again.

Until it came to something related to you.

It was Halloween, it was supposed to be fun. You wanted to try a different costume this time, and decided to wear a more eccentric outfit, trying to match the extravagance of the other dorms.

You looked really cute, and Deuce was quick to compliment you, taking your hand with an excited demeanour, walking with you towards the Heartslabyul stand to show the rest of your friends your outfit.

He was really happy, as he walked along you, entertained as he listened to you talking about how you went into town and tried in many costumes before choosing that one, when he was able to hear a comment made by another Hearstlabyul student as they walked by.

"Well, they got no magic and no style, huh? Where did they even get that costume, at the kid's section?"

"Repeat what you just said." Deuce was quick to stop his walk, turning towards the student with a frown on his face.

"I said they look terrible." He answered with a defiant demeanour.

"They look perfect, are you out of your mind?" He got closer to the student with a menacing aura, ready to punch him if it was necessary.

"Not really, I've seen better-dressed scarecrows, why are you even letting them go outside like that?"

That was it.

Before you could even stop him, Deuce threw a punch directly at the guy's face, who wasn't even brave enough to defend himself, instead he just stood there holding his now bleeding nose, seemingly out of words now.

"And just so you know, they can dress however they want! And they got their costume at the adult section, don't say such stupid things!" He screamed as you dragged him out of the place, trying to avoid the small crowd that was starting to form due to the sudden commotion.

"Riddle's gonna kill you if he knows about this, you know?" You commented as you both walked to Ramshackle now, deciding to wait a bit before going to Heartslabyul.

"And It'll be worth it! He had no reason to say that kind of thing about you."

"I don't care, really."

"But I do! No one will insult you in front of me without getting what they deserve."

You giggled softly at his attitude, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Well, thank you, my Prince Charming." You watched as he blushed, timidly holding your hand.

"Whe-whenever you need it, my love!"

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﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Jade Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He can definitely fight, but it won't be his first option, unless the other person is the one who starts it, which never happens, because, well, he's Jade Leech.

He prefers to use more efficient techniques to make sure people never bother you again, which is why is widely known around school that no one should mess with Ramshackle's Prefect.

So imagine his surprise when, in the middle of one of his shifts, as you were sitting on one of the stools of the bar while waiting for him to be done, he heard a most unfortunate comment.

"Doesn't Azul always bother everyone about how this is a very distinguished place? I wonder who let them in while looking like that, they look like they came here straight out of bed."

As Jade was walking to a different table, he heard two students from Scarabia, making him promptly direct his gaze towards you, sitting by the bar with your headphones, without being aware of the words directed at you. It was Saturday, and you had stayed at his dorm last night, so you had decided to wear something comfy as you waited for your boyfriend. The outfit of the day was one of Jade's hoodies, which had a small embroidery of a mushroom on the front, along with a loose pair of jeans, as you supposed nobody would look at you in the secluded corner you chose to be.

You looked absolutely adorable in his eyes, and he wouldn't stand for malicious comments about you.

"Is everything alright? Are you enjoying your meal?" He asked politely towards the group of Scarabia students, who froze up immediately when Jade appeared out of nowhere, his smile more frightening than usual.

"Ye-yeah, everything is fine."

"I'm glad to hear that, but..." His smile widened as he got closer to the student who made the comment earlier, whispering so only he could hear. "I wonder if you'd be still fine if Professor Crewel knew about how you cheated on his last exam?" An innocent tone could be heard in his voice.

"How-how did you-?"

"This is a very distinguished place, as you know. It'd be inappropriate to allow patrons with such immoral attitudes to be seen in here."

"Let me talk to Azul, you can't-"

"Uh? What was that? I can't do it, you say?" He raised an eyebrow, a curious expression on his face, as he expected an answer from the nervous student, who knew better than to make Jade Leech angry.

"We-were finished either way, right? Thanks for the service, we'll be going!" The other student interrupted, quickly getting up to get ready to leave.

"Ah, I hope you enjoyed your time here." The vicehousewarden bowed politely. "But I hope you're aware that, if you make such inconvenient comments about my partner, I won't let you go as easily." He added with a close-eyed smile that didn't match his words in the slightest, as the students went away as fast as they could.

"Uhm, Jade? Your shift is about to finish, isn't it?" You asked taking your headphones out of your head to speak to your boyfriend more properly, as he placed one of your favourite drinks in front of you, his smile remaining on his face, but this time being softer.

"Yes, my love, just wait a bit more."

⤿

⤿

﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Floyd Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

Some days he fights, someday he doesn't care at all, some days he'll let you defend yourself if you want.

Either way, same as Jade, you weren't bothered often. No one would risk enraging the unpredictable Leech twin, and at first, when you started dating, some people wouldn't even look at you at risk of being misunderstood by the Octavinelle second-year.

It was less extreme now, as you've dated him for a while, but there were still some people who preferred to be more cautious around you.

But of course, there'll be always stupid people who'd make rude comments even when Floyd was near.

"Wish me luck, shrimpy!" Your boyfriend looked at you expectant, an excited smile on his face.

"Good luck, Floyd, score some points, okay?" You kissed his cheek softly, giggling when he accommodated the hoodie you were wearing, before going back to the basketball court.

You were in the stands, waiting for the start of a match between Night Raven College and another school which you didn't much about, you just knew that you were supposed to be there to support your boyfriend, and your friends too.

Floyd played better when you were around, and he liked to find you right away in the middle of the crowd, which is why he gave you his hoodie before the match. A hoodie that he likes to wear loose, and considering his height, you wondered if it'd fit you right when he offered it. You were wrong, and now you were sitting while completely drowning in the piece of clothing, making you look a bit out of place. But you didn't care, as long as he was happy.

The match started and everything went smoothly, as Floyd seemed to be on top of his game, scoring points left and right as he watched you cheer on him.

Until a student from the other school spotted you in the middle of the crowd, laughing to himself and then commenting on it with one of his classmates.

"Did you see that one student over there? I wonder if all the students here dress like such a mess, that hoodie is at least four sizes bigger than them."

"Perhaps they didn't even look themselves in the mirror before coming here, how embarrassing."

Floyd frowned as he heard such a comment about you, quickly deciding his strategy. He wouldn't allow words like that to be directed at his little Shrimpy.

"Hey, Floyd, pass it to me- what are you doing?!"

BAM.

The whole gymnasium fell into silence as Floyd threw the ball in the air. The thing was, that instead of being aimed to score a point, it landed on a different place...On the head of the student from the other school.

You could only watch in surprise, as Floyd turned around to show you a thumbs-up, as if he had solved a problem you had no idea about.

"Floyd! What was that?!"

It was a very effective strategy, at least.

⤿

⤿

﹙𑁍﹚Epel Felmier ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He'll fight at any opportunity that he gets.

After all, that's what a good boyfriend does, right? Defending you from stupid people it's his number one priority, and he wants to show you that you can depend on him.

