#i wanted to write almost and i wrote also... this is the reason you should sleep kids | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvt0kki · 8 months ago

Text

training wheels | k.h.j

pairing : Professor!Hongjoong x innocent!reader ft!Wooyoung

♡₊˚( wrote this listening to ‘training wheels’ by Melanie Martinez)

summary: Too innocent for your own good, your professor's little hidden crush only grows the more he could spend time with you. You were so pure before his eyes. A sweet young woman who deserves the sweetest kind of love but still had trouble in paradise with her boyfriend…but he’ll be there for you. After all, he only wants what’s best for you and to protect you.

wc: 10.7k

cw: University AU, smut, coquette-ish fem!innocent reader, virgin reader, slightly older Hongjoong, manipulation, obsessive stalker-ish behavior, yandere behavior, corruption kink, cheating , frat boy behavior from Maknae line, oral!male receiving, there'll be more spice in the next part

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: hello so it’s been awhile and this has been cooling in my drafts for so long. Special thanks to @songmingisthighs for helping me whenever I’m stuck with writing and for being one of my favourite persons on this app 😭i wanted to write something that isn’t apart of the Sway With Me universe just for a change and a breather ( I hope you guys don’t mind that). I just wanted to write.

- this is will be a two part series!

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

Note: Hongjoong is a couple years older but he’s still young for a professor. Maknae Line is in their last year of Uni and is part of the University’s Varsity baseball team.Y /N is innocent ( smh). Kinda coquettish vibes but yuh, sweet girl.

The rain storming outside made anxiety bubble in your chest as you clutched your laptop bag and books tight. You glanced at your phone, the bright red bar of the little battery icon glaring at you. That just made your situation even worse and it didn’t help that the last message you saw was the reason you were stranded here in the first place.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. The team meeting is going overtime tonight. Get home safe. Please message me when you’re home.”

You waited for him. You should be angry at him but instead, you were only heartbroken and sad that he didn’t keep his word. You were frustrated that you couldn’t even hate him the slightest bit for forgetting to pick you up and the sudden downpour was just the cherry on top.

“Ms. L/N, is that you?”

That voice. That familiar tone that you heard every Monday and Wednesday from 8 am til 10 am. The voice that made your Art Appreciation lecture so interesting that you’re excited to come early every morning to learn sounded from behind you.

You turned around and quickly bowed your head in his direction out of respect.

“Mr.Kim.”

The young professor frowned at your presence.

“It is you. What are you still doing here?” He asked, extending his arm a bit to glance at his silver watch. “It’s almost 11 pm.”

“I-It started raining…” was all you could say. You couldn’t nor want to admit to your university professor the real reason why you were stranded on campus.

“Indeed…,” he gently grasped your arm and pulled you into the covered shade of the hall. “Do you need a ride home, Ms. L/N? I was just about to leave and go home but I can drop you off at the nearest bus stop or if you’d like, your home.”

His offer made your heart melt. Mr. Kim Hongjoong has always been so kind and sweet to his students. He has always shown such care and patience to their studies and well-being, and as the many girls in your classroom would whisper amongst each other, he was also very handsome. Which was a fact everyone in the whole campus knew.

“I don’t want to be of a hassle to you, Sir. I can wait for the rain to stop.” You tried to kindly turn down his offer, not wanting to bother him but also you felt it was inappropriate for a student to be in any proximity to a professor alone.

“Ms. L/N, it’s late and the rain doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon. I assure you it is not a bother to take you home. I’ll be worried if I just left you here.”

He was right. Both about the rain and the time, and you’re never out this late. Well at least not alone and it made you antsy. Mr. Kim looked at you with so much care in dark brown eyes that it felt impossible to say no to his kind offer.

“O-okay.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the passenger seat of your professor's fancy car.

You looked around subtly observing the luxurious interior of the vehicle. It smelled like new leather and Mr. Kim’s cologne. Your phone buzzed breaking your little observation as Mr. Kim typed in the location of your apartment into his phone GPS.

“Baby? Are you home? Please let me know.” The text message notification shone brightly.

You let out a little sigh.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice your rather wilted demeanor. He looked over you in the corner of his eye as he started the car. Little did you know, he was admiring your look today. You didn’t have class with him on Fridays so seeing today was rather…refreshing. Baby pink always looked so pretty on you, he thought to himself. Your blouse almost had a ballet-like aesthetic to it, it wrapped around your torso so elegantly and gently accentuated your curves. It was matched with a very pretty flowy white skirt that wasn’t too short nor too long, and there was a thin pink ribbon in your hair, the finishing touch to your very sweet ensemble. You always dressed so cute.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He asked his voice so calm and gentle that it calmed your silent frustration.

“Not really…” you muttered your gaze down at the hem of your skirt, your books, and your laptop sleeve on your lap.

The defeated expression you wore made the older man’s heartache for you. He didn’t like to see you like this. You were like a ray of gentle sunshine whenever you entered his classroom, a doe in a beautiful blooming field of flowers that radiated warmth that made anyone and everyone around you comfortable and calm. It was odd to see you like this.

“If you want to talk about it I’m all ears,” he offered with a smile, reaching behind the head of your passenger seat and glancing behind as he reversed up his car from the parking lot.

Your heart raced at the gesture. You didn’t know what about it was making you feel all flustered and small. His kind words and warm tone made it hard to keep your emotions in. Maybe you can just tell him…a little bit.

“I waited for my boyfriend to pick me up…but he didn’t come.” You murmured, heart aching as you said those words.

Hongjoong’s heart dropped, and he raised a brow at what you just said. Your boyfriend didn’t show up?

“I know I shouldn’t be so upset…it’s just he promised. I understand he has obligations to his team…I just feel like he forgot about me.”

Your sweet voice was so small. Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to soothe you and reassure you. Underneath all of that, he was bubbling with irritation. He kept a softened and caring expression on his face as he listened to you, gripping the stirring wheel to hide his annoyance.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” he said so sympathetically. “You’re such a sweet girl to be so understanding of your boyfriend. If I remember correctly your boyfriend is…”

“Wooyoung.” You whispered his name, your lips between your teeth as you tried to hold back your disappointed tears and hurt.

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened.

Right.

Jung Wooyoung.

“Ah…yes. The university’s baseball star.” He was also a student in one of his classes. A heartthrob along with his best friend and Baseball Vice Captain, Choi San.

“I’ll feel better when I get home and sleep it off.” You didn’t want to talk about him forgetting to pick you up any longer.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Ms. L/N, how long have you been together?” He asked, hoping his question was not so out of the blue as he continued to drive.

“Almost three months now, Mr. Kim.” You replied, the idea of being with Wooyoung for so long making you a little happy despite tonight’s disappointment.

Lucky bastard. “Oh, that’s very recent.”

“I know…but he’s very sweet to me. He takes care of me and he really makes me happy.” You listed the good things that always made your heart flutter. Your sweet loving boyfriend who had pursued you and never pushed for anything you weren’t ready for. If you were to describe your relationship with Wooyoung, it was like the love you see in the movies.

“That’s good to hear. You’re one of my sweetest students and I’d be worried if you weren’t happy,” Hongjoong smiled, earning the reaction he wanted and expected from someone as innocent as you.

Your pretty eyes widened at his words and you looked even shyer. He wondered if that’s why your boyfriend was attracted to you.

You didn’t know what to say but there was a small smile on your face when he called you one of his sweetest students.

“Thank you, sir.”

Sir.

Hongjoong’s night was getting better than he could ever imagine. First, the surprise of seeing you still on campus alone as he left, then you accepting his offer to drive you home, and now, Sir? For a long time, he loved how that name slipped from your pretty glossed lips.

“I’m sure your boyfriend feels really guilty about not having shown up. Sometimes these things happen.” Hongjoong tried to reassure you, not really wanting to defend the University senior you were seeing but he needed to say what you wanted or needed to hear.

You take his words as it is. He was older than you so he knew about these things more than you. He was wiser. He was right, these things do happen. Wooyoung did apologize too. So maybe it’s not as bad as you were making it out to be.

Hongjoong noticed how you sat up a little, no longer sulking so cutely in the passenger seat. He smirked a little to himself, his eyes on the road. Did you trust his words that much? Was that how much power he had over you?

You were too innocent it concerned him.

You were truly a doe in a field of flowers. So pretty and so completely oblivious to the wolves hiding in the tall grass. He was sure your boyfriend was one of them and that he too had a deep dark desire for your innocence.

“Is this your place?” He pulled up outside an apartment complex, people passing by in the street as he looked up at the building observing it.

“Yes, it is!” You chirped, happy that you were able to get home safely and it was all thanks to your kind and sweet professor. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kim. I really appreciate it. I really cannot thank you enough…and talking to you made me feel better. I’m really lucky that you were here tonight.”

Hongjoong smiled, holding back from reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t want to scare you away.

“If you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble, Ms. L/N, you can come to me okay? Here,” he reached into his pocket, getting his card but writing down his personal phone number in the back of it before holding it your way.

Like he expected you didn’t think much of it, what a sweet girl.

“Mr. Kim you’re so kind.” You took the pretty name card with his phone number in the back. “I don’t get into trouble but I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Let me help you get inside, okay?” He got out of his car with an umbrella, going over to your side to open the passenger seat door and to hold the umbrella over you and him so that he could escort you to your apartment lobby.

You stepped out of the car and blushed when you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders to gently guide you to the sidewalk and your apartment lobby. He made sure you were dry and safe and also took note of how an access card is needed to get in. He was glad you lived somewhere so safe.

You thanked him again, unable to look him in the eyes because the warm smile on his face was making your heart flutter.

“Now I can go home without worrying if you got back safe,” he lightheartedly teased, making you giggle. He was such a kind person. “Take care of yourself, Ms. L/N. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Enjoy your weekend, Sir.” You bowed your head respectfully, appreciating how handsome he was in his coat and suit. It made him look like a character from the dramas you see on television.

Monday rolled around quicker than you thought while Hongjoong found the weekend went by agonizingly slow. As he set up his laptop in the lecture hall as other students filed in, he couldn’t help but anticipate your arrival. He kindly smiled and greeted the students who had the energy to wish him a good morning, he even kept glancing at your seat that was still empty.

Were you not well? Did you catch a cold over the weekend from the rain on Friday night?

“You really didn’t have to walk me, Woo.”

Your gentle soft voice made the professor perk up and his heart race a little. Subtly, he glanced at the door, more students entering but behind them in the hall was you.

“Hey, I still feel guilty about not having picked you up on Friday. I’m gonna make it up to you.” Wooyoung placed his hand on your waist, feeling the soft fabric of your skirt. “You’re too nice if you’re just gonna let me off the hook. I’m gonna be extra attentive, okay baby?”

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at the young dark-haired boy, his varsity jacket telling everyone that passed who he was and the status he had in the university. He zeroed in on the hand on your waist, Wooyoung’s thumb caressing you gently and his fingers even playing with the cute ribbons on your skirt.

“O-okay,” you blushed, trying to fight back the giddy smile that was forming on your face.

Wooyoung grinned at your response and glanced left and right before pulling you closer til you were pressed against him. Your wide eyes looked up at him in surprise and you got your body tingling when both his hands rested on your waist.

Your fluster only made your handsome boyfriend grin even more with that twinkle in his eyes that always made you feel special.

“You have a nice day, okay?” He whispered and before you could respond, without a care in the world and with no shame if any other student passing would see, he leaned down and kissed your glossed lips.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. This was different from the soft pecks and quick kisses he’d give, these were the kisses you liked from him. The deep ones that made your head feel all hazy. The one that made heat pool in your lower belly.

Wooyoung pulled back and pressed another kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

“O-okay.” You murmured, feeling everyone’s curious eyes on both of you and wanting to remain hidden by Wooyoung’s form.

Wooyoung smiled and then licked his lips. “Oh? Strawberry?”

The mention of your flavored lip gloss made you look up at him, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“You’re gonna have me craving you all morning, baby.” He dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “How will I ever survive? One more.” He tried to go for another kiss and you squealed as he pulled you back.

“Woo, I have class!”

“But strawberry!” He pouted as he kept you in his embrace, some students rolling their eyes at the two of you and some finding the two of you cute and amusing. Wooyoung’s teammates from down the hall caught wind of the two of you and hooted.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ll be starting my lecture soon.”

The voice of Mr. Kim made your eyes widen as embarrassment made you want to hide from his gaze.

“Oh, Mr. Kim,” Wooyoung spoke his professor's name with no shame of getting caught being affectionate with his girlfriend. “Morning!”

Hongjoong could only manage a nod to his greeting before turning to you, still in your boyfriend’s hold and unable to look him in the eyes.

“Ms. L/N, class starts in five minutes.” He spoke sternly, his tone making your lips form a small pout.

The way you reacted to him made the older man before you swoon. God, you were too cute.

“Yes, sir.”

There it was again. The way you said ‘sir’ all defeated and cute.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Wooyoung apologized. “My bad.” He removed his varsity jacket and draped it over your shoulders before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch, baby.”

Then Wooyoung sauntered away with a swing in his step and his bag over one shoulder, on his way to his respective class.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” You murmured, keeping your gaze down and hugging your books to your chest as you went inside the room along with the last few students who arrived.

Hongjoong watched as you made your way to your seat. Your pretty skirt swayed with each step and he wondered if skirts made up most of your wardrobe. It must be such a delight for your boyfriend.

Loosening the grip he had on his pen as he watched the whole interaction between you and Wooyoung, he smiled at his students. What mattered the most to him was you were safe. You were here and you were safe and well. Never mind the fact that you and your boyfriend easily made up from Friday night’s incident.

You were here.

The lecture was an enjoyable one not only for the students but him as well. As he discussed the significance of art during the Roman Empire, his students were all hooked in with his explanations and discussions, and even he got carried away excitedly with every question and topic.

“Mr. Kim is so hot.” A classmate beside you, Jennie, whispered to her friend, the two of them giggling as your professor shared his knowledge with the class.

“And he’s so nice too. You think he’s a virgin?” Minsol whispered back and you felt your heart grow hot listening to them.

You fidgeted in your seat and tried to block them out, focusing on Professor Kim.

“He’s so young to be a professor. Maybe he spent all that time studying to the max, you know! Maybe he is!”

“He’s so cute.” Minsol chuckled. “But then he’s so sexy when he pushes his hair back.”

And almost as if on cue, Mr. Kim ran his fingers through his dark brown locks, pushing them back as he smiled at his students in awe at the discussion.

He was handsome. You admitted that a long time ago. Attractive? Yes. But he was your professor. It was wrong to think of him the way Jennie and Minsol were.

Til now, their voices couldn’t be blocked out completely.

“I’d gladly blow him for a good grade,” Jennie whispered, her eyes looking Hongjoong up and down.

“Jennie!” Minsol playfully smacked her friend, her voice still hushed.

“What? Just think of it. Goody two shoes Mr.Kim so kind and worried that your grades are slipping, and then you tell him you’d do anything to raise your grade.” Jennie described the scenario so vividly. “No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Your heart was racing in your chest as you listened to the fantasy. It didn’t help that Mr. Kim was right there before your eyes as Jennie’s voice whispered discreetly to her friend such a scandalous scenario.

“But it won’t stop there.”

That piqued your interest and you felt ashamed to have been so curious.

“He has a nice car too. Imagine fucking in the backseat of that luxury car way past campus hours in secret.”

Your heart thumped strongly at the mention of his car. You had been in his car and the dirty thought of Mr. Kim being all over your body and kissing you in the spacious backseat crossed your mind.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned all his students, happy that they were enjoying the class but paused when he saw you. Your body was swallowed by your boyfriend’s big varsity jacket and you looked flustered, even biting your glossed lips, fidgeting in your seat.

Then he saw the two girls next to you giggling and gossiping. What were they talking about that was making you blush so much? Briefly, your eyes moved from your notebook and locked with his but you immediately looked down when you saw that he had been looking your way.

Hongjoong could only assume they were talking about him. In what way? He wasn’t sure but it was a way that was making you look even shyer and could he dare say, hot and bothered?

Then the bell rang.

“Alright, we’ll continue the discussion on Wednesday and I’ll hand you all your Renaissance art period essays that I already graded then. Have a nice day.” Hongjoong’s elegant and calm voice echoed in the lecture hall, as he made his way behind his desk, sitting out the papers.

A chorus of thanks was sent his way as the students little by little exited the lecture hall. He looked your way, watching as you packed your things and gathered your books.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jennie turned to you. “How are you and your stud of a boyfriend?”

“Oh, m-me and Woo?” Your lashes fluttered so prettily as Hongjoong pretended he couldn’t hear you and the girls.

“Yeah! We saw you two being all cute and kissy out in the hall.” Minsol chuckled as she touched up her makeup with powder.

“We’re great.” You couldn’t stop the happy smile on your face as you thought of your boyfriend.

“He’s your first boyfriend, right? Have you two…you know….”

Your brows furrowed. “Have we what?”

Hongjoong fought his sigh at how oblivious you were.

Minsol’s eyes widened as she snapped her compact closed and leaned over. “You guys haven’t?”

“What are you two talking about?” You tilted your head like a puppy.

The two girls exchanged looks of shock.

“Y/N…” Jennie leaned closer, lowering her voice even further but Hongjoong’s ears were sharp. “Are you a virgin?”

Immediately, your face was burning as you hugged your books to your chest, wanting to cover your face with Wooyoung’s jacket.

“Holy shit!” Minsol exclaimed then realized she had been loud. She looked towards the whiteboard and saw Mr. Kim looking at the three of you questioningly. “Uh…sorry Mr. Kim!”

Hongjoong only smiled and he shook his head, returning to his papers and was glad that he was sitting behind his desk as the idea of you never being touched morphed from shock and into desire. He kind of guessed you were…but dating the star athlete and heartthrob of the campus made him second guess that you were.

“Girl, you need to come with us!” Jennie hooked her arm with yours and Minsol on the other as the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall.

“Bye, Mr. Kim!” They chimed as they dragged you out with them.

“B-bye, sir.” Your little voice reached his ears as the three of you finally left him alone in the empty hall.

Hongjoong hunched over, crossing his arms on his desk as he groaned.

You were driving him insane.

What’s worse was that you didn’t even intend to do so.

He wanted you.

He needed you.

As the afternoon passed, Hongjoong made his way to his office. The hall was empty as students were in their classes or their club activities. It was peaceful til he heard hushed whispers ahead from an empty classroom, the door only slightly ajar.

The professor frowned. Were there students doing another weed deal on campus? Before concluding, through the very small gap of the wooden double doors, he took a peek.

“S-someone could walk in.”

Was that his sweet Y/N’s voice? Hongjoong’s heart began to race.

“Baby, I promise no one is. This room is always vacant at this hour.” Wooyoung reassured you, kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, specifically caressing your thighs that were parted as he stood between them.

Hongjoong swallowed the lump in his throat.

Perched on the large mahogany desk, was you. Your skirt was hiked up higher as your boyfriend pressed against you, his paws all over your soft body, feeling you through your clothes.

“You look so sexy in my jacket,” Wooyoung whispered in your ear, his hand moving lower til they were under your skirt. “I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you looked during lunch.”

You softly yelped when his fingers pressed against your core through your cotton panties. “W-woo!”

“Awe, baby, are you getting wet? All for me?”

“W-woo,” you whimpered when he traced his fingers along your slit, embarrassed at the dirty talk.

“Fuck, you’re soaking through your panties, baby. Tell me you want me to touch you. Ask me and I’ll make you feel good, baby.”

You wanted him to keep touching you but you felt a little guilty. You had started to feel hot way earlier than your boyfriend knew. Jennie and Minsol’s hushed whispering from class about Mr. Kim…ashamedly had made you ache.

“M-make me feel good, Woo.”

Your boyfriend groaned against your neck, rubbing you through your panties. “My pretty baby. You deserve so much.”

Your back arched when he applied more pressure to your clit.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby. I promise…. but I won’t make your first time here in a classroom.” He kissed your neck messily, licking your skin.

“But Youngie…” you didn’t want him to stop touching you. He has touched you like this many times before when he came over but it never went past that. He didn’t want to force you into something you weren’t ready for but as time passed and the more you fell for him, you’ve been wanting to go all the way with him.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you cum. I’ll be a good boyfriend and let my pretty girlfriend cum.” He kissed your forehead, slipping his hand under your panties to truly feel you. “You’re so wet, baby.” He moaned, collecting your slick and spreading it all over your pussy.

“Youngie,” you whimpered, gripping his shirt as your thighs trembled at the delicious friction.

“I love it when you call me that,” he sighed, repressing the urge that he indeed in fact wanted to ruin his pretty untouched girlfriend. He loved you and he wanted to treat you right as best as he could. You weren’t like the other girls he’s been with. He liked how you looked at him with stars in your eyes.

Your thighs squeezed at his sides unable to close as he continued to play with your pussy, touching you heavily and the way you liked. You couldn’t help but softly moan and pant at the intoxicating pleasure.

Hongjoong was burning with jealousy. A part of him wanted to disrupt the two of you and scold the two of you for misconduct as he had every right as a professor to do so. But…you looked so pretty falling apart for your boyfriend. Brows furrowed as your lips part and sigh, the setting sun hitting your skin in such a way that the lewd imagery before him was like a movie. He could feel his desire straining in his trousers. He wanted to watch.

“Youngie,” you whimpered so prettily.

Hongjoong took note of how your back arched when Wooyoung nibbled and kissed at a spot on your neck. You must be extra sensitive there. He also imagined how soft your breasts would be if he was the one cupping them through your cute blouse.

“You close baby?” Wooyoung rasped against your ear, rubbing your clit faster, making you lean your head forward to rest on his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Wooyoung clicked his tongue, his right hand leaving your breast to grab you by the chin, making you look at him. “Let me see your pretty face, baby.” He swiped his thumb over your lower lip and bit his lip when you suddenly took his digit into your mouth, softly sucking on it. Where the fuck did you learn to do that? “C’mon, baby. Cum. Cum for me.”

You released his thumb with a soft pop, your lips even glossier from your gloss and saliva. You were panting and moaning so cutely, Wooyoung felt he was going to cum in his pants just at the sight of you getting off his fingers. He massaged your clit faster, watching the way your lids began to droop as you blinked up at him hazily and your lips part in a cute little ‘o’.

“Youngie!” You cried out, back arching and thighs trembling as you reached your high, your pussy dripping more arousal all over your boyfriend’s fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Such a pretty baby.” Wooyoung cooed, enjoying your fucked out expression. It was addicting really. His sweet innocent girlfriend falling apart for him. If you were this fucked out by just fingers, he can’t imagine how fucking delectable you looked when he finally fucked you.

Hongjoong bit his lip as he watched you come down from your high. How your arms wrapped around your boyfriend as he slowed his circles on your clit. He wished he could see how your pussy looked, how wet it was, and how sweet the nectar it produced.

Wooyoung took his hand from your panties and brought his fingers to his lips, your eyes widening. His hand left its grip on your face.

“W-woo!”

That didn’t stop him from letting his tongue dart out to lick his digits. “You taste so sweet, baby. Maybe I’ll come up tonight once I drop you off and really have a good taste of you.”

You blushed at his words and felt heat spark in your lower belly at what he hinted. Did he mean that he was going to kiss and taste you down there? With his tongue? The idea made your cheeks grow hot but that only made your boyfriend grin.

“Oh? You’re not opposed to it?” He teased, enjoying the way you only huffed and pouted your pretty lips. “Here, baby. Taste yourself.”

Hongjoong watched as you wearily, so curiously, poked out your cute tongue to lick your boyfriend’s fingers. How did you taste? Did you like it? You batted your lashes up at your boyfriend who awaited your verdict.

“So? How do you taste?” He took your hand in his other one, just relishing the moment you two had in the orange sunset-lit classroom.

“G-good.”

“Atta, girl.” Wooyoung grinned, taking you into his embrace and kissing you again.

Hongjoong felt his head pound from how hard he was in his pants. He wanted a taste. He needed a taste.

How was he going to get close to you when you and your boyfriend were all fine and dandy again?

“What do you say, baby? Friday night? I’ll come over and we’ll watch a movie. I’ll bring your favorite strawberries coated in chocolate. Then maybe…” he caressed your cheek. “We could go all the way?”

“W-won’t it hurt?”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s hearts ached at your sweetness.

“Well, when Friday rolls around, and you’re not up for it. It’s okay. We’ll just have a cozy little date and make out. I’ll wait for you when you’re ready. Okay?”

His gentle voice along with his care for you made your stomach flutter. “O-okay.” You leaned your cheek into his palm. “I love you, Woo.”

“I love you too, baby.”

While you and Wooyoung basked in the moment you two found yourselves in, Hongjoong made a beeline to his office and locked the door. He glanced down and saw the bulge of his cock poking through his tailored trousers. He threw his head back, slamming it against the door as he groaned.

He was going to have to take care of it himself cause it wasn’t going to go away til he did.

He didn’t know when the stalking— okay, in his defense, following and keeping an eye on you, started.

All Hongjoong knew was, he needed to get to know you. He needed to get closer somehow, be a friend. Someone you could turn to and cry to. Plus, you lived alone, away from your parents. You needed someone to protect you.

From all the wolves that surrounded you, including that boyfriend of yours.

As he passed the baseball field from where he parked his car, he couldn’t help but overhear a group of young wolf pups gathered and talking beneath the morning sun. They all wore the same varsity jacket, making Hongjoong’s pack of wolves analogy even truer.

“So? Did you and Y/N go all the way yet?” The Vice Captain of the team asked, the young and handsome Mr. Choi.

The rest of the boys began to nudge and tease their Captain who had been tossing the baseball in his hand nonchalantly.

“Yeah, have you and little Miss all prim and proper done more than just second base?” The tallest of them, Song Mingi, joined in the teasing, the boys all grinning and tossing oo’s and ah’s. “Your girl has a nice ass.”

“Hey,” Wooyoung harshly hissed at his teammate. “Yeah, and that’s my girl you’re talking about.”

“Can’t blame Mingi. You’re with the campus’s dream girl.” Jongho added, running his fingers through his brown hair.

“Dream girl?” Wooyoung’s brows furrowed.

“Yeah! Sure she’s lowkey and literally the nicest person on campus. Hell, she even helped me with calculus. I even thought of asking her out on a date.” San chirped. “But you got to her first. Anyway, that’s beside the point, did you guys finally do it? Friday night?”

Hongjoong remained hidden behind the shadows of the bleachers, needing to know the answer to San’s question.

“We didn’t. She got nervous and you know, I have to be a good boyfriend and wait. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s a nice girl.” Wooyoung finally responded, his answer earning a groan from his friends.

Mingi stared at him for a moment. “You should be a saint. That amount of self-control is crazy.”

“Well, good things come to those who wait, Mingi.” Wooyoung grinned. “I’m a hundred percent sure my girl is worth the wait and more.”

“You’re really down bad for her, huh?” Jongho laughed softly, actually admiring the fact that Wooyoung was becoming a better guy with you.

“Y-yeah…she is. I really love her.”

“I just can’t believe she fell for you. After all the girls you slept with in the past and the parties. She still fell for Jung Wooyoung. Anyways,” Jongho clapped Wooyoung on the back. “I hope you get some soon.”

San wouldn’t relent though.

“Has she at least been…you know….giving? I know you worship the fuck out of her in different ways but has the pretty princess given back?”

Hongjoong should head back to his office before he’s caught but…he needed to know the details.

“San, she doesn’t know how.”

Wooyoung’s response made San groan and Hongjoong fought back his own.

“She’s a fucking angel your girlfriend.” San huffed his crush on you not concerning Wooyoung as he knew San would never cross the line.

“Dude, when you get to teach her, it’s gonna be so fucking hot.” Mingi sighed, thinking of who to contact for his next hookup. He needed to fuck.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but agree. To teach someone as beautiful and pretty as you, how to use your cute mouth and delicate hands…the fantasy of you between his legs while he sits on his office couch…guiding you while you look up at him for him to lead you…the young pups have a point.

“Okay, can you guys chill and not talk about my girlfriend like that?” Wooyoung lightly scolded his friends. “Anyways, you guys better be on your best behavior for tonight’s practice. I'm driving Y/N home for our date and I really don’t want to have to bail again because Coach isn’t happy with our performance.”

“We’ll do our best,” San spoke for them, sending a pointed glare to Mingi and Jongho, they’re bickering always getting their Coach to overtime their practices. “But coach hasn’t been in a good mood as far as I know.”

Wooyoung swore under his breath, worry bubbling in his chest when he imagined your disappointment and the way your eyes become glassy as you fight back tears. He really didn’t want to make you feel like he didn’t care about you again…he knew you understood his obligations to his team. He just hoped he wouldn’t forget to update you this time and keep you waiting for him.

Hongjoong didn’t stay long after that. He went off his merry way back to his office, wondering if tonight would be another chance to have some time with you again. Be your knight in shining armor if your boyfriend doesn’t pick you up again.

All he needed to do was stay in your good graces.

After all, he just wanted to take care of you…

It began with longer conversations after class, asking how you were doing and if you understood the lecture or not. Then when midterms started to round the corner he would casually stay past campus hours just so that he could ‘by chance’ be finishing up late at the same time you were finished up studying in the library.

But this time, when he found you, the sun was beginning to set and you were in one of the library aisles, in the sections students don’t frequent, on the floor hugging your knees to your chest. Your back was against the tall wooden bookshelf and you were by the window, your head below the window pane as you softly sniffled.

Hongjoong felt his stomach twist. What did your boyfriend do?

“Ms. L/N?” As softly as he could, he called out to you and he saw you visibly stiffen.

“M-Mr. Kim?” You kept your head down, too embarrassed to look up at him because he would see the tears and puffiness in your eyes.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He slowly approached, observing your body language if you would shrink away from him. He kneeled before you. “Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the way it quivered as you wanted to tell him exactly what happened but you were crying over something so silly.

A gentle warm hand softly patted your head, your heart stopping at the touch. Maybe you could tell him everything. Besides…he has been so kind to you and only ever wanted to make sure you were okay. When the two of you spent time together and talked, you would sometimes forget he was your professor and not just a friend.

And yet, your heart couldn’t help but want to be in the palm of his hand, knowing he’d be gentle with it.

When you lifted your head to look at him, the tears in your eyes had Hongjoong almost falling to his knees and wanting to embrace you right then and there. “I’ll take you to my office okay?” He offered, taking out his handkerchief and putting it in your trembling hands.

“O-okay.” You murmured.

With a guiding arm around your shoulders and making sure no wandering eyes would see the two of you, the likelihood being low since it was past class hours, the varsity teams were training and it was a Friday, he led you to his office.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of his office, clutching his handkerchief in your hand, a part of your brain contemplating the idea of being vulnerable in your professor's office. It was highly inappropriate. Should anyone find out—

You were torn from your thoughts when a pair of warm arms wrapped around you so gently. You blinked a couple of times unable to process what was happening and the beating of your heart. Hongjoong cradled the back of your head as he held you close to him, your cheek brushing against his neck.

“It hurts to see you cry.” He whispered, unable to hold himself back from soothing you then he pulled away and led you to the leather couch in his office.

You sat on one end while he was on the other, the gap between you reminding you of the intrusive thought of the distance you and Wooyoung might have soon…

“What’s wrong, darling? You can tell me, you know. I’m always here to lend an ear. Whatever it is I won’t judge you, especially when it hurts you this deeply.”

Hongjoong tried to meet your eyes that were cast down on your fingers on your lap, fiddling with his handkerchief. Was it your boyfriend? He swore if it was Jung Wooyoung he was going to teach that boy a lesson.

Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to speak freely to him.

A moment of weakness?

“I-I overheard Youngie’s friends when I was in the library…they were about to leave for practice and…” you felt that lump in your throat creep up higher, making you want to sob again as you remembered what they said. “They said that they felt b-bad for him.”

Bad for him?

“It’s a bit…tmi…sir. I’m sorry it’s hard to speak about it.” You stared at the edge of your skirt, feeling the shame and embarrassment you had felt earlier crawling on your skin.

“Ah? TMI.” Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest, trying to play it off as if it’s nothing to make it comfortable for you to tell him. “Well, Ms. L/N, we are two adults, aren’t we not? Plus, it’s after university hours. I’m here for you right now as a friend and I’d like to help soothe your troubles if you would let me.”

It was almost too easy the way you caved into his words. Jung Wooyoung did not deserve a sweet girl like you.

“Youngie’s teammates…said they feel bad for him because I haven’t…” you paused, heat blooming in your tear-stained cheeks. “I haven’t slept with him.” Then you felt that ache in your heart return. “I don’t want to lose him, Mr. Kim. I love him so much. I-I want to be a good girlfriend.”

Hongjoong’s heart broke. His beautiful wilted rose. How dare those dumb boys speak so ill of you?

“You’re a good girlfriend I’m sure, Ms. L/N.” He reassured you with such calmness, his words made you perk up a little. “You didn’t hear these words from Wooyoung himself right?”

You nodded.

“But even though…I still want to make him feel good. He always makes me feel…” you trailed off, realizing that you were talking about the intimate things you and your boyfriend do. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with Wooyoung like that…I just…I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Disappoint him how?”

“Wooyoung has been with girls…with experience. He’s my first boyfriend and he’s the first man to ever touch m-me…kiss me…”

Hongjoong was fighting back the attraction grew the more you spoke about your lack of experience. He couldn’t believe those boys had you questioning your worth all because you were scared to go all the way with your boyfriend.

“I-I even tried watching…videos…on how I can do things for Wooyoung…but I just am too scared to initiate it. What if I do something wrong and it goes horribly?”

“You shouldn’t need to worry about that. I’m sure your…” Hongjoong held himself back from saying what he said with jealousy. “…boyfriend would be more than happy to teach you. Has he offered to?”

You shook your head.

“Ah…I see.” Hongjoong sat back, trying to think of what to say next. “I’m pretty sure what you lack is practice…” he trod carefully, gauging your expression with each word he was choosing. “You’ll never know til you give it a try. With everything in life, you learn as you go.”

