#if I didn’t ever have to work again I would not. so thrilled for him! but I’d miss him :(

[crucifyjonnie]

♡ Assassin!Mattheo - First meeting

Summary: Mattheo got assigned the mission to end you, and he would find you at every price. But what he didn’t know was that you already knew about him.

Warnings: mentions of violence, dark themes, blood, stalking

Mattheo held the photo of you in his hand, studying your features thoroughly. Your coffee-colored locks falling down your shoulders, crystal clear eyes that could make any man drown. Sharp jaw, plump lips, and a small button nose. A beautiful creature, but he had been taught they were the most dangerous. Charming with their looks, devil in their soul.

For weeks he had been studying you, tracing your every step during the day. Keeping himself in the shadows to not be seen, keeping a distance between the two of you. He made sure to know your exact locations during the day, tracking down where you lived, where you worked, what gym you went to. Keeping the time of when you woke up in the morning, when you went to work, when you had lunch, when you got off work. He followed you to the gym, kept tracking what you trained. He had it all written down and made sure he wouldn’t miss a single damn detail.

Tonight was the night. The night where he was supposed to take your life, the night where he would see your blood pool around your feet, the night when he was going to witness life leaving your eyes. 

Mattheo pulled on his black cargo pants, together with his black leather holster. A pitch-black, tight t-shirt clothing his tense torso. He pulled on a black zip hoodie, pulling up the hood to cover his head. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, running his hand through his locks. Adjusting his holster, he placed a gun with a silencer  together with five throwing knives. His eyes still locked with his reflection, he picked up a throwing knife and spun it around his finger before putting it back in the holster together with the other four. 

Somehow, a strange feeling pooled in Mattheo’s stomach this night. Usually, he was never nervous going on his missions. But this time, it felt different. It was something with you, something with the picture of you, something with the way you were. Somehow, it didn’t feel right. He shook the feeling quickly and went out the front door. 

Walking down the pavement, Mattheo kept his mind on the one thing he had to do tonight, and then he saw you. And you saw him. Eyes locking for the shortest of seconds before you disappeared into the shadows. Mattheo followed shortly after, trying to comprehend the small and first interaction the two of you had ever had. You couldn’t know about him, could you?

Mattheo found himself in a dark, old, abandoned warehouse. He looked around but couldn’t see you. Only your footsteps echoing in the dirt of the empty warehouse walls. Mattheo looked around but couldn’t see even a glimpse of you in the shadows. 

“Mattheo… Riddle? Correct?” 

Mattheo’s eyes widened, twisting and turning his head. He could still hear your footsteps on the dirty floor, circling around him in the shadows. 

“You didn’t think I knew, did you? To be fair, you’re not so subtle when you stalk people. I’ve known your presence for the last few weeks.” 

Exasperation grew like a knot in Mattheo’s stomach. The thought of you knowing he had kept track of you all this time was damn near bewildering. It felt almost like a bad joke, and he couldn’t understand how he could’ve missed something like this.

“And if you have known all this time, why haven’t you done anything to prevent it?” Mattheo’s voice was firm. He felt calm, though the uncomfortable feeling of you knowing about him still lingered.

“Because… Where would the fun in that be?” Your voice was still echoing between the walls. You stood in the shadows, having Mattheo right where you wanted him. You aimed your gun towards him; the bullet would hit right in the middle of his forehead. But then he spoke again, and you lowered your gun.

“Yeah, you’re right. Where would the fun in that be? Bet you love the thrill, don’t you?” Mattheo’s voice took on a taunting tone. “Like you wanted to be followed.”

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. Not in his wildest dreams could he believe in his own words. But right then and there, a throwing knife flew right beside your head, cutting your cheek, if only so slightly. With the tips of your fingers, you wiped away the blood. But when you looked up again, Mattheo was gone. Your blood ran cold in your veins because now you knew he had turned the tables, and with a sudden pull, he dragged you out of the shadows and into the middle of the room. 

“If we’re going to play this kind of game, we’ll play it fair.” Mattheo’s eyes bore into yours. You had only seen him from a distance before, except for the photos you had of him. But his features? Oh, he was handsome; his chestnut hair, his deep dark eyes, sharp jawline. You two weren’t so different from each other––both had experience in the same field, assassins. But it didn’t seem like Mattheo knew about that. 

You stood in the middle, and Mattheo circled around you like a wolf ready to eat its prey. His eyes roamed up and down your body, but his eyes were glued to the cut on your cheek. He reached his fingers to the cut, tracing it with his fingertips. “Such a shame…” he said with a low and husky voice, though a smirk tugged on his lips. “What is?”

Mattheo leaned into your ear, moving a strand of hair before whispering, “That I have to kill you.”

© cvrcingjonnie 2025. Please do not copy, translate or repost any of my works. Reblogs, likes and comments are welcomed though ♡ you are accountable for your own media consumption.

[holy3cake]

Hello, Trouble

Chapters: 2/2

Fandom: Boarders

Rating: Explicit (only part 2)

Pairing: Rupert x Male Reader

Summary: After attending St Gilbert's on a scholarship, you start to reminisce on your time away from home. It's the Spring Ball, and Carol has just given you your final marching orders. Is it too late to admit that you have a massive crush on the dumbest boy in school? Is your deviant roommate going to even care that you're being expelled? Perhaps Rupert cares about you more than you think, but there's only one way to find out.

"Sure, Rupert was possibly the worst roommate you’d ever had, but you would miss the chase. It was thrilling, not knowing whether the arrogant Aphrodite would ruin your life or fall into a soft caress."

Chapter 1: Repression

As the ugly coach pulled up, you tried not to roll your eyes at the students milling about at your side. Most of them had leafy-green faces, matching the hideous lining of the so-called school bus. It was due to binge drinking of course, which despite your course leader constantly lecturing on the subject, was falling on deaf ears. Even though you never really liked the taste of cheap cider or stupidly expensive whisky, you always joined in. It was a ritual of sorts, and you knew better than to dob Abby in if she popped the pills out again. Of course, the distraction never worked for you. Not even as you boarded the bus and bumped into the class harlot, flicking her unsightly fair hair from her face. Florence was poison, but you’d never tell her why you hated her so much. You’d laugh, and pretend every word out of her whorish mouth was hilarious. Which is what you chose to do at that moment, chugging down a swig of your luxurious yet foul Scotch. 

“Oh, Florence! Gorgeous heels, darling.” You drawled, knowing full well that she was wearing last season Prada. She simpered, blowing an egregious kiss full of Tiffany and stark perfume back in your direction. 

“Thank you! It’s our Spring ball, have to make an effort you know?” Florence looked you up and down, as if she was sneering at your outfit choice. Possibly as she wasn’t used to seeing such bare skin in public, or she had no taste whatsoever. You knew it was the latter, when her tongue was so far down Jahiem’s throat. With a forced smile you giggled back, straightening your striped jacket. 

“I completely agree. Enjoy your night, Flo.” It was difficult to stay civil with her, but you forced down your disdain to move further along the bus. Florence wasn’t worth a minute of your time, and you didn’t want to look at her powered face any longer. You swore that she scoffed behind your back, but again, it wasn’t worth a sneeze let alone an acknowledgement. Instead you decided to locate your friends, a genuine smile spreading across your face when you discovered Toby and Abby canoodling at the back of the bus. They leapt apart at your arrival, blushing madly as though nothing had ever happened. Toby patted the space beside them, and you clinked his bottle of vodka with your own glass as you plonked down. 

“‘Sup rude boy? You got beef with Flo again?” Toby grinned, throwing his arm around his sweet girlfriend. Unlike Florence, you’d been friends with Abby for years, and you knew she wasn’t the enemy. Even if she would report back to the blonde witch, you didn’t exactly hide your feelings regarding said cow. 

“She’s playing J. You know that.” You jogged your knee, hoping Toby would be pacified with that response. 

“Nah, bro. Ain't our business, is it? You sure it’s not because she dissed your man?” Toby smirked, sensing the oncoming jab that you delivered to his ribs. 

“He’s not my man, he’s a fucked-up mummy’s boy that thinks he’s God’s gift. Just because he’s my roommate, I don’t have to give a shit about him, Tobes.” At the mention of the deviant living in your shared dorm, your anger flared. Toby seemed to have some delusional idea that you cared about him, even though you despised him more than Florence. But as you stewed, you didn’t realize Abby and Toby quietly cackling at your outrage. 

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, baby. So what if you have a thing for him? It’s not like anyone else does.” Abby shrugged, kicking her feet up. 

“How about the fact that he’d beat the shit out of me? I don’t need that drama.” You didn’t resist the urge to roll your eyes this time, gulping down throatfuls of heated alcohol to match the fury on the outside. 

Rupert Watlington-Geese was a menace to society. You’d seen the videos of him pouring champagne on homeless people before you’d even joined the school, and the real man was worse than the internet fiend. On your first meeting he’d hidden your boxers and claimed it was an initiation ritual, forcing you to go commando against itchy school trousers in the first period. Childish pranks would’ve been fine, but his behaviour had started to get rowdy from your second glance. From the rumours that the little shit had spread, you’d had more sexual experience than most B-list celebrities. You didn’t hide the fact that you were gay, but somehow you’d had a threesome with two teachers and sucked off four boys behind the bike sheds. But you knew Rupert’s game, and somehow had grown used to the inane stunts that he’d pull in an attempt for attention. 

In other instances, you would’ve grown tired and ignored him from the get go. However, if you had, you wouldn’t have seen when Rupert’s mischievous eyes grew sad, and he’d cried dismally into his pillow. You’d never tell Abby or Toby in a million years, but you knew how warm Rupert felt when he’d melted against you in a depressive episode. If his dad had promised to visit but stood him at the last minute, Rupert would always come to you for comfort. Florence was useless in those moments, she’d never understand how fragile Rupert was under all the ego and false cockiness. So perhaps you were a little more susceptible to Rupert’s fragility than you thought, but he didn’t make it easy on you. One day he’d be flashing you his trademark smirk, pretending that he enjoyed his empty existence of pranks and hurting people. On another day, he’d be breaking down in your arms and blinking back tears through those beautiful chestnut eyes. That was another thing that irritated you. Rupert was fucking gorgeous, and a combination that you’d never encountered before. He was ethereal, pale skin glowing in the darkness like some mystical creature. His hazel eyes were always looking at you, whether they were earnest or scheming. And those curls. God, you wanted to tug those magical curls until he cried. Okay, maybe you were lying a little to yourself. There was a definite attraction there, but you were 90% certain that he’d smash your face in if you told him. 

As you were daydreaming, it was as though your thoughts could summon fiction into reality. The man in question bounded up the bus steps, and Abby took the opportunity to torture you further. She sent you a cheeky smile before making her intentions clear, and you turned in horror to the spare seat beside you. 

“Rupert! Join us!” Abby’s voice perforated your ears like a megaphone, and you knew you had to move quickly. But to your dismay, the coach had filled up in record time, and you couldn’t move without leaving the bus entirely. Instead, you downed the remains of your Dalmore single malt and smiled with too much teeth as Rupert sat beside you. His outfit could’ve given you a cardiac arrest, but you remained calm. His rumpled curls were slicked back behind his ears, exposing far too much of his neck. Rupert’s black silk shirt (if you could call it that) cut down into a sharp v-shape, exposing a little bit of his chest. The scent of Lynx Africa infiltrated the bus, and you wanted to gag, or gag him. He looked like a ridiculous rich boy that had been dressed by Carol, yet your jeans grew tighter at his appearance. You wanted to strip him bare, to rip away whatever hideous designer clothes that his mum had chosen for him and pin him against the faded bus seats. The Scotch was making you reckless, and you had to relax, lest actually find out what Rupert’s tongue tasted like. 

“Hi, dickhead.” Rupert greeted you, which didn’t help in the slightest. Today he was wearing his snarkiest grin, which made you want to bite the arrogance away. But then you felt the pang of empathy, causing you to look away and grip your arm. Honestly, you knew why you were feeling such a whirlwind of emotions. Carol had delivered the final blow to your confidence earlier that day, and you had to tell Rupert the truth. 

What was the truth? That you’d lost your scholarship, of course. That’s why you were scrambling to answer a sarcastic salutation from your nemesis, because you had to tell him that you’d never see him again. You wondered if he’d even blink at your news, or if he’d just tell you it was a valiant effort and you didn’t belong there. Sure, Rupert was possibly the worst roommate you’d ever had, but you would miss the chase. It was thrilling, not knowing whether the arrogant aphrodite would ruin your life or fall into a soft caress. Yes, you had stroked his wet cheeks before. But as Abby had declared weeks ago, the Spring ball was certainly the time to tie up loose ends and live the night like it was your last. So, what was on your agenda as the bus pulled away from the school and headed to one of the rascal’s ridiculously large estates? You turned to Rupert, flicking your fringe from your eyes as you beamed at him. 

“Hello, Trouble.” You beamed, eyes sparkling as you gazed into those cat-like eyes. 

Tonight, you were going to break a preposterously ugly bed, donated by the National Trust. Or two. And a thousand year-old table, when Rupert suggested it. 

Chapter 2: Liberty (NSFW WARNING HERE)

It was hard to remember how you ended up in this situation, with Rupert’s hands down your pants and your dick ready to burst with his rough onslaught. But you definitely weren’t complaining, you just wished you had a clearer head when your tip started to throb. Rupert’s hot breath was on your neck, and with one hand kneading your balls and one expertly caressing your cock, you tried to withhold the gasps escaping your throat. It wasn’t until you gripped the rich boy’s shoulders that you halted him, cursing yourself for delaying such a strong orgasm. 

“Rupert! Wait, wait. My head is spinning.” The Scotch had been brutal on you, and you definitely didn’t want to ruin the mood by passing out or throwing up. Rupert raised one eyebrow elegantly, but obediently pulled his hands away. What you didn’t expect was for him to hold your hand, steering you to sit on the creaky bed in whichever bedroom you’d decided to argue in. He left for a moment, returning with a glass of water that he’d seemingly produced from nowhere. As you took the glass, your hands met again and you tried not to let the soft feeling linger. It was so out of character for him to be kind to you, but you drank the cool water regardless. He sat almost tentatively beside you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Beatrix wasn’t trying to hurt you, you know. She was trying to stop a fight.” Rupert suddenly announced, staring up at the four-poster bed. 

“What?” You sat up, finishing the water. 

“You called her a nosy cow. You called Florence a lot worse but…” Rupert shrugged, trying to hide the grin on his face. 

Hearing the word cow suddenly brought a drunken flashback into perspective. You’d arrived at the party in good spirits, clinging to Toby and Abby like a third arm. But the underlying tension was still gnawing at you, and you tried to dance as though nothing was wrong. You’d danced with Jahiem and Femi, which didn’t cause any problems, not until Jahiem had sought out Florence on the dancefloor. Pretending as though you were on top of the world, you’d gritted your teeth again and offered to spin Florence around. Except when she’d slipped conveniently into Jahiem’s arms, you’d called her a cheap slut that opened her doors more frequently than a lift. That was until Bea had gently tapped you on the back with gentle eyes and pure intentions, which had only aggravated you further. 

“Oh, Bea. I should find her and apologise.” But as you tried to stand, your head whirled and Rupert sniggered at your attempt to walk. 

“Might be a bit hard, considering you can’t use your feet. Sit down, you cock.” Rupert tutted at you, but there was a curious look in his eyes. 

“What?” You glared, crossing your arms. 

“You’re concerned about Beatrix, but you won’t apologise to Florence?” Rupert frowned, but you weren’t sure if he was annoyed about that. 

“No. Why should I? Because she’s your precious little girlfriend? Please.” You managed to laugh, leaning back against the ugly bed sheets. 

“Don’t take the piss. She’s not a slag.” Rupert growled, making you jump. You were unsure of his feelings before, but he seemed content to play second best to his ex-girlfriend again. There was a protective spark in his tone, and even though you should’ve yielded, you couldn’t care less. If he wanted to get back with his girlfriend whilst simultaneously wanking off another guy, it wasn’t your problem. That was his prerogative, and you had nothing left to lose anyway. With a bitter laugh, you nudged his shoulder and rolled your eyes. 

“I really don’t care what she is. Go and waste your time chasing after her, Rupert. I’m sick of your constant bullshit.” Finally regaining feeling in your legs, you rose from the bed and stumbled to the door, fumbling for the handle. To your surprise, the deviant was back at your side, blocking the exit. 

“I mean it! Get out of my fucking way.” You squared up to him, ready to fight. You were pretty sure that was what caused Rupert to touch your cock originally, but that wasn’t your main focus anymore. His moping and whining had set your veins alight, and there was no point at all listening to him defend his “true love”. 

“You’re sick of my bullshit?! What a joke! What about you, huh?” Rupert cornered you, and you held up your fists defensively. Whilst you weren’t sure if he’d actually hit you, you couldn’t tell his mood right now. The strutting peacock had shown his feathers, but the arrogance wasn’t the same as usual. Rupert seemed to be lashing out because he was hurt, it was written across his face in petty insolence. As you took a step back he followed you, glowering with those frighteningly beautiful eyes. 

“Hanging around the popular kids like a little stalker, hoping that someone will notice you? Do you think you’re fucking special, hm? You’re nothing.” Rupert spat insidiously, physically showering you with his spit. Even as the tiny glob landed on your cheek, you made no attempt to move. Whilst you burned on the inside, you fought the urge to bite your lip. Hearing him insult you shouldn’t have been hot, but Rupert was a different breed when he was angry. Perhaps because you’d never seen him show such genuine fury, it made you want to poke the bear. So that’s what you did. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t need to be noticed. At least my mummy and daddy loved me.” You took the higher ground, watching conflict flash across startled hazel orbs. 

“How does it feel, Rupert? Knowing that your mummy prefers your brother? Laying awake at night whilst your girlfriend takes Jahiem’s cock up her-” You reeled at the taste of blood, eyes widening as you gently dabbed your lip with your thumb. Your cheek was starting to sting, and you were bewildered that Rupert had actually slapped you. Through the hurt, your cock started to stand to attention again. Fuck. You weren’t sure what was worse, the fact that you were ragingly hard, or that Rupert would see the bulge in your jeans soon enough. The slap brought back your senses, and you held both hands up. 

“Alright, enough! I don’t want to fight with you.” You thought that would be enough to soothe the enraged egomaniac, but he was still heading straight for you. You braced yourself for a punch this time, but a frosty finger rested gently against your lip instead. Rupert watched you wince slightly as he ran his nail over your open wound, eyes flickering down towards your belt. The gentle action made you tremble, goosebumps littering your arms and tugging the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Rupert stepped closer, allowing you to see the ragged rise and fall of his chest. Perhaps the panting was from anger, but you wanted to make him breathless in other ways. 

“Why not, hm? I thought you loved the chase.” Rupert outright purred, pressing you into the bedpost. You gasped, equally shocked at his accusation and the close proximity of his body. If you moved your hands, you’d feel the outline of his hips through his stupid silk shirt. This pitiful plush boy had you sussed, but you couldn't fault his observation. You did love the chase, and the prospect of leaving the school without even kissing this idiot was unthinkable. Without worrying about the consequences anymore, you gripped hideous material and kissed his imbecilic, impeccable lips. 

Whether or not he wanted to protest that he wasn’t gay, Rupert lost himself when you attacked his lips. He didn’t seem stunned at all by your advance, instead biting at the little cut on your lower lip. You groaned, meeting the aggressive swipes of his tongue with the edge of your own. God he was such a good kisser, using his hips to grind against you as your tongues played for dominance. You ran one hand up his back, snaking your fingers into his slick curls as his own digits threaded into your belt loops. A glorious moan left his lips as you wrenched his head back, gripping fistfuls of his curls as you licked down his throat. 

“No more wisecracks for me, Trouble?” You uttered softly, drawing a map of his shoulders with your tongue. Each bite and nip made him gasp, but you felt a particularly deep rasp when you reached his nipples. It was a little sad really, wondering if Florence had ever worshipped him thoroughly like this. Judging by the way he tensed and bucked against you when you pinched those gorgeous rose-pink nipples, you doubted anyone had ever explored him properly. You wanted to rectify that immediately, popping the buttons on his shirt as you reached his waist. Rupert’s hands were tangled in your floppy hair, and you were grateful for such thick locks at last. He suddenly tugged on your scalp, forcing your head upwards. 

“Will…Will you…” Rupert panted lightly, looking uncharacteristically shy. There was that slight vulnerability again, so you wanted to reassure him. Moving from your crouched position, you cupped his face and pressed your lips together again. It was a little softer, a little kinder, yet still full of heat and desperation. Rupert pawed at you, dry-humping your thigh in search of friction. 

“Will you fuck me? Make me cry…please…” Rupert rasped, hand dropping to your zipper. Your throat vibrated in response, creating a somewhat animalistic rumble. Not only did he want you to fuck him, but his warm whisper shook something deep within you. This demon would certainly be your undoing, but you welcomed Hell with open arms. To begin your descent you nodded furiously, stripping as though your clothes were offensive. 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart? How badly?” You couldn’t resist teasing him, slowly easing your hand under his boxers. If he wasn’t so flustered and breathless, you would’ve yanked his trousers and boxers down immediately. But he looked so pretty painted with pink, you decided to draw out his little gasps further. Your hand circled his ass, squeezing one cheek as he urged you closer. 

“Badly. Hard. Until I break.” Rupert groaned back to you, seemingly impatient. Taking a little pity on him you melded your lips together, intoxicated with his rich taste. How someone could taste luxurious was beyond you, but he did. You savoured his spit, panting harder when he smeared it against your mouth. At the same time your finger reached his hole, startling him into a long drawn-out gasp. The muscle was so tense, constantly puckering as you gently played with him. You couldn’t see it, but there was a little puddle forming at the front of his trousers, spreading whenever you caressed his hole. Touching it clearly wasn’t enough for either of you, and Rupert wrapped his arms around you in an effort to tempt you further. Your cock pressed painfully against his abs, begging you to devour this brat the way you wanted to. Rupert touched your weeping head, gesturing at the ancient bed with a flick of his curls. He led you to the mattress, throwing the remains of his shirt away as he detached from you for a moment. The distance seemed to physically hurt him, but his signature smirk returned when he tossed his trousers and boxers in one sweep. You swore that your dick somehow grew at the sight, but you reached optimum hardness from the moment he kissed you. You watched as he climbed onto the bed, trying to keep your jaw from dropping as he got down on all fours. 

“Are you going to just stand there and stare all day?” Rupert grinned, usual cockiness returning in time just to make you smile. 

“It is a very nice view, after all.” You smiled back, moving to join him on the bed. A light amusement had broken through the tension slightly, and you felt warm all over when you stroked down his bare back. Rupert was biting his lip, eyes bright and full of mischief when he stared back at you. You held his gaze, bringing both hands down to rest against his plump butt. Unspoken emotions stirred in the pit of your belly, but you focused on bringing Rupert pleasure instead. Massaging each round mound in your hands, you slotted yourself between his legs, running a thumb over the furled muscle again. 

“Do you have any lube, Trouble?” You asked, noticing a slight blush creep down Rupert’s back. 

“N-Not here. I wasn’t exactly prepared for this, you know!” Rupert scowled, looking a little annoyed yet disappointed. 

“It’ll have to be the old fashioned way then. But I’ll take care of you.” You leaned forward, licking the shell of Rupert’s ear. “Do you want to stop, baby?” 

“No. Please, please don’t go..” Rupert begged, the tinge of fright outweighing the irritance in his tone. Your heart thudded painfully, he sounded so small and scared at the possibility of you leaving him. Planting firm but soft kisses down his spine, you felt him relaxing at the affirmation of your touch. You spread his legs, rubbing his hole slowly until his head fell forward in exhilaration. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Rupert. Forget everything else, I’m here.” You mumbled softly, threading your free hand through his fingers. He held onto you, closing his eyes as he enjoyed anything you gave him. Your lips dipped lower, and you kissed each cheek before burying yourself between them. It felt as though your cock was screaming at you, knowing that you’d soon be fucking such a gorgeous brat. But your dick could wait, you did not care about him at the moment. No, you wanted to make Rupert cry after all, and you could scarcely wait to see him shuddering in pleasure. Your tongue darted out, and you dragged it down the base of his spine, flattening it against his entrance. Rupert was trembling slightly, and you decided not to torture him for too long. Holding onto his thighs, you lapped at his hole, dipping slightly inside whenever he whined. His cock was dripping, you could hear it between each smear of your spit. It caused you to speed up, one of your hands creeping underneath to stroke his leaking head. 

“Hasn’t anyone ever fucked you with their tongue before?” You wondered aloud, switching to sucking on his rim whilst you waited for an answer. 

“What do you think, smartass?!” Rupert retorted, covering his face with his arm. His back was arching, cock slipping further into your grip. You grinned, spitting onto his asshole as he panted. 

“Then I’m glad to be the first.” You replied, slathering all of the wetness into his opening. Even though he was glistening already, you needed to be sure that he was sticky enough to feel good. If you ended up hurting him this way, you didn’t think you could ever forgive yourself. Your tongue gravitated back inside him, pressing your thumb against the sensitive nerves on the outside. Rupert clawed the sheets and your hand, blunt nails digging against your palm. 

“Put…put your finger inside me.” He demanded, scraping his lower lip with his teeth. His curls stuck to his forehead, sweaty with desire. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much?” You withdrew your lips, still caressing his butt as he struggled to speak. 

“I will. But I don’t think I could be any wetter if I were a girl…” Rupert chuckled weakly, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your palm. You definitely weren’t expecting him to say something like that, but woe betide you to refuse his wishes. One hand still firmly gripping Rupert’s, you released a breath and slid a finger inside him. It was just your finger, yet he thrust his ass back against you and seemed ecstatic. 

“Shit! Another, please!” Rupert whimpered, and it suddenly dawned on you that he’d probably had something up his ass before. Perhaps not a cock, but he’d certainly done this with his own fingers. You shared a moan with him, scissoring another finger alongside the first as he took you easily. 

“How..how are you not taking me right now? Don’t you like it, hmm?” Rupert started to tease you again, but you felt that same thrill wrack through your body at his words. You rewarded him by curling your fingers upwards, pulling them out before jamming them back in. He yelled out, reaching for his cock but failing to grab it before you pinned his hand down. 

“Rupert…you know I want you…” You whined back, thrusting faster as Rupert writhed under your touch. 

“Then don’t wait anymore. Fuck me!” Rupert shoved his ass against you, pouting at your words. It made sense that he’d be demanding in bed, but you felt the same wave of sadness wash over you from earlier. You loved Rupert’s cheeky insolence, but maybe he’d never been able to fully embrace it with Florence. You wondered if their intimacy had always been rushed, with Florence retreating to her phone afterwards. You would never ask of course, but everyone gossiped. Shaking your head slightly to the intrusive thoughts, you pulled your fingers out and allowed Rupert to rub against your cock. He was the one you wanted, not the others. 

“I’ll fuck you, you little brat. It’s hot to see you beg.” You smirked, nudging the tip of your cock over his hole, feeling every flex of his muscles. 

“You’re all talk and no-oh! Mm…mm…Oh God, yes!” Rupert was ready to retort again, but you stunted him in his arrogance by gliding your solid cockhead into his weeping hole. He sucked you in, barely giving you time to register how hot and tight he was. You even had to hold his hips back, stopping him from completely bottoming out. If he did that immediately, you’d cum in seconds. No, you wanted to go slowly, feeling every inch of his fervid walls dripping with your saliva. But you had to be careful thinking about that too, your sensitivity was soaring. 

“Rupert…oh fuck..” You lost your composure for a second, finally letting Rupert engulf the rest of your length inside him. There was a slight mound just above your cock, and grazing it left both of you breathless. Rupert didn’t seem to care about his temperament anymore, fiercely fisting his cock whenever you pushed against that tight space. Your balls were starting to tighten, but you ignored them smacking against Rupert’s ass as you started to plunge your cock inside him. His walls were contracting already, and the harsh squeeze set your body on fire. 

“Ah…Ah…no, not yet!” Rupert cursed quietly to himself, confirming your suspicions when his hand came away wet. 

“Oh baby, you came already? Aww.” You decided to make fun of him a little, but it was done in good spirit. Rupert grumbled and pulled away from you, rolling over to face you. He was gorgeous, curls completely ruined and body covered in handprints. Even though he was spent, he looked at your solid cock curiously. 

“Have me again. But I want to see you this time.” Rupert mumbled grumpily, refusing to meet your eyes. You felt your eyebrow quirk at his statement, but you absolutely wanted to be inside him again. Throwing his legs over your shoulders he beckoned you back, throwing his head back in ecstasy when you found home again. Your hands found his, pressing him down into the bed as you thrust into him for the second time. Rupert made no attempt to hide his moans, almost goading you to go faster. You obeyed, hitting his prostate repeatedly until the bed creaked with your efforts. At a particularly rough thrust you reached down, needing to feel Rupert’s lips as you pounded him. Shockingly he kissed you back, wrapping his legs around your back. Your cock was straining now, desperate for a little more but chasing the need for release. Rupert cupped your face, licking the cut on your lip as you started to clench. 

“Why…why are you afraid to cum?” He asked, teasing your top lip. 

“Because…” Why were you afraid to cum? Was it because you knew you’d never see Rupert again? Because this was the best night of your life, and you’d be leaving at the end of the week? Because Rupert would never love you back, and he’d beat you up if you dared to tell anyone? It was all too much, and you were at risk of slowing down or even stopping. But the arrogant brat kissed you, and eased your worries with unusual tenderness. 

“Let yourself go. It’s you and me, right?” Rupert paused, feeling the beginning of your orgasm. As you shuddered and tensed through it, he helped you through the nerves, keeping you inside him. 

“It’s always been you. I know I’m stupid, but I…I can’t imagine life without you. I’m sorry.” Rupert sniffled, mouthing along your neck as you filled him with your essence. It took a while for your breathing to calm, but when it did, you pulled out and crushed your arms against him. You were both shaking, but you knew without a shred of doubt that you couldn’t leave him. His caresses were so soft now, all the bravado and ego shattering in a moment to hold you close. You absorbed him into your body, warm skin lightly brushing together in harmony as you shared the moment. But you experienced a moment of clarity, and in that, you knew exactly what you needed to do. 

Fuck Carol. I’m here to stay, bitch. 

Tagging in case you'd like to read: @grinningkatz (for the pretty pics ehehe), @lancedoncrimsonwings (I thought you'd like my British quips at the end for NT haha), @lord-aldhelm (would love your opinion) and obviously my usual amazing moots if you find this go wild <3

[jimmyspades]

new to the spader fandom so idk if this is “controversial” or not but I want him to be in another movie or two before he maybe calls acting quits for good…�� I like his tv stuff duh but he’s a movie guy to me

Haha I don’t think that’s controversial at all, I also really hope he does a couple more films before “retiring.” I don’t see him doing another TV show (unless it’s like, a guest spot like The Office) but why not movies!! Whether he needs the money lol or there’s a project that comes along that he’s genuinely interested in (a director he likes or a certain role), I don’t *think* The Blacklist was his final role but I also wouldn’t be shocked if it was. I’d be disappointed though 🥲

[cryptictongues]

The Thrill of the Chase

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.

warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan

Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich. 

“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”

You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face. 

“Oh, you mean this sandwich?” 

You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another. 

But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that. 

“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move. 

“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.

“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.” 

“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.” 

His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.

“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll take something precious of yours.” 

He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.

“Enjoying my meal?” 

He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”

You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.

“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear. 

“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”

You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name. 

You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.

You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down. 

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”

You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.

“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent. 

You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere. 

You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound. 

Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.

“Where is she?” 

You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet. 

You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble. 

“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place. 

He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”

You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender. 

“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.” 

“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.” 

He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands. 

“You’re wrong.”

You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”

He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”

Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”

“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”

You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.

You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”

He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.

“The fun is in what follows.”

His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.

One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.

You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted. 

More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close. 

You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance. 

“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”

If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare. 

“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got. 

“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand. 

“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed. 

You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down. 

“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier. 

He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head. 

“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”

You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.

“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”

You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”

Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth. 

His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.

You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.

You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently. 

Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly. 

“Tell me what you see, baby.” 

The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”

You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them. 

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”

You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure. 

“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.” 

You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you. 

His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”

“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.

Damn him!

“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”

“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”

He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.

“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface. 

His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum. 

He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.

“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”

He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”

Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get. 

“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.

“Arch that back for me.”

You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only. 

He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.

“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”

His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.

He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn. 

“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”

“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.

“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”

He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love. 

He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.

He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.

“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”

His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”

He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure. 

“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”

You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough. 

“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit. 

He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.

You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent. 

“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!” 

Big mistake on your part.

He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.

“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs. 

You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it. 

“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.

“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”

He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down. 

Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected. 

“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up. 

His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind. 

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”

“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.” 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.

And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.

He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.

“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly. 

“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”

“Yeah? My cock makin’ you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior. 

Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow. 

The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.

Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control. 

“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle. 

“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.

He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment. 

You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return. 

“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”

You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.

“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”

You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you. 

“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”

Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding. 

He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes. 

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.

You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this. 

He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you. 

You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.

“Your claws pierced my headboard.”

You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”

“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”

You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more. 

“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”

“And why is that?”

“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”

He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”

“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”

“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.

He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”

You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone. 

“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”

“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”

You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”

He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”

Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.

“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”

You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.

“You gonna smoke one?”

He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”

He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff. 

You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.

[elikajinnie]

Steal Your Way To My Heart - N.R (Part 1)

P: Bankrobber! Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Requested by: @badtzsan (hope you like it <3)

Warnings: Teasing, Pursuing, Murder, Kidnapping, Violence, Obsession, Stalking, Flirting, Ni-ki just wanna cover you in jewels tbh.

Synopsis: Your life was boring—until a visit to the bank changes everything. Now you find yourself under the attention of one of the criminals. Now what do you do when the criminal's attention isn't just on the job but on you?

a/n: inspired by false alarm mv by the weeknd pr request :)

See request here

--

Your days were always underwhelming.

You’d wake up to the sound of your alarm, drag yourself out of bed, and go through the same motions: school, then work, then home. Over and over, like clockwork. And somewhere along the line, it became suffocating.

Each morning felt heavier than the last, your feet dragging like you were wading through wet cement. You found yourself staring out windows more often than not, watching the world pass you by. Same streets, same faces, same everything.

You craved something more. Something to set your blood pumping, your heart racing. You didn’t just want change—you needed it. The kind of adrenaline that would make you feel alive again, remind you that there was more out there than just this monotonous cycle you’d been stuck in.

But nothing ever happened.

You’d given up on expecting it. Change, excitement, anything—it wasn’t in the cards for you. At least, that’s what you thought.

Until one morning.

You were running late for work, your bag slung haphazardly over your shoulder as you weaved through the crowded streets. The morning rush wasn’t anything new, but you were moving too fast, too distracted, and you didn’t even notice the figure walking toward you until it was too late.

You crashed into him with enough force to make you stumble back a step. Your bag slipped from your shoulder, scattering its contents onto the sidewalk.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, immediately crouching to gather your things.

“No, it’s my fault,” came the response, a smooth, low voice that made you pause mid-grab.

You glanced up, an automatic, polite apology ready on your lips—but it never made it out.

Your breath caught.

He was tall, towering over you even as he crouched to help pick up your things. Dark hair framed a sharp jawline, his skin smooth and flawless in the morning light. But it was his eyes that held you captive—piercing, intense, like they could see right through you. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“You okay?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry again, I wasn’t paying attention.”

He handed you your phone, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.”

You stood together, and now that you were face-to-face, the sheer presence of him was almost overwhelming. There was something about him that felt… off. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Like he wasn’t supposed to be here, in this moment, colliding with you.

“Well, uh…” you began awkwardly, suddenly hyperaware of how plain your uniform looked compared to how effortlessly cool he was. “Thanks.”

Before he could respond, the distant chime of your phone’s clock reminded you that you were late—really late.

“I have to go,” you blurted, clutching your bag tightly.

He smiled again, softer this time, and nodded. “Of course. See you around…?”

You didn’t answer, too flustered as you turned and hurried off. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, he was still standing there, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

You didn’t know it then, but that moment would change everything.

You didn’t know it at first.

How could you? To you, it had just been a fleeting moment, an odd yet strangely thrilling encounter with a handsome stranger. Sure, his face had lingered in your mind longer than you’d like to admit, but life didn’t stop just because you ran into someone attractive.

Day after day, you returned to your routine: school, work, home. And yet… something felt different. Subtle, at first—like a faint whisper at the back of your mind. You’d catch yourself glancing over your shoulder as you walked down the street, or feeling your pulse quicken when a shadow flickered in your peripheral vision.

But you brushed it off. You were overthinking things, you told yourself. It was probably just your imagination playing tricks on you.

You didn’t know that it wasn’t.

Because he was watching you.

The same guy you’d crashed into that morning. Day after day, he followed you. He was careful, almost eerily so. He stayed just far enough away that you’d never notice. Blended into the crowd so seamlessly that you’d never think to look twice.

But he was there. Always.

He saw the way you rushed into work, cheeks flushed from the cold or the stress of running late. He saw the way you smiled politely at customers, even when they were rude to you. He saw the way your shoulders slumped when you thought no one was looking, the weariness of your routine weighing you down.

He saw you.

And every day, he learned more.

Your patterns, your habits. The exact time you’d leave your apartment in the morning. The small café you stopped by occasionally, ordering the same drink every time. The way you lingered outside the bookstore window after work, staring at the same display of novels you never seemed to have time to read.

You were fascinating to him.

But it wasn’t just fascination—it was something darker. Something possessive.

And it wasn’t long before the distance he kept began to shrink.

One night, as you left work later than usual, the streetlights barely illuminating the empty sidewalk ahead of you, you felt it again—that nagging feeling, like someone was watching you.

You glanced behind you, but there was nothing. Just the empty street stretching out behind you, silent except for the faint hum of distant traffic.

You shook your head, scolding yourself for being paranoid.

But as you turned back around, you didn’t see the figure slipping into the shadows, just a few steps behind where you’d been standing.

He was getting closer. And you still didn’t know.

He kept his distance, always careful, always calculated.

Day after day, he followed you, studying every detail of your life like it was a puzzle he needed to solve. But he never showed himself. Not yet.

He learned the way you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought, the way your lips pressed into a thin line when you were frustrated, and the soft laugh you let out when you read something funny on your phone. He memorized your patterns as if they were sacred—your favorite routes, the way you adjusted your pace when the streets were crowded, and the shortcuts you took when you were running late.

And still, you didn’t know.

But you began to feel it.

The unease settled in your chest like a stone, heavier each passing day. You couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was there—watching, waiting. When you walked home at night, the silence felt too loud, the shadows too alive. You found yourself glancing over your shoulder more often, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t explain.

But no one was ever there.

You started locking your doors twice before bed, pulling the curtains closed even though you’d always liked the city lights spilling into your room. You told yourself you were just being paranoid. That nothing was wrong.

But he was getting bolder.

One night, as you walked home, your bag slung over your shoulder and your headphones in, you felt it again—that prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Your steps faltered, your hand tightening around the strap of your bag.