It reaches a point in which Vil has to intervene, as it has been a regular thing lately, something the housewarden can't allow. 'Brutes don't belong in Pomefiore', is what he tells Epel one day as he scolds him, reminding him there are more ethical ways to solve things. Now he's on observation; one more fight and he'll be punished by cleaning all the windows of the dorm.

Ever since, he has been doing good, and you help him calm down when some stupid student from another dorm says something mean, telling him they don't know anything about the two of you.

But one day, as you both hang out in the Pomefiore lounge, he hears some second-years speak to each other across the room, as if you two weren't literally a few meters away from them.

"Did you see that atrocious sweater? No matter how you look a it, it doesn't match their jeans at all. Vil should stop letting people with such bad taste enter Pomefiore, don't you think?"

"What did ya say about (Y/n)?!" Epel startled you as he suddenly got up from the sofa you both were, quickly walking towards the other Pomefiore students, who observed him with a superior demeanour.

"We were talking about how badly your partner dresses. You're a Pomefiore student, Epel, you should know better than to let them walk outside with such ugly clothing."

"I gifted them that sweater! Take back your words, you idiot!"

"Even worse, you're absolutely tarnishing Pomefiore's reputation by-"

"And the next I'm gonna tarnish is gonna be your face if ya don't apologise to them, so hurry up, would ya?" Epel interrupted, promptly getting ready for fighting.

"Epel, let's just go to my dorm, okay? If you get into another fight you'll get punished." You tried to talk some common sense into him, considering that Vil would immediately know if there was an argument in his dorm.

"They're insulting you, ain't no way I'll letting 'em get away from that."

"But Vil-"

"I don't give a damn 'bout Vil-"

"What's the meaning of this scandal?!"

Well...You'll help him clean those windows, would you?

⤿

⤿

[cannibalizedlove]

Watching you.

Information and warnings — Creepy Donnie, stalker, talks of masturbation, virginity, sex, I don’t know if this is intense enough to warrant a “Dead Dove Do Not Eat” but it’s in that realm so be advised, match his freak? (his freak is criminal behavior).

Donnie Darko was a boy you didn’t really know, you were aware of his existence, yes, but you didn’t really know anything about him except he had terrible handwriting. The two of you sat shoulder partner style in English class. You never really interacted other than the few times you would be missing notes from the day you were absent prior and you had asked permission to copy off of him.

This exchange meant nothing to you, it was to you a simple transaction, nothing more than an easy opportunity to cheat on the next quiz. Yet to Donnie, this was the start of a new life for him.

Donnie had a tendency to get obsessed with things, ever since he was little. When he was younger, he was obsessed with war movies, he would rewind the tape just to watch the bomb scene again and again. Destruction was only the start of his concerning interests. As he grew up, so did the obsessions, a few years prior he was stuck on guns. He passed it off as an interest in fighting for his country, drawing back to the war films, but in reality it was the power of destruction held just by his finger on a trigger.

Now a new one had formed. You see, what you had believed was simply copying notes, was to Donnie; an invitation to a new obsession. He began watching your every move, he knew every tic you had, every nervous habit, every scab that you didn’t know how to leave alone.

Donnie watched you like it was his job, and you didn’t notice it at all.

Donnie was great at that, really. If he was ever called out on his creepy behavior, he easily passed the blame on to his hallucinations, he would pretend to break down and explain that he didn’t want to be a bad guy! It was the people in his head! You have to believe him, sir!

Be it the hallucinations didn’t help his creepy behavior, but they definitely weren’t the only cause of it. Donnie knew he was concerning, and it was a thrill to him.

Yet, you knew nothing about it, you didn’t even notice him.

A part of him resented you for it, he hated you for it. Why won’t you look at him? Why won’t you give him what he desperately craves?

The other part of him, though, loved it. Donnie could stare at you for hours, and you didn’t even notice. You were so oblivious, it was so cute. Donnie thought about the danger you could get yourself into being this unaware, how some terrible person could hurt you, and you wouldn’t even know why!

You should thank him really, if it weren’t for Donnie following you, you could’ve ended up with a real nutcase as a stalker!

The thought of someone else watching you the way Donnie did made him violent, he wondered if any other guys or girls at Middlesex thought about you the way he did. He knew he would take care of them if they even thought about making a move on you, you were his! You just didn’t know it yet, but you didn’t know a lot of things really.

The stalking started out tame, he’d follow you around school, memorize your schedule, take notice of all your stupid friends who weren’t half as interesting as you were. It made him angry, you hung around such stupid people. Why did you spend so much time with these idiots when you could be with him, loving him, taking care of him.

You would soon, he just had to teach you!

The stalking evolved over the next few weeks. He just wanted to make sure you got home safe! Oh, and of course he wanted to know your favorite drink from the gas station! It’s his job to know this, silly!

You know, it’s really dangerous to keep your blinds open, you should invest in curtains! What if a sicko wanted to watch you get changed.

Donnie wasn’t a sicko though, so it was okay for him. It was just to learn about you more, he loved learning about you! He loved learning that you still wore superhero underwear, and how you had all your favorite bands on your wall. On his walk home, he bought a tape from one of your favorites, and hoped you didn’t miss the pair of underwear he took.

Donnie used the pair he took to masturbate frequently. He thought about you when you would listen to your walkman and dance around your room in nothing but a tank top and boxers, or how when you would masturbate yourself you would get really embarrassed after you finished.

He wondered about your virginity, had you slutted yourself out to one of the Middlesex losers, or if you were waiting for the perfect guy such as himself to take it from you.

Sex with you is what he thought about oh so frequently. Sometimes he thought about taking you out to a really nice restaurant, and bringing you home to meet his family, and then make love to you. Other times he would think about opening your window and going from there.

Donnie didn’t want to hurt you, well he did, but only if you would let him! He would never do something you didn’t want, that you knew of.

He just wanted you to notice him, for you to be as in love with him as he is with you! You were Donnie’s whole world, he told his therapist about you every session. Under hypnosis, he told Dr. Thurman he wanted to have sex with you, and she had to wake him up before he could continue his thoughts.

The lack of attention was starting to annoy him more than ever. You didn’t understand. He was perfect for you. Did he have to spell everything out for you? He knew he wasn’t in love with someone dumb. So he began to talk to you more and more to show you how much you really did need him.

You thought he was sweet, he was attentive when you spoke like every word that came out of your mouth was the most interesting thing he had ever heard, and he would leave you little notes in your bag when you were leaving class.

It was only a week of talking before the boy asked you to go with him, and you thought it was the cutest thing. You told him about your favorite bands, and movies, and he smiled and said the two of you should watch them together sometime.

Silly you, he already knew all this. You didn’t have to find that out though! You were his now! It didn’t matter how you got to this point..

[pinkmirth]

i need more cowboi reiner tryna knock u up pls 🥺 👉 👈

⸻ STUFFED!

SYNOPSIS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ reiner just can’t seem to control how hungry he is for you. what better way to make you his than by stuffing you full of him?