He watched as you took each word seriously, a rather sweet pensive look on your face as you nodded at his advice. Hongjoong hoped he didn’t cross the line by saying that and made things awkward between the two of you.

“If I may speak as another human being helping another,” Hongjoong continued, hoping to calm your stormy mind. “I just hope you don’t feel pressured to do anything with your boyfriend or anyone. It’s very sweet of you to want to do something this intimate with someone you desire but I’d rather you won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, going over all the caring and sweet affirmations Mr. Kim was giving you. How was it you felt so safe with him? He was too kind to you…yet you enjoyed the company he gave.

When Wooyoung wasn’t able to take you home from extended practices and last minute cancellations and texts, Professor Kim was always there to somehow salvage the day. To stop the breaking of your heart with his warm smile and effort to get to know you and make conversation.

“M-Mr. Kim…”

You finally spoke. Hongjoong smiled warmly at the call of his name. He observed how your cheeks began to flush. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you hesitate to continue. You suck in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be brave and look him in the eye.

“Could you guide me?”

Nothing but your voice rang in his ears at this moment. Hongjoong was shocked by the question. Was it a question? With the way your eyes were bleary and glossy, how your lips were trembling, and how flustered you appeared. It was a plea.

“Ms.L/N….” He tried to resist as much as he could, knowing that if he were to cross the line, he wouldn’t be able to go back. You were his forbidden desire. If he were to take a bite, he would want nothing more than to consume you.

You knew what you asked was silly and inappropriate, and a part of you regretted asking but if you were to leave this room right now, all you would be able to think about was how Wooyoung’s friends talked about you and wonder how much Wooyoung shared to his friends about yours and his relationship.

Mr.Kim looked speechless and flustered from what you asked of him. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

“Mr.Kim, I-I’m so sorry,” you quickly blurted out, trying to salvage the odd atmosphere. “Please forget everything I said. Thank you so much for comforting me—

"Are you sure you want me to help, Ms. L/N?” Hongjoong stopped your rambling, taking your hand that you hadn’t realized was trembling from nerves but the moment he spoke and he touched you, your body found a sense of calm. “I just don’t want to make you do anything you’ll regret.”

Oh, he wanted to help.

“I-I wouldn’t have asked anyone else but you...I feel safe with you.” You mumbled shyly, staring at his pretty hand holding yours, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles.

“Your trust in me is something I shall cherish and I wouldn’t dare break it.” He looked you in the eyes as he said that, the warmth and intensity of them made your heart flutter. “I promise I’ll keep it strictly professional and I’ll make sure to put your comfort first.”

Your heart fluttered again. “O-okay.”

“How would you like this to go?”

“I-I’m not sure…Wooyoung usually takes the lead whenever we do anything more than kissing…” you were speaking so softly, it was pulling at Hongjoong’s heartstrings. You were so precious. “I wouldn’t mind you taking the lead…teach me how to make Wooyoung feel good.” You squeezed his hand nervously and he kept his soft smile on his face, hiding his excitement.

You’ll let him take the lead?

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with okay?” He caressed your cheek fondly, forcing himself to not brush your lips with his thumb. “Tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

“Thank you, sir.” You whispered, feeling all tense as he got closer.

Sir? Were you trying to kill him? He scooted closer, your knees touching his own. “Do I have permission to touch you, darling?”

The pet name made you feel just a little bit more hotter. The way he said it, his voice a low purr, made you feel things you thought you’d only feel with Wooyoung.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Experimentally, he slowly glided his hand up the side of your thigh, the sweet gasp falling from your lips making him smirk against your neck. He brushed his lips against your neck, before whispering in your ear. “You’ve watched videos as research, correct?”

You stuttered out your response, feeling your body grow warm with the way his hand smoothed up and down your thigh, never going higher than where your skirt stopped. “I did…” Was it wrong that you wanted his hand to move higher?

Hongjoong held back from kissing your neck, testing the waters of what exactly he could do to you. His hand moved to your waist now, caressing the curve of your side then stopping so that his thumb was just below the underside of your bra covered chest.

“Why don’t you show me what you learned, hm? Then I’ll guide you along the way.” He suggested, his tone going just a little lower than usual.

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, between your professor's trousered thighs, your eyes looking at him with such uncertainty and the willingness to learn.

“Don’t be shy. I’m sure you won't disappoint,” Hongjoong reassured you, petting your head lovingly while his thoughts were going wild at the mere sight of you all cute and demure between his legs.

“O-okay.”

As you had watched and observed, you placed your hands on his thighs. They trembled a little. What if you messed up here too? You shook the thought away. Professor Kim was going to guide you. You’ll be okay and then you’ll be able to make Wooyoung feel good too.

All of this was for Wooyoung.

You slowly slid your hands up his thighs feeling the smooth fabric of his trousers as you recounted the videos you had seen. You remembered how the woman in the video would trace her fingers over the man’s groin…but was Hongjoong even…turned on?

You remember how stiff Wooyoung would get when you were on his lap as you two made out, his hands running up and down your sides then over the curve of your ass, squeezing it.

Do you need to kiss Mr. Kim too?

Before asking, you experimentally softly placed your palm against his groin, blushing to find that he was hot and rather stiff through his pants. A shaky breath escaped him and you retracted your hand.

“W-was that not okay?”

“It was fine,” he managed a smile for you, getting hard at just how shy and sweet you were. “You’re doing fine.”

“O-okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, gliding your palm over his clothed groin before sliding higher, your other hand joining to unbuckle his belt.

Each gentle and inexperienced touch or ghost of your fingers over his crotch was making his cock twitch to life. It was so easy for him to be turned on…well…because it was you. It was endearing how focused yet nervous you were and once you tugged his briefs down low enough for his cock to spring up, your eyes stared at his length.

From his reclined position on the couch, his legs spread to accommodate you, he was able to notice the way your thighs squeezed to tether at the sight of him.

Your face was hot as your eyes took in the sight of his cock. It was way more intimidating to see one in person than on a screen…was it odd for you to think it was rather pretty? The head was a soft pink and it glistened with something that made your tongue somehow itch to want to try and wrap your mouth around him. Would he fit in your mouth? Would he fit in— you stopped yourself from thinking that. You can’t go all the way with Mr. Kim, you were going to do that with Wooyoung.

Feeling his warm gaze on you, you gently wrapped your hand around his length. The feeling of him hot and heavy in your palm, the girth of him, made your core pulse.

Hongjoong bit his lip at the gentle touch, the smoothness of your palm, and the dainty way you held him making him sensitive to whatever you were doing. He knew it wasn’t on purpose that you were prolonging any sort of movement, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Tell me what you learned,” he managed to speak calmly. “Or what you observed.”

Squeezing your thighs together and inching closer to get into a comfortable position, you thought of what to answer. “In the videos…the girls take their partner in their mouth…and some just move their hand…I'm not sure what to do next, I’m sorry.” You looked away, embarrassed.

This was exactly why you never initiated it with Wooyoung. If you did and you messed up or did not even follow through, he would’ve mentioned it to his friends somehow in their talks.

Hongjoong saw how nervous you were and tried to suppress the desire to command you what to do and how you should do it, he placed his hand over yours that was softly holding his cock. He couldn’t be mean to you…as much as he wanted to completely control you and make you feel pleasure that would have you falling apart for him, he wanted to be gentle with you.

“I’ll guide you, okay?” His other hand petted the top of your head, making the nerves yo I had been feeling dwindle. You nodded.

“You have to spit on it first, sweetheart.”

His words made your eyes widen. The dirty notion was embellished with a sweet term of endearment. Hearing it from him, from the mouth where only kindness, care and knowledge was all you heard come out of it, made you feel warm.

“Spit on it?”

“I know it sounds odd but it’ll help. I’ll guide you on how to use your hand first. Don’t be shy, darling.”

His encouragement only made you want to do as he says. You told yourself it only feels weird because you’ve never done it before and Mr. Kim was kind enough to help you be more confident when the time comes for you to do it with your boyfriend.

Leaning over, you collected your saliva and spat softly. Hongjoong bit back any sound that dared escape him at the moment not ready to break the promise of being professional for your sake but the warmth of your spit and how shyly you did it turned him on even more.

“Now,” he guided your hand. “Spread it around with my precum like this.” He loosely moved your hand, letting your dainty fingers be covered by the mix of your spit and his precum. “It’ll be easier to move your hand this way, it’ll feel good.”

You nodded, feeling the slickness against your palm and how it now easily glided along his length with his hand still over yours.

“You have to hold it just a little tighter.” He closed his hand over yours a little tighter but not too tight but just enough to tell you how much pressure you should be applying.

“L-like this?” You adjusted your grip and slowly while your hand moved in slow up and down motions, he removed his hand and a deep sigh of bliss left him.

“Just like that, sweetheart…just like that.” His voice dipped lower and his head rolled back a little, giving you the perfect view of his sharp jawline and pink lips.

Your eyes kept shifting from his face and to his cock in your hand, entranced somehow by the idea of how he was feeling good by just your hand. Watching a video was completely different from actually doing it. You recalled the way a girl in a video would twist her hand as she glided her hand up and down, and you decided to try the motion.

Hongjoong hissed out a curse at the new movement. “That feels good.” His hips bucked up a little, pushing his cock up in your hand.

Feeling a little braver, you leaned forward to press your lips on the head of his cock, kissing it and feeling heat surge to your core at how warm the tip was against your lips.

Hongjoong lifted his head from its thrown back position to look at you, the sudden sensation of your soft lips on his cock turning him on further.

“You want to try that already?” He asked, his hand gripping the armrest of the couch when your doe eyes looked up at him so innocently, your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and nodded, it was driving him crazy. It was getting harder and harder to retain any sense of composure. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me what you learned. You’re already doing so well. You look so cute like this too.”

His words of praise and compliments made both your heart and core throb. It made you try even harder to please him. You wondered if it was okay that you were getting wet. You could feel your slick sticking to the gusset of your panties and against the lips of your pussy.

Hongjoong moaned softly when he felt your hot tongue swirling around his cock head. He twitched within your hand continued their rhythmic twisting and up and down rhythm. He watched as you tasted him. He could see the way your brows furrowed at the taste and when he felt you take more of him in your mouth and suckle at the sensitive tip of his cock, you were making it harder for him to not buck his hips up into your pretty mouth.

“You doing okay?” He asked, gently placing his hand behind the back of your head, caressing you.

You nodded, humming, the vibrations of your sound adding some extra pleasure to the way you were giving him head.

“F-fuck, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”

The way he said that made your pussy clench. Why did that have some effect on you? It sounded so hot coming from him and it made you want to please him even more.

Eventually, you took what you could of him in your mouth, fighting back your gag reflex and bobbing your head shallowly along his cock. Your hand continued to jerk what you couldn’t fit of his length in your little mouth. You were aching so bad, you couldn’t help but let your free hand slide between your thighs to find your pussy, surprised at how wet you were. It was easy to spread your arousal all over your cunt and begin massaging your clit the way you liked, settling for the friction of your fingers.

Hongjoong noticed your dainty hand between your legs. The sight of you suckling and bobbing your cute head up and down along his cock, and touching yourself was sending him to the edge. Plus your lips tinted with pink gloss were mixing with your saliva as you continued to suck him off. You were so fucking cute.

“I’m close darling. You’re doing so well. You had nothing to be so nervous about. F-fuck.” He shuddered when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you squeaked so adorably, the sound muffled. What a cute little slut you were touching yourself as you stuffed your little mouth with his cock. Though he was saying such sweet praises, deep down he wanted to fuck his cock into your mouth and watch you cry from taking him. He was betting you’d look up at him with wide pleading eyes with tears as you let him use you as his personal cock sleeve.

The mere thought of that sent him over the edge and without warning, he came. A small squeak left you as sudden hot spurts of cum spilled into your mouth. You latched off of him in surprise, your hand still pumping him as he came. His moans and the way his head was thrown back, made you stop touching yourself so you could focus fully on the way he climaxed all over your face.

“Fuck!” He groaned as his hand that was cradling your head gripped your hair and his hips bucked up into your hand, riding out his high. You whimpered as he tugged at your hair, the sensation making your clit throb. Why did that feel good? Why did having his release on your cheeks and in your mouth, turned you on?

“Open up, darling. Let me see.” Hongjoong tugged your hair back almost forcibly, his gaze almost predatory, it scared you a bit. You’ve never seen such a dark, menacing yet charming expression on your sweet and kind professor.

You parted your lips and he smirked.

He wondered if you knew just how cute and ruined your look right now. Pink gloss smeared over your lips and your cheeks flushed and stained with his white sticky cum, and the best of all, his seed was on your tongue.

He wished he could take a picture.

You didn’t realize you were breathing slowly as your heart was racing and he stared down at you with a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place.

“You look so pretty like this, darling.” His grip on your hair loosened and his hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb dipping into your mouth as you still obediently kept your lips parted for him. He smeared more of his cum all over your lips and chin, finding the idea of him on your skin so hot…it’s like he marked you. “Such a good girl.” He cooed and you didn’t know why you did what you did but you swallowed his salty release, and his reaction made it all worth it. “What a perfect girl you are.”

His praise only made your heart flutter, his words only feeding that part of you that wanted to please him…to please Wooyoung.

“D-do you think Woo will like it?” You asked, your voice a little hoarse as you sat there on your knees, looking up at him so sweetly.

Hongjoong held back from rolling his eyes at the mention of the boy who didn’t deserve you. He masked his annoyance with a smile. “He’ll like it, darling. You did really well. I mean it.” He took his handkerchief and began to clean you up, gently dabbing your cheek.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you couldn’t stop the way a smile grew on your face at the approval from your most trusted mentor.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kim—

“Hongjoong.” He cut you off with a gentle smile, looking at you lovingly.

“What?” You stuttered that same feeling you felt earlier, the confusion of the same way he made your heart flutter like Wooyoung does.

“You can call me Hongjoong when it’s just the two of us, darling. I think with how close we’ve gotten…I’d like you to call me by my name. Don’t you think we’re rather close?”

There was something about his eyes that captivated you. It was so magnetic it was hard to not be completely wonderstruck and in control of that powerful gaze.

All you could do was nod.

“That’s a good girl…” he cooed, smiling warmly. “Perhaps, you need more guidance. You want to be a good girlfriend for your Wooyoung right?”

You did, you wanted to be the best girlfriend for him.

“I do…”

“Sometimes what you see online is not entirely reliable. I’m offering you…private lessons…doesn’t that sound good for you?”

You nodded, letting him pull you up on and onto his lap, gasping when your core pressed against his thigh.

“I’ll teach you all there is to know. I want what's best for you and for you to know exactly what you’re getting into.” He ran his hand up and down your thigh, slowly. “You don’t want to disappoint Wooyoung, right?”

“I don’t Sir…” you said so quickly.

So innocent. So naive. So dumb. So perfect for him to ruin.

He never thought he’d get to this point.

All this time, he has only ever admired you and desired you from afar. He kept his reputation as a well-loved and kind professor so that no one and you, especially you, would ever question his motives.

“Now, I think we should try this again. You did really well but I can teach you a little extra something that will make your boyfriend so, so, so happy.”

feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly fangirl with you and I love feedback. It keeps me writing.

special tags : @khjcs @skteezcursed @caityelise99

#hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

2K notes · View notes

docholligay · 5 months ago

Note

Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

1K notes · View notes

bweeeb · 4 months ago

Text

THREE AT ONCE

Part two of:

I hope I don't disappoint those who were really hoping for this part two, sorry for the mistakes and poor writing. Enjoy.

Warnings: foursome, sex with dirty words, Reader being a slut for the boys but them also being for her, Smut, Draco maybe staying aside... i don't know I felt that after I wrote it (my apologies). Read on your own.

Summary: Rumors about you and your best friends were spread around Hogwarts and what better than not to make them come true to strengthen your friendship?

---

Rumors. You were sure that gossip came from a place full of unhappy people at a time when no one was happy. However, you were used to them and never thought you'd have so much fun with one.

— I think you should go for it. I wouldn't do it myself, but if I were you, I would.

You heard Pansy mumbling beside you and Daphne in the hall way.

— So, you're saying I'm a slut and would do it because of that? Parkinson, what the hell are you talking about?

A laugh escaped your lips, and Pansy immediately looked at you with a look of disdain at your interpretation.

— Shut up, you're their best friend, that's what I'm saying.

Pansy said, turning the corner towards the dungeons.

— If I had the same intimacy with them as you do, I'd do it too.

Daphne shrugged, and Parkinson clapped in celebration at her friend's words.

— That's what I meant to say.

— That's not the point, I can't fuck all three of them like a slut.

You argued while climbing the stairs to the common room.

— Oh, shut up. Of course, you can!

Pansy said to you once more, and another laugh escaped you.

— That's the second time you've told me to shut up, Parkinson.

— Listen, Draco Malfoy has a big dick, Mattheo Riddle must have a big dick, and Theodore Nott must have a big dick, live your life, Y/N, fuck them as much as you want.

Pansy shrugged and received two mischievous looks directed at her.

— Did you fuck Malfoy?

Daphne asked, and Pansy laughed nasally.

— Once, yes, and that's why I'm telling you.

Parkinson placed her hands on your shoulders. — They want to fuck you and made it clear, you trust them, they'd never hurt you, if all three wanted to share me, I'd be on all fours on this damn floor.

— You're their princess, Y/N. Enjoy it for God's sake.

That was the last thing said in the conversation before they entered the Slytherin common room and found the boys sitting in front of a fireplace.

— What were you girls talking about?

Mattheo was the first to ask with a sly smile on his face next to Theodore. Pansy and Daphne exchanged looks directed at you, who rolled your eyes and threw yourself next to Mattheo, who wrapped his arm around your shoulders almost immediately.

— What? What was that look?

Theo asked, and the two girls sat on the other couch near Blaise, who was reading a book.

— No.

You denied it to the two girls, who groaned in unison and threw their heads back.

— You totally want it.

Daphne said, and you laughed, shrugging.

— What are you talking about?

Draco grunted, and Pansy looked at you with a raised eyebrow. You immediately thought of the night you told them that Pansy had lost her virginity to Adrian Pucey. The boys kept bugging Parkinson for a month, but in your defense, you thought it was okay to tell, and now you knew Pansy would get revenge... or help you.

— We were talking about the four of you.

— The four of us? The four of us?

Theodore asked, pointing to himself, Draco, Mattheo, and you.

— What were you talking about?

Mattheo asked, opening a sly smile at the situation.

— About you guys having sex.

Pansy said, shrugging, and the three Slytherin boys' eyes fell on you once again like that last morning in your dormitory.

— Oh, and you totally want that, huh?

Riddle asked, lowering himself to your ear, and you scoffed with a smile on your face.

— I don't know, maybe I fantasized about it.

You said and got up from the leather couch while heading towards the stairs, but not before looking at Theo, Mattheo, and Draco and climbing to your dormitory. You knew what you were doing and had let your desires and needs control you just by the desperate look you received from your three boys, but you weren't worried about what it would turn into; you really wanted it a lot.

You didn't wait long until a knock on your door echoed through your dormitory, and you opened it as if you didn't want anything.

— Did you forget something here, boys?

You asked, and your steps moved away from the door when the three wild looks met your eyes. The door behind them closed, and Theodore pronounced "Muffliato" while Draco locked the door, and Mattheo smiled at you, taking small steps in your direction.

— So, you've been fantasizing about us three, huh?

Mattheo said, walking towards you slowly. His steps continued until the back of your knees met the edge of the mattress, making you stumble back and sit on your made bed.

— We all have fantasies, boys.

You said innocently, but contrary to your tone of voice, your eyes said much more than innocent things.

— I said there would be punishment, bellezza.

Theodore was the one who said it, approaching with his Italian accent in his voice, making the center between your legs heat up.

— What have you been fantasizing about, baby?

Mattheo asked with a mischievous smile on his face, looking at you with seductive eyes.

— Maybe I've fantasized about you all fucking me, maybe in my mouth, maybe in my ass, but whatever.

You joked and laughed after your sentence.

— Do you want that, princess? Do you want us to fuck you?

Draco was the one who asked, and his smile widened when he saw the three boys at your feet.

— How much can you take me, huh?

That was the last thing you said before the three of them started taking off their shirts and throwing them carelessly on the floor. Your confidence came from a place you didn't remember existing, and your ass lifted off the bed, hovering right in front of the three of them. You reached out to touch Mattheo's face, leaned in to pretend to start a kiss, and diverted, looking at Malfoy with a mischievous smile. Your hand ran through his blonde hair, causing Malfoy's breath to fail, and then your attention turned to the Italian with big needy eyes for you. You took a step towards him and entwined your hand in Nott's neck, pulling him into a heated, lustful kiss. Nott's hands went to your waist, pulling your body towards his until you detached from him with a funny smile.

— I didn't know you could carry weapons at Hogwarts, Nott.

You said, turning to Mattheo, passing by him, and kissing Draco next, who was more desperate than he seemed. His hands roamed your body, stopping nowhere until you pulled away and looked at Riddle with a provocative smile. He hated being last, and you knew that very well.

— Come here, Riddle.

You whispered, and in less than a second, Mattheo's hands roamed you, stopping under your green plaid skirt. He squeezed your ass hard and lowered your skirt while thrusting his tongue into your throat. With Draco's help, you no longer had your bottom clothes on, except for your red lace panties and the Slytherin Quidditch team sweatshirt.

— Hell yeah, baby.

Mattheo murmured, looking right at you when he ran out of breath. At that point, you started to feel such discomfort between your legs as you had never felt before.

You fell on your back on the bed and propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the three boys taking off their clothes and looking at you from the foot of the bed.

— Can you get on all fours so I can see something, la mia principessa? Theodore asked with a hoarse and lust-filled voice. With a narrowed look, you laughed, shaking your head, and turned around for them to see you on all fours. — She's fucking wearing my name on her back, you assholes.

Theodore laughed, giving your ass a slap before you turned back to face them.

— Points for Theo.

You laughed loudly and saw Malfoy and Riddle roll their eyes while dissipating.

Draco was the first to undress, so when he did, he climbed on the bed and attacked your neck with desire before angrily taking off your sweatshirt.

— Let's get this shit off your beautiful body.

Malfoy murmured, freeing your breasts from a red lace bra that matched your panties.

— That color is Gryffindor's, pff, what nonsense.

Mattheo murmured, climbing on the bed and kissing you before being pulled aside by Theo from the other side of your body.

Mattheo distributed kisses on your shoulder and clavicle while Theodore kissed your lips, and during that, Draco descended his mouth to your panties. He pulled them down your legs and opened them, leaving you exposed to them.

— Shit, she's so beautiful.

Draco moaned, and the other two moaned back when they looked at you better.

— Fuck yeah.

Theodore murmured, imitating Mattheo's previous steps, who was now on your mouth.

A finger from Malfoy ran through your slit and captured your essence on his fingers before falling with his tongue on you and sucking you as you had never been sucked before.

Your hands simultaneously grabbed the boys' hair on you, and your mouth opened against Mattheo's when Malfoy inserted a finger into you and began pumping it in and out at a comfortable pace.

When his tongue found your clit along with your G-spot, you came on Malfoy's face, who continued licking your pussy until he sucked everything he could. When your eyes opened directly to the image of Theodore and Mattheo rubbing against your bed, it made you smile in ecstasy and look at Draco next. You sat up and pulled him into a kiss as he rubbed his cock against you. Pulling away from him, you sat on your heels and saw Theo and Mattheo looking at you with their hands on their cocks, dripping pre-cum from the tip. Crawling to Theo, who was at the edge of the bed, you pushed him to lie down and sat on him, as Theodore slid the head of his cock at your entrance and thrust it inside your pussy, stretching you with his huge cock.

— Fuck, Theo. Ugh, your cock, it's... so... big, fuck.

You moaned loudly and felt Mattheo's hands slap your ass as he positioned himself behind you, quickly kissing your shoulder and neck and thrusting his cock into your other hole, making you moan louder and look at Draco, who was masturbating beside you. With a look, you made him stand up and stop at the edge of the bed, standing, where you opened your mouth and took his big cock while Mattheo and Theodore were deep inside you.

— Look how they let us fill all your holes.

Theodore moaned as he began to move his hips to fuck you deeper than you thought possible.

— Such a good little slut for us, she takes our cocks so well.

Mattheo moaned with harder, not as fast thrusts as he'd like, but he loved seeing how you were writhing on his and Theo's cocks.

— So well, so good for us.

Draco moaned as your tongue ran along his length, and you took him to the back of your throat.

— Holy shit, what a tight pussy, mi amore.

Nott moaned, placing his hands on your waist and increasing the speed on you, the wet sounds echoed through the muffled room, and the fast rhythm of Nott made you choke on Draco's cock, who placed his hands in your hair, forcing you to suck him again when he was about to cum in your mouth.

— She is the hottest thing in this world, fuck, I could warm my cock in her all night long, fuck.

Mattheo said, and that made your pussy tighten around Theodore's cock, who fucked you like his life depended on it. In a smart move, Mattheo pulled his cock out of your ass and began to jerk off on your butt, cumming along with Draco, who came in your mouth when Mattheo came on your butt, which now bounced harder in Theodore's hands.

— Swallow my cum, princess.

Draco moaned, and you swallowed as he asked, showing your tongue to him along with a smile that was quickly replaced by an open 'O' shape when you felt your orgasm approaching on Theodore's cock.

— I can feel you tightening around me, cum on my cock, make a mess on my cock, princess.

Theodore moaned, and you screamed in ecstasy as you came on Nott's cock, who continued thrusting deep inside you.

— Fuck, Theo. Yes. Ugh, please.

— Can I cum inside you?

He asked, and you bounced harder on his lap.

— Cum inside me, Nott. Fuck, cum all your cum inside me.

You moaned loudly, and as soon as Theo came, you were grabbed by Mattheo, who sarcastically laughed and lifted your butt into the air towards him. His cock was inserted into your pussy, wet from Theo's cum dripping from you, and with a high-pitched moan, you rested your forehead on Theodore's abs, who was panting beneath you. Mattheo thrust a few times roughly into your pussy and then pulled his wet cock out, thrusting it into your ass with force and ease before starting to fuck you hard. You knew he wanted this from the beginning, to torture you.

— You're our slut, baby. So wet, so tight, and fuck, your pussy is as good as your ass.

He moaned and thrust his cock to the base into your anus with force. The first time you did anal, you felt nothing but discomfort, but now, you wanted nothing more than for him to keep fucking you hard.

Mattheo's hands fell on your butt, making him push harder inside you, the extremely wet sound echoed through the room, and your moans were the boys' reason for ecstasy.

— Matty, I can't.

You moaned as your orgasm began to approach, and Mattheo fucked your hole with increasing force.

— Oh, you can, pretty girl, take all my cock, cum on it like you did for Theo and Draco. You can handle it.

He moaned, giving long, deep thrusts inside you.

— Fuck. I'm cumming.

You screamed, and he slapped your ass as he rode you.

— That's it, baby. I'm gonna fucking cum inside you. You like that, huh? Mm-hmm, you like it. You're a slut.

Mattheo moaned and laughed as he felt you tightening around him.

— Suck our boy while you cum, pretty girl.

He commanded, and you bent down to take Theo's cock, which was hitting your face. You took Theo's cock into your mouth and sucked hard while hearing Draco moan and jerk off on you.

Theodore's hands fell on your hair, and you moaned against his cock when Mattheo began to moan and give sloppy thrusts inside you, indicating he was cumming in seconds. The vibration of your mouth on Theodore's cock made the boy cum in your throat, face, and breasts while you came on Riddle's cock, who was pouring his orgasm into you deeply with his cock.

— Take all my orgasm, that's right, take it, good girl.

He moaned, finishing inside you, and at that second, Malfoy came once again on you, making you moan and fall against Theodore, exhausted.

— Fuck. I think I've never been fucked as well as you guys did.

— Let's clean you up, pretty girl.

said while quickly kissing you on the lips with the other boys right behind, placing soft kisses and affectionate words on you. And the best of all for you was...you had fucked them three like a slut but nothing would change between you and them.

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

Totally ashamed of what I wrote 😭🤣 I tried to tag the majority who asked, if you didn't want to be here I'm sorry 😭

@feistyfox47

@jrinbb

@samgonecrazy

@littlemadamred

@mynerdcloud

@shaquilles-0atmeal

684 notes · View notes

star-sim · 10 months ago

Text

hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim

☆ youtuber! super down bad! bf! jake x youtuber! fem! reader ☆summary: jake sim was youtube's cut-throat, horror creator, known for his dark video style. meanwhile, you were the cutesy beauty vlogger, lighting up every algorithmically generated home page you touched. no one would have expected you two vastly different people to know each other, let alone be in a long-term relationship. ☆ genre: fluff, youtuber! au, secret dating! au, established relationship, suggestive, im sorry im never letting the ytber au go, cutesy!reader, jake is SO down bad its kinda painful #patheticmen ☆warning(s): no, just fluffy, also reader is really feminine and girly in this ☆ word count: 13.4k words ☆ wrote half of this in spanish class so im sorry if there are mistakes, first time writing established relationship in full, kinda nervy

Jake Sim was many things.

One of the most popular and well-respected content creators on Youtube was one of them.

As Jake's nimble fingers darted across his keyboard, his other hand rested firmly on his mouth, he thought that the blue light emitting from his computer screen should burn his eyes. Except, it didn't. Despite what most people thought, 90% of being Youtuber was just simply staring at a computer screen, rather than being in front of a camera lens. The man felt his nose prickle before he let out a soundless, but satisfying, yawn. He leaned back against his office chair, stretching his neck and arms before he rubbed his eyes.

There was a reason that he was an extremely respected creator on Youtube.

For one, the production quality of his videos were high. Down to the Closed Captions or his camera's grain, Jake's attention to detail was immaculate. Not to mention, the content itself was magnificent.

Whenever people asked Jake what he did for work, it was hard for him to answer.

He'd said that he made horror content, but he'd only earned incredulous looks, like he was a madman. Even then, "horror" content wasn't the correct description.

In short, Jake liked to make videos about obscure things. Which just so happened to be a little spooky. Sketchy true crime cases, searches for lost media, strange Internet phenomena, government cover-ups— Name anything a little bit eerie and Jake probably already covered something of that sort on his channel. Given the nature of his content, Jake almost always maintained a serious tone, but when the opportunity came to offer his opinion, he liked to relay it in a straightforward way.

Another reason why he was so regarded was because of his content style. He preferred using darker colors, having a crisp microphone that picked up every rasp of his deeper voice. When he had camera shots, Jake liked to be in a dimly lit room. Unfortunately, his room was dark, too.

This all combined together to create a singular image for Jake: the cool, high-quality, but a little bit scary, guy that likes to make videos about scary topics.

Now cracking his knuckles, Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Although he could easily export his upcoming video now and upload it, garnering millions of views, he refused to. There was something missing from it; it needed a little umph, a little embellishment to really pull things together. If there was one thing about Jake, it was that he'd put quality over quantity any day.

Jake is torn out of his thoughts when his phone, long forgotten next to his mouse, lit up. Usually, when he worked long afternoons like this, he silenced his phones in order to maintain focus.

However, there was always one exception.

You.

pretty girl: hi babe, do you think you can help me take promo pictures later?

The moment that Jake saw your contact show up, he picked up his phone immediately. His fingers tapped his screen, quickly responding to you.

me: yeah i can do it rn if you want

pretty girl: if youre busy, it doesn't need to be today, it can be tomorrow or something

pretty girl: oh

pretty girl: are you sure?

Of course he was.

Jake was already shutting off his monitor, grabbing his keys and shoving his feet into his shoes at your first message.

me: yeah i'll come over right now

You were Jake Sim's girlfriend. But other than the people in your personal life, no one else knew that.

Not that either of you minded.

Like Jake, you were a Youtuber. Except, your community was the complete opposite from his.

Your niche was cute makeup and lifestyle. Your videos had cute, blushy sets, characterized by cute plushies in the background and pretty, pink decorations. When you weren't making makeup tutorials or "get ready with me's," you were giving your viewers small sneak-peeks into your life. Whether it be your rosy morning skincare, or your sunny afternoon cooking attempts, or your illuminated late night thoughts, your content was light-hearted, soft, and personable.

And if you weren't doing any of those things, you were modeling.

You were a beauty influencer, so you had sponsors from different makeup companies and such. What was most distinguishable from your personal brand was that you were one of Sanrio's biggest ambassadors. If there was someone that was the living embodiment of Hello Kitty, it was you.

Your personability, and your ability to feel authentic to your viewers, was a key factor in your large viewerbase. And what contributed to that the most was the fact that you had no idea how to use a camera. One would think that a content creator would know how to use a camera, but you were somehow the exception.

Not a problem!

Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!

Who was basically the master of content creation and film, in your opinion.

"Jakey!" you pounced on your boyfriend the moment he appeared at your apartment doorway. You threw your arms around his neck, immediately peppering his neck and cheeks with kisses. You heard him let out a few chuckles, feeling the rumble of his strong chest as he did.

"Geez, babe, let me take my shoes off first," Jake teased you, taking in your sweet strawberry perfume. You immediately peeled yourself off of him, your lips forming a cute frown.

"Shut up," you murmured, punching him on the arm while you jutted your bottom lip out. The lip tint and gloss on them shined, which made Jake grin. And when you noticed that he was staring at your lips, you gave him a gentle shove before saying again, “Shut up, Jakey.”

There it was, his favorite thing about you.

You were so, very, really, undeniably, mean to him.

Okay, that sounded weird.

But it was the truth.

Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—

You were just the cutest, and could barely contain your feelings for Jake, so you'd get all cuddly and affectionate with him. He'd tease you about it, so you'd get all shy and flustered, and you would begin to be mean to him. You'd call him stupid or annoying, and you'd tell him to go away but make no effort to resist his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And then he would get to tease you more, until you were so embarrassed that you relented and let him kiss you.