You paused and looked around, the dim streetlights casting long, eerie shadows on the empty road.

There was no one there.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself about how ridiculous you were being, and picked up your pace.

Behind you, in the shadows, he stood perfectly still, his head tilting ever so slightly as he watched you disappear down the street.

He could have reached out. Could have closed the distance between you. Could have made himself known.

But he didn’t. Not yet.

--

The bank was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional shuffle of feet. You sat on a plastic chair near the wall, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, half-distracted by notifications you didn’t care enough to open.

It was late on a Friday, and the place was nearly empty—a few tellers behind the counter, a couple arguing softly over paperwork, a man in a suit sitting near the door, tapping his foot impatiently.

You weren’t expecting much. Just another mundane errand to tick off your never-ending list of obligations.

Then they walked in.

The doors burst open, slamming against the walls with a loud bang that echoed through the room. You looked up instinctively, your fingers freezing over your phone screen.

There were four of them, maybe five—it was hard to tell in the chaos that followed. They were dressed head to toe in black, their faces hidden behind masks: a snarling wolf, a grinning clown, a featureless white face, and a grotesque demon.

And they were armed.

“Everyone on the floor!” one of them barked, his voice distorted through the mask, the barrel of his gun sweeping across the room.

Your heart dropped, your body reacting before your brain could catch up. You slid off the chair and onto the floor, your phone slipping from your hands as you pressed yourself flat against the cold tiles. Around you, the other people in the bank were doing the same—some crying softly, others frozen in stunned silence.

“Hands where we can see them!” another one shouted, their voice sharper, more aggressive.

You obeyed, trembling as you stretched your arms out in front of you. Your breaths came in short, panicked gasps, the floor suddenly feeling too hard, too cold, too close.

One of the masked figures strode past you, their boots heavy against the floor. You flinched as they moved, your body instinctively shrinking in on itself.

You tried not to look up, to stay small and invisible, but your gaze flicked upward for just a second—and you saw the wolf-masked figure staring right at you.

The mask tilted slightly, as if they were studying you. You froze, your blood running cold as your eyes locked with the dark voids of the mask’s eye holes.

“Keep your head down,” the figure growled, their voice low and menacing.

You dropped your gaze immediately, your entire body trembling as you pressed your forehead against the floor.

Behind you, one of the robbers barked orders to the tellers, demanding cash. The sounds of drawers opening, paper rustling, and the muffled sobs of a teller filled the room.

“Move faster!” another one snapped, slamming their hand against the counter.

The tension in the air was suffocating, every second stretching into what felt like an eternity. Your mind raced, a whirlwind of panic and fear. What did they want? Would they hurt someone? Would they hurt you?

You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe too loudly.

But amidst the chaos, a thought nagged at the back of your mind—this wasn’t random. The timing, the masks, the precision. Something about it felt deliberate.

And then, you felt it again—that same sensation that had been haunting you for days.

The feeling of being watched.

Slowly, carefully, you shifted your eyes to the side, just enough to see the wolf-masked figure standing a few feet away. Their head was turned toward you again, their stance unnervingly still compared to the chaos around them.

It was like they weren’t even focused on the heist anymore.

They were focused on you.

The chaos continued to unfold around you, the masked figures shouting commands and waving their guns as the tellers scrambled to fill duffel bags with cash. The sound of drawers slamming and the occasional muffled sob of a hostage filled the air, but all you could focus on was the crushing weight of fear in your chest.

Then the clown came closer.

You didn’t see him at first, too focused on staying still and small, but you felt the shadow looming over you. A pair of scuffed boots came into your view, stopping just inches from your head.

"Well, well, look at this," the clown mask sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

You barely had time to flinch before he noticed your phone lying on the floor, just by your head. He chuckled darkly, lifting his boot and slamming it down onto the device with enough force to shatter it into pieces. The crack of the screen echoed through the room, making you jump.

“No phones!” he shouted, crouching down just enough to get in your face. His mask’s grinning expression felt mocking, his gun now pointed directly at your temple.

Your blood turned ice-cold as you froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“What do we have here?” he taunted, leaning in closer. “You trying to be a hero? Huh? Recording us, maybe?”

“No!” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t, I swear!”

The barrel of the gun pressed harder against your temple, and you clenched your eyes shut, shaking uncontrollably. “You better not be lying to me,” he hissed.

But before he could say anything else, a hand shoved him hard, knocking him off balance.

“Back off!” the wolf snapped, his voice sharp and commanding.

The clown stumbled but caught himself, turning to glare at the wolf. “What’s your problem?” he spat.

“The money’s the priority,” the wolf said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not wasting time threatening some random girl.”

For a moment, the clown hesitated, his finger twitching near the trigger as he glanced between you and the wolf. You held your breath, terrified of what he might do.

Finally, with a frustrated growl, he stepped back, lowering his gun. “Fine. Whatever.” He shot you one last glare before storming off toward the counters, muttering under his breath.

The wolf lingered for a moment, his masked face still angled toward you. Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you felt his eyes boring into you, assessing you, as if silently telling you to stay put and stay quiet.

Then he turned and walked away, joining the others as they stuffed more cash into their bags.

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure everyone in the room could hear it. You stayed frozen on the floor, trembling, as the chaos continued around you.

Before you could even begin to process what had just happened, a gloved hand yanked you up by your arm.

“Get up!” a rough voice barked behind the grotesque demon mask.

Your legs wobbled as you were hauled to your feet, your body stiff with terror. “Wait—what are you doing? Let me go!” you stammered, trying to pull away, but the grip on your arm was like iron.

The wolf approached swiftly, his movements precise and deliberate. He didn’t say a word as he reached into his bag, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. You froze, your breath hitching as he grabbed your wrists, forcing them together in front of you.

The cold steel bit into your skin as the cuffs clicked shut.

“W-Why are you doing this?” you pleaded, panic rising in your voice.

The wolf didn’t answer. He only exchanged a glance with the demon, and before you knew it, they were dragging you toward the counter, your shoes scuffing against the tiled floor as you struggled.

“Stop! Please!” you cried, thrashing against their hold, but it was no use. They were too strong.

They pulled you around the counter, past the terrified tellers huddled on the floor, and toward a back door you hadn’t even noticed before. The demon shoved the door open, and that’s when it happened.

Gunfire erupted, the sound splitting the air like thunder. You screamed, instinctively ducking as chaos exploded around you.

The cops were here.

Bullets tore through the doorframe, shards of wood and plaster flying everywhere as the robbers scrambled for cover. The wolf yanked you to the side, his grip on your arm unrelenting as he pulled you out of the line of fire. The demon cursed loudly, returning fire with his assault rifle as the clown and the others shouted orders.

You were caught in the middle of it all, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it would break through your ribs.

“Move! Move!” the wolf barked, dragging you further back into the bank as the others laid down suppressive fire.

You stumbled over your own feet, the cuffs cutting into your wrists as you were manhandled left and right. The gunfire was deafening, each shot sending a jolt of terror through your body.

“Let me go!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face as you tried to resist.

But they didn’t listen. The demon shoved you forward, almost knocking you over, while the wolf kept a firm hold on your arm, steering you toward what looked like a service entrance.

“Take her through the alley!” one of the robbers shouted—maybe the clown, you couldn’t tell anymore.

“No time!” the demon snapped. “They’ve got the back covered too!”

More gunfire erupted, and you ducked again, your ears ringing from the sheer volume of the shots. The smell of gunpowder and fear was thick in the air, suffocating you as you were dragged further into the chaos.

The fire exit door slammed open, and chaos followed you into the cold night air.

Gunshots cracked like thunder around you as the masked robbers fired wildly at the police closing in from all sides. You stumbled as they dragged you forward, your wrists aching against the cuffs, your legs barely able to keep up.

“Cover me!” the demon barked, his assault rifle spraying bullets toward the flashing red-and-blue lights in the distance.

The wolf, still gripping your arm, yanked you harder, pulling you toward a white van that screeched to a halt just ahead. Its tires skidded on the asphalt, smoke billowing around it. The sliding door flung open, and you barely had time to register the driver—a figure in a grotesque zombie mask—before the robbers began throwing the bags of money into the back.

“Get in!” the clown yelled, his voice sharp and frantic.

You resisted, digging your heels into the ground as they tried to force you forward. “No! Let me go!” you screamed, thrashing wildly.

The demon growled in frustration and shoved you forward. “Quit fighting, or I’ll give you a reason to stop!”

Your body collided with the hard interior of the van as the wolf hoisted you up and shoved you inside. The smell of leather and gasoline filled your nose as you landed on your side, your hands still bound in front of you.

“Move!” the zombie driver shouted, his voice muffled but commanding.

The demon and the clown scrambled into the van, slamming the door shut as the wolf climbed in last, still holding his weapon.

The van roared to life, its engine growling as it sped off, tires screeching against the pavement.

You were thrown to the side as the van lurched forward, and you struggled to push yourself upright, your heart racing as panic set in. Outside the windows, flashes of blue and red danced in the dark, and the distant wail of sirens grew louder.

“They’re right on us!” the clown shouted, peering out the back window.

“Then lose them!” the demon snapped, slamming a fresh magazine into his gun.

The zombie swerved the van violently, narrowly avoiding a blockade of police cars as bullets ricocheted off the metal exterior. The robbers fired back through the open windows, their weapons deafening in the cramped space.

You pressed yourself against the corner of the van, your knees tucked to your chest as the chaos unfolded around you. Your ears rang from the gunfire, your body shaking uncontrollably as you watched the masked figures shout and fire, their movements chaotic yet disturbingly practiced.

One of the cops’ vehicles pulled up alongside the van, its siren blaring as an officer leaned out the window, aiming a weapon.

“Take them out!” the demon ordered.

The clown let out a sharp laugh, rolling down the window and leaning out with his rifle. “With pleasure.”

The van swerved again as he fired, the sound of bullets tearing through the air making you scream. The police car veered off course, skidding to a halt as its tires blew out, sending sparks flying.

“Hell yeah!” the clown shouted, slapping the side of the van as he ducked back inside.

The wolf, sitting closest to you, glanced your way. His mask tilted slightly, as if he were studying you again, his body unnervingly calm compared to the others.

You pressed yourself further into the corner, your breath coming in shallow gasps. “Please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling. “Why are you doing this? Just let me go!”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, the zombie yelled from the driver’s seat, “We’re clear for now, but they’ll be on us again soon! Where’s the next checkpoint?”

The demon pulled out a map, spreading it across the floor of the van. “Couple miles out. We ditch the van there and split up.”

“And her?” the clown asked, jerking his head in your direction. “What do we do with her?”

The air in the van grew heavier, the question hanging like a loaded gun.

“She stays,” the wolf said firmly, his voice low.

The others exchanged glances, but no one argued.

You stared at him, your mind racing. Why? Why did he insist on keeping you?

You pressed your back harder against the cold metal wall of the van, your knees drawn up to your chest. Every fiber of your being screamed to fight, to yell, to do something—anything—but you didn’t. You stayed quiet, hoping that silence would keep you alive.

The robbers kept moving, the van swerving sharply as the zombie masked driver navigated the dark streets. Every turn jostled you, the cuffs on your wrists digging into your skin.

“Are we clear?” the clown asked, his voice tense as he peered out the back window.

“Not yet,” the demon growled, his rifle resting on his lap as he reloaded. “They’ll catch up. We need to move faster.”

“They can’t keep up,” the zombie argued from the front. “I know these streets. We’ll lose them soon.”

The van fell into a tense silence, the occasional crackle of the police radio chatter outside filtering through the open window. You kept your head down, your breaths shallow, trying to make yourself as small and invisible as possible.

But the weight of the wolf’s gaze was still on you.

You could feel it without even looking up, the way he sat so still compared to the others. It was like he was watching you, studying your every move, even though you weren’t making any.

Finally, the clown broke the silence with a loud sigh. “This is getting boring,” he muttered, leaning back against the van wall. “We should’ve left her behind. Dead weight.”

You flinched at his words, your hands trembling as you clenched them tightly together.

“She’s insurance,” the wolf said coldly, his tone cutting through the air like a blade. “In case things go south.”

“Insurance, huh?” the clown sneered, tilting his head toward you. “She doesn’t look like much. What are you gonna do? Use her as a human shield?”

The wolf didn’t respond.

“Enough,” the demon snapped, silencing the clown with a glare. “She’s here. That’s the end of it.”

The clown grumbled under his breath but said nothing more, turning his attention back to the window.

You glanced up briefly, your eyes darting to the wolf. He was sitting across from you, his posture relaxed yet somehow alert. His mask tilted slightly, as if he knew you were looking at him.

You quickly looked away, your pulse quickening.

The van suddenly jerked to the side, making everyone lurch forward.

“Checkpoint’s up ahead,” the zombie announced, his voice calm but firm. “Get ready to move.”

The tension in the van grew heavier as the others prepared themselves, checking their weapons and adjusting their masks.

You stayed frozen, your mind racing. What would happen at the checkpoint? Would they let you go? Or was this just the beginning of something worse?

The wolf shifted in his seat, leaning closer to you. You tensed as his gloved hand reached out, grabbing the chain of the cuffs around your wrists.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded shakily, unable to muster the strength to speak.

The van slowed to a stop, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires.

The demon opened the sliding door, his rifle at the ready. “Move,” he ordered, gesturing for everyone to get out.

The clown and the wolf exited first, guns drawn as they scanned the area. The zombie stayed in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, ready to bolt if things went sideways.

Then the demon turned to you.

“Let’s go,” he growled, grabbing your arm and yanking you out of the van.

The night air hit you like a slap, cold and sharp, as you stumbled onto the gravel.

The wolf was by your side in an instant, his hand on your arm again, steadying you. It wasn’t comforting. It was a reminder that you weren’t going anywhere.You were then half-dragged, half-pushed toward a row of hidden vehicles parked in the shadows of the industrial area. Engines roared to life as the robbers split up, each group climbing into separate cars.

The wolf steered you toward a sleek black car, opening the passenger door and shoving you inside with startling precision. Before you could even think of resisting, he leaned over, pulling the seat belt across your body and fastening it with a decisive click.

The movement was quick but strangely careful, as if ensuring you wouldn’t get hurt. You stared at him, breathless and wide-eyed, as he settled into the driver’s seat without a word.

The clown slid into the back seat, slamming the door shut behind him. “Let’s move!” he barked, his tone impatient.

The wolf didn’t reply. He simply started the engine, his gloved hands gripping the wheel as the car roared to life. Without hesitation, he pressed the gas, the tires screeching against the pavement as the car sped off into the night.

Through the rearview mirror, you could see the other vehicles peeling off in different directions, each taking a separate route to evade the cops.

The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the hum of the engine and the faint sound of sirens fading into the distance.

You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, your hands clenched in your lap as you tried to steady your breathing. The wolf’s presence beside you was overwhelming, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the chaos you had just witnessed.

From the back seat, the clown let out a sharp laugh. “Man, did you see the look on those cops’ faces? Like they didn’t even know what hit ‘em!”

The wolf didn’t respond, his focus entirely on the road ahead.

The clown leaned forward, resting his elbows on the back of your seat. “So, what’s the plan with her, huh?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward you.

You flinched, your shoulders tensing as his attention shifted to you.

The wolf’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, but his voice remained steady. “She’s coming with us. That’s all you need to know.”

The clown scoffed, sitting back again. “You’re getting soft, Wolf. Letting her ride shotgun like she’s part of the team or something.”

The wolf glanced at you briefly, his mask hiding whatever expression might have crossed his face. Then he turned his attention back to the road.

“She’s leverage,” he said simply.

The clown muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t push the subject any further.

You turned your head toward the window, watching the dark streets blur past as the car sped through empty intersections and winding back roads. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in, the adrenaline fading just enough to leave you with a sick, hollow feeling in your chest.

You were completely at their mercy, trapped with no way out.

And yet, there was something strange about the wolf.

He hadn’t hurt you—not like the others. He hadn’t yelled at you, threatened you, or treated you like a disposable hostage. His actions were calculated, almost protective, even if you didn’t understand why.

But that didn’t make him any less dangerous.

The clown’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “So where are we headed, anyway? Safehouse number two?”

“No,” the wolf said. “Too obvious. We’re heading to the fallback location.”

The clown groaned. “Great. Another night in the middle of nowhere.”

You didn’t dare ask what the fallback location was.

Instead, you kept quiet, your heart pounding as the car sped further and further away from anything familiar.

The engine roared as the wolf pressed the pedal harder, the car speeding down the dark, desolate roads. You gripped the edge of the seat with your cuffed hands, your body stiff as you stared out the windshield, too terrified to look anywhere else.

Behind you, the clown rummaged through the two duffel bags, his gloved hands pulling out wads of cash. The bills rustled as he counted, his voice loud and obnoxious in the tense silence.

“Ten grand, twenty, thirty,” he muttered, stacking the money in neat piles on his lap. “Damn, this haul’s better than the last one. Maybe we should hit banks more often.”

The wolf didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his hands gripping the wheel with calm precision.

The clown snorted, shaking his head. “You’re no fun, you know that? All business, no celebration. You could at least crack a smile under that mask.”

“I’m driving,” the wolf said flatly. His voice was low, steady, and completely unbothered by the clown’s antics.

The clown scoffed, shoving another bundle of cash back into the bag. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Professional. Always the same with you.”

You glanced at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of the clown’s mask—a twisted, grinning face that sent a chill down your spine. He noticed you looking and leaned forward, his head tilting as if he were smirking beneath the mask.

“What about you, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “You enjoying the ride, sweetheart? This must be the most excitement you’ve had in your boring little life.”

You stiffened, refusing to answer.

The clown laughed, a sharp, grating sound. “Aw, come on, don’t be shy. You’re practically part of the crew now. Maybe we’ll even cut you a share.”

“That’s enough,” the wolf said sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

The clown raised his hands in mock surrender, leaning back in his seat. “Fine, fine. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. You’re such a buzzkill, Wolf.”

The wolf didn’t reply, his focus returning to the road.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your mind raced. The clown’s teasing was unnerving, but the wolf’s silence was worse. He was an enigma—calm, controlled, and impossible to read.

The car swerved slightly as the wolf took a sharp turn, the tires screeching against the pavement.

The car sped down the empty streets, the hum of the engine filling the tense silence. After a while, the clown’s fidgeting grew louder, and you could sense his boredom brewing. He leaned forward again, resting his arms on the back of your seat.

“So,” he drawled, his tone laced with mock curiosity. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the wolf, who showed no sign of responding. His grip on the steering wheel remained steady, his eyes locked on the road ahead.

“I asked you a question,” the clown pressed, tilting his head. The subtle way his fingers drummed against the gun in his hand sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, deciding that staying silent wasn’t worth the risk. You answered him, your voice barely above a whisper.

He repeated your name, as if testing the way it sounded. “Nice. Bet you never thought you’d end up on an adventure like this, huh?”

You didn’t answer, staring straight ahead as your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your seatbelt.

The clown chuckled, the sound low and unnerving. “Not much of a talker, are you? That’s alright. Quiet’s good.” His tone shifted, becoming smoother, almost flirtatious. “But you don’t have to be shy with me. I’m not as scary as I look.”

Your stomach turned, and you instinctively leaned slightly closer to the door, putting as much distance as you could between you and his presence looming behind you.

Still, you managed to force out a stiff response, if only to keep him from getting more agitated. “I don’t really… feel like talking.”

The clown’s laugh was sharper this time. “Come on, don’t be like that. You’ve got a pretty face. Might as well use that pretty voice to keep me entertained.”

Your body tensed, the flirty edge in his tone setting your nerves on fire. Before you could react—or even glance at the wolf for help—the car lurched to an abrupt stop, the tires screeching loudly against the pavement.

The sudden motion threw you forward in your seat, your seatbelt catching you just in time, but the clown wasn’t as lucky. He pitched forward, hitting his head hard with a muffled thud.

“Goddammit!” he cursed, rubbing his forehead through his mask as he sat back. “What the hell, Wolf?!”

“The light’s red,” he said coldly, nodding toward the traffic light ahead.

The clown let out a disbelieving laugh, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ve never stopped at a red light before. What’s the deal?”

The wolf’s grip on the wheel didn’t loosen, but his tone dropped lower, sharper. “I stopped.”

The clown muttered something under his breath, leaning back in his seat with a groan. “Fine, whatever. You’re the boss.”

You stole a glance at the wolf, your heart racing. His mask obscured his face, but his posture told you everything. His shoulders were rigid, his breathing controlled but heavy, and the way his hands clenched the steering wheel made it clear—he was furious.

But why? Was it because of the clown’s behavior toward you?

The light turned green, and the wolf started driving again, the car moving smoothly as if nothing had happened.

The clown stayed quiet for a moment before letting out a huff. “Man, you’re wound up tight tonight. Need to relax.”

The wolf didn’t reply, his focus entirely on the road.

You could feel the weight of exhaustion dragging at you, your body craving rest, but your mind refused to let go. The tension in the car was thick, and every muscle in your body screamed for a break. But you knew better than to trust sleep around these men. The fear of what might happen if you closed your eyes was far too strong.

The road beneath the tires seemed to stretch on forever, and you blinked hard, doing your best to keep your focus. Every time you thought you might drift off, a sharp turn or the sound of the clown laughing from behind you pulled you back into reality.

Finally, the car slowed to a stop, the engine purring to a halt in the quiet night. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze of exhaustion from your vision, but you were still too disoriented.

The clown’s voice broke through your foggy thoughts. “Alright, we’re here. Let’s go.”

The wolf opened his door without a word and stepped out, his heavy boots crunching against the pavement as the clown followed suit. Your door swung open, and before you could gather your bearings, the wolf’s cold hand gripped your arm, pulling you roughly out of the car.

You stumbled slightly, your legs unsteady from the long ride, but the wolf didn’t give you any room to regain your balance. “Move,” the wolf growled, and you had no choice but to follow, your body moving instinctively even as your mind screamed in protest.

The wolf continued leading you, his eyes sharp and watchful as he guided you toward a steel elevator.

You tried to keep your breathing steady, but the fear gnawed at you as the elevator doors closed with a dull thud, the sound of the mechanical gears grinding making you feel even more trapped.

The elevator descended with a slow, jarring motion, your stomach lurching as you were pulled deeper underground.

When the doors finally opened, you were greeted by a dimly lit basement. Concrete floors stretched out before you, and the air felt musty and stale, like it hadn’t been disturbed in ages.

The clown’s voice echoed in the silence as he dropped the bags of money on a long wooden table. “First group here, huh?” He grinned, turning toward the wolf. “We need a bigger place if we’re going to keep up with the haul.”

The wolf didn’t answer him. His gaze never left you, and he moved toward a small door at the far end of the room.

“You’re staying here,” he said, his voice firm and low.

You didn’t have time to protest before he unlocked the door and shoved you inside. The room was sparse—bare concrete walls, a single bed in the corner, and a small desk against the wall. There was a single light bulb hanging overhead, casting an eerie glow over the room.

Before you could fully register what was happening, the wolf had locked the door behind you, his footsteps echoing as he walked away.

You stood frozen for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest.

You were alone.

Alone in a cold, unfamiliar room, trapped with no clear way out.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly in that cold, empty room. Hours passed—or maybe it was just minutes, you couldn’t be sure. You paced the small space, trying to think of some way out, but all your thoughts kept circling back to the same grim reality.

But just as the weight of your fear felt unbearable, the door to your cell creaked open. You didn’t move at first, too exhausted and emotionally drained to react. But then you saw him—the wolf.

He stood in the doorway, his presence towering and suffocating, his eyes dark and unreadable beneath his mask.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

You didn’t hesitate, feeling an instinctive pull to move despite the part of you that screamed to resist. There was nothing to gain from defiance—not here, not with him.

His gloved hand grabbed your arm firmly, pulling you out of the room with a force that left you no room to protest. As you were led down the dimly lit hallway, you passed the other robbers. They didn’t speak, their gaze on you. The clown sat lazily at the table, fiddling with a lighter, his gaze flicking up for a brief moment, but he didn’t say anything.

The wolf didn’t stop, dragging you forward with an unyielding grip. He grabbed a bag from the table without a word, his focus fixed ahead.

You were taken back to the elevator, its cold metal doors sliding open with a hiss. The same grinding sound as before filled the air as the elevator took you upward, the quiet hum of its mechanics deafening in the otherwise still atmosphere.

When the doors opened again, you were faced with the world outside, the harsh light of the morning sun streaming in. The wolf shoved you toward a sleek red car waiting at the curb, its engine idling, ready to take you away.

The sun had begun to rise, casting long shadows on the pavement, signaling the end of the night. The city was waking up, but you felt like you were in another world entirely. The red car’s door swung open, and the wolf pushed you into the passenger seat with a firm hand. He climbed into the driver’s side without a word, his movements swift and deliberate.

The car roared to life, pulling away from the curb as the wheels crunched over the gravel.

The wolf’s gaze flickered briefly toward you, but he didn’t say anything. He just drove, his hands steady on the wheel as the car hummed down the road.

The tension in your shoulders, the constant dread you’d been carrying, began to ease—ever so slightly. Your eyelids fluttered, heavy from the exhaustion you’d been pushing through, the lack of sleep catching up to you. You tried to stay alert, but it was harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

And before you realized it, your head dipped forward, your body relaxing into the seat. Your breathing slowed, soft and steady, as you drifted into sleep.

The wolf’s eyes flickered over to you, his gaze briefly softening as he saw your head resting against the window. The corner of his lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though it was hidden behind his mask. There was a deep sense of satisfaction that washed over him.

--

You slowly opened your eyes, the soft light from the window spilling across the plush linens. The warmth of the bed made you feel disoriented, almost too comfortable, and the moment you became fully aware of your surroundings, a cold wave of shock hit you.

You were in a luxurious hotel suite, the kind you’d only seen in movies or heard about from those who had money to spend. The room was large, with expensive-looking furniture scattered about, dark wood and gold accents giving it a rich, elegant feel. The bed you had woken up in was massive, the sheets pristine white and slightly crumpled.

You sighed, the weight of the confusion and fear coming back. Your body was sore, and you could still feel the faint remnants of exhaustion in your limbs. But somehow, it felt wrong to stay here. You didn’t know where here was, but it certainly didn’t feel like a place you should be.

With a deep breath, you slowly sat up, your feet touching the cold floor. After a moment’s pause, you decided you couldn’t just sit here, unsure of what was going on.

The hallway outside the room was silent, save for the muffled sound of distant chatter. You stepped out and walked toward the elevator, your mind racing with questions. You reached the lobby, the plush carpet soft underfoot, and approached the receptionist desk, where a young woman sat typing on her computer.

“Excuse me,” you said quietly, your voice still raw from the sleep. The receptionist looked up, offering a warm smile. “Can I help you?”

You hesitated for a moment, still trying to gather your thoughts. “I… I woke up here, and I’m not sure how I got here. Can you tell me what happened?”

The receptionist took a moment to study you, her gaze flicking to the key card in your hand. “Oh, I see. You were brought in this morning. A man dropped you off though he didn’t stay long. Just… dropped you off and left.”

You frowned, the confusion deepening. "Did you see his face?"

She shook her head, her expression apologetic. "No, he was wearing a hood. I couldn’t see anything and he didn’t say much.”

You sighed out a breath, feeling a strange mix of relief and frustration. Relief, because at least you weren’t in immediate danger, and frustration because you still had no answers.

“Thank you,” you said, forcing a smile as you handed back the key card.

The receptionist nodded sympathetically as you turned and walked out.

--

The days that followed felt like a blur of events, each one blending into the next. The shock of the robbery and the kidnapping seemed to hang over you like a cloud, the adrenaline of the event never fully disappearing.

The police had been persistent, asking you question after question, trying to get every detail you could remember. You recounted everything—what you saw, what you heard, how the robbers acted, how you ended up in the hotel.

But what unsettled you the most was the fact that the place they had taken you to—the hidden basement, the garage, everything—was now completely empty. The police had searched the location, but there was nothing. No traces and no leftover evidence. It was as if the robbers had vanished into thin air.

And when they tried to trace the hotel, it was the same story. The receptionist’s memory was all they had, and that wasn’t much to go on. A hooded man had dropped you off. No name. No face. Nothing.

The police had no leads, and you were left with nothing but your own confusion and growing fear.

You tried to keep going. You tried to move on, to get back to some semblance of normalcy, but the feeling that had surged through you—danger, uncertainty, that rush of adrenaline—was a hard thing to shake.

You’d always thought you wanted something more, something thrilling. But now that you had experienced it, now that you had tasted that kind of danger, it felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch. It wasn’t something you could walk away from. It was always there.

You went back to your work, your life, doing your best to keep your routine in place. But nothing felt quite the same. It was like you were constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for something to happen, waiting for those men to reappear.

Some nights, the fear crept back in, and you’d find yourself unable to sleep, lying awake in bed, the images of the action flashing through your mind. And then there were those moments, when the rush, the thrill, would start to creep in too. You’d catch yourself staring out a window, lost in thought, wondering what it would be like to see one of them again.

It was dangerous, you knew. But it felt impossible to escape that feeling. Something about it was… addictive.

--

The morning sunlight filtered through your window, casting a warm glow over your apartment, but as you opened the door, the peaceful atmosphere quickly shifted. There, lying on the floor just outside your door, was a bag—an expensive-looking, high-end designer bag, its sleek material catching the light.

You tilted your head in confusion, wondering who could have left it there. Your heart skipped a beat as you crouched down and zipped it open. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw what was inside.

A piece of paper was folded neatly, the words scrawled in neat, precise handwriting: "Wear it for me."

The signature beneath the words read: Wolf.

A chill ran through you, but the bag was filled with more than just a note. Inside, you found an assortment of beautifully crafted jewelry—shiny necklaces, delicate bracelets, and a pair of earrings that sparkled like diamonds. There were also clothes—luxurious fabric, intricate stitching, and garments that screamed wealth.

You felt your stomach tighten, torn between the unease that bubbled up within you and the undeniable curiosity that had you looking over your shoulder. But there was no one in sight. No one watching.

You picked up the bag, feeling the weight of it in your hands. You glanced around the hallway, half-expecting someone to jump out at you. But nothing. No movement, nothing.

Stepping back into your apartment, you closed the door behind you, your mind racing. The room felt stuffy all of a sudden, and your hands trembled slightly as you quickly checked the news, hoping to find something—anything—that could explain this. But there was nothing. No new robberies. No incidents. The police reports hadn’t changed.

You looked at the open bag sitting on the floor in front of you. The glint of the jewelry, sparkling almost like it was teasing you. Each piece seemed to tempt you, daring you to pick it up, to try it on.

Your fingers hovered over the contents of the bag before you quickly pulled them back, shaking your head. This is ridiculous, you told yourself. It wasn’t safe, wasn’t normal. You didn’t know the Wolf’s intentions—what this gesture even meant.

You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to pull back. "No," you muttered under your breath. Whatever game the Wolf was playing, you weren’t going to be part of it.

Leaving the bag on the floor where it was, you grabbed your coat, slipped on your shoes, and headed for the door. You needed to get out, clear your head, put some distance between you and whatever this was.

--

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, as you decided to take a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind.

Walking, your steps slowed in front of a jewelry store. The display window sparkled under the bright lights, showcasing an array of necklaces, rings, and bracelets. The pieces were beautiful, elegant, and impossibly expensive.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the faint sound of footsteps behind you until a low, familiar voice broke through the quiet.

“Do you like what you’re seeing?”

You froze for a moment before turning your head slightly, glancing over your shoulder. Your breath caught when you saw him—the handsome man you had crashed into days ago.

For a moment, your mind raced, trying to make sense of his sudden appearance. He was dressed casually, hands tucked into his pockets, an air of confidence around him.

“Yeah,” you said softly, turning back to the window. “They’re beautiful.”

“They’d suit you,” he replied, his tone smooth, yet sincere.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words, your heart giving a traitorous flutter. “Thanks,” you mumbled, looking away from the display and at the ground, trying to compose yourself.

There was a pause before he spoke again, his voice calm but laced with something deeper, something unreadable. “Jewelry like that... it’s meant to make a statement. To say something about the person wearing it.”

You glanced up at him, his gaze fixed on the display for a moment before shifting to meet yours. His eyes held yours, and for a second, you could feel the intensity behind them.

“Maybe,” you said cautiously, your voice barely above a whisper.

A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as though he understood something you didn’t. “You don’t think it’s for you?”

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I’m not sure it fits my life right now,” you admitted, thinking about the bag sitting untouched back in your apartment.

His smile grew, but it wasn’t mocking—it was... intrigued. “Maybe you just haven’t stepped into the right life yet.”

Before you could respond, he straightened, taking a step back.

“Think about it,” he said simply, giving you a slight nod before turning and disappearing into the flow of pedestrians on the sidewalk.

You stood there, rooted in place, staring after him as your heart thudded in your chest.

Who was he?

After returning home, you let out a heavy sigh as your eyes landed on the bag still sitting where you’d left it. You crouched down and peeked inside once again, taking in the glimmering jewelry and the luxurious clothes.

Scrunching your nose, you muttered to yourself, What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

You closed the bag with a resigned huff and headed to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes and stepping into the hot shower. You let your mind wander for a moment, trying to make sense of everything.

After drying off and wrapping yourself in a towel, you walked back into your room. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, drawing your attention. Frowning, you picked it up and unlocked the screen to see a text from an unknown number.

The message made your stomach flip:

"You didn’t like the gift I left this morning?"

Your breath caught. For a moment, you just stared at the screen, your heart racing. You typed a quick reply:

"What do you mean?"

It didn’t take long for the reply to come.

"I didn’t see you wearing the jewels."

You froze, gripping the phone tighter in your hand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it was. Your suspicion solidified in your mind as you began typing furiously:

"Wolf?"

There was no denial.

"Out of all the names you could’ve chosen, that’s the one you stick with? I’m flattered."

You huffed in frustration, pacing your room as you typed back.

"Why are you watching me? And why would you even give me this stuff?"

A moment passed before his next reply.

"I bought it out of the goodness of my heart, just for you. Thought you’d appreciate the gesture."

You rolled your eyes, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"With stolen money."

This time, his response took a little longer, but when it came, it sent a chill down your spine.

"You didn’t seem to complain when I kept you safe, sweetheart. Or when I made sure you slept comfortably that night."

You swallowed hard, glaring at the screen as your mind flashed back to that night in the hotel. Despite your frustration, you couldn’t deny the truth in his words. You were alive, and he had been the one to ensure it.

Still, you typed back stubbornly:

"That doesn’t mean I owe you anything."

His reply came quickly, as if he had been waiting for you to say it.

"Oh, sweetheart, this isn’t about owing me. I just wanna spoil you."

You stared at the message, torn between anger, confusion, and an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Your hands trembled slightly as you locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed.

And before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the bag, placing it on the bed. Slowly, you unzipped it and pulled out the clothes first—a sleek designer outfit that felt as expensive as it looked. Next, you took out the jewelry, laying it out piece by piece. Rings, bracelets, earrings, and necklaces all glittered under the dim light of your room.

You swallowed hard as you picked up the outfit and the jewelry, staring at them for a moment. What harm could it do to just try them on?

The thought tugged at your resolve, and before long, you found yourself slipping into the outfit and clasping the jewelry around your neck and wrists. You turned toward the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself.

The person staring back at you looked expensive, untouchable, like someone who had walked out of a magazine.

You tilted your head, running your fingers through your hair. Without thinking, you grabbed your phone, adjusted your pose, and snapped a picture.

Your thumb hovered over the photo for a moment. Should I? The thought sent a thrill of uncertainty through you, but before you could overanalyze, you sent it.

The instant you hit send, regret settled in your stomach like a rock. You thought about deleting it or throwing your phone across the room, but the damage was done.

Not even a minute passed before he replied.

"Knew you’d look good in it."

Your cheeks burned as you stared at the screen. Before you could respond, another message came through.

"You wear it better than I imagined. Stunning."

The compliment sent your heart racing. You quickly typed a response:

"You’re a psycho, you know that?"

This time, the reply was almost instant.

"Maybe. But I know a good investment when I see one."

You frowned, typing quickly.

"I’m not an investment."

His response came slower this time, but it hit harder than you expected.

"You are to me. Whether you see it or not."

Your stomach churned, and before you could come up with a reply, another message came through.

"Enjoy the gifts, sweetheart. There’s more to come."

You tossed your phone onto the bed, staring at yourself in the mirror again. You felt beautiful, sure, but at what cost?

The days that followed after felt surreal, like stepping into a life that wasn’t your own. Every morning, you would find another bag or box outside your door. Each time, the gifts inside grew more extravagant—more jewelry, designer clothes, expensive shoes, even a high-end purse that you’d only ever dreamed of owning.

The Wolf never let you ignore his generosity. His messages always followed soon after, asking if you liked what he’d left and reminding you to send proof that you were wearing them.

At first, you resisted, replying with excuses about being too busy or not wanting to wear such obvious luxury items. But he was persistent, and there was always an underlying threat hidden behind his charming words. Not explicit, but enough to remind you that he was watching.

"Don’t keep me waiting, sweetheart." "I just want to see you shine." "Humor me, or should I drop by and see for myself?"

So, reluctantly, you complied. You’d slip into the outfits, put on the jewelry, and snap a picture. At first, you tried to make it obvious that you weren’t enjoying it—standing stiffly, giving half-hearted smiles. But over time, as you caught glimpses of yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t deny that the attention made you feel… special.

And when you were out, you started wearing some of the items—not all at once, but enough to feel their weight on you. The Wolf noticed immediately, always commenting when he saw you through his texts.

"Everyone’s staring at you, aren’t they? They should. You’re breathtaking." "You belong in things like this, not the life you’re trying to hold onto."

But the feeling didn’t come without guilt. Each time you put on something he sent, you couldn’t shake the thought of how he got the money to pay for it. You knew it was stolen, yet here you were, parading around in the spoils of his crimes.

As you sat on a bench in the park that evening, sipping a coffee and scrolling through your phone, a message from him lit up your screen:

"You’re starting to enjoy it, aren’t you?"

Your fingers flew across the screen as you typed out a response.

"Enjoy it? What, being spoiled by stolen money and manipulated into wearing it? No thanks."

The reply came almost instantly, like he’d been waiting for you to bite.

"Sweetheart, if you really hated it, you wouldn’t be wearing my gifts right now. Don’t lie to me."

You clenched your jaw, glaring at the screen. You could practically hear the smug tone in his voice.

"I wear them because you keep pushing, not because I like them."

It was a weak excuse, and you knew it. So did he.

"Sure you don’t," he replied, adding a winking emoji. "That’s why you’ve been strutting around town looking like you own the place. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the extra confidence."

You rolled your eyes, fingers moving quickly.

"Confidence? More like stress from worrying you’re watching me all the time. Maybe I should toss this stuff out and be done with it."

There was a pause this time, long enough that you thought you might’ve finally gotten under his skin. Then your phone buzzed again.

"You wouldn’t dare. And even if you tried, I’d just buy you more. You deserve to look like the Queen you are."

Your cheeks burned, and you hated the way your heart skipped at his words. "Stop calling me things like that."