CONTAINS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 2.5k+ words of . . . ) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, countryside setting, established relationship, reiner has a big fat breeding kink, sex flashbacks, doggie style, standing sex, creampie, use of pet names (ex. mama, sugar, honey), reader calls reiner ‘papa’, mentions of pregnancy, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

MY LOVE NOTE! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ it’s undeniable that cowboy reiner’s got a raging breeding kink. thanks so much for sending in your thoughts, my love! now here’s rei-rei bein’ a shameless feen for his pretty girl! 🎀

reiner’s terribly distracted.

the last thing he wants to do is lay blame, but in a way, you’re the reason why. the mere thought of you is enough to make this cowboy go buckwild. rei-rei swears he usually has more self control, it’s just that you strip him of all common sense.

you, pretty little you, make him all scatterbrained. his head’s been filled with nothing but romantics and vulgarities ever since he took you on a date seven months ago. you’ve turned him into some fool in love, for goodness’ sake.

memories of last night’s escapades come to mind. his mouth practically waters when remembering your plush ass; how you tossed it onto his pelvis with an arching back and swaying tits, peering at him with the sultriest smile, not to mention those glimmering bedroom eyes of yours. he recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his pounding were to become too much. you were soft, he remembers, so soft. the flesh of your hips would squish beneath the imposing pressure of his callous fingers, digging tighter into your sides whenever you’d flutter around the girth of him. he remembers the way he came inside with a rumbly moan, leaving your pussy full and the sheets wet . . . he wants to do it all over again.

with all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on feeding the cattle. the only thing that can solve his problem is its source; you. and just like that, reiner’s dropping whatever he’d been doing before. his chores can surely wait, but this surge of desire can’t be overlooked. not a thing matters as much as finding you, fucking you, filling you.

he rounds the barn, passes by the apple trees and the horse stables in search of you. his cock pulses with every step, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, now smeared with sticky precum. reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. he’s so fucking hard that it almost hurts. that’s what he gets for fantasizing about you for the past thirty minutes and doing nothing about it until now.

with heavy steps, reiner makes his entrance into the farmhouse and is met by the sight of you lounging in the living room. you’re seated on the floral-print recliner with your pedicured toes propped up, all nice and comfortable. you’re wearing the dainty string of pearls he bought you for your birthday earlier in the year. pride flushes throughout his chest when seeing how prettily it rests on your collarbone.

you greet your man with a glossy smile, one that makes his dick throb beneath his hay-specked coveralls. reiner wonders if you’ve taken note of just how red he looks, rosy heat scattered across his face, from the highs of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. he can feel his skin blazing with complete and total need.

reiner elicits a weak mumble of ‘hey, sugar. . .’, a stark contrast to your tone being all light and cheery as you ramble on about the cute little mini-skirt you’re crocheting for yourself. ‘since the weather’s getting warmer,’ you chime.

reiner loves you. he really, truly does, but he simply isn’t in the headspace to pay mind to the mundane task you’re occupied with at the moment— not when he’s this close to tearing off your summer dress, bending you over, peeling himself out of his spurred boots and pumping you full of every drop of cum he has to offer. fuck, he’s breathing harder now. gradually, he feels his resolve slip.

“you alright, honey?” you set down your crocheting hook, staring up at him with big, curious eyes. your voice, soft and consoling, grounds him just a little. reiner pulls off his signature cowboy hat, sets it on the nearby coffee table, and ruffles his hair so it falls into place. “yeah, i’m just—“ a pause amidst his sigh. truthfully, he’s here because he wants to fuck you pregnant. “i wanted t’see you, is all.” he settles on saying that instead. it’s much sweeter, all the more more romantic. less fetish-y. you probably would’ve looked at him funny if he admitted to crossing the entire farm by foot just so he could fill you up.

“aw, rei! you were missin’ me?” you laugh out of flattery. oh, your reiner. he’s so sweet in his own right. your boyfriend wants to ‘see you’, as he claims, like he hadn’t woken you up with nibbles to your neck, taken a (somewhat long, fairly busy) shower with you this morning, and ate breakfast alongside you before heading off to tend to the farm. you assume he can’t help but cling to you and want more.

it’s sudden, but welcomed, how reiner closes in on you. he draws near like a magnet, until the space between you no longer exists. he’s crouching down to the level of the chair, hovering over you to press a kiss on your lips. “mhm. missed you so bad, mama,” he mumbles against your mouth. in reply, you whisper onto his lips, something about how he’s always ‘so eager.’ he leans into you, desperate for more, and the chair creaks underneath the addition of his weight. he’s a large man, anyone can tell. his brawny build and imposing height never fail to make you feel safe underneath him. 

reiner dips his head low and plants one, two, three sloppy kisses along your warm neck, and it gets you hotter than the southern heat. he leaves saliva in his wake, trailed by the lightest of bruises from his suctioning lips. he tries to undo your clothes and his, but the small space that this decade-old chair provides won’t allow for it. besides, it wouldn’t be wise of him to make you squirt on a family heirloom. “this won’t do,” he clicks his teeth, decidingly picking you up. your legs wrap around his torso like second nature, arms circled around the back of his muscular neck.

“reiii, baby wait!” you draw out the call of his name, but all it does is coax him further. can’t you tell that your voice is only making him harder? that your whines urge him to fuck you silly? 

“wait?” he reiterates, grinding up into your clothed core. you shudder upon contact. “what for?” from beneath the denim he wears, you can feel his stiffness poke against your flimsy panties. “don’t you wanna head to bed first, honey? hm?” you whine into his neck. it takes a good eight seconds for him to respond.

“uh-uh,” reiner gives you a half-hearted grunt, with his gaze fixed on your cleavage that the low neckline of your dress presents to him. obviously, he’s interested in other things. “here’s just fine, sugar.” he’s strong enough to fuck you standing up with nothing else supporting him, and you know that. he doesn’t need a goddamn mattress.

reiner’s large hands grab at your underside, using your ass as the perfect leverage to press you close to him. this is your third time fucking this week, and it’s only tuesday. you’d mention it, but he’s too busy kissing down the valley of your breasts. impatience seeps through his every movement, from how he grasps at your thighs to keep you upright, to eagerly feeling along your lower half like it’s his first time touching your body.

“slow down, rei.” begrudgingly, reiner removes his lips from your chest. he finally calms for just a moment, so that he can meet your beautiful eyes. your face has been overtaken by a subtle pout. “m’sorry, honey,” he murmurs between a deep kiss, all wet and tongue-filled. you assume that’s supposed to be his form of an apology. his toned arm re-fastens itself around your body, holding you tight, while the other bunches up your dress and pushes down his bottoms, “but i need you. so fuckin’ bad.” you could never deny him and that sweet southern drawl. he knows that his smooth mouth works magic on you— he always gets what he wants from his pretty girl. 

now freed of any confines, reiner lowers his hand to stroke at the base of his dick, tugging himself with a low hiss. involuntarily, his hips buck. “you can finish up that skirt later, hm?” he releases himself and appoints his attention to you, the pads of his fingers circling your clit in just the way you like. your head falls forward onto his broad shoulder. “hell, i’ll even buy you some o’those frilly ones at that fancy mall you like goin’ to . . .” he utters partially to you and a little to himself, still occupied with keeping pressure on your bud. by now, with your head thrown back, you’ve already forgotten what you were working on in the first place.

having done this countless times before, reiner’s quickly able to find your dripping entrance. the drag of his tip through your puffy folds causes a ‘shlck’ sound to elicit. reiner smiles to himself; you’re embarrassingly wet. your hips begin to swivel and writhe, that’s how he knows you’re getting as needy as he. choosing not to waste any more time, he pushes himself inside with one swift motion. you cry out from the stretch, already fluttering around the first few inches he gives you. so far, it's just the tip and some, but he's so wide.