How could he not resist teasing you?

You were always so pretty, with makeup or not, and it was easy to tease you since you got embarrassed so easily.

Even if he was holding his most expensive camera in his hands, he'd still let you pounce on him, if it meant that he got one extra kiss from you.

You led him to your bedroom. It had the same sweet, strawberry scent as you. Your room was pink, and along the walls were shelves, all filled with the many, many plushies that Jake bought you. Plopping onto your bed, Jake watched as you dug around your filming desk.

"Sooo," he started, "You're gonna do a promotional post on Instagram?"

You hummed. Sanrio recently launched a new line of lip tints, and they sent you their newest ones to review and promote.

"I already made a review, and it's going to go up later," you said, digging through your drawers. "I want to make a promo post, too, y'know?"

You let out an 'a-ha!' as you found what you were looking for. It was a tube of lip-tint, the newest one from the collection. You then touched up your makeup a little more.

Jake watched you in awe. The way you applied lip gloss and brushed setting powder (or was it blush? he didn't know anything about makeup) onto your cheeks was so mesmerizing, as you weren't already so captivating to him.

Finally, you stood up, straightening out your outfit. You puckered your lips, and when you noticed Jake staring at you, you gave him a little twirl.

"How do I look?" you asked.

Jake, with his camera in hand, pointed the lens at you. He looked through the viewfinder.

"Beautiful."

As always.

The shoot went smoothly. As you always did when Jake was your photographer, the two of you drove to the film studio, renting out a room for a good hour. Jake was a pro with the camera and you were an even bigger pro at modeling. Other than a few compositional edits or changes in exposure, you and Jake were done as soon as you started. The two of you decided that you’d go back to your place, cook dinner together, and maybe watch a movie.

Except that got delayed.

“Y-You’re so annoying, Jake,” you struggled out. You were in the back seat of your car, legs thrown over your boyfriend’s hips, his soft lips connected to your neck. Your fingers gently tugged on his hair, you yourself pressing soft pecks against his forehead and temples. It started because you gave Jake a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you,’ which spiraled into a makeout session in your car.

“What,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flickering up to yours. “You said you’d do anything to express your thanks for me.”

Jake kissed your neck again, before trailing up your throat to your jaw. Your fingers raked through his soft hair, pushing his dark locks out of his face so that you could see his face clearly. Jake reached up, took your hand out of his hair, and instead held your palm against his cheek, nuzzling into your warm hand. The way your eyes widened into saucers, lips parting, in response made the man’s lips curve upward.

“W-Well I thought you’d ask me to hug you… or something,” you said sheepishly, your voice soft as your boyfriend’s actions flustered you.

Jake grinned to himself internally before pulling away from you altogether.

“Then do you want to stop?” Your eyes widened a fraction. “Then, let’s go hom—“

“No!” you cut him off, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s not!”

You stared at him, brows furrowed, for a few moments, before you noticed the growing grin on your boyfriend’s face. That look you knew too well, the one that said that he was going to tease the everlasting fuck out of you.

Jake pulled you in by the waist, close enough so that your chests touched, noses almost brushing against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off your face, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sure you don’t wanna stop?” His voice was teasing, but you knew better. The earnest look in his eyes, you stared into yours, was filled with sincerity. He gave your waist a squeeze, almost as if to ask, “Do you actually want this?”

“Yes, Jakey,” you breathed against his lips, matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna stop.”

The corner of his lips begin to lift.

“So you better kiss me,” you quipped, gripping his shoulders.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he rasped back, before attacking your lips.

(Later, when you were done, you two went home and went about your plan for the night. Except, you had to yell at Jake to go wash his face, because the sight of your lipstick at the corner of his lips was too much for you to take.)

"Hi, everyone!" you greeted the camera, folding your hands in your lap. With your thick, pink, knit sweater's sleeves falling over your wrists, you shot the lens a pretty smile. It was another normal day on the job of making content.

"As you guys know, VidCon is coming up soon." You pulled your makeup pouch toward your chest, leaning against the edge of your filming desk. "So, let's pack with me!"

Vidcon was an event for people to meet all of their favorite Youtubers. This year, you were invited to be one of the featured creators, given your popularity. As you filmed your "Pack with Me!" vlog, surrounded by ring lights aided by your windows cracked open, you recalled the email you had sent earlier, squeezing your eyes shut.

You see, Jake and you were both invited to VidCon. Since no one else, not even Youtube the corporation or your fellow Youtubers, knew that you guys were dating, Jake and you were given vastly different things. Youtube booked an entire hotel complex for all of its creators, and unfortunately, your room was located 10 floors below Jake's room. And worse, your booths and events were so far apart from each other that you probably wouldn't even see your boyfriend even if he decided to traverse the Convention.

That's what you got for being vastly different content creators.

This year would be the first year that you and Jake got invited to VidCon, and you two wanted to share this experience with each other as much as possible.

Which is why you just shot Youtube one of the most embarrassing emails of your life.

"Hi, Youtube. The hotel complex you booked has a bar, and it is much closer to the top than the bottom. I really want to visit that bar. Can I request a room change so that my room is maybe on the 15th or 16th floors?" except add more formalities and much more discreet language, and that was the email you sent to your employers. You knew that it wouldn't be hard, and that the Youtube PR manager wouldn't reject your request. After all, you were the Sanrio beauty girl. Regardless, you'd gotten a response about an hour ago, and your request was approved, luckily.

As you continued talking to your camera, folding your clothes neatly while chatting to your viewers about updates in your life, you thought about what you and Jake should do at VidCon. It was in the LA area, but you definitely wanted to visit other places in Southern California.

It was no surprise that you and Jake had been more than touchy and close to each other. You were dating. Still, butterflies formed in your stomach as you thought about what you would do with him. Your face heated up at the thought of you and him spending time together in the hotel's rooftop hot-tub. The idea of him sneaking in your room at night, warming you up and pepperinging your cheeks with kisses, made your heart rate speed up, and you could only relish in the thought of exploring LA, Irvine, or wherever Jake wanted to take you with him.

You were a grown woman with a job and responsibilities, but the mere thought of your boyfriend being within the same vicinity as you made you nervous.

Just as you finished folding your clothes, you heard your front door crack open.

"Babe?" you hear Jake's voice call out your name. You turn off your camera to greet him, swearing to forget all of the thoughts you just had. Except, the moment that you locked eyes with him, all determination to not be teased left your body. Your lips wobbled, trying to bite back that stupid, bashful, and lovesick smile that made its way onto your face when you thought about Jake, but your eyes gave it all away. Instead of throwing yourself at him like you usually did, you only reached for the hem of his black T-shirt, playing with it sheepishly.

You mumbled a small, "Hi."

You could feel Jake staring at you, and you could hear the way his lips curve into a smug, shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," you told him, your eyebrows crashing together.

"Baby, I didn't even say anything," Jake said, his hands finding their place on your lower back.

You felt shy and exposed before him. "Well, I know you're going to say something."

Jake grasped your chin, gently making you look at him. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible to avoid those dreamy, caramel eyes. Then, he took your face with both his hands, leaning in.

Was he going to kiss you? Oh my god, he was! Quick! What do you do? You felt like you were going to melt.

Instinctively, your hands tightened on the hem of his shirt, the black fabric scrunching in your fists. You closed your eyes, your lips softly puckering. You could feel him coming closer and closer, until his breath fanned your cheek.

As if he hadn't kissed you a million times before, your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.

Jake ghosted his lips over yours, inching just close enough that he could brush his lip against yours.

And then, he pulled away from you. He took off his shoes, placed down his keys, and made his way into your bedroom, leaving you there standing alone.

Heat spread across your face and neck and ears as you realized your boyfriend had just teased you once again. You hid your face in your palms, letting out a small whine of embarrassment, before recollecting yourself and joining your boyfriend.

"Woah, what's going on here, babe?" Jake asked, standing at your bedroom doorway.��

"Oh." There was clothes and film equipment sprawled across your floor and bed. "I was filming a video."

You saw Jake's expression twitch, before he took your hands in his.

"My bad, was I interrupting something?" He was sincere in how his face showed a small drop of guilt for disrupting your filming. How could someone be such a tease one moment yet be so genuine the next?

"No, it's okay, Jakey," you said. "I mean, I need to finish my video, but I don't mind if you're around."

And that's how you found yourself trying not to burst out laughing as you filmed your video. Jake kept making funny faces at you, that goofy grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Jake, stop making faces!" you laughed, throwing a shirt at him.

He dodged it, throwing his head back into one of the plushies that he bought you. "I'm not doing anything!"

You threw another shirt at him, this time hitting him square in the face. Instead of admitting defeat, Jake only grabbed your shirt, pulling the fabric to his nose and taking a long, dramatic, sniff.

"You smell sooooo good, babe," he said, ignoring your contorted expression, "I think I'm gonna keep this. You won't mind, right?"

"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"

You plopped on top of him in bed. You felt his chest rumble as chuckles left his lips, rolling your eyes at him. You gave his chest a smack, a pout forming on your lips.

"You're so annoying," you mumbled as his hands slithered up to your hips. He gave your ass a pat, gesturing you to adjust your position. You did, sitting up so that you straddled your boyfriend's hips.

"And you're so pretty," he said, squeezing your hipbone.

"Let go of me," you poked him in the chest, but made no attempt to get off of him.

"No."

"I need to finish my video," you pouted, still not moving to get off of him.

"I don't care." Jake instead sat up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his face getting suspiciously close to your boobs. "Just lay with me."

Your fingers ran through his dark locks, before giving them a tug towards your chest. Jake laid his cheek against your boobs like they were pillows, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and neck. The next thing you knew, he was pressing sticky kisses against your chest and neck, soft gasps escaping your lips.

"Sorry, babe," he muttered against the shell of your ear, "I just can't resist you."

You let out a soft "ahhh!" when he bit down on your skin, his teeth brushing against the nape of your neck. Jake briefly pulled away, a smirk making its way onto his face as he admired the red-purple mark on your neck.

"You're just too addicting."

Long story short, your video was still finished and uploaded. As Jake edited his video, he let yours play in the background, your bright voice illuminating his dark room. Somehow, your voice was the only thing that made him focus.

However, when he heard a familiar laugh— his laugh— in your video, Jake stopped in his tracks.

His mind flashed back to what happened the other day in your apartment, when he interrupted you during your filming.

"I don't know if I turned off my camera, Jake," you had purred as Jake's tongue dipped into your collarbone. At that point, both you and him were shirtless, hair disheveled and pupils blown out with desire. Jake remembered the electricity that ran through him as those words left your lips.

"Am I supposed to care?" he had muttered, trailing kisses down your chest. "If they hear us, that's not my problem."

It was almost like you, who edited your video, added that clip to tease him.

Immediately, his cheeks began turning the brightest shade of red possible. If you were here, he would have only coughed and looked away shyly, but since he was alone, his embarrassment spread across his face like a wildfire. Jake almost never showed it when he was flustered, at least when he was around you.

He hid his face in his palms, sucking in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, warmth prickling his skin. You were going to be the death of him. He let out a small, lovesick giggle, one that his friends would flame him for. He couldn't help it, not if it was you.

When he read the comments, still flustered out of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment when no one seemed to notice him.

For some reason, Jake couldn’t help but want people to know that you were his. He knew that you and him kept your relationship private to preserve it, but he still wanted to show you off.

Except, one comment caught his eye.

“Wait, does [Name] have a boyfriend? Who laughed at 6:34?” it read. Jake’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth that spread across his chest as his lips pulled upwards. He almost wanted to jump on his bed and roll around while giggling like a schoolgirl, but he contained himself.

At the corner of his eye, Jake spotted a certain plushie.

As you were a partner of Sanrio, for a time there was a Limited Edition [Name] plushie, clad in pink with a cute, ruffle-lace bow to top it all off. Of course he bought one the moment it launched. Jake preferred his room to be completely dark and black, but he liked to keep that plushie on his bed, and although he’d never admit it, he hugged it when he slept if you weren’t with him.

Would it be wrong of him to tease you back? After all, Jake still had to film the brand deal for his new video.

Would it hurt to position the plushie just enough so that it was in frame?

So that maybe someone would see it.

Vidcon came crashing on you and Jake like a meteor, and before the two of you knew it, you were in the venue, wringing your fingers as the event commenced.

Sometimes, it was difficult for you to comprehend the level of your popularity. Sure, the numbers that Youtube loved to display for you told you that you had millions watching you, but mere numerical figures were simply not enough for you to wrap your mind around.

Your schedule that day was simple: you were going to have a booth that you'd tend to for an hour or two, where your fans could take pictures with you and take a few freebies with them. Then, you'd go to your main event, which was in a smaller venue.

At your booth, where you sat currently, your personal table was set up in a very special way: your table was pink, and covered in a lacy, white tablecloth. Even the wall behind you was specifically painted pink and decorated with various Sanrio-esque decorations. You had stickers that you'd give out, as well as a Limited Edition Vidcon Sanrio plushie of you that people could buy. The pink polaroid decorated with Hello Kitty stickers hung around your neck with a pink lanyard. You genuinely looked like Sanrio and Hello Kitty vomited all over you, but you didn't mind. And plus, that didn't matter, because you were cute either way.

You were hit with pure surprise as multiple groups of fans came your way. The amount of people that came to you, rambling nervously about how much they loved you, how much they looked up to you, how much you inspired them and made their days better, made you feel light-headed. And very warm inside.

Jake was the one that did the talking for you (thank goodness!), but for some reason, you pushed through your usual shyness, instead wanting for people to come up to you and talk.

Your face lit up as one of your fans, a girl that looked around your age, maybe only a few years younger than you, approached you. You could tell by the Sanrio sticker of you on her phone case that she was most definitely here for you.

"Oh my gosh, hi [Name]!" She gazed at you with wide, glimmering eyes.

Your initial reaction was surprise, but then you broke out into a smile. You cocked your head, fingers gripping the hem of your dress, both nervous and excited. "Hi, there."

You fan took one look at your face, and squealed. The way that she giggled, bouncing on her feet as she fangirled over you made warmth spread across your cheeks, getting shy and looking down briefly.

"I'm sorry, [Name]!" Your fan couldn't stop giggling, which you thought was very cute. It was now that you noticed the camera in your hand. "I just really love your content, and I'm just so excited to meet you in real life!"

You blinked at her a few times, before you smile only widened.

"Don't worry about it!" you said, taking her free hand in yours. Your shyness melted away as your fan squealed again. "It really means a lot to me that you came out here to personally see me."

Your eyes flickered over to her camera, squeezing her hand and motioning to it with your other. "Can I...?"

She nodded enthusiastically, so you took her camera. Turn on the 'photo' setting, you posed for the camera, taking multiple pictures of yourself for her. You hoped that that would make up for your shyness. The two of you hugged, and you took many polaroids for her.

Almost immediately, after she left, you were tagged in a Twitter thread. It was that fan, reporting her experience with you.

"She was so much prettier in real life, I thought I was in heaven," her tweets detailed, "And [Name] was so sweet! It felt like I was meeting the real life Hello Kitty."

She posted the pictures you took on her camera, and then the videos. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot, especially at the comments (and the rapidly-accumulating likes and retweets).

"The way [Name] gets so shy is so cute!"

"I don't really watch beauty content but I love [Name] so much."

"She's like an actual Disney Princess."

You loved your fans, you really did. You were grateful for them, and you thought they were very cute.

You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.

Jake was fighting.

He was fighting demons, wars, the little voices in his head.

Did you have to look so pretty today?

Jake's own event was an entire venue away from yours. He had a few events, so after his first one, he took a small break, where he looked through his notifications.

Of course, the first thing he looked at was your texts. They were from a while ago, during his show when he didn't have his phone on him, so he responded to them now. He smiled at your cute texts, expressing how excited and happy you were. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw the selfie you sent him: there you were, in all your cutesy Sanrio glory, smiling so prettily for him. Jake had to clasp his face to hide the stupid, love-struck grin that bled onto his face.

"Oi, what're you giggling about?" Jake was interrupted by Jay, another one of his fellow horror Youtubers.

Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."

When he glanced back at his phone, that dumb grin began to form again.

Jay groaned. "This is so weird. It's like watching Batman smile."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake scoffed.

"I'm sayin' that you're basically Youtube's Batman," Jay scrunched his nose, "And it's weird seein' you all... smiley and stuff."

"I literally smiled earlier!"

"Not in the way that you did just now. I have a bad feeling about it."

"Shut up!"

Jake really tried his best to swallow back his pure admiration for you as he opened his phone screen again, but he failed miserably.

He wished he could see you right now. He loved to see his fans, he loved to talk to them about their shared interest: all things horror and obscure.

But Jake missed you right now.

His heart plummeted to his stomach, however, when he logged onto Twitter, and saw the worst hashtag he could ever think of: #[Name]isSoCute.

He agreed with it. No, he embraced that sentiment with every molecule in his being.

Just... he wished that he could see you right now. When he checked the tag and saw all the cute pictures that people took of you and the sweet experiences they had with you, he frowned— That should be him!

However, Jake actually saw the worst thing to ever materialize when he saw the top video under the tag.

It was a shaky video, starting off with a teenage boy walking up to you. In the background, he could hear your pretty voice in the background, exchanging small greetings and words with the poster. Jake was almost lost in his sheer love for you when his eyes narrowed. The boy in the video let out a little chuckle, before dropping a cheesy pick-up line on you.

"[Name], if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." What made it worse was that you only giggled, leading the boy to drop a few other dumb pick-up lines. The camera panned up to you, showing you all smiley and bashful. Then, you and the boy hugged, before taking a few polaroids together.

Jake almost snapped his phone in half.

He understood better than anyone that you were a content creator just like him. It was part of the job to interact with fans, and given your character, of course you were sweet to them. He could tell that you were perfectly comfortable in the video, and that the kid probably was just joking around with his favorite Youtuber.

But did that stop Jake from mentally lambasting every single aspect of the video? Absolutely not.

Shaky camera, probably filmed on a phone, Jake's hands balled into fists, Fucked up aperture, exposure to low, bad mic.

Was he being a little immature? Yes, and Jake knew that.

Though, Jake would admit that he agreed with a lot of comments and retweets under that post, hearting many of them in agreement.

"[Name] is such a cutie!" one read.

Absolutely.

"I love her so much," another read.

Me too, Jake thought.

"I want her so bad."

Just as Jake's finger hovered over the 'heart' button, he let out a small hmph. Did it annoy him that other people wanted you? Yes. But did he disagree with the comment? Nope. He pressed the "like" button.

He wanted to see you so bad. As Jake was queued up on stage, ready for his second event, he hoped that he could see you soon.

And his wish came true a few hours later.

It was now past noon, and Vidcon was in its (unofficial) intermission period, where a lot of the creators were now taking breaks. As Jake traversed the convention, he texted you trying to find a spot where the two of you could meet.

He passed the many booths and venues of his fellow Youtubers. The layout was unique in the way that Youtubers of similar genres were placed in similar areas. So when he started seeing Youtubers with bright makeup and problematic pasts, Jake knew that he was near you.

And lo and behold, soon he found you. Under the fluorescent light, you still glowed. There was some kind of halo around you as you turned over your shoulder, your face instantly brightening up as you spotted your boyfriend. You had a few fans that you were talking to at the moment, so you tended to them first, while Jake made his way over to you.

You and Jake agreed that you wouldn't make your relationship too obvious at Vidcon, but all of that was left forgotten the moment that Jake saw you.

However, as you ran up to him, people couldn't help but stop and stare.

Why wouldn't they? You were the living embodiment of Sanrio, that one Hello Kitty girl, whereas Jake was that one guy that made scary content and was often shrouded in darkness, dubbed as Youtube's personal Batman. Absolutely no one would have expected to see the two of you interacting with one another, let alone be within the same vicinity.

"Hi, Jakey," you smiled up at him, and Jake thought that he could die right there. With the amount of people staring, Jake had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around you and hugging you.

"Hey, baby," he grinned.

Before either of you could do anything, you and Jake were interrupted by a shrill squeal. You whipped your heads around to see a young girl and her older brother, who still looked relatively young. They explained nervously that the girl liked your content, while the brother liked Jake's content. They were expecting to scour in order for each of them to meet either of you, but were surprised to see you and Jake in one place.

You and Jake took a few pictures with them, both individually. Though, the two of them requested a picture with both you and Jake in the same frame, which you happily did.

When they left, you and Jake shared a look, before going off together.

Vidcon Day 1: Over.

Jake returned to his hotel room, too tired to do anything other than wash up and order room service.

As Jake laid in his half-hard hotel mattress, he scrolled through his phone. He was tagged in a lot of pictures and tweets, and he found himself grinning at a lot of the sweet words his fans left. Although he was tired, he could definitely do this a few more times, feeling invigorated by his fans.

As he scrolled, the trending Twitter hashtag caught his eye.

#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.

Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.

Jake's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came up.

Apparently, people were extremely surprised to see you and Jake so close to each other.

There were so many pictures of you and him taken together from afar just from that one instance earlier, from multiple different angles and distances. Jake would admit, the way he was dressed in all black while you were dressed in cute pinks and whites was almost laughable.

What truly caught his attention were the captions of all these pictures.

"Craziest crossover of 2024."

"I'm crying they legitimately look like Hello Kitty and Batman."

"Jake Sim and [Name] interacting was not on my Vidcon 2024 bingo card."

"This is like seeing two worlds collide, absolutely wild but I'm pleasantly surprised."

For the most part, it seemed like everyone just thought that you and Jake were friends, but it was still a little funny how taken aback the entire internet was.

Then, he saw the picture of you, him, and those two kids together.

"They look like a family," was one of the most popular retweets under that post.

Family.

That word rang through Jake's head, before he buried his face in one of the pillows, giggling to himself. He felt a little ridiculous getting so excited over such a small comment, but he couldn't help it. He felt so giddy inside at the thought of having a family with you, and felt even giddier knowing that people could see it, too.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Jake wasn't going to answer it, too caught up in his flustered-ness, but when he realized that it was you, he quickly cleared his throat, instinctively straightening out his hair (because what if he accidentally turns on his camera?-- he needed to look good for you!).

"Baby," he greeted suavely, as if he wasn't just giggling like a schoolgirl seconds ago.

Maybe it was the fact that it was already getting late, or the fact that Jake barely saw you today, or the fact that you were just so goddamn perfect, but your voice sounded so attractive in that moment.

"Jakeyyy," you whined. "Come over."

His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.

He chuckled. "What for?"

"I miss you," he could hear the pout in your voice. "And I want your attention."

It was rare for you to be so direct with him, and while Jake wanted to melt on the spot, he wanted to tease you a bit longer.

"What's wrong with just being on the phone with me?" Jake's lips pulled into a smirk. "You can just talk to me like this."

"Noooo," you said. "I want— I want you."

Jake tried his best to not crumble then and there, but it was too hard.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Okay then, baby. I'll come over right now."

He didn't miss the cute little "yay!" you let out before you hung up.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Eep! Jake, what are you doing here—?!”

You’re cut off when you realized that you were, in fact, backstage of one of your events. Today was the second day of Vidcon, and you had just finished up your first event. As you went backstage, carrying the little bags of gifts that your fans got you, you didn’t expect your own boyfriend to be waiting back there for you.

“Hey there, Princess,” he said cheekily, sprawled across the backstage couch. "Miss me?"

He opened his arms up, and you instinctively crawled into them, sitting on his lap and sliding your arms around his neck.

As you did, you eyed him up and down.

Clad in black as always, he wore a black button-up, paired with black slacks, a black belt, and a loose, black tie. That's right: today, Jake was going to have a panel with a whole bunch of other horror creators, ones that transcended the internet— authors, authors that Jake spent his whole life reading and looking up to, which explained why he was dressed significantly more proper today than yesterday.

The way his shirt fit his chest and hugged his shoulders made it hard for you to not stare, and the way that it wasn't buttoned at the top, revealing his honey-tan collarbones, mixed with the scent of his rich cologne, made you feel dizzy.

"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"

On any other day, you'd be embarrassed, maybe even pushing him away, but today, you only nodded your head, humming mindlessly in agreement.

Jake blinked at you, before he pulled you in by the waist so that you were flushed against his chest completely.

"Kiss me," you mumbled, pushing his dark bangs away from his face.

Jake chuckled, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles. "What's with you these days? Getting so bold."

You only leaned into his touch. Maybe it was sometime in the LA air, or maybe it was the vigor that your fans gave you earlier, but all you could do was look at your boyfriend with glossy, wide eyes innocently, watching the way that his resolve trembled.

"Shit," Jake cursed under his breath. "Hold on—"

He grabbed your hips, then tilted your chin so that he could have a better angle. Your lips crashed into one another. Not in the way that a meteor would crash into Earth's delicate atmosphere, but in the way that gentle sea waves crashed onto themselves, dark folds of blue creasing over each other, only to brush up against the foamy seashore, none the wiser.

Jake liked the taste of your lip gloss; it tasted sweet, but not nearly as sweet as you, hungrily squeezing your hips in his hands. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, earning a squeal from you, who tugged on his hair.

When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, chests heaving not for air, but for each other. You stared at each other for a few moments, losing time in each other's eyes, when your eyes trailed down.

God, the button-up and tie were going to drive you crazy.

Without thought, your fingers twirled around his tie, slinking up his chest before you yanked him harshly, jerking Jake toward you abruptly.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated boldness, you attacked his neck, laying sticky kisses all across his skin. One hand laced itself in Jake's hair, keeping a firm hold of his tilted head, while your other hand crept around the buttons of his shirt.

Each soft sigh that Jake let out made you only press more kisses on him. When he let out one particularly loud whine, his arm jerking up to grab at the couch's armrest, you knew that you found the sensitive spot on his neck. You pressed another kiss on that spot, this time sinking your teeth into his skin. The hickey was dark and purple, and when you ran your tongue over it, Jake's hands shot to your hips again.

"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"

Skillfully, your fingers began to slowly unbutton Jake's shirt, just enough that you could see more of his chest.

Your head was feeling fuzzy now, drunk off your desire for him. The way he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp of air he took in, curses falling from his lips, sent electricity coursing through your body.

When you unbuttoned the last button, you noticed the way Jake's eyes were squeezed shut, his other arm resting over them, hands balled into fists as his desperation for you increased.

"Jakey," you said. Jake was going to go mad, the way your voice was so soft and innocent as it said his name, all the while you were kissing and touching him in ways that made him go light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, another whimper escaping his lips. If he looked you in the eye right now, he was sure that he'd burst. "I want you to look at me."

He couldn't refuse you. Immediately, he opened his eyes, the arm strewn over his face dropping back to its position on your hips.

If he didn't die by combustion, Jake was certain that he'd die now— Your pupils were blown out, eyes lidded and staring at him like he was your prey to be slaughtered. He'd seen you wrought with desire so many times before, but the way you gazed at him like he was a piece of meat, like you were going to absolutely ruin him, made him feel weak.

"Watch me, Jakey," your voice sounded so sweet, but your actions said otherwise. You abruptly got up from your seat on his lap, Jake frowning at the loss of your touch. You dug through your purse thrown across the room, returning with a tube of lipstick.

You plopped back onto Jake's lap, making sure that he was watching as you applied it to your pretty, swollen lips.

Then, you discarded it, throwing your lipstick to the side as you snatched his tie again. You brought the black fabric to your lips, staring your boyfriend down as you pressed kisses on his tie. You kissed it a few times, making sure that the color of your lipstick, as well as the shape of your lips, was well-imprinted on it.

Then, you yanked his shirt's collar toward you, pressing a harsh kiss on the fabric, making sure that the shape of your lips was once again imprinted on the fabric.

You looked back up at his face, unable to hide your smugness as his entire expression was painted with red.

"You're so hot—" Jake attempted to force out of his throat, but you only cut him off with a rough kiss to his lips. Without a word, you covered his face, from his forehead to his jaw, with kisses.

You pulled back to admire your work, before you pulled away from him.

"I have to be on stage in a few minutes," you said quietly, your back turned to him as you straightened out your skirt. Dumbfounded, Jake could only stare at you, but when you turned over your shoulder, flashing him a bright, but terribly cheeky, grin, Jake's heart fell out of chest. "I can't be late, right?"

With that, you left your boyfriend, all hot and bothered, on the couch, running off to prepare for your next event.

Almost immediately, Jake melted. He threw an arm over his eyes as he leaned back, letting out a groan.

Was this how you felt when he teased you?

Was he now sexually frustrated? Absolutely. But now he wanted you even more.

After mulling over it for a few minutes, Jake began to go back to his venue. But, as he passed the backstage vanity, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Some of it was obvious to him already: disheveled hair, messed up shirt. But what made Jake want to evaporate was the sight of his entire face and neck covered in lipstick marks. The corner of his lip had a big lipstick smudge, the hickey that you gave him earlier was so dark now, and he couldn't even dare to forget your lip imprints on his shirt and tie.

You little tease.

Jake's last straw was.... right now.

After the backstage fiasco, he didn't get to see you all day. That night, you had a PR event to attend with your fellow beauty creators, so he didn't get to see you at night either.

Which was why Jake was practically glowing with a dark and negative storm cloud as he pranced around the third day of Vidcon. It didn't help that he saw so many pictures of you and fans all across platforms. Poor guy almost lost it when one of your fans' vlogs blew up, the most replayed part being when you let out the most angelic and sweet laughs he'd ever heard in his life.

That should be him!

Meanwhile, Jake sat in the convention room at a panel. Lined up along the table were other horror creators, from authors to Youtubers to filmmakers, similar to yesterday. The way that this specific event operated was simple: fans got to ask anyone on the panel questions and they'd answer, which the entire room got to hear, and later there would be one-on-ones along the panel.

Jake was pulled out of his thoughts when one of the fans said that they had a question for him.

"Jake, your videos take a long time to make, how do you balance work and your personal life?"

Good question. He had a simple principle when it came to how to balance everything. Jake thought about it for a moment, before reaching for his microphone.

"I don't have any outright method," he began. Jake's mind flashed with your image: all the cute messages you'd send him throughout the day, all the times where after hours of rotting in front of his computer screen he could always count on your loving embrace to give him life, all times that he'd tune into your Spotify playlist so that he could be listening to what you were listening. It was easy to balance work and life, if it was you. "But I always put my life before the screen."

The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.

"To be clear, I understand the privilege of getting to work in a profession like mine," Jake continued. "I don't expect everyone to be able to follow my advice exactly, but the more I live, the more I realize that what happens before my very eyes will endlessly matter so much more than what happens in my own little Youtube bubble."

Jake's mouth jumped to you faster than his mind could stop him.

"My beautiful girlfriend is everything to me," he unconsciously began to grin stupidly to himself, "I'd put her above work any day if I had to."

The moment that those words left his lips, the room erupted with gasps and whispers.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend?!" one of Jake's Youtuber friends asked, leading the room to laugh.

Oh.

Shit.

Jake's eyes visibly widened. He clutched his microphone, bringing it up to his mouth, but no words came out.

There was no way in hell that he'd outright deny you, not even in a million years.

"I.... Well..." Jake stammered, trying his best to generate any words at all. He sucked in a sharp breath, a bashful expression making its way onto his face. "That's..."

The room filled with more laughter, alongside the teasing grins and pats on the back that Jake got from his colleagues.

"Oh, so that's what you were giggling about yesterday, lover boy..." Jay, also on the panel, quipped, his brows raised so high on his forehead that it could have touched his hairline.

"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"

Jake's chest felt fizzy. In a weird way.

A part of him felt on-edge. You and him always wanted to keep your relationship secret, for the sake of preserving it. He'd seen what the Internet did to relationships: it tore them apart. It wasn't like he name-dropped you, but he felt so... exposed, so vulnerable.

But at the same time, Jake felt his chest also swell with pride. That's right. He had a girlfriend (a hot girlfriend at that), a girlfriend that he was nefariously down bad for. He hoped everyone knew that, that he was taken and that if there was anyone that he'd spend the rest of his life with, it would be you.

Jake huffed. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend. What about it?"

No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.

You were in the middle of trying your best to get through a conversation with some beauty guru that you knew one thing about: their personal makeup line launch failed horribly and they gave everyone hairy lipsticks. It was difficult, to say the least.

Exchanging your final regards, you quickly rushed back to your booth.

The first thing you saw when you checked your phone was a viral video, in which Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you initially read the caption, but when you watched the video, you had a difficult time processing your feelings.

Did you hate that Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend? … No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. At a certain point, seeing the way that your boyfriend smiled so earnestly made your heart jump out of your chest. The way he was so giddy and smiley (of course, only you could tell that that was how he was feeling— to everyone else it probably looked like he was brooding) made your neck and cheeks warm up.

But, the way that the room erupted with voices and laughter, combined with the quirked brows of everyone on the panel, made you quiver.

You weren’t prepared for it, for how vulnerable you felt as a chorus of “ooh’s” filled the room.

Frankly, there were too many things that you had to focus on at the moment. You'd rather enjoy Vidcon now, and address it later, when things settle down.

Pushing it to the back of your mind, you tucked your phone away, greeting another wave of fans. Though, not without taking an extra second to "heart" the post, adding it to your favorites folder, and rewatching the video one more time, feeling warmth and giddiness filling your chest.

As the cool night air kissed your cheeks, you fought the shy smile that seeped onto your face. It was late now, late enough that you could see all the city lights gleaming, lighting up the dark sky with blotches of all different colors.

There was a Vidcon party for creators, to celebrate the end of the event. Everyone was going. Although it was meant for any creator, there was a very exclusive VIP section; only those of high prestige could get in. Both you and Jake were invited, but upon realizing that nearly the entire hotel complex would be empty due to the popularity of the party, the two of you ditched it.

You'd been wanting to go to the rooftop hottub for a while now, but you never went because you wanted to go with Jake, and it was always too crowded for the two of you to go there comfortably. But now that everyone was gone, it was the perfect time.