"Why? You don’t like being called my Queen? Or would you prefer ‘baby’? ‘sweetheart? ‘angel’?"

You huffed aloud, typing furiously.

"I’d prefer if you left me alone, actually."

"Hmm, yeah, that’s not happening."

You groaned in frustration, leaning back against the bench as his next message appeared.

"C’mon, don’t be mad, sweetheart. You’re cute when you’re flustered."

"You’re insufferable."

"And yet, you keep replying. Admit it—you like our little chats."

You hesitated, glaring at the screen. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to block his number and try to move on with your life. But another part—the one that felt a flicker of excitement each time his name popped up—kept you typing.

"I reply because you won’t leave me alone," you shot back.

"Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that. You’ve got my number saved by now, don’t you?"

Your stomach flipped, and your face burned. You hadn’t saved his number, but the thought that he’d guessed something so ridiculous still made you squirm.

"In your dreams," you typed.

"Oh, sweetheart, you don’t want to know what I dream about."

Your jaw dropped, heat rushing to your cheeks as you stared at the text before locking your phone, you shoved it into your bag with an annoyed groan. He was impossible, and he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

--

The bell above the jewelry store door jingled softly as you stepped inside, greeted by the glimmer of diamonds and gold under bright display lights. The store wasn’t too crowded—just a few customers browsing quietly, the sound of soft music humming in the background.

You wandered toward the ring section, humming to yourself as you peered through the glass. Your fingers brushed over the edge of the counter as you admired the delicate pieces—sleek bands, intricate designs, and stones that sparkled.

One caught your eye: a simple silver ring with a small diamond. The kind of thing you’d never buy for yourself, but it didn’t stop you from slipping it onto your finger to admire it.

The moment felt normal.

But that didn`t seem to last.

The sound of a door slamming open behind you shattered the calm. A sharp, angry voice boomed through the store, cutting through the soft music.

"Everyone on the ground! Now!"

Your stomach twisted as you froze in place, the ring still halfway on your finger. Panic set in as the store erupted into chaos—gasps, screams, and the clatter of someone dropping their bag as people scrambled to the floor.

Your head turned slowly, heart hammering in your chest.

And there they were.

The same robbers from the bank. The masks. The guns. It was like a nightmare replaying itself, except this time you weren’t just a bystander.

Your gaze locked onto him.

The Wolf.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Behind the mask, his head tilted slightly, as if he were sizing you up, and even without seeing his face, you knew he recognized you.

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling as you raised them slowly, your mind screaming at you to do something, anything. But he wasn’t moving, and the longer he stared, the more you began to feel like his prey.

Then, finally, he spoke. His voice was low, distorted slightly by the mask but unmistakably calm.

"You really do have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, don’t you?"

The familiarity in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You took a shaky step back, but his gun followed the movement.

“Stay right there,” he ordered, and his voice wasn’t as calm this time. It was sharp and commanding.

You dropped back to the floor, your knees hitting the cold tiles as the others watched silently.

"Good girl," he muttered, almost to himself, and though the words weren’t loud, they hit you like a brick.

This wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be.

The Clown let out a loud, exaggerated laugh as his gaze landed on you, his gun resting on his shoulder. "Well, well, look who it is! Isn’t this just too good to be true?" he teased, gesturing wildly toward you with his free hand.

You stiffened, keeping your eyes down as the other robbers turned their attention to you, their movements briefly faltering.

"Seriously?" the Clown continued, leaning against one of the display cases. "Out of all the jewelry stores in the city, you walk into this one? What are the odds?"

"Focus," the Wolf snapped, his voice sharp as he shoved a handful of necklaces into a bag. But his tone wasn’t as steady as it usually was—there was something strained about it.

A skeleton, standing by the door, glanced between you and the Clown. "What, you two know her?"

The Clown chuckled, his laughter high-pitched and mocking. "Oh, we know her, all right. She’s like our little good-luck charm. Wherever she goes, we hit the jackpot!"

You felt your stomach twist, the heat of their stares making your skin crawl. You tried to stay still, tried not to draw any more attention to yourself, but the Clown’s taunting made that impossible.

"You’ve got to admit," the Clown continued, his tone dripping with amusement as he gestured to the Wolf, "this is kind of funny."

The Wolf didn’t answer, his focus locked on the bags of jewelry as if ignoring the conversation altogether.

Then, before anyone could say another word, a loud pop shattered the air.

The glass window near the front of the store exploded inward, and a thick cloud of gas began pouring in. The cops had arrived.

Chaos erupted instantly.

"Gas!" the Demon shouted, covering his face with one arm.

The Clown cursed, dropping the rings he was counting and grabbing his gun. "We’ve got company!"

The gas spread quickly, making your eyes water and your throat burn. You coughed, trying to crawl toward the counter for some kind of cover, but you didn’t make it far.

Rough hands grabbed you by the arm, yanking you upright. You barely had time to scream before the Demon’s arm was around your neck, dragging you backward toward the exit.

"Shield!" he barked, his voice muffled.

"No!" you gasped, struggling against his grip, but he only tightened his hold, keeping your body in front of his as the store filled with smoke.

The Wolf turned sharply, his eyes—or rather, his mask—locking onto you. "Demon, leave her!"

"No time for this!" the Demon snapped back, holding you tighter as you kicked against him. "You want us to get out or not?"

The Clown was already firing shots through the gas, laughing like a maniac as the police closed in.

Your heart raced as you were dragged toward the back, your screams barely audible over the chaos. The Wolf hesitated for a moment, his gun raised, before letting out a growl of frustration and motioning for the others to move.

"Go! Go!" he barked, his voice laced with anger.

You were shoved through the back door and into an alley, the cold air hitting your face as the sounds of gunfire echoed behind you. The Demon didn’t loosen his grip, dragging you toward a waiting van parked at the end of the alley.

"Let me go!" you screamed, your voice hoarse, but your words fell on deaf ears.

The Clown opened the back doors of the van, waving the others inside. "C’mon, c’mon! Time to disappear again!"

The Demon shoved you forward, and you stumbled into the van, your wrists hitting the cold metal floor. The Clown climbed in behind you, pulling the doors shut as the Wolf took the driver’s seat.

The van roared to life, screeching away from the alley as the cops’ shouts faded into the distance.

You curled yourself further into the corner, trying to make yourself small, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. And then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed something—or rather, someone.

Another woman.

She was sitting on the opposite side of the van, her face pale, her hair disheveled, and her body trembling. You recognized her from the store. She’d been near the necklace displays, standing by herself. You’d barely noticed her in the chaos, but now it was clear—she’d been taken, too.

Her eyes met yours, wide and terrified, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

The Clown, seated on one of the metal benches along the wall, noticed the direction of your gaze and snickered. "Ah, don’t worry," he said, waving his hand lazily. "She’s just along for the ride, like you."

"Why?" you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

The Clown tilted his head as if you’d just asked the stupidest question in the world. "Because she was there, obviously."

The woman flinched at his casual tone, her hands clutching the fabric of her skirt as she looked between you and the Clown.

"Let us go," you said, the words stumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. Your voice shook, but you forced yourself to continue. "You don’t need us. We—we’re just witnesses. You got what you wanted—"

"Shut it," the Demon snapped, cutting you off. He was leaning against the side of the van, his arms crossed, the mask over his face making him look even more menacing. "We’re not letting anyone go until we’re in the clear."

You clenched your fists, anger flickering beneath the fear. "This is insane—"

"Insane?" The Clown laughed, leaning forward slightly. "Sweetheart, you don’t even know the half of it."

The Wolf’s voice cut through the tension from the driver’s seat, calm but firm. "Enough."

The Clown rolled his eyes but leaned back, stretching his arms out like he didn’t have a care in the world.

The van hit a bump, and you winced, grabbing the wall to steady yourself. The woman across from you whimpered softly, her eyes darting toward the doors as if she were contemplating throwing herself out.

"Don’t even think about it," the Demon muttered, noticing her gaze.

The van fell into an uneasy silence, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the occasional squeal of the tires as the Wolf took another sharp turn.

You looked at the woman again, and this time you spoke softly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Are you okay?"

She blinked at you, her lips trembling. "I—I don’t know," she whispered.

You nodded, your throat tightening. You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? Both of you were trapped, at the mercy of masked criminals who seemed to thrive on chaos.

The Clown glanced between you and the woman, a grin audible in his voice even if you couldn’t see his face. "Don’t worry, ladies. We’re taking real good care of you."

You glared at him, your fear momentarily eclipsed by anger. "Care? You call this care?"

The Clown laughed again, but the Wolf interrupted sharply.

"Clown, I said enough."

The Clown huffed, leaning back in his seat. "Fine, fine. Killjoy."

As the van turned into what felt like another narrow alley, you clenched your fists tighter, your nails digging into your palms. The woman across from you mirrored your fear, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Shouts and sirens blared behind you, the chaos reaching a deafening crescendo.

“They’re right on us!” the Clown shouted, gripping the edge of his seat as he leaned toward the back doors, peering through the small window. “There’s three cars chasing—no, four!”

The Demon growled, raising his gun to return fire out the back. Bullets shattered the van’s rear window, glass flying everywhere. You ducked instinctively, covering your head, your ears ringing from the deafening blasts.

The woman next to you screamed, clutching the bench for dear life, her face pale as a ghost.

"Keep them off us!" the Wolf barked from the driver’s seat, his voice sharp and unyielding as he yanked the van into a hard drift around a corner. The tires screeched again, the force slamming you into the wall of the van.

The Skeleton, who’d been silent the entire ride, crouched near the back doors with a rifle in hand. "I’ve got it!" he shouted, leaning out of the broken window to aim at the pursuing cop cars. He fired several rounds, the recoil kicking against his shoulder.

A loud bang followed as one of the police cars spun out, crashing into a parked vehicle.

“That’s one down!” the Skeleton yelled, a hint of triumph in his voice.

But his victory was short-lived.

Another pop of gunfire came from behind, and before you could process what had happened, the Skeleton froze, his body jerking forward violently. Blood sprayed against the inside of the van as he dropped his rifle, clutching his chest.

“No!” the Clown shouted, scrambling toward him.

The Skeleton gasped for air, his body trembling as he collapsed onto the floor of the van.

"Dammit!" the Demon hissed, grabbing the fallen rifle and firing blindly out the back. "They got him!"

You couldn’t take your eyes off the Skeleton’s body. This wasn’t just some action movie or heist drama. Someone had just died right in front of you.

The Clown muttered a string of curses, shaking Skeleton’s shoulder as if trying to wake him up. "Come on, man. Not now. Not like this."

But it was no use. He was gone.

The woman beside you sobbed quietly, her face buried in her hands. You wanted to comfort her, to say something, but no words came.

The Wolf’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Demon, take the rifle and keep them back. Clown, sit down. He’s gone. We can’t stop now."

The Clown hesitated, his body trembling with barely contained anger, but he finally obeyed, slamming his fist against the metal wall before sitting back.

The Demon took Skeleton’s place at the broken window, firing round after round at the remaining cop cars.

The van swerved again, throwing you against the side. Your head slammed into the metal with a dull thud, and your vision blurred for a moment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the gunfire stopped altogether. The van jolted to a halt in what seemed like another underground garage, and for a moment, everything was silent except for the sound of your own ragged breathing.

The Wolf killed the engine, his hands still gripping the wheel tightly.

The Clown was the first to speak, his voice hollow. “We lost him.”

No one responded.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

The Demon barked orders as they moved quickly, unloading bags of cash and weapons from the van and transferring them to a sleek black SUV parked nearby. Every move they made was quick and calculated, their boots echoing loudly in the underground garage.

You and the woman stood there, side by side, both of you trembling for different reasons. Her fear was evident in the way she kept shaking, her eyes darting everywhere like she was looking for a way out. You, on the other hand, were frozen in silent fury, your body stiff as you glared daggers at the Clown, who stood a few feet away, his gun trained lazily in your direction.

“Man, this was a mess,” the Clown said casually, his tone far too relaxed given the situation. He tilted his head toward you, his painted mask cocked like he was grinning beneath it. "But hey, look on the bright side—at least you got to hang out with us again. Bet you missed us, huh?"

You didn’t respond, your glare sharp enough to cut glass.

He laughed, as if your silence only amused him. "Still giving me the silent treatment? You know, you’re gonna hurt my feelings if you keep this up."

Beside you, the woman whimpered softly, clearly unable to handle the Clown’s twisted sense of humor. He turned his attention to her next, his voice mockingly sweet.

“Aw, don’t cry, lady. We’re not all bad. Well...” He chuckled. “Most of us aren’t great, but at least I’m entertaining, right?”

The woman shook her head, her lips quivering as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Leave her alone,” you snapped, unable to stay quiet any longer.

The Clown turned back to you, tilting his head again. “There she is! Knew you couldn’t keep quiet forever.”

“Shut up,” you bit out, your voice low and venomous.

He let out a mock gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "So cold! You really do know how to break a guy’s heart."

The Demon’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Clown, enough.”

The Clown shrugged, stepping back slightly but still keeping the gun pointed at you and the woman. "Fine, fine. No fun allowed."

After a few more tense minutes, the Demon slammed the trunk of the SUV shut, signaling that they were done loading.

The Wolf glanced over at you as he walked toward the driver’s side door. His gaze lingered for a moment, and though his mask obscured his expression, there was something unreadable in his posture.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

The Clown smirked, giving you a two-fingered salute before backing toward the SUV. “Well, ladies, it’s been real. Don’t miss us too much, okay?”

The woman let out a quiet sob, and you clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought the urge to say something—anything—that might provoke them further.

The Clown climbed into the backseat, leaning out the window one last time as the SUV started up.

“Oh, and one more thing...” He leaned out of the window dramatically, throwing a mocking kiss in your direction. "Mwah!"

You glared at him, your jaw tightening, but you didn’t respond.

For a few moments, everything was silent except for the distant hum of the SUV’s engine fading into the distance.

The woman collapsed to her knees beside you, her body wracked with sobs. You stood there, your fists still clenched, your chest heaving as you tried to process what had just happened.

--

The flashing red and blue lights of the police cars reflected off the damp pavement as the cops swarmed the abandoned van where you and the woman had been left. You watched in silence as the officers questioned her, her voice trembling as she spilled everything she could recall about the robbery.

After hours of questioning and paperwork, they finally let you go. Exhausted, you dragged yourself home. The weight of the day pressed heavily on your shoulders, but even as you sank into your couch, staring blankly at the TV screen, the adrenaline from the encounter still buzzed faintly beneath your skin.

You tried distracting yourself with a movie, flipping through channels until you landed on something familiar.

Then, your phone buzzed.

The sound made you jump, when you reached for your phone and saw the notification, your breath caught in your throat.

It was him.

"Miss me yet?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, unsure how to respond—or if you even should. Your fingers hovered over the screen, torn between ignoring him and diving into a conversation you knew you shouldn’t be having.

Before you could think too hard, another message came through.

"You didn’t tell them about me, did you? Good."

You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening.

"How do you know I didn’t?"

The three little dots indicating he was typing appeared immediately.

"Let’s just say I have my ways."

You frowned, your fingers tightening around your phone.

"Why are you messaging me? What do you want?"

There was a pause before his next message.

"Thought I’d check in."

Your lips parted in disbelief. Was he serious?

"You can’t just ‘check in’ like this. You’re a criminal."

He answered right after.

"And yet, here you are, replying to me."

Curiosity finally got the better of you.

"I have a question."

The reply came faster than you expected.

"Ask away, doll."

"All the stuff you’ve given me… the jewelry, the clothes, everything. Did you really buy it? Or was it all stolen?"

You waited, biting your lip, half-expecting him to dodge the question. But then your phone buzzed again.

"Bought. Every single piece. You deserve the best, not leftovers from a heist."

His words made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t want to admit. But still, you weren’t convinced.

"I don’t trust you."

"I know. That’s fair. What would it take for you to trust me?"

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Part of you didn’t even want to respond, but the absurdity of it all made you type before you could think twice.

"A mirror picture."

You sent it jokingly.

"Like the ones I’ve been sending to you."

There was a long pause, and you were about to type again when your phone buzzed. A photo popped up in your chat, and you froze.

Wow...

He was sitting on the edge of a bed, facing a mirror. Black pants hugged his legs, and a simple white shirt clung to his broad shoulders. Silver jewelry adorned his wrists and fingers, glinting under the soft light of the room. A chunky chain rested around his neck.

But his face was hidden—his phone held up in front of it, the sleek black screen obscuring his features.

Your breath hitched as you stared at the image. It was strangely intimate, like you were seeing a side of him he didn’t show anyone else.

"Satisfied?"

You blinked, trying to collect yourself.

"That doesn’t prove anything. Your face is still hidden."

"I didn’t think you’d want to see me yet. You might get hooked."

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks burned as you typed back.

"You’re so full of yourself."

"And yet, you’re still talking to me."

He had a point, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"Don’t you have something better to do than bother me?"

"Not really. You’re the most interesting thing in my life right now."

Your chest tightened at his words, and you quickly changed the subject.

"You didn’t answer my question, though. How do I know the jewels wasn’t stolen?"

"You don’t."

You frowned, unsure if that was meant to be reassuring or not.

"This doesn’t make me trust you."

"That’s fine. I have time to change your mind."

You sighed, leaning back against the couch as you stared at his picture again. There was something about him.. something.

The days after that conversation felt… different. You didn’t know why you kept responding, but something about his persistence kept pulling you in.

His messages started coming more frequently, each one bolder than the last.

"What are you wearing today?"

You rolled your eyes at that one but still replied.

"I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie."

"Disappointing. I was imagining something more exciting."

"Get your imagination in check."

And then there were the voice memos. The first one caught you completely off guard.

His voice was deep, smooth, with an almost teasing edge to it.

"You’re always so defensive, doll. Relax a little. I’m not trying to hurt you."

The moment you heard it, your cheeks burned. You told yourself it was just the surprise of hearing him—not because his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Absolutely not.

You didn’t reply to that one immediately, hoping he’d leave it at that. But then another one came the next day.

"You didn’t respond to me yesterday. Are you mad, or did I just leave you speechless? Either way, I don’t mind."

Your fingers hovered over your phone, debating whether to reply. You told yourself to ignore it. But curiosity got the better of you again.

"Speechless? Not likely. I just have better things to do."

His reply came quickly, this time another voice memo.

"Better things? Like what? Sitting at home in the hoodie and jeans you wouldn’t let me imagine?"

You groaned but couldn’t stop yourself from laughing under your breath. He was relentless.

And it only got worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it.

One night, as you were scrolling on your phone, a longer voice memo came through. You hesitated before pressing play.

"You know," he began, his tone softer but still carrying that teasing lilt, "you don’t have to keep playing hard to get. I like this game, sure, but I’m patient. I’ve got all the time in the world to win you over."

Your stomach flipped, and you hated how much his words affected you.

"Win me over? You’re delusional."

He sent a message almost immediately.

"Maybe. But I think you’re starting to like it. Admit it, doll."

You didn’t admit anything, of course. But the truth was, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him—not his words, not his voice, not the way he made you feel.

And that terrified you. Because even though you tried to ignore it, you were starting to enjoy the attention. Starting to crave it, even.

But how could you let yourself fall for someone like him? Someone dangerous, mysterious, and so clearly off-limits?

You didn’t know. But what scared you most was that part of you didn’t care anymore.

--

You were crouched in the back of the store, stocking shelves. It had been a quiet day, and you were lost in your routine, mindlessly organizing items when you heard it—a voice that froze you in place.

"You’re really good at this, you know. Stocking shelves. Very meticulous."

Your breath caught in your throat. That voice. That smooth, teasing voice you’d come to recognize through late-night messages and voice memos.

You turned slowly, heart hammering, and there he was. The guy you had crashed into on the street. The same guy who had flustered you outside the jewelry store. But now, seeing him up close, hearing his voice—his voice—everything came crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

It was the Wolf.

Your lips parted, your instinct to scream taking over, but before you could make a sound, his hand clamped over your mouth. His other arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in close.

"Shh, doll," he whispered, his voice low and calm, but there was a hint of steel beneath it. "Let’s not make a scene."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could feel it against his chest. You struggled against his hold, your mind racing with panic, anger, and disbelief.

"I knew I’d run into you eventually," he continued, his voice soft but dripping with that familiar smugness. "Though I didn’t expect it to be while you were busy stacking shelves."

You glared at him, your muffled protests pushing against his palm.

"If I let go, are you going to scream?" he asked, tilting his head as if he were genuinely curious.

You nodded furiously, and he chuckled.

"Honest. I like that about you."

You squirmed harder, and finally, he sighed, leaning in closer. His lips were almost brushing your ear now, and his voice dropped to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"Scream if you want, doll. But just know, if you do, I’ll have to leave. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?"

The way he said it wasn’t a threat—it was a promise, one that left you frozen in place. Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth, watching you intently as if daring you to make a move.

You didn’t scream. You couldn’t.

"That’s my girl," he said with a smirk, his arm still loosely wrapped around your waist.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you hissed, your voice low but trembling.

"Shopping," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And maybe visiting you. Call it multitasking."

You pushed against his chest, breaking free of his hold, and he let you go, though his smirk didn’t falter.

"You’re insane," you spat, taking a step back, your voice rising slightly.

"And yet, here we are," he said, leaning casually against the shelf as if this was all perfectly normal.

You wanted to yell, to shove him out of the store, but all you could do was stare, your mind still reeling. The man who had been sending you messages, giving you gifts, teasing you relentlessly—he wasn’t some untouchable figure. He was here. Right in front of you.

And he was everything you feared he would be. Charming. Dangerous. And completely unapologetic.

You turned away from him, your hands trembling as you grabbed the next item to stock. You focused on the task, willing your racing heart to calm down. Maybe if you ignored him, he’d get bored and leave.

"You’re just going to pretend I’m not here?" His voice was laced with amusement. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was still watching you, his gaze burning into the back of your head. "I didn’t take you for the silent treatment type, doll."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to rise to his bait.

He chuckled softly. "Come on. I get points for effort, don’t I? I’ve been nothing but generous. All those gifts, all those messages... and this is how you treat me?"

You slammed a box of items onto the shelf a little too hard, the sound echoing through the aisle.

"Careful," he said, his tone mocking concern. "You’re going to break something. And then what? Do I have to buy the whole shelf to make it up to you?"

You finally spun around, glaring at him. "What do you want?"

He grinned, clearly enjoying how easily you snapped. "What do I want? That’s a loaded question." He stepped closer, his movements unhurried and deliberate. "But right now? I just want you."

You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious—or just messing with you. The way he leaned casually against the shelf, arms crossed, he looked completely at ease, like this was just another day for him.

"You’re insane," you muttered, turning back to your work.

"You’ve said that already," he teased. "It’s starting to sound like a compliment."

You didn’t respond, focusing on stacking the last of the items in the box. He stayed quiet for a moment, and you thought—hoped—he might finally leave.

But of course, he didn’t.

"You know," he started again, "I’ve been picturing this for a while. You, working. Me watching you." His voice dropped slightly, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. "Roles reversed for once."

You threw him a sharp glare over your shoulder. "Do you ever stop talking?"

He smirked. "Only when there’s a good reason to."

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the shelf, but you could feel the heat of his gaze following your every movement.

"You’re cute when you’re mad, by the way," he added. "But you probably already knew that."

You ignored him, determined not to let him get under your skin any more than he already had.

But as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat every time he spoke.

You froze as his arm suddenly came up, caging you between the shelf and his body. His other hand rested casually on the edge of the shelf near your head, but there was nothing casual about the way he leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I’m talking to you, doll," he said, his voice low and teasing. "I don’t like being ignored."

You swallowed hard, glancing around the store, your mind racing. There was no one else in this section—just the two of you.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady, but your nerves betrayed you.

"Getting your attention," he said simply, tilting his head as his eyes roamed over your face. "Because you’re clearly trying to avoid me, and that’s no fun."

You tried to step back, but the shelf pressed against your spine. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, and the faint scent of his cologne invaded your senses, disorienting you.

"You can’t just—just do this," you stammered, your hands hovering awkwardly at your sides, unsure whether to push him away or keep them where they were.

"Why not?" he asked, his tone infuriatingly calm. His eyes flicked down to your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your gaze again. "It’s not like you’ve told me to stop."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. He smiled, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

"So, here’s the deal," he said, leaning in just a little closer. His voice dropped to a near whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’m asking you out. Right here, right now."

Your eyes widened. "You’re what?"

"You heard me," he said, his smile widening. "Let me take you out. Dinner, drinks, whatever you want."

You blinked at him, your mind scrambling to process his words. Of all the things he could have said, this was the last thing you expected.

"You’re insane," you finally muttered, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"You’ve mentioned that," he replied with a chuckle. "But you didn’t say no."

"No," you said quickly, finally finding your voice.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "Is that your final answer?"

"Yes," you snapped, though it came out weaker than you’d intended.

His smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew. "We’ll see about that," he murmured, leaning back slightly, though he didn’t move away entirely. "I’ve got time."

You glared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I don’t."

"Then I’ll just have to be quick, won’t I?" he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Before stepping back entirely, his hand darted out, catching yours in his grip. You tensed, your instinct telling you to pull away, but his hold was firm yet strangely gentle. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, lingering on the ring you’d forgotten you were wearing—the one he had sent in a gift bag just a few days ago.

"Ah," he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he admired it. "You kept it. You do like my gifts, after all."

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, he bent down, his lips brushing the back of your hand in a kiss that sent a jolt through your body.

"Perfect fit," he murmured as he straightened, his smirk firmly in place. "Looks even better on you than I imagined."

Your face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and anger. "What is wrong with you?" you hissed, yanking your hand away and cradling it to your chest like it had been burned.

He just chuckled, his gaze never leaving yours as he took a slow step back. "You’ll come around, doll," he said, his confidence maddening.

"Not in a million years," you snapped.

"We’ll see," he said, winking before turning and walking away, his casual stride making it seem like he didn’t have a care in the world.

You stood there for a moment, staring after him, your hand still pressed against your chest.

After that it was relentless. Every time your phone buzzed, you knew it was him. The texts came like clockwork: teasing remarks, flirtatious comments, and, without fail, him asking you out. You rejected him every time, telling him no, reminding him this was never going to happen, but he never seemed fazed.

He started showing up. At first, it was just at your job. He’d stroll in like he owned the place, leaning casually against the counter, that smirk of his permanently etched on his face. He’d make small talk, tease you, and then, inevitably, ask, "Dinner tonight?"

"No," you’d reply sharply, barely sparing him a glance as you went about your work.

"One day, you’ll say yes," he’d say confidently before leaving, and it drove you insane.

Then he escalated.

The first time he showed up outside your school, you almost screamed. You had just stepped out of the building when you saw him leaning against a sleek black car, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on his nose.

"What are you doing here!?" you asked, narrowing your eyes as you stopped a few feet away from him.

"Figured I’d give you a ride home," he said nonchalantly, tilting his head toward the car.

"I don’t need a ride," you said, crossing your arms.

"Didn’t ask if you needed one," he replied smoothly, opening the passenger door with a casual flourish. "Get in."

"No."

He sighed dramatically, removing his sunglasses and looking at you with those piercing eyes of his. "Look, we can stand here all day, or you can get in the car. Your choice, doll."

You glared at him, your stubbornness clashing with his. But as the minutes ticked by and other students started to glance your way, you finally relented with a huff. "Fine."

"Knew you’d see reason," he said with a grin as you climbed into the car.

The bickering didn’t stop there. You told him repeatedly to leave you alone, to stop showing up, but he never listened.

"You’re persistent," you muttered one day as he drove, your arms crossed as you stared out the window.

"I prefer ‘determined,’" he replied with a smirk, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny the small, traitorous part of you that almost looked forward to his appearances. It was maddening, frustrating, and yet… you didn’t hate it.

--

The late evening air was crisp as you got ready, the faint sound of distant cars humming in the background. You glanced down at yourself, smoothing out the fabric of your outfit—a dress that hugged you just right.

You slipped on your heels, the soft click of them on the ground echoing as you locked the door behind you. Your purse hung over your shoulder, packed with just the essentials.

Your friends’ car was parked at the curb, the music already blaring as the passenger window rolled down. Yuna was in the front seat, leaning out slightly to wave at you with a grin. "Finally! We thought you’d take forever!"

"I’m here, aren’t I?" you teased, walking toward the car and opening the door.

Wonyoung and Chaewon were in the backseat, laughing over something on Wonyoung’s phone. Yuna turned down the music slightly as you climbed in and buckled your seatbelt.

"You look amazing," Chaewon said, eyeing your outfit with approval.

"Agreed!" Wonyoung added, nudging you playfully. "Who’s the lucky guy tonight?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. "It’s not like that. Let’s just have fun, okay?"

The car roared to life as Yuna stepped on the gas, the upbeat music filling the small space once again. The club was about twenty minutes away, and as you looked out the window, the city lights blurred past.

When the car pulled into the parking lot of the club, you stepped out, adjusting your dress and looking up at the bright neon sign that lit up the entrance.

What you didn’t notice was the black car that parked a few rows away. Inside, a familiar figure sat, watching you intently as you laughed with your friends and disappeared into the crowd at the entrance.

The dance floor was crowded, bodies moving to the beat, lights flashing in bursts of color that left you feeling free, untethered.

You swayed to the music, letting yourself get lost in it, your arms lifting as you spun slightly. Everything felt good—better than it had in a long time. Your friends were nearby, dancing and laughing, but at that moment, you were in your own little world.

Until you weren’t.

A hand brushed your waist, and a figure stepped up behind you. At first, you thought nothing of it—people were constantly bumping into each other on the crowded floor. But then you caught it: the sour, musky scent of sweat and stale cologne. It wasn’t pleasant, and it made your nose wrinkle instinctively.

The guy leaned in closer, his presence too heavy, his breath hot against your neck as he tried to match your movements. You froze for a second, then subtly shifted away, putting some distance between you and him without making a scene.

But he followed.

He pressed in again, his hand grazing your arm this time, and you turned to glance at him over your shoulder. He was taller, with an unsettling grin and eyes that were too confident. His intentions were clear, and the sight of him only made your unease grow.

You moved again, this time more deliberately, angling yourself toward your friends. But before you could take another step, the guy grabbed your wrist lightly, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. "Where you going, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice slurred, his grip tightening just enough to make your stomach churn.

Your heart sped up, and you tugged your wrist away, your voice firm but not loud. "I’m not interested."

He didn’t seem to care. "Don’t be like that. I just wanna talk."

You scanned the dance floor, hoping to spot one of your friends, but the crowd felt suffocating now, the lights too bright. Panic bubbled just beneath the surface as the guy moved closer again.

But then, out of nowhere, another presence loomed behind you—larger, steadier. A hand reached out and clasped the guy’s shoulder, pulling him back sharply.

"She said she’s not interested," a familiar voice said.

Your head whipped around, and your stomach dropped. It was him. Standing there in the middle of the club, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and burning with intensity.

The guy holding your wrist scowled, trying to shake his grip off. "What’s it to you, man?"

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Everything."

The guy hesitated, clearly weighing his options, but after a tense moment, the guy muttered something under his breath and released your wrist, disappearing into the crowd.

He turned to you, his hand brushing yours as if checking to make sure you were okay. "You alright?" he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. "What are you doing here?"

His lips curved into a faint smirk. "What can I say? I like keeping an eye on what’s mine."

Your eyes narrowed, a mix of annoyance and confusion. "I’m not yours."

But he just chuckled, his hand falling away as he took a step back. "Not yet."

He turned to walk into the crowd, leaving you to stand there.

For a split second, everything felt like it was moving too fast, and then, without thinking, you grabbed his arm. The wolf—no, he—stopped in his tracks, his body going stiff for a moment, surprised.

You didn’t care. You were done letting things happen around you without doing something.

You tugged on his sleeve, pulling him back toward you, and he let you. His dark eyes flickered with surprise as he leaned down, close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin. His presence was intense, like a fire you couldn’t step away from, his hands instinctively falling to your waist, holding you steady as if you might fall.

"Where do you think you're going?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, though it was more demanding than you expected.

His grip on you tightened, his body language shifting from the casuality he’d always shown to something a bit more... intimate. "I could ask you the same thing," he replied, his voice low.

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. Something about this, about him being so close, felt like it was pulling you in deeper. You’d been fighting the connection for so long, but now, with his arms around you, the fight felt distant.

“I’m not some... object to control,” you said, but even you could hear the uncertainty in your voice.

His lips curled into a faint, teasing smile, and he leaned even closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. "No, you're not," he murmured, his voice a gentle hum against your ear. "But you like when I take control, don’t you?"

Your breath hitched. It was a question, but he was already certain of the answer. Your hands instinctively moved to his chest, your fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt.

He looked at you for a long beat, his gaze softer now, as if he was studying you. "You really don`t want me to leave?"

You didn't answer right away, but when you did, your words were quiet, raw. "I don't know what I want anymore."

He didn’t let you go, his fingers brushing your hair back gently, his lips ghosting over your temple as he leaned down. "Maybe I can help you figure it out."

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden tenderness. His touch was so gentle...

“I don’t even know your name,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours with a gaze that made everything in the room seem a little less important. There was a flicker of amusement in his expression, “It’s Ni-ki,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to give you that piece of him.

Ni-ki.

You repeated it silently in your mind, the name feeling foreign but familiar, a puzzle piece that somehow fit.

Before you could even process it fully, his hand brushed against your cheek, his thumb gently tracing your skin. "Have fun," he added, his voice softer now.

Then, without another word, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Before Ni-ki turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

You touched your forehead where his lips had been, feeling the trace of his kiss burn even though he was already gone.

What had just happened?

Part 2 here

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[yeollie-plz]

Fill

Miguel O’Hara x F! Reader

Synopsis: You babysit Mayday, it puts thoughts into Miguel’s head.

Genre: smut!

Warnings: smut, 18+, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, p in v sex, kissing, biting, fingering, choking, spanking, daddy kink slipped in there at the end

Gif credits to owners!

Miguel was expecting to come home to his beautiful wife, eat some food, maybe make love to her, and bask in each other’s warmth until they fell asleep. What he sure didn’t expect was to come home to said wife babysitting Mayday for Peter. You might have forgotten to mention to Miguel that you were babysitting tonight.

Honestly, you didn’t mention it because you didn’t want him to say no and Peter and MJ really needed the night out. No baby. So now you and your husband were going to have a night in. With a baby.

To say Miguel wasn’t thrilled would be an understatement. He was borderline angry with you at the “slip” of your mind. It’s not like Miguel hated Mayday in any aspect but the thought of you holding a baby brought up strange feelings inside of him.

He had tried for the year that Mayday has been around to try and push those feelings down. But every time he saw you even glance at the baby had him all in a fit. Miguel didn’t think he’d ever be ready for a child again, but seeing you so motherly was changing his mind.

I mean, he didn’t think he’d ever want to get married again and there you were changing his plans.

You two have had the baby talk before, as well. You were always so understanding of his past and never pushed him too far. But he did notice the disappointment on your face when he had said he never wanted kids.

Never? Why had he said never? It was such a harsh conclusion and in recent months, it was one he was regretting making.

He could imagine you now, belly full of his seed, a prominent bump showing what the two of you had made.

Shit. He needed to get those images out of his or he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

Shaking his head Miguel retreated to the kitchen, leaving you to continue to play with the baby uninterrupted. Busying himself with looking through the cabinets, like he wanted to cook something.

“Miggy?” You questioned as you entered the kitchen, Mayday perched on your hip. He turned and took in the sight, imagining what a mini you would look like. He sighed.

“Did you want me to make you something to eat?” You were trying to read the look on his face.

“No.” He grumbled and pushed pass you and into the living room.

“Miguel, I know you’re mad that I didn’t tell you. But it was an honest mistake. Plus, you know I love Mayday and since we-“

“Don’t.” He cut you off. Your mouth snapped closed at what you were about to say. Before you could apologize Miguel made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him. You blinked in shock, you didn’t want to start a fight in front of poor little Mayday. This would have to be brought up later.

It was nearing the time that Peter was supposed to arrive to pickup Mayday. You were a bit sad to say goodbye to her but you were also exhausted. Suddenly, you understood why Peter didn’t even change out of his pajamas most days. Especially with a spider baby!

She stuck to everything! And being someone without powers, your knowledge on the matter wasn’t very strong. Sure, you knew a lot about Miguel’s powers but he was what…Spider-Man number 30 out of 1 million? You wished you could ask Miguel for some help.

Eventually you figured out the best way to unstick Mayday was to distract her. Show her a toy, play peekaboo, maybe give her snack. Anything to keep her hands busy and off your ceiling. You hadn’t heard Miguel much through the night. You figured he had gone to sleep or was silently doing some work.

When you agreed to watch Mayday, you hoped the two of you would be able to do this as a team. But obviously, that thought was all wrong.

Peter came about 30 minutes later, knocking on your door. Miguel heard the door open, a few words being exchanged, and a rush of thank yous as the door shut once again. In a few quick steps you were moving across the house and throwing open the bedroom door. Miguel’s wife was not happy.

“Really Miggy? Slamming my doors now?” Usually the tone of her voice would make Miguel instantly apologize but he was too wound up to care.

“Yes I’m slamming our doors!” His voice was slightly raised as he gave a lackluster response, cringing at himself.

“All this and because I decided to help Peter out! You know they never get to go out. We are their friends Miguel, we should be helping them out!”

“I don’t mind helping out our friends, but this favor…I just.” He groans, running his face across his face and through his hair. His usually tight posture, slumping in exasperation.

“What Miggy? What is so aggravating about that little baby?” Your hands were on your hips, face turning red with your increasing anger. He was not going to get away with throwing this tantrum.

“It’s not the baby that is aggravating! It’s me seeing you with the baby!” His eyes soften as he admits the truth.

You were shocked, not understanding the meaning behind his words, “I’m the aggravating one?”

“No! Mi amor, it’s how I can’t get the thought of you round and pregnant out of my mind. The image of you running around chasing a child that we created. I thought after everything that I would never want that again but…”

It finally clicks, “You’re mad we don’t have a baby!”

“I’m mad I’m not inside you right now putting a baby in you” His eyes darken and rake across your form.

He crosses the room in three long strides, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling your body into his. His lips ghost along your neck, his hot breath creating goosebumps on your skin.

His mouth reaching your ear, whispering, “Do you want that? Want me to get you pregnant, baby?”

You can only whimper in response, which eggs Miguel on further, finally connecting his lips to yours. Desperation coats the kiss as he basically devours you.

He nips at your lower lip, pulling away. Looking down at you he takes a step back, your body reacts instinctively and tries to close the distance again. He stops you by cupping your clothed core. A strangled noise passes your lips as he uses his other hand to pull your dress over your head.

“Mmm, wore this like you knew I’d want easy access. Always so eager for this cock, hm?” His deep voice and words cause you to get even wetter.

The hand on your core moves a bit to tease you. He feels your wetness, moaning in satisfaction.

“I might not even need to prep you, baby. Wanna breed you like you weren’t meant to be bred.”

His hand grips your neck leading you towards the bed. The hand now makes it way behind your neck and brings your lips to his once again. The force causes you to moan.