“goddamnit, baby . . . i fuckin’ love this pussy,” reiner grunts through clenched teeth. he’d usually start off with a shallow thrust and ease you into it, but he isn’t feeling as patient. every thrust is fast-paced, almost rushed. the impact has you bouncing in his arms, all as he continues his unrelenting efforts.

“s’good, rei— so good,” wavering moans spill past your lips. he hisses when your manicured nails dig into the hot flesh of his firm, round biceps. you squeeze around him until his eyes go rolling back. “i know, mama. i know,” reiner whines and groans, because it’s all he can manage to do. if he was air-headed about you earlier, surely he’s braindead now. he pumps into you rapidly, restlessly, but he still finds a way to make it feel so thorough. that’s probably because he’s fucking huge; incredibly endowed, like every other big and buff part of him. with a cock this thick, how could he not strike every nerve and hit every spot? 

he rolls his hips up into you with breathtaking fervor, fucks into you until he’s balls deep within your pulsating cunt. sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, he rasps out, “can’t wait to fill you up,” sloppy kisses follow, and his tongue slides across yours as he mumbles on about cumming inside, stuffing you full, making you his. you finally know what he’s doing, you should’ve known all along— he’s going to pump his cum into you as deep as he can get it to go. thrust his seed into your pliant womb until he’s fucked a baby into you. 

the mere thought of makin’ you a mama has his head spinning. reiner’s breath catches in his throat, and your sounds heighten in pitch— the pair of you can tell that you’re bound to reach ecstasy. he squats a bit lower, goes a little faster, attempting to propel you both into your orgasms. it’s coming on like an impending wave; your belly tightens, toes curling from where your heels dig into reiner’s strong back.

he knows you’ve come undone once your smooth, ridge-like walls begin to spasm around him, to the point where he can hardly pull back or push in further. he likes to think that it’s your pretty pussy’s way of begging for his cum. still, he doesn’t let up, not until you’re thoroughly impregnated. “jus’ a lil more. hold on ‘fa me, honey, m’kay?” he pleads through throaty whimpers. weakly, you nod. the overstim makes you pant and mewl, biting onto the damp skin of his exposed jugular to try and quiet yourself.

reiner slams you down onto him, the veins in his forearms bulging as he desperately grasps onto the globes of your ass. the resounding slap of skin rings around his tingling ears, lewd sounds floating throughout the otherwise quiet farmhouse.

“g’na let papa fill you up? yeah?” you cry out a weak ‘mhm!’ along with other pleas of how much you want it; want him. his balls twitch and his abdomen goes tense. “m'close,” he gruffly whispers. you decide to spur him on: “g-gimme your babies, papa, i need it!” that’s all he needs to topple over the edge. “oh fuck, mama— m’gonnacum,” reiner’s words jumble together when he comes, coating your insides with warm globs of white. though his thighs never cease their trembling, he still maintains a steady hold on you, keeping your limp frame upright. 

reiner stays inside as a means of keeping all his seed plugged into you, just for good measure. he doubts that he’s got enough energy remaining to round up the cattle after this. his chest heaves slowly, and his hair’s a mess from all that pulling you were doing, but he’s more than satisfied. he's even got this dumb, blissed-out smile on his face to show his content. you're sure he's knocked you up thoroughly by now.

he’ll make sure to buy you a pregnancy test by next morning. 

[1d1195]

Honey I

Read Honey here | ~5k words

From me: Supposed to be a one-shot but I have literally NOT stopped writing. So it's going to be a series because I CANNOT shut up and while I tried to keep it short and sweet, there was just too much for them. Majority of this story is going to be in Harry's POV (kind of) because I just think it's more interesting.

Warnings: parent death out of NO WHERE early on, angst, fluff, and a whole lot of baby stuff

Summary: “Who’s Miss Honey?” He looked above his laptop screen, the last application in front of him.

She laughed softly, her cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink. “Me,” she smiled politely, but her focus was sweetly on the baby as she chugged her bottle. “The little ones that had me before loved Matilda, we watched it weekly, and they said I was sweet like Miss Honey.”

She was his favorite before she entered the room.

Harry had decided he was only going to have one love of his life and that was it. He had tried a lot. But now that he was officially in his thirties, it was time to stop being flighty. Time to focus only on those that would make his life better and only on the things that added to his life.

Of course, he hadn’t anticipated falling in love with her as hard as he did. He had heard the stories. But she was different. Naturally. He didn’t believe it was possible. Harry was in love before, and it always burned him the wrong way. Cheating, lying, using... he was victim to terrible relationships.

But her?

She was different. Her love was unconditional. The very first day. Harry was putty. A mess. A complete sap. The little girl was growing to have sweet green eyes and perfect pink lips. She had the making of soft brown hair and Harry wondered if it would turn to curls like his.

But she was so beautiful and so perfect. It brought him to his knees every time he came home from work and saw her little face glow with recognition that he was all hers—and he was. So truly, there didn’t seem to be much room for anything else.

He didn’t love her mom. It wasn’t anything personal. The plan was to co-parent. It was an amicable decision. They weren’t in love with one another. Only with the baby. “She is one-hundred percent Styles,” Chloe smirked in the hospital. “Traitor,” she cooed and kissed the little one on the forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Guess m’good for something,” he winked and kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for all your hard work,” he joked.

It wasn’t a bad thing. They weren’t meant to be together, and it was evident in the way she continued to date throughout her pregnancy. The way she drove Harry insane as he worried about every little blip on the ultrasound and paid no mind to the aches and pains she had. (They were minor; and Harry was a control freak.)

Someone like Harry didn’t like surprises.

Which was probably why he was so angry at the driver that took away his friend and the mother of his child in a horrific, tragic car accident. Leaving Harry completely at a loss as to how he was to care for the sweet little girl who’d only barely been in the world for a month.

*

Harry was an extremely successful businessman. His company made millions of dollars a day. Hundreds of thousands of dollars per hour. So, he had the means for just about anything. Except he hadn’t a clue how he was supposed to help a defenseless baby without a maternal figure. Chloe was happy to stay home, and Harry was willing to pay for anything she needed. They weren’t in a relationship, but he was happy to be friends. She needed a friend as much as Harry did. There wasn’t much family in her life and in a weird way, they were a family. Harry struggled to trust people. Be it because of the money or simply because he worked so hard to get where he was it was hard to let Chloe in after he found out she was pregnant but he was willing to for their baby.