Your boyfriend was already waiting for you up there, towel thrown over his shoulder with a shirt and swim trunks. His face lit up the moment he saw yours emerging from the elevator doors, rushing over to you to take your hands.

He paused for a moment. His dark eyes peered at yours, licking his lips before sucking in a sharp breath. Jake gave your forehead a peck, before saying a small "C'mon" and pulling you over to the hottub.

Jake took your towel for you, folding it next to his and perching it on a sunchair.

"They're gonna get off fireworks soon— Oh, damn," he cut himself off as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a bikini top. Your face scrunched up, squirming under his gaze. It's not like Jake has never seen you like this (in fact, he'd seen you in much more compromising positions), and it wasn't like he never complimented you, but as the hottub bubbled, the rosy scent of the water filling the air, you felt shy.

Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off.

"Hey there, Gorgeous," he said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts that had yet to be taken off. Your heart pounded in your chest, fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and groan in embarrassment. You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Jake chuckled softly, before clutching your chin gently, making you look up at him.

"Don't get shy on me now, babe," Jake grinned when your lips pressed into an unconscious pout. He squished your cheek, relishing in the look of confusion painted across your face. Then, his hands fell to your hips, pulling them toward his. "You look so beautiful."

Jake's fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, meeting your eyes for permission before pulling them down himself, revealing your bikini bottoms.

Jake's eyes glazed over your figure, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.

"Sorry," Jake's eyes flickered up to your face. "I can't help it. You're just so hot, baby."

You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.

The two of you got into the tub, sinking into the warm water, you felt your limbs relax.

Vidcon was very fun, some of the most fun you've had in a while. But, it was very tiring, having to be around so many people at a time. And plus, it was hard not seeing your boyfriend whenever you wanted.

You pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear the loud techno music a few blocks away, probably coming from the club nearby. The bright night lights of LA was something that you could only imagine sleeping under.

Other than the sound of the city bustles, the hot tub’s jet system, and the occasional ripple of water, the night was silent.

“How was your day?” Jake broke the calm silence. The way the blueish water reflected off his skin made you dizzy.

“Good,” You cursed your voice for being so small. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was your boyfriend, for goodness’s sake!

Jake loved it when you were shy, but sometimes he was genuinely worried about you. Part of why he loved you was the game that was trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of yours.

He reached out for you, clutching your knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Your stomach churned. For a second, you thought about that video of him admitting that he had a girlfriend. It made your skin crawl, but when your boyfriend squeezed your knee, it all stopped.

"Nothing," you said simply.

There's a few pulses of silence, before Jake clicked his tongue.

"H-Hey—!"

Jake got up from the water, wrapping his hands around your waist, and hoisted you up so that your legs were thrown on either side of the body, before sitting back down so that you were perched right on top of his lap.

Your chest, nearly bare, pressed against his own bare chest in a way that made your heart race. The warmth of his skin as it contacted yours was an addicting feeling, enhanced only by the warm water surrounding you. Either it was the steam from the tub, or the heat collecting between the two of your bodies, that rose to your cheeks.

You rested your hands on his chest, your fingertips barely reaching his broad shoulders, while Jake’s hands stayed in their spot around your waist.

"C'mon," you could feel Jake's warm, strong chest rumble beneath you. "Tell me what's wrong."

Under the sky, his eyes gleamed, like two gems. For the flirt that he was, Jake was too genuine and pure of a person. The sincere worry in his eyes made you feel warm, even warmer than you felt right now. And sometimes that was enough for you.

You leaned into him, your hands coming up to cup his face. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks, to which he let his eyelids fall shut, relishing in the comfort that was your presence. Every time your thumb pressed against his lips, he kissed them, unable to hide the smile growing on his lips when you giggled softly.

At the corner of your eye, you spotted the purple hickey you left on him the other day. That combined with his wet hair, the water droplets temptingly running down his chest, and the fact that you were right on top of him made you feel light-headed.

Your hands left his face, and Jake opened his mouth to whine about it, but was shut up when your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

It was a soft, innocent kiss, the type you gave when you just wanted to be close to him. Jake hummed against your lips, squeezing your thighs. You pulled away first, but Jake gently guided the back of your head back to his, pecking your lips.

"I just missed you," you said. You kissed his cheek. "I really missed you."

"It's only been a day," Jake teased you, but he knew better than anyone that he had absolutely no right to say that to you: he was practically dying each moment he couldn't see you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. You held onto his strong shoulders, eyes glued to his lips. You were feeling needy, needy in the way that you simply wanted to be close to Jake. You were already close to him, but you wanted to be even closer. Your heart thirsted for it.

Then, you heard a rustle, whipping your head around toward the sound.

"Nuh-uh," Jake whispered in your ear, gently holding your face and guiding it to look at him. "I want you to look at me."

It wasn't until a few seconds later that you understood why Jake's tone sounded so teasing: he was referencing you and him the other day backstage.

"Stoppp," you whined, pushing your face into his neck. "You're so annoying."

Jake laughed, his chest rumbling. He stopped to admire the way you were all pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of your body, and he could feel the way your cheeks puffed with air, your lips forming a pout. He poked your cheek.

"You're so cute, baby."

"I know."

"What's with you getting so bold?"

"You're annoying me."

"Awww, you love me so—"

Fireworks fired off in the distance, painting the gray-blue sky with bright colors.

You stayed in your position, only your eyes moving upward to admire the show. However, Jake stayed staring straight at you, practically ignoring the fiery flowers forming in the sky. He gazed into your eyes, watching the reflection in them.

"It's so pretty," you murmur.

"Yeah," Jake felt like he was falling into your eyes, "So pretty."

Just as another round of fireworks shot up into the sky, Jake grabbed your face, crashing his lips onto yours. Your lips fit into each other well, like puzzle pieces, in a way that was so satisfying, almost like you were made for kissing Jake. But for all of the desire and roughness that the kiss was filled with, it was a soft one.

Jake swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, making you squeal and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands kneaded your body, roaming all over you with no intention of leaving a single part of your skin untouched. Likewise, you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his skin to keep yourself grounded.

"Fuck—" Jake mumbled against your lips, only to get cut off by your lips attacking his— "Wait—"

Jake tasted sweet, like candy. He tasted like home, like love, like everything was going to be okay no matter what. How could you pull away now?

"B-Baby, wait—"

"Stop talking, Jakey," you pulled away briefly, only to bite his lip, pulling on the pink flesh with your teeth. You let your tongue roam his mouth, feeling the warmth as your own hands began to wander his toned chest.

"Just kiss me," you breathed.

You kept Jake like this for a few more minutes, trapping him in the heaven that was your lips. But when your bikini top began to untie at the back, something that Jake noticed immediately, he ripped away from you.

Something in his eyes had changed.

Quietly, he tied your bikini top back for you, ignoring your confused (and very breathless) gaze.

"If you keep doing what you do to me," he began into your ear, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

With that, Jake threw you over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up to his feet. He grabbed everything that you brought to the rooftop, throwing your towel over you and ignoring you fussing.

"W-Where are we goin—?!"

"Back to my room."

You were in for a night.

You and Jake were going to stay in LA for a little while longer after Vidcon, so you extended your stay in the same hotel rooms.

After last night, Jake and you fell asleep in his bed.

It was going to be the best, Jake thought. Neither of you had anywhere to be, anyone to put on a show for. The two of you could sleep in for as long as you'd like. It didn't really matter to him, as long as he could wake up with you in his arms, he'd be all right.

Which is why Jake's heart dropped to his stomach when he woke up to you already dressed, pacing around the room nervously.

"Baby?" Jake was alarmed, even as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Baby, what happened?"

You whipped your head over to him, your expression pinch and painted with anxiety.

"Check your phone," you muttered as you chewed your lip.

Jake did as you said. The moment he opened up his phone, his screen was filled with text messages from everyone: his colleagues, his friends, heck even his own mother. He was tagged in about a thousand posts all across his social media accounts, and his Youtube home page was plastered with his face. But not only his face. Your face too.

What caught his eye was an article from a major Internet news source that made its round across every platform.

Its headline?

Jake Sim and [Name] [Last Name] are reported to be dating.

The worst part was the cover page.

It was a photo of you and Jake, together in the hottub last night, with your arms thrown around his neck with your lips connected. When he read more into it, the photo evidence got more and more specific. Close-up pictures of Jake's neck to reveal a hickey and lipstick mark on his shirt, your smudged lipstick, a screenshot of the Sanrio plush in one of his videos, even that clip of his laugh in the background of one of your videos. Of course, the most crucial one was that clip of Jake admitting that he had a girlfriend.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For everyone to know about you, to be able to show you off.

Objectively, this was bound to happen.

But as Jake watched you pace around, your hands shaking as you looked like you were about to cry, he didn't feel the pride that he thought he would feel if everyone knew. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel excited that he got to show you off. All he felt was a mix of guilt and anger.

And before he could reach out to hold your hand and pull you close, you quietly said that you were going to go on a walk, and left the hotel room.

The quiet that filled the hotel room was piercing. Jake stilled in his spot, still groggy and disheveled.

Had he always been like this?

He swore that at the beginning of your relationship, he took every measure to keep it private. Because you asked him to. Because he respected you.

Why did he throw it all away?

He agreed to keep things private.

But now he put you in an uncomfortable position and an even more vulnerable position than you'd ever been in before.

Was he a bad boyfriend? Were you going to break up with him? Would your relationship with him ever be the same? That made Jake's heart palpitate. He couldn't lose you. No, he'd die. But then again, he fucked up, he knew that.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. This was an asshole move.

But he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch for his phone when it ding'd.

The first thing he saw when he opened up Twitter were tweets at him.

And they were surprisingly... supportive?

"Emo boyfriend, cute girlfriend, the best combo!"

"Sending love to both of you. Hope you're doing well. We support you."

"I'm very pleasantly surprised."

"This is literally like Hello Kitty and Batman meeting this is crazy"

But as he scrolled deeper, he found more obscure comments.

"Feel so bad for [Name]. Her boyfriend is a freak."

"He doesn't deserve her."

And the nail in the coffin:

"No wonder they kept it a secret. I'd hide it too if someone like that was my boyfriend."

Why did you keep your relationship with him secret? Jake knew the answer to that: you just wanted to keep your personal life private.

But as Jake plunged himself deeper and deeper into the hole that was the media, he could only imagine alternative answers, and one stuck out.

Were you ashamed of him?

Of course you would be.

You were beautiful in every capacity and just the most perfect person in the world. And Jake was just himself. You were always cute, and sometimes, Jake felt like he couldn't keep up with you. You were far out of his league. His content was considered "niche" and "obscure," of course people, maybe even you, considered him a freak.

He was a bastard, and you were a princess. He didn't blame you for being embarrassed about him.

That's why you were so anxious and against your relationship being exposed, right?

No, no, no!

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jake thought, his hands balling into fists. You wouldn't. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you would never be embarrassed about him. You weren't like that, and he was a fool for even thinking of you in that way. He was being insecure and stupid.

But even so, as Jake let all the guilt, shame, anger, and anxiety settle in while he thought of an apology to you, he couldn't help but feel his insecurity seeping in.

You knew that you were overreacting. You shouldn't have left Jake in there all alone, you should have sat down and talked to him about it.

But there was something scary about having everybody's eyes on you at once, scorning you. You were a Youtuber, of course you knew what it felt like to be watched, but to have the entire internet so hellbent about your personal life made you jump into your own skin.

You just took a walk along the early city streets, you reflected upon yourself.

Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret?

Part of it was privacy. You didn't want the internet to interfere with your personal life, of course.

But it wasn't like you wanted to hide your love for your boyfriend forever. It wasn't like you wanted to stow him away somewhere no one could find him. You were both adults, and you had to start living at some point.

You'd be lying if you said that you never thought about making a cute video with him, if you said you never wanted to post a cheesy anniversary picture on Instagram with a long caption just for him, if you said you never wanted the world to know that Jake Sim was yours.

You remembered the first time you and Jake talked about keeping it private. He was unsure, but because he cared so much about you, he agreed. Had you ever stopped to think about how he felt? You may have wanted to keep your relationship quiet, but did he? To a degree, there was something selfish about you, both now and in the past. You wanted to preserve yourself and your feelings, but you never even considered how Jake felt.

You were afraid, you felt vulnerable and too exposed to the world. But you cared far more about Jake than those fleeting emotions. Desire outweighed fear, you had to see him now.

But as you marched back to your hotel, your mind racing as you came up with paragraphs of words that you'd spill to Jake, you began to notice your worst nightmare.

A group of men, each with massive cameras that had even bigger microphones.

They called themselves the paparazzi, but they were really only middle-aged men that made money off of being invasive towards people half their age.

Maybe you should have worn a hat, or something, as you were in a camera-infested area that was even more infested with celebrities and influencers. As they approached you, you quickened your steps, trying to get as far as you could from them. You tried your best not to make eye-contact, but alas, they got to you before you could escape.

"[Name]?" one of them called out your name, practically running to you.

Oh my god, you thought, ignoring them as you sped up. Please not right now.

"[Name], are you dating Jake Sim?" The sound of your boyfriend's name out of their mouths made your stomach churn. You kept walking, but you could feel them pointing their massive cameras at you, taking any measure to make a buck off of you.

You had a few choices.

You could make a run for it. Though, you had about six men double your age who would probably chase you down.

You could also give in to them, and give very vague answers. That would require a lot of patience, and simply, you wanted to go kiss your boyfriend, not talk to these so-called paparazzis.

Your last option was the one that seemed the most appealing, but could stir the pot of the media even more and it would give the tabloids what they wanted: you could tell them off and shut them down completely. The only issue was that you were the cutesy, sweet, Sanrio Hello Kitty girl. You've talked about adult topics before, but for you to be hostile and mean to another person? That was completely unheard of to anyone on the Internet. It would also be very reactive, and the media could twist that into something more.

But you wanted to get out of there.

You wanted to go see Jake. If you had to throw a few curse words at people if it meant that you could go home to Jake, then you'd use every curse under the sun.

"[Name], everyone is saying that your relationship with Jake Sim is real and not a publicity stunt. Any comment on that-?"

You were getting irritated.

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.

"Will you fuck off?" Your gaze hardened on the group of men shoving cameras in your faces. You didn't even bother looking into the lens. "It's 10 in the morning, I don't have time for this."

"We didn't mean to offend you, [Name], we just wanted to know your relationship with Jake Si—"

You huffed to yourself, rolling your eyes. They loved acting polite only to violate your privacy.

"Cut the bullshit, okay?" you narrowed your eyes. You were only a few meters from the hotel entrance, and they were still stalking you with their massive cameras. How shameless.

Your anger was bubbling up inside you. It was rising, rising so much that you could feel it attempting to spill out of your mouth.

"You want to make a quick buck off of me so bad?" You stepped through the hotel doorway.

If the media was so curious about your life, and if they wanted to go so far as to try to disrupt your relationship, you wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Everyone loved seeing what you were doing, everyone loved to watch you. It was your job to put on a show, to give people what they wanted. If you wanted to live, then you'd have to accept that.

You were an influencer, a micro-celebrity. You could make tides move if you wanted to. Why be so fearful of the eyes of so many?

But more than anything, you were a performer. And if that's what they wanted from you, that's what they'll get.

"Fine," you huffed. "I'll give you a story: me and Jake have been together for six years. In fact, we met each other in high school when he was my Physics lab partner. Go investigate that, won't you?"

With that, you slammed the hotel entrance door in their faces.

Jake swore he heard the trumpets of heaven when the hotel room door cracked open, revealing you.

He'd been waiting in front of it for a while now, and he jerked up immediately as he saw your face. He jumped right to his feet, ready to spill every word he thought of on you. You deserved an explanation.

But all you did was raise your hand, silencing him instantly. Instead, you took off your shoes, took his arm, and pulled him with you to the bed. You motioned for him to lay down, and did so yourself.

Jake stared at you like you were insane. Were you not going to yell at him? Why weren't you hitting him or telling him that you wanted to break up with him? Should he be on his knees begging you to stay at this point? But he complied (because of course he did, it was you).

You laid on his chest in silence, pressing your cheek up against him.

That made his mind wander.

Maybe you were trying to ease him into a hard conversation. Maybe you were going to forget this until later.

He didn't want that. No, you deserved to hear what he had to say. If you were going to leave him, Jake wanted to say everything that he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Jake blurted. The silence was deafening, before you took a deep breath, turning over onto your stomach so that your chin laid on his chest.

"What for?"

The gentle look in your eye as you looked at him made Jake choke up himself. He had to hold back or he'd start sobbing.

"For going against your wishes a-and..." Jake searched through his mind for all the words he practiced, but nothing came to mind. Not with you looking at him like you still loved him. "And for telling people about our relationship. I—I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry for disrespecting the promise w-we made.... And... And—"

Jake sucked in a loud, sharp breath. His eyes were getting watery. He took your hands in his, squeezing them.

"And I know that you're ash—ashamed of me, and I know that y-you won't— you won't want to be with me anymore, but—"

"Wait what?" you interrupted him, squeezing hands back. "I'm not ashamed of you, Jakey."

Jake stared at you.

Jakey.

"I'm not breaking up with you either. What makes you think that?"

The gate that was holding back Jake's emotions broke.

Jake let the tears that he tried so hard to hold back roll down his face. He let out a sob before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

You didn't hate him? You still wanted to be with him?

You instantly threw your leg over his hips, straddling him as you pulled his head to your chest. He melted into your touch, his wet face hiding in the crook of your neck. You pet his hair, pressing kisses to the crown of his head.

"Baby," you whispered into his ear gently. "Why are you crying?"

Jake's crying only got louder, and you couldn't help but giggle. He was a total softie. The way his hold around you tightened told you enough.

Jake sniffled through his words, cutting himself off every now and then with a hiccup and more sobs. "Th-Thought you were gonna l-leave me."

Your fingers stopped in his hair. "Leave you? Why would I?"

Jake pushed his face back into your shoulder, shaking his head.

You let him cry like that for a little while longer, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear as you patted his back.

And when he was ready, the two of you talked it out, because that's what people did when they loved each other. You exchanged apologies, explained to each other your thought processes, and created an agreement: start anew, and you both didn’t mind that your relationship was now public, and if either of you disagreed, you had to voice it immediately. You ended it with a kiss.

You clicked the camera on, checking in the viewfinder that you were in-frame. You were back at home, the pink Hello Kitty decorations in your room, as well as the scent of strawberries, surrounding you.

“Hi, everyone!” you smiled brightly, clasping your hands together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all. How are you?”

You chatted about a few updates since Vidcon, telling about your wonderful experience there and how you were so happy to meet all your fans.

“Now, onto the video!”

You peered to the side, where you spotted Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting intently for your cue.

“Oh, Jakey!” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Come out now!”

With that, Jake popped into frame, dorkily saying a quick hi before plopping down onto the chair beside you.

“Today, I will be doing my boyfriend’s makeup!” you chirped happily. “Are you ready, boyfriend?”

The two of you shared a grin.

“Of course, girlfriend.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #jake sim fluff #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagine #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun x rader #star-sim #vanya-writes

2K notes · View notes

raitonsfw · 11 months ago

Text

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞

synopsis: Mornings with Gojo were quite...interesting. If it weren’t for his loud snores and constant whines in your ear, you would’ve fallen asleep by now. But alas, you’ve been up for three hours and had no reason to sleep soon when you felt him press up against you with a shudder wracking his body.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, morning p in v, cuddling, wet dreams, grinding, fingering (if you squint), sideways position, begging, teasing, dirty talk, creampie, size kink, a bit rough, pet names (baby), gojo just takes up half of the bed on his own and then some, gojo’s a bit selfish but like he does make up for it, bit ooc for him (i think), idk i tried my best (i wrote this in 3 hours)

a/n: needed to write something fit for this king and its not my greatest work, but its decent at best! still catching up on season 2, (though it's safe to say ik every goddamn spoiler, even manga wise.) wc: 1.5k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The figure next to you snored. Loudly. You’ve been awake for the past three hours, listening to Gojo sleep next to you, tossing and turning every which way and you wondered why you moved in with him. You knew he wasn’t a sound sleeper, nightmares tended to fill his dreams, an endless void of them. Constant muttering about nothing was also a normal occurrence and you sighed as you awoke for the tenth time from a drifting sleep as he rolled into your space. Again.

“Satoru..” You said his name quietly, nudging him a bit. He didn’t move.

Of course, why did you think that would work? He’s over six feet, for God’s sake and way bigger than you. You couldn’t move him, no matter how hard you tried. Best to just deal with it til morning.

The coming sunrise had settled in the midst of your curtains, the colorful pop of orange and you groaned. It was morning. You turned over to face the window, away from Gojo, and buried your head into the pillow again. You just needed to tune him out, though the breath against your neck didn’t quite help as he was pressed up against you in the near middle of the bed now. You two needed a bigger bed.

You felt his arms stretch around your waist and you contemplated whether or not he was awake. You didn’t notice any changes in his breathing, whether it picked up or not. You closed your eyes, trying to get some rest when you felt his fingers dance against your tummy and a quiet whine emitted from behind you. And here we go again, the incredulous noises he made when he slept would keep you up now.

Not because of how loud he was now. But because they drove you insane, oh how close he was to your ear and panting out little breaths into your shell. The way he pushed up against you even more, seemingly never wanting to leave your side and clinging to you like you’re his lifeline. Damn near putting on a show for you and he didn’t even realize.

Or maybe he did and he was awake, who knew anymore?

You felt him hard against you. The swell of his cock made your cunt leak and suddenly, you weren’t tired anymore. You felt his tiny grinds against your ass and a moan slipped from his mouth, you couldn’t see straight. Not when he was doing it again, for the sake of another wet dream, using you like a toy, his toy, to get off on.

You should wake him.

“-toru.” You whispered, pushing back against him and another groan left him along with a gentle stir from his body. You heard his breath quicken and you placed your hand on his, the one resting on your tummy.

Gojo made a soft noise, more like a hm-, and you noticed his grip on you had gotten stronger. He pulled you almost impossibly close, burying his head into the crook of your neck with his lips pressing a kiss into the crevice. His hips picked up a little, sloppy thrusts against you now and his breath hitched in his throat. He sucked a hickey into your flesh and the hand that rested on your tummy slid down towards the top of your panties, casually playing with the lace.

You were utterly his now, nothing but consumed by his movements and his fingers dipped below the lace and rubbed at your swollen clit. When he noticed how wet, how absolutely sopping you were for him, he tutted in your ear with a husky chuckle. “Already?”

You nodded, your head bowing back to meet his. Gojo moved his face in front of you, leaning into you as his fingers slipped into you halfway. His bright eyes were heavy with sleep, lust flickering against the corners and you let out a soft whimper as he playfully pulled out his fingers, the tease he was. You leaned up to kiss him, your hand shooting towards his wrist, but he moved his head and hand away. “Beg for them, baby.”

You pouted a little as he grinded harder against you, and you swore you felt his throbbing cock twitch at your pout. A whine drew out from Gojo’s throat as his head snapped up to look at the headboard, panting quietly. His mouth had dropped open and you took the opportunity to kiss at his jawline, muttering nothing but pleas into his skin. “Please... Satoru.”

What a fucking asshole he was too, solely getting off on you like this. You whined again, nipping at his skin as he lifted your leg up over against his and pressed the bulge of his cock right against the heat of your cunt. He dragged it against you, almost thigh fucking you now as he pulled himself out of his boxers. The crown of it nudged against your clothed core and you gasped lightly, your mind imploringly made up on sobbing for his cock now.

“You want it?” Gojo asked with a demanding breath. He slipped your panties off of your left leg, rubbing his length between your folds. His hand braced your leg now, holding it in the air slightly and the other tangled into your hair. He grinned down at you, his whole body flush with yours now except for his fucking dick which was teasing your clit. He was big, his body and his dick, both and you shuddered against him as you thought about what he could do to you.

It took you forever just to sink down on him when he begged you to ride, it didn’t seem like he’d go easy on you this morning. Not when his dirty thoughts had been replenished by a wet dream of you.

You whimpered out endless pleas and he sank into you with a loud groan. The man was loud during sex too, not just when he slept and you yearned for his loudness then. Gojo thrusted all the way into you, nearly splitting you in two, and you cried out as you felt him press against your cervix.

“S-So tight around me, fuck…” He groaned, his hand tightening on your thigh and you arched your back off the bed, looking down at where you two were connected. You felt so full, stuffed to the brim with nothing but gojo, gojo, gojo-. He pulled your hair sharply, making you look at him with a smirk. “Eyes on me, baby.”

You moaned in response as he rammed into you harshly, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Your eyes nearly swam in the back of your head and he finally, finally, pulled you into a kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you couldn’t help your whimpers as he swallowed them whole. He fucked into you with vigor, your slick lubing up his cock nicely.

“Yeah, take it all, that’s good, doing so well for me.” He snapped his hips into you, glancing down at him inside you and his breath hitched, his moans became light and airy as you clenched around him with a whine. Fuck, you loved when Gojo praised you, your walls tightening even more around him from the sound of his voice. “Squeezing me in like a champ, shit-”

He sucked at the soft flesh of your breasts, nipping lightly at your nipple as he pounded into you. You watched his eyebrows furrow in pleasure and he panted against your skin, his eyes squeezing shut and you knew he was close– you could barely register your own release nearing as you thought of his own wracking his body soon.

Your orgasm came flooding through you and you leaked all over his cock, the tension snapping within you and you couldn’t control how your hands flew to his back, scratching down it brutally. Gojo came right after you, whimpers flying out of his mouth and he bit down against your collarbone harshly, leaving a fresh mark. His cock twitched inside you as he spurted his cum in you, languidly pushing it into you further. His hips barely stilled, only stopping when he came down from his high and when you whined from the overstimulation.

“Did I wake you up again?” Gojo asked a few moments later, the silence lingering in the air. He didn’t bother to pull out of you, his head laying on your chest now. The sun had made its way into the sky now, pouring sunlight into the room. “If I did, I’m sorry.”

Yeah, he did wake you, but you’re glad he did. You’re glad he snores loudly in his sleep. You’re glad he tosses and turns in the smack dab middle of the bed. You’re glad he pressed himself against you, taking up all the space on the bed. You’re glad he’s selfish with his sleeping habits even if he doesn't mean it.

And he’s glad that you even agreed to sleep next to him, in the midst of his chaotic nights.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦#jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo jjk #gojo jujutsu kaisen #gojo x female reader #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

1K notes · View notes

elodieunderglass · 21 days ago

Note

I'm not as familiar with LOTR as you are, so I wondered if you could tell me if my wild theory is completely off-base.

No one knows where the Hobbits came from, except that at some point they diverged from the line of men. No one knows much about the Entwives' appearance, but we do know that they fucked off a long time ago.

Could the Entwives have been dryad-ish and hooked up with the hobbits' ancestors and so be the foremothers of the hobbits?

Ah I think I saw that post! The concept has a lot of charm, and when the Tolkien estate loses its corpse-grip on the property in 2050 or so, I think you should write it and sell it 😤 I’ve definitely read some good takes on entwives in fanfiction that both leaned into canon and moved away, and I think that sounds like good fun to explore. A common theme in the fandom is playing with Yavanna, the Green Lady, being the mother or patron of hobbits. This isn’t canonical, but she’s a “green goddess” archetype and is married to Mahal/Aulë, the father of dwarves, which shippers often leverage to their advantage. You could do something quite charming there with Yavanna if you wanted to. We also know that Entwives loved gardens and orchards rather than forests.

Some things I would explore with this include:

what is going on with all these consistent ideas of people, races, women disappearing. We know that a lot of it is how Tolkien processed an almost OCD-like Catholic framing of “the fallen world is getting worse and can never be repaired”, war experiences, romanticism and other stuff stewing in his old man head. What are some ways you could show what’s stewing in your head? What does “people disappearing” mean to you? and why is it especially healing that they disappeared in order to make new families?

I think “they disappeared from their old kin and made new kin” is an interesting and weird thing worth wondering about!

- this would possibly make hobbits a more recent race than is implied. What does that mean to you?

- why are hobbits teeny tiny?

A very good starting point, that Terry Pratchett used a lot, is taking some grand statement in fantasy fiction, and making it reflect a different political reality. “Most dwarves are girls actually.” “Wizards parody academia, but, like, FOR REAL.”

I personally have a different take because of my own political feelings and framings! I have a lot of complex feelings about Tolkien chickening out of hobbits. For various political reasons I personally have to take the stance that they are fully human, fully indigenous, and have their own native language. and that their disappearance is less “teehee we lost them” or “O, the Catholic guilt of the Fallen World, how far we have fallen from the light of the two trees God’s sinless light” and a lot more “oh yeah I’ve seen THAT pattern before.”

If you have a political sort of lens on, someone telling you “yeah… hobbits came from nowhere 🤭 and then disappeared 🤷‍♀️ sad!” is a story that can also invite the response of “OHhhhh you wanted their LAND real bad, huh.” Like, we know what that means, right.

It’s a political stance for me. Hobbits have to be close enough to us to touch, and we have to be able to face that, and the fact that 5,000 media properties will chew on tolkienelves and sell them to you before even admitting to the 🤭 just makes it even more of a 🤨. To me.

…But I have literally just been elbow deep in my own demented fanfic thing that involves inventing a language just to swear in, to enable my standing on a box shouting HOBBITS OUGHT TO RESIST GOING EXTINCT ACTUALLY, based entirely on, I think, spite. Why do multiple authors publish orc football games (Terry Pratchett) and orc coffeeshops (Legends and Lattes guy) and do every damned thing with every bit of Tolkien’s corpse but refuse to look directly at hobbits. I am feral over this and wrote 59k words so far to damage and harm my friends

In conclusion I see a great story shape there about kindred and I think you should explore it and it should be about evolutionary biology and women and divorce and nobody being wrong.

And if anyone argues you with some podcast boy “well actually”, just bite them and do more character work and sit on their heads

#I can’t possibly be the 1st to feel there is a huge land justice element to how hobbits are framed #i’m sure somewhere in the thousands of papers of Tolkien academia #and meta fandom #some other clever person has written about this right #right

221 notes · View notes

rapilne · 7 months ago

Text

-Ice Cold

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: sub!beomgyu, sex (?) this contains smut, not proofread, MDNI, beomgyu pov-ish

a/n: no summary cause i couldn't tell you what this is about. this is my first time writing anything like this, i wrote it on my notes so im not sure how many words there are, i think too many, this is without a doubt too long, pls bear with me. also english is not my first language, if something doesn't make sense well idk figure it out pretty pls, thankssss 🫶

"she's my girlfriend," beomgyu said, his expression a mask of utter sincerity.

his words hung in the air, the silence filled with unspoken questions.

yeonjun squinted at him, scrutinizing his face before glancing at taehyun then back at him. "so, you're saying… you have like a crush on her?"

an exasperated sigh escaped beomgyu. “what? no!" he protested "i mean, yes? wait no..” he closed his eyes and said slowly “… it’s like i said it. she’s my girlfriend for real.”

the weight of his words hanged heavily, yet his friends remained speechless, drinks on their hands and stares like daggers.

beomgyu shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do to stop them from looking at him like that.

"i just don't understand what's so surprising about it," he muttered, a pout forming on his lips.

—

choi beomgyu had always been the epitome of charisma. from his looks to his charm, whether he stepped into a crowded room or sauntered down a bustling street, all eyes gravitated toward him, and once you got an interaction, you will just want him to sty forever.

he was well-known and well-liked everywhere he went: university corridors, his guitar lessons, basketball practice, even the corner store near his apartment. everyone seemed to gravitate toward him, drawn in by his undeniable charm.

he likes to think he got that from his mother.

beomgyu, reveling in the spotlight, thrived on the attention. the way people's faces lit up upon his arrival was a drug he couldn't resist.

specially when he is so used to getting his way. always obtaining whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it, never in a malicious or manipulative way, he was bold, confident, overly friendly and people loved him. asking was usually all it took.

so, all things considered, he'd never struggled to draw the attention of those he found attractive. one could almost say he had his pick of the litter.

he thinks it might be true.

that is the reason why setting his sights on you should be the most foolish thing beomgyu has ever done in his entire existence. and yet, there he was, unable to resist the pull, despite the warning bells ringing in the depths of his mind.

from the first time he met you, in his advanced music business class, it was as though you existed in a world entirely apart from his own. not responding to any of his advances was an odd sight for him.

initially, he brushed it off, attributing it to a fleeting lapse or perhaps an uncharacteristic bad mood on your part. after all, he reasoned, he was an attention seeker, but he certainly wasn't a psychopath.

yet, after you acted the same way the next time, and the next, and the next time he tried to talk to you, he couldn’t help but take it personally.

he soon realized it wasn't merely a matter of wounded ego. from the very first meeting, he had mustered his most charming smile just for you. after all, he thought you might just be the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life. and after just a few classes, he realized you were also one of the smartest people he knew.

it’s been a long while, but everything about you seemed to snag his attention, like you were the main character in a movie and he couldn't take his eyes off the screen.

so, whyy you, out of everyone, had to be the one to him the cold shoulder like that? or even better, why couldn’t he just like someone who liked him back?

he soon came to find out, thanks to his seat mate, jun, that your behavior was not uncommon.

he couldn't shake off the words his friend had offered in consolation: "don't sweat it, she's like that with pretty much everyone."

of course, in true beomgyu fashion, he couldn't help but sweat it.

he did pick up on your vibe—not shy at all, like he thought at first, but definitely serious and reserved— still, he wasn't accustomed to blending in with the crowd like that; being treated like “pretty much everyone” didn't sit right with him.

"it's all so high school," jun chuckled then, shaking his head. "but seriously, they actually nicknamed her the ice queen.”

now it seems like getting on your good side might be a task for the gods.

good thing he is known for always getting what he wants.