“Why don’t you get on all fours for me?” He says it like a question, but you know it’s a command.

You do as you were told and get onto the bed on your hands and knees. You let your knees naturally rest a bit apart, knowing that he will just adjust you if he needs it. A hand runs down your spine, sending a shiver down with it. It reaches your ass and gives a squeeze before landing a firm smack there. Suddenly you hear a rip and feel your wet core exposed to the cool air. You glance down realizing that he had torn off your underwear.

You gasp, “Miggy!” Usually you would’ve found this extremely hot, if those weren’t your favorite panties!

“I’ll buy you new ones. Besides until you’re pregnant you’re not leaving this bed. You won’t be needing panties for a while.” Okay, now it’s hot again.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond and inserts a finger inside of you. He pumps the finger in and out quickly, testing how wet you are.

“Already all wet and ready for me. Just how I like you.”

Quickly, he pulls the finger out and before you can even protest at the loss he pushes his dick fully inside of you to the hilt. Another gasp passes your lips at the intrusion. He gives you no time to adjust before setting a pace, ravaging your body with his thick cock.

He continues his assault, pushing deep inside of you before pulling out almost completely and repeating the action. The force of his thrusts are making it hard for you to think, let alone hold yourself up. But when you start to fall to your elbows, his hand is quickly wrapped around your throat holding you up.

“Have you at the perfect angle, can feel all of you.” Is all he says as his fingers tighten on your throat. Your vision goes black from the intense pleasure.

He fucks into you harder as the pressure of his fingers releases slowly, letting some air back into your lungs. When you have enough air, you are moaning out as a particular thrust hits the perfect spot.

“Miggy please, need you to make me cum. Need your cum in me.”

His large body incapsulates yours at your confession. The hand that was on your throat makes it way down to your clit, rubbing circles into it. His teeth bite down into your shoulder, sending a shock of pleasure through you as you cum hard onto his cock.

The clenching of your orgasm causes him to groan and falter a bit, before he regains his head and pace.

“Mmm, gonna cum in you baby. Gonna make you a mommy.” He says as he shoots his seed into your awaiting womb. His orgasm seems longer and stronger than usual as he bites your shoulder once again.

After he recovers, he releases your throat, letting you fall into the plush sheets. Miguel slides out of you and pulls your body into his. He rubs your back in slow circles, calming you both down.

Eventually you speak up, “So what do you think? Think it worked, daddy?” Lust drips from your voice at the name.

“Fuck, maybe, and even if it didn’t I’m ready to go again. Just want you so full of my cum that you can feel it with every breath.”

And fill you he did.

[planetaryupscaled]

Dirty Laundry

Male Reader x Anna

Tags: 22k, smut, cheating, oral, roleplay, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Another shift was finally over, and now I was filthy and hungry from all the dirty boxes that I had lifted. I used to clock out exhausted from all the strenuous work, but lately I’ve been feeling more—worn out.

I’d been working for a couple years to get me through college, as the early morning hours coordinated well with my classes. Being in the midst of summer break however, my schedule was more flexible, so I headed straight home.

I was greeted by a bright sunny, 'Good morning!' the moment I stepped into the apartment, bouncing my way from down the hall. It was my roommate Anna, who was often just waking up when I came home from work.

Anna was an ex-girlfriend, but after too many fights and a hundred petty differences, I was thrilled to call her ‘just a friend’, and somehow, my roommate.

As the lease ran out on my previous place, I was desperate for a quick renter to help with expenses. Anna happened to be searching as well, and suggested we split a place together seeing as how we both had steady partners. It seemed ridiculous at the time, but the fact that we were otherwise attached was the only reason we had even considered it.

Anna was definitely a great friend though, and we got along better when we weren’t emotionally involved; I had to figure there was a chance we could make it work. We each assured our significant other the arrangement would be totally platonic, despite our history, and that we just needed a good living solution for a while.

My girlfriend Minji, who lived and worked outside of town, was hardly thrilled in the slightest. The girls knew each other from school, and didn’t really see eye to eye. Minji actually warned me if I ever hooked up with Anna while we were living together, she’d have me hunted down. She wasn’t joking.

But with that said, we moved in.

It actually worked out well as we got settled. Anna worked in the afternoon and went out with her friends or boyfriend after work. I would hit the bed early in the evening and was up early in the morning. The only time we even saw each other was on the weekends, or early on summer mornings.

-

“What smells so good?” I called down the hall.

“I’m making breakfast,” Anna shouted back, “I’m glad you came home.”

“Well I’m starving, thanks for cooking!”

I set my things down in the hall and considered a quick shower. I was excessively grungy, and I’d typically hop right in after walking through the door.

“You’re welcome, and it’s almost ready so don’t shower,” she said.

I walked into the living room and sat on the couch, flipping on the small TV and rambling through some channels.

Anna padded out in her bare feet and a long baggy T-shirt, flopping down next to me on the couch. “So how was work?” she asked, looking clean and fresh, especially compared to me. Her long brown hair was damp and smelled like flowers. She pulled her bare legs up underneath her and looked at me for a reply.

“Same as usual,” I sighed. “Jimin asked if I wanted to jam with him this weekend, so I think I’m heading over there tonight.”

“Sounds cool,” she said, “What does he play?”

“I hear he has a pretty impressive drum kit,” I said, getting excited thinking about playing it again.

“You’re kidding, that’s amazing!” she said, placing a hand on my leg with her eyes wide.

I felt a little awkward as her hand stayed on my leg for longer than it seems. I didn’t think much of it really; Anna was just a touchy person. That was how she talked to people, and I was well aware of it.

I glanced down at her hand, which she moved a little to let me know she realized it was there. My eyes also registered the fact she wasn’t wearing much under her shirt, as her bare leg kept going as it crossed underneath her body.

Anna was hardly self-conscious and could be pretty casual around the apartment. She would often take advantage of having a roommate she knew had seen her in all her glory, and would forget certain civilities she’d typically have in place for anyone else. In the mornings she knew it was just us, a couple of good friends who could hang out in whatever they happened to be comfortable in.

“I’ll need to grab some new strings and fix my car if I’m going to play with them this weekend,” I said, trying to keep my eyes to myself.

Working at the warehouse store was like an intense exercise every day, so my blood was warmed and my skin was sensitive to every input. The strange combination of her soft hand on my thigh and the sight of her smooth bare legs started getting to me.

“Where are you going then?” Anna asked, completely unaware of my racing mind, “to play I mean.”

“He lives on campus,” I half gulped, “just down from fraternity row. They soundproofed the walls in the basement so we should be able to get pretty loud.”

She rolled her eyes at that one. Anna wasn’t a fan of rock music, and constantly mocked my tastes. Not that I didn’t give it right back. Our little conversations always gave us gentle reminders of why we were just friends, and never fared well as a couple.

She finally withdrew her hand and crossed her arms next to me and looked at the TV.

“The breakfast should be just about done,” Anna said with a hint of pride to her voice, “I sure hope you’re hungry…”

I looked down at myself and shuddered at how much dirtier I got with all the sweating and lifting we did at work. I was amazed again at the stunning contrast of Anna’s clean shirt and smooth legs right up next to my grunginess. Glancing down, I noticed something else.

Once Anna had folded her arms, the lowest edge of her shirt rode up and I could see more of her hip, like, all of it, and it was completely bare! Now I had to wonder if she was sitting next to me without anything on under there. The thought really got to me because, even for her, that was a little much.

She kept talking but I stopped listening. My jeans were getting tight and I felt my throat drying up. I knew I’d seen it all from her a thousand times, but there was something about the morning sun and my sore muscles that made it that much more sensual.

I was sure she thought nothing of it. I mean, I know she was well aware she was sitting next to me in just a T-shirt, but to her it didn’t mean anything. Anna was just padding around our place like it was home.

I felt bad for noticing and thinking it was sexy of her to sit around with no underwear on. My girlfriend Minji was gorgeous, but definitely not as open about her assets as Anna had always been. I started to smile on the inside, thinking I was pretty lucky to have such a carefree spirit for a roommate, and one who even cooked breakfast.

The timer rang over the oven, to which she placed her hand on my thigh again to boost herself up. I followed her with my eyes, and the shirt fell quickly into place, covering everything I thought I had seen.

I tried desperately to get her near-nakedness out of my head by staring at the television, but I couldn’t do it. I was feeling strange and inappropriate, wanting to hit the shower to get my mind off of her, but it was too late.

“Oh, you’re going to like this,” Anna sang from the kitchen. “Come take a look!”

I hopped up easily, like one does after an extensive workout, and strode into the kitchen. I felt ten feet tall as I stood next to her petite form, she waved her hand over the shallow pan of molten food, wafting enchanting smells in my direction.

There was definitely bacon, eggs, maybe some hash browns and something else I couldn’t quite place buried in that dish of pure succulence. It was a breakfast buffet in a single pan, I was so hungry I could have kissed her for joy.

Anna put a couple cooling stands on the kitchen table and leaned over to set down the steaming pan. As she did, the neck of her shirt dropped silently away and my eyes wandered in without thinking. Sure enough, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of god damn clothing under there, her breasts hung naked off her chest, and a little tuft of curly fur was peeking up just beyond them, barely visible from deep inside that damn teasing shirt.

It was gone in a flash as she straightened and turned toward the oven, but man, my heart was racing.

My fingers shook as I picked up a spatula and started cutting sections from the dish as Anna brought us some clean plates and forks.

“Wow this smells insane,” I honestly groaned in admiration of her cooking prowess, while simultaneously trying to keep my mind off some of her other admirable qualities.

“Thanks!” she beamed as she sat down across from me, watching as I dished us both a plate, “you know how to make a girl feel appreciated.”

She stared at my hands as I pulled the succulent concoction from the pan. The mystery ingredient was definitely cheese, and it stretched from the pan to the plate like a rubbery web.

I pushed a piping plateful across the table to her and began a sizeable portion for myself. Once my plate was towering with food, Anna smiled a satisfied grin and took her first bite. I knew she liked it when I filled my plate; it meant I was really looking forward to her homemade cooking.

I sat down and started immediately digging in.

“Mmmm, this is incrwdbw!” I mumbled across a mouth full of delicious food just before I swallowed. “Where did you learn to make this?” I asked, pulling another heaping forkful into my ravenous maw.

“Mom used to feed everyone before swing choir practice,” she said as she swallowed a more human-sized bite. “We’d all meet around six and eat this same breakfast dish before heading out in the morning.”

“Sounds like a good memory,” I said honestly, wiping some cheese from my chin with a napkin.

“A great memory, actually,” she beamed, half in remembrance and half proud of recreating another one of her mother’s fine dishes.

“She really knew how to cook, didn’t she?” I asked, poised to down another fork full of deliciousness.

“She was the best,” Anna replied with a positive light to her voice, “I’m so happy I get to cook for us every once in a while. Minho doesn’t really appreciate it that much.”

Anna’s boyfriend was an okay guy and he was actually a decent looking guy. He would come to our place only on rare occasions. Since Anna worked near where he works, they would often stay out, and as a result I rarely saw them together. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable coming over with me around, or maybe they just enjoyed going out all the time.

“You know he can come over any time,” I said, swallowing another mouthful of nourishment, “I’m happy to find other places to keep myself amused if you need some time together here.”

“I know, and you’ve always been great about that,” she said, “he’s just never keen on the idea of coming over. He never says why… or at least he has a good reason every time it comes up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up,” I tried to change the subject, “I for one — count myself lucky to be the primary recipient of your fantabulous cheffery!” Anna chuckled at that and we made small talk as we ate, drinking coffee as we did.

After we finished, I rose with my empty plate and contemplated filling it again; I felt like I could eat forever. I left it alone though and grabbed the pan, bringing it to the counter to cool before packing it away.

“Thank you for cleaning up,” she said over her cup of coffee. I turned to look, and from the side her shirt had pulled up casually around her waist again, like a T-shirt normally does. The way it was sitting on her legs made it very apparent she was indeed bottomless, sitting there with her bare butt right on the chair. She wasn’t looking at me, just sipping at her coffee and staring ahead.

I wanted to capture that moment, as it was pretty dirty in my own head. I knew she appreciated my tact about her casual demeanour, so I played it off as if it were the most normal meal we’d ever shared.

-

We definitely shared a lot over the years, and as we got older, our tastes drifted and our goals and dreams became canyons apart. Even though I always had a soft spot in my heart for Anna, I knew it would never work out for us in the long run.

She loved action and change, moving with the pace of the world. Nothing stayed in her mind’s eye for very long before she was off to the next shiny thing. She had always been that way, and it drove me crazy.

Me on the other hand, could rarely find something that even sparked my interest, but once I did, I’d dive into it head first. I loved to read, exploring ideas and subjects thoroughly when I found something fascinating. Anna was one of those fascinating subjects — once, and I knew everything about her. What her favorite musical number was, or who her favorite authors were.

We both realized we would never work together, but I had also been her go-to for sex between relationships as well. I rarely had a steady girl during those times, but I always welcomed her into my bed when a friendly visit turned intimate.

Sex with Anna always seemed to begin as a subtle game during our relationship and afterward. For example, she would stop by to discuss something ‘important’; then eventually she would have to show me the new bra she had purchased, or something just as signaling. She would casually lift her shirt to show off her bulging cups, and I would softly touch along their surface, appreciating the fine ‘quality of fabric’.

“It feels like it’d be very comfortable in there,” I would say, “the material is so smooth.”

“This is definitely the best one I own,” Anna would say, trying to keep on subject, “I mean you can’t even see my nipples through this one.” She would press her finger right there and push in a couple times, rubbing in a small circle where her nipple would be. Then she would drop her hand and wait expectantly for me to see what she meant.

“No, you sure can’t,” I’d say with my finger pressing in, “Are they hard?”

“A little I think,” she’d reply, “I guess I haven’t really tested them that far.”

So then I’d tease her nipple through the soft pad and pinch it a couple times to see if I could put it through the paces. I took my time with it, making sure I was really giving it the old boy scout try, while Anna just sat and watched my fingers press and pinch and squeeze and rub against her encapsulated breast.

“I still don’t see any nipple through there,” I would say after a time, “either this is one sturdy bra, or it’s not even hard.”

“Oh it’s hard,” she would reply, “see?” and with that she would pull her cup down and show me the knotted red nose on the face of her lovely naked breast. I would of course reach up and test it for hardness by tweaking it a little and looking intently while I did.

“Wow, I see what you mean,” I’d say and start to toy with it a little more softly in my fingers. As I concentrated on the bare button, she would pull the other cup down to show me how both her nipples were actually hard. I would pay equal attention to both, tweaking and pinching her stiff buds in appreciation.

When she stopped talking altogether and just breathed under my petting hands, I would slowly lean in and take a sweet nipple into my mouth. I wouldn’t lick it, I wouldn’t suck on it, I’d just leave her tender tip inside my mouth as I caressed the soft sexy skin around it with my hands.

At this point Anna would reach back and undo her bra completely, making some excuse for it like, “it even releases nicely without snapping back.” Not even she cared about that.

“Mmmm,” is all I would say around her wet nipple, sucking as much of her naked tit into my mouth as I could possibly fit.

At that point we were definitely going to be having sex, and very quickly she would just pull me up for a long sensuous kiss while we worked on shedding our clothes.

Sex with Anna was always fantastic, and I think she liked having it as often as any man. Her tastes were a little risqué, but not overly kinky. She liked to play games in the bedroom, and I always found it to be highly stimulating to say the least. She would willingly trade oral favors, and always had an orgasm during our little trysts, sometimes many.

I could continually depend on memories of our encounters to get me erect if I needed something hot to think about on a solitary bout. Having living together with Anna was a constant reminder of these times for sure, but we had also spent so many periods of being strictly friends with zero benefits, it was easy to see her as just a great friend as well.

-

I couldn’t help but wonder this morning whether she was just being extremely casual or if she was seeing what I would do if she let it hang out a little in front of me. Probably the former; it was more than likely I was just worked up.

“Okay, now I really need to take a shower,” I said.

“Yes you do,” she said, “I haven’t seen you looking that dirty in a long time.” She sipped her coffee while looking me in the eye and winked.

Now she was toying with me. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid, like saying what came out of my mouth next…

“Yeah, I keep forgetting how dirty you’ve seen me get,” I said as I walked out of the kitchen and headed down the hall. I knew for a fact I would get a snappy reply, and her predictable nature shone through like a beacon as I heard her call after me.

“I seem to recall you having a thing for getting pretty dirty for a while there.”

“You know me well Anna!” I called back as I closed my bedroom door firmly. I chuckled to myself. I really liked the playful banter we always shared. Too bad it always had to end up in some kind of crazy dramatic bullshit whenever we got together.

I put on some music and started to peel the thin layers of grimy work clothes off my body. It felt so good to be free of them after a long sweaty morning of lifting dirty boxes. I grabbed a clean towel from the dresser and headed out to the bathroom.

I hurried past Anna’s room in my underwear, as I noticed she was back in there again. She was across the room digging through a pile of clothes on her closet floor. She was bent at the waist with her feet apart, and as I walked by, I swear I saw her full naked butt sticking out.

I stopped dead in my tracks past her door and leaned my head back to see around the frame again.

Whoa… that was intense! Her creamy calves and thighs were full length on display as her shirt was covering none of it. I could almost see her lips between her bare ass cheeks, and as I looked harder, I noticed her shirt had actually slipped to her shoulders, her pale naked breasts hanging free and upside down.

She was clearly searching for something and I dared not linger, staring at my platonic roommate in all her exposed glory. I made my way quickly to the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

Holy shit, that was something else, Again I knew I had seen this girl a thousand ways, but that wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t get the image out of my head.

I climbed in and started the water running. The vision of Anna bent at the waist was burned in my mind, and I started getting hard; very, very hard. I wanted badly to take care of it right away, but I just couldn’t do that with her right across the hall.

It quickly occurred to me that since my bedroom door was closed, it also made a distinct noise when I popped it open. It also occurred to me that even though Anna looked to be very concentrated on her task of digging for clothes, she must have been keenly aware she was basically bent over nude as my door popped open, right?

Is she wanted me to see her like that? She might have even set it up to be in that compromising position as I walked by, hoping, no… knowing I would catch her.

It wasn’t looking good for me. I knew how weak willed I got around women, and so did she. What I wasn’t sure of was whether she was just playing or if she was seriously trying to get with me.

I thought about it while I showered and came up with a quick idea to find out.

-

“Hey An, can I borrow you for a second?” I called out from the running shower.

I heard the door open and saw a blurry head through the smoked glass door appear. “What is it? I’m trying to get my laundry together,” she told me.

“Well, you don’t have to do this, but I could use a little help.”

She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

“Okay, well what is it?” Anna said simply.

“It’s kind of weird. I totally wouldn’t ask if I could think of anything else,”

“You can ask me anything, I don’t mind. Do you need help with your hard-on or something,” she teased.

“Ha, you wish!” I teased back, “I just need you to scrub my back really hard with this loofa. After working out so much in the dense heat every day, my back is drying up and it’s driving me crazy. I have no way to get to it. I know it’s weird and all, and you can wait until I’m out of the shower if you want.”

“Don’t be dumb,” she replied, “You need some good soap and probably an exfoliating scrub for that. Hold on.”

I listened intently as she started digging around in one of the overflowing drawers of her beauty supplies.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed.

“I told you I need my exfoliating scrub,” she replied.

“I don’t need any of your lady potions, I just need a good chunk of tree bark or something.”

“Ha ha Mr. Funny Guy,” she snorted, “this isn’t a potion, it’s a scrub that’s full of emulsifiers for removing dead skin.”

“What the hell is even emulsifier?”

“Jeez, it’s like liquid soap with sand in it. It’ll really scrape at your back,” she said in a huff.

“Oh, that sounds okay,” I said, “Should I just sit on the edge so you can foliate my back?”

“Ex-foliate.”

“Whatever.”

I turned off the water and cautiously slid the door open. Anna was standing there with a shiny white tube of something in her hand. She waved it at me and gave me a “Well?” look. I opened the door wider and kept my body behind the protective cover of the glass, laying a wash cloth over the sharp door track.

“Good idea,” Anna said, “hand me your loofa.”

I reached my hand out with the spongy ball, and then turned around and sat on the edge of the tub with my back facing out.

“Wow, you really do need this don’t you? Poor guy,” she said as she inspected my exposed back with her light touch. She dragged her fingers up and down my rough and peeling skin, which had honestly been driving me insane.

“You aren’t going to be looking at anything else are you,” I asked with a wry twist.

“Just your back,” she quipped at me, “and anything else you might leave hanging out.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” I shot back.

I heard the sink turn on behind me and the water splashing around. Then Anna returned with a wet loofa dripping down my back.

“Let me get some of this on you first,” she said, completely business-like.

I felt the first squeeze of cream drip out onto my upper back and then she spread it around, working its way down to my lower back. It was thick and felt like peanut butter.

“There, that should be plenty, now this might hurt a little,” she warned and started dragging the scratchy cream around on my back, starting between my shoulders. It was very abrasive, and the way she moved the loofa I could tell she was adept at using this type of product effectively on dry skin.

At one point I felt a hand resting on my lower back while the loofa in her other hand worked its magic.

“How’s that, does it hurt?” Anna asked.

“Not really, but I can definitely tell it’s working,” I said, trying to keep my balance on the edge of the tub.

“Well, this should really peel that junk off of there for you,” she added putting her back into it.

“Thanks for doing this,” I said.

“Oh please,” she said as she pushed downward using two hands now, “It’s nothing, now lean forward a little.”

I leaned over and felt her hands rubbing the lotion around on my back without the loofa now.

“This should sit for a minute before we scrub it out,” she mentioned, and then she chirped, “Oh shit!”

“What?”

“I got it all over my shirt,” she said.

“Well rinse it out,” I suggested.

“No, I’d have to take my shirt off,” she feigned, “and I would be topless.”

“Why, aren’t you wearing a bra?” I slyly asked.

“Well, if you must know… I’m not.”

“What!? Well, I don’t think you should be in here like that. In fact, maybe you should just leave; I’ll take care of it.”

“Please, like I’m that much of a prude I wouldn’t pull my boobs out in front of you,” she proudly stated, “There’s nothing here you haven’t seen before.”

“True. Go ahead then, I don’t mind.”

“Well, there’s something else,” she muttered.

“There is?”

“Yes...”

“Well?”

“I’m actually only wearing this shirt,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What!? So you’re naked under there?”

“It’s just that I’m out of clean everything and I’m getting ready to do the laundry just now,” she quickly explained.

“Well, I guess that is a little much,” I resolved, “that’s okay An, I’ll take it from here.”

“What if you promised not to look,” she suggested.

“I could do that, I guess,” I said, “This is just between us then? I wouldn’t want your boyfriend getting all pissed that his girlfriend was giving me a naked back scrub.”

“Please,” she retorted, “He gets hugs and shoulder rubs and who knows what else from the groupies that are always climbing all over him. I wouldn’t care if he did find out. What about M-i-n-j-i?” she sang her name out like a child.

“Minji is Minji I guess. I’m not sure what’s going on there,” I revealed honestly, “I mean I’ve been giving it a try, but I’m not really expecting much.” While I was talking, I heard what sounded like a piece of clothing coming off.

“An?”

“What.”

“Are you naked?”

“Yes~,” she replied with a familiar hint of playfulness to her voice, “now don’t get all excited, this is strictly business and just between friends.”

Yeah right. I knew better, and her dander was definitely up at this turn of events. I stayed leaned over looking at my feet in the tub while I heard her rinsing out her shirt in the sink. When she was done, she came back and rubbed her hands into the lotion on my back.

“Oh, that’s definitely working, just a little more,” she said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “So not expecting much huh? That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I know, and it seemed so good at first,” I said, trying to keep my mind away from the fact that Anna was standing behind me, completely nude.

“I could tell she was no good for you...” she stopped, quickly correcting herself, “I mean — what I meant was, she doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

I could feel her leaning a little closer, with her hand still on my shoulder. Something, a bare hip perhaps was up against my back. She started rubbing my shoulder and stammering on.

“You need someone who will be there for you a hundred percent,” she was absentmindedly stroking my neck now. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’ve already moved on, in your head at least.”

“That could be,” I agreed, “I’m just never sure in these situations. I just seem to get caught up for too long.”

She let go of my shoulder and moved back to the sink to add some water to the loofa. When she came back, I felt the water dripping down my back and onto the washcloth under.

“I know you do,” Anna said as she started scrubbing my back again with both hands, “You seem to be unable to have an uncomfortable conversation when you need to. You just have to level with Minji about where the relationship is going; seriously.”

Her vertical scrubbing turned into quick swirling circles on my back.

“I know, there’s just never a good time,” I confessed, “we’re always around other people. When we’re finally alone I’m too exhausted from having been up so early that I have just enough energy to, well…”

“Have sex?” she blurted out, “I know what you do, I can hear you two going at it in there.” One of her hands left the loofa and rubbed my bare skin on its own while she continued to drag this out. My back was clearly exfoliated by now.

“You can?” I asked, “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, “We’re roommates, that how it goes sometimes. Just turn up your music a little louder next time.”

My face burned and I chuckled, “Okay, I’ll try to remember.”

Then Anna was done with my back and said, “That should do it. Now stand up while I rinse this out. I need soap in here next to get that scrub off.”

She turned to the sink behind her and I took that opportunity to get my naked body behind the screen. My erection wasn’t full or anything, but I still wanted to keep this game going. It was kind of fun to see how far we could push it.

“Okay, you’re going to have to rinse this,” she said, “The sink isn’t getting the lotion out.”

I turned the water back on and put my hand outside the door for the loofa. She placed it in my hand and I could see the cloudy silhouette of her naked body behind the glass. I ran the loofa under the stream of water and turned the dial head to massage. That was working, but also spraying water out the open sliding door.

“Hey!” she started, “You’re getting me all wet out here.”

“Sorry,” I said over the sound of the water as I finished.

“Now put some body wash on there and hand it back,” she said.

I squirted a good amount of wash onto the loofa and worked it into a frothy lather. I held it in front of the open door, but inside the shower.

“Perfect,” Anna said grabbing the soapy implement from my hand, “Now back over to me so I can reach.”

Tentatively I turned to face away from the door and backed over to it, knowing full well that she could see my naked butt as plain as day now. I decided to stay a bit into the shower so she would need to reach for it.

She quickly began to soap up my back and remove the thick lotion without saying a word.

“Ah,” she said frustrated, “the water’s spraying all over the floor, back up would you?”

I took a step back to the door and then she started really soaping up my entire back. It felt so good and she was so gentle. Her soft hands roamed all over my back and started getting most of my sides and then easing gently down my back. Shivers ran up my arms. The smooth soapy strokes were getting to me and I could feel myself getting harder underneath the spray of the showerhead.

She soaped my back and set both hands on my hips for a moment.

“Are you finished back there,” I asked, seemingly impatient, “I’m standing here naked you know.”

“So am I,” she came back, “in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten” I replied, “I am well aware that we’re both totally naked in here now. Can I rinse off?”

“Yep, all done,” she said handing the loofa around my waist, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I said, turning to the side to rinse off my back, showing clearly the erection she had caused with her soapy lathering.

“Whoa!” she announced, “you’ve got a hard-on!”

“No kidding, you were really soaping me up back there,” I said through the water spray with my eyes closed. I knew if I stood in the spray, it would allow her plenty of time to get a good look at my mostly erect cock.

“Oh, uh sorry about that,” she said, still lingering naked in front of the open door to the shower, “I didn’t realize it was having that… effect.”

“That’s okay, I’ll just take care of it myself once you’re gone. Thanks again!”

“Ew, all over the shower?” she acted very offended.

“No, not all over the shower,” I retorted from under the spray, “I just cum in my hands, and then I run it through my hair for extra lotion.”

“Yeah right,” she said, knowing I was teasing her, “I don’t think so.”

I peered quickly over at her and her eyes were glued to my cock, making it swell even more. Her eyes widened slightly. I peeked at her shapely breasts and bushy cleft through my watery squinted eyes. That wasn’t helping.

“So, tell me something An,” I said in a conversational tone.

“What?”

“Why are you checking out my cock?” I asked, looking her right in the eye.

“What?” she caught herself and stammered, “I wasn’t checking it out, I mean I didn’t mean to look, I was just… well you were standing there and I…”

“Haha, it’s okay,” I smiled and let my eyes wander unapologetically over her entire bare body. “I kind of like it. I mean, you’ve seen it all before too.”

“O-of course,” she said diverting her eyes and turning quickly to the face the sink. She caught my gaze again in the mirror however, and I let her see me look down to admire her naked ass in front of me.

“I know we’re playing with fire here,” I continued, “and I didn’t mean for it to get all weird. I just want you to know something.”

She turned back around to face me; I think her nipples were as tight as I’d ever seen them. “What?”

“This remains just between us, right?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied, “what is it?”

“I want you to know that you can look whenever you want to,” I said seriously, ‘Any time we’re alone and you want to see, just let me know.’ At that I turned to face her, my hard cock standing straight out in front of me. “Is that too much for you?”

“W-what?” she stammered off-guardedly, glancing from my eyes to my cock and back. I definitely got her at her own game, if she had been playing one anyway.

“I mean it,” I continued, “You just say, ‘let me see it’, and it’s out; just like this,” I said looking down. She looked at my wet cock again and there was a faint grinding of gears going on in her head. She looked up quickly.

“Okay, that’s just weird,” she said as she snapped out of it, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m going now, and leaving you with your hard-on, to do… whatever. Jeez!”

With that she grabbed her T-shirt from the sink and opened the bathroom door, stomping out of the steamy room.

I smiled wide to myself as I knew I got her, and also that she would absolutely bring it up again. That was the game, and she wouldn’t be able to let it go. Her mind would busily work on a plan for whatever reason. There was never any logic to her mind games, which is why our relationship never worked. I was too logical, and her little games only worked with me in the bedroom.

I finished washing up and didn’t feel the need to jerk myself off, I was too proud of my work. I dried off and strolled naked out of the bathroom with my towel over my shoulder to my room. Anna was nowhere to be seen, so I just closed the door and got dressed for the day.

-

I hadn’t seen Anna again that morning, and I assumed she was doing laundry as a way of avoiding me. I created an awkward rift between us and I knew it. I was okay with that, because I also knew she was very good at confronting an awkward situation once she knew how she would handle it. I couldn’t imagine what she’d come up with, but I did know she would escalate things rather than downplay them. What I didn’t know was why I even wanted that.

I headed out with my six-string in hand to the guitar shop and then to Jimin’s house to play some music, drink some beers and see where the weekend took us. I ended up having a great time with the guys, and crashed on their couch overnight on Friday. We played music all day on Saturday and got pretty loaded Saturday night. Having no desire to wake up in the same clothes again on Sunday, I grabbed a cab and made my way home.

I unlocked the apartment door to the sound of music and the smell of lemons. I knew immediately Anna was home and in cleaning mode. This was common on a Saturday night, as Minho would be working until about 1:00am.

I stumbled in feeling fairly inebriated and set my guitar case by the door.

“Hi,” I heard Anna call from the kitchen, “how was Jimin’s?”

“Hey,” I replied, rounding the corner to see her scrubbing the kitchen sink in her typical cleaning overalls and a hot pink T-shirt. “It was cool; those guys really know how to play. Who knew my classical training would actually come in handy one day?”

Anna was looking back at me occasionally over her shoulder while she continued to scrub. She dropped her sponge after a minute and rinsed her hands in the sink as I continued.

“In fact, I think we found a great style, combining Jimin’s technical drumming with my heavy riff… riffing… making, ness…”

“You’re drunk,” she said with a sly smirk as she looked me over, noticing the obvious impairment of my mental and motor skills.

“True,” I said, knowing she was well aware I would often stumble in as such on a Saturday night while she cleaned. It was getting to be a bit of a ritual. “What do we have to eat?”

She wiped her wet hands on a towel and opened the fridge, leaning inside. I liked her work overalls because they had holes in places that allowed me to see bits of skin peeking out. Even though it was mostly leg, there was something about it I found intriguing.

“I suppose you could make a sandwich,” she said, digging around in one of the drawers, “we have everything you need.”

A sandwich sounded perfect in my current state, and I walked up behind her and peered into the fridge over her shoulder.

“That shounds great,” I sort of slurred out, realizing I did as soon as it came out.

“Jeez you’re wasted,” she said as she stood up and turned to face me. Her nose came to about my chin as I looked down at her. I knew she had no sense of personal space, so her close proximity didn’t faze me as she looked up.

“I know,” I said, “I’m so ashamed.” I put my head down in mock despair.

“Yeah right,” she said with a gleam in her eye. I knew she loved having a position of power in a situation; and with me on the cusp of being actually drunk, she knew she could have fun with me. “Make your sandwich,” she said reaching up and tapping a row of dainty fingers against my cheek.

She stepped aside and picked up her cleaning gear again as I reached in and started gathering ingredients. I filled my arms, which in my current state was a struggle, and I thought I had it under control until a squeezable jar of mayo slipped from the bottom and crashed to the clean floor.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I brought the rest of the foodstuff to the adjacent counter, stepping over the bottle.

“You fool,” Anna said as she came back by me to retrieve the fallen condiment from her freshly cleaned floor. “You’re lucky it didn’t break. Here.” She handed me the bottle and I thanked her sheepishly as I turned in my daze to fabricate of some semblance of a sandwich. I could feel her eyeing my every move, watching to see if I’d even be able to build one in my stupor.

“You better let me do it,” she said as she saw me struggling just to get the twist tie off of the bread bag. “I can’t even imagine what you’d end up with if I let you go wild in my clean kitchen with all this stuff.”

She held out her hand and I placed the bread in it, stepping to one side to watch her easily pull out a couple slices.

“Thanks An,” I said, blushing at my inability to function at simple tasks.

“That’s okay…” she said, “I don’t mind taking a break from cleaning our kitchen to make you a sandwich. Let’s just say you owe me one.”

“Of course, I’ll clean the next time,” I offered as a way to make myself useful sometime in the future. It was all I had.

“I like cleaning,” she replied, spreading the mayo across the face of the crusty white bread, “what else you got?”

I couldn’t really think straight, so I just went with, “I dunno, what do you want?”

She was silent for a moment, and then softly said, “Let me see it.”

“Huh?”

“Let me see it, you know,” she looked up into my eyes and then down to the front of my jeans. “You told me to just say the word, and now I am. Let me see it.”

I couldn’t believe she was using this night to get back at me so quickly. She had me mentally on my heels and I could hardly form a complete sentence. I must have looked like a deer caught in her headlights because she set the knife on the counter and turned right toward me, putting her hands on her hips.

“I mean it,” she said with the mischievous gleam she’d often get in her eyes, “Let me see it and I’ll finish your sandwich. You’re the one who put it out there, and I know you weren’t drunk when you said it. Let me see it.”

I was caught in my own web. I had been trying to get her to flinch in the bathroom the day before, and it worked. I really didn’t expect her to come back at me with my own teasing game and call me out in the kitchen the first chance she got.

She stared at me.

Fortunately, my inhibitions were down from the beers so I shrugged my shoulders and reached for my zipper. Anna’s eyes were on my hands, her raised eyebrows framing an expectant look as if she was waiting for me to get out money I owed her.

My pants were undone and my boxers were all that remained between her keen eyes and my naked cock. I knew I couldn’t get out of showing her, and it was a little different than when I did it in the bathroom. In there she was naked as well, and I had a hard-on which helped me to look more… notable. Now it was just my drunken cock on its own, for whatever end.

“Well?” she said, “I know you don’t need help here, Let’s see it.” She knew she had me, and I knew it too. I pulled the front of my boxers down and there it was. I wasn’t completely flaccid, thankfully, and my cock emerged as Anna’s eyes widened.

“Ah, there it is,” she said as she stood and stared at my stuff for few long seconds. “I have to admit, I thought you were full of shit yesterday, but you did it.” She pulled her eyes away, turned, and just continued with my sandwich. I stood there with my right thumb pulling my boxers down and my cock out for no real reason. I figured I did what I said I would, so I covered back up.

Anna started piling on cold cuts and said, “Minho is working extra late for whatever the thing they’re doing, so I’m hanging here tonight, is that cool?” Her eyes were on the sandwich.

“Sounds good to me,” I managed, zipping up my fly. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be of much company but we can hang out if you want.”

“Either way, I’m going to finish cleaning before I do anything,” she said as she folded the bread over, finishing the sandwich. “Here you go.”

She turned and handed me the plate with the scrumptious looking sustenance atop it. I took it from her and she kept my gaze.

“Thank you for showing me,” she said politely, “you have a very nice cock.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” I started, not sure what to say, and off my game completely, “any time.”

Any time? Did I just say that? I took my sandwich and sat down to eat while Anna continued tidying up in the kitchen. I watched her ass stretch against the thin overalls as she bent over to clean the cupboard doors under the counter. I was admiring the bits of thigh peeking out as always and my brain seemed to be fixated on her body as I ate.

She looked back, seeming to catch me staring at her and asked “How is it?”

“How is what?”

“The sandwich dummy,” she chuckled, “what did you think I meant?”

“Fantastic!” I blurted out, steamrolling right over her question, “I’ve never tasted anything so good.”

She smiled knowingly at me and turned around again to finish her work.

Eventually I finished eating and Anna had cleaned her way into the next room. I put my plate in the dishwasher and wandered into the living room where Anna was dusting. I stood there wondering if should sit; I couldn’t very well help, and she seemed to sense this and looked at me.

“Are you going to watch something?” she asked, carefully wiping the top of a lamp with a dirty cloth.

“I’m not sure,” I said, slightly swaying in place. “I feel like I should be helping.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, “You would do more harm than good. Besides, I like cleaning. It’s my Zen time, and you don’t have to feel guilty about letting me do it. Why don’t you go get comfortable and I’ll be done in here in a minute.”

It was a great suggestion and I nodded, turning my heel and making my way down the narrow corridor to my room. As I passed Anna’s room, I noticed that there was a pair of her panties on the floor right inside the door. This was quite typical, as oddly enough her bedroom always seemed to be the messiest room in the house, but it caused my mind to flash back to the image of her bending over and digging through her laundry. I started getting aroused again, and moved quickly into my room to escape the reminder.

Knowing Anna was busy, I didn’t close the door and just unbuttoned my shirt and pants, looking for my sweat shorts. I couldn’t find them so I just grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on. She had already seen my dick tonight; I should be fine in my boxers I figured.

I wandered back out and Anna was just finishing her dusting and putting away her things. She looked up at me, gave me a once over, and said, “Perfect, I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that she hoisted her cleaning products carrier up and made her way to the kitchen closet to tuck it away. I sat on the couch and found the remote on the gleaming coffee table. I was pretty lucky to actually live with someone who enjoyed cooking and cleaning. I would never ask her to do any of these things of course, being perfectly capable myself… well, sober anyway.

She walked past and down the hall to her room, and I flipped through the channel guide to see what was on. I found some documentary, and put it on to be funny, although it turned out to be quite interesting.

When Anna came out, she still wore the same pink shirt with short socks, and I couldn’t tell what else. It was probably either just her underwear or nothing again, as all I could see was leg to the hem of the long shirt which came to about mid-thigh.