While Harry had relied on his mum and Gemma following the accident, it was impossible to let them take on all the responsibility. Given Harry hadn’t been to the office in almost a month, he needed to figure something out and the sooner the better.

He wasn’t going to cheap out on a nanny. Not even slightly.

So, for the first time since the accident, Harry packed his schedule. Brought the baby and the pink backpack that didn’t match his navy suit to the office. The women fawned over the little miss. Even the men made faces at her. Especially her Uncle Niall—Harry’s best friend and business partner. “Think maybe I’ll just quit and watch her for you,” Niall suggested brushing his finger on her cheek.

Harry snorted and settled into the conference room where he would be conducting interviews. He had done interviews hundreds of times before in the very room, but this time was much different. This was his little girl. He was going to be thorough, and he was determined to find the best person.

“When’s she coming in?”

“Last,” he told Niall not needing a clue about who he was referring to.

“Best for last, I like it,” he joked. “If you need help or want a second opinion, let me know. Just anybody won’t be good enough for my niece. Isn’t that right Little Miss?” Niall cooed and pressed his lips to the top of her head making her little face quirk up in a smile in delight.

“Aw, she loves me.”

Harry didn't like the idea that she was smiling at Niall at all. “It’s probably gas,” Harry scowled. She wasn’t going to love anyone. Especially not a boy and especially not one that wasn’t Harry.

Niall clapped him on the back with a chuckle as he left the conference room with a wave.

*

The interviews were intense. Within seconds, Harry knew if the woman across from him was going to be a good fit. Harry wasn’t blind; he knew many of the women that traipsed into his office for an interview were there for him. Not the little one. The ones that didn’t even glance at her in her seat were given a set of short questions. Those that oohed and ahhed over her received a longer list of questions that he hoped would tell him everything he needed to know. But no one had sparked his interest by the time he got to the last name on his list.

Harry had the baby in her car seat on the table between them watching the way she interacted with her. For most of the time she slept. Harry did work between interviews—especially when the shorter ones ended before the allotted time scheduled.

It was right before the last interview that she woke from her nap. Her eyes wandered around the room, and she suckled on her pacifier. Harry smiled at her and gave her seat a little rocking motion.

Despite being the interview that he was most hopeful for, Niall chose that moment to interrupt. Requesting his presence immediately. Harry glared at his friend and turned his attention to the woman across the table from him. Her eyes hadn’t moved from the little one—only to hold Harry’s gaze while she shook his hand. Her handshake was warm, gentle, but firm. He thought that immediately spoke volumes and the moment their introduction was complete, she turned her attention to the baby.

“Why hello, Miss Cecelia,” she grinned. “Are you having fun at work today?” She asked. “Are you the boss of everyone?”

“She definitely the boss,” Niall said in the doorway gathering Harry’s attention. He wanted to smack Niall.

“Are you serious?” He grumbled as he walked through the door and glanced back at her as she played with Cece. “It couldn’t wait?”

“I don’t know why you even bothered. Sarah and Mitch’s friends swear by her.”

Harry sighed. It was helpful knowing that someone Sarah and Mitch trusted were content with her services. They said she even babysat for their baby a few times over the years and had nothing but good things to say.

“Hi, sorry, to interrupt. But she’s making a gummy little noise—I think she’s hungry. Do you have a bottle I can grab her?”

“It’s in the fridge,” Harry turned to Niall looking for help.

“I’ll go grab it—”

“Allow me,” she offered and hurried down the hall as if she had already been in the office her whole life. Niall looked at his friend pointedly. When Harry changed her diaper earlier, the woman he was interviewing was unimpressed and when her face twisted in disgust Harry dropped the short number of questions to an even smaller number.

About a minute and a half later she returned. She glanced over her shoulder, shaking the bottle and then testing it on the inside of her wrist in one movement. “Jeez, drool much,” Niall muttered. Harry looked at him curiously and wiped at his mouth in case he was drooling at the sight of her. But Niall nodded at the person at the end of the hall staring at her from where the break room was.

One of Harry’s employees was smiling after her as she walked down the hall, his gaze clearly lingering on something that was not his to linger on. “I’m not sure who he is, but he needs a sexual harassment seminar,” she muttered.

Harry’s gaze flicked to the man who’s eyeline was still much lower than it should have been. He opened his mouth to shout something, but Niall gently pushed him toward the conference room. “I’ll fire him, just go... hire the insanely perfect nanny.”

He stepped back into the room and she looked uncomfortable.

“I’m sor—”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted quickly holding the bottle still. “I’m so used to just...” she shook her head and turned to Harry expectantly. “Does she eat in the car seat, or do you need to hold her? I can write my own notes for you if you want while you feed her,” she offered. Cecelia was starting to fuss, her eyes catching sight of her food and anticipating how yummy it would be.

Harry tried not to feel an overwhelming sense of hope but that was hopeless. She was already perfect.

“You can feed her,” he offered. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Hold this sweet little cutie? Don’t have to tell me twice,” she grinned delightedly and expertly and sweetly plucked the little one from between the straps and settled into her seat. “Hi girly, are you hungry?” She cooed. “I’m sure,” she said as if Cece had answered.

Harry felt a squeeze of pressure around his heart. While Cece settled into eating, Harry gave them both a moment to adjust while he clicked into her application documents on his laptop. The rest had been put into the computer’s recycle bin.

“Who’s Miss Honey?” He looked above his laptop screen, the last application in front of him.

She laughed softly, her cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink. “Me,” she smiled politely, but her focus was sweetly on the baby as she chugged her bottle. “The little ones that had me before loved Matilda, we watched it weekly, and they said I was sweet like Miss Honey.”

She was his favorite before she entered the room.

But now that she was in the room, he noted Miss Honey had a gorgeous smile which was not part of the qualifications. But Harry wasn’t blind to that either. It was perhaps the only way she looked similar to the women that came through for interviews before her. But even then, there was something so much better about her smile than the rest. Maybe because it was shy and sweet. It wasn’t flashy and certainly not directed for Harry. No, it seemed her smile belonged to Cece and that was it. She watched as Cece sucked down her milk and her eyes shone with pride, adoration, and warmth. Something Harry wasn’t sure he could explain to someone else without having them see it with their own eyes. Her body held Cece perfectly. Like she was meant to hold her. Effortless.

What was part of what made her infinitely more qualified than the others he saw, were the glowing and gushing letters from the previous family that had her. Even the little ones who signed with their name and ages (five and eight) told Harry in their little crayon letters that Miss Honey was the best. It was tragic they were moving, and she couldn’t go too far from her own family. She was everything Harry could have hoped for. The two letters from the children she nannied for pulled at his heart in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“Hi Cecelia,” she cooed while Harry looked over the words Mitch and Sarah’s friends used to describe her: dependable, intelligent, wonderful, and completely perfect. “You are so pretty; do you know that?” She asked and brushed her finger on Cece’s little cheek while she ate. “Does she sleep well?”