—

taking a sip of boba should never be this unpleasant. except that time he order matcha when he meant taro, beomgyu has always treated his boba runs as a particularly happy time. right now though, it isn’t going so well. especially when yeonjun goes “you’re fucking lying,” with a snickering tone.

“i only lied when i told you that mesh shirt you’re wearing was a look.”

“how dare you”

beomgyu then stands up and looks at the counter. there are only a couple of tapioca pearls left on his drink and he thinks he might ask for some more. are tapioca pearls refills allowed in this place? he doesn’t think they’re allowed anywhere, but he might as well ask.

“ok, ok, sit back down hyung,” taehyun tugs him from his arm, “when did this even happened?”

“i only have like two tapioca pearls left,” beomgyu ignores him and yeonjun goes, “he is talking about boba because he is lying.” he laughs. “there is no way. not even for you, gyu.”

“look, i don’t know what is so unbelievable about me and y/n being together now,”

“y/n and me,” taehyun corrects

“what?”

“the correct way to say it is ‘y/n and me��, not ‘me and y/n,” taehyun looks at beomgyu after sipping his own cup, “it can depend on the context of the sentence, like both are grammatically correct, but ‘y/n and me’ is considered mo-“

“what on actual fucking earth are you talking about?“

“that is literally not important!” yeonjun interrupts them both with a loud voice, “can we please come back to the topic and know why are you lying about y/n being your girlfriend?”

beomgyu glares at yeonjun, throwing his straw to the trashcan right next to them. they came in quite late to the boba shop and didn’t get the best table. it is a popular place after all.

“for the millionth time, yeonjun, i’m not lying!” he says with wide eyes. “what is it that you want? i can call her right now, put her on speaker and asker to tell you how much she likes me, yeah?”

yeonjun narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. “do it.”

“you’re fucking kidding me-“

the door chimes and yeonjun’s attention is momentarily taken by the sound. beomgyu takes advantage of this and quickly sizes his cup only to realize his mistake too late and have the matcha flavor assaulting his taste buds. he thinks it is a pretty cruel trick on the universe’s part.

he chokes back a gag and it’s impossible for taehyun to not roll his eyes. he appears to be inmune to beomgyu’s charm, consequences of their close friendship.

yeonjun’s laughter fills the air once he realizes what happened. “that’s what you get,“ he says.

“how can you drink that?”

“matcha is tasty,” with a grin on his face, yeonjun shrugs.

“matcha is a sin,” beomgyu retorts, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

taehyun's interruption brought a halt to the conversation. “the way you are just unwilling to talk about it makes me think that yeonjun might be onto something,” he muses, propping his chin on his hand.

“why would i lie about me being in a relationship with someone?”

“you tell us,” yeonjun says mockingly.

taehyun fixes him with a pointed look. “yeonjun stop,” he says and then looks at this other friend, “beomgyu, it is not really about you being in a relationship. it is about with who.”

“what’s is wrong with y/n?” he asks with a pout on his lips.

“oh nothing,” yeonjun scoffs. “except everyone says she is quite literally a bi-“

beomgyu's voice cut through the air with a sharp edge, his tone tinged with seriousness. "watch it, yeonjun,.” he warned, his gaze unwavering.

yeonjun raised his eyebrows, surprised by beomgyu's sudden change in demeanor. "i was just going to say she's quite literally a big fan of not making friends,” he finished instead, eyes wide.

taehyun intervened swiftly, sensing the tension rising. "beomgyu," he began, his tone soft, "i'm not doubting your feelings, but we kind of know y/n's reputation. she's known for being... distant, self-centered even. i just don't want to see you get hurt because you're too trusting."

taehyun's words struck a chord with beomgyu, but before he could respond, yeonjun chimed in, his voice tinged with remorse. "he's right, gyu," he admitted, a hint of regret on his tone. “and i'm sorry about before. but still, you need to be careful. y/n... people have tried to get close to her before, and it hasn't gone well."

beomgyu's heart sank at yeonjun's words, the weight of their implications settling heavily on his shoulders.

"look," he begins, his voice tinged with a mixture of conviction and uncertainty, "y/n is different, okay? she's not like anyone else i've ever met. and maybe i haven't been completely open about it because... because i know how you guys get. but i mean it when i say i’ve known her like other people haven’t. she is good.”

there's a pause as beomgyu searches for the right words, a shadow of vulnerability flickering across his features. "she's not just some stereotype or rumor," he continues, "there's more to her than that ‘ice queen’ nonsense."

as the trio leave the place, beomgyu sips on his refilled boba. turns out they definitely don’t do refills, but, “just for you,” they said.

he even got another straw.

—

“and that’s my problem how?” you asked with straight expression.

the girl in front of you stumbled over her words, her voice quivering as she tries to play it off with a quiet laugh. "i-i’m not saying it's your problem," she began cautiously. "but, like, your signature could totally convince mr. yang to extend the due date. if we all get on board, he'd have to at least consider it. please?”

"no," you reply.

she blinks, caught off guard. “wait, what? i mean, i’m sorry?"

leaning back, taking a sip of your iced coffee, you return your gaze to your book. “you’re good,” you say in an almost nonchalant tone. "i’d just rather not be disturbed while i’m reading.”

she recoils, her nervous vibe replaced by incredulity. "i'm not apologizing to you!" she snaps back before taking a deep breath. "i just—why not? it literally doesn’t hurt you at all to sign? we really need your help y/n. it will even give you more time to finish your own stuff! ”

"already finished it,” you say, not even making eye contact.

she let out a surprised squeak, but recovered quickly.

"well, i guess that's cool for you," she muttered. "but, like, we need your signature or mr. yang won't even look at the petition.”

nothing from your part.

mr. yang was a no-nonsense professor who smelled of tobacco and liked to look at everyone over his glasses as to remind you he is much more smarter than you. he hands out tough tasks, but always provides the necessary materials to complete them. though you weren't his favorite student, and he certainly wasn't your favorite teacher, you excelled in his class, meeting his high expectations. but you worked hard to get things done.

"look,” she sighed, “i know you're really smart, but some of us are really… struggling.“ she sighed sadly. ”it's taking forever to get through the text he sent, you know? if we all, like, come together and help each other out, we could totally make it happen. i don’t think he’d said no. what do you say?" she finished, giving you this hopeful look.

a look that was met with silence.

"y/n?" she tries again.

anna, the heroine in your book, seems genuinely tormented and you’re really starting to feel bad for her. if only she didn’t chose the red door. the blue door was the obvious right choice, but she decided to be adventurous. now, she will probably die. can vampires die? they can, you remember. in twilight, you have to cut them in little pieces and-

"hello?! earth to y/n?" you hear a loud voice in front of your face.

you glance up. right, the ‘help us change the due date’ girl from your class. can’t really say you remember her name.

“you're still here?" you ask flatly. can people get any more annoying?

"oh my god, seriously?!" she practically yells this time. "i can't believe you're such a bitch!"

suddenly, and before things could escalate further, beomgyu swoops in, looking all concerned. "whoa, what's going on?" he asks, his guitar hanging on his shoulder. “i heard yelling.”

beomgyu looks exceptionally good today, you decide. his dark, long hair framing his beautiful face, and eyes so deep and brown, you could not wait to get him alone…

"hey, beomie," you greet him with a smile. "nothing much. ready to leave?"

you've been waiting for him to finish his composition class. your own class got cut short, and you were ready to head home, but beomgyu insisted on spending the rest of the day with you, asking if you could wait for his class to end.

there's someone you can't say no to, and that's choi beomgyu, you've come to realize.

without waiting for an answer, you toss your book into your bag, grab your iced coffee, and take his hand, leading him towards the exit. your classmate watches you with wide eyes, speechless with incredulity. beomgyu glances back a little confused, offering her an apologetic smile and a quick wave as if to to smooth things over.

once outside, hand in hand, beomgyu asks carefully, "what was that?"

"oh, nothing at all,” you brush it off.

"she seemed mad," he remarks, and you stop in your tracks, making him stumble a little.

"did she? i didn't notice," you say, teasingly. "but i did notice i haven't kissed you yet."

with a playful glint in your eyes, you tilt his chin up with one hand and lean in, closing the distance between you as your lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss. beomgyu sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer.

"you're the sweetest," he whispers against your lips, screaming girls all forgotten.

—

“look at this video i took on saturday,” jun leans over the table to show a clip to beomgyu as they sat with a couple of his classmates at the uni cafe. beomgyu recognizes the place as the han river, and the performers on the clip as a dance team yeonjun showed him before.

“oh, i know them!” he says with a big smile, “they’re sooo good. don’t you think they should be like performing on music videos or something?”

“they should,” jun agrees. “i’ve seen them on tiktok though, and they’re making really big numbers.”

“oh shit, yeah, me too! i keep telling y/n to come with me to see them whenever yeonjun tells me they have a showcase.”

this caught the attention of gina, a girl from his music production class “i’m sorry, but i still can't believe you're with her, gyu.” she remarks shaking his head incredulously.

beomgyu looks up from his phone to give her a questioning look, “what?”

“ah, she’s right” hyunjin says through bites of his ham sandwich, "i mean, she's smoking hot, but she's also a total ice queen."

beomgyu glares at him. "come on, not this again, not with the higschool nickname stuff” he defended “she is not an ice anything, you calling her that is cringe. i’ll have you know, she is really sweet, actually.”

"sweet? seriously, beomgyu?" hyejin chimed in, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "every time i've tried talking to her, she acts like i don't even exist."

“sh-“

"yeah, and remember when she snapped at mark for accidentally bumping into her? it was like she thought she was too good to even acknowledge him."

“but-“

"and what about that time she ignored seungmin’s text asking for help with the assignment? she could have at least replied!”

beomgyu's heart sank as he listened to his friends.

“remember last week? what she did to lilly? the stuff with the signatures? honestly, she is such a bitch sometimes…”

before beomgyu could respond, you happened to walk past their table, expression as frosty as ever. misinterpreting their conversation, you shot beomgyu a hurt look before walking away.

"great, now she thinks we're all talking behind her back," gina mutters with a wary look on her face.

beomgyu watches you go away, his heart sinking with the weight of the misunderstanding, realizing you must think you were talking bad about her too.

he stands up abruptly, “for the record,” he interjects with a sharp voice “this better be the last time i hear any of you calling her names, i won't stand for anyone disrespecting her. we’re done.”

glaring at all of them, he turned and strode out of the café, leaving his former friends speechless. outside, he quickened his pace, determined to catch up to you and make things right before it was too late.

—

the doorbell rings incessantly, echoing through the hallway as beomgyu refuses to give up. he's been following you from the school building to your apartment, his determination evident in every step he takes. but despite his efforts, you continued to ignore him, driving him to the brink of frustration.

beomgyu knows he's pushing it, but the thought of you disregarding him like this drives him crazy. with each ring of the doorbell, he feels a surge of desperation, making him want to rip all his hair out.

he keeps ringing the bell and knocking on the door with urgency. he's fully aware that he's risking disturbing the neighbors, they may even call the police.

he’ll risk going to jail for you, he thinks.

finally, the door swings open with a sharp smack, and you're standing there, glaring at him. "knock it off!" you yell, frustration evident in your voice.

despite your fiery eyes, he’s just glad to see your face.

"i'm sorry," beomgyu blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. “but i am sorry you had to listen to that, not sorry because i was agreeing with them or anything, because i was not. i definitely was not, in fact i was letting them know how wonderful and sweet you are, is honestly what i always do. they’re not even my friends anymore. i literally ended it with them. i let them know, oh fuck, i always let everyone know you’re perfect and sweet and the best person i've ever met in my life and that i'm just so so lucky to have you and i love you more than anything and i don’t care about what anyone says because you’re always so, so good to me.”

his words spill out in a jumbled mess, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. beomgyu's desperation is palpable, his rambling emotions laid bare.

you stare at beomgyu, your expression neutral, as his words hang in the air between you. his eyes search yours desperately and, for a moment, he thinks he might have finally pushed you too far, that his rambling confession may have been a mistake.

but then, without warning, you break the tension with two simple words. "come in," you say.

relief floods beomgyu's features as he exhales a shaky breath, the weight lifting from his shoulders. without hesitation, he steps through the doorway, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

—

beomgyu is standing right in front of you, in your bed, with red cheeks in anticipation.

“beomie, do you think i’m a bitch?” you ask with a teasing pout on your lips.

“no! no, no, no i don’t” he responds, looking up at you with puppy eyes, long lashes and a slight frown on his face

“correct,” you concede, putting his hair behind his ear softly “you were dying for me to even look at you, beomie, so i did. how can i be a bitch when i give all you the attention you so desperately beg from me?”

beomgyu exhales, clearing his throat to prevent himself for making any noise. you look down at him, his dark hair, indolent eyes and pouting lips. so pretty, just for you.

“answer me.”

“you’re not, you are so good to me, you’re always so good to me.” he whines, but somehow his voice gets lower. aching to touch you, but keeping his hands on his side, just like he was told.

“that’s right.” you go down and crawl between his thighs slowly. he feels hot wherever you touch him. “i’m so good to you…” you concede as you reach out with confident fingers and grab the waist of his pants and start drawing them down. you pause halfway, though. a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "but, do you deserve it, beomie?" you ask, your tone laced with mock concern.

beomgyu's breath escapes him in rapid bursts, too stunned to speak, but he knows better than not to answer you.

“no..” he chockes out “i don’t deserve it, don’t deserve you.”

“you’re right, you don’t deserve any of it,” you remind him, “good thing i’m so wonderful and sweet right?” you mock as you shove the rest of his pants and underwear down in a quick motion.

his cock comes up against his stomach, twitchy and veiny and your mouth is watering at the sight in front of you, wanting nothing more than for him to cum down your throat. but today is not the day.

beomgyu chews down hard on his lip and closes his eyes at the feeling of you liberating his length. he’s always been too sensitive, but with you he feels like it’s always the first time.

“open your eyes, beomie,” you tell him. “i want you to see and remember what you have to be grateful for.”

he opens his eyes in an instant just for him to watch you slowly wrap your mouth around his tip. he sucks in a a hiss and let’s out a groan when you draw your lips with a light pressure down his cock until he hits the back of your throat, only to come back up and leave a trail of saliva along the way.

“fuuck,” he lets out with a trembling breath. “oh my god”

you put him on your mouth again and swirl your tongue around him, he hits the start of your throat once again and slide up and down, up and down. you wrapped your lips around his tip one more time before running the flat of your tongue up his cock slowly and you stare directly into his eyes,

beomgyu is a mess of flushed skin and teary eyes and can’t stop whimpering at the feeling and sight of you using your mouth on him, he swallows, throat dry and bites his bottom lip to prevent him from spluttering nonsense.

“i don- don’t know if i can- fuuuck- i- i can’t.. can’t hold it, fuck y/n , you’re so- so good to me-“

with his hands on your hair loosing himself to the feeling of your mouth on him, you can’t help but moan on his cock as you can already taste his pre-cum on your tongue, threatening to spill past your lips. you take you mouth off of him. “beomie, don’t cum yet-“ you say between licks, before spitting on him, lubricating and using your hand instead “- baby, hold it in, not yet.”

“i- i can’t, i can’t” he cries and you stop, his chest going up and down aggressively before lifting his face to look up at you. lips red and shinny from biting hard and cheeks rosy from all the pleasure. you think he has never look this pretty.

he sits up trembling, looking at you you slide your drenched panties off. then you straddle his lap, looking at his red erection up and proud, tip right at your entrance, and without any warning, you take his cock in your hand go down on him inch by inch, his arms coming around your torso in desperation as you hold yourself up wrapping yours around his neck, holding each other so close you could feel echother’s heartbeat.

you completely sink down on him and you both gasp, automatically making you clench around him.

“fuuck, baby” beomgyu hissed. his hands coming down to your waist to keep you in place, he’s afraid he would cum in a second if you moved an inch. “don’t move, please”

so, you raised your hips and you both let out a breathy moan as you sat back down again. he whines.

“you can do it beomie, hold it baby” you purr in his mouth. repeating the action again and again. “don’t you want me to fuck you?”

“ye- yes please,- fuuuck yes” he cries, holding you close. always eager to please, he lets you do as you want. obeying you just in time for him to become a whimpering mess.

it was embarrassing, really, how affected he got in literal seconds. and you, with the sensation of having his cock filling you up, couldn’t help but use him like a toy.

“good boy,” you sing softly, breath hitching. “good, good boy. i knew you would let me use you like this. kne- knew you would like to make me happy. right beomie? because you love me? you want to- oh my god” you whine, bouncing up and down on him with urgency, felling him thus up to meet you halfway. “you want to make me feel good”

beomgyu feels like fire inside you, feeling you squeezing him so tight he feels himself closer and closer. he takes his hand from your waist to massage your breasts, knowing how sensitive your nipples are, making you sigh, earning him a kiss so lewd he’ll dream about it. “yes, thank you, please,” he cries, “i want- i want-“

“you can’t even talk beomie!” you chuckle dryly, “wh-what would your friends say if they saw you like this? huh?” you whispered on his mouth, the feeling so good its sending your blood rushing to your head as you keep fucking him stupid.

“their proud, confident beomgyu is just- fuck” you gasp at the feeling of his lips closing around your nipple, ”just a dirty slut? huh” you throw your head back to give him more access as you continue to bounce on his cock “ a begging little whore is what you are beomie”

he feels himself closer and closer, your dirty talking sending him over the edges he pleads, “just for you, i swear is just for you, i love you”

“good boy” you panted on his mouth again, feeling the sensation of your orgasm looming over your body and beomgyu was hit with the staggering force of his release as he came inside you, calling out your name in pleading gasps.

you blinked almost sleepily, looking down at your boyfriend and his post-fuck look, a small smile on his face as you leaned down to place a little kiss on his nose.

“love you too, pup.” you sighed.

—

not matcha, but not taro, either.

beomgyu feels like trying something new as he looks at the menu. the scent of sweet tapioca and freshly brewed tea surrounds you two and he thinks this is exactly what dreams are made of, yet deciding on just the right drink feels like an impossible task right this second.

so he scans the menu, his eyes flickering between the various options. yeonjun said their new horchata drink was good, but he doesn’t trust yeonjun’s taste.

“do you know what you’re ordering?” he asks you with big, round eyes.

you can't help but notice how his eyes resemble tapioca pearls – "just iced coffee," you reply with a hint of amusement.

“right,” beomgyu chuckles, realizing he should have guessed as much.

suddenly, the girl behind the counter approaches you, her bright smile matching the cheery vibe of the boba shop. "hi there! can i help you?" she chirps.

beomgyu's attention shifts to her, “oh! yes yes, just a second” he responds, his eyes scanning the menu once more.

"well, our special today is the pina colada boba blast," the girl continues with a playful tone "it's sweet, refreshing, and i guarantee you it will leave you wanting more!”

beomgyu looks up, and before he could respond, you step forward, "we'll figure it out ourselves, thanks," you say curtly.

the girl's smile falters slightly. "o-okay, let me know if you need any help," she mumbles, retreating to the safety of the register.

"come on, babe, she was just doing her job," beomgyu says, chuckling a little and reaching for your hand. "but i think is time for me to finally admit… there's something kind of hot about you being mean."

you rolled your r eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. you figured that much way before he did “i’m not being mean, beomie,” you still say, feigning ignorance “i truly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

beomgyu grins, feeling a surge of affection for the girl by his side. as they placed their order and settled into a cozy corner of the boba shop, he couldn't help but think how happy he was to have you, even if you did have a bit of a mean streak.

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu x y/n

606 notes · View notes

bwabys-scenarios · 1 year ago

Text

Halloween with the Spiders

Phantom Troupe x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: looots of pussy eating, characters get hard/horny around reader. they eat her pussy after drinking, but they’re only buzzed, not drunk

A/N: I write Chrollo as the shy and awkward guy he actually is so… he’s not super suave in this. Also sorry I wrote out Kortopi, Franklin, and Bonolenov. I’m just not interested in their characters like at all 😭🙏 they’ve got nothing going for them I’m afraid!

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

It was the end of summer, august slipping into September before you knew it. The weather was still warm enough outside for you to be wearing a tank top and shorts, something the blonde you were currently dealing with appreciated greatly.

“Okay Shal, you should be good to go. You can get a popsicle from the fridge now.”

You were the sweetheart of the Phantom Troupe, a woman Chrollo had recruited to be the troupe medical director after he watched you donate your time and services to meteor city residents.

Right now, you were at one of the various expensive hotels Chrollo rented for you, using your nen to tend to Shalnark’s wounds. “Thanks, (Name)! I really thought I was a goner this time!”

He gives you a sly smile as he laps at the popsicle you give him, causing you to laugh. “Shal, you had a cut on your cheek. I swear, you’re such a baby.”

You didn’t know the real reason he always came with injuries in… strange places. He wanted you to use your nen on him, knowing it worked in an unusual way.

When you wanted to heal someone, you used physical touch, and depending on the severity, it could be a touch of your finger to a kiss from your lips. Today, it was a simple touch.

You glanced at the TV, a Halloween themed add popping up. “Oh wow, they’re showing these real early this year.”

Shalnark looked up, biting down on his popsicle. “Huh, weird.”

He hummed, getting a mischievous look in his eyes. You were a real sweetheart, but also easily manipulated by sob stories. “You know, none of the Phantom Troupe has ever celebrated Halloween.”

This had your full attention immediately. “… what?”

———————

Ever since Shalnark informed you of the troupes lack of Halloween experience, you’ve been meticulously planning a way to celebrate with them.

It wasn’t easy getting them all together unless Chrollo willed it, so you’d have to go to the leader to ask for a favor.

You were one of the only members that knew of his location at all times. In your mind, it was because you had an important role, but in reality it was because Chrollo quite enjoyed your presence.

“Chrollo!”

You sprinted towards the dark haired man, and though calling out his name in public wasn’t exactly the safest thing to do, he didn’t scold you. He instead smiled, opening his arms and allowing you to jump into them. “I’m glad you could find me with ease. Let’s go to a cafe and you can discuss what you wanted to talk about with me.”

Chrollo never let you pay for your own things when he went places with you. He said it was because you did so much good for the Troupe, but that was only a half truth. He enjoyed taking care of you.

“Mmm… oh!”

You placed your pumpkin spice muffin down, and Chrollo couldn’t help but laugh when when you held up a finger as you chewed. “I almost forgot to actually talk about what I came for! Chrollo!”

He lifted a napkin, wiping at your mouth. “Shh, (Name). You shouldn’t speak my name out loud so easily, it’s not exactly a common name.”

You blushed, and he placed the dirty napkin in a nearby trash can. “Oh, sorry…”

He motioned for you to talk, and you cleared your throat. “Anyways, Shalnark told me that none of you have ever celebrated Halloween! Is that true?”

He stared at you for a moment, trying to see why you’re bringing that fact up. “Yes, that’s true, we haven’t c-“

Your tears surprised him, but not enough for him to react. You’re kind of known for being a bleeding heart, so his expression stayed neutral, but he did offer you his handkerchief. “Chrollo, Halloween is so much fun! You get to carve pumpkins, wear costumes, eat lots of treats…”

You paused, reaching out to grab his hand. “So, the reason I asked to see you…”

Chrollo waited for you to continue patiently. He couldn’t help but find your ditzy and forgetful nature endearing, so he smiled.

“I want the troupe to get together on Halloween at my house!”

This actually surprised him. He nearly choked on his strawberry scone, having to pat his chest for a moment. “You… you said the troupe? As in everyone?”

“Mhm!”

He stared at you for a moment to see if you were being serious. You were smiling, looking hopeful and expectant.

‘How… can I put this gently..?’

Chrollo squeezed your hand, causing you to tilt your head. “(Name), my sweet and kind friend, the troupe has only come together once in the past three years, and that was for an important heist. I’m not sure if they’ll want to meet for… a Halloween party.”

You giggled. “Oh, but I’m sure they’ll love it! Besides, if you order it, they’ll come!”

He sighed. You looked way too cute, giggling and smiling as you pulled out a notebook and began showing him the things you already had planned.

Sometimes, when he watched you, all he could see was Sarasa. Your perky personality and compassion for others reminded him of her so much, it was one of the reasons he adored you so.

And one of the reasons he had trouble telling you no.

“Alright, alright. I’ll ask them to come, but it won’t be mandatory.”

You squealed in delight, nearly jumping over the table to give him a hug. “Oh, thank you Chrollo! It’s going to be fun, I promise!”

He sighed, smiling and patting your back. Normally, Chrollo would push any other person away, but he let you get away with a lot. “Okay, (Name).”

———————

It was the day before Halloween, and you were sulking. Already, three of the Troupe members wouldn’t be able to come. Franklin, Kortopi, and Bonolenov each called to say they couldn’t make it.

You’d spent most of the week decorating your house and getting it ready for guests. Feitan, Shalnark, and Shizuku would be staying in your three guest bedrooms while the rest rented hotels.

“(Nameeeee) come open the door!”

You blinked, looking out the window to see Shizuku behind your door. “Oh, Shizuku, you’re early. I thought you’d be here tonight?”

She walked into your home, turning in a circle before tilting her head. “I wanted first pick of the rooms, so I finished up my job quick.”

That was only half true, she wanted more private time with you!

“Oh, that makes sense. You’re just in time then, I finished making all the beds a few minutes ago!”

She nodded and walked upstairs to pick her room. Not even five minutes later, you heard someone knocking at your door.

“Coming!”

You open the door to see Feitan standing behind it, holding…

“Feitan, is that… is that a pumpkin?”

“Halloween, pumpkins are important.”

He handed the pumpkin to you before pushing past you into your house. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked almost… proud of his “gift” for you? Feitan watched you carry the pumpkin into your kitchen, where you sat in on the counter.

“Oh wow, it’s huge! What a nice pumpkin!”

He nods, following you. “Stole best one.”

You held back a laugh, knowing he was a bit sensitive when it came to giving gifts and being nice. “Oh, I can tell. Thank you so much Fei!”

Feitan had the habit of following you around like a stray cat when he was around. It was an improvement to your relationship when you first joined the Phantom Troupe as an honorary member. He used to sprint away from you the second you looked at him, and now he followed a few feet behind at all times. Honestly, he was pretty cute. Like a stray cat.

“Hey princess!”

You blinked as your door was torn off its hinges and Uvogin walked in, laughing and stomping into your kitchen before picking you up into a crushing hug.

Feitan stood in the doorway, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes. “Careful, Uvo. She not like us. Fragile.”

uvogin looked down to see Feitan was right. The girl in his eyes was making a pained expression, patting his arm to signal she couldn’t breathe. “Oh, my bad.”

He let her go, keeping her steady as she drew in breath. “Woo… now that is a bear hug that I think an actual bear would give, Jesus Christ…”

You turned back towards the cabinets and began taking out what you would need to get started on baking. “Uvo, could you be a dear and grab my Halloween decorations from the attic? I tried to get them earlier, but they were way too heavy.”

��Of course!”

He walked up the stairs, leaving you to sigh softly. “Okay, let’s see what we can do about that door-“

“It’s aight, (Name). I’ve got it fixed.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when Phinks and Shalnark just appear behind you, and peek over them to see that your door was indeed fixed!

“Oh, thank you guys!” You give them both an affectionate pat to the arm before continuing your baking preparations.

———————

By the time you finish baking, your house is full of Phantom Troupe members. Pakunoda, Nobunaga, and Machi arrived individually within the last few hours. Machi shyly offered to help you bake, watching you from the corner of her eye as you worked. ‘Cute, she’s even wearing an apron…’ Machi thought, her eyes soft as she watched you.

Chrollo was the last to arrive, getting to your house at nearly 8 pm. He opened the door, every member looking up to him when he did. “Hello, everyone. I’m glad to see you could all make it.”

You rushed forward and took his coat, gently scolding him for not wearing a shirt underneath. He laughed, sitting down and smiling at the troupe. Chrollo waited for you to go back to the kitchen before his face returned to its usual serious expression.

“As you can see, (Name) has tried her hardest to make our first Halloween celebration the best it can be. You’ll do as she says, and have fun, though I’m sure none of you wish to upset our special girl.”

They all glanced between each other, nodding slowly. After that, they had a quick meeting to discuss non Halloween matters before (Name) came back into the living room. “Okay, I know I gathered you all here before Halloween, but it’s only to go over my plans and give you all your gifts!”

“Gifts? Aww, you didn’t have to do that for us, sweetheart.” Nobunaga said, smiling.

“But I wanted to! Lemme go grab them!”

You scurried up the stairs, giggling the whole way up. “It seems she’s excited about this.”

You walked down the stairs a few minutes later with a large box in your arms, whining a bit. “Hnn… it’s kind of heavy…”

Several of the boys jumped up to help you, but Feitan got there first. “Give. Too weak.”

You handed the box over, knowing Feitan was doing it to help you. “Thanks, Fei!” You gave him that pretty smile of yours, and the rest of the troupe grumbled lightly.

Feitan sat the box on your coffee table, using his sharp nails to slice open the tape. “…”

Inside were clothes, all the same design. “(Name) what exactly are these… gifts?” Shalnark asked, tilting his head as he pulled a set out.

“Oh, they’re matching pajamas! I was hoping we could all get a picture together!”

You hand out everyone’s clothes, smiling.

“How did you know our sizes?” Pakunoda asked, seeing the set of pajama was her size. You giggle, turning towards her.

“I have my ways~”

Surprisingly, most of them were completely fine dressing in the Halloween themed pajamas for pictures, and the ones that weren’t did it anyways.

Phinks sat on the couch after the pictures, humming. “Huh, these are pretty warm and soft. You mind if I take these with me back to my hotel?”

“I don’t mind at all, they’re yours after all!”

The people that weren’t staying the night filed out soon after, all thanking you, a few giving you hugs and cheeky kisses to her forehead.

“Goodnight, (Name). Sleep well, and thank you for this.”

Chrollo was the last to leave, saying that before cupping your cheek and planting a kiss on your forehead. It left you. A little flustered, but you still waved at them all. “Be safe, and make sure you’re here by 9 am!”

Shalnark, Feitan, and Shizuku stayed behind, the former two eating some leftovers you had in the fridge. “Wow, it’s been nearly a month since I’ve gotten to try your homemade cooking, (Name)! This is amazing!”

You felt your face heat up, giving your friends a sheepish smile. “I’m happy you’re enjoying it.”

Soon, everyone went to bed, and you climbed into your own, excited for the day to come.

You wake up in the middle of the night to the feeling of eyes on you. You’re quick to reach for your light switch, only for your hand to come in contact with someone’s face.

A hand covered your mouth before you could scream, the person shushing you gently. “Don’t worry, it’s just me, (Name).”

Shalnark sat, crouched next to your bed, that boyish smile on his face as he pulled his hand away. “Huh… why are… why are you in my room?”

“Oh, we’re watching you sleep.”

“We’re?”

You blinked, glancing around the room to see Feitan standing in your doorway, leaning against it. “I not watch, making sure he don’t try something.” Feitan corrected, glancing to the blonde.

“Oh, you wound me Fei. I would never hurt (Name)!”

“Not hurt, but might touch while sleeps.”

The blonde blushed, glancing down at you as you gave him a disturbed look. “No, I promise I wouldn’t do that! I just… you look really cute when you sleep!”

“… how many times have you watched me sleep??”

“… almost every time we have a mission together.”

Feitan nodded to confirm this, walking into your room. “He not mean any harm, just worried.”

Shalnark pouted at his friend. “So you were teasing me on purpose earlier?”

The two ignored him. “Worried? What does that mean?”

Feitan sighed, plopping down on your bed. “We… lost people before. Shalnark get anxious, not want you to get hurt. Watches you.”

You soften, gently patting the blondes head. “Aww, Shal, that’s really sweet. I’m okay though, I promise!”

You give them both a smile, tentatively patting Feitan’s arm. He tenses, but doesn’t move. ‘Progress!’

You kind of treat Feitan like a scared stray cat, and it works most of the time. After your gentle pat, he scoots closer ever so slightly. You rub your eyes and yawn. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.”

You turn around and pull the blanket up to your chin, snuggling into your pillow-

“Shizuku!?”

“Hi.”

The dark haired girl was lying next to you, wearing the Halloween pajamas you gave her. “W-when did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“She has.”

“Longer than Shal.”

You sigh, lying back on your pillow, accepting this. “Okay, as I said, I’m going to sleep. Just… don’t do anything weird and you can all stay.”

Strangely, having the three in your room helped you sleep better. It almost made you feel safe, knowing your friends were watching over you.

——————

The Troupe gathers in your living room at 9 am sharp, some looking tired, others perky. You’re surrounded by your comrades, some(namely Shizuku and Feitan) hovered around you shamelessly as you began to speak.

“Okay, the first thing on our list is pumpkin carving!”

You had Uvogin and Phinks help you carry in the pumpkins as Pakunoda and Machi laid out newspaper to keep your living room clean. “So this isn’t just normal pumpkin carving, it’s a contest! I’ll be the judge, and whoever makes the pumpkin I like the best, wins!”

“What’s prize?” Feitan asked, poking his pumpkin. You blinked at the shorter man.

“Oh… I think I completely forgot about a prize. Any ideas guys?”

You smiled, still in your cute pajamas. Shalnark raised his hand. “Shal?”

“How about a blowj-“

Phinks smacked the blonde over the head before Shalnark is pulled away by a few members and scolded in the corner.

“Hmm? What did he say?” You asked, tilting your head. Chrollo cleared his throat, the man surprisingly flustered easily.

“Nothing. How about… a kiss from you as a prize?”

You hummed softly. “A kiss? That doesn’t seem like a good prize, I don’t think anyone here would want th-“

The entire troupe started to argue with you, and you blush.

“Oh, um… okay. A kiss it is.”

This helped to motivate the group, but before they could start you raised your hand. “Two rules, guys. No nen, and you have to use these pumpkin carving tools.”