“What the hell are you watching?” she said, sitting on the couch near me but comfortably distant. I was happy for the space as my cock started to harden as I pictured her naked again and smelled her sweet perfume settling over me.

“Just a documentary,” I said, trying not to stare at her bare legs. She reached over and flipped off the main lamp, and the TV lit up the darkened room.

“Give me that,” she said, holding out her hand. I handed her the remote with a smile, and her eyes met mine. They had a hint of mischief to them and she glanced down to my boxers. I looked down to see they were starting to tent and leaving little to the imagination.

I looked back up and she was already aiming the remote at the cable box and flipping through the channels. After a minute she finally stopped on an old movie and said, “Oh, here we go. Let me see it.”

“Sure, we can watch this,” I said, and then, “wait, what?”

“You heard me,” she said looking me in the eye as she set down the remote. “You said any time. Let me see it.” The look in her eyes was challenging.

I knew right then that I was paying dearly for my mistaken cockiness in the bathroom. I really didn’t think she would even take me up on my teasing offer, let alone rub my nose in it.

“Fine,” I gave in, having little resolve left anyway. I found the open front of my boxers and reached in, finding my naked cock in a semi-erect state. I pulled it through the opening and lay it out in my lap for her to see. “How’s that?”

“Very nice,” she said, eyeing up my growing cock. I was getting more aroused than I had hoped. “You seem to be kind of excited.”

I looked at my bulging cock, “It would seem so. Have you seen it now?”

“I don’t know,” she said with the sly and teasing tone I knew so well. “You could put him away, but I’ll probably just ask you again, so why don’t you just leave him out for a while to save us the trouble?”

Now she was playing with fire. She wanted to me just sit there and watch TV with her, my bare cock lying out the whole time!

“Are you serious right now?” I asked incredulously.

“Dead serious,” she looked me in the eye with a challenging stare.

“I’ll take my chances,” I muscled up my last remaining nerve and tucked my member back inside my shorts.

“Fine by me,” she said and looked back at the screen. We sat there for a while as the movie played, and honestly, I couldn’t have cared a wit about it. It was some black and white romance thing from the 50’s, and I just never got those. I watched it though, waiting nervously for what I knew was sure to come.

“I’ll let you change the channel if you show me again,” she said out of the blue after about ten minutes. I couldn’t believe she was being so bold, and I was the one who had opened this door, all because I saw her bent over with her ass sticking out.

“Jesus An, what’s with you tonight?” I had to ask.

“Show me, I don’t need to explain myself. If I want to see your cock you have to show me, so let’s see it.”

I was in deep shit now, and I could only respond by lifting my ass up and sliding my boxers down my hips and to my ankles. “There, happy?” I retorted as she openly turned to stare at my nude lower half.

“I guess,” she said simply. “Nice cock. Do you still stand behind what you said in the bathroom?”

Thanks to the sandwich I was able to think about that one. It was a little thrilling to be sitting there with my cock out around her. I knew that neither of us could breathe a word of this to anyone, but we were also adults. “I do.”

“I’m glad,” she said and handed me the remote, glancing down to my cock again. I took the controller and started to surf channels, stopping on a movie I knew we would both enjoy, and it had just started.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” she said, turning back to the screen. We watched for a few minutes, and then I saw her look at my lap again. She saw me notice and smiled sweetly. She was really getting off having my cock next to her to look at. My bulge had subsided, and I was a little happy for that, but not for long.

She must have noticed too, because she leaned back on the couch and pulled up a knee to her chest, allowing her t-shirt hem to drop down her thigh, exposing nothing but bare skin all the way to her naked ass cheek.

Fuck.

She had been sitting there again with a completely bare ass, and I had only just caught up when I dropped my boxers. The thought traveled instantly to my manhood and I felt it begin to inflate at a furious rate.

The little vixen! I saw her smirk and peek to the side to see if her little show had the intended effect, and of course it did. Now she really let me have it.

“Holy shit, are you getting hard right now??”

Damn you Anna. I pretended not to hear, or that I had no comment, and she continued to push me.

“What’s getting into you? I mean this movie isn’t that exciting, is it?”

“Did you just realize that I’m not wearing anything under here again? Is that it?” she added.

She knew it was. “My god, you’re totally hard, look at you! You really like knowing my pants are off don’t you? You’re so bad!”

“Me?” I finally said, “You were the one wearing almost nothing on Friday morning when I came home, and now?” I should have kept my fool mouth shut.

“Is that it? Is that what this was all about? Did I turn you on running around with just a shirt on in my own place? What were you thinking about my tits while you ate my home cooked breakfast?”

I was a little too annihilated to come up with a coherent response.

“You were!” a look of shock and accusation crossed her face as I looked away. “You can’t hide it! Is that why you called me into the bathroom? Did I get you all worked up?”

“You didn’t have to stay, or take your shirt off you know,” I was able to construct an intelligible sentence out of somewhere. My mind was still aware I was in hot shit.

“You liked that though, didn’t you? Did you get a good look?”

I didn’t want to fight with her sitting there with our pants off, so I tried to turn the tables. “Show me.”

“What!?”

“You heard me. Show me.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to say that. Only I do. That was your idea,” she squinted, her challenging eyes on me.

“I never said it was just for me to say, and it’s only fair. I’ve shown you, and now I’m totally out here. Don’t think you can handle the tension? Come on Anna… just show me.”

A slow and silent resolve crossed her face.

“Fine, just a peek,” was all she said, leaning back and dropping her foot to the floor. From there her legs slowly crept apart, the shirt still covering any view between her legs.

“I can’t see anything.”

She spread her legs wider, one of them touching my own as it moved. Her shirt crept higher until I could just see her curly little hairs and the protruding lips of her… pussy.

“Mmm, good girl,” I murmured in a cocky tone, and Anna instantly snapped her legs together.

I definitely recognized the telltale puffiness between her legs in my momentary glimpse, the shine of the television lighting her up. I’d seen Anna in this highly aroused state so many times. I knew how stimulating everything was to her once the heavy weight of arousal set in.

“Oh, you’re wearing panties,” l said, knowing full well she wasn’t, “I thought you weren’t.”

“I’m not, you dummy,” she said, her playful look telling me everything I needed to know. I sat silent for a minute, waiting patiently for her next move.

Slowly Anna parted her legs again, and the empty space between her bare thighs began to grow. This time she reached down and raised the edge of her shirt, clearly showing me her private fur in the process. She gently tilted her hips so her swollen lips puckered out clearly from underneath again.

“See,” she snorted, with as much of an act as she could muster. I knew her heat was rising. She loved the fact that my naked cock was right next to her and pumped full of steam. I was sure she knew she’d have me pull it out again, even while she was in her room changing. Her pussy was probably already soaking wet while she decided to come out in just a shirt.

Oh you horny little minx.

“Oh my god,” I said softly, ‘you’re serious.’ She let me stare between her legs for a minute, looking down there herself. “Look at that beautiful pussy,” I said, knowing compliments would keep it out a bit longer.

“Don’t get any ideas mister,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her own distended labia.

“Like what?” I asked with a hint of drawing her out in my voice.

“Like whatever ideas your hard-on is having there,” with that she turned her head and stared right at it. I looked at my cock and it was long and quivering with excitement.

“What, this hard-on?” I asked softly, wrapping my fingers around it and slowly pumping it up and down next to her.

Her mouth stopped working for a second as she watched me blatantly holding and stroking my naked cock in the bright glow of light. Her eyes were hooded and she seemed mesmerized by my movements.

Anna just watched in silence with her legs open, until her words finally appeared, “What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer, I just kept looking between her legs and slowly moving my cock up and down my erect shaft in the dim light.

“I can’t help it,” I finally whispered, “I’m too hard.”

She seemed to snap out of it, and slowly pulled her thighs back together until they touched in front of her. Her shirt was still up however, and the curly hairs between her legs formed a little brown shrub in the middle of her deep crevice.

“Well help it,” she said quietly and somewhat begrudgingly.

“Fine,” I said, and slowly backed my hand away. My bare hardness pulsed with anticipation and excitement, lightly swaying of its own accord in my pants less lap. She could hardly force herself to look away, but did so and crossed her legs, folding her arms under her obviously unencumbered breasts. Her pointy nipples were so hard that a mere t-shirt was hardly a challenge for their aggressive prodding.

I knew better than to make any additional comments or take further action, as just my throbbing cock out next to her was surely driving her deeper into her own perverted fantasies. What we were doing was completely wrong, and against everything we swore to when we agreed to be roommates. We hadn’t crossed any physical lines, except maybe for the naked back scrubbing in the shower… shit.

We were already way over the line. Even my own cock knew how close it was to being submerged in the slippery pocket between Anna’s legs.

I had to focus on the screen and forget about the blatant innuendo pulsing in both of our laps. We were horny, that was certain. I should have gotten up and walked away, but the tension was delicious. I loved that we were sitting together, bottomless, unable to act on what we both had in mind.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as the movie played, until…

“God I wish we were single,” I admitted truthfully, but the fact remained… we weren’t.

“Why’s that,” she said with a curt but playful edge to her voice, “do you want to fuck me or something?”

I had to groan at her words, as she knew I loved hearing her say it out loud. I grabbed on my cock again and started squeezing it.

“Stop that,” she commanded.

“I can’t,”

“I just wanted to see it, not watch you fondle it,” she said, uncrossing her arms and pulling the hem of her t-shirt lower on her legs. “If I thought you’d be uncontrollable about this I would have gone to bed.”

“Sorry,” I said, stopping my motions and loosening my grip. The next move, I decided, was hers, and it took a while. After about couple of minutes, she finally looked at my cock again and I watched her eyes tracing it up and down.

“God… that looks so nice.” She said.

“It does?”

“Fuck. Of course it does!” she said as if I was crazy, “why else would I have you keep pulling it out? I miss what we had, a lot. No one else can compare, and for whatever reason sex was always great with us. Why do you think I kept coming back?”

“An easy lay?”

“Okay, that’s true, but it was more than that.”

She turned her body to face me, her arm and shoulder against the back of the couch.

“I always felt like I found my perfect fit with you,” she continued, looking me straight in the eye, “and everyone else gets compared, well… to this!” She gestured toward my protruding cock.

“But even though I would love to feel what we had again, I know it would only make things worse,” she admitted. “I was getting better, forgetting about what we had, but having you around all the time in such a personal environment… well, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea.”

“We both knew our torrid history An,” I said, turning to face her as well and letting my appendage lay where it may, “the odds were never in our favor.”

“I know,” she said, placing her hand on my arm, “and I think I liked it that way. I think I liked fantasizing about you more than I wanted to actually do anything about it, although right now I’m not so sure.”

Her eyes burned into mine with a fiery lust that made me want to push her backwards and let our bodies do what they were fully prepared to do.

“I know what you mean,” I said instead, trying to keep my ever-loving cool.

“Are you saying you fantasized about me!?” she asked with a playful twinkle.

“I don’t think I’ve ever stopped,” I admitted. “I know you too well. We’ve been together too many ways.”

Her eyes darted back and forth between mine. “What do you think about?”

I knew this was trouble. I was inebriated and logic was not my friend, and any fantasy I laid out could surely come back to bite me. Unfortunately, I was too turned on to care.

“Sometimes I think about the time we went to the park,” I revealed, “and how you wore those same overalls as tonight, a t-shirt and nothing else.” Her mouth twisted into a wicked grin.

“You had your hands in my pants the entire day,” she laughed, “I thought they were going to kick us out of there! Then, back in the hotel room, I bet his new girlfriend had no idea the kind of sex filled night she was in for when she agreed to come along.”

I laughed at that. “I tried to be sneaky, but you’re just too loud.”

She blushed and looked down, her gaze settling on my cock again. It was suddenly silent in the room as she stared at it.

“Gosh I want you so bad right now,” she said.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I asked, knowing her twisted mind and the way it worked.

She looked up at me. “Yes.”

“My cock… sliding in… filling that empty space between your legs.”

All of our bedroom games came rushing back. I had forgotten them, forgotten how crazy in lust they made us, but in that instant it all came back.

“You asshole,” she whispered, not even close to being angry. The air was excruciatingly heavy with sexual tension and our breathing started to deepen.

“Take your shirt off,” I said, knowing she would. We both took ours off at the same time and sat together on the couch, the blue glow of the television reflecting across our newly bared skin.

“I love your tits,” I said in honest appreciation of them again, “but you really shouldn’t be showing them to me.”

“You asked for it,” she replied, grabbing a handful of her breast and lifting its weight up to me, her twisted bud aimed right between my eyes. My cock swelled, wishing we would just get it over with already.

“God, I want to taste you so badly right now,” I said, practically drooling down my chin over the sight of her bare breasts.

“You can’t,” she said, staring deep into my soul with her heat filled gaze, “I have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said, turning directly toward her on the couch. We sat face to face, our bodies naked and exposed to each other in the flickering darkness.

“Tell me An… does he eat your pussy? I mean… the way you really like it?”

The heat in the room was insane as my question caused Anna’s legs to slowly part and her free hand to slide lower on her bare body, down to her unfolding sex. I watched her fingers spread her wet lips apart and find her clit, massaging it with slow deliberate circles. I almost bit off my tongue as I watched her touch herself in front of me.

“This pussy?” she teased as my eyes climbed between her legs and tried to get inside for a closer look.

“He tries, but no one really enjoys the taste of me as much as you did. Do you still remember?”

Fuck. Of course, I did. I was practically smelling it again with the heat she was giving off.

“You know how much I love… used to love, your pussy,” I corrected myself, “and I used to keep loving it until you had to push me off, remember?”

Anna moaned out loud this time, her fingers digging harder into her swollen lips, rubbing larger circles between her spreading legs. I looked into her ravenous stare and recognized a raw need.

“You want me to eat your pussy right now, don’t you?” I asked, “You want me to suck your little clit and push my tongue in there. Should I? Should I actually suck you off right here, An? Suck your wet pussy in my mouth until you explode all over our living room?”

We were back to our old games again, and as she leaned back on the couch; her naked body splayed before me with her legs wide open.

“God damn you,” Anna moaned. Her fingers were frantically masturbating her pussy with one hand and tugging a taut nipple with the other. “You’re really turning me on.”

“I can see that,” I said, staring at her blurring hand making swirly finger paintings across her pussy. “You used to like it when I’d watch you masturbate, didn’t you?”

“Fuck.”

“An, we can’t.”

“I know,” Anna groaned, pushing her body backwards to the other end of the couch and sitting up, her hand not exactly done wading through the rushing river between her legs.

“You’re evil, talking to me like that,” she said breathlessly, “your girlfriend probably wouldn’t like you talking about eating my pussy you know.” A smile crept across her face.

“No, she wouldn’t,” The realization of this fact having zero impact on the lust coursing through my body.

“Does she suck your cock,” Anna asked.

“Not like you did,” I admitted. “Your boyfriend must be a pretty lucky guy.”

“He is,” she said with a smirk, “but he definitely doesn’t react as well as you always did to having his dick in my mouth.”

Fuck. I remember how well Anna could keep me raging for hours while she toyed with my dick.

“You always knew how to keep me harder than I ever thought was possible.”

I leaned back and pushed my erection upward, I ran a finger up and down the side of my cock, watching her eyes follow my lazy touch.

“You should really put that away,” she said without a hint of seriousness in her voice as her eyes devoured in it.

“I might be tempted to put it in my mouth. What would your girlfriend say about that? Can she take you all the way like I can? Can she choke on your cock and still keep it buried while you cum down her throat?”

Definitely not. I was practically crying with the memory and realization.

“You better stop talking about sucking my cock,” I said with exasperation as I started stroking it in front of her leering gaze. “I might ask you to do it again, just for old time’s sake.”

I rose to a knee and pointed my dripping rod in her reclined direction.

“I wouldn’t do it,” she said with her hand mashing her pussy around, “I have a boyfriend.”

“So you keep saying,” I responded, “but you haven’t stopped playing with your pussy since you stripped naked in front of me.”

“True,” Anna said, making sure I saw her slowly ease two long fingers deep into herself. I stared in amazement. “Mmmm, god I’m soaked”

I love the way she tortured me.

“I bet you could get your whole cock in here in one… long… push. Would you like that?”

“More than anything,” I admitted, wondering how we had let ourselves get to this point.

“Well keep it together,” she said, pulling her fingers out and sucking them into her mouth one at a time, “we’re roommates now. No fucking.”

“How about sucking?” I asked hopefully.

“No sucking; and definitely no touching. We’re taken!”

“Damn,” I said, sitting back down on the couch and staring at her gorgeous body again. My mind was conflicted. We could probably get ourselves off with some mutual masturbation or something, but I didn’t think either of us wanted to end the night with an embarrassing mess on the couch, having to slink off to our separate rooms. I had to think.

“Okay, how about we cuddle?”

“Nice try, no touching.” Anna said, she seemed adamant all of the sudden.

“What if I just wanted to look?”

“Look all you want,” she replied, “Why? Do you like my body or something?”

“I love your beautiful body,” I said truthfully. “Your legs are smooth, and your hips are perfect.” I started leaning in her direction on the couch, closely inspecting the pale skin of her leg, careful not to touch.

“Easy there,” she warned, “no touching. My boyfriend doesn’t like me to lay with naked men you know.”

“I bet, but I can see why naked men would want to lay with you though. Your thighs are mouthwatering.” I said as I moved my head closer between her legs, my breath warming her inner thigh. “Anna, You smell like a flower,” I said, inching even closer, “and you look like a goddess with your legs open like this.”

As I pushed in closer, I could feel the heat coming from between her legs, and the permeating scent of her undeniable arousal was spinning my mind.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Anna warned, my mouth inching closer to her enchanting pool of liquid honey, “you shouldn’t have your face so close to my ugh… my…”

“Pussy?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not yours,” she said, unconvincingly.

“Not mine to what?”

“Not yours to…”

“Lick?”

“Yes.”

“Suck?”

“You asshole.”

“Not mine to ravish until your body explodes from the soul splitting orgasm, I rip from your dripping wet cunt?”

Her hands flew up and pulled my head forcefully between her legs.

The next thing I knew my face was buried deep between the wide rubbery lips of my Anna’s wet soaking pussy. She couldn’t help herself. I knew for a fact she had to have it, and that I was the one who could give it to her the way she truly needed it. I plunged in face first with abandon.

Instantly she was gasping and writhing on my tongue, whimpering under the insistent pussy eating her body so desperately craved. I pushed a couple fingers inside and fucked her wet hole while I pulled her rigid clit into my mouth. I had forgotten how rapidly her arousal would build. I felt her orgasm coming already, so I pulled my fingers out and wrapped both arms around her thighs, locking my mouth over her twitching sex. And then…

“Anhh fuck…” She came, harder than I ever remembered.

For a good few minutes, she gasped for breath and clutched my head. She shook in convulsions and bucked her jerking pussy into my mouth. For a good few minutes, she came, unleashing every ounce of orgasmic energy she’d stored inside, squeezing the feeling right out of my head.

When it finally subsided, she lay back exhausted. I lifted my reddened face from between her strong thighs and watched her lovely tits heaving up and down.

“Tell me, does your boyfriend do that for you,” I mustered, trying to get a rise out of her again.

“Not... even... close,” she managed with a smile, struggling to drag her body up on the couch.

“Well, I guess you needed it then,” I said, rubbing my hands up between her thighs and back down. I sat back toward the opposite end of the couch to admire her splayed and panting body.

Suddenly, Anna was sitting up and quickly moving my way. I watched as her lips approached mine and hit with a force of passion I hadn’t experienced in forever. Our tongues burst from our mouths and tried to out-wrestle each other. I knew my face was covered in her essence, but that had never stopped her before. We kissed and made out passionately. I felt her hands running up and down my body, and I did the same to hers.

We were naked on our couch, consuming each other’s mouths. I felt her delicate fingers wrapping around cock, and she broke off our kiss, relishing in the tactile feel of it.

“God, I missed this,” she moaned as she started pulling the skin up and down my erection. The feeling was immediate, and I remembered how well she did even that, it was so natural. Anna knew my cock like no one did, and was reminding me of just how well as our hot tongues snaked together, again.

After a few minutes of manual ministrations, she pulled back.

“I hope your girlfriend doesn’t mind I’m sucking your cock tonight,” she lowly whispered as she kept stroking me. Her tongue reached out and licked my upper lip... my cheek... and my ear, her voice whispering through my veins.

“I’m going to suck your cock. I’m going to lick your balls. I’m going to push you so far down my throat that I’m about to cum again just thinking about it.”

I moaned as her tongue pushed into my ear and drove a sensation through my body, I never knew I missed so badly. I was going to cum myself if she kept lusting into my ear like that and milking my throbbing cock in her hand.

“Does she drag her tits all over you the way you like it,” Anna asked in the most seductive voice I ever remembered coming from her.

“Fuck no,” I swore under my breath, feeling the tender touch of her aroused buds tantalizing my bare skin. Up and down her nipples drew lazy lines of lust onto me, dragging across my bare skin. Her milky tits dragged down my chest, and before I knew it my platonic roommate’s hot breath was cascading over my cock.

“Ohh this is going too far. You have a boyfriend.”

Anna shook her head, staring at my pulsing hardness. “You’re the one who pulled it out,” she whispered, “reminding me how I used to like to kiss it.”

With that she lightly pressed her soft lips to the skin of my cock.

“How much I liked to lick it,” to which she dragged her tongue from the base of my twitching cock to the very tip, pushing shivers up my sides.

“How I much I liked to run my mouth along it, like this...”

I groaned as her lips parted and covered the underside of my cock. Anna’s mouth was so soft and tender, and when she stared sliding it up and down my length, I groaned outward into our living room. She slurped her way to the tip and suckled on the head for a minute, keeping me in her mouth as she nursed on it. She worked her way down to my balls, and took one and then the other in her mouth, and started the whole thing again. She wasn’t even sucking me.

Anna sat up a little and looked me in the eye.

“Does she let you cum in her mouth?”

I slowly shook my head, to which she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Would you like to cum in mine?”

I nodded, and slowly brought my hand up to her head and gently pulled it down. She simultaneously lifted my cock upright and wetly engulfed my entire cock into her warm and delicious opening. Her lips slid down my length like a tight ring, and my cock kept sliding in. I remembered how deep her mouth went, how my cock would keep going further than I ever thought possible. In I went, and once I eased past her loosened throat muscles I bottomed out, her lower lip nudging my balls. Oh my fucking god.

It was the most pleasure I’d had in forever, and the building intensity of the night instantly caught up with me. All at once my body flipped a release button and my ejaculating muscles started pumping hard, filling my body with the most intoxicating chemicals nature ever invented. Gush after glorious gush of pent-up seed erupted from the end of my buried cock and into the sweet and bottomless mouth of a naked Anna, right on our couch.

Fuck.

My body shook and shuddered, and she kept her head still, draining every drop of cum that leak from my creamy cock like it was nothing.

After the mind-blowing rush of my orgasm, she slowly pulled off of me, a loud pop and an inhale of breath sounding off like a clap. Her breathing was ragged, but her smile was one of pride. She came back up to me and laid her soft body on top of mine and we kissed again. This was nothing new, and the fresh cum in her mouth was barely noticeable as we shared a passionate embrace.

“What did you just do?” I asked incredulously.

“I sucked your cock,” Anna replied in a hungry whisper, “I swallowed your cum. I got you so horny you shot off in my mouth in like buckets!”

I smiled wide with the most satisfaction I had felt in many months.

“That you did.” I said.

I gently held Anna’s body again as she lay across me, her soft breasts piled on my chest. The round bare cheek beyond the small of her back was a familiar landscape for my fingers to graze.

“What are we doing?” Anna asked quietly, her nose brushing against my cheek.

“Not getting caught?” I ventured, saying what was surely on our minds.

“Yes, but why?” She laid her head next to mine. “Why is it so right between us?”

Her fingers twirled my hair and I felt her breath against my neck. “I am so comfortable here, just like this, with you.”

“We’ve been over it a million times,” I began, “and we just don’t work this well in the real world. We’re polar opposites... who happen to be really awesome in bed.”

“Don’t remind me,” she softly whispered.

We lay with each other in the darkish room, naked across our couch. My mind played movies of all the great times we’d had. Weekends we’d spent locked in a room and fucking our brains out until we were sore. Days we spent apart, resulting in some of the most passionate and aggressive sex I could remember ever having.

We both considered sex a core part of who we were. Finding someone who shared this intense constant desire and who was also compatible for the long run seemed impossible. For a while we were happy to just seek each other out as a distraction from the sometimes-painful real world. Sex was a blanket, and wrapping each other in it was something we both needed, maybe on a deeply emotional level.

My thoughts were bringing back so many memories; vivid, naked, fucking each other memories and I felt my cock start to harden again. She felt the movement and pushed against it.

“You realize we’re probably going to do this, right?” I said.

“I know,” she said, almost inaudibly. “I just want to feel you against me for a while longer.”

Anna wrapped my head in her arm and started softly kissing my neck. Her lips were barely touching my skin, but the connection was immense. I sighed out a long breath of air and squeezed her tightly. The soft, wet tip of her tongue dragged along my neck and traveled slowly upwards to my jawline.

Her every contact point with my body suddenly drove a rush of passion into me, jutting my growing cock between us. She felt my surge and dragged a knee up my stomach and moved the same foot over the edge of the couch. My fingers rounded her smooth cheeks and dove between them, finding the familiar damp pool I was dying to plunge my cock into again.

I rubbed around her pussy as she pushed her thigh against my erection, saying into my neck, “I think I wanted you ever since you asked me to move in.”

I thought about this for a minute, and admitted to myself that my noble intentions were never far from the hidden truth.

“I honestly loved the idea of being able to see you every day,” I said, pushing a long finger into her moist tunnel. “I think having you around was good for my sex life. You reminded me of great sex, and I took that to bed with me.”

“Me too,” Anna said, “and I can’t help loving you like this,” she moaned and started grinding her thigh harder into my cock, her mouth sucking on my neck.

“I still love you An,” I responded, knowing it was the truth, and as painful as it was for all involved, it was the fucking truth.

“I love you too,” she said almost desperately, “I always long for what we had, no matter where we are or who we’re with.”

Her hips started tilting around, grinding on my finger inside of her. I whispered into her ear, “we’re actually going to do it again, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, and I’ve been ready,” she returned into my ear, “I want this. Please, do it before I change my mind. Fuck me,” Her panting was getting intense. “I mean it.” Anna lifted herself up on all fours above me, staring into my longing face. Her beautiful tits were hanging, and I could see my cock sticking up, waiting for the inevitable plunge.

And it was so natural that neither of us looked or aimed or anything. Her hips descended and I felt my cock easing right into Anna’s warm and glorious fit.

It was a mind-blowing instant of sexual interconnectedness and blissful wonder as my cock buried itself as deeply inside Anna’s hollow cunt as it’s ever been. We both exhaled immensely, and in that very instant, we were back.

Her mouth hung open as I bottomed out, and the look on her face was one of pure passion. I’m sure mine was no different as I ran my hands up her thighs and around her back, grabbing that sexy woman as tightly as I could.

We pushed against each other in a frantic connection of sex and lust. It was an idyllic rift in time as our souls became singular again. Neither of us could back away, and we started shifting our lower bodies in subtle circles of intimate connection. My cock was deep, and her pussy captured me so completely that I was content to simply exist inside of her.

Back and forth we ground into the other. I heard her gasp, so I slowly sat us up on the couch. She clung to me like a lost puppy, and her body was shaking from the pleasure.

Then I realized Anna was actually crying, right into my shoulder; tiny little sobs that had me confused and worried.

“Anna? What is it?” I gently asked, pushing back the hair from around her ear and wiping a tear from her cheek.

“You...” she sniffed, “feel so amazing. I just... forgot how intense it really was...”

“I know,” I soothed, “I feel the same way. Let’s just enjoy this as much as we can while we have it again... okay?”

That seemed to cheer her up a little as she nodded her head.

“It’s not over yet,” I breathed, reaching my cock into her and then pulling out a small amount, “far from it.”

Anna smiled and looked right into my eyes, her tear-stained lashes blinking quickly. “I do love you, you know, and I always...” with that she squeezed her inner muscles around my nestled shaft, “always, will!”

“I love you too,” I said and grabbing her butt, “and now we’re going to make this night worth every minute of regret we might face afterwards.”

With that Anna leaned back and onto the couch, pulling me with her and reaching down to grab my ass cheeks and squeeze them.

“So then fuck me already,” she said so matter-of-factly that I had no choice but to pull my cock almost completely free from her warm embrace, and then slam it back home with enough force.

“Oh god… Ahh” she yelled, louder than I ever remember her being, which was saying something.

I put my forehead against hers and locked in my stomach muscles, allowing my hips to start taking long delicious strokes in and out of her body. Every push and pull was luxurious and familiar and daring all at the same time. I knew just how she liked it. I knew what got her body and her mind really excited. She knew the same about me as well, which is why she pulled my face down and pushed her tongue in my ear.

The warm sensation had a direct line to the muscles in control of my blazing erection, and I started to really pump it into her with passion.

Her lusty voice in my wet ear sounded better than I ever remembered, “Oh, yeah, fuck, oh fuck, that’s it, mmmm, that’s it, fuck me, oh shit. Ohhh…” her voice trailed off into grunts of pleasure as she hugged me tighter.

My cock was sliding in and out of her like an oiled piston, and the liquid noises of sex were squelching out into the room. I realized I was quickly building up a new head of orgasmic steam, so I eased back into a more casual pace. Every bit of her scrumptious pussy was sliding across every inch of my solid cock as we connected through long slippery strokes of sex.

Eventually Anna loosened her grip and held me still, stopping our movements but holding my cock deep inside. Her eyes were wild. She was hungry, and right in the middle of a juicy meal.

Anna spoke, softly, “…from behind.”

I smiled as I remembered how she liked it that way. I slipped my wet cock out of her, and backed slightly away. She slid off the couch and put her knees on the floor, bending her naked figure over the cushion.

I admired her bare ass in front of me, again. It was so familiar; so right. A thousand memories came rushing back as I instinctively ran my hands over her naked butt and up her spine as I moved in close.

I bent over her body with my wet cock wedged upright in the crack of her ass cheeks and started whispering in her ear.

“This is how you really like it, isn’t it Anna?”

A slight whimper emerged, and she moved her ass against me in earnest, but I wasn’t about to slip into her just yet.

“Do you remember how far I can reach from back here?”

“You know I do,” she softly replied.

“Tell me something you think about with me around,” I teased, easing back from her ear, and rubbing her shoulders and neck, “something hot.”

“Don’t...” Anna pleaded.

“It’s okay An,” I soothed, “just tell me one thing you fantasized about. It’s only going to turn the heat up.”

A long silence appeared, and I slowly eased the underside of my cock up and down her crevice as I patiently waited for her inevitable reply.

“Fine,” she started, lifting herself up onto her elbows, “Sometimes... I imagine myself cleaning… God this is embarrassing.”

“Just tell me.”

“I-I’m cleaning, and I’m... naked,” she revealed. “And then you come home unexpectedly, maybe you’ve been drinking, and you sit down and just watch me cleaning in the nude. You’re staring at my body and telling me how good of a job I’m doing, how you appreciate how clean I keep our place.”

This was incredible, and now I was logging every word into a fantasy file I could use later as well. I reached around and started toying with one her tight nipples.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she moaned, humping her bare cheeks against me. “I keep looking over and your eyes are always on me, on my body, staring at me. Then, while I’m cleaning a counter, or bent over in some way, you come close and start touching me, softly, even though I ask you to stop. You don’t. You touch my breast, you cup my ass, you stroke my neck; your hands are all over me.”

I groaned to myself and rubbed my hands over her body to match the story, feeling every sensational inch of her bare form under my fingers.

“Oh god, you really know how to play this,” Anna said, and then she continued. “You start asking me why I’m naked, and if I was just trying to get you excited. I would insist that I just liked to clean in the nude in my own apartment, and that I should be able to if I wanted. But inside I knew it would drive you crazy, and that you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

Anna started sliding her bare ass up and down the length of my nestled cock as she continued.

“You would touch me and tell me to keep cleaning. I wouldn’t notice, but at some point, you’d pull out your cock, and I would feel it against me, hard...”

I took that moment to reenact her tale, pushing the head of my cock down between her cheeks.

“I would act shocked and offended, but you’d push into me...”

Which now I did.

“OH god! Just like... that,” she moaned as my cock ran home, “that’s so much better than I imagined!”

My cock slid into her, and I pulled on her shoulders to help get it in deep. I leaned over again and started talking into her ear as I softly began to fuck her from behind.

“Is this what you wanted? Hmm? Parading around in the nude. Did you think I wouldn’t react?”

I kept sliding my cock in and out of her love tunnel, bringing loud moans and sighs.

“Did you think I would just sit and watch your sexy body bouncing around our apartment in the nude and not want to touch it... to taste it... to have it!? How dare you tease me like that? Now you’re getting what you really wanted, aren’t you?”

I grabbed her hair playfully, “Aren’t you?”

“YES” she moaned, pushing her ass back against my thrusts and hanging her head down low as I released her hair.

“And now your roommate, your ex-boyfriend, is actually fucking you! He’s finally fucking you after all this time, and you were secretly hoping it would come to this, weren’t you?”

“Yes!” she squealed as her torso dropped and her head turned to the side.

I grabbed her wide hips and started bouncing my body off of hers in a forceful fuck to last us a lifetime... or another long time anyway.

“You really need to be fucked like this, don’t you Anna?” I asked with heat and passion in my voice.

“Mmm... mmm... mmm,” is all she could manage. I kept the aggression level high, because I knew she liked it, and I pushed her head softly into the couch.

“Am I deep enough?” I started, “can you feel it all the way, my cock, fucking you? Is it good enough? I could fuck you like this every day you know. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? A live-in fuck partner to really give your hot pussy the hard attention it desperately needs.”

Her heavy gasps of air were answering my questions on her behalf.

I decided in the moment to take it a step further. “From now on I want you to be ready for my cock in the morning. Keep this little tight pussy neat and clean for me, I’ll be checking it first thing. I want your body smooth and smelling nice. I want to know you will be clean and soft when I come home dirty and hard.”

“Oh my god…” Anna moaned in a torrent of sexual frenzy as I pounded her cunt. While I wasn’t serious with my suggestions, and I was sure she knew I was just heating us up, there was an edge of real desire to it for both of us. I released her head and smoothed her hair as I slid in and out of her slick grip.

“Start looking forward to a nice hard cock in the morning. Won’t that be nice, a pussy filling fuck to start your day?”

I continued to thrust and shake her ass cheeks. “I like your new look by the way, one big shirt with nothing underneath. How hot did it make you, knowing you were practically naked next to me in the morning?”

“It felt... mmm... naughtier than I... thought it would,” she managed as I continued my vaginal assault.

“I bet it did,” I continued, “so naughty that you needed to let me see your whole body bent over in your room with your bare ass sticking out.”

“Oh shit,” she moaned as our thighs smacked together, “I don’t know why... I did that.”

“Because you wanted this,” I said, happily fucking her from behind on the floor of our living room. “How did you feel when I called you in to watch me shower?”

“Excited,” she admitted a little too quickly.

“I know you did, and now it’s out, isn’t it? You’ve been secretly lusting for my cock, and now you’re getting it.”

I glided into her a few more times and then slowly withdrew my long slippery cock from her body. She put her head down and started to catch her breath. I sat on the floor and turned over, my head between her quivering thighs. I pulled her dripping bush right into my mouth.

She raised her body up and kneeled over me, holding the couch for support. I could see the undersides of her breasts, and couldn’t help but reach up and squeeze one as I found her stiff clit with my mouth and sucked it right in.

“Oh F-F-FUCK!” she yelled as my tongue immediately began wearing the finish off of her hot button. I sucked her clit and pinched her nipple, sending her body into a shaking fit. I looked up and into her eyes, just in time to see them roll back as she started to shudder.

I knew one or two orgasms would never be enough, and I was almost positive she wasn’t getting this kind of attention from her boyfriend. She needed it on a physical and emotional level, and I was finally giving to it her again.

Her moans became screams as she pushed her pussy into my face, sliding it around, building up another sand castle of cum for me to kick over. Her hips began pushing my head into the couch, and she ground her wet soaking pussy against my face like I was some kind of humping pole. I grabbed the clenched cheeks of her ass and held on for the ride as her body began to shudder.

Then she came... as quickly as the screaming started, it disappeared, and she quietly shook and came all over my juice slathered face.

I finally sensed the full weight of release wash over her, and a trail of her cum dripped down my chin as I held her up. A huge smile grew across her face and she whispered down at me, “You fucker. I haven’t felt one of those in a long time.”

Anna leaned down and actually licked my cheek. Then she pushed her tongue deep in my mouth and we kissed for a minute until she broke off and said, “I’ve taught you well.”

“That you have,” I agreed, and watched as she spun around, her hand going for my cock. I felt her small fingers grabbing me tight, and then she leaned forward, her mouth slurping my meat like a melting popsicle. I felt her mouth softly sliding up and down my length.

We used to love to sixty-nine, so I slid down and pulled her legs over me again, diving my face between her legs. The sounds of sucking and smacking, moaning and devouring were over the top as we frantically ate each other out. Her legs started shaking as another climax was about to rain down on me. I wanted to cum so badly, but I also wanted to fuck her again.

I stopped eating her pussy, and pushed her off.

“Damn it,” Anna whined, “I was so close.”

“What, again!?” I asked in mock surprise.

“Yes, again, and I now I might need to borrow that tongue of yours to lick my poor pussy to sleep every night.”

A ravenous hunger boiled from my brain and I pushed her back onto the floor. I climbed between her legs and licked a long line from her soaking flame and all the way up to the side of her neck. By the time I got there, my cock was already pressing through her open folds and tunneling deep inside her pussy again.

“Oh, fucking fuck,” Anna wailed as I bottomed her out, my lips on her neck driving her insane. Just as quickly though, I backed out again, retracing the same liquid line down her splayed body and started another oral assault. This time I was held in place as her legs crossed behind my head and her cunt pushed up and down my face. She was ready, and I held on tight as I worked her.

This time the ungodly screaming arose, and as she flew over the edge, her ranting was perverse, even insane.

“Ohhh, Gooaahhddd, ahh Fuck!! mmm, fuck, Eat It! yeah, Eat my pussy, You Fuck! It’s, oh, my, fucking... nhhhh,”

I was simply holding on for dear life as she went through some kind of transcendental experience. It would have been almost scary, if it hadn’t been exactly what I was going for.

Anna came so hard I almost felt sorry for her; it was intense. Her body convulsed and she could hardly gasp for air as the orgasm ripped through her soul and all over my face. As she finally settled dow, I felt the grip loosen on my head, and her hands unwrapped themselves from my hair. Her breathing was hard and a little raspy.

“That...” she breathlessly began, “was what I have been missing. How could you do that to me?”

I climbed up next to her on the floor and said, “I just remembered how you always liked it.”

The smile plastered on her face turned to a look of wonder as she shook her head, and then a sly smiled unfolded from her pretty face.