Harry was exhausted. Mostly because he thought every little noise was bad. He was completely thrown during the time off he took while he figured out the situation. It was a huge adjustment for him and Cece. Everything he did felt like it was wrong. “Sometimes,” he said quietly.

“How about eating?” She asked. “It seems like it’s good. Are you a good eater, Miss Cecelia?” she smiled excitedly at the little one. Harry didn’t answer because he felt like he was being interviewed and even though he had no issue answering her, he just wanted to feel a semblance of control over this otherwise stressful, uncontrollable life. “Sorry,” she blushed a shade deeper when no answer came. “I just... I want to know everything about her. I’m not judging, I swear. I... I heard about what happened to her mom,” her voice was full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry Mr. Styles.”

Harry didn’t love Cece’s mum—not that way, but she didn’t deserve to be ripped away from their daughter either. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “Thank you.”

Over the last month and a half, Harry became even colder and more distant. Once Cece was born, he didn’t love anyone but his baby girl, his company, and his family. With the little one, he planned on never falling in love again. Maybe when she was eighteen and started to live her own life, he would try again but he was certain he was never going to be able to leave Cece to her own devices. He was wrapped around her little finger that was smaller than the width of his bottom tooth. “Can I ask how many people have interviewed?” She wondered.

“Several...” Harry sighed. It felt like hundreds.

“What do you want for Cecelia?” She asked. Harry tilted his head at her. She was still looking at Cece, she was almost finished with her bottle and her little fingers wrapped around the bracelet near the bottle. “Do you like jewelry, Cecelia?” She giggled. “Good girl; don’t ever settle for anything less than what you want,” she smiled knowingly. Once the bottle was finished, she placed it on the table, then immediately brought her to her chest to burp her.

Harry was unable to form any of the questions he wanted to ask. In the span of a half hour, he hadn’t asked a single question he had prepared because he didn’t need to. “Good girl,” she praised as the little air bubble escaped her lips. Harry thought she would be good. But he didn’t know she would be this good. Then, she placed her back into the car seat and grabbed the toy Harry had left for her to hold onto while he interviewed. It was a small set of rubbery keys. Each one had a different texture and color. They were also filled with little balls that sounded like a rattle when it moved. “Is that so cool?” She asked Cece and giggled when Cece shoved one of the keys into her gummy little mouth.

Harry’s phone rang. He didn’t want to answer it because even though he was taking time off to figure all this out, he had to work anyway. He sighed heavily; wishing he could ask at least one question from his list. “Would y’mind? I have t’take this,” he frowned.

“Of course,” she smiled politely.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes and then Harry was back at the conference room table. He looked at her playing with his little girl making silly noises and faces at the baby. Looking at her with so much love Harry felt like he was intruding.

Then Cece giggled a funny little sound that was most definitely accompanied by her smile. Harry’s heart clenched. She had never made that sound before but when she made it again, he was surer. He gasped. Miss Honey turned to Harry and tilted her head curiously. “She’s never giggled before,” he murmured.

“Oh goodness,” her cheeks pinked again in embarrassment. Then she bit the inside of her lip. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. Some parents were heartbroken about firsts happening while they weren’t around nor responsible for it. Looks like she would be looking for another family entirely.

“Don’t be,” he came over and brushed his finger over her little cheek and she smiled at the sight of him. It made his heart ache deeply. “Is Miss Honey so silly?” He used a voice that he should have felt embarrassed using around someone he was interviewing but if he was going to hire her, she would have to get used to it.

“Can you giggle again, cutie pie?” She asked and popped her lips, making the smile Harry loved more than anything in the world appear on her lips. Then the tiniest little noise came from her mouth again making Harry forget all about her smile and fell in love with the noise instead.

“Aren’t you so silly, Cece,” he cooed again and made the same popping sound.

She giggled again and it seemed it was decided. Cece had spoken. Or giggled her suggestion.

“This is m’address,” he handed her a business card with his home address on the back of it. “I’ll have a moving truck come t’your place on Friday. My personal phone number is there too. I already have you’re your phone number from your application,” he explained. “You can start Monday?”

“Yes, absolutely...but are you sure...? I know things popped up you didn’t really get to ask me any question—”

“Do y’want the job?” He asked.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, very much so.”

“Then it’s yours.”

Her smile was so beautiful Harry wanted to reach out and touch her face. “Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

“You can call me Harry, love,” he said and stuffed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do something insane like touch her face. “M’sorry ‘bout my former employee. Thank you for bringing it to m’attention.”

Her jaw dropped. “You fired him?”

Harry nodded easily. “Of course. I have a daughter. If he’s going t’ogle you and say something t’you that obviously wasn’t appropriate, m’not going t’let him work for me.”

“Harry,” she said quietly. “That was... I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s done,” he said simply. “I’ll see you Friday?” He asked.

She nodded. “Friday.”

“Do y’want t’say goodbye t’Cece?” He asked while her eyes darted to the little baby gnawing and drooling all over the toy keys.

Her smile bloomed and her cheeks blushed. “Yes, please,” she nodded quickly, unable to hide her want.

Harry smiled.

*

The next month passed in an insane blur.

She had moved into Harry’s spectacular home. It was huge. Tall ceilings, beautiful light fixtures, and shiny hardwood floors. Harry made sure her room had everything it needed. But still remained simple. A desk, a bed, a dresser, and a bookshelf. But she had plenty to make it her own, which Harry assured her she could do whatever she wanted to the walls so long as she didn’t knock them down, which made her giggle.

She had a huge walk-in closet that fit more clothes than she had which only signaled she could go shopping. But the best part was a little alcove that she would use for reading—it pushed outward of the house with a little bench in front of the window. It caught great light, and she could see Harry’s expansive backyard and garden through it. Harry also had a huge pool which excited her. It would help get her workouts in.

The walls were grey-blue, and it fit in with a lot of the décor she had. She hung pictures using removable sticky hooks—a holdover from college. She spaced them out between her couple rooms. She thought this room would have been perfect for a nursery but when she saw Miss Cecelia had a skylight that let in the moonlight and when she checked on her in the middle of the night that first day, it made way more sense.

Her bathroom was massive as well. It had a walk-in shower and no tub, which was fine with her. It was painted a light yellow, so it felt just bright and sunny. The water pressure was to die for she worried she would really stay in the shower way longer than she should have because of it. Harry took Cecelia to his mom’s house where he was going to stay for the weekend to let her get settled without him around. “Do you have a nanny cam?” She asked him. “I don’t mind if you do, I just want to make sure I don’t walk around naked or anything,” she joked.

Harry’s face had a strange look on it and then he cleared his throat. “No, security cameras are... they’re all outdoors.”

“So no skinny dipping,” she joked again, hoping the weird expression would disappear from his face but instead it remained and Harry smiled weakly before turning his attention back to Cece and making sure she was correctly in her seat.