Already, Machi and Shalnark were pouting. Feitan took the pumpkin carving kit, raising an eyebrow at you. “… dull blade. Why?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be child safe.”

“(Name), we’re a band of thieves.” Chrollo said, his lips twitching into an amused smile. “We can handle actual knives.”

You whine and hand him his own kit, puffing out your cheeks. “Well too bad, thems the rules!”

You cross your arms and walk into the kitchen.

“Haha, you sure pissed her off, boss! Boss?”

Chrollo sat in the chair with his head in his hands, groaning. “I’m an idiot.”

Uvogin clapped him over the back with his large hand, laughing. “Oh don’t worry boss, you know she can be pouty when it comes to our safety.”

“Boss not wrong though. Kill people, can use knife.” Feitan grumbled, stabbing his pumpkin.

“Fei, I don’t think that’s how you carve a pumpkin.” Phinks said, crouching down.

“Tch, you know better?”

Phinks held up his phone, a tutorial on the screen. Pakunoda, Machi, and Shizuku sat together, ignoring the men as they carved their pumpkins, occasionally dodging flying pumpkin guts.

——————

You walked out of the kitchen 30 minutes later, carrying in some muffins shyly. “Sorry, I was a little rude earlier. I made some- oh, are you all done?”

You ignored the complete mess the troupe had made, happy that you laid out plenty of newspaper. Nobunaga nodded, holding up his pumpkin. For an expert in the sword, it looked… really bad.

“Yep, we just finished up!”

You hummed and looked over each pumpkin. “Oh, Paku, is yours a cat?”

She nodded, trying to keep a neural expression. It was a little cat, and you couldn’t help but coo and take a picture. “Cute!”

It wasn’t amazing, but cute nonetheless. You continued looking, the next one to catch your attention being Shalnark’s. It was an image of some anime character, and despite looking amateur, you could recognize the character. “Oh, is that sailor moon? It’s really good Shal!”

He gave you a proud smile, holding his pumpkin i his lap. The last pumpkin that caught your attention was Feitan’s, which was honestly the best looking one. It was a detailed carving of human heart, and you couldn’t help but be impressed.

“I think we have a winner!”

You pick up Feitan’s pumpkin and hold it up for everyone to see. Despite being upset they didn’t win, everyone also agreed his was the best looking.

You placed the pumpkin on your table before smiling. Under his jacket, Feitan’s cheeks were a soft pink as he stood before you. “Fei, are you ready for your prize?”

He froze, his hands trembling slightly in his pockets. Feitan had always been on the shy side, and when it came to you, his shy nature only intensified. The others could pick this up, especially Phinks and Shalnark. The two were about to speak up, but you talked first.

“Fei, I won’t kiss you if you don’t want it.”

His eyes widen slightly. How should he tell you that it’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss you, it’s the fact that he wasn’t sure how his body would react to such a thing? Shit, it was already hard enough to not pop a boner in your presence, a kiss might kill him!

“Kiss… kiss alright. Can handle it,” he tried to say nonchalantly, but his words came out shaky. You smiled warmly, stepping closer and gently tugging the hood of his coat down.

“Are you ready?”

His heart thumped against his chest rapidly, his eyes half lidded as he stared at your soft lips. “Y-yeah…”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his for a moment before pulling away, giggling. “There you go!”

You open your eyes, only to see him tug his hood back into place and speed away from you. Feitan’s face was bright red, and he could feel his pants tighten as he his under hid coat.

“Well,” Chrollo said, getting everyone’s attention. Only few people would be able to read the hint of jealousy in his eye as he spoke. “What’s next, (Name)?”

———————

After a quick lunch, the group gathered at a corn maze. “Okay everyone, we’re going in groups of two, using the buddy system in case we get separated! Stranger danger, ya know?”

Phinks patted your head. “No one else is here, (Name), we’re the only people in line. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with stranger danger.”

“Besides, we’re all adults and nen users.” Pakunoda said, slightly amused by your concern.

“Hmph! We’re doing the buddy system, there’s scare actors in there. What if one of them can use nen? It’s better to stick to pairs of two!”

Chrollo nodded, paying for everyone to enter. “That’s smart, (Name).”

The pairs were as so: Chrollo and Pakunoda, Phinks and Feitan, Shalnark and Machi, Uvogin and Nobunaga, then Shizuku and you.

Pakunoda glanced at you and Shizuku. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, (Name)? Shizuku can be a bit forgetful, I don’t want you two to get separated. You’re scared easily, aren’t you (Name)?”

Shizuku huffed before pulling you into her chest. “Hey, I’ll keep her safe! I’ll stay focused!”

You blushed a little, your face directly in her breasts. “Mmph!”

She released you, patting your head. “Whoops, you alright?”

You nodded shyly, your face hot.

The group entered the maze, taking different paths. It was large and intricate, more like a labyrinth than a maze. Shizuku kept a hold on your hand, occasionally squeezing it when someone jumped out to scare the two of you.

“Oh. (Name), are you scared?”

You were trembling and holding onto her arm, giving her a slight nod. “A little, y-yeah…”

The two of you continued to walk through the maze, but Shizuku seemed to space out. “Hmm…”

She let go of your hand for just a moment, and when you attempted to grab her hand again, she was already gone. “Shizuku? Shizuku!”

You shook in your little Mary Janes as you tried to find her. Just then a man with a chainsaw begin chasing you, causing you to shriek and sprint in a random direction. “AGH! SHIZUKU! SOMEONE!”

You cried in fear, spotting a familiar figure and nearly sobbing. “Uvo! Nobu!”

They looked up, Uvogin opening his arms to allow you to jump into them. He held you close as you trembled and cried, obviously terrified. Nobunaga gave you a look of concern before glancing up, unsheathing his sword and the man approached.

“Hey, back off. She’s scared.”

The man takes one look at the two menacing figures before turning around and running away. Nobunaga turns back to you, gently running his hand over your hair to smooth it out. “Hey, he’s gone. You’re okay now.”

You sniffle a little, but relax into Uvogin’s arms. “There ya go, princess. Just relax. We’ll find our way out.”

The two spent the rest of the maze in silence. Their intimidating presences alone were enough to keep all the scare actors at bay. By the end of the maze, you had fallen asleep, your arms around Uvogin’s neck.

“Uvo, Nobu? Oh thank god, you found her!”

Shalnark ran towards the three, looking over you with relieved eyes. Nobunaga held a finger up to his lips, the blonde getting quiet. “She’s sleeping, Shal. Did anyone find Shizuku?”

Said girl was being scolded by Feitan close by. She seemed sorry enough, glancing at you with regretful eyes. “I didn’t mean to leave her, I got distracted…”

Chrollo took you from Uvogin’s arms, sighing softly as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “That doesn’t matter, all that matters is she’s safe. Let’s get her home.”

By the time the group got home, it was dark. You awoke when you heard a wet thwack!

“Huh? What was that?”

Chrollo set you down. “I’m not sure, I think it’s coming from around the corner.”

You peeked arousn the corner, your eyes going wide. “The pumpkins! Hey!”

You run forward, the troupe following close behind. A group of drunk men were smashing the pumpkins you all worked hard on. “Hey, you assholes! Get away from-“

You attempted to shop them away, but were pushed to the ground. “Shut up, bitch. Stupid whore thinks she can tell us what to do…”

Thankfully, Phinks caught you before you could hit your head on the concrete, his strong arms lifting up up. “You alright, sunshine?”

You nod, sniffling a little, tears running down your cheeks. “They… they’re smashing our pumpkins…”

He did his best to comfort you as the rest of the Troupe advanced. “Trash, make her cry.” Feitan spits, wielding his umbrella.

“What should we do, boss? Can’t let them hurt our sweethearts feelings, can we?” Pakunoda asked, ruffling your hair as she passed by.

Chrollo hummed. “Take them out, but wait until we get (Name) inside.”

Pakunoda, Feitan, and Shizuku stayed outside while the rest walked in. You heard screaming for a minute, then the sound of Shizuku’s nen activating.

“I’m sorry about the pumpkins, (Name). I know you liked them.” Shalnark said, sitting next to you as you sulked on the couch.

“It’s okay… I got pictures of all of them… at least…”

Shalnark patted your back before opening his phone. “I’ll call in some pizza, okay? Uvogin and Nobunaga brought alcohol, so why don’t we watch some horror movies and chill?”

You nodded, rubbing your teary eyes. “Yeah, that sounds fun…”

——————

It didn’t take long for everyone to get pleasantly buzzed, you included. The troupe gathered around your TV, each taking turns to sit next to you. After all, you always jumped into the lap of whoever sat next to you when you got scared!

You stood up, humming. “Imma grab some treats, made ‘em yesterday.”

Little do you know, Shizuku had an idea. You returned with the tray, placing it on the coffee table and smiling. “Okay, dig in g-“

The dark haired girl snuck up behind you, yanking your skirt down and sitting you on the coffee table. “Let’s play a game, whoever can eat her out and make her cum the fastest, wins.”

You sat there dumbfounded, trying to process the fact that your pussy was on full display for the entire troupe, and they were all blatantly staring. You tried to close your legs, whining, but Shizuku kept them held open. “H-hey!”

You pour at her, but you don’t make any further moves to stop her. You’ve never had someone eat you out before, you hadn’t even had sex, so the thought of all 8 members present taking turns making you cum was making your pussy drool in delight.

It’s not like you haven’t imagined it a few times. Your fellow troupe members were attractive, and although this was a little embarrassing, you were a little excited.

“F-fuck…”

Phinks crouched down in front of you, taking a good whiff. You squeaked, your face hot with embarrassment.

He’s quickly shoved away by Machi, who huffed. “You said you get to go first? We’ll have to draw straws.”

Chrollo cleared his throat, the bulge in his pants more than evident. “That’s a good idea, Machi. Get the straws.”

You were allowed to sit down on the couch, a pillow under your hips to get you comfortable.

The first one up was Feitan. You felt a bit sorry for him, he was obviously inexperienced in such a thing, staring at your pussy with wife eyes, his hands shaking a little when he grabbed you by the hips.

He lowered his head to your pussy, looking up at you with those dark eyes. He took his coat off, now only wearing pants. Even from this angle, you could see the tent in his pants, his cheeks a light shade of pink.

“Come on, Fei. Hurry up!” Phinks yelled, tapping his foot impatiently.

Usually, Feitan could be pretty intimidating to most people, but you knew that he wasn’t actually a bad guy, he was just a bit shy and awkward. You played with his hair, trying to encourage him. “It’s okay, take your time.”

Even as you said this, you lightly bucked your hips trying to reach his face. You couldn’t help it, he was so close to burying his nose in your pussy.

Maybe he just needs a little guidance…

You look at him, grabbing a fist full of his hair and gently guiding him to your cunt. His eyes widened, and when his lips touched your pussy, he moaned into you. Feitan’s tongue darted out of his mouth, testing the waters.

“Mmph…”

He buried his face in your pussy, licking and sucking everywhere. Occasionally he’d touch your clit, but you knew without some more guidance, he wouldn’t be able to make you cum.

Gently, you grabbed his hair again, cooing softly as you guided him towards your clit. “Here, Fei.”

He glanced up at you through his dark eyelashes, immediately latching onto your clit. This had you mewling, your hips bucking into his face.

Feitan was a fast learner, you only had to show him how to please you once and he was on it like a hawk. After a minute, you ended up cumming on his tongue, panting softly.

Phinks clapped Feitan on the back as the dark haired man pulled away. “Hey, it took a bit but you got her there! Nice job, man.”

Feitan looked at you shyly, patting your thigh. “… good girl.”

‘Oh, he’s so cute.’ You thought, wanting to give him a kiss or something for his efforts, but the next person up was already crawling between your legs.

Pakunoda held your thighs apart, her thumb rubbing against your clit. “Is that good, princess?”

You nodded, whining a little. “Mhm… ahh!”

You squeak when she inserts a finger, now sucking on your clit as she adds another finger in. You bucked your hips, but she keeps you still.

You cum pretty quick, the woman smiling up at you as you catch your breath. “Mm, you taste divine, (Name).”

She gave your pussy a kiss before moving away for the next person to come.

Chrollo and Shalnark were similar in the way they ate you out. They liked to make a lot of eye contact, their fingers curling inside you, sometimes chuckling on your clit as they suckled on it.

Phinks and Uvogin were rough, their big tongues filling your pussy up, their fingers stretching you out. They both groaned when your walls clenched around their fingers as you came.

Nobunaga and Shizuku were a little desperate, their tongues lapping at you and fingers thrusting into you at ungodly speeds. Although you came quick, it wasn’t as satisfying when you came the previous times.

Machi was much like Pakunoda, taking her time and making you cum on her tongue easily. She was the only on to grab your breasts, making the others jealous. They hadn’t even though of that!

By the end of the night, you were exhausted!

The pillow underneath you was soaked with your cum, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Our sweetheart seems tired.” Phinks teased, crouching down to help you get dressed.

The group decided to sleep in the living room, and you fell asleep being cuddled by the entire troupe.

Was it easy being loved by a band of thieves? No. Was it satisfying?

Oh yes.

“This was the best Halloween ever…” you whispered into Chrollo’s chest. He smiled and kissed the top of you head.

“It really was.”

1K notes · View notes

popopretty · 11 months ago

Text

[Translation] Asagiri Kafka's afterwords for The Day I Picked up Dazai novel

Normally, afterwords would be the last thing I read in a novel, but as there are not many changes to the published novel this time compared to the movie bonus version, I was able to skim through the text quickly and get to this. And to be honest, despite not being a writer myself, I was so moved by Asagiri's views about writing and his characters that he shared in the afterwords, that I had to sit down and translate it right away.

This is just my crappy translation, as usual, but I hope it gave you a short, interesting look into the author and the characters. And please do not forget to buy the novel if you have the chance.

The translation is under the cut, thank you!

It has been a while. This is Asagiri Kafka.

Have you been enjoying Bungou Stray Dogs?

This novel, “The Day I Picked up Dazai”, is a compilation of the first week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side A” and the second week’s bonus novel “The Day I Picked up Dazai – Side B” for the screening of “Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST” movie (hereinafter referred to as “BEAST”).

Normally, it is difficult to publish a bonus like this, but since "BEAST” and “Fifteen” that were published earlier by BEANS Bunko were originally bonus novels too, "The Day I Picked up Dazai” was also published in the same way, thanks to the efforts of all parties involved in the Bungou Stray Dogs series.

It is the story of Dazai and Odasaku’s first meeting, where Dazai who wants to die, collapsed in front of Odasaku’s place, who is neither a mafioso nor a hit man.

Why are there two different stores, Side A and Sode B? Regarding this question, please read the novel and see for yourself. If you keep in mind that this is the bonus for the BEAST movie, I think you will be able to understand it better.

Let me reminisce a little bit here.

This story was actually suggested to me by Igarashi Takuya, Director of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime.

Shortly before BEAST movie premiered, I was struggling. It was because I was asked to write a bonus novel for movie-goers again. I said “again” because, as I mentioned earlier, BEAST itself was a bonus novel for the Bungou Stray Dogs DEAD APPLE movie. I remembered having a hard time writing it, because I let myself run wild and wrote a total of 190 pages instead of 50 pages as requested.

But I had learnt my lesson after the last rampage. I can’t just write whatever I want anymore. I have to wrap the story in a reasonable length, like a pro should do.

A proper, professional story.

Huh?

My pen stopped right there. I stopped, looked around, feeling lost.

What is a proper story?

The act of writing novel is quite different in character compared to other types of media such as writing manga, anime scripts, or game scenarios. You can say it is almost a different thing. Writing novels, rather than narrating an event, is more like putting the flow of emotions into specific sentences. You use the sequence of letters to create rhythms, create flows, and create emotions. If anything, it might be closer to composing a song than writing a story.

Therefore, you have to decide “what kind of emotion will be put in this novel” from the very beginning, or you can’t start writing. That is the only and absolute rule.

Now, however, that is where the condition of a “proper story” hung over me.

A proper novel, of a proper volume, with a proper content for a bonus.

In other words, a proper emotion.

I searched through the drawers inside my head. For a proper emotion that is waiting to be brought out.

There was nothing but emptiness there.

A professional story teller is one with the skill to move the readers’ emotions. When people find the chance to move their own emotions, they will happily be paying for it. Human-being is that kind of creature.

And writers are ones who create and sell those kinds of emotions: the fear, the excitement, the heart throb etc., those that make you think. It is that kind of job.

It is supposed to be that kind of job.

Yet I became unable to move forward.

A good story is a story that moves people. I know that. Then what kind of emotion I should put in the story to make it "proper"?

How do I find that emotion?

I mean, how did I even write novels until now?

I stood still. My legs stiffened, my knees froze, unable to take even a step forward.

I then tried to at least pretend that I was moving forward, by listening to music, by taking a walk around the neighborhood at night. But as good as the night breeze felt, I didn’t manage to reach a single story that I needed to write.

What if I stayed like this forever, what would I do?

I felt a chill plunging into my back.

Then I realized, that stories, or probably emotions too, are not things you can search for or come up with. You have no choice but to patiently wait for it to come your way. You have no choice but to humbly and earnestly sit and wait for the story’s visit.

I got that, but the "proper 50-page story” still refused to come.

It was not long before one week passed. Then two weeks.

I was doing other work, while keeping my heart’s door open, waiting for the story to come to me.

At that time, I had an online meeting with the anime staff. I casually asked Director Igarashi, “Do you have any story you want to see?”

The Director gave it a little thought then told me, "I want to see the story of Dazai and Oda’s encounter”.

At that very moment, the story rushed in through my door, like a bang. I could hear that sound very clearly.

Two stories. Odasaku, and the two Dazais. A story where they met, and a story where they couldn’t meet. A story of gain and a story of loss. If I can portray the gain and loss side by side, the amplitude of the heart will be doubled and rise up in front of us.

That was a momentary event. Rather than pushing my way forward, I felt as if something was pulling my hand. Before I noticed, I have already finished the stories.

I came to realize.

It is not the writer who searches for the story. It is the story that chooses its writer, and at some point it will come our way. A professional writer is no more than someone with the ability to catch that call.

Also, this is the most important thing: there is no such thing as a “proper emotion”. Because after all, the feelings of other people belong to them only. That is why there is no guarantee that a novel can move others “properly”. However, you can move your own emotions. You know what kind of novel can and how it will move you. If you do, you can write just that. That’s the only way. That is the truly professional attitude. That’s what I thought.

Well then.

It is a little bit off topic, but as we are talking about “stories that come our way”, let’s talk about Odasaku’s first-person narrative.

Odasaku is a special character. For me, he is exclusively a novel character, and I have never portrayed him in the manga.

He first appeared as the narrator in “Dazai Osamu and The Dark Era”, then “BEAST” and now this “The Day I Picked up Dazai”. All are novels. That’s why for me, Odasaku doesn’t live inside the pictures, he lives inside the first-person narrative passages.

He is an eccentric guy. Even if you prepare the place and tell him to speak, he won’t speak to you that easily. His way of thinking is rather unique, that if I write his narrative after writing other characters’ first-person narrative, I would stumble for sure. Odasaku doesn’t speak. He just sits there in silence, while I can do nothing but sitting in front of my blank manuscript paper, trying to talk to him, like “What’s up?”, “Here, here”. However, he is a guy who won’t speak when it is not necessary. Sometimes it goes days or even weeks without him saying a word. Why did such a character come to me...?

During such time, there is only one thing I can do. That is, of course, to stay with him, sit patiently, and simply wait.

Finally he will start speaking. In his unique rhythm, word by word. His words have the power to cut through the world from a certain angle. That special cross-section is full of things I have never seen before and it never fails to surprise me.

And then when he finishes telling his story, he will swiftly disappear. To a dark and quiet place somewhere – probably, I can only imagine, somewhere like a bar. He will sit there calmly and keep his own time to himself. After that, it will be hard to call him again. It is a backbreaking task to me, but in the end, that is the type of guy Odasaku is, and if I am allowed to sound self-conscious, that is Odasaku's charm.

This story was written in such a way. There is a chance that he will come back again. And when he does, I will patiently listen to his voice again.

This story was completed and published thanks to the help of many people: in the Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST movie’s Production Committee, the anime staff, Young Ace’s Editorial Department, BEANS Bunko’s Editorial Department, and the many people who were involved in the publication of the book. Thank you very much. It is all thanks to you that the book was published without any problem this time as well.

Well then, see you in the next story.

Asagiri Kafka.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #the day i picked up dazai #traánlation

870 notes · View notes

yayakoishii · 1 year ago

Text

Hunger | Sanji x Reader

Sanji x Reader; Fluff...?

No pronouns used but written with a fem reader in mind. Reader is referred to as a woman or lady at times, but nothing else so you can ignore it if you want!

wc: 2.2k

a/n: super super self indulgent, I wrote this in an hour because I was possessed by this sudden overwhelming love for Sanji. honestly, this fic started with a different goal that where it ended but oh well. maybe I'll write another one to fully convey what I started here. this is my first time writing for OP and Sanji so forgive any mistakes and oocness! enjoyyy!!

also available on ao3!

Sanji didn't know what to think of you.

At first, he had treated you like the other ladies on board and expected you to treat him the same way they did. Except you were different. In your actions, in your words, in your whole being– there was a different kind of softness, warmth and intensity.

It started with you just giving him warm smiles and soft thank yous whenever he brought out a new drink or dish for them to enjoy. The way you always maintained eye contact while doing it left him feeling a little stunned for some reason, and it almost always ended up with him fainting from the loss of blood. And then the way you would be worried over it, even though everyone else just ignored it once he was under Chopper's hands.

You stayed there until he was okay enough to go back to the kitchen. It was just a little thing, but it seemed to squeeze his heart in a painful way.

It was fine with just that, until you started tip-toeing around his territory – the kitchen. He could see you peeking through the door at times, wondering if you wanted something to eat or drink but feeling shy when it came to actually calling you out for it. It was weird– he was being weird around you, but it wasn't his fault. There was something about your ease and quiet around him that made his heart jackhammer in his chest like it was trying to beat his entire life's worth.

So he stayed quiet, pretending not to notice, until you stepped in.

And then he couldn't ignore it anymore.

You sat at the table, just giving him a small smile and nothing else. You didn't say a single word and he couldn't stop himself anymore.

"Did you want something, (y/n)-chan?" He asked gently, just in case you were feeling shy to ask for whatever it was you wanted to eat. But you just shook your head at his words, resting your chin on the backrest of the chair.

"Not really, Sanji-kun," you replied, eyes fixated on his hands, now that he finally realised it. You were looking at the food he was cooking. "I just wanted to watch you cook. Is that okay?"

The blonde chef stood there for a few seconds, stunned silent. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. Why would you want to watch him cook? That would be a waste of your time! But before he could say as such to you, he was stopped by the earnest look in your eyes.

"I promise I won't disturb you!" You said quietly, eyes gleaming with your eagerness. He couldn't say no after that.

"Of course not, sweetheart," he finally replied, flicking his eyes downward so he doesn't keep staring at you. The face you had on was too innocent and bright, and his heart was doing that painful squeeze thingy again. "You could never disturb me."

Wrong. Your presence was very disturbing. In a good way, of course. In a way that made his insides feel like they are convoluting and rearranging themselves. In a way that made his chest feel tight and warm.

Perhaps he should have regretted saying that to you. Because you took it as a blanket permission to watch him cook everyday. You would walk in at random times after breakfast, sometimes with a book where you wrote while he cooked or empty handed like always.

And then you started talking to him.

Asking him curious little questions about the food he was cooking at first. And he would answer them as simply as he could, not wanting to confuse you. Sometimes, he saw you noting things down and wondered if you're learning to cook. But it didn't seem like that, just you and your weird fascination with watching him cook. That was fine. (That was not fine. It made him self-conscious because suddenly, he was wondering if he looked like a mess when he was cooking, something he had never doubted before.)

Then your questions turned to just telling him about random things that happened outside while he worked, or something you read in a book, or a story from your past. You talked to him like you would to any other person, but somehow, in the confines of the kitchen where he usually worked by his lonesome, it all felt doubly intimate and personal. Like you were whispering secrets straight into his ear, seeping into the crevices of his heart one drop at a time.

Somewhere along the line, he realised that he didn't feel that heart pounding feeling around any of the other women. He calmed down around them a little, and was gifted with Nami's concerned yet puzzled looks and Robin's analytical one. He played it off by avoiding the topic smoothly whenever they asked, but even they weren't blind to when this change had started to happen.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious to it. Like always, you stepped into the kitchen with more questions, this time about him, about his interests, and anything he wanted to talk about.

"...if I could go there," he paused when he realised that he had been going on and on about the All Blue for the past ten minutes while he was fluttering around the kitchen, without even seeing if you were listening. His head whipped up, cheeks red with embarrassment, only to find you looking at him intently with wide interested eyes.

And somehow, the usual squeezing feeling in his heart reversed. Now it felt like someone had cut his chest open and left its contents exposed for you to gently pick up and caress in your soft hands.

"Sorry, I rambled there for a bit," his mouth felt dry suddenly. He paused in his cooking to grab himself a glass of water.

"Why are you apologising?" You said cheerfully, scribbling something into your book as usual. "I asked you about it, Sanji-kun!"

"Still," he laughed nervously, wondering if you secretly thought he talked too much. Women liked it better when the man listened to them, right? "You probably didn't want to hear all of… that."

Your brows furrowed and you looked at him with a frown. "Why not?"

Sanji drew the glass away from his lips at your question, feeling a little lost. Did that mean you wanted to listen to him…?

"Isn't it boring for you?" He tried, readying himself to hear you affirm his statement.

"It's not boring at all," you said, shaking your pen in his direction. "You are obviously interested in it. You're passionate about it, like you're about your food, and I think that's wonderful. Hearing someone talk passionately about what they love can never be boring for me. It's like an open window into their hearts."

Sanji's heart jumped in its place at that line, wondering when was the last time someone had tried to look into his heart. He was always the one chasing after the ladies, ready to give his heart but never finding anyone who wanted it. And now you were here, wanting to know what was in his heart, wanting to know him. But what if he wasn't the only one? What if he was deluding himself into thinking that he was special to you?

"Did you ask the others about their dreams too?" He asked, hoping it came off as casually as he had wanted it to. You leaned back in the chair, nodding with a huge smile, not realising the way his heart sank at that.

"Of course I did," you said proudly, holding the book close to your chest. "Luffy gave me a place on this ship even though I had nothing to offer to the crew, just because I had nowhere else and no one else to go to. So I wanted to do something for him, and for you guys. Sanji-kun, can you keep a secret?"

"Anything for you, my love," he said without missing a beat, willing his feelings to stay beneath the surface as always. He didn't notice the way your cheeks pinked at the term, too distracted by his own thoughts.

"I'm trying to write down and compile all of your adventures till now," you stage whispered. That surprised him, and he looked at you, noticing the ink smudges on your fingers that curled around the book you had in your hands. He had noticed the smudges and marks increase over time, but he hadn't known what you were doing until now. "When Luffy becomes the King of Pirates, I want to share these adventures with the world. I want them to know the real people behind it all, not some made-up tyrannical version the Marines paint you as. I know firsthand just how kind and thoughtful every person on this ship is, and I am trying to record it in my own way."

"That's…" Sanji was speechless again. Somehow, you always managed to reduce him to that state. An unpleasant smell invaded his nostrils and he looked down, noticing that he had taken his eyes off the food for too long.

"The food!" You exclaimed, standing up from the chair and hurrying over, your book forgotten behind.

"Stay back, (y/n)-chan!" Sanji warned, not wanting you to accidentally get hurt from the hot pot. You hovered at a distance, clearly wanting to help but also not wanting to create more trouble by mistake. With deft hands, he cleared up everything, transferring the food to a different pot and taking care of the burnt one. "There we go. No need to worry, sweetheart, go sit down."

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. Sanji looked up, confused at the apology.

"What are you apologising for, (y/n)-chan?" He asked kindly, walking over to you. He stood a foot away, hesitant to touch but wanting to comfort you. How would you take it if he touched you? Would you be uncomfortable and push him away? He didn't want that. He never wanted you to feel uncomfortable or sad. Or like you had done anything wrong, when you clearly hadn't.

"I distracted you," you said guiltily, looking up at him with glossy eyes. "I promised I wouldn't."

"Don't be silly, sweetheart," he couldn't hold himself back. His left hand cupped your cheek, right one bringing his handkerchief out with a flourish to wipe away the tears welling up in your eyes. "It's not your fault. I was thinking too much, and I made a mistake."

You continued to stare up at him as he wiped the last of the tears and let go of your cheeks, hoping he hadn't crossed any boundaries.

"Sanji-kun…" Your voice was broken and he looked at you in concern. Had he done something wrong? Said something wrong? "It's unfair. It's so unfair!"

"What is, my love?" He asked, trying to figure out what you were talking about as your lips quivered. You were glaring down at the floor, clearly upset about something.

"You," you whispered. "You're unfair. Your existence is unfair. How can someone this perfect exist?"

And now, the usual hammering of his chest was replaced by his heart going stockstill, as if it was holding a breath too, at your simple words.

"The more I get to know you, the more I understand what a kind, loving and warm person you are," you rambled on, like a dam that's finally burst open. "I wanted to get to know you, more than anyone else onboard. So I lingered around, encouraged myself to talk to you. And then, every moment I spent with you just made me fall more and more in love with you. The way you fold your shirt up to your elbows, the look of concentration on your face when you're cooking, that soft look in your eyes when you're talking about food, the sheer strength in your legs when you're fighting, the immense love and respect you have for food. Every little thing about you just made me fall in love with you and I told myself to stay away, but you make it so hard to not keep coming back. I keep wanting to know more and more about you; it's like a hunger that is never satisfied no matter how much I feed it."

There was pindrop silence in the kitchen when you paused, realised what you had said and froze. Sanji's unlit cigarette fell from his lips as he stared at you, wondering if this was a wild self-torturous dream his brain had thought up to torment him with; except his brain could never imagine the way you were now flushed from head to toe, hiding your face behind widely spaced fingers. Your wide eyes peeked through the gaps, the look of utter mortification on your face visible to him even with the obstacles.

"I'm so sorr–"

He didn't let you finish. Sanji pulled you into a tight embrace, his long fingers finding purchase in the nape of your neck where your hair was. You gasped at the sudden action, heart hammering in tandem with his, suddenly realising in the close proximity that you were not the only one whose heart rate had spiked.

"I could ask you the same question, sweetheart," he wrenched himself away to stare you straight in the eyes. His hand reached back and up to hold your face again. You didn't miss the broken and vulnerable look in his eyes as he whispered the next few words, in a way like it was meant to be heard only by you.

"How can someone so perfect exist?"

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #I'm in love with him can you guess

2K notes · View notes

emmyspov · 27 days ago

Text

A Lifetime (Gil-Galad x reader)

Summary: It seemed like it was forgotten in the lore that there were not only Elrond and Elros, but also a third sibling: you. Before Elrond became the High King’s Herald, you had already chosen your fate. Like your younger brother, you would live as an elf, serving the High King and getting a bit closer with him than imagined. Set in the time of the second season of Rings of Power.

author’s note: it’s been a looong time since i actually wrote something, so excuse this crusty-rusty excuse of work, but i just had to write something before i start my job tomorrow, especially after seeing the interview in which benjamin walker stated that he wants Gil-Galad to be kissed! i used “meldanya” for my beloved in the story - and tried my best to keep it gender-neutral :)

warnings: mentions of war and terrible times and kissing? that should be it, if not, let me know <3

word count: 743

edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)

You bowed as you entered Gil-Galad’s chambers: “How may I assist you today, High King?”

Ever since Elrond had been appointed Commander to lead an army to Eregion, you had found yourself almost constantly in the king’s presence, helping him not only with his speeches and council planning, but also your regular tasks. You, personally, were responsible for his well-being, ensuring he ate and drank regularly, selecting his garments for each day, and – over time – also keeping him informed on Lindon’s gossip. It led to you two being… closer with each other than expected. Which in return made the king ask for your presence in the evenings as well.

He never told you, but with the growing shadow over Middle Earth, you were the only one who could put his mind at ease. Especially when you brushed his hair – you were far gentler than any of his maids – and made him smile like no one else could.

He shook his head at your bow. How many times had he told you that you had long surpassed such formalities? With a sigh, he finally spoke, “I’ve made the decision to ride to Eregion.”

Your head shot up. “High King-“

He interrupted you, dark eyes staring into your own. “A king’s place is wherever the need is greatest.”

“You are needed here. What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?”

Yes, one could say you were worried about High King Gil-Galad, but not for the reason others might assume. Sure, he was the King of all Elves in Middle Earth, but now seemed to be the moment to admit to yourself that he had also become the king of your heart.

He smiled sadly. “Let us not part with such dark thoughts in our minds. Please, help me gather my armor and whatever else I might need for this journey.”

What was needed on a journey like the one he was about to embark on? A journey he might never return from. No. No, you couldn’t think like this. So, you did what he asked. You helped him gather his clothes and armor which made him look even more majestic and beautiful, made your way to the stables to check on his horse and even sneaked into the kitchens to provide him with his favorite treat.

The whole time, your mind was racing. Could you tell him how you felt? What exactly were you feeling? All you knew was that you were happiest when you were with him. He challenged you mentally and, at the same time, brought you a sense of peace. You longed for him whenever he was away. Yes, you were infatuated with the High King Gil-Galad.

Which made your parting even harder. You knew that you couldn’t burden him with your feelings – not now, when everything seemed to be on the brink of darkness once more. You watched him as he spoke with his soldiers before he made his way over to you.

“It is time”, he said, taking your hand. “I truly wish you could accompany me on this ride, but I’d rather know you are safe here. Will you wait for my return?”

You couldn’t help your smile. “I’d wait a lifetime.”

“That’s quite a long time, meldanya.”

You nodded and took a step closer, placing your hand on his cheek. “For you, it’s worth it.”