“And now I remember what you always wanted.”

I honestly had no idea what she was talking about, until the very instant she pushed me away and sprang to her feet, running naked down the hall.

A hungry smile immediately found my face, and I jumped to my feet and ran after her, my erection so hard from my dirty thoughts that it barely moved as I did.

I rounded the corner toward the light from her room, greeted by a soft glow from her reading lamp beside her unmade bed. On the floor beside the bed was the most luscious and hungering sight my mind could have imagined.

Anna was on her elbows and knees, climbing under her bed. Her bare ass was up and fully facing me, and she was saying something from underneath.

“Oh good, can you help me find my phone? I think it dropped on the floor somewhere.”

Just her pale ass was sticking out, and her pussy was practically begging me closer. I walked up slowly behind her and got to my knees, reaching out to stroke the soft skin of her naked ass.

“Can you see anyth... hey, what are you doing? Help me look!” she snapped.

I let my fingers roam her glorious backside as I lightly found her dripping hole. I started to rub it around and push my fingers over her clit.

“Hey! Stop it!! Don’t touch me like th...” her muffled voice trailed off as two of my fingers plunged into her wet orifice.

Anna groaned and then said a muffled, “Knock it off, and let me out of here, don’t even think about it!”

It was too good, and she was really playing it up for me. I pulled my fingers out and grabbed my raging cock, eying her gorgeous bottoms-up.

“Thank you, now help me out of... hey! what are you!? no!”

I watched as the head of my cock push her juicy lips aside and ease inside, her tunnel providing quite a resistance. I sank my cock all the way into Anna’s upturned ass, her wet pussy licking the entire length of it along the way.

“You fucking bastard,” she yelled from under the bed, “how could you do this to me?”

I started working my cock in and out of the disembodied ass on legs in front of me, making sure I was listening for our old safe word.

The moans from under the bed were soft but growing. Anna’s luscious rump was milking my cock as I pumped her harder. I had to wonder if she had actually fantasized about this very thing.

After the thrill of taking advantage of her compromising position wore off, I slowed my pace and tentatively pulled out of her. Anna weaseled her butt back and forth, squirming out from under the bed. As soon as her head was free, she sat up on her knees and the look on her face was one of pure lust and playfulness.

I suddenly felt her full naked body weight slamming into me, throwing me to the floor. My head landed in a pile of her dirty clothes, and I looked up to see her face appear in my view, “Don’t you ever! fuck me like that again!” she warned, pushing off of me and jumping to her feet. I watched her naked form quickly disappear out the door.

I smiled wide as I remembered our games, and loved how easily we were picking back up with them.

I jumped up and happily bounded out of the room, wondering where my sexy naked roommate had vanished to. I instantly saw her across the hall in the brightly lit bathroom, and I slowly walked in.

Anna was leaning over the sink with her face in the mirror, applying some kind of lip something as I often saw her do, except this time she was completely naked.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked my reflection in the mirror, “can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Sorry, you left the door open and I really have to go,” I played along.

“Fine, but sit down,” she said looking back at her own pink lips, “I don’t want to hear it while I’m having some girl time.”

I walked to the commode and sat down, knowing I was unable to actually use it in my hardened state. I looked over at Anna next to me; her wonderfully perky breasts were slightly swaying with her subtle movements and her twisted nipples looked thrilled to be part of our game.

“What are you looking at?” she asked without turning her gaze to me, “do I need to wear a robe or something in my own house?”

“No, sorry,” I replied, lifting my eyes to her mouth, “I was just watching what you were doing.”

“Why, do you have a thing for lipstick or something?” she teased, “You can have it when I’m done.”

“Very funny,” I said as I stood, pressing the handle and rushing water into the clean bowl. I walked up behind her and said “I just need to wash my hands.”

“Be my guest,” she said quickly, “but I’m not moving. I was here first.” With that she widened her stance and took up the entire front of the sink.

“Fine,” I resolved and moved in behind her. The first thing to touch as I moved in close was my cock against the top of her ass.

“Hey buddy,” she warned, “watch your cock.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of room here,” I playfully whined, “don’t mind my reach.” I wrapped my arms around either side of her and pushed forward, our bodies in full naked contact as I leaned forward to reach the water.

“Well, this is awkward,” Anna said to her own reflection in the mirror, “hurry up.”

I pushed the handle on the faucet and got my hands a little wet. I leaned over for the soap and dropped a gold puddle into my palm as I pushed the top. I rubbed my hands together in front of Anna’s naked waist, enjoying the feel of her entire body against mine.

As my hands foamed up, I lightly clapped them together, launching clumps of suds into the air, some in her direction.

“Hey!” she cried, “watch it! You’re getting soap on my boobs.” She could hardly keep her grin contained as she feigned offense and stood up straight to show me the mess in the mirror.

“Oops, hold on,” I said, watching my hands in the mirror lightly touching the spots of bubbles on her breasts, leaving many more sudsy dabs in their wake. As I looked at her naked reflection, I could see large clumps of bubbles all over her chest. She just watched as I tried wiping them away, but the more I tried the soapier her bare tits were getting.

I tried to keep up the act, but soon I was soaping them up with purpose, sliding my fingers around the smooth skin, rubbing across her nipples, grabbing her slippery globes tight and squeezing them together. I was getting extremely aroused, and my cock strained against her back.

“About done?” she asked, hands on her hips now as if she was just waiting for me to finish fondling her chest.

“Almost,” I huffed into her ear. I pushed my soapy hands down her body and pulled us back. Bending my knees, I dragged the tip of my cock down the naked backside of my roommate. With almost no effort I pushed forward and submerged my entire cock into her dripping tunnel, and watched her face in the mirror as it slid all the way in.

“Ohh fuck...” she moaned as I pushed in, adding an exasperated, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just washing my hands,” I replied as I moved my hands back up to her slippery tits and held them in the mirror while I humped my bare cock in and out of her pussy.

“Oh GOD!!” she belted out as I pushed in deep, “Are you fucking me? We... mmm, we talked about this. No fucking!” She was looking at me in the mirror and grabbing the side of the sink as I continued pushing and pulling my cock in and out of her.

“Oops,” I said, “are we fucking?” My thighs smacked against hers more loudly.

I watched Anna drop her head down to enjoy our little romp for a time, and then she pushed me back with her hips, quickly stepping forward and escaping my insertion. She spun around and pushed me back against the wall next to us, getting right up in my face. She grabbed my chin and stared right into my eyes.

“Well just watch yourself mister,” she said with a commanding tone, grabbing hold of my wet dick, “don’t let this big cock come between us.” With that she started stroking me hard, her fingers slipping easily up and down my lubricated shaft, pumping me faster than I was expecting... and making her point.

I looked into her eyes and enjoyed her hand masturbating my cock between our bellies. Her soapy breasts were barely touching my chest, and her nipples kissed my flesh. I was in blissful heaven, and was seriously about to erupt when she stepped back, releasing my cock and grabbing the towel hanging on a hook next to me.

She quickly wiped the soap from her chest and handed me the towel, saying simply, “The lipstick’s all yours,” and walked out into the hall, bare-assed and smiling. I quickly turned to rinse the soap from my hands and wiped them with the towel, hanging it back on the hook.

I turned off the bathroom light and the entire place suddenly dropped into darkness. There was no light from the direction of her room, or from the living room. Figuring she must have turned off the TV, I felt my way through the dark and down the hall into the main room.

“The power’s out,” I heard Anna say from near the front window. I looked in that direction and could just make out her silhouette against the dim lights shining in from outside. I slowly approached. Being naked in my own dark apartment was nothing strange, but knowing Anna was in there with me, just as undressed, waiting for me to fuck her again, was the most thrilling sense of erotic anticipation I could remember.

“I can’t find a candle or flashlight,” she continued, “so I’m just standing by the window until it comes back on.”

I walked up quietly behind her and saw that she was looking out the window. I put a hand on her shoulder and ran my fingers down her bare back and over her ass.

“You’re naked,” I said softly, stroking her flesh with a tender touch.

“I know. I was about to jump in the shower when it went dark. Don’t.” She pushed my hand away, and brushed against my erection in the process. She stopped.

“Are you...?” she turned toward me and ran her hand up my body, “Oh my god. So we’re...”

“Both naked here in the dark,” I finished, “We’re in for a big surprise if the lights come back on.”

She backed away from me in tentative hesitation and paused for a moment before saying, “Why, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“I know, but it’s different now,” I said, “we’re not supposed to see each other... you know, like this.”

“Well... I can’t see anything,” she breathed in a husky whisper, her body mere inches from mine, “can you?”

“Definitely not,” my voice shook a little. We stood face to face, drinking in the thick anticipation and allure of the moment.

We inched closer, and I felt the softest touch folding slowly around my excited manhood. I exhaled heavily.

“What’s wrong,” her voice asked tenderly.

“Something’s touching me,” I said. Loving this a little too much.

“Really? What does it feel like?”

“Like a soft hand, on my... ohhh yeah,” I whispered, feeling the grip tightening and moving up and down.

“That’s so strange,” she said with a smile in her voice, “do you think we have ghosts?”

“If we do, they really... hhhhh, like me,” I said, as another touch moved in to softly cradle my balls. I closed my eyes, not that it made much difference in the dark, and suddenly a warm wetness wrapped around the head of my cock, moving quickly downward along it like a wet mouth sucking my cock. “Hoooly shit!”

The unexpected pitch-black sensation took me by surprise, and I nearly lost it. I felt her throat open and my cock slipped inside for a second, and then she pulled completely off, leaving my cock to balance wet and alone in the dark. I opened my eyes and saw Anna’s dark figure outlined in front of me again.

“Something... really likes me,” I said, unsteady on my own legs.

“Well keep it to yourself,” she said, “your moaning is making me uncomfortable.”

I stepped to the side and softly put my hand out, feeling for some bare skin and finding it. Knowing her body well I traced my way down her side and around the front of her thigh, feeling it open for me.

My fingers brushed past her small pubic hair and I didn’t need any light to know how turned on she was. My fingers pushed across her excited clit, and I felt her body reacting to my touch.

“You okay?” I asked with a grin.

“I-I see what you mean,” she breathed heavily; “I’m feeling a little... felt.”

I reached around in the dark and grabbed a handful of her bare tit flesh, squeezing it gently in my fingers.

“Just let it happen,” I whispered in her ear, “we don’t want to upset any spirits.” I worked a couple fingers in between her legs and started slipping them into her.

“Oh…” she moaned, leaning on the window sill, “something’s... pushing into me!”

“Seriously?” I asked as I plunged between her lips, “What does it feel like?”

“Hhhh... ohhh… a hand,” she moaned, “fingers, reaching!”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s...” she paused, “strangely thrilling.”

I felt her hips grinding around on my hand, pulling me deeper.

“It sounds really good,” I admitted hearing her heavy breathing and sultry moans, “I’m getting pretty turned on here. You sure you’re, okay?”

“Hey~”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That something in here is going to actually fuck me, and I won’t be able to stop it,” she breathed as I twisted my fingers around inside her burning bush.

“What should we do?” I asked, keeping the game alive.

“I hate to... hhhh, ask,” she breathed.

“You want me to put it in?” I offered, now brushing my cock along her bare back.

“Would you? Just to be safe?”

I slid my fingers out of her wet pool, and bending my legs I let my cock find her juicy hole. I eased it all the way in, and she groaned as I entered and stood breathless against the window... impaled.

“Like this?” I asked, holding my cock still inside of her. “Do you think anything else could fit in here?”

“Definitely... not,” she said softly, tilting her hips and edging my cock around inside her. I ran my hands up her naked sides and weighed her bare breasts in my palms. The feeling of her soft thighs against mine as I cupped her bosom caused me to involuntarily push in a little deeper.

“…no fucking,” she whispered, obviously using every ounce of her fiber to keep from encouraging me.

“I’m not sure I can help it,” I pleaded, “you feel so amazing.”

“But I have a boyfriend,” Anna said, pushing her hips back to keep my cock fully seated.

“My body doesn’t know that,” I said, pinching her bare nipples and pushing in so deep I could feel myself bottom out. I was awash in the soft feelings of her insides thoroughly soaking my dick, and I could tell our little game was about to break.

“I’m just going to, adjust myself,” I whispered, slowly easing my length out about an inch, and then pushing it back in, “like... this.”

“Oh god,” she breathed, “you can’t do that...”

“Why not?”

“It feels like sex.”

“It’s not sex,” I assured her, pulling slowly out until just the head of my cock hovered inside the entrance to her tunnel “This is sex.”

With that I pushed my hips forward and thrust a series of deep plunges into her, sliding easily in and out. Slap, slap, slap, slap...

“Oh oh st t t top!” she managed as her thighs loudly smacked against mine. I pushed in all the way in and held it there, hugging her body tightly below me and finding her ear in the dark.

“Feel the difference?” I whispered.

“You asshole,” she whimpered, “you have to stop.”

“Didn’t you like that?” I asked.

“I...” she started and then stopped.

I finished her words, “You loved it.”

“Fuck you.”

“My pleasure,” I said as I proceeded to intentionally slide my cock in and out of Anna’s pussy in the dark like I owed it a favor. My long and sensual strokes were slow but rhythmic. I knew our game had ended as I heard her groan out a familiar sound, one of pure ecstasy, and she began to match my deep plunges thrust for thrust with her hips. It was fantastic. This was no simple fuck; this was hot, deep, lubricated intercourse between two experienced sexual beings.

After a few sublime minutes of pitch-black communion with Anna, I eased my twitching cock out of her for the... fourth?... time that night. I turned her around and felt for her face, sucking the inside of her soft mouth into mine. Our bodies came together as we smashed my sloppy cock between us like a sandwich. The heat in the room was unbearable as we both were practically out of our minds with lust.

“My room...” is all I said after painfully pulling us apart.

“Now.” she agreed, pulling me quickly in that direction. I followed her lead in the dark, and we bumped our naked bodies along the wall in a hurry to get there. Once inside, I found the plug to a small string of lights, which washed the room in enough dim light to see the naked girl sprawling across my bed like a seductress.

We squinted at the light, but her eyes were on my body, crawling up and down, a look of hot lust burned onto her face.

“Come here,” she said curling a finger at me.

I crawled over her body, staring into her eyes with the awareness we were lovers once again. For a brief window in time, we let ourselves go to enjoy the familiar fruits of our bodies and minds.

Our lips met again and this time it was gentle, inviting, almost intoxicating as the soft wetness of our mouths settled into a playful erotic dance. Her legs were wide and drew me in with a tractor beam of passion and warmth, of excitement and playfulness; of lust... and love.

I stopped kissing her for a moment and looked deeply into her eyes, she read my thoughts immediately.

“I know that look,” Anna said, running her fingers through my hair. “We just can’t.”

I didn’t answer because I knew she was right. I knew the logic involved. I knew the pain we’d repeatedly felt. I knew the way our personalities worked against us at every turn when we were together.

I - Didn’t - Fucking - Care.

“I know...” I conceded as always, saying the words but feeling the twinge of remorse behind them.

“We’re so good at this,” she said, reaching between her legs and guiding my throbbing ache into her warm intensive care. She hugged me tightly to her chest as I sank it in once again, breathing heavy air into my ear. “Ohhh, Yes, that’s it, you feel so good... mmm.”

I felt her nipples pushing into me as my hips worked the action between us. I wanted to hold back and make it all last forever, but her body was too sensual, too lustful... too perfect.

I started moving faster, making her squeal with delight at my increased vigor. The bed started shifting beneath us as the sounds and smells of sex were broadcast throughout the cozy room.

I was up on my hands again, watching her body take me, her soft tits wobbling on her chest. Her mouth was open and her eyes bore into mine, urging me on. Our frantic sex was gaining steam as her legs hugged me tightly and tried to help me fuck her, like really fuck her with everything I had.

I started to get wild, and words just poured out of my mouth, like we should have known they would.

“Do you like my cock in there, An?” I was in a mental trance and everything felt familiar again, like knowing how much of a turn on her name was. “Do you like a good fuck?” Her head nodded and her eyes were eating mine alive. “Does it make your pussy wet to feel my cock fucking you so hard?”

“Yes,” she softly moaned, “keep fucking me... oh god daddy, fuck me!”

And there it was.

I had all but forgotten, but it came out of her just like that, mere moments before a shocked look spread across her face. Adorable. I slowed for just a second and grinned wickedly into her eyes as they darted with fear.

“You like daddy’s cock, don’t you baby?” I growled at her, just the way she liked it. “You’re so good for your daddy, a good girl with a wet pussy, aren’t you?”

The conflict on her face was apparent, but short lived. Quickly she reached up and pulled me down to her, our bodies frantically fucking again. Her tongue went in my ear and out the end of my juiced-up cock as it pumped into her.

“Oh god daddy, give it to me,” she moaned into my soul, “make love to me, please. I need you. Can you feel how wet you’re making me?”

I was struggling to hang on, it was all too intense. I felt my passion reaching a peak with our most personal and private game playing out after all this time. I had no choice but to settle the hell down...

“Hold on baby,” I said as I slowly pulled out of her against the strain of her legs trying to keep me in place.

“No,” she said, “don’t go!” Still, I pulled away and rolled over, lying next to her. I was breathing heavy and sweating.

“I’m exhausted,” I sigh, “let me get some rest?” I closed my eyes with my arm over my face, knowing my aim to get her on top was immediately received.

Anna climbed over and straddled me, quickly descending her hot pussy over my soaking cock and picking up right where we left off.

“Mmmm, what are you doing hon?” I moaned as she swallowed my cock with her body in the most desperate way possible.

“I need you daddy,” she said as her butt started to bounce her soft pussy up and down the length of me as she lay on top of me, “I have to feel you... inside me... fucking me... daddy,” she whispered in my ear.

With a surge of passion, she sat herself upright, my cock fully seated inside of her. Watching her sitting above me I admired her perky breasts as she stared into my eyes. I reached up and took a handful of each. She looked down at me with a mischievous smirk, and then something else settled onto her face. . .

“Daddy...” she started to say, slowly grinding her pelvis into my pubic bone and swirling my cock around inside of her. No more words came however as she placed her palms flat on my chest and pushed against me, shifting her hips and stirring her insides with my deeply reaching cock. Her rocking became pushing, and her pushing became sliding. Soon she was lying against me again, quickly and frantically fucking my brains out.

Our bodies slapped together as our moans devolved into grunts. I felt Anna’s hot breath in my ear again, and her words this time were some of the most wonderful utterances my soul could ever have dreamed.

“Daddy, oh... this is so good, and... god, you’re so incredible. I love your big cock inside of me, Mmmm. You’re everything to me, and anything you’re not... mmmm... tough shit. Ohhhhhh gggod, keep fucking me daddy… yessss. This has to be, the last time... uh huh, keep going... the last time we, fuck around on other people, okay?”

I barely started to reply.

“Shhhh,” she continued as her pussy slid up and down my deep erection, “…mmmm, let me finish... This is the last time, because from now on, there are no other people Daddy, ahh... that’s right... because, I want to be yours again. I want us to be together, forever this time... ohhhh... you like that, Daddy? It’s okay. Tell me.”

“I fucking love it,” my voice burst out as my cock thrust into her bouncing body. I had hold of her hips and was pulling her back down to me each time she pulled away.

Finally, I slowed our bodies down to an easy pace and looked hard into her eyes. “And I love you, Anna. I really do” I lifted my hands and held her face in them as our bodies slowed. “What the hell have we been doing all this time?” I had to know.

She didn’t answer at first, and just looked into my eyes as we stopped, our souls keeping the sultry flames connecting us alive. Then she told me, and it made perfect sense.

“Making sure.”

Oh, I was sure. I was absolutely sure there wasn’t another person on the planet that could come close to the connection I felt with this human being. I wanted nothing more in that very moment than to follow her to the ends of the world and throw everything I called my own into oblivion.

I was hers. Anna’s... and I had never been happier.

“And you’re sure?” I asked tentatively.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she said, her words falling out between panting breaths. “I love you more right now than I thought was possible.”

I pushed deeply into her body, this time to form a concrete joining of our souls. She pushed back and I instantly felt every other time we had merged together wash over me as if they had all just happened in an instant. We locked together in a quiet, emotional embrace.

Anna’s soft body was an extension of mine in that moment in time. We started to hug tightly in our coupled position, twitching slightly from the emotional and physical reception.

Our bodies started to ignite again, but without any physical movement. It was a strange feeling, like we were fucking, frozen in time.

She looked at me and I felt her pussy start to tremble around my cock. Then it twitched again, and I felt a rumble in my body. Her arms began to shake, and her mouth opened in an expression of deep pleasure. It was so beautiful and enchanting that I felt a wave of passion extend my cock into her further.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, as her legs began to join the chorus. I held on to her tightly and just throbbed inside of her, feeling every pulse of pleasure that was building around it. Her chest began to twitch, and she sucked in a deep breath, clinging to my body and digging her nails into my skin.

“OOOOOOHHHH...” she shuddered with a shaky moan, and I looked up at her face, which she had pushed forward in a grimace of intense concentration, and I knew Anna was about to burst.

The wall of energy that slammed into her body caused every muscle of hers to clench, gripping me tightly beneath her and jerking us both with her sudden heaves. I held on tightly and just let her come around me with everything she had, feeling her pussy convulsing and twitching on my cock, drinking in the waves of pressure and release washing over us.

Without warning the feel of her throbbing contractions and her intense climax caused my cock to swell and vibrate. The feel of her liquid release washing over me and the erotic spectacle of her orgasm was enough to start my own.

“Breed me, daddy…” Anna said.

That was enough to set me off, a wave of thrilling exhilaration rushed through my nervous system, throbbing out a wave of cum deep into her body as my muscles grabbed her tightly. My creamy jets lurched into Anna’s delicious cunt as her inner walls milked my erupting cock of each electric burst. They kept pumping out of me, pulse after pulse, for what seemed like an eternity...

It was immediately the most intense sexual feeling I had ever experienced, and there hadn’t been any movement; only our tight naked connection and our newly ignited passion and love for the other. We lay there panting, both of us with looks of disbelief and sheer wonder on our faces.

“What the hell... was that?” she asked finally, her body sweating and still snugly wrapped around my own.

“The best sex we’ve ever had?” I offered slowly, feeling my cock finally letting go of the firm pressure it had been holding all night.

Her heavy breathing was coming down and she lifted her body up onto her arms to look into my eyes, a satisfied grin and something else across her face.

“By far the best sex we’ve ever had,” she agreed and paused, her gaze drinking in my soul for a moment.

“I think we should give it another go.”

“Really?” I exasperated, unable to actually move my body another inch, “I think I might need the night to recover.”

Anna smiled and rolled her eyes, “Not that dummy... Us.”

There was no question, no hesitation in my mind. Our subconscious minds kept bringing us together over the years for what we finally came to realize. We couldn’t stay apart, for worse or for better...

[iholdwhatican]

reunions

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

read part 2 here!

length: 3.8k

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension

summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?

author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3

originally posted by iholdwhatican

You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 

You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 

So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?

Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 

He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 

And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 

You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 

The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 

Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 

The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 

God, what the hell was wrong with you? 

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 

Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 

You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 

You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 

Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 

The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 

You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 

“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 

You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 

The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 

He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 

God, you needed a cigarette. 

You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 

Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 

You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 

He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 

The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 

Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 

The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 

You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 

You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 

Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 

You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 

“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 

“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 

“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 

Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 

You needed another drink. Or ten. 

“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 

“More than anything else in this world.” 

Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 

It made something flip in your stomach. 

“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 

You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 

“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 

You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 

Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 

You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.

The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 

“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 

The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 

You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 

His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 

You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 

“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 

You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 

“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 

“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 

Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 

“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 

“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 

You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 

“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 

The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 

The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 

The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 

You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 

“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 

You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 

“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 

He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 

Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 

You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 

But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 

You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 

You really, really fucking liked this. 

When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 

It was unbelievably hot. 

As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 

You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 

[junislqve]

⟡ out of limit — ot7

when they find out you’re secretly liking them (and they are secretly liking you too) — minor drawback, you are their best friend’s sister

pairs members + reader content petnames fluff wordcount 1632 — find my other works

note i love writing prompts, this was supposed to be a short-ish headcannon hence why hee's is kinda short. but i got carried away lmfao

LEE HEESEUNG

“thanks, pretty”

heeseung would relentlessly tease you once he finds out. calling you petnames and complimenting you all the time just to get a reaction out of you.

 he finds it adorable when you would blush and dismiss his flirting with a mumble. 

of course, he knew that he wouldn’t even get the chance to confess his feelings back to you before his head gets chopped off by jay. but he found his way around. 

sneaking into your room when jay’s back is turned or sneaking in a few kisses when you all watch movies together. he loves the way you would get red from his words, looking away out of embarrassment.

he loves the thrill of meeting you, getting to hold you and savor you even if it was only for a while. 

he would take risks if it meant being able to hold you and be beside you. snuggling his head into the crook of your neck chasing the comfort you gave him.

PARK JONGSEONG

he’s quiet. he already was before, much more now when he found out. 

jay was never really a talkative person to people who weren’t his friends. but he has always felt comfortable with you, talking about his days and anything he’s thinking about.

that was what brought you to like him. at first, you thought that he was quite intimidating and would be really hard to talk to. but since he was your brother’s best friend, jay had warmed up to you from the countless visits he’s paid to your house.

you’d realize his abrupt silence towards you. you thought he was avoiding you, thinking you’ve said something wrong to him. 

however, the only reason he’s gone silent was because he was scared you’d find out he likes you back. his heartbeat speeding like crazy when you put your face so close to his in attempt to make him break character and start talking to you again.

of course, you won and he ended up mumbling nonsense to you while hiding his face afraid it was going to turn red if he continued to see your pretty face so up close.

“stop doing that… you look too pretty”

SIM JAEYUN

“i like you too”

the absolute worst at keeping secrets so the moment he finds out he’s just going to have this dazed look. he was in love with you. that much, all of his friends knew, except for heeseung of course. 

you didn’t even know of jake’s existence until you were waiting for your brother to pick you up and he was there in the passenger seat. he and your brother talked a lot and you just tuned them out. 

what you didn’t expect was for him to turn around and talk to you. you thought he was about to ask the basics; your name, age, whatever. however, jake started including you in their conversation. asking for your opinions about something they were talking about.

since then, you’ve always liked whenever jake would hang out with your brother. knowing that he would ask if you wanted to join them every single time. he was so sweet and caring, and really good looking. how could’ve you not fallen for him?

so when you and jake were left in the ice cream parlor as your brother went to the bathroom. jake was observing your rigid figure. your eyes trained on your phone for dear life, scrolling up and down your contact list just to avoid awkwardness.

that’s when jake said it, gazing at you with a soft smile, “i like you too, you know?”

PARK SUNGHOON

you knew sunghoon purely from gossip. everyone had different opinions about him, most including the words ‘cold’ and ‘quiet’. you’ve only ever seen him whenever he had to receive trophies from the principal for winning competitions.

you were an average student. your grades were’t horrible, but they weren’t stellar either. so imagine your surprise when you got paired up with sunghoon for an end of year project worth 60% of your grades.

truthfully, you were scared of him for a while. thinking he would be strict with schedule and meetups. sunghoon however proved you wrong when he started chatting you first asking when you were free to do the work and not minding the place of meetup. 

you worked with him for 3 months until the project was finally complete and perfect. during those times, you both had met up plenty of times each time getting to know the other more by exchanging stories.

sunghoon found out when he forgot to take his bag in the class and overheard your friend convincing you to confess. you sat slumped across her, your hand on your head.

sunghoon was just battling himself at this point. he harbored feelings for you that he’s been denying for months. he’s known you for way longer than you thought. having his eye on you way before the fated project pairing. 

he took an interest in you, finding it fun to observe you in silence and trying to come up with a way to approach you.

however, all of it went down the drain when he found out your brother, jake, is quite well known to be protective. and what’s worse is that he knew your brother, not personally but well acquainted enough.

sunghoon didn’t really know how to express the feelings he had for you. even after hearing you confess, basically. so he attempted to do it without words. listing all the things you liked and disliked in his head for future reference.

“you said you were craving ice cream” showing up at your doorstep, his body soaking wet from the rain, panting. but the plastic bag he grasped tightly was completely dry, filled with much more snacks than you would ever need.

KIM SUNOO

“wasn’t it obvious?”

you knew sunoo was a very cheerful and chatty person. it wasn’t weird that you two had become well acquainted despite him being your brother’s best friend. 

he was a really friendly person which drove you to become comfortable talking to him, even if your brother wasn’t around. his kindness and concern for you made you take an immediate liking to him.

you knew however that that was sunoo’s nature so you really didn’t have your hopes up. labeling anything he does as just him being his own friendly self. it took sunoo quite a while to figure out you liked him. 

almost immediately after finding out sunoo’s chattiness towards you grew tenfold. meanwhile, you were trying to avoid him. 

sunoo caught on and one day stopped by your apartment unexpectedly, “i thought you liked me” he says with a faux pout.

at first you were scared he didn’t like you back but rest assured, he gave you the biggest hug and peppered kisses all over your face right after. 

“you’re adorable when you’re flustered”

YANG JUNGWON

“i don’t want you to walk home alone”

you barely knew jungwon. yet from how he acted towards others, you’ve always looked up to him.

he was entirely selfless and loved helping people.

the lines between fascination and like quickly blurred when you were the one being his object of affection.

because jungwon and your brother became close friends, jungwon took it upon himself to take care of you too. meaning, when your brother wasn’t there, jungwon was.

somewhere between all the after-school hangouts and him taking you out to watch movies together, the mere closeness of jungwon made your head dizzy.

he always hugged you alot, it was all friendly. but now his smell overtakes your senses, his warmth circling every inch of your body.

and by the time you tried to distance from him, he never let you out of his sight. 

when you refused to let him drive you back home and would rather wait for the rain to stop, jungwon went and sat there with you, draping his jacket around your figure.

“i’m waiting here with you” he says smiling so sweetly, those dimples in view. his hand went to pat your head and you unconsciously leaned to his touch.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki was your own best friend along with your brother’s. when you two first met, you both immediately clicked, much to your brother’s dismay.

he had always liked you a bit more than your brother, teasing you yet giving you everything you want. 

put simply, he’s wrapped around your finger. you just didn’t know that.

any smart person can see that he’s head over heels. i mean, who would willingly run to your house in the middle of the night just because you said you were hungry other than riki?

you usually went out with your brother, though the begging would take somewhere within half an hour, but you won most of the time nonetheless.

however, with riki, you had just shot him a short text that seriously didn’t mean as much. only a small ‘i’m kinda hungry’ and you find him outside your door minutes later, holding his car keys.

you both end up in a 24 hour convenience store at midnight, slurping up warm ramen together. 

when someone opened the door and the wind from outside hits your face, you didn’t expect riki to hold your hair back as you continued chewing. 

you might be weak willed here, but after that day he kept bringing a hair tie on his wrist. specifically on days you two would hang out and with much denial, you knew you had feelings for him.

not to worry though, because he’s been in love with you for the longest time. 

you just couldn’t catch the gaze he had when he held your hair, or the smile he has when you cracked an unfunny joke.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[keferon]

Did I spend two hours writing this? Ha! No, why do you ask. *lying through my teeth* anyway come here Mecha au Texaid enjoyers. come get yall juice.

———

Vortex isn’t sure when it started. Doesn’t even dare to try to pinpoint the when, why, where and how of it. Just that it exists. Some forgotten feeling stored in the deep recesses of his somewhat intact consciousness that has resurfaced. It burns him, tears down at the steel walls he had formed around himself. Makes him feel like he’s being broken down then built up again. 

It’s a wonderful, terrifying feeling that eats away at him the more ‘he’s’ here. The more that secretly unhinged medic-turned-pilot crawls into his cockpit, every time getting more comfortable with connecting with him literally and figuratively. With Aid slowly coming to not outright radiate hatred with every encounter. Sharing stuff like music, who they couldn’t stand, and answers to the most stupid questions like ‘wha’s your favorite color?’. Vortex had cackled at Aid for that one.

At first he rejects the feeling. Stops it at full force, imagining it going through a trash compactor or being incinerated to ash. He makes himself believe it’s a game. Empty threats, flirtatious behavior and cutting banter puts him at the top 5 of First Aid’s Most Annoying Motherfuckers to Ever Exist list. A tidbit of information he is proud as fuck of.

But that denial came to a stop the moment Shockwave had stepped into his hangar while Aid had been in his cockpit, his visor the only shield to keep that creepo from getting near him. Vortex may have been a homicidal maniac, but there had always been something about Shockwave’s presence that made him feel suffocated even back when he was alive. It took some silent processing to realize—and goddammit he hates himself for it—how afraid he had been. Not so much for himself but for the little flesh bag hidden away inside him. 

It had rocked him, that’s for damn sure. When Aid had asked what made him different from all the other pilots Vortex had disregarded and killed, he answered truthfully at the time. ‘You treat me like a threat, like I’m the one in control of this power instead of you.’ And while that still held some merit, it changed kind of. ‘Threat’ turned into person. And the power that he holds became more and more of Aid’s. How easily Vortex was swayed into giving into Aid’s requests. 

The first one being to dissect that Quintesson. He had reveled in the way it squirmed and screeched, trying fruitlessly to get out of their grip. Vortex considered to simply rip it in half for fun, until he felt something from the connection in the drift. A sort of fascination and curiosity quietly humming through the link. Took him longer than he’d like to admit to realize it wasn’t coming from him but Aid. A drive to know how this creature worked, how to best take it apart to examine its insides. And before he knew what he was doing, Vortex did, cutting it as neatly down the middle as he could manage. He remembers the shudder of excitement from the link, at how different that alien was, how this information could benefit battles in the future. The bombardment of information and feelings had shocked him, though he of course didn’t show it, but it also sent a thrill of wonder through him. ‘This freak’ he had chuckled to himself, feeling as Aid leaned out from his cockpit to examine the creature.

After that he realized how dangerous this was. The power Aid unknowingly held over him, and all he needed were his words. But he found that he didn’t care all that much. Especially not when Aid would sometimes fall asleep in his cockpit after a grueling mission, and Vortex would snap his visor at anyone who tried to get him out. Moments like that made him wish he still had a human body. To flick the nerd’s nose, to ruffle his hair, to playfully shove him. Thoughts like those made his non-existent heart throb, sickening himself with those sappy sentiments. He will never mention this to Aid, you’d have to rip it out of his cold, dead conscience.

Standing in the hangar, he’s not sure when he had decided this promise to himself. Doesn’t even try to pinpoint when. But he knows that if this little ant ever died, he wouldn’t stop destroying everything in his path until he either killed the one who had done it, very slowly at that, or deactivated with vengeance still roaring through his circuits. 

OH I LOVE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH KFKFNFKDNHDKRKTNRJRMT

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[lionneee]

What a marriage

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

Part 1 -> Part 2

•Warnings: fake marriage, arranged marriage, smut, piv, kissing, cheating, degradation.•

Modern!Husband!Aemond x Wife!Reader

{Request: Can I request a one shot older aemond and younger reader where reader father forces her to marry him and she didn't liked it a bit so she always tries to make him mad by pissing him off or by making him jealous Aemond tried to control his anger but He couldn't after he Caught her kissing a guy Then he punished her}

She never wanted this marriage. It wasn’t like she had a choice. Her father saw it as some grand opportunity, a way to bind their house to the Targaryens, like that would magically fix everything. As if marrying her off to Aemond, Aemond Targaryen, no less, was supposed to make her grateful.

But her father didn’t care. He hadn’t even bothered to ask how she felt about it. He’d simply handed her over like a prize, expecting her to smile and bow to Aemond, as if she owed him her devotion. Aemond. The man barely spoke. Half the time, it was like she didn’t even exist to him. Cold, stiff, and always so composed. She swore she could scream in his face and he’d just stare right through her with those sharp, calculating eyes, silently judging her.

She’d tried to make an effort. Tried talking to him, initiating conversations, anything to break through that icy exterior. But every time, he brushed her off, answering in clipped, controlled words, distant as ever. She wasn’t some ornament, some pretty little thing to be kept out of sight and out of mind. Yet every attempt to get his attention felt like hitting a stone wall.

Fine.

If he wanted to ignore her, she would ignore him right back.

It wasn’t as if he cared about this marriage either. He didn’t even bother to pretend. He was always locked away in his study, working, gods, always working, while she was left waiting like some foolish girl. Waiting for what? A few disinterested words over dinner? A fleeting glance in the hallway? The truth was, she wanted to hate him, and he made it so incredibly easy by acting as though she didn’t exist.

‘I don’t get it. You have his money, he doesn’t want to be with you. Why are you still at home? Come with me to dance tonight!’ her friend had said.

And she couldn’t argue. Why should she stay? Why pretend to care about her marriage when Aemond couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge her presence? So, here she was, sneaking out of the grand house like some rebellious child, holding her heels in her hand to avoid making noise. She was going to dance. Maybe drink. Maybe flirt with someone just to feel alive, to remind herself that she still had choices, no matter how reckless they might be.

She made it to the door, her heart racing with the thrill of defiance, but as her hand brushed the handle, a voice as cold and sharp as a blade cut through the silence.

"Again?" He raised his eyebrow at her as he stood a few steps from her, unimpressed and unamused.

Her heart stopped, her fingers freezing on the door handle. Slowly, she turned around to face him, and there he was, Aemond, standing a few steps away. His eye was fixed on her, unimpressed, his expression cold and unamused. He stood tall, regal, his arms crossed over his chest, and though his voice had been calm, there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Her pulse quickened, not just from fear, but from the sheer audacity of his tone. As if she were the one acting out of line. As if he had any right to question her after months of barely speaking, after ignoring her for so long.

“You don’t care where I go." She shot back, hoping her voice sounded stronger than she felt. “Why should it matter to you what I do?”

Aemond’s expression didn’t change. His gaze swept over her, taking in her dress, her shoes still clutched in her hand, the rebellious fire in her eyes. He took a step closer, and despite herself, she instinctively backed up, her shoulder brushing against the door.

“It matters." He said, his voice low, controlled, and dangerous. “Because you are my wife.”

The way he said it, like it was a fact she couldn’t argue with, only fueled the frustration burning inside her. His wife. His. As if the mere title gave him ownership over her, when he hadn’t so much as shown her an ounce of affection since the day they were wed.

She shook her head with a bitter smile on her face, and after that, she walked out, running barefit to her friend's car at the end of the driveway of the house.

For the first time in what felt like ages, she let herself breathe. The wind from the open window tangled her hair, and the thought of dancing, laughing, and forgetting everything about Aemond, about her father’s plans, about the endless silence, lit a fire of excitement in her chest. She wasn’t a prize to be won, and tonight she’d prove that. She’d reclaim her choices, even if just for a few hours.

The club was a blur of neon lights, pounding music, and bodies moving in time to the heavy bass. She and her friend weaved through the crowd, making their way to the bar, where she ordered a drink, something strong, to dull the lingering bitterness that clung to her like a shadow.

"You go girl." Her friend laughed, handing her the glass. "Let's have some fun."