“If you need help moving furniture or anything, let me know I can send someone over.”

“Okay,” she answered quietly worried she would say the wrong thing again.

“Alarm and lock codes and keys are on the breakfast counter for you. You’re welcome t’anything in the kitchen. You can use the car in the garage or y’can call m’driver,” he looked at her pointedly. “I’d prefer y’not Uber or take taxis.”

Her heart fluttered for what she wasn’t sure. It was no secret that Harry Styles was beautiful. When her previous family told her they were moving, she was devastated. She had been with them for two years and she loved them like they were her younger siblings. They offered for her to move with them, but she didn’t want to be far away from where they were. It was at least the same coast as her family, and she just loved the city they were in.

But when they told her they were recommending her to Harry, she was happy. Her research (social-media stalking) found very little. He was in news articles pertaining to Cece’s mom’s car accident which made her heart ache for both of them. Even though the articles made it very clear they were not a couple. Cece would never know her mom, but she hoped that Harry would tell her about her anyway. She found his company and read their mission statement. Harry did a lot of philanthropy which made her heart ache again. It was so kind and sweet. But there wasn’t much she got about Harry from her search. His personal pages were private and there was very little information. Even articles in local newspapers and magazines didn’t have much from interviews. Of course she could respect his privacy, but she was hoping to know a little more about the man she was going to be living with.

This was only her third nannying gig. But she fell in love with Cece the moment she laid eyes on her. She wanted Harry to like her and so far, all she felt was his cold and distant indifference. When he smiled at Cece she saw warmth and happiness. It was completely different than the persona he had when he directed it to her. But Harry chose her to do this. That had to mean something. Maybe he loved Cece’s mom more than the articles let on. Maybe it was a ruse. She couldn’t imagine what that call was like for Harry. There had to be stuff he was working through.

So she didn’t let his indifference bother her.

Or at least... she tried to not let it bother her.

*

Monday, she woke up early and got herself ready early before breakfast time. Harry said he left the house at seven-thirty so he would be at work an hour earlier than most everyone else. When she got to the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee. But then she noted there as a box of English breakfast tea, and she realized her mistake and turned the kettle on the stove instead.

Once the drinks were set on the counter to cool just a bit, she headed to Cece’s room. Found her gazing up at her mobile. “Hello sweet girl,” she cooed and her little face grinned. “We’re going to give you a quick change and then go get you some breakfast, yeah?” She scooped her out of her crib and turned to the changing table. She heard the shower turning off a couple rooms over while she quickly changed her. Harry was naked only a few rooms over.

Harry was excessively handsome. He was tall, with dark hair, gorgeous eyes, and a jawline that looked like it could cut through marble. But she thought he was most handsome when he smiled at Cece. It made a flutter in her heart to see him interact with the little one.

But a naked Harry might have been good too.

Cece made little noises trying to talk in a way that only made sense to a two-and-a-half-month old and pulled her inappropriate thoughts from her boss’ body. Even if she was sure there were muscles upon muscles hiding under suits.

When Cece was all changed and comfy, she put her on her hip, draping her securely with the wrap meant to keep her hands free. The kitchen was still empty, so she tended to Cece’s bottle and grabbed the bread from the breadbox to make toast. Once she learned what Harry liked she would make a better breakfast but surely everyone liked toast. Given there was a jam that was half eaten in the fridge she only assumed that she was correct.

“Hi,” Harry said quietly as she pulled the bottle from the warmer. She spun around and took in Harry’s perfectly styled hair, his suit that fit him like a second skin, and his shaven face.

“Good morning,” she grinned. “I...I made you tea, but I didn’t know how you took it.”

He tilted his head at her and noted the toast popping as well with his favorite jam sitting on the counter. She was making him breakfast.

Was that normal? Harry had no idea how a nanny worked. He never thought he would need one.

“Um...there’s also plenty of coffee if you prefer that—”

“No, thank you. Tea. Three sugars. Thank you,” he repeated and grabbed the sugar.

“Do you like a lot of jam or—”

“Just a regular amount,” he watched scooping the sugar into his drink with a teaspoon.

She slid the plate across to him. “Do you want to feed her, or would you like me to?”

“I’ll take her,” he offered. He wanted to see his little lady before he left anyway and could use a snuggle. It was the first time in a month he wouldn’t have her glued to him.

“Let’s go see Dada, Cece,” she cooed and pulled her from the strappy wrap that Harry could never figure out. “Who’s that?” She wrinkled her nose and smiled as she held her out to Harry. Cece grinned and melted Harry’s heart as he smirked and held his hands out for her. He gave her a big kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, Ce,” he hummed and grabbed the warmed bottle as well. He sat on the stool around the breakfast island and brought the bottle to her lips. “Did y’sleep well, cutie pie?”

She didn’t answer of course, focusing on sucking down her bottle instead. Part way through, her little eyes closed, and she stopped sucking. “Blow on her face,” she said.

“Pardon?”

She smiled. “If you blow on her face, she’ll become alert again. The bottle just tastes so good she’s a little drunk,” she giggled.

Harry blew a quick breath on Cece’s perfect little face and sure enough she perked right back up.

Harry had such long arms he could hold and wrap his arm around, so the bottle reached Cece’s mouth with one hand (sure it wasn’t the most comfortable angle) but it allowed him to take a sip of his tea and get a bite of his toast as well. Harry watched as she made her second cup of coffee and put cream and sugar into it. “Coffee hmm?” He asked.

She nodded. “I prefer iced, but I won’t say no to hot coffee.”

He pulled his phone from his pocket and put it on the counter so he could tap at the screen. “I’ll buy an iced machine,” he said quickly scanning the quick reviews on Google for the best one.

She was gaping at him. “Harry, that’s not necessary.”

“Course it is. Want you t’be comfortable here. S’least I can get you. S’your house too,” he shrugged.

Perhaps it would have been different had he been in love with the woman that previously lived here. But this was different. That was too much. “Harry, seriously.”

“Seriously, s’fine, love,” he shrugged one shoulder without looking up at her.

“Honestly, I can just use ice from the—”

“It’ll be here by the end of the day,” he said ending the discussion. He took another sip and bite of his tea. “Did y’do something different to the toast?” He asked putting his hand in front of his mouth so she wouldn’t see him chewing.

“I put butter on before the jam. I think it makes it sweeter. Sorry I should have—”

“I like it,” he smiled. A genuine smile. “Thank you, love.”

“You’re welcome. But...about the coffee... I really don’t think you needed to get me—”

He shook his head as he sipped the final remnants of his tea. “It’s done, love. S’nothing t’worry ‘bout,” he shrugged and just as Cece finished her bottle, Harry caught the time. “I have t’go,” he frowned. “You have a fun day with Miss Honey, Cece, yeah?” He winked at her making her heart skip a beat as she watched him kiss his baby’s cheek again. “I love you have a good day,” he cooed and kissed her again. “Do y’want her or should I put her in the swing?”