You were so close. You could smell him, feel his warmth even through the suit of armor. “I think, I would really like to kiss you, High-King. May I?”

He stared at you with an open mouth, nodding slowly. He would have never though that you from all beings would feel the same for him. His thoughts scattered when your lips came in contact with his. Oh Eru, they were warm. And so soft.

Before he could process it further, you took a step back. You didn’t want to overwhelm him. But apparently, the High-King had other plans and pulled you close again, capturing your lips in another kiss. He could taste the sweetness of berries as his tongue swept over your bottom lip and and you cupped his face with both hands.

The whole world seemed to stop as you were standing at the gates of Lindon, engulfed in each other’s presence. The king was breathing hard when you finally pulled apart: “Wait for me. Please.”

You only nodded, tears forming in your eyes. You’d wait a lifetime.

#gil-galad #gil-galad x reader #rings of power #rings of power season 2 #benjamin walker #lindon #eregion #rop fanfiction #rop x reader #rings of power fanfiction #rings of power x reader

157 notes · View notes

milktei · 2 years ago

Text

Hold me Tight

Kamisato Ayato x fem!wife!Reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage au, idk if it can be called a slow burn but that’s what I’m calling it, fluff, smidge of angst.

Warnings: unconventional relationship, Reader is described to have long hair that is brushed through. not edited

Requests: Open

a/n: another one out! :o Had to indulge myself a little bit before getting back to requests. arranged marriage au’s are my guilty pleasure and i just felt like writing for genshin again. Hair brushing and physical affection is also just such a big thing for me I had to write it. So if it isn’t obvious i wrote this mostly for selfish reasons and that is the reason why it may be sort of all over the place lol. I hope it’s enjoyable either way!

A hug is all you longed for really. For someone to wrap warm arms around you and let you completely melt into them.

Being married it should be an easy ask

How unfortunate it is for you that your husband wants nothing to do with you.

Although the more you thought about it, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. He did agree to the marriage hadn’t he?

He was the head of his clan, the Yashiro commissioner. Throughout the entirety of the process of arranging your marriage, Kamisato Ayato had every right, and more than enough chances to stop it from going through.

He had nothing to lose if he decided he wasn’t ready for marriage, which was an excuse many citizens of Inazuma had heard over the years.

He really had nothing to gain from it either.

It confused you from the day the elders of your clan elatedly told you that by some insane amount of luck, the Kamisato Ayato had accepted “your” marriage proposal that had been sent in as almost an obligation.

There was no harm in trying and you were now living proof of that.

Why you? out of all the suitors he definitely had, he had chosen you. While your clan was one of the head producers of tea leaves in the country, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around his acceptance, it was not like the Kamisato’s needed the tea, they could have afforded it anyways.

There was no political gain for him either as he was already a tri-commissioner, you weren’t even in line to become heir! Your uncle was the head of the clan and your cousins would follow in his footsteps.

The gossip about you flew all over inazuma like a storm cloud, and you heard it all, people weren’t always subtle in their curiosity or distaste in you after all.

Some of the talk was harsh and negative, and yet you couldn’t help but partially agree with what some people were saying about you.

You were a nobody as far as nobility went. The only reason you could think of as to why Ayato chose you, was likely to reduce the amount of mail that he got, as the marriage proposals had virtually stopped after your wedding. Aside from some particularly desperate people.

Perhaps you really were the best candidate for him. You weren’t a prominent figure in the public eye, you weren’t after the Kamisato’s fame and fortune, and you weren’t the type of person to fawn over your husband 24/7 and demand he shower you in riches and attention.

Although you almost wish that you were. Maybe then you wouldn’t be longing for a hug as badly as you currently were.

While it was true that being married to Ayato meant that you had nearly everything you could ask for at your fingertips, and that it was rare for you to be denied anything—not like you asked for much anyways—the one thing you could not ask for, was your husband’s affection. How ironic. the one person you spewed rehearsed vows to about being his rock and what not, was the one person you could not get an ounce of love or affection from.

Of course you had never really had the chance to try at this point, as despite being married for 6 months already, you can count the amount of times you had a full conversation with the man on one hand.

“I hope that you can find it in you to excuse my lord. He is a very busy man.” Thoma had told you the day you had moved in and your husband was no where to be seen. The look he gave you the mixture of empathy and a wince.

That was the day reality set in. He looked at you kindly on the day you got married. Soft smiles graced both of your features during the ceremony, and you two spoke amicably during the extravagant reception. But this was an arranged marriage, a contract more than a relationship, and you both had duties to fulfill.

A smile that had been drilled into you since your etiquette classes from your youth crossed your face “There’s no need to worry about me Thoma, I understand.”

So you had to learn to get used to being alone in an estate bustling with people. You opened your wedding gifts alone, sorted them accordingly and even sent out an astonishing amount of individual thank you cards to all the guests you had at your wedding.

You often ate alone, save for the times Ayaka and Thoma had time to accompany you. Aside from being reached out to for second opinions or approval you weren’t given a formal job on the estate. Instead you were given an allowance, and were free to spend your days doing whatever you wanted, so long as the Kamisato name was protected.

Yes that was another thing you had to get used to, “Kamisato y/n”, “My lady Kamisato.” Hearing the latter was especially hard, that title felt as if it was reserved only for your sister-in-law, she definitely represented it with more grace than you thought you were ever capable of.

The name and all the responsibilities it came with weighed down on your shoulders unlike anything you had every experienced prior, and here you pushed against it alone. Forced to go through the transition into married life without the other half of the partnership to support you.

That led you to your predicament now. You were coming to the realization that you were horribly touch starved.

It was even worse on cold windy days, or when it rained. All it did was remind you about how your late parents would use those days to curl up with you, a warm blanket, and a book to laze the day away and wish for nicer weather the next so that you could go out on a picnic.

you longed for those days of warmth and love again. Your family had been quite affectionate with one another. While Ayaka would come and spend time with you, treating you like an older sibling. Nothing could reach the craving deep within you.

You sighed to yourself as you walked through the streets of Inazuma, ignoring the whispers of people who passed and recognized who you were.

Or rather who you were married to.

“My lady Kamisato!” greeted the Yae publishing house worker. “You’ve come at a great time, the new volume of your favourite series has just released.”

The worker handed you the book in question and you couldn’t help the excitement that rose within you as you quickly flipped through “I was hoping that I’d be able to pick something up today. I’ve been needing more things to do when the weather doesn’t permit me to go outside. Any other recommendations?”

The worker smiled at you sweetly and handed you another book “Surely Lord Ayato, is able to keep you from getting too bored at the estate my lady?”

Your smile faltered ever so slightly, you couldn’t let it drop in front of the worker, the last thing you wanted was for anymore rumours to spread. You pretended to read the synopsis of the book that was handed to you. “Yes of course, but there are still times where he is not available. My husband is a very busy man.”

My husband, you didn’t think you would ever get used to referring to him as that. He felt like nothing more than a stranger who’s house you happened to live in, who you shared a family name with, who would grace you with a soft smile and a nod as you passed each other at the estate each making your ways to your separate rooms.

A gust of wind blew through the streets and both you and the worker shivered. You looked at the sky and frowned at the dark clouds rolling in, you flinched as a singular rain drop landed on your cheek.

The worker also looked up “it really is rainy season isn’t it?” they looked to you “I would recommend you head home soon my lady, looks like it’s gonna come down any minute now and you’ve got a long walk back to the Kamisato estate”

You sighed, “what a shame, I was hoping to run a couple more errands today.” you payed for both books and placed them into your bag with a smile “thank you for the advice I’ll head out now.”

You walked away from the shop in the direction of the estate, waving behind you as the worker told you to stay safe.

———

Perhaps you should have stayed in town.

You come to this realization as you’re halfway to the estate. Komore tea house would have been much nicer than the weather you were experiencing currently.

The singular raindrop you had felt earlier had slowly progressed into a little more than a drizzle and you groaned to yourself as your clothing grew heavier as it absorbed more and more water.

You should have grabbed your umbrella

It was practically pouring by the time you had gotten to the estate, the trees of Chinju forest providing surprisingly little shelter against the rain.

Quickly, you rushed under the cover of the roof of the estate and sighed in relief once you weren’t being pelted by water. You looked down at you clothes and cringed at the water dripping from the fabric and your hair onto the dark wood

Wringing out what you could beforehand, you opened the front doors of the estate as quietly as you could, albeit in vain as Thoma and your husband were having a discussion right at the entrance.

Both men turned to look at you as the door closed and you could only stare back awkwardly as the sound of water dripping from you clothes and hair, along with your shivering filled the room.

Thoma was the first to break the silence and began fussing over you not unlike a mother hen.

“My lady you’re soaking wet! You’re going to get sick! I’ll have the maids draw a bath for you. Please allow me to grab your belongings. I’ll have tea ready for you once you’re done.

Before you knew it, you were standing in your bathroom with a steaming tub waiting for you. Still bewildered at what had transpired moments before.

Still, Thoma and his efforts were never unwelcome as the bath was exactly what you needed.

You took your time in the bath, taking in the scent of the flowers and oils put in by the maids, appreciating how well the water warmed your once cold body.

Once finished, you were quick to dry off and get dressed, still towel drying your hair as you entered your room.

As promised, Thoma had left a tea set on the table in your room with a container holding tea leaves, knowing you liked to brew it yourself.

The only thing out of place was an extra tea cup.

As if on cue, the door to your room was gently slid open and your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of pale blue hair.

“My lord!” you greeted, the words leaving you mouth before you could even try to stop them.

Ayato paused as the two of you made eye contact, it was almost as if he was surprised himself that you were in your own room.

Ayato was the first to regain his composure after clearing his throat. “Majority of my plans for today have been cancelled due to the weather, I was hoping you could allow me to join you for a bit.”

Your head was spinning, not able to wrap itself around the fact that your husband was in your room and actively trying to spend time with you.

“Of course if that’s how you wish to spend your free time my lord.” you stammered, part of you still believing that this was some sort of dream.

A small shiver ran down your spine and you were reminded of the damp hair that ran down your back. You looked to the vanity in your room and then back at your husband.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to fix my hair situation beforehand.”

“Of course y/n there’s no need to worry, it’s just me.”

That was precisely why you were panicking on the inside at that moment. It was only the man who was so busy, that his presence in the house on a daily basis resembled that of a gust of wind.

You sat down at you vanity and picked up one of your combs, beginning the task of untangling the mess you had created both in the rain and bath.

You nearly groaned out loud to yourself, you had kept your hair long to be able to use the multitude of flamboyant hair accessories you had acquired, but brushing it had always been your least favourite part of the entire process.

A awkward cough caused you to look at the man in your room.

“if you are comfortable with it…I could help you brush your hair.”

You stared in shock at the man in front of you. His face was genuine but you could tell by the reddening of his ears that he was flustered, the most you had ever seen from him.

The combination of being a witness to such a rare site and the fact that you were still in shock that he was there in the first place, had you speaking without much thought.

“That would be very helpful my lord, thank you.”

The surprise on his face was visible You could only hope that your whirlwind of emotions wasn’t as obvious.

Still, not one to go back on his word, Ayato gently took the comb from your outstretched hand and began to work. His powerful presence behind you almost causing you to curl in on yourself.

He was gentle, his hands warm as they followed your comb, a warm feeling spread throughout you chest as he so carefully detangled your hair, taking his time.

You hoped that he wouldn’t be able notice through your reflection just how flustered you were at this moment. Your face was hot, your breathing was slightly rapid and you couldn’t find it in yourself to look up at the mirror in fear that your eyes would connect.

Yet this moment felt so intimate, so tender and domestic. You could almost believe that you two were much closer than you really were.

A soft chuckle broke you from your thoughts.

“This brings me back.” Ayato sighed wistfully, “when we were younger, Ayaka would let me do this for her. Though she seemed less than impressed when I would try different styles on her. I wonder if she would trust me with her hair again after all this time.”

You smiled down at your fidgeting hands “I’m sure she would if you promised no more experiments my lord.”

Ayato hummed in contemplation “I suppose you may be right, but at the same time maybe I won’t need to ask her if I already have yours within reach.” He leaned closer to your ear, “After all, am I wrong to assume that you are enjoying this my dear wife?”

Your face felt like it was on fire, you had never heard him call you that to your face before. You could feel the smug smile that was currently gracing his features as he leaned back and continued his actions.

“Well?” He urged after a moment

“No you are not wrong to assume that my lord.” You managed to stammer out. Your hands clenched into fists in your lap as you forced yourself to say the truth, knowing well that he would be able to see through any lie.

He sighed. “Please y/n I think we’re at a point where we can drop the formalities.”

Your eyes widened at his words and you spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“Are we really?”

His hand that was holding the brush froze mid stroke, the room was suddenly filled with a chilled silence and you cringed at the amount of malice an anger that you managed to fit into one simple question.

This was no way to talk to the man you were married to.

“Forgive me my… Ayato. I did not mean to sound so harsh I just-“

“No no there’s no need to apologize.” ayato assured. He raked a hand through your hair and chuckled bitterly, “I supposed it is my fault that you feel this way about our…situation

You opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out. What he said wasn’t a lie to make you feel better for snapping at him. It was entirely the truth and you were grateful that he understood where you were coming from.

“Finished.” He stated softly before placing the comb back on your vanity. “I hope that I haven’t worn out my welcome.”

You paused for a moment, thinking about the situation you found yourself in, while wanting to get yourself out of the awkward moment, you knew that a chance to spend time with him again would be rare.

“You haven’t, don’t worry,” you stated as you slowly rose from your seat. Still refusing to look up at him you gestured to the low table where the tea set sat, “Please have a seat, I’ll brew the tea for us.”

It was quiet as you worked, the only sounds in the room being the clink of tea set, and the crinkle of tatami mats. You thanked Thoma in your mind when you saw that he had prepared leaves that were better steeped in lower temperatures, as the water had cooled down since he first boiled it.

“We’ll have to wait a couple minutes.” You said as you closed the lid of the teapot. Ayato nodded and an awkward silence filled the room.

“I don’t want to use me being busy as an excuse.” Ayato suddenly blurted out.

You finally look up at him in surprise “Pardon?”

Ayato cleared his throat “My apologies. It’s just that I know that everyone has been using me being busy to excuse me for being absent in this relationship. While I know that lin its simplest terms, what we have between us is a contract, part of me still hoped that I would be able to get to know you well and we could be much more than strangers. There are many times where I could have put my work aside and spent more time with you, but I for some reason I never found myself taking those opportunities.”

He looked almost guilty as he continued. “Now here I am, months later knowing next to nothing about you, and on top of that I expected you to be comfortable with speaking casually around me when we have barely even spoken before.

You pondered to yourself as you poured tea into his cup “Well if it makes you feel any better,” you poured more into your own “I also know next to nothing about you.”

“Unfortunately that only seems to add salt to the wounds my dear.” Ayato grumbled.

Your eyes widened at the pet name and you quickly lifted your teacup to your face to hide your embarrassment.

Ayato followed suit and hummed in satisfaction as he drank. “Well I do know one thing now. My wife is excellent at brewing tea. It must run in your family’s genes.”

You waved him off “it’s just something that comes with experience, my uncle is the true master.”

“I also now know that my wife finds it hard to accept compliments.”

“Hey!”

Ayato smiled at you teasingly as you glared at him, though there was no anger behind it.

“Well now that’s unfair,” you stated “I should get to learn something about you now.”

Your husband raised an eyebrow, “well what would you like to know?”

You faltered for a moment, not expecting him to relent so easily, “well…” you stuttered, “what type of tea would you consider your favourite?”

“Really digging deep are we y/n?”

“I couldn’t think of something straight away!”

Despite the teasing, the questions continued, it was as if you were on a first date.

Except you were already living together and married.

One question was asked after the other. Ranging from you asking him about the daily life of a tri-commissioner, to him asking about the books you had bought earlier in the day.

It was only after Thoma had brought dinner to your room, that you had finally asked.

“So why me?”

Ayato’s chopsticks paused mid air “Why what?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, he was playing dumb.

“Why did Inazuma’s most desired bachelor, Yashiro commissioner, leader of the famed Shuumatsuban, and the man who brought the Kamisato Clan back to its former glory, the Kamisato Ayato. Decide that a nobody from a tea producing clan was the one you would want to spend the rest of you life with.”

Ayato looked at you in exasperation “You aren’t a nobody y/n there’s so much more to you.”

“We don’t need to get down to the specifics, don’t avoid the question!” You exclaimed, ignoring the pleased smile on his face as he took in your flustered state.

Ayato put a hand to his chin and hummed as if contemplating something grand. He took a moment to respond. “Would you believe me if I said that I found you to be a very interesting person y/n?”

You stared at him blankly.

“Don’t lie to me we didn’t even meet until the wedding.”

The smile that he sent you sent a chill down your spine “Well I suppose that’s true in a sense, but we have been in each other’s presence on multiple occasions.”

You couldn’t mask the your surprise, “we have?”

Ayato looked at you incredulously. “Surely you know how often the Yashiro commission requests supplies from your clan for the multiple events we host.”

You fiddled with your teacup “Well sure but that doesn’t mean that it was a guarantee that we bump into each other. I’m sure I would have remembered being in the presence of you of all people.”

Ayato shrugged, “Being in the public eye is much more my sisters domain. I tend to stick to the shadows during bigger festivals that I’m interested in. During one of these times… you caught my eye.”

Your eyes widened “I did?”

He looked bashful as he continued his story, you were sure that you were the first person to ever see him in this state.

“I always knew of you, as I often meet with your uncle for business. I don’t know if you know this but he often worries about you and tends to talk about you during these meetings.” Ayato hummed in contemplation. “Perhaps it was a tactic to make me say yes to the upcoming proposal”

You groaned in horror at the realization that the two men had been talking about you “I apologize for my uncles actions.”

Ayato waved dismissively “Thats not the point. At a festival is where I first saw you and was able to put a name to a face. What I didn’t expect was the fact that everything about you had fascinated me. The way you danced and had that kind of sparkle in you eyes as you wandered around in wonder. The way you kindly greeted everyone you met. I found myself looking for you at following festivals to see if that was always how you looked…it was.”

“So it was only my looks” you teased

he sighed exasperated “Of course not”

You laughed “I’m kidding. Keep going.”

“Then at one point I was due for a meeting at your estate with your uncle and I might have listened in on a deal you were striking with a business man. The confidence in your voice was obvious and the way you negotiated with grace and kindness, yet still with firmness, had me intrigued within the first couple seconds of me hearing it. My interest only grew when your meeting had concluded and I saw you step out. with an accomplished smile on your face”

You gaped at him, you very rarely took part in your family’s business deals, only helping with what your cousins or uncle were too busy to handle. For him to be there at that time on that day was truly a great coincidence.

“You really piqued my interest that day. Although it was not my first choice in ways to get closer to you, when I saw the proposal sent by your clan, everything seemed to fall into place.” Ayato laughed but his tone soon turned solemn.

“Unfortunately not everything worked out for me, because look at how things are going. I left you to fend for yourself against the public, we rarely see each other, and this is the longest we have ever spoken despite being married for months. I think I was just afraid of crossing any boundaries, after all this marriage is arranged and I had no idea as to how you felt about me.”

Without thinking you reached over the table and grabbed one of his hands in both of yours, touched by how vulnerable he was being with you, “I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage so easily if I thought ill of you in any way, while I may not have known you, you also piqued my interest. I won’t lie I was- still am extremely shocked, but I saw nothing bad coming out of this marriage really. It started off slow but we’re talking now, and well, don’t you think we’ve made some great progress?”

He smiled endearingly at you, “yes, I am grateful for this opportunity and hope that we can continue on this path.”

You laughed, “now you’re making it sound like a business deal.”

After that, you and Ayato finished your dinner making pleasant conversation. The sun had long gone down when he made the call for the both of you to retire for the night.

He once again stood in the doorway of your room, only this time you were standing right in front of him.

“I’ll have a heavier workload tomorrow but I think I’ll be able to join you for dinner again.”

You smiled up at him “I would like that, please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with, I’m part of this clan too you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you y/n.”

There was a pause and Ayato reluctantly continued. “Well I should take my leave for the night.”

As he turned, something seemed to overcome you, and you grabbed at his wrist,

“Ayato.”

He froze and turned to look at you curiously. you shyly looked away, “before you go. May I have a hug?”

He gave you a teasing smile, “this is all happening so fast, what will everyone think?”

“Oh please we’re already married.”

He laughed and his smile softened.

Without anymore words, Ayato opened his arms.

You couldn’t hold back the giddy smile that crossed your face and without hesitation you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace for the first time in what would become many.

A scent that was uniquely his filled your nose, and as you pressed against his chest you could feel and hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as you wrapped your arms around his waist. A need you had been suppressing for months had finally been fulfilled. His hold was strong and comforting, his hold making you feel like you again.

Ayato chuckled to himself as his grip tightened, “well now I’ve found myself in a predicament.”

Still holding onto him, you turned your head to look up at him. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to let go.”

#genshin impact #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin x reader #ayato x reader #genshin ayato

2K notes · View notes

corazondebeskar-reads · 11 months ago

Text

the art of breaking (dark!joel miller x f!reader; dead dove do not eat)

the art of breaking part one | part two

very dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

written for the #deaddovedecember2023 event hosted by @romana-after-dark | also on ao3 | dedicating this to @kewwrites, who is a master and icon of unsettling-but-still-romantic dark fic & whose incredible vibes made me feel brave enough to write this. love you ty 🖤

dividers by @saradika-graphics

NOTE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

Seriously, I am saying this as clearly as I can: read the warnings carefully. If anything listed is something you don’t want to read, don’t. The working title for this was “the darkest joel” for a reason (and I actually tamed it down/cut out some of the intense scenes). It’s modern-day/no outbreak, but Joel still lost Sarah and went off the deep end. He was probably a good dom at some point, but now he’s just fucked up.

If you're worried it'll be too dark, it probably will be.

Warnings under the cut:

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, very dark!Joel, BAD bdsm etiquette, not SSC/RACK compliant, sadist!Joel x masochist!reader, coercion, corruption, manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, captivity, sadism, masochism, pain play, extreme punishment, semi-permanent damage (a bone is broken, I’m not fucking around), whipping, spanking, face slapping, tit slapping, impact play in general, mentions of vomit (no description), oral, anal, vaginal, degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, edging, denial, dacryphilia, bastinado (mentioned), restraints, very brief knifeplay, tiny drop of blood play, Joel sees reader as property, inadequate aftercare

Again, I cannot say this enough. This is a dark fantasy and should not be taken as representative of a good d/s relationship—it’s abuse masquerading. Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I’m condoning it.

Please read responsibly.

I. in media res

-the fracture

There’s one comfort Joel almost never denies you.

Well, never denies himself.

Unless you’ve been real bad, you always take your place in bed with him at the end of the day. You think it’s so he has easy access to you if he wakes up horny, but honestly, that happens a lot less than expected. He works hard all day; he needs his sleep.

No, he likes the comfort of your warm body next to his. The way you curl up and press kisses to him, no matter how bad he hurt you during the day. His sweet little pet, desperate for every bit of his affection you can earn. He’s always gentle with you here.

It’s part of what makes The Pit so effective.

It fucks with your brain on so many levels, exposes you to so many fears, and then you have to reconcile that you were bad enough for Joel to deny himself the comfort of you in his arms at night. That you’re so undeserving of his love.

Of all of the ways he punishes you, this will be the worst. You can take the humiliation, the pain—not easily, but you can, and there’s usually immediate care after.

But a night in The Pit will tear you down completely.

You hadn’t known what to expect when he said you’d have to spend the night alone, but it wasn’t this.

“No, please,” you scream, stumbling to keep up as Joel pulls you by your hair.

“Shut up,” he snarls.

The soil is loose, clinging to your sweat as you try to right yourself. It’s a futile effort. When you reach The Pit, he holds you down with his boot on your chest while he unlocks and opens the bars.

“Get in,” he says.

You’re sobbing and shaking, skin already gone cold. Somehow, you manage to obey.

The Pit is exactly what it sounds like. It has an open wooden frame with mesh on the side walls to keep the dirt in place. The bottom is bare soil. Mounted to the top of the beams is a grate of bars that sit flush with the ground.

It’s big enough for you to curl up at the bottom—which is what you do now.

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

He shuts and locks the gate.

II. from the start

-intact

It was kismet, really, that he was there that night. He didn’t usually go out for drinks with the guys, not wanting to be the boss who was always cramping their style. But Tommy had dragged him out tonight, and so he was witness (with the rest of the pub) to your relationship falling apart.

And okay, maybe he went outside for a smoke after you moved the fight to the alley so he could eavesdrop. But it wasn’t his fault. How could he not?

You had said, “Maybe you’re just not man enough for me,” to the brawny but pathetic prick across from you in the booth. “Wanting you to be rough doesn’t make me a freak.”

“That’s not rough; that’s fuckin’ abuse. You’re sick,” your boyfriend had practically shouted.

The discussion evolved into a screaming match in the alley, where Joel had been pleased to be right. It was about more than just a little rough sex or spanking.

At the end of it, your boyfriend stormed off, and you went back in the pub. Joel found you at the bar, throwing back another shot and wiping your tears away.

“You did good back there,” he says.

You startle and look at the stranger. The very handsome stranger. Rugged, with a salt and pepper beard and a scar across his nose.

“What do you mean?”

“Standin’ up for yourself. Not a lot of people woulda been confident enough. ‘Specially not a girl lookin’ for that.”

You glare at the bar counter. “M’not a weirdo.”

“Nah, you’re not. Shit like that is perfectly normal. He’s just pathetic.”

You look back up at him, and he sticks one hand in his pocket, trying to adjust himself discreetly. The tear streaks on your cheeks are getting to him.

“I don’t know. He’s probably right. It’s not your garden variety shit,” you say. The tequila and his gentle eyes have loosened your tongue.

“I doubt that. Try me,” he says.

“What?”

“Try me. Tell me what he freaked out over, and I’ll tell ya if it’s weird. Trust me, I’ve seen it all.”

You hesitate, but he looks genuine and kind. “I asked him to hit me. Like, in the face. And to, y’know, pin me down and—” you trail off.

“And make ya take it?” he guesses.

You nod. “He thought I like, I dunno, actually wanted to be raped,” you whisper the last word, eyes darting to the people around you.

Joel laughs. “Honey, that’s so normal, you wouldn’t believe. I’ve helped ladies out with that little roleplay more times than I can count. If that’s your deepest, darkest fantasy, and he couldn’t take it, then you’re better off without him.”

“It’s not,” you mumble.

“Speak up, honey.”

“It’s not my deepest, darkest fantasy. It’s probably one of the least of them.”

He grins. “Then you’re definitely better off. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with likin’ things on the darker side, sweetheart.”

You’re feeling hot all over and are about to ask him more when your phone rings. It’s your idiot boyfriend, who’s realized you have the car keys.

“I better go. Thank you,” you say, standing and offering him your hand.

He gives it a firm shake, tipping his head. “I’m Joel. And if you’re ever so inclined, I’d like to take you out sometime.”

You laugh. “Let me break up with my boyfriend first, Joel.” But you dig a pen out of your purse and write your number on one of the tiny bar napkins.

Your first date was so normal. You’re not sure what you expected. To jump right to hardcore sex?

But no, he turns up at your door in a neatly pressed green button-up, black slacks, and an ostentatious belt buckle. He greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a bouquet of wildflowers, lavender stalks nestled between pink honeysuckle and red salvia. Not a traditional arrangement, but it reminds you of a summer sunset.

“From my garden,” he says a little sheepishly, but you like them a lot better than some generic store display. You tell him as much and his cheeks flush a little.

You return the kiss and pop the flowers in a vase of water before he sweeps you off in his pickup. You aren’t surprised, really, but it’s more charming than some of the other men and their gaudy trucks.

Joel’s is older but well-kept, with minimal rusting around the wheel wells. The bed is open, and you can see streaks of grease and paint spills. A silver tool chest is mounted against the back of the cab. Everything inside and out has a light coating of sawdust.

He isn’t some insecure man with a truck big enough to make up for what isn’t in his britches, that’s for certain. You’d hazard a guess that the corded muscle of his forearms and the breadth of his shoulders are well-earned.

He holds the door open for you, which you tease him for as you slide onto the truck’s bench seat.

“Ain’t doin’ it ‘cause you’re incapable,” he drawls. “Or because you’re a lady,” he adds when he sees the glint in your eye.

“Oh yeah, cowboy?”

His grin is lopsided, a little dark. “Nah. I just think you deserve to be taken care of, s’all.”

You flush, the back of your neck burning, but you don’t fight the smile that threatens to break out. “Thank you, Joel.”

He shakes his head. He’s pretty sure, now, that if he plays his cards right, he’s found somethin’ special.

He waits three whole dates to take you to bed, and even then, it doesn’t start dirty.

“Let me get to know your body first, baby,” he urges when you ask him to fuck you rough. Instead, he takes you apart piece by piece. First with his tongue, and then his fingers. He brings you to the edge over and over, but never lets you fall.

After a while, you’re a broken record, pleas and sobs spilling from you.

“That’s music to my ears, darlin’,” he says, pulling his fingers out abruptly to see how your cunt throbs for him. He spits on your clit and watches it drip down to join the mess between your thighs.

“Please, please, Joel,” you beg.

“Please who now?”

“Please, sir,” you try, and are rewarded with his sharp grin. But not with an orgasm.

He slaps your cunt. “That’s more like it, baby. You remember who you’re talkin’ to, alright?”

You nod. “Yes, sir; thank you, sir.”

He shakes his head, sucking on your clit for a moment before pulling back to get a good look at you. “You do like a little pain, huh?”

“Would like more,” you say.

“Oh yeah? What would you let me do to you?”

“Anything, please, sir.”

He clicks his tongue at you. “Don’t go sayin’ that to someone you barely know. It’s okay to mean it when you trust somebody, but you’re gonna end up in more trouble than you bargain for if you pass that out like candy.”

“I do mean it.”

“Yeah? You’ll let me do this?” His open palm smacks across your face, leaving a sting tingling on your cheek and a lightness to your brain.

Tears spring to your eyes, but you nod frantically.

“What about this?” he grabs a nipple in his calloused fingers and yanks, twisting.

You yelp, but it trails off to a moan, and you nod.

“Goddamn, baby. S’good. But what about this?” He flicks open the switchblade he keeps in his pocket.

You jerk and whine, eyes wide and wet as he brings it to your breast. Your breathing falls shallow as you try to hold still, the point scraping the delicate skin as he circles it. But the look you’re giving him almost has him cumming in his pants like he were twenty years younger.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding. I mean, you’ve gotta have limits; everyone does. But you just want me to hurt you, huh?” He digs the tip of the blade in a little on the side of your breast, cock throbbing as you gasp, and you both watch a tiny drop of blood bead and trickle down the blade.

He puts it away. “No,” he says when you whimper. “Not today. I ain’t prepared for all that.”

Joel doesn’t like to break his toys. Not permanently. Just enough that he can put them back together how he likes and then do it all over again.

“Don’t need to be prepared; just do it,” you whine.

He slaps you again and wrenches your head up with a hand in your hair. “First of all, I fuckin’ told you no. Second, I know you want to be a stupid little cunt for me, but I’m not about to cut you open without any goddamn first aid shit.”

He leans back and smacks the breast he had cut. He hits you over and over, alternating sides, until your chest burns, and you’re sobbing.

He looks you over briefly and then shoves his hand between your thighs. “You’re wetter than a slip ‘n slide, baby.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, and wipes the tears from your cheek with his thumb. He feels your cunt twitch when he brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean.

It’s the last straw for him. He’s not opened you enough, but he has a feeling you’ll like it better this way anyway.

You cry out, back arching when he shoves into you. He meant to go slow, he really did, if only to drag out the anticipation. But you’re so warm. So wet. So he just stuffs himself inside.

It’s not that he doesn’t believe you love the pain; it’s just that he can’t resist feeling the evidence for himself. He slaps you across the face while you’re still processing his cock, and the resulting clench and jerk of your body drag a moan from him.

He holds back, regulates his urge to pull each whimper and scream from you, but it’s still so fucking good. It’s been a long time since he’s doled out real cruelty to a slut like you who loves to suffer.

When he finally lets you cum, it’s when he’s about to. He pulls out and spanks your cunt, granting his permission. As your pussy flutters desperately around nothing, he cums on it, watching the way it gets prettier as he paints it.

You black out for a minute. When you come to, he’s wiping you down gently with a warm washcloth, wicking the sweat off your face and chest before cleaning his cum from your curls. You whimper, and he grins, leaning over to steal a kiss.

Even after that first night, he goes slow. He can’t scare ya, not while you still have someplace to run. Plus, it’s so much easier if he starts planting the seeds for your training now.

He knows you’ll beg for it, anyway. He’s been getting the nastiest text messages from you. Part of it is the dopamine; he’s not stupid. But part of you really wants this shit. And the rest? Well. You’ll get there.

It’s the little things. He orders you a black decaf at the drive-thru when you ask for a latte. You start to correct him, like you think he’s made a mistake, but he gives you a look, and you shut your mouth immediately.

When he pulls away from the speaker, you look over at him again. “Sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry…?”

You squirm a little, heart pounding, unsure if he’s really doing this at the Dunkin’ Donuts. “Sorry, sir.”

He smiles and rubs his hand on your thigh where it peeks out from your skirt. “Thanks, baby.”

And that’s all it takes. You take the cup when he hands it to you and you’re quick to say, “Thank you, sir,” even though the kid at the window is still passing things through to Joel and can clearly hear you.

-fissured

It goes on like that for a couple of months, but it doesn’t all go so smoothly. One night, he picks you up from work and takes you to a restaurant, saying he wants to treat you. Halfway through the meal, he asks for your panties.

“What?” you say, shocked at his vulgar language in the dining room.