She smiled, but the triumph she’d expected didn’t come. Instead, Aemond’s cold, dispassionate face flashed through her mind, his voice, that same calm authority in his words, as though he had any right to dictate her life. It grated at her, the memory of him standing there, unimpressed by her rebellion, almost daring her to leave.

But she had left. She was here, wasn’t she? Surrounded by people, music, life. She downed her drink and ordered another.

For a while, it worked. She let the music sweep her up, moving to the rhythm, letting her body loosen, the alcohol sending a warm buzz through her limbs. A stranger approached, smiling, and she found herself flirting, feeling the rush of attention, the thrill of being seen. The stranger's hand rested lightly on her waist, guiding her as they danced, and for a brief moment, she felt like she’d regained control of her life.

She leaned into the stranger, her body moving effortlessly in sync with his. The alcohol had dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts, and in this moment, she craved nothing more than to lose herself, to forget the weight of her marriage, the coldness of Aemond’s gaze, the suffocating expectations. She didn’t want to think anymore; she just wanted to feel.

The stranger’s hand slid up her arm, his touch warm against her skin, pulling her closer. Her heart raced, not with affection, but with rebellion, an act of defiance against the life she had been thrust into. His face was inches from hers, and without thinking, without pausing to consider the consequences, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.

The man immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, his hands slowly darting out to her lower back as he pushed his tongue in her mouth, kissing her quickly, harshly.

She closed her eyes shut, trying to forget everything about her life and just focus on the kiss, on the man in front of her, his hands that moved to her butt, grabbing a handful of her skin and squeezing it.

The man pulled away from her lips and started to kiss her neck, she opened her eyes to look down at him, then, she made the biggest mistake.

She raised her gaze in front of her and she saw him.

Her husband.

Staring right back at her, right behind the stranger that was touching her body and kissing her neck.

Basing on Aemond’s look, he was not happy about that.

She didn’t dare to pull the man away.

It was like a silent battle between her and her husband, where he was silently ordering her to leave the man, and she was showing him just how much she didn’t care about his orders.

Aemond took a step closer, standing right behind the man that kept touching her body and sucking the skin of her neck, pulling her closer against his chest as he slowly started to grind his hips against hers, trying to look like he was simply dancing.

She simply placed her hands on the man's shoulders, and that’s when Aemond smirked.

That took her off guard,she couldn’t understand why he was smirking, but then he looked down at the ring on her finger.

Her wedding ring.

She smirked right back, and without tearing her eyes off Aemond, she leaned towards the stranger's ear.

“I’m married…” She whispered, trying to sound sexual, and she bit her lip. She saw with the corner of her eyes the man’s head snap up, then a grin forming on his face. 

“So young?” He asked with a hint of surprise.

That’s when she looked away from Aemond, to the man in front of her.

“Yeah… But my husband is older, and he doesn't know how to take care of me…” She said, pretending to be sad and frustrated. The man raised his eyebrows and looked at her with a wide smirk.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby.” He squeezed her butt again, pulling her against him. “I can.” He chuckled and kissed her again, unaware that her husband was watching them, and he felt ready to kill that guy.

Then, in a second, the man wasn’t on her anymore, but on the floor, with Aemond’s foot pressed against his chest.

She saw him lean down and say something to the man, but due to the loud musing, she couldn’t hear a word.

Aemond turned and glared at her his nostrils wide open as he panted in fury, he stepped back from the man and grabbed her wrist, dragging her behind him as he strode out of the club.

Without much elegance, he threw her in the car, not so elegantly and slammed the door right after.

She pressed her lips together as she looked at him, walking around the car to get in the driver seat.

“Disrespect me like this-” He growled as he turned on the engine. “Act like a damn whore , “ He slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “Cheat-“

“Cheat?” She repeated, her voice trembling, betraying herself when she tried to sound strong. “We’re not a couple.”

Aemond took a deep breath as he sped up the car, his hands gripping tightly the steering wheel.

“Shut up. Shut. Up.” He growled, his tone of voice suggesting her to follow his order.

She looked out of the window and sank in the seat, spending the rest of the ride silent.

The rest of the car ride was tense and suffocating. The only sound was the engine's roar, and the tension crackling between them like a fire ready to burst. She kept her gaze fixed on the blur of the passing city, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if trying to shield herself from the storm brewing next to her.

Aemond’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight, his knuckles turned white. His eye was trained on the road, but the energy radiating from him was unmistakable, anger, frustration, something darker she couldn’t quite name. The car cut through the city streets with reckless speed, and for a moment, she wondered if he even cared where they were going or if he was just trying to burn off his fury.

They arrived back at the house far quicker than she expected. Aemond barely parked the car before he was out of it, slamming the door with enough force to make her jump. She hesitated, but only for a moment, before following suit, the click of her heels echoing on the pavement as she stepped out. The front door was already open, Aemond standing inside, waiting for her.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her. The sound reverberated through the grand hall, making her stomach drop. She turned to face him, heart pounding, unsure of what would come next. His single eye was fixed on her, blazing with barely restrained fury, but beneath it was something else, something more dangerous, possession.

“You think you can humiliate me like that?” His voice was low, the words dripping with anger.

She lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to back down. "Humiliate you? You've ignored me for months, Aemond. You don’t get to act like you care now. You made it very clear from the beginning that I mean nothing to you."

Aemond’s jaw tightened, his gaze never wavering. “You’re my wife." He said again, as if that explained everything. His voice was cold, but there was an edge of desperation beneath it.

She swallowed, trying to hold his gaze without flinching. “Your wife?!" She snapped, her voice rising. “Being ignored,  pretending we’re something we’re not, this is our marriage. You don’t even care about me, Aemond. You’ve made that very clear.”

Aemond’s eye darkened. “You think I don’t care?”

“You don’t!" She shot back, her frustration bubbling over. “You never speak to me, you never acknowledge me. You’re always locked away, and I’m left here, waiting for... what? For you to remember that I even exist? You never have, not once!”

He took a step closer, his posture tense, coiled like a predator. “You think that justifies what you did tonight? Throwing yourself at some stranger like a common-”

“Don’t you dare!" She cut him off, her voice sharp. “Don’t you dare make this about my behavior when you’re the one who’s treated me like nothing more than an accessory. You don’t get to be angry, Aemond, not when you’ve given me nothing to work with.”

Aemond’s lips pressed into a thin line, his nostrils flaring. His chest heaved as he struggled to contain whatever storm was raging inside him.

“I’ve given you everything." He said, his voice barely above a whisper, though the weight of it hung heavy in the air. “Everything I have, you have. My name. My house. My loyalty.”

“Your loyalty?” She let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t even look at me.”

His eye flickered with anger. “I’ve been patient." He snarled, his voice laced with cold control. “I’ve kept my distance because I didn’t want to force you into something you clearly weren’t ready for. But make no mistake, wife, you belong to me. No matter how much you hate me, or I hate you. No matter what we feel, we are married.”

Aemond stepped closer, towering over her. “I’ve allowed you your space, your defiance, even your rebellion tonight. But no more. This ends now.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse racing. “And what if I don’t agree?" She challenged, though her voice faltered at the end.

Aemond’s smirk returned, dark and dangerous. “You will." He said, his voice as smooth as silk, “Because I won’t give you a choice.”

“Aemond -” She began, but her words were cut off as he tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You are mine." He whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “And I am yours, whether you like it or not.” He paused as he looked at her face. “This marriage is real." Aemond said, his voice rough. “You don’t get to run from it. You don’t get to run from me.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “And what if I still want to?" She whispered. He immediately wrapped his hand around her neck,  squeezing lightly.

“Then I’ll chase you." He growled. “And you won’t escape.”

Her breath caught at his words, at the possessiveness in them. His eye bore into her, and she felt a sudden anger warming her chest.

She knew that no matter how much she ran, this was her life.

And she couldn't do anything to change it.

“I hate you.” She hissed, her voice filled with venom.

She saw it in his eye, a spark of lust at her words. Her breath got caught in her throat as she looked up at him.

He liked it. It turned him on.

In a swift motion, he closed the distance between them, his hand squeezing her neck. The sudden lack of air sent a jolt through her even if it was for a brief moment. His touch was cruel, it was possessive, commanding.

Before she could react, his lips crashed down on hers, fierce and unrelenting. It wasn’t a kiss of affection; it was a claim, a reminder of the bond they shared, a bond she had tried to forget but could no longer deny.

She wanted to resist, wanted to push him away, but something inside her cracked, the wall she had built around her heart splintering under the force of his kiss. She kissed him back, not out of love or affection, but out of the same defiance that had driven her to the club in the first place.

When he finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads nearly touching. His eye searched hers, his chest rising and falling with the effort of controlling his emotions.

“Run away again, and when I find you, I’ll tie you to my bed.” He growled as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“If I run away again, I’ll make sure you’ll never find me again.” She hissed right back. Aemond groaned and pulled her by her neck closer, his lips slamming against hers again, kissing with all the anger he had inside, all the desire and frustration he grew over the marriage.

“Keep fighting back.” He hissed in her ear. “It only gets me going.” She could feel the smirk against her ear, his amusement, his challenge.

She placed her hands on his chest and forcefully pushed him away, but he only let out a low grunt, taking a small step back. He looked down at her with an amused smirk, and moved his hand behind her neck, pushing her forward and slamming her face against the wall, his body pressing hers from behind.

“Try again.” He growled. She could hear him trying to unbuckle his belt, and she waited until he shifted his attention to his pants to throw herself back to get him off of her and run upstairs.

She managed to take four steps before he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him, wrapping his arms around her from behind, one around her middle, the other arm clenching around her throat.

She gritted her teeth as she wrapped her hands around his arm.

“Fuck you-” She managed to say before he bent more his arm to cut her off. He moved his other hand to raise her dress over her legs and ass, leaving her in underwear.

He thrusted his hips forward against her, and her breath got caught in her throat as she felt his big hard cock rubbing against her ass.

He chuckled at her gasp, he kept her close to him by the grip around her neck as he lowered his boxers.

“Do you think you can take it?” He pressed the side of his head against hers. “I know you can't see it, wife, but I assure you, it’s big.” He pressed a hand on her stomach to make her feel it again, and she had to bite back a moan, just at the idea of his big cock filling her so good.

“I’ve had better, husband.” She smirked as she dug her nails in his arm, that was still tightly around her neck. He growled in her ear as his hand on her stomach moved lower, until it found her core.

Without much teasing he slipped two fingers inside and chuckled.

“That’s why you’re so wet?” He started moving his fingers inside her with a fast pace, roughly, making her legs tremble as she tried to close them for too much pleasure so suddenly, in such a short time.

“No, kissing that guy at the club did it-” She choked as he bent further his arm.

Truth was, Aemond was fucking hot when he was angry.

And she was enjoying this game perhaps too much.

She groaned as she tried to close her legs, Aemond pulled his hand away and slapped her butt.

“You’re so wet I won’t even have to properly prepare you, I guess I’ll thank that guy, for wetting my wife for me-” He said in a low growl, then he pressed his forehead against her temple and growled in her ear. “I will spread your walls on my cock-” He moved his hand between their bodies, grabbing his cock and giving it a few pumps before pressing the head against her entrance. “Until you’ll be begging me to stop.” He thrusted his hips forward, making his cock slam inside her, placing a hand on her stomach to keep her still.

“Oh my God – “ Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she moaned loudly, her back arching, her buttcheeks pressing against him as he filled her to the bring, to a point no one has ever reached before.

“You feel it, don’t you?” He chuckled darkly in her ear as he moved back, pulling out almost to the end before slamming inside once again, settling the whole glorious length inside her warm folds.

She sobbed as she got filled again, she could feel him everywhere, rubbing every spot inside her, throbbing against her wet walls.

He started thrusting slowly, but hard, making her jolt forward every time he settled back inside her,

“Not so talkative anymore, uh?” He chuckled as he started to pick up the pace, his hand on her stomach pressing harder. “I know you feel me.” He whispered as he felt a slight bulge against his hand every time he thrusted back. “Even I can feel me.” 

“F-fuck you-” She breathed out, her eyes closed as she tried to focus on pleasure and not at the slight discomfort of having something that big inside her. “I hate your small dick just as much as I hate you.” She grunted, trying to sound believable, but the laugh she heard from him let her know that she failed miserably.

“Small dick? Is that all you can do?” 

He smiled and moved his hand lower, back between her legs, his fingers quickly found her clit and started rubbing it quickly. She arched her back violently as she bent her legs, crying out and trying to close her legs to stop his hand, Aemond’s arm around her neck was the only thing keeping her on her feet, her legs slowly starting to turn jelly as he kept with his merciless pounds, always harder.

The only sound filling the room was his grunts and her pants, along with the sticky wet sounds on his cock as it slipped in and out of her, his balls hitting her ass every time he filled again.

His tip caressed her sweet spot every time it rubbed its way inside, then it hit another spot she didn’t know she had, way deeper, sending shivers of pleasure through her. In addition his fingers never stopped stimulating her clit, bringing her edge dangerously close.

“For fucks sake, you’re leaking-“ He grunted as he kept thrusting inside her with a punishing pace.

She moaned and tilted her head back, her mouth agape, she felt unable to properly think of a sentence or an insult, anything.

She was completely out because of his husband's long, thick, wonderful cock.

Aemond looked down at her, finding her eyes lost in pleasure, her dumbfolded expression as he fucked her raw was almost too much for him.

Almost.

He suddenly picked up a faster pace, hugging her chest with his free arm as he slammed harder against her, making her let out sounds he had never heard before.

“I know you want to come.” He growled in her ear. “Because you love this dick.” He smiled as she head a particularly loud moan, then her walls started to squeeze him inside, massaging his cock tightly, asking him to never leave that wet heat he was enveloped in.

“There, baby. Come.” He moaned as he choked her a bit more, and his words seemed to be enough for her.

Her whole body shook violently against his, and she would have fallen over if he wouldn’t have been keeping her up.

He moaned loudly as she tightened even more that he expected, and with a low growl, he slammed his cock as deep as it could go, staying there and enjoying every little squeeze she gave him.

He moved only when she calmed down. He pulled out and pushed her towards the back of the couch, making her bend over it.

“What? Get off me! I can’t-“ She gasped and stopped herself when he smacked her bottom, hard enough to leave a red print of his hand. 

“What did I say?” He said as he pushed right back into her, making her arch her back immediately and stood up. He pushed right back on the couch, keeping her firm with a hand on the back of her neck. “You’ll be begging me to stop.”

He quickly started to pound into her again, looking down at his cock getting wetter by the second, as it disappeared in her folds.

“Fuck! Ah — Aemond-“ She moaned as she tried to hold on to everything she could find.

“Yes? What is it?” He chuckled darkly, waiting for her pleas.

She groaned loudly and squeezed the cushions of the couch in her hands, wanting to beg him to stop and let her rest, but too stubborn to actually do it.

“Fuck you!” She shouted, but that only spurred him more. He slapped her butt again, the he grabbed a handful, pressing her cheeks apart so he had a clearer view of what he was doing to her.

He started to feel his orgasm reaching, but he wanted to make her come again first.

“Look at you -“ He panted. “Here I thought you were so rebellious, but it took me only a night to make you bend over for me.” He laughed. She could feel her cheeks burn hot with anger and embarrassment at his words. 

He felt her clench around him, and with a low grunt, he started to slam in her harder, deeper.

“I’ll make sure every night, every day, that you won’t be able to use your pretty legs to run off again.” He snarled.

She moaned as she felt the couch starting to squeak under her, the force of his movements was breaking the damn couch.

“Christ — Aemond- Wait-“ She mumbled as she panted.

“Keep begging.” He smiled. “I like that.” 

“The couch —“ She gasped. “It’s breaking -“

“I don’t care about the fucking couch. I’ll buy one where I can fuck you as hard as I want.” He growled, his pace never relenting. “Now come again.”

He threw his head back, trying to hold back his orgasm, waiting for her to come, and basing on how her walls were squeezing him, she was right there.

“Fuck!” She moaned loudly as she came again, waves of pleasure ran through her body, stronger than before, taking her breath from her.

“Yes — Fuck — I’m gonna come —“ He moaned, his pace quickening. “I’m gonna come inside you, wife -“ He panted loudly as he slammed his hips into her one last time, grabbing her hips to pull her back against him, trying to come as deep as he could inside her.

He leaned forward, his body covering hers.

“I don’t want to see a drop come out of you as we walk in the bedroom.”

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Simple Gestures

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> You and Logan, despite getting off on the wrong foot, find yourselves falling in love through simple gestures.

Disclaimer: Mostly cute fluff, an almost kiss in the snow, stargazing, stealing clothes, a little violence in the beginning, a meet ugly, simple gestures of love. Light swearing, happy ending. Not Proof Read.

Yourself and Logan had fallen in love through simple gestures. Although, that wasn’t how it always was. 

In the beginning, neither of you had exactly been in the other’s good books. Though, you supposed that had something to do with what Rogue would call your “meet cute” rather than your individual personalities. 

Your “meet cute” (as Rogue put it) had been when Xavier had first tried to recruit you to join X-Men. 

At the time, you had been living in Colorado and was spending most days either working at the library or working at the local bar. And one evening when you got home, you found three strangers on your veranda meaning they had misread your “Keep Out” sign at the pathway entrance, or had completely elected to ignore it. 

“I don’t know what you’re selling but I’m not buying.” 

You walked through the three of them and their huddle, opened up your screen door, unlocked your front door and slammed both in their faces. 

“Logan,” you heard a British voice sigh before an American one replied with; “I’m on it.”

Maybe he was Canadian?

Either way, he didn’t sound thrilled to be having to do whatever he knew was being asked of him. 

But you soon found out what that was because a few moments later, he was opening up your back door. 

So, as any woman would do when a stranger is ignoring her polite “fuck off, please” and trying to get through the back door of her home. 

You threw a book at him. 

And it wasn’t just any book. 

It was a hardback copy of Kings and Queens of Britain. 

“Wha- Jesus!”

Stumbling back, Logan caught hold of the door frame as his head mended his new found concussion. 

“Get out!” you screamed. 

Finding yourself walking towards him, you were about to shove him out when he noticed what had hit him and before you could throw a punch to his face, he caught your wrist. 

“Whoa, hey, wait. We’re not here to hurt you.”

“Said every intruder ever.”

“Please, Ms Y/l/n.” The British guy was back. “We only wish to talk.”

“Yeah?” You looked around at the three of them before you looked back at the book. Logan’s grip squeezed on your wrist to get your attention. 

He had it. 

“I wouldn’t think about it.”

Glaring from Logan, you turned back to the Brit. “Please. Just five minutes of your time.”

Once more you looked around them and yanked your wrist from Logan’s grip. Turning, you picked up your book and placed it back where you had found it. 

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you grumbled to yourself as you walked further inside. 

The three of them entered and stood around your living room as you walked from your kitchen and back in again. It was more of an open floor plan so they could still see you. Not that you were trying to hide from them. 

“So why are you here? Other than trying to break into my home?”

“We wish to offer you a job,” the woman said. 

“And you are?”

She smiled at you. So far, she was the only one you liked. “Ororo. But you can also call me Storm. And this here is Logan.”

You looked at him. “We’ve met.”

Logan mirrored your look to him. 

“And this is-”

“Professor Charles Xavier.” He introduced himself. 

You nodded. “What sort of job?”

“It’s to be a part of our team. The X-Men.”

You took a gulp of your drink. “And I want to be a part of this…why?”

The Professor rolled forward. “Ms Y/l/n-”

“Y/n.”

The Brit smiled. “Y/n. Our team is made up of some of the best people we know who are like us. Mutants.”

You paused. “Mutants?”

“Ororo here can control the weather. Hence her nickname, Storm. And Logan-”

“Is what? Catwoman? I mean, with the breaking and entering and the little kitty ears for hair, it sure does fit him.” 

Storm chuckled and Logan looked less than amused. The Professor held back his laugh, too. “Actually, Logan is, well…”

Turning his head to look at him, Logan rolled his eyes a little and gave a short sigh before bringing his fist up and clenching it just as metal claws came out. 

You grimaced. “That’s super gross.”

Logan rolled his eyes once more and put his claws away. 

“Like I was saying, our team is made up of mutants, who can help people. And with your reputation preceding you, I figured we might as well come down here and ask you ourselves.”

Looking around them all, you debated the idea. 

“Why me?”

“Your mutant abilities might prove a successful part in building our team.” Ororo explained. “With talents like yours and by joining our team, you’ll be able to help more people than just the locals here. Those in serious danger could use your help, just like they could use ours.”

“And you just expect me to join you? Like that?”

“There are other parts to your job, such as becoming a teacher. I run a school for the gifted. For mutants. To help them earn a well rounded education as well as helping them learn how to control their powers.”

Logan was baffled. “I thought we were here to put her on the team, not give her a teaching position. She can’t be a teacher.”

“Why not?” Storm asked. 

“For one,” Logan gestured to you. “She works in a bar.”

Your arms crossed your chest. “Someone’s been reading my CV.”

“You really think making a bartender a teacher is a good thing?”

Your brows knotted for a moment. “I’ll have you know I do have a teaching degree and working in a bar is only part time. I also work at a library.”

“She has a teaching degree and she’s not even a teacher.”

The Professor shrugged. “This gives her a chance to put it to good use.”

“What will I be teaching?”

“Well, considering your degree is in English and History, you’ll primarily be teaching English to our students.” The Professor smiled. “And you can take some of Logan’s classes as we move closer to final exams for our older students.”

You looked at Logan, a little shocked. From the jeans and leather jacket, you figured he’d teach something like gym or shop. That’s if he was even a teacher and not just hired muscle. 

“You,” you pointed at Logan. “Teach History?”

A little offended by your shock, Logan nodded. “I’ve lived through most of it.”

“How old are you?”

By your tone, Logan was nowhere near being less offended by you.

After more than just a five minute conversation, you agreed to take the job. And six weeks later, you had your things packed, had moved into your new room and was already teaching some new classes. 

However, considering you were already taking one of Logan’s classes a week as he helped the older students prepare for their mock exams, and neither your or Logan had gotten off on the best foot, things were a little…icy. 

“You need to get neater handwriting.” Logan blurted out one afternoon as you were both sitting in the teachers break room. 

“Excuse me?”

Logan practically slammed another paper beside his thigh. “You write like a five year old.”

“Fast handwriting is a sign of intelligence,” you pointed out. 

“Fast, maybe. But illegible isn’t.”

Another paper went down by his side. 

“You know, maybe if you took your time to actually read, you’d be able to see what it said and it wouldn’t look so much like a blur across a page.”

Logan sighed, marking another paper. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”

“Logan, I practically read for a living. I’m living every introvert's dream.”

Logan sighed, shuffling his finished papers. “And I mark for a living. Fixed your handwriting.”

Placing half of the papers back with you, Logan walked out carrying the rest with him. And as he did so, you took the top paper from the pile and read where you had written your feedback for the student. 

“It’s not illegible.”

Six months in, not much had changed. 

You and Logan still held small hostilities to one another. Though, on the handwriting front, Logan stopped mentioning it after three months so either he gave up on ever trying to change your handwriting, or he got used to it enough that he could finally understand it. 

And as time went on, the students started to gather their own opinions on you and Logan, both as individuals but also…

As a couple. 

And it was simply by luck that neither you or Logan had found out about it. 

The first teacher to find out was Storm during one of her classes, to which she mentioned it to Jean who later heard the same from her students before she shared it with Scott in the privacy of their bedroom as they were getting ready for bed one night. 

Soon enough, all the teachers save for you and Logan knew of the group of students “shipping” yourself and Logan. 

But things between you and Logan began to change almost a year into you starting your position at the school. 

“But she’s annoying.”

You already knew Logan was talking about you. Over the course of a year you’d somehow become accustomed to the tone and tune of Logan's voice when he was talking about you. 

“Oh, please,” you grumbled as you entered the Professor’s office, still dressed in your pjs. 

Though, considering you had fallen asleep in lounge wear that consisted of joggers, an old t-shirt and a black hoodie which you were 40% sure had been Logan’s at some point, you figured you could get away with being dressed the way you were at eleven in the morning. 

“I annoy everyone,” you told Logan.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Logan mumbled. 

“You’re nothing special.”

The Professor smiled to himself. Storm and the others would get a kick out of this later. 

“Thank you for joining us.”

“Why aren’t you dressed?”

You drank your coffee. “Not all of us sleep in jeans, Logan.”

“I don’t sleep in jeans.”

“Please, you’re never out of them.”

The Professor cleared his throat. “As I was just telling Logan, since final exams are coming up, I would like you and Logan to work through a plan together for next semester's classes. It seems we have a few more students than we had planned, taking History as an option next year. I’ll leave it to you both to work it out, but when you’ve finished, please give me a copy of your schedule.”

“Oh,” the Professor continued. “And please let it be an actual plan this time, Logan. Not a scribble on the back of a napkin from the kitchens. I’ll make sure the library is free tonight so you can both work without any interruptions.”

So there it was. 

After almost a year, you and Logan were being told to spend time alone together after half of the team had worked their hardest to try and make sure someone else was in the room when it came to you two in fear of you both finally snapping and doing more damage than what an encyclopaedia could do to an adamantium skeleton. 

And when Logan found you that night, he felt something shift. 

Both universally and inside of him. 

Walking into the library, he was expecting to find you absent from your chair. But instead he found you sitting at one of the desks, your ankles crossed beneath your chair, multiple notebooks around the place, two pencils in your hair, one between your teeth, pens across the desk (some without caps) and you frantically searching for something. 

On one of the smaller tables behind the sofa, Logan found a familiar notebook which he knew belonged to you, flipped open onto a page. 

Somehow in the past couple of months he’d become fluent in you. From comparing your handwriting to that of a five year old, it wasn’t long until he began to pick out words and eventually became a master in your handwriting. 

Even the others came to him, most of the time shoving your note in front of him and asking him to read it. 

“Looking for this?”

You looked up at Logan and gave a look of relief. “I thought I’d left it upstairs.”

You took it from him. “Thank you. Now where did I put my pen?”

In a similar fit of desperation, you started looking around for your pen, but something made Logan smile. Leaning across the desk, his palm on top of a couple of sheets of loose paperwork, he raised his other hand and you stopped. 

“What? What is it?”

Reaching up and behind you, you felt Logan pull something from your hair before he presented it to you with a soft smirk. 

“Is this what you are looking for?”

You looked from the pen to Logan and back to the pen before plucking it from his fingers. “Thanks.”

Logan watched as your gaze flicked from his back to your work. He stood up. “What’s all this?”

“Just things for lessons. Oh, uh, here.”

You pulled a different notepad from beneath the chaotic pile. “This is my plan for the lessons next semester. Tell me what you think.”

Logan watched as you went back to scribbling before he opened up the notepad and read through it. 

“This is good. I can take a couple more classes closer to Christmas, though. Kids’ are gonna need you for the English exams.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“How long have you been sitting here?”

You shrugged before holding down the paper you were writing on, almost like it was about to fly away. “Couple hours. I’m almost done.”

Logan looked from you and back to the pad. “I can take more lessons before Spring Break, too.”

Picking up one of the uncapped pens, Logan made his adjustments to your plan before pulling out a chair and sitting across from you. 

And for the first time, there was peace between yourself and Logan. He used your notepad to draw up a copy for the Professor on his laptop whilst you finished up your rougher lesson plans for the next couple of weeks. 

It was in the moments Logan looked at you, sitting across from him, that he felt something shift. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but somehow, rather than arguing with you over the fact you were wearing his hoodie that had gone missing a few months ago, he found himself admiring you in it. How cosy you looked. How warm and comforted you looked. 

And something sparked in him when he realised something of his brought you that. 

Time pressed on and those civil moments that seemed to be saved for one day out of the year, became less and less rare. 

In fact, you now found yourself looking forward to spending time with Logan. 

A sentence you never thought possible. 

You’d spent so long bickering and fighting and glaring at each other over the smallest things, that you’d both failed to realise that you could actually be quite good friends.

At the beginning of the new academic year, the students and even some of the teachers thought someone had lost complete control of their power and had set something on you and Logan. 

But no. 

You had both simply…made friends. 

Now rather than frosty mornings spent poking fun at each other, mornings were calm and a little warmer. Of course, you and Logan still bickered occasionally. Mainly when you had pointed out the change in your dynamic. 

“No, this is too weird.”

“What’s too weird?”

“Us,” you gestured between yourself and Logan. “We’re friends.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

You almost whimpered. “Don’t you find it weird?”

“That we’ve gone from not being allowed alone in a room together to being friends?” 

You nodded. 

“No.”

Logan continued hanging up the posters around your classroom. 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes you can agree with me?”

He nodded. “I know. But it is fun watching you squirm.”

“I don’t squirm.”

“You’re squirming right now because rather than bickering, which we are still doing, we’re friends.”

 You sighed and handed Logan another poster. 

Soon the days began to feel like they were bleeding into one until finally Christmas break came around and you found yourself sitting in the kitchen on a snowy day, eating some soup. 

“What is it?”

Logan had walked in to find you looking at your soup with a confused look. 

“Something’s missing.”

Less than twenty seconds later, Logan dumped some crackers beside your bowl. That’s what was missing. 

“You’re missing snow day, by the way.”

You dipped one into your soup and ate it. “I’ll be out later. If I can just find my hoodie.”

“You mean my hoodie?”

“It became my hoodie a long time ago,” you told Logan. 

Then you watched as he smirked a little before walking out of the kitchen and towards the laundry room. When he returned, he was carrying the black hoodie and handed it to you. It was still warm. 

“You left it in the library the other night after you spilled some milk down it. So I washed it.”

You smiled, almost vibrating in your seat with excitement to have a freshly washed and warm hoodie. It warmed you instantly, for more than just being fresh out of the dryer. 

A few hours later, it was keeping you warmer still as you were being pelted with snowballs by a couple of the students and eventually found yourself being chased by Logan down the field after you had sent one flying to the back of his head causing it to run down the back of his clothes. 

He caught you, spinning you both before you both found yourself rolling in the snow. Except, as you both came to a stop, Logan was flat on his back, his arms still around you and you were lying against his chest, your faces mere inches away from each other. 

And as the laughter died down and the smiles remained, you felt something shift. 

Looking from Logan’s eyes, you own dropped to his mouth for a moment before coming back up again. And you couldn’t help but notice he did the same with you. Suddenly, his hands that had kept you steady were now creeping across your back and his touch was practically seeping into your skin. 

Only, before anything could happen, you were both hit with a snowball. 

“Come on you two, we’re dying out here!” Rogue yelled before narrowly missing a snowball being thrown at her. 

You and Logan laughed before scrambling to your feet and heading back into the game. 

Later that evening as you and Logan were doing the last rounds of the school, you’d found a couple of kids fast asleep in their pjs, clearly having snuck out of bed at the last minute to watch the late night snowfall. 

Yourself and Logan carried them back to bed, you shutting the light off as Logan closed the door quietly. And as he bid you goodnight, a part of you couldn’t help but wish that you weren’t going off to a different room, two hallways down from him. 

However, it was only a few mornings later when Logan came and woke you earlier in the morning than usual to bring you down to breakfast where everyone was up and ready for the day. It was a surprise field trip and by the time you had gone back to your room to get dressed, you gave a small yelp as you opened the door back up to find Logan already standing there. His fist was held up, just getting ready to knock on. 

“Jesus, Logan. Give a girl a word of warning before you go to knock her out.”

Logan chuckled a little. “You ready?”

You grabbed your bag. “Yeah, let's go.”

The day was fun but it was long and after spending half of the night convincing yourself of “one more chapter, then sleep” – it was safe to say you were knackered. 

So when Logan pressed his hand to your head and brought it down to rest on his shoulder as he leaned back, you didn’t protest. 

Only, since your eyes were closed, you had missed the small smile on his face when he noticed you were nodding off and the comfortable sigh that left him when he realised you were fast asleep against him. 

Halfway back to the school, he’d felt you shiver a little. 

“Rogue?”

She pulled out her headphones and looked back at him. “Yeah?”

“There’s a blanket in the cabin above your head. Pass it to me.”

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she did so, but took time to take in the picture before her as Logan covered both himself and you up as you slept. 

“What?”

Rogue just smiled, “Nothing.”

And she sat back down. And for as much as Logan wondered what Rogue meant by her smile, the thought left his head when he looked back down at you and you snuggled in closer to him. 

Once you all finally got back, Logan led you to your bedroom and slipped the shoes off your feet as you climbed under your covers. But as he went to walk away, you reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. 

And for a moment, he soaked it all in. 

The feeling of you holding his hand. The feeling of you falling asleep against him. The feeling of you. 

Until you let go.

It was only a few months later that you held onto his hand again, except this time you were fully conscious and didn’t let go until after the plane had landed. 

You had known Logan was afraid of flying since you first met him. You’d gotten onto that plane to take a short tour around the school before you officially accepted the job. Only, as you stepped onto the plane, you noticed Logan became tenser. And when it finally took off, he seemed like he was either wishing to pass out or he was gonna puke. 

“You’re afraid of flying.” You said almost with a smile, delighted to find out that the gruff man you’d thrown a book at merely an hour before, was afraid of something. 

Logan's stomach churned. “If man was meant to fly, he’d grow wings.”

You leaned back watching him with a smile. “Some already have.”

Logan just looked at you and tried to put his focus elsewhere. 

Knowing this, and finally being his friend, you found a seat next to him. The flight was going to be a long one. 

“How can you be afraid of flying? Weren’t you in the army for like…a gazillion years?” You asked as you boarded on with him. 

“You try nearly dying each time you get in one of these things, see how bad you’re itching to get back in one again.”

Logan put his bag in the compartment at the back before taking yours and placing it with his. As he buckled his seatbelt, you found difficulty with yours and just as you were about to give up or, at the very least, swear at the inanimate object, Logan’s body turned and helped you do it up. 

“These can be tricky.”

He clipped it together. “Thanks.”

He looked at you before sitting back in his seat, trying to find something to concentrate on as the jet started to lift. 

Only, his search to find something else became distracted when your hand reached across and held onto his. And for a moment, he was shocked. And then he smiled. And relaxed a little. With a little bit of turbulence, he squeezed your hand but never enough to truly hurt. 

But you never let go. 

And when the jet finally landed and you both found tarmac under your feet, you felt the climate hit you a lot more than you had been expecting. Except, less than a minute later, the familiar scent of Logan surrounded you and you found his jacket spreading over your shoulders. 

You smiled, letting your senses drown in his scent and warmth before you slipped your arms through the holes and found your way to your intended location. 

A week later, you were all sitting around in the living room, reading different things or watching TV. However, Logan lay on the sofa with his head in your lap, slowly dozing off to the sound of the TV, you turning your book pages every now and again and your heartbeat which only seemed to be amplified when he pressed his ear to your leg, hearing the blood rush around your body. 

By the time he woke up, everyone had disappeared, the lamps were on, the TV was on low and you were sitting on the floor, not too far from his head, going through a small pile of essays. 

“Hey.”

His voice sounded a little rougher than usual. You turned your head and smiled. It wasn’t often you got to see sleepy Logan, let alone comfortable Logan. 

“What are you doing?”

“Just some marking. Ooh, now you're awake, can you read what this says?”

Logan took the paper from you and looked at it. “This is your handwriting.”

“I know but I can’t tell what it says.”

But Logan could. 

You thanked him before taking the paper back. “Sometimes I think you know my handwriting better than I know my handwriting. Case in point.”

“You’re your own language.”

You smiled. “And after a year, you’re an expert. Maybe you missed your calling. Logan, the Language teacher. Read and speak in English, grunts, kitty cat and my handwriting.”

Logan groaned, trying to hide his smile. He was still waking up. His muscles couldn’t fight it off just yet. “I’m not a cat.”

“You have quite literal claws.”

“I’m Wolverine.”

You jokingly scoffed. “You’re a cat. But it’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

Logan just rolled his eyes with his smile and brought his hand over to cover your mouth. “You done?”

You eventually nodded and went back to marking the essays whilst Logan simply watched you. 

He’d found himself doing more of that recently; watching you. Not in a stalker kinda way- at least, he hoped not. But just small things you did in the day. Grading papers, scribbling on paper, walking down the hallway and somehow avoiding every pillar and post on the way despite your nose being buried deep inside whatever book you were reading. 

And he’d noticed more things about you, too. 

How you walked, how you moved. And when you were in the zone, it was almost like watching you dance. You knew what you were doing, ten steps ahead of time. You’d caught more students talking and passing notes more than even he had. 

Some days, when he was on his lunch break, he’d sneak into the back of your classroom. The class would be fully engrossed in whatever it was you were talking about, so he mostly went unnoticed. So, he’d pull up a chair at the back and sit in the sea of students. 

And when he forced himself to pay attention to what you were saying, rather than just checking you out and watching you, he managed to learn a thing or two. 

It was also on some of those days, you’d find a protein bar and a coffee at your desk by the time you returned back to class. 

For another year, these small gestures continued. You, holding his hand during a plane ride, him bringing you coffee and a snack, both of you falling asleep on each other, him routinely finding lost pens and pencils that most of the time were stuck in your hair or behind you ear. Even going so far as to bring each other meals when you knew the other had missed one. 

That was how the “dates” started. Sometimes in the library, other times in the kitchen or out in the garden. If one of you was missing for a meal, the other would wrap leftovers on a plate. 

Across a couple of these nights, some of the students had gone unnoticed when passing the rooms. Because, when you and Logan looked at each other, everything else faded away. 

And then one night everything changed. 

Everything went from the small moments and small gestures and a friendship that made you question if that’s all you wanted when it came to Logan, to both of you confronting your questions with the answers you’d both known, deep down, for a long time. 

Or maybe it was just one answer. 

“Yes.”

Logan turned and found Rogue leaning in the hallway. He placed down the photo frame he’d been holding. 

“I was just looking at some pictures. Found one of you.”

Logan picked up a second and held it out for her to see. “Cute. But, I don’t think that’s why you were looking here.”

Rogue put the photo down and picked up the familiar frame. The picture Logan had just been holding. 

“You know, if you asked her, she’d probably say yes.”

Logan put the photo back down. “Say yes to what?”

“You know what.”

“No, I don’t.”

Rogue gave a smirk as she watched Logan walk away. And she followed after him. 

“You can’t just run away from feelings, you know. They’re inside of you. Unless you can outrun your own skin, you can’t leave them behind.”

Logan looked at her. “Don’t you have a class to be in?”

“My final exam is tomorrow.”

Logan pushed open the door. “Then shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Giving my eyes a break.” Rogue hopped down the steps behind him. “It’s just a date, Logan. Everyone already knows you’ve completed steps 4 through 20. Just need to complete the first three.”

“Three?”

Rogue followed Logan into the garage. “Ask her out on a date, first kiss and first…time.”

Rogue smiled up at Logan a little, watching him blush a little before awkwardly walking away. “I forget you’re old enough to know about stuff like that.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just sex, Logan. But the more important part here is step one. Asking her out on a date.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Step twenty.” Rogue told him. “You’re in love with her.”

Logan paused what he was doing and turned to look at Rogue. “Logan, you can’t just keep running away each time you feel something for someone.”

“I’m not running away.”

“Then where are you going?”

“To the store. We need some things.”

Rogue sighed, getting back to her point. “Look, I get your whole “lone wolf” act, but you keep forgetting something.”

“Really? And what’s that?”

“A lone wolf can still find a pack. Better yet, build one of their own.” 

Logan took in Rogue’s expression as she held onto the door on the other side of the truck. He sighed. 

“Do you need anything from the store?”

“Period pads.”

By the time Logan got back from the store, it was almost nightfall. He left the bag of products inside Rogue’s door before he headed into the kitchen and found it…quiet.

“Where is everyone?” Logan asked as he put the milk away. 

You looked over your shoulder from the stove. “Jean and Scott are out on a date, Ororo took the kids out with the Professor. Last minute deal – they get to spend a night inside a museum.”

“Anyone else home?”

You shook your head. “Just us.”

“So,” Logan eventually found his seat across the kitchen island from you. “What do you want to do?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t really have a plan outside making dinner and eating outside.”

So that’s what you both ended up doing. Sitting outside, under the stars, backlit by the lights from the kitchen, eating dinner. 

Logan washed up inside, looking over his shoulder every now and again to see you stood outside, looking up at the sky. 

“You know, back home you could see all the stars. I think I was about ten when I finished mapping out all the constellations I could see.”

Logan leaned against the backdoor, listening to you explain. Then with a smile and a kick of his feet, he made his way over to you. 

“Here.”

“What?”

Logan opened up his jacket for you and you thanked him quietly as he helped you slip it on. It was big, the sleeves managing to cover your hands more than your own jackets did. 

Twirling you around, Logan pulled the jacket close by the collar and you found yourself inches from him. 

“Figured you’d get cold.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

And for a while, you both just looked at each other. You’d noticed Logan always had this look on his face when he looked at you. You just couldn’t pin it. But then it shifted. Like you could see the cogs turning in his head, but he had come to a conclusion before you could ask. 

“What?”

“Do you want to go on a date?”

You felt yourself reel back a little, trying to decide if he was bullshitting you or not. And it took a moment or two, but once you realised he was being serious you said…

“Yes.”

“With me?”

You nodded with a smile. “I’d love to.”

“Are you sure?” Logan asked, his hands still holding onto the jacket. 

You raised your brow slightly. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“Good.” You gave a short nod before looking back at him. “I like a man who knows what he wants.”

Brushing the hair from your face to behind your ear, Logan smiled. And so did you. Feeling his warmth through his palm as he caressed your face, he drew you in. 

And when his lips finally met yours, something seemed to click into place. 

That feeling that had been growing inside of you, ever since you saw him for the first time when he’d pulled the pen from your hair all those nights ago, was finalised. 

This had been the shift. This was the change. You’d both taken a step forward without realising it and had found not only comfort but love in each other's presence. 

“Are you busy now?”

You shrugged, your arms looping around the back of Logan’s neck. “Depends. What for?”

“For our date.”

“Now?” You asked, a little shocked. 

Logan nodded. “Come with me.”

Holding onto his hand, he hurried you down the stone steps and towards the garden. You laughed. 

“Logan, slow down. Where are we going?”

He smiled. “You’ll see.”

And you did. 

He’d taken you to the greenhouse, climbing up the spiralling staircase and out onto the small rooftop. 

Looking up to the sky, you took in a breath. 

“It’s gorgeous.”

You were in amazement. The greenhouse was far enough away from the school that none of the lights from it polluted your vision. The sky was as clear as it had ever been and you felt like you could see for miles on end. Most of it was woodland, covered with a blanket of stars. 

It was one of the most extraordinary things you had seen in a long time. 

However, when you looked to find Logan to gauge his reaction, you just found him looking at you. 

[feeder86]

The Neighbor's Boy

“So, do you want to tell us what the fuck is going on?” laughed Martin as Nick’s new boyfriend headed away to the bathroom.

Nick smirked and sat back in the chair, filling his broad, muscular chest with air and looking around at all the chubby boys’ expressions. “What?” he teased, pretending not to know what they were all so surprised about. “Duncan’s a nice guy.”

“But you don’t date nice guys,” Martin countered. “In order to date nice guys, you need to be a nice guy yourself.”

“Ouch!” Nick chuckled, enjoying his bad boy status with the guys. Despite his kind eyes and pretty face, Nick was never without an ulterior motive. “That hurt!” he lied, looking around and seeing even the guy behind the bar checking him out. “I’ll have you know that lots of people think I’m a very ‘nice’ person!”

“That’s because they don’t know you like we do,” Ben contributed, looking around at all of the other chubs in their circle. “And I bet sweet little Duncan doesn’t even know you’re a feeder, does he?”

Nick raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Of course he doesn’t.”

The chubs all looked at each other disapprovingly, despite the kinky thrill they secretly felt. Each one of them owed a good few pounds of their own blubbery physiques to Nick and his incredible ability to arouse them whilst they ate for him; the best and most skilled feeder they had ever come across. “You’re not going to fatten up him are you?” Martin asked. “Not without him knowing?”

“I’ve already started,” Nick laughed. “I got seven thousand calories in him the other day and he barely even noticed.”

“Nick!” Ben sighed. “That’s not cool!”

“I am what I am!” Nick sniggered unapologetically. “I see a little skinny shit like Duncan and my dick tells me I’ve got to feed him until he’s got some decent tits and a proper double chin on him!”

“Why him, though?” Ian asked. “He seems so sweet and innocent.”

Nick shrugged. “My parents were trying to set me up, saying they were sick of all the ‘mysterious guys’ I seemed to date,” he laughed. “Duncan’s family lived on my parents’ street and he’s just come back from college. I remember him as the little gay kid that used to stare out of the window whenever I was mowing my parents’ lawn shirtless at the end of high school,” he smirked, having been the focus on many sexual fantasies for several years now. “I didn’t have much to do with Duncan back then. He’s a couple of years younger than me. But Duncan’s dad was the fattest guy on our street, so of course I had a crush on him growing up. Now his mom is quite friendly with my mom and they’re trying their best to get us together.” he laughed at the idea. These fat boys knew him best in the whole world. Anyone with a real sense of who Nick really was would keep their handsome sons far away from him. “I thought dating Duncan would be a great opportunity to show my parents that they need to keep their noses out of my love life.”

“So, you’re dating him and secretly fattening him up to teach your parents a lesson about interfering?” Martin asked, exasperated.

“Pretty much,” Nick nodded. “Once they see the boy sprouting a little gut, they’ll soon realise the mistake they’ve made. It won’t take any of them long to work out who was responsible. I am a feeder after all…,” he whispered, spotting Duncan making his way back from the bathroom and sitting back up again. “That sounds incredible!” Nick lamented, as if they had been discussing something completely different the entire time.

“What does?” Duncan asked curiously, assuming that the boys were in the middle of a riveting conversation.

“Martin was just saying about this amazing donut place we need to try out later,” Nick lied. 

“Oh, yeah?” Duncan smiled over at Martin. “Sounds good. I love donuts.”

The boys all looked at each other guiltily, none of them willing to sound the alarm bells to Nick’s new lover; now all equally complicit in the whole wicked business.

“Your friends are so great,” Duncan smiled, getting into the back of the cab whilst holding the large box of donuts Nick had bought him.

“And they really liked you,” Nick smiled, taking the box from him and ripping it open for Duncan to try one. 

“They’re not at all how I imagined,” Duncan replied, nibbling on one without a second thought. “I remember you always hung out with the jock crowd in high school.”

Nick smirked to himself. Clearly Duncan hadn’t even recognised Martin as being one of those high school jocks he used to hang out with; now a full one hundred and sixty pounds fatter than in those days, thanks to him. “I choose my friends based upon how fun they are, rather than how they look,” he lied innocently, already picking up and handling Duncan’s next donut.

“I really like that about you,” Duncan smiled. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, before the pair kissed gently.

Nick stroked his lover’s hair as the third and fourth donuts mindlessly disappeared down Duncan’s throat during their short journey back to his place. Duncan was the son of a fatty alright. That greed was inside there, waiting to be enabled. “Perhaps…” he teased, closing the lid on the donut box, “you could eat the rest of these off my dick when we get back?”

Duncan nodded keenly. Nick had started introducing food into their foreplay last week and it had gone down well ever since. It was so obvious that Dunan had been fantasising about being with Nick since he was a teenager and first realised he was gay. It was almost pathetically simple to make him climax and he’d slipped into a more submissive role in the bedroom with ease. 

The naive boy kissed his manipulative lover, not even realising that the guy was adding up all his calories and hoping that today could be a new record.

Over the next few weeks, Duncan became a sucker for the romance: the hand holding, Nick sitting him on his knee and holding him prtotectively around the waist. The guy’s friends thought that Nick was the sweetest man on Earth; his mother made up that Duncan had found someone so openly affectionate. It all helped to mask the gradual softening that was happening all over Duncan’s body; the glutes swelling just a little more each time Nick ploughed his dick between them.

“You got your protein shake?” Nick asked as the pair of them headed off to the gym, where Duncan would spend the majority of his time spotting Nick on the weights and lifting the bare minimum himself. Yet, he would still flush down Nick’s bespoke shake, filled with creams, oils and powders for a truly staggering daily calorie overdose.

Duncan nodded. He’d never been in such a thrilling relationship as this; never experienced a kinky fuck in the cubicles after a workout at the gym, nor been lavished with such open affection in any of his previous romances. The love, the pampering, the endless sex acting as the perfect smoke screen for what was actually happening beneath the surface. Duncan simply threw the shake into his gym bag and then followed his lover out without a second thought.

Dating Duncan was having its advantages. Having parents who were quietly very comfortable had always given Nick a fair amount of entitlement. However, despite never going without as he was growing up, his parents had given him a large dose of tough love once he left college. The easy line of credit had been cut off and Nick’s parents had decided he needed to make it on his own in order to learn the true value of things. Now their hard approach seemed to be easing, given how pleased they were to see him dating someone they approved of so much. In the last month alone, they had thrown a whole heap of cash at repairs for the sports car they had bought Nick for his twenty-first, as well as transferring plenty of money to pay for a romantic getaway in the mountains. The purse strings were well and truly opened again.

“Do you think I’ve put on weight?” Dunan asked, rubbing his stomach in the mirror one evening as he got up to get a glass of water.

Nick managed to keep a straight face. The answer was more than obvious from the direction he was looking: doughy glutes, swollen thighs and budding love-handles; Duncan was well and truly morphing into a chub. “Of course,” Nick replied. “Your shoulders look much bigger after all those workouts,” he lied.

“No, not that,” Duncan shot back, studying his stomach and pinching a little. “Do you think I’m getting fat?”

Nick got up and slipped off his underwear. He’d been considering how best to answer this question for some time. “Why don’t I take a look?” he smiled teasingly, letting his hardness press between Duncan’s butt cheeks; its second home. “Mmm, yes!” he moaned. “There’s definitely an improvement back here,” he whispered.

“An improvement?” Duncan asked in surprise.

“Of course!” Nick whispered. “You like getting fucked, right?” 

Duncan nodded; his own dick starting to stiffen as his muscular boyfriend started to slap lubricant between his cheeks.

“Well, guys like me always prefer to fuck a guy with a little more meat back here.” He pressed himself inside and moaned with appreciation and he swayed his hips into action. “Mmm, fuck!” he sighed, watching as Duncan’s arousal grew even as he had just admitted to him that he was indeed starting to get chubby.

“You really like it?” Duncan whispered back just as Nick’s lubricated hand slipped onto his dick at the same time. “You’re not just saying that?”

Nick continued thrusting as if his lust prevented him from doing anything else. “You want me to enjoy fucking you, right? Can’t you feel how extra hard my dick is today?” he breathed into Duncan’s ear.

Duncan moaned in arousal.

“I’m going to finish so fast…” Nick added next, holding his boyfriend’s hardness at the same time and sensing that he had absolute control of the situation. “Keep spreading those big, delicious butt cheeks for me!”

Duncan leaned forward and pressed himself into Nick’s groin, submitting himself more than he knew..

“Well, boys… what do you think?” Nick asked after sending Duncan off to buy some cotton candy as the rest of them meandered around the funfair.

Nick’s chubby friends all looked at each other, then back at Duncan’s enlarged rear as he queued up by the stall. “I can’t believe he hasn’t even noticed yet,” Ben replied.

Nick sighed in frustration. These fatties really didn’t understand anything. “Of course he’s noticed, you idiot!” he growled. “You can’t gain thirty-five pounds and not notice! Not when you’re as skinny as Duncan used to be!”

“Thirty-five pounds?” Martin asked. “Is it really that much?”

“Easily,” Nick chuckled. He could estimate a guy’s weight better than anyone else he had ever met. “And not an ounce of it has been muscle!” he smirked. “Just take a look at those love handles if you don’t believe me.”

“How the fuck are you still getting away with this?” Ian asked, bewildered as he saw Duncan scratching his stomach in the queue for cotton candy.

“Easy,” Nick shrugged. “Bombard a simple boy with pure pleasure, then sit back and watch. It’s really not rocket science. All boys are pigs if you know what you’re doing. And, you know me, I’ve never struggled to put weight on anyone before; as I’m sure your blubbery thighs can attest to,” he winked at Martin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Adam jumped in. “How much longer until he works out what you’re really up to and dumps you?”

Nick looked over at Duncan in the queue and waved sweetly. “I’d say I’ve got at least another fifty pounds or so before that happens,” he chuckled to the boys. “The greedy little fucker is hardly the brightest I’ve ever come across.”

Without even realising it, the other guys were a great help to increase Duncan’s calories that day. Collectively, they gorged and snacked the entire time as Nick sat back and watched. It was what he loved best about feeding. It wasn’t just about stuffing someone until they nearly puked; it was about the long term training and habit-forming he had programmed into all of them, ensuring that they ate, almost mindlessly, the entire time.

“I’ve got such a boner after watching you eating that hot dog…” Nick whispered to Duncan later that evening, adjusting his pants. “You were practically deep throating it,” he teased.

Duncan grinned. ”Well, you know how good I am at taking something long and thick into my mouth…” he teased back, thinking he knew the game that his lover was playing. He believed he was being playful and seductive, yet he was so far off the mark, it was laughable.

“Here,” Nick smiled, slipping Duncan a note. “Go get yourself another… I want to watch your mouth work and imagine what you’re going to do to me later,” he lied, patting Duncan on his doughy little rear. “Then, when we get home, I’m going to pull out the whipped cream and make you lick it all off me!”

Duncan raised his eyebrows and smiled with excitement. Then, off he went to do as he was told, nursing his own semi at the same time.

It was only in the pictures from that day that Nick really noticed how well Duncan’s double chin was starting to come in. Duncan had never exactly been on a par with him, looks-wise. But with the arrival of the chin and the bloated middle, at last Nick felt like he was dating a real chub once more, sending his arousal into overdrive. He found more and more cunning ways to ensure Duncan continued to overeat and, as the holidays arrived, Duncan had let himself go even more than Nick had ever expected. Suddenly, all those sweatpants Nick had quietly been adding to Duncan’s wardrobe began paying off; the larger shirts and cute underwear that would have been far too big for the guy back when they first got together.

“I’m thinking of asking Duncan to move in with me,” Nick explained to his parents one evening. This wasn’t the sort of life decision he usually made with his parents, but considering how much they were into this relationship, their support was bound to come with a nice big cheque for something or other.

Nick’s mother breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful news!” she beamed. “I thought you were going to tell us something else then!” she laughed, looking across at Nick’s dad.

“Like what?” Nick asked, curious.

“I thought you were about to tell us that it was all over between you both!” she chuckled, still looking nothing but relieved. “We noticed that Duncan’s put on a few pounds recently and we thought… Uh oh! Nick’s not going to be happy about that.”

“You thought I would finish with Duncan just because he’s gained a few pounds?” Nick asked, realising just how little his parents actually understood him. How many of his chubby boyfriends had they met in the past? “You really think I’m that shallow?” he asked, pretending to feel hurt. That was, until his parents finally offered to consider buying one of the new condos by the river for Nick and Duncan to live in together; so much more convenient than the poky little apartment Nick was in right now.

The chubs were shocked when Nick told them his plans. Adam, in particular, thought he was taking things too far. Sure, Nick had some fun fattening up his boyfriend when they were dating, but moving in with Duncanwould be entirely different. Now he would be able to manipulate everything that Duncan ate all day and all night long. And, from the horny way that Nick spoke about it, it was clear that he was going to take advantage of every opportunity that came his way.

“You really sneak all this stuff into his food?” Adam asked, gazing at the hidden supplies in the cupboard.

“Pretty much,” Nick nodded, smiling as he looked around his new kitchen. “Have you seen these?” he asked, picking up a pair of Ducan’s freshly washed work pants from the laundry basket. “Thirty eight inch waist already!”

“I’m guessing these are his as well?” Martin asked, picking up a jock strap.

“Absolutely!” Nick laughed. “You should see the way they cut into the little pig’s love handles! It never fails to make me explode!”

“Jeez! Look at all this shit!” Ben cried as he opened the refrigerator.

Nick’s face lit up again and his eyes twinkled with devilment as Ben pulled out one fattening product and ingredient after another. “Fat boy is living the dream, right?” he smiled. “And check out this!” he blasted, opening the freezer drawer and extracting a giant tub of ice cream. “Liquid gold, this stuff!” he joked. “The pig can’t resist it and it puts weight on him like nothing else. You wait until you see him. He’s like you, Adam. A similar sort of shape when you started getting fat; a tight, stout little belly. And his face! Oh my goodness! It’s just suddenly started looking chubby as fuck! Do you remember when it happened to you, Martin? Your face and cheeks seemed to just blow up? In less than a week you looked totally different. It’s exactly the same with Duncan right now.”

The chubs all looked at each other. Nick had been there during each one of their initial forays into gaining, and he was the reason why each of them continued to relish putting on more and more weight, even now.

“So this is where the magic happens?” Ian asked, as he was led into Nick and Duncan’s new bedroom.

Nick shook his head and laughed. “The magic happens wherever I want it to happen,” he boasted. “We may have only been here four weeks, but there’s no room or flat surface I haven’t fucked my little piggy on.”

The chubs all pulled a face, pretending to be repulsed by Nick’s crudeness, despite the arousal that they actually felt. Each one of them had been fucked and fed by him during their time. That was, before Duncan came along.

By the time Duncan arrived home from work, there was a wealth of take out on offer in the lounge, with Nick standing up brightly to greet his lover whilst the four chubby guys were draped over the sofas like bloated seals. After hugging him, Nick stood back and allowed the eyes of the chubs to check Duncan out. He could see their eyes wandering to exactly where he wanted: Duncan’s chubby chin, his pot belly and broader butt. How exciting it was to show him off like this! Nick fussed about him, fetching him a plate and a cool beer whilst he settled down with the other boys.

Grazing was one of Duncan’s weaknesses. A large buffet dinner like this always resulted in him eating more than usual. Even as the pizzas and chicken pieces went cool, the boy was still nibbling away as he chatted. He slipped off his tie and supped on the beer until a little opening formed between the buttons on his shirt, a tight bloat starting to take hold of his portly stomach.

“I’m hoping I can pull a few strings and get Duncan a new job with one of my friends,” Nick commented next, as Duncan began complaining about his boss. “He works so hard and just gets more and more responsibilities piled on top of him without any extra pay. It’s not fair.”

“I’ve got my fingers crossed,” Duncan nodded in agreement. “A new job would be so handy right now. As much as I like being able to walk to work, I think I’m ready for a change.”

The chubs all eyed Nick knowingly. Was this yet another cunning way to ensure that Duncan got the least amount of exercise possible? Back in the early days, Nick had manipulated all their lifestyles in a similar fashion, and their waistlines had rapidly paid the price. It burned the question in all their minds: Just how much further could Nick take this gain?

“You’ve been to the gym already?” Duncan asked a couple of weeks later as he groggily rubbed his eyes one Saturday morning.

“Of course I have,” Nick smiled, pumping his bicep. “It was chest day. You know that’s my favorite!” he winked, ripping off his compression shirt and throwing his muscular body down onto the bed with his now easily 240lb boyfriend. He kissed him keenly until he could feel Duncan really getting into it. That was the moment he pulled out. “I’m going to make you some breakfast,” he teased,” reaching his hand onto the boy’s wider rear, “then I’m going to fuck you silly…” he growled.

“Does it have to be in that specific order?” Duncan smiled back, throwing his leg over and spreading his naked butt so temptingly, as if he didn’t understand how, these days, his oversized, wobbly glutes would have put most guys off. Duncan was not the cute little thing he used to be.

Nick growled in lust, sliding his hand onto the boy’s butt and slapped it playfully, watching the fresh blubber ripple. “Breakfast first,” he smiled, resisting temptation, jumping back up energetically to start frying things up for his underexercised lover.

A few weeks later, Nick’s buddy, Martin, had met him in town for lunch. Ever since the pair had dated in high school, the guy had slowly been swelling up fatter and fatter. After understanding their shared attraction to weight gain, Nick had been the one to draw it out of him, with those initial sixty pounds being down to his own hard work and dedication to the cause. It was where Nick had learned his craft as a feeder; utilising the knowledge he had acwuired with the many, many gainers he had fattened up since.

Despite Martin’s athletic beginnings on the football team, there was not a trace of it left any longer. The guy was surprisingly pear shaped and soft all over; with every part of him coated in blubber. Martin had hit three hundred and fifty pounds last year and was still continuing to balloon up with the help of several other feeders Nick had sent his way. As usual, he was wearing clothes that appeared far too tight; his drooping stomach starting to show itself underneath his too-short t-shirt. Nick enjoyed standing back and watching the looks his friend got as they walked around together; his very favourite hobby.

“You know, I almost forgot how much I LOVE a giant fat ass on a guy,” Nick rambled as the pair of them walked to a free bench at the park. “Duncan had almost no ass at all when I asked him out. Then it started getting nice and peachy, and I thought I was so turned on by it; like my dick was never going to be flaccid ever again! But now…” he swooned, turned on just to be saying these things aloud. “...Now it’s properly FAT! Like two doughy mounds of lard! You should see the way it jiggles and moves; how wide it’s getting and how it’s spreading out! Fuck, man!”

“Hence the doughnuts,” Martin chuckled, motioning to the little bag of premium treats Nick had just picked up to take home with him later. “You do realise there are a lot more calories in the regular ones Duncan eats?” he reminded his friend.

Nick shrugged. “Duncan tends to prefer these ones. I know they’re a lot more expensive, but my little fat ass is definitely worth it,” he laughed.

“So it’s finally happened then!” Martin smirked, breathing a sigh of relief as they made it to the bench. “I never got expensive treats like those when we dated. You’re so fucked now, you know that, right?”

Nick turned in surprise. “Fucked?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Because I spent extra money on donuts?”

“I’ve seen this coming for months. The way you are around Duncan; finishing his sentences and fussing after him. You’ve properly fallen in love, haven’t you? Nick Bowlins: the feeder with a heart of stone, has actually fallen for one of his fatties!”

Nick shook his head. “No. It’s not like that at all!” he shot back, surprisingly offended by the idea. “I know this isn’t a long-term thing. I’ve been secretly fattening him for months waiting until he finally realises and dumps me. I headed into this with realistic expectations.”

“And that’s what makes this all the more tragic,” Martin laughed. “You’ve schemed yourself into a corner. You even pulled all those strings to make sure your friend got him that new job. You’ve played your games and ensured he piles on the weight, but you know he’ll never forgive you once he figures it all out. And when that happens, he’s going to break your little heart.”

“I’m not discussing this,” Nick stated, standing up and checking his watch for the time.

“Ouch! I’ve touched a nerve!” Martin sang with delight. “This is pure karma you realise? Secretly fatten up your boyfriend’s ass and you’re going to end up getting bitten on yours!”

Nick rolled his eyes and started walking off. He hated how jealous Martin was these days, now that they didn’t casually fuck like they used to. Although Nick hadn’t entered into a relationship with Duncan with the intention of staying monogamous, that was exactly what had happened. He just hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else. So, how would he feel when all this was over? Because Martin was right about one thing: this whole relationship was definitely heading for an inevitable conclusion. Maybe Nick would be the one who came off worse.

“You know I love you, right?” Nick asked, cuddling Duncan extra tight as he spooned him in bed the next morning.

Duncan chuckled softly and rubbed Nick’s strong arms that held him so firmly. “I know,” he replied, smiling happily. “I love you too.”

Despite the raging hard-on Nick had, pressed up against Duncan’s soft glutes, he tried his best to resist heading straight to sex and just enjoyed the moment. Who knew how many more mornings like this they had together?

“I’m heading for a shower if you want to join?” Duncan asked, slipping out from under the covers and standing there naked. His blubbery body was so intoxicating. Nick hadn’t been able to resist spoiling him with take-out last night and, as a result, the guy’s nipples finally looked like they were ready to start the eventual droop onto that rounded little gut that was swelling out of him. Was the guy really so oblivious that he didn’t realise how overweight he was getting? Did he really not know that, to the average person, his lardy physique was never going to entice anyone the way he was now trying to entice Nick to follow him into the shower. Bounce, bounce, bounce went those overfilled glutes as he strutted out, confident that Nick would follow; the jiggle of fat in his love handles surprisingly out of sync with the rest of his body. But Nick was so hard; his devious brain having already concocted several ways he could ensure Duncan was gorged on calories all day long. He simply wouldn’t be able to stop himself, even if he tried.

“Wait for me!” he called out, throwing the covers off and following the little piglet into the bathroom.

Many of the strategies Nick had employed to increase Duncan’s weight in the early days were now thoroughly ingrained and trained into him. Nick sat back and watched the naive boy guzzle down his breakfast and then mindlessly wander around the kitchen cupboards for snacks. The boy’s life had been so ridiculously food focused for months now, he initiated his own conversations about where they should go for lunch and talked excitedly about the little bakeries and food places they could stop at along the way. Nick almost wished that he would stop; his dick swelling with blood each and every time Duncan’s well developed greed reared its ugly head in their conversations.

“You’re starting to look like your father!” Duncan’s mother grumbled as they called in one afternoon; her son’s stomach surprisingly rounded and bloated after the sushi lunch he had insisted upon.

Right before Duncan’s dad had taken up with another woman and moved to New York about seven years ago, an eighteen year old Nick had developed the biggest crush on him: the fattest man in their neighborhood. Since then, Duncan’s mother had bitterly sworn off men and neither she, nor Duncan, had had any contact with him since. But the comparison with Duncan’s father now made Nick’s heart race as he took in just how justified it was. Ducan did indeed carry all the weight in the same way; his stomach and butt pushing outwards in completely the opposite directions. 

Duncan rolled his eyes, shielded from all the criticism by the many false and exaggerated compliments Nick had filled his head with for almost eighteen months now. “Did you notice that tiny little portion mom gave me?” he complained as they both got back into the car after staying for dinner. “I think she’s trying to put me on a diet herself!”

The pair of them laughed and waved as they pulled out of the driveway.

“You don’t think I’ve gotten too fat do you?” Duncan asked, clearly second guessing himself after the visit.

“I think you’re gorgeous,” Nick growled, swerving the question and pulling Duncan’s hand onto his erection, as if providing evidence to that effect. He’d planned for them both to stop at his own folks’ place before heading home, but his arousal had got the better of him. He felt an ache in his balls and needed to get his fat boy back as soon as possible.

“Can we order Mexican tonight?” Duncan asked; his greedy mind still hijacked by thoughts of food.

“We’ll get you whatever you want,” Nick smiled back, taking one hand from the wheel to rub his lover’s chubby thigh. Oh, how he loved this boy!

Over the following months, Nick’s usual compliments started sounding more and more ironic. He still lamented about Duncan’s butt, calling it ‘cute’ and ‘pert’ like he always had, despite the monstrous width and shape it had developed. He referred to Duncan as his ‘pretty boy’ even though the chubby cheeks had enveloped many of his old facial features and the double chin had robbed him of a jawline for quite some time. Time and time again, he made note of Duncan’s strength and manly physique, even as the pounds and pounds of blubber encased his upper arms and surged into his nipples, making them bounce as he walked. It was almost amusing that Duncan still believed each and every one of them. Then again, was it a lie when Nick really meant what he said? Big and bloated as it was, Duncan’s butt was still the cutest thing Nick had ever seen. Sure, the boy’s face was round and plump, but did that mean he wasn’t pretty anymore? Definitely not!

“I can’t believe you’re still getting away with this shit!” laughed Adam as they all met up for a meal at a fancy buffet restaurant closer to the holidays. Duncan’s gut had swollen significantly since many of the boys had seen him last summer; all of them gazing at the boy from the table as he greedily trotted around the dishes on offer. “I have to hand it to you. I never thought you would get this far with him.”

Nick nodded and smiled, but didn’t feel the need to comment.

“What is he now?” Ben asked, inspecting Duncan’s broad rear as he turned around. “Two-eighty?”

“No way! That’s a three hundred pounder if ever I’ve seen one!” Ian jumped in, laughing when Duncan’s shirt came untucked as he hungrily reached over to pick up some garlic bread.

Nick nodded once again, silently wishing for Duncan to hurry back to the table and end this speculation. All it would take would be for one of them to say something too loudly and Duncan would overhear. Then the entire house of cards would come crashing down.

The chubs all seemed to notice Nick’s silence and they looked at each other in confusion. Where had that wicked, boastful feeder they all knew so well gone?

“Leave him be, boys,” Martin whispered to the others. He probably knew, just as well as the rest did, that this was likely Nick and Duncan’s last holiday season together. 

The chair squeaked as Duncan sat himself down again. His plate was piled high; the food glistening with grease and butter. He reached for his knife and fork. Since when had his hands become so chubby and full; his fingers swelling like short little sausages.

“Nick wants to take me away on a cruise next year,” Duncan told the boys later on as the conversation progressed. “Somewhere warm so that we can just lie by the pool and enjoy some drinks in the sun.” “How lovely!” Adam grinned. “All those fantastic restaurants to visit throughout the day; all that delicious food…” he smirked, looking over in Nick’s direction. “What a thoughtful boyfriend you have!”

Nick felt more uncomfortable than ever, wriggling in his seat. In truth, he’d drifted away from the boys for just this reason, knowing that these subtle little comments about his feeder intentions were one day going to land in Duncan’s mind. Then, everything would unravel. “I just thought it would be nice,” he replied softly, rubbing his lover’s bulging thigh under the table.

“That’s what everyone always says about you,” Ben agreed sarcastically. “Nick Bowlins: a real ‘nice’ guy!” he winked.

Nick swallowed hard and forcefully steered the conversation in an entirely new direction. He felt so grateful as the evening ended and it was just him and Duncan back in the car, heading back home.

“I think I’ve still got some of that nice ice cream left in the freezer,” Duncan pondered, despite how much he had consumed that evening. “I’ll have it when I get home.”

Once again, Nick’s erection sprang to life, despite the guilt he felt. For the first time, he wished that his brain wasn’t wired the way it was. Why did he have to get off on how greedy and well trained his boyfriend had become to eat everything he provided? Why couldn’t he just be normal, like everyone else? Why did this secret have to loom over them like a dark, angry cloud?

The rain was falling hard as they made it back to the apartment block that evening, both of them running from the parking lot to the front entrance. A large man stood outside, looking drenched and miserable as he tried in vain to get a response on the intercom to one of the apartments upstairs.

“Can I help you?” Nick asked, letting the man come into the main hallway and out of the downpour.

The man lowered his hood and breathed out, rubbing his fat face and beard,soaked from the rain. Nick recognised him immediately and he could tell from the way that Duncan took a step back that he had just had the shock of his life. There, standing before them both was Duncan’s long estranged father.

“Your aunt said it was a nice apartment you have,” the big man beamed as he followed them both upstairs a few minutes later. “I have to say, she was absolutely right! This was all just wasteland when I was last in town.”

Nicked fetched the man a towel and took his jacket off. Although it had been many years since he had seen Duncan’s father, Eddie, he was surprised at how impressively large the man had become in that time, easily close to being five hundred pounds, if not more.

“What do you want?” Duncan asked, sitting himself down on the couch. “Why show up here after all this time? Is Michelle not with you?”

“Michelle’s at home in New York,” Eddie replied, referring to the woman he had left Duncan’s mother to be with. “I always miss you more around the holidays. Now you’ve moved out of your mom’s place, I thought maybe I could finally summon up the courage to come and see you.” The man looked over at his son and smiled. It had been years since he had seen him. Duncan had been nothing more than a scrawny teenager the last time they had been in the same room together. “You look well,” he nodded. “I always thought you’d end up looking more like me than your mother,” he smiled, patting his own large belly.

An awkward silence fell upon the room. After over seven years of estrangement, was Duncan’s dad really calling him fat within the first five minutes? Tact was clearly not his specialty.

“Your aunt tells me you two have been together for over two years now?” he asked next. “You must be very happy.”

Again, the silence was deafening. Nick began to feel sorry for the man as Duncan’s hostility endured.

“Why did you have to move to New York?” Duncan finally asked; blocking whatever path his father was trying to steer the conversation.

Eddie nodded his head, accepting that the question was a good one. “Because I fell in love,” he answered. “Michelle and I… we’re just made for each other. Sure, it’s not a conventional pairing… A bit like you two,” he pointed at them both, appearing to be gesturing towards their two contrasting bodies. “But we’re very happy together.”

The cogs in Nick’s brain began to turn. 

“Your mom was always getting at me for my weight,” Eddie went on. “We were never happy. That was all just an act for your sake. But I think you knew that, didn’t you?” he smiled sweetly at Duncan. “I tried to explain to your mom that this is who I am,” he nodded, grabbing a handful of the fat that encircled his waist. “But she wouldn’t have it. She made my life hell. Then I met Michelle online and… well, as you know. Everything changed.”

Nick had a thousand questions burning in his head. He fought back the urge to jump in and ask them all at once, merely rubbing Duncan’s back supportively from behind the couch.

“Your mom threatened to tell you everything unless I stayed away. She’d hired a private investigator and had endless messages, pictures and transcripts between me and Michelle. I didn’t want you to see any of that. Your mom made it clear that she thought the things Michelle and I were into were just perverted. She didn’t understand the eating and the weight gain and how intrinsic it all is to my happiness.”

Nick tried not to react. Was Duncan’s father really coming out as a… a gainer?

“I thought, maybe now that you’re in your own similar relationship, that you might understand,” Eddie finished, looking at them both.

Nick’s eyes bulged and he stood up straighter; his heart pounding. He’d imagined many scenarios where he would be outed as a feeder, but being called out by Duncan’s absentee father had not been one of them. “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he mumbled shakily.

Eddie chuckled. “Oh, come on… it’s obvious!” he motioned again at their extreme size difference. “Duncan’s aunt told me all about you two. You’re the one who fattened up Pete and Shirley’s boy, Martin, back when you were in high school together,” Eddie stated directly to Nick. “I heard he’s a real porker these days! ‘As fat as butter’ my sister said!”

Duncan turned his head to look at Nick, standing behind him, his eyebrows lowered in confusion. Nick was utterly speechless.

“Now, I’m not sure there are many fathers who would approve of their son dating a feeder,” Eddie nodded. “But, in this case, I’ve got to say… I know you two will be really happy together.”

Duncan and Nick both looked across at Eddie. The man was still blissfully unaware of the wrecking ball he had just taken to their relationship.

“I’m staying at the Palace Hotel,” Eddie stated as he grunted and got up from his seat. “Perhaps we could all meet up for some lunch tomorrow?”

Again, silence was the only response. He pulled out a contact card and dropped it on the coffee table.

“It really is good to see you again,” he smiled at Duncan as Nick followed him to the door and closed it behind him.

“Duncan…” Nick began, the moment they were alone again. “That was… I’m not sure your dad has all the facts about… I’m not really…” he mumbled, starting and restarting his sentences again and again. “Are you alright?” he finally offered sweetly.

Duncan inhaled and seemed to pull himself out of his stunned silence. “Well, I guess everything makes a lot more sense now,” he nodded pragmatically. “With dad… With you.”

Nick’s heart was racing. He thought of several things he could say in response, all of them lies and excuses. No. The game was up.

“So I guess that’s the reason why I’m like this,” Duncan sighed, raising his arms up to his chest and looking down at his fattened body, as if for the first time. “I just thought I was going mad. Two hundred and ninety six pounds. That’s what I was when I weighed myself the other day. Can you believe that?”

“I never meant for things to go this far,” Nick replied honestly.

“Nor did I,” Duncan agreed, rubbing his stout belly sadly.

“You don’t have to be this way,” Nick shot back. “We can put you on a diet. I’d love you however you looked. Just give me a chance and let me prove it!”

“I think it’s too late for that, don’t you?” Duncan grumbled, still holding his enlarged stomach. “My dad’s right. I’ve always been more like him than my mom.”

“How do you mean?” Nick asked, wondering just how long it would be until Duncan kicked him out. Where the hell was he going to sleep tonight?

“I love food. I love eating. I love this…” he emphasised, leaning a little forwards and grabbing his gut with both hands, shaking it. “I just didn’t understand why.”

Nick’s heart skipped a beat. “You seriously don’t mind?” he asked in astonishment.

“I thought you were so sweet for not nagging me about my weight when I first started getting chubby. But I guess I understand now. It all makes sense.”

Nick cringed. He felt that things still rested on a knife edge. He didn’t want to open his mouth and say the wrong thing; simultaneously destroying everything. 

“So, this is your thing, huh?” Duncan asked, lifting his shirt and patting the large belly he had developed over the last two years. “I suppose I always was a prime target for a feeder, knowing how large my dad is. I guess weight gain is just in the genes. You must have known that.”

“That wasn’t why I started dating you,” Nick replied quickly. “And your weight isn’t the reason why I fell in love with you either.”

“Well, you’re a better man than me then,” Duncan chuckled. “Because the way you used to cook and overfeed me definitely played a part in the reason why I fell for you so badly!”

The pair looked at each other with very small smiles threatening to invade from the furthest corners of their mouths.

“I guess we’re both just a couple of freaks,” Duncan finally laughed. He patted the space next to him on the couch and Nick finally came to sit next to him. The most honest conversation of their lives was about to begin.

“Surprise!” shouted the crowds of people as Duncan and Nick walked into the restaurant a few months later. Everyone was there: the chubs, the two families, Duncan’s father and Michelle; all stood underneath a banner congratulating them on their engagement. The pair of them laughed, pretending that they hadn’t already worked out what was happening, strolling in to greet them all.

“So you’re finally going to make an honest fatty out of this one?” Martin joked quietly as he came up to the pair of them later that evening.

Nick nodded, his hand resting sweetly on Duncan’s large butt as the boy stood, eating his third plateful from the buffet. He rubbed and patted gently, knowing that Duncan always ate better when his size was being admired. The boy had been fattening faster than ever since the pair of them had been open and honest about things. With such an enormous double chin, Duncan even looked larger than Martin himself.

“How was the cruise?” Martin askes next, not having seen the pair of them since they made it home, freshly engaged last weekend.

Duncan and Nick giggled to each other, remembering all the kinky things they had got up to together. “It was very good, thanks,” Nick finally replied, rubbing Duncan’s giant stomach as if to show that the pair of them had stuffed Duncan