“Um... I’ll take her,” she murmured stunned by the interaction.

“Have a good day, Miss Honey,” he smiled sweetly.

She liked morning Harry a lot.

--

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[chosolala]

geto headcanons ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

my bad for edging u guys with false promises of content 😭 please accept my apology in the form of cute and silly geto headcanons :]

he’s really sentimental (w some ppl, apparently not his parents) but secretive about it, like he probably has a box hidden deep under his bed of cards, gifts and notes given to him over the years

feeds stray animals behind peoples back

he’s in touch with his feminine side, like he has an in-depth skincare and shower routine, you will NOT catch him lacking

if you’re in a relationship with him, his go to when he messes up is leaving flowers and a note at your door

the type of guy to listen to you talk shit but never say anything mean himself

he’s probably a really good cook, mama geto does not play in the kitchen.

remembers little things people tell him

^^ because of this he gives the most meaningful gifts

doesn’t really like people touching his hair but still lets you and his girls do silly hair styles on him

probably really uncomfortable with people touching him, he and gojo probably had fights because gojo kept slapping getos butt despite geto telling him not to

the type of guy to have piercings that aren’t super noticeable right away (same with tattoos)

i feel like he’d be terrible at drawing and he thinks it’s no big deal until everyone wants to play pictionary (everyone has pictures of his art saved in their phones for blackmail purposes)

probably plays guitar in his free time

i feel like he’d like nu metal music but also oldies like marvin gaye or something

trivia goat, he knows so much about random things

also i feel like he’d love watching movies in his free time, he seems like a horror movie kinda guy

i feel like he’d have a cat that he literallt treats like his kid

play video games with gojo and gen gets so angry bc he gets his ass beat everytime without fail

i know he’d get to cheating after a certain point too, he’d probably cover gojos eyes or ‘accidentally’ unplug gojos controller

unintentionally a backseat driver

did matching stick and poke tattoos for him gojo and shoko in highschool

he may have lost every fight he’s been in but he will NOT lose and argument, when they go low, geto goes lowER

i feel like he’s unaware of his looks, like sometimes he gets free drinks and compliments but assumes people are just being nice or he’s just lucky, not that he’s actually super handsome (hello sailor ;)

pin and sticker collector, but he doesn’t do anything with them like he just has them

really good at first person shooter games (but gojo refuses to play those with him)

i feel like he’d read books catered to a female audience and he’d be kind of embarrassed about it, like what do u know about girl interrupted 🤨

his closet is like 80% band tees

takes games so seriously, like he’s very competitive especially w gojo

when he’s feeling indecisive about something he literally asks an 8ball

.5 iphone picture victim, his girls constantly sneak in .5 pics of him

always wakes up early to make a good breakfast

literally gives the warmest hugs ever, his hugs could stop a person from crying

monster drink addiction

takes most of his skin/hair care from his girls, probably online shops with them too

hates shopping in person like in malls so whenever the girls want to shop he just gives them his card and tells them to keep their phones on

carries medicine on him at all times just in case, he’s prepared

[lowkeyremi]

SWITCHIN' THE POSITIONS FOR YOU, COOKIN' IN THE KITCHEN !

pairing: s. gojo x fem!reader (drabble) note: i saw a poll asking who would be the worst in the kitchen and a lot of people (along with myself) voted gojo summary: satoru wants to make you dinner for a change but it goes terribly wrong for him ! content: fluff, gojo can NOT cook, established relationship (marriage), just cute stuff nothing crazy :3 wc: 783

An hour ago. That was when your husband told you not to worry about dinner, because, 'I've got it covered!' You've been married to Satoru for a long time, so you trusted his judgement. That was then, and right now you're worried because you are 100% sure something in the kitchen is burning right now.

If the groans and frustrated clanging of pots and pans weren't something to go by, then you weren't sure what was. As happy as you would have been to eat whatever burnt mess your husband made, you really didn't want the fire department to have to put out a fire in the building.

So, the only other option was to help him. He was bound to complain and tell you he can do it himself, but you won't have any of that.

"Baby? You okay?" All of the noise in the kitchen quiets when you call out for your husband.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Don't- don't come in here yet I'm not done." A loud crash sound ensues and a loud groan leaves Satoru's lips.

"I think I should come in now, yeah?" He sighs quietly. He's so let down that he nods forgetting that you can't see him before whispering a soft, "Yeah."

"What are you in here making, 'toru?" His blue eyes are just as pouty as his lips are. You find it hard to keep your own eyes on him when out of the corner of your eyes you can see something bubbling over onto the stove with a "psh" sound.

"Was making you pasta, but I burnt the noodles and now the sauce is burning." His voice holds none of his usual cheeriness, his lips hold a very deep frown, and his eyes droop down.

"Aww baby, that was really sweet of you. How about we clean this up and order takeout?" His frown deepens, if that's even possible.

"But I wanna cook you dinner," He whines quietly. Of course you're going to help him make dinner now, because he was so set on cooking for you. Satoru's never had to cook because of his family background, which is why everything in the kitchen is in the state that it's in.

An uneasy feeling washes over you when you see the amount of dishes that are in the sink and what time it is. By the time you guys finish cleaning the kitchen and buy groceries for dinner, it'll be late, but it's worth seeing a smile on his face.

"Well, let's get to cleaning if we wanna eat before midnight." His pout is immediately turned into a big, bright smile.

"Okay!!"

After much cleaning and a trip to the grocery story you and your husband are ready to cook.

"Okay, now that our hands are clean and we have everything that we need, do you mind passing me a tomato?" Without hesitating he picks up a the red fruit and slips it into your hand.

"Thank you, Honey." He smiles diligently as he watches you slice the tomato into halves.

Once he thinks he's seen you do it enough times he asks to give it a try.

"Careful 'toru. Don't cut yourself." With ease he slices through the tomato, keeping his hand away from the knife just as you had. Satoru Gojo is good at everything he does, so of course the cut is perfect.

"Look at you baby, you're a pro at this!" His ego is already pretty big, but it wouldn't hurt to let him feel some pride after his cooking disaster earlier.

While Satoru cut up the rest of the tomatoes, you started boiling the water and browning the beef. You make sure to season the meat with Italian styled seasonings such as oregano, basil, parsley, a long with the essential seasonings.

Satoru's attention is turned to you when he finishes the tomatoes. "Why didn't we just get the fresh stuff at the store instead of those seasonings?"

"Because I want to cut some prep time off. It does the same thing, don't worry too much about it. On top of that we're making homemade sauce so it'll be fine." He nods, but you're 100% sure he has no clue what any of that meant.

The pasta turned out way better this time and Satoru was so excited, "Okay okay, one more picture and then we can eat. It's just- gosh baby this looks so good. Thank you for teaching me how to make this."

It's not fair how he can easily fluster you. "Your welcome, 'toru. Now can we eat? I'm starving."

He lets out a laugh deep from his belly, "Yeah, let's eat before our hard work gets cold."

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!