“Take ‘em off and hand ‘em to me.”

You go to stand, probably thinking you can go to the bathroom to obey.

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Right here, right now, baby.”

“Joel,” you hiss, sitting back down, “I can’t do that.”

He fixes you with a calm smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, raising one finger in the air. “I’ll give ya three choices. The first one, the one I’m going to advise you pick, is that you do it right now, and I’ll only punish ya for talkin’ back.”

“The second one,” he holds up another finger for emphasis, “is you can go to the bathroom to take ‘em off, but you’re gonna pay for it when we get home. The third one is where you don’t listen, we leave right now, and you learn to fuckin’ regret it.”

Your breathing is shallow, and your pretty eyes are shining. If he wasn’t fully hard before, he is now.

“I-I can’t,” you whimper. “Please, sir.”

“You got about thirty seconds to make up your mind.” The softness is gone—from his voice, from his face, from the set of his shoulders.

“Fuck,” you whisper, and you stand up. You’re only in the bathroom for a minute, and when you sit back down, you try to hand them to him under the table.

“Nah, that was only a choice if you were good,” he says, smirking and laying his expectant hand on the white linens.

Mortified, you ball them up tight in your fist and press them into his hand. He slides them into his pants pocket.

He doesn’t say anything else about it for the rest of dinner, asking instead about your projects at work and your visit with your parents over the holidays. You feel sick, barely eating a thing, and biting your lip to stave off the tears.

As soon as you’re in the truck, you start to cry. “I’m sorry, I was just scared and—”

“Shut up. You made your choice. You’re not sorry. You’re just afraid of the consequences.”

“N-no, I am sorry, I mean it.”

“You’re gonna have to prove it.” He doesn’t look at you on the drive home, doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t even turn the radio on; just listens to you sniffle.

When he parks, he sets his hand on your thigh. “Don’t worry, baby. I know you can be my good girl. All you gotta do is take your punishment and learn from it, okay?”

You sniffle again and nod, blinking through tear-laden lashes at him.

“So pretty when you cry for me,” he murmurs. He gets out and comes around to open your door, offering a hand to help you step down from the tall truck. You take it, and he holds on, leading you inside his house.

He sits sprawled on the couch, thighs parted wide to make room and waits until you’re comfortably kneeling between his legs. You’re sat in silence, head bowed, arms folded behind your back.

“Tell me what you did wrong today.”

This is a first, but not a last. Even on days when nothing egregious has happened, you will follow this ritual. He’ll ask for your sins, and you’ll confess. There will always be something you’ll owe him for.

“I argued when you gave me orders. I was disobedient.”

“Anything else I need to know about, baby?”

“No, sir.”

“Why’d you argue?”

“I was afraid. I’m sorry.”

“Save your grovelin’ for after, baby. Why were you afraid?”

“I didn’t want people to see. I didn’t want to get kicked out or arrested.”

“You think I’d let anything happen to you? You think I would have given you an order that put either of us at any kinda risk?”

Your face burns. “I—”

“I thought you trusted me.” He sounds hurt, and you’re a little nauseous when you look up to see his eyes wide and sad, lips turned into a wounded scowl.

Your shoulders slump. “I didn’t think. I panicked.”

“Hmm. Okay, I can work with that.”

You look up at him, brow scrunched and lips pouting as you try to parse his words.

He smiles. It’s cold, and his eyes are steel.

You swallow hard, and his grin widens, quirking into a smirk.

“Alright, baby. I got just the thing.”

He leads you into the ensuite. You kneel on the little rug by the tub while he fills it. You’re too afraid to ask what’s happening, so you just sit quietly. He leaves the room and doesn’t come back until the tub is nearly full, and you’re starting to worry that you were supposed to be monitoring it.

He comes back in, and once it’s nearing the lip of the tub, he turns off the faucet. He has you kneel on the top of the three steps leading up to the edge. It’s the most luxurious thing in this house, and you suspect he installed it custom so he could soak his aching muscles.

He bends you over the edge so you’re leaning close to the water and crouches down behind you. It’s a pleasant surprise when he spreads you wide and licks from your clit to your asshole.

He stays there for a few minutes, indulging in your wet cunt and the cries it draws from your lips. After he’s had his fill, he stands up and lubes up his cock before pushing his way into your ass. He’s generous with the lube but rarely preps you, since you both like it better when it hurts.

You’re writhing a little beneath him, wriggling your hips to try to ease the passage. Once he’s fully seated inside you, he grabs the back of your head and shoves it under the water before fucking hard into you.

You thrash, displacing water from the tub, until he yanks you back up.

You gasp for air and scrabble to get a grip on the wet tile, but he pushes you back down and groans at how tight you get while you’re struggling.

He pulls you roughly back up. “Gonna keep going until you stop makin’ a fuss.”

You go to protest, to panic, and he pushes you back down.

The next time he pulls you out, he spanks you until your skin is burning. “Fuckin’ trust me. You think I’m gonna let you drown?”

“No, sir,” you cry, but it’s garbled as he pushes you back down. You’re still fighting him each time.

He pulls you back out and repeats the beating. “Relax, or we’re gonna be here all night.”

He continues the process a few more times and then gives you a reprieve, letting go of your hair so you can rest your cheek against the cold edge of the tub while he pounds into you. He reaches and rubs featherlight circles around your clit until you’re softly moaning.

“You gonna trust me?”

“I’m trying, my body panics,” you pant.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to ya. You hear me? You know you’re panicking, so focus on me instead.”

“Yes, sir.”

It shouldn’t make sense, but you think he’s long warped your brain anyway. The next time he pushes you underwater, you clench your fists tight and focus on what oxygen you do have, even if he knocks a little out with each thrust.

His hand in your hair is your anchor and buoy. You tense when you feel your body start to jerk, trying so hard to control it.

He pulls you up. “Just like that, baby. Again.”

It gets just a little easier each time. He leaves you under longer, until your lungs are burning, and you’re on the edge of gasping in water, but he pulls you out in time.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well.” He’s a little fascinated. He hadn’t really been sure it could be done or if your survival instincts would go into a frenzy. But here you are, letting him almost fucking drown you.

Not that he would.

Despite being balls deep in your tight little asshole, he isn’t trying to reach his orgasm. Not yet, staving off his pleasure so he can keep a clear head.

He keeps it up just a little longer. You’re getting tired and tolerating less and less time underwater. The last time he pulls you up, he pinches your clit and tells you to cum while he fills you.

He dunks you again while you cum, and you clamp down on him tighter than you have before, convulsing on his cock. When he pulls you back up, you’re gasping and sobbing. He pulls out and wraps you in a towel, easing you to the wet floor while he cleans up.

When he comes back to you, he helps you stand and dry off, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“So?”

Your brow furrows. It’s not what he usually asks after a punishment, but you think you know what he means. “I’m sorry. I trust you, I promise.”

“I know. M’so proud of you for taking that. You’re turning out so nicely, sweet thing.”

In the morning, you’re almost late to work after sucking him off when you should have been getting dressed. He’s about to walk out the door to head to the site when he hears your frustrated voice from the bedroom.

“Joel, where are my underwear? I need to fuckin’ leave.”

“I told you, baby. There was a price to pay when you picked the bathroom. Y’ain’t wearing ‘em anymore.”

“What?”

He doesn’t need to see you to smirk at the shocked expression he knows is on your face. “We’ll talk about it more tonight; I gotta run.”

-avulsed

“Y’know, baby,” Joel says, leaning forward to rub your shoulder. “They just don’t fuckin’ appreciate you.”

You’re bent over, elbows on your knees, crying with your face buried in your hands. You sit up and sniffle, wiping the tears. “It’s fine; it’s not like I need to be coddled at work.”

All the stress of the PR world is getting to you, and you hate it, you fucking hate it, but you dropped 50k on a degree, so now you’re stuck.

“But they make you work all this overtime, cut your team in half, and then berate you when you can’t meet the client’s deadline? You do not deserve that, baby.”

You let him coax you into his lap, facing him so you can bury your face in his soft, worn tee. He rubs your back and holds your head to his chest.

“You’re too good to me,” you mumble.

“Nah, darlin’, I’ve told ya a thousand times. You deserve to be taken care of.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I, well. I was thinkin’...”

You wait, but when he doesn’t pick back up, you sit up and look at him.

“I dunno. It’s nothin’,” he says.

“Please tell me?”

“Alright, fine. Now, I don’t want ya to feel any pressure. It’s just a thought. But maybe you should just quit and stay with me a while, ‘till you can find something better?”

You can’t tell if he’s joking. He must see something on your face, because he tips your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes.

“I know it’s sudden, but I mean it. Let me take care of ya while you figure shit out. We don’t gotta treat it like living together if y’ain’t ready. But I’d be open to that conversation, too.”

It doesn’t take much more than that. The first couple weeks, he lets you give it a try—searching for new degree programs, applying for jobs you know you’re overqualified for just to try something different.

After nothing pans out, he suggests you both take a week off. Him from work and you from the burden of trying to escape unemployment. Just relax, like a little staycation.

It’s bliss. You go on dates, eat pizza and marathon the “Jurassic Park” movies, and fuck like crazy.

On the third night, he sits you down. On his cock, of course. While you’re bouncing and brainless, he cups your cheek. “Baby, you’ve been too damn stressed still. What if we… well, what if we tried out a day or two like we’ve been talking about?”

Sometimes, you whisper to him in the darkness, usually while he’s balls deep, how you wish you could be his all the time. His good girl. His pet. And he whispers back, lures you right in with promises of taking care of everything, of you not having a worry or care in the world. Just him.

Now, he fondles your tits while he murmurs to you. “We can just wake up together, and I can take care of ya. Everything you need, baby. All you’d have to do is be good for me, yeah?”

You moan and grind down harder on his cock. “Please, sir. I want it more than anything. Just to be yours.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Joel had no patience for brats, so he usually broke his toys in sooner into the training process. He liked ‘em nice and obedient—scared, if that’s what it took, but devoted. But you had been from the start—you wanted to be good in all the ways you could never seem to be to other people. Your family, your job, the world seemed to just demand more and more.

Joel was the first person to make you feel like you had actually, really, truly pleased him. There wasn’t a higher mark you should have made. There wasn’t any expectation for you to give more and more.

His orders were complete, always. You learned that very quickly. Attempts to go above and beyond were rebuked.

“If I wanted that, I woulda said so,” he told you. And like everything else, you committed his words to memory.

It helped that he gave praise freely. You didn’t have to wonder if he was satisfied, if you should have licked him differently, if you should have made prettier faces while you came. He reassured you until you believed him, and then kept going anyway.

It made it easier for him to slowly peel you away from the ungrateful world.

“You don’t have to take that,” he’d say after watching your face fall further and further while on the phone with your mom. “Family ain’t supposed to make you feel like shit.”

They made it too easy, really, and your relationship with them would have likely just fizzled out. But in the end, he had to step in and snap it off.

You asked him to come with you to dinner at their house. He was hesitant. He wasn’t really the boyfriend type. He wasn’t really even your boyfriend. That was too weird a word for either of you, not when he owned you.

But he knows you didn’t want to go alone, and he has a feeling he’ll be cleaning up the mess anyway.

You want to give them a chance. Things have been so tense, and they said they missed you. But they didn’t even make it through the entrée without ridiculing you.

When your father asks how work is going, you quietly confess to quitting, hastily reassuring them that you are looking for a new position. Though, and you keep this part to yourself, you maybe haven’t been trying that hard.

“What do you mean you quit? How are you paying your bills? You better not have come here to ask for money,” your father says, setting down his fork to glare at you.

“Well, I’ve been living with Joel,” you mumble to the tablecloth.

“I didn’t raise you to be a gold digger,” your mother chides.

Joel tries to bite his tongue and let them dig their own graves. But your father calls you a “fucking whore,” and he can’t stand it. Can’t stand the way you’re cowering in your chair, fighting back tears.

“You watch your mouth,” Joel snaps at your father.

You look up, mouth agape, eyes darting from Joel to your parents.

“Mind your business,” your dad tells him.

Joel stands up and throws his napkin on the table. “She is my fuckin’ business. I wouldn’t stand by and let anyone talk to her like that. You’re not an exception just because you managed to get it up long enough to cum in your wife.”

“Joel,” you whisper, tugging at his sleeve. You’re burning, melting on the spot, from the vulgar way he’s talking to them. For him, someone who’s always strict about manners and proper hospitality, to talk back like this? God, you think, he must really love you.

He puts a hand on the back of your neck and holds firmly as you lean into it. He rounds back on your parents. “You treat her like fuckin’ dirt beneath your feet, and I’m tired of it. You don’t deserve the fuckin’ dirt beneath her feet.”

He shoves his chair back and grabs your hand. “C’mon, baby; we’re leaving.”

You take it and stand up, letting him pull you along. Your father follows you into the foyer, and you try not to look at him while you shove your shoes on.

Joel holds your coat out while you slip into it, and you tune out whatever your dad is yelling now. You don’t want to hear it; you know it’s nasty, and your whole world has narrowed to Joel anyway.

He holds out the key. “Go wait in the truck, baby.”

And you do.

He comes out about five minutes later, red-faced and huffing with fury. He doesn’t say a word when he gets in; just throws the truck into reverse and pulls away. You both ignore the blood on his knuckles.

Once you’re on the road, he looks over at you and sighs. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You unbuckle and slide over to the middle seat, tucking your hand between his warm body to curl around his arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Whaddya sorry for? None of that was your fault.” He kisses the top of your head and cups your cheek at the stoplight. “It was gonna happen eventually, anyway.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the ride home is silent while you breathe in his comforting musk and try to relax. But the tension is unrelenting, the horrible rotting feeling eating away at your spine.

He knows. Knows what you need, knows what he can do to seal this moment forever. He waits until he’s unzipping the pretty little cocktail dress you’d stressed over.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs, breaking away from where he was sucking his claim down your neck to swap out your delicate necklace with his collar.

He unhooks the bra and kisses the marks he left behind with the cane, your penance for being allowed to wear it. It leaves you bare to him, and his hands turn greedy. He presses biting kisses against your lips while digging fingers into your bruises, swallowing your whimpers.

He grabs you by the neck and squeezes the sides of your throat, holding you to him while your vision blurs. When he lets go, you stumble, but his arm around your back holds you upright. He slaps your face with quick, sharp blows in rapid succession to keep you unsteady.

“Knees, hands behind your head,” he says, and lets go.

You fall but are quick to right yourself and take the position. He wastes no time, giving you another harsh smack before grabbing your hair and shoving his cock into your throat.

You choke and gag but keep your hands in place even as your head spins. You feel limp and grateful that he doesn’t seem to require any effort from you as he uses you without mercy.

“Look at you. You’ve got my whole cock down your throat. You’re so fuckin’ good for me.”

Your eyes are already glazed over, and you moan your appreciation around him.

He pulls out and hauls you to your feet. “I know what you need, sweetheart. Get your ass downstairs.”

He fucks you, beats you, uses you wherever he wants. But the basement is where he keeps the heavy equipment and where you know you’re about to have your mind and body pushed to the absolute limit.

You’re ready, he thinks, when he gets down and finds you waiting perfectly in place for him, eyes wide like he’s descended from on high. He jerks a thumb to the wooden post, and you meet him there.

“Forget about what they want you to be,” he murmurs as he closes the steel cuffs around your ankles. “You know what you want, baby. Right?”

“Mhm,” you nod, already slipping away into that safe place only Joel can get you to.

“What do you want to be?” he asks, binding your arms up over your head to the eye bolt at the top of the post.

“Yours.” It’s half-whisper, half-whine.

“Yeah? You just wanna be mine? You don’t want to get a new job?”

“No,” you finally confess. “But—”

“But what, baby? If you say somethin’ about money or bills, I’m gonna be mighty unhappy.”

You bite your lip. “I’m scared one day, you’ll wake up and not want me anymore.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, sweetheart. You think I put all this work into helpin’ you, into teaching you how to be mine, just to toss ya out? You’re hurtin’ my feelings.”

“I’m sorry,” you say automatically.

He slides a silicone cock into the bracket lined right up with your mouth. It’s a fairly standard size, since he knows you’re going to thrash around and doesn’t want you gagging too much and throwing up.

Your torso gets tied to the post by your tits, the wood nestled between them and rope woven around. Securing you there forces your head onto the toy, but he doesn’t make you take it all the way. You keep your mouth open and don’t move closer or further, waiting for his command.

“Suck on it whenever you’d like. You’re going to need it.”

Your eyes roll back a little at his promise. If he thinks you’re going to need something in your mouth to self-soothe, you’re in for an absolutely amazing time.

“Focus on me. That’s all you’ll need to do from now on, baby. No more worries in that pretty little head, okay?”

The first strike is a warm-up. When you feel the lash of his favorite whip lick your ass, you moan. It’s a moderately short signal whip that he wields like a fucking pro. His warmups are quick but thorough, and you’re squirming when he moves on to your thighs and shoulders.

“Already?” he says, laughing when you whine around the silicone cock.

You’re absentmindedly sucking on it when he starts a harsher assault. A particularly sharp strike stings at the valley where your ass meets your thighs, and you yelp, jerking a little and gagging yourself on the dildo.

His smirk burns into your back as the cry melts into a moan, and you writhe a little, trying to get friction where you need it most. What you get, though, is the tip of the whip against your cunt.

By the time he moves around to your tits, they’re covered in spit, heaving with the effort of holding back your orgasm. He comes up to you first, and pinches at your nipples.

“Aw, does my dumb little cunt want to cum?” He croons, tugging and twisting until you moan. He laughs when all you can get out is a muffled “mhm.”

“Tell ya what. You can cum all you want while I hurt you tonight, okay?”

He punctuates it with a particularly cruel pinch, and that, combined with his permission, is all you need to let the pleasure shudder through you.

“Yeah? You gonna get off to being my little toy? Gonna let me do whatever I want?”

You moan around the fake cock, easing it further into your throat.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He doesn’t give a warm-up on your tits, figuring you’re already so far gone it doesn’t fuckin’ matter.

He’s right. The first lash is harsh, a welt blooming across the top of your breast in its wake, but you groan, trying to press your cunt up against the post for any relief.

You don’t need it, though. He brings you to your peak again with the skilled flick of his wrist, landing blows across the fat of your breasts. He waits until you’re mid-orgasm to bring the whip hard across your nipples.

The resulting wail almost makes him cum in his pants. He does it only twice more, relishing in your agony, but restraining himself from just letting loose. Not with the whip, as much as he’d like to. Maybe later with a flogger.

Once he’s taken it as far as he’s willing to risk, he moves back around to give the rest of you the same treatment. The hardest hits push you over the edge, and by the time his arm is getting tired, you’re sobbing and writhing in your restraints, overstimulated in every way.

He unlatches your ankles first, helping you find steady footing before untying your wrists and torso. You drop to your knees and open your mouth, throat aching for his cock after the tease of the toy.

He doesn’t have the willpower to torment you by denying it tonight. Instead, he nearly pops the button off his jeans in his urgency to pull his cock out and shove it as far down your throat as he can.

Your arms find their place behind your back, and you just take it. He fucks into you without restraint. It’s filthy, from the mess you’re making to the wet choking sounds he pushes out of you with each thrust.

You’re shaking, and he pulls out abruptly.

“I said while I’m hurting you. You don’t get to just cum from getting facefucked.”

“Then hurt me, please,” you sob. It’s right there; you’re so close.

He slaps you across the face and laughs as you cum, shoving back into your throat while you’re still riding out the aftershocks.

He pulls back out, and you whine until he yanks you up by the bicep and pushes you over to the padded bench, bending you over it and shoving into your sopping cunt.

“Still disappointed?” he teases.

“N-no,” you pant. “Please hurt me.”

“Beg me properly, greedy little cunt.”

You clench around him just at the words, but obey. “Please, sir, please hurt me so I can cum. Please.”

“I’ve been hurtin’ you all night, baby,” he says, voice thick with false pity. “Don’t you want me to be gentle with you now?” He can feel how hard you’re trying not to cum as he mocks you.

“No,” you sob. “No, love me, hurt me, please.”

It’s got an edge of desperation and heartbreak to it that he just loves.

He smacks your already bruising ass until you sob harder, shaking uncontrollably as you cum. He wraps his hands around your throat and fucks you through it until he cums, hips stuttering, and filling your cunt with his spend.

He lets himself collapse a little on top of you, pinning you with his weight against the bench with his softening cock still buried in you. “Feel loved now?”

You’re still crying, and when he folds his arms around your chest, elbows resting on the table, you cling to him. “Love you,” you murmur over and over, pressing kisses up and down his forearms.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing and sucking at you. “I know, baby. You know I love ya.” He’s half-hard—not something that happens a lot anymore at his age, so he’s not gonna waste it. He pulls out just to manhandle you up onto the bench on your back, climbing up between your legs and shoving back in.

It’s a little sloppy until he’s fully hard again; your combined cream making things a little too slippery. Once he’s erect, though, he sets a punishing pace, folding you in half with your legs up by your ears. He works your clit with his hand, relishing in the way you’re fucking exhausted and overstimulated, but your poor clit’s been neglected. It means he can twist and pull on it, tugging until you give him more and more, until you’re sobbing for mercy that you know you’ll never get.

He doesn’t ease up until he pulls out to cum over your tits and face.

“Mine,” he snarls, shoving his fingers into your swollen cunt and feeding you what’s left of his first orgasm and your… well, he’s not really sure how many. A fuckin’ lot. “You’re all mine. Little fuckin’ toy to do whatever I want, right?”

You’re still gasping for breath, having been half-suffocated in that position, but when you look at him, it’s like he’s a fucking god. “Yes, sir.”

-broken

The day had started out fine.

He’d laid out a dress for you to wear. Sometimes, he made you go around bare for a while, just to fuck with your head a little, but he prefers to unwrap you like a present.

Plus, the sight of you crawling around in nothing but a slutty, barely-there dress is picture-fuckin’-perfect. He’d know; he’s got a bunch of ‘em on his phone.

And crawl, you do. You haven’t been allowed to walk further than a couple of feet in a long time. There’s penance to be paid if you can’t avoid it.

Joel collects your penance whenever possible, gathering what’s owed for your sins and dealing out forgiveness when it's settled. It’s how he shows his love.

And he does love you. How could he not? Such a perfect little toy. He’s spent so much time training you right to be his prized possession.

He knew it’d happen eventually, so when you commit one of the worst offenses, he has to make it count. You were testing your limits, of course; he had expected it. He had expected it months ago. It was worse now, after you’d been so good and earned so much trust. But now that you’d been nothing but his for two months, you had finally fucked up.

Your punishments were never painful. Okay, they weren’t pain-focused. Sometimes, he had to put you over his knee to let his frustration out before he could give you a proper punishment. But the pain wasn’t the point—you both liked it too damn much. No matter how much farther he took it than a regular session, and no matter how sick you were with guilt, you were always a soaking wet mess after a beating.

This time would have to be different, though.

It was time to finally break you.

He knew as soon as he got home. Not the particulars, but that you’d made a huge mistake.

On the surface, nothing was amiss. You were knelt by the door in your pretty little dress, a short number in navy blue. You had your head down and arms folded behind your back in perfect posture.

But something was off. It didn’t feel like you were happy he was home. And he was pretty sure there would only be one reason for that.

He hung up his keys but didn’t bother to take off his shoes, coming to stand in front of you. “What’d you do?”

You flinch and have to re-tense to hold the position as a sob escapes you. Your hands are balled into fists to fight the urge to cover your face. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask if you were sorry. I asked what you did.”

If it were still the early days, when this shit usually happened, he might have been just a little softer. At least until he coaxed the confession from you, anyway. But you were in too deep, now, too entangled in this life that he had little patience for your reticence.

“I—”

“I recommend you spit it out. You’ll tell me in the end, anyway.”

You start to cry. “I can’t say it.”

“You better figure it out pretty fuckin’ fast, little girl.”

“I had an orgasm,” you blurt, whimpers escalating to sobs.

He pauses. It’s worse than he thought. The rush of disappointment and anger sends his heart racing, and his fingers flex in longing for a cane.

“Did you enjoy it?” he says.

It catches you off guard. “No, I promise.”

“That’s too bad, ‘cause it’s the last one you’re gonna have for a while.”

You aren’t surprised; you’re actually relieved. Of course, of course he’ll fix you.

He finally takes his shoes off and sets his phone on the counter, beckoning you to follow him to the living room. Taking his seat on the couch, he waits until you’re settled at his feet.

“Why’d you do that, baby?”

“I-I didn’t mean to. I was edging for the last time today, and I don’t know what happened. It was just there, and I knew it, I knew it was coming, and I—” You choke on the guilt, the grief.

“You what?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t convince myself to stop. I kept thinking ‘no, you stupid cunt,’ but I couldn’t pull my hand away.”

He regards you for a moment. He’s burning inside, but trying to calculate the most effective approach.

“Thank you for telling me right away,” he says, but even though he means it, the words are cold and clipped. “Which hand?”

You look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “What?”

“Which hand did you use? Give it to me.”

You lift up your right hand, and he cradles it in his.

“Listen close.” He waits until he’s sure you’re focused on him, on his words.

This is where things have fallen apart in the past. No amount of training and manipulation can get someone across this hurdle; they have to mean it. The last thing he wants is someone running to the police because they don’t fucking understand how serious he is.

“This is going to be your last chance to back out. I will stop right now and let you pack your shit and leave. But if you stay, you’re agreeing to anything I do to you past this point.”

You bite your lip, stomach churning. “You’re scaring me,” you whisper.

“Good. You should be scared. What you’ve done is one of the worst things you could have. That’s got some serious consequences, baby.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“I gotta hurt you. Bad. Y’ain’t going to like this; I can promise you that. I can’t punish your cunt because you’re such a stupid pain slut; anything short of permanent damage is gonna make you wet. And I’m not lookin’ to do permanent damage.”

Your lip trembles, heart pounding. You’ve never been so afraid, but you’re also enthralled. Lured in by the timbre of his voice and the salvation it’s promising.

He squeezes your hand where he’s still holding onto you. “I’m going to break one of your fingers.”

Your heart falters, blood rushing. “Oh god,” you whisper, shaking your head. Instinctively, you tug back on your hand, but he grasps it tight, tight enough that you feel the bones grind under his large fingers.

“It’s up to you. That’s half the price for forgiveness. The rest is gonna be spending the night alone.”

Somehow, that sounds worse. You can’t breathe.

“Gotta choose, baby. You wanna go? I’ll pay for a cab. You can walk away, but you can’t ever come back.”

You think you might be drowning. Leave? How could you leave? There’s no debate in your head; you have nothing without Joel. Nowhere to go, no one to turn to. And the idea of losing him feels catastrophic.

You’re crying again, and you’re vaguely aware of his soothing voice trying to coach you through breathing. When you focus on him, just like he’s taught you, you start to calm down.

It’s Joel, you think. He’ll take care of you. And he said he didn’t want permanent damage. You just have to suffer for your betrayal and he’ll forgive you.

“I think I might throw up,” you warn him.

He sighs, the fear of losing you flooding away, taking some of his anger with it. “We’ll do it in the bathroom.”

He stands up, and you follow, albeit slowly, as the wave of nausea rises. You do throw up as soon as you get in the bathroom, thankfully making it to the toilet. He holds your hair and rubs his hand across your shoulder blades.

“It’s okay, baby, get it out of your system. You’re being so brave for me,” he croons. He helps you up to sit on the edge of the tub and gets you a little cup of mouthwash.

“I’ll help you brush your teeth after,” he promises. “I’d do it now, but, well. You’re probably going to puke again.”

When you’re done swishing the mouthwash, when it’s all turned to foam and you’ve spit it back in the cup, he swaps you for water. You rinse and spit that, too.

He’s laid a few things out on the counter. You feel dizzy all over again. Something tells you the comfort you feel is wrong, but he’s prepared an ice pack and medical tape, and has four little ibuprofen out next to another cup of water.

The other, louder part of you is whispering, see? He’ll take care of you. The act of wondering what’s wrong with you feels like a farce. You’re thinking it because you think you should, just going through the motions.

He takes off his belt and brings it to your mouth. You clench it between your teeth, letting a shaky breath through. His hand cups your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“I knew you were somethin’ special,” he whispers. You’re not sure he meant to.

Your whole body is shaking uncontrollably. He watches you for a moment, worried you’re going to faint, and then sits on the floor with his back against the tub, pulling you into his lap. He lays you back against his chest, caging you in with his arms and thighs. The ice pack sits to his right, already popped and frozen. Waiting.

Gently, he lifts your hand and brings it in front of your chest, taking it in his left. It’s a macabre mockery, the way he cradles it in his palm, fingers wrapped around the sides. In his right hand, he notches his thumb on the knuckle of your middle finger, bringing the other fingers in below it.

He doesn’t drag it out, doesn’t take pleasure in your terror. When he moves, it’s faster than a gunshot. Your scream is raw, breaking free from the spaces between your teeth and the belt. The taste of leather will remind you of this moment for the rest of your life.

He has the ice pack on it before you mentally register that it’s over. You’re sobbing. Horribly, he’s right, and you are sick again. He holds your hair in one fist, holding the ice pack to your mangled hand in the other.

When you’re done, he pulls you back against him, wrapping his limbs around you in a perverse embrace as you shake harder. With his free hand, he brings a damp, cool cloth to your face, cleaning you of the viscera of your sickness.

He’s shushing you, head bent close to your ear. “It’s alright, baby, it’s over. You did so good. I’m so proud. I love you so much.”

It’s good that he doesn’t expect an answer because he doesn’t get one. You’re too lost in the pain and shock.

When it’s time to take a break from the ice, he grabs the medical tape and wraps it around your index and middle fingers. You cry out again as he jostles the break. Once he’s splinted it, he lowers your hand gently to your lap so he can grab the medicine.

“I can’t; I’ll throw up again,” you say, voice cracking.

“Don’t have a choice, baby. Gotta keep the swelling down.”

He feeds you each pill, one by one, chasing them with sips of water.

You look so sad and precious that he almost feels bad. Unfortunately, he’s also rock fucking hard, so he shifts you a little to pull his dick out.

You don’t say anything when he lifts you to lower you on it. He’s careful, trying not to shake you around too much. He was right; you didn’t enjoy this pain. You’ve never been this dry for him before, and you whimper pathetically at the pinch and sting of his girth.

You may be worn out and in agony, but your cunt doesn’t get the message. He grins when he feels you getting wet and clenching around him. He doesn’t push it though, doesn’t torment you, just fucks up into you gently until he fills you.

You’re limp against him now, and he presses a kiss into your hair. “You may have to walk for a bit,” he muses. “But I’ll cap your penance at ten.”

You wince. Ten strokes with the cane on the soles of your feet every day until your finger heals? You usually only owe enough for two or three. It is a mercy, though, so you nod and thank him.

Joel can hardly contain the way his chest is flooding with warmth. You’re so close; he can feel it. So close to being completely his to put together just the way he likes.

He can’t wait to take you to The Pit.

-kintsugi

You’re cold. So cold. You’re curled in on yourself, tucked into a corner in the hopes that you’d be able to keep warmer. Your whole right hand throbs.

Moonlight only cuts across the corner, but it’s a comfort still. The soil is loose and you keep shuddering, feeling the tickle of a dozen phantom insects.

Worst of all, your chest aches, like he may as well have hewn you open. Dry sobs work their way free every now and then, leaving your mouth tacky and your throat full of cotton.

The only rest you get is when you blessedly pass out. Every time you close your eyes voluntarily, you see the heartbroken look on his face when you begged him not to leave you there.

“I wish I didn’t have to. I wish you hadn’t broken my trust and I could keep you close, baby. But you’re never going to learn how to be good if I don’t show ya.”

Bad, I’m bad, he doesn’t want me anymore, you think to no end.

When the sun starts to rise, you’re limp, still in your corner. You barely turn your head when a shadow falls over The Pit, but your heart starts to pound when the lock clicks, and Joel raises the gate.

“Oh, baby,” he says, soft and sorrowful. “C’mere.” He reaches out a hand, and you scramble to him, letting him take your left arm in his grasp and pull you out. You move immediately to your knees, body bent forward as your knotted muscles protest. He scoots his boot out of the danger zone near your broken finger.

You keep whispering, a broken record of “Sorry, please, I’m so sorry.”

He picks you up and holds you to his chest, shushing until you fall quiet. It doesn’t take longer than a few seconds as your brain desperately clings to any scrap, any way you can be good for him.

He brushes the loose dirt from you before going inside and upstairs to the ensuite. He sets you on the little rug next to the full garden tub, and he tests the water with his fingers before peeling his clothes off.

You flex your left hand, balling it in and out of a fist. You’ve never been particularly ambidextrous and wonder how you’re going to wash him without falling in or hurting your hand.

Before he gets in, he feeds you four more little red pills. Once he’s settled, he reaches out and guides you carefully by the waist, pulling you into his lap in the warm water.

That’s all it takes for you to start crying again. He doesn’t try to quiet you; just holds you there against his chest and lets you sob.

By the time you’ve calmed, the water has cooled, but instead of getting out, he just drains a little and runs more hot water.

Joel tips your chin up gently with the knuckle of his index finger. “You ready to be my good girl again?”

You nod, lip trembling.

Joel does nothing you hadn’t asked for. The trouble for you was that you asked for too much. Gave him too much. And it was far too late to get any of it back.

He gave what he could, though. Couldn’t replace what he’d taken, so he pours himself in the cracks, puts you back together with a firm hand and loving care. Sure, his love doesn’t look like what you’re used to, but he knows you see it for what it is.

“I know, baby. You took that all so well. Don’t worry,” he pauses to kiss you, “I forgive you. My perfect little toy.”

pls be nice, I'm so nervous about this.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dddne #tw noncon #non con #dark fic #tw abuse #seriously heed the warnings #don't like don't read #deaddovedecember2023

619 notes · View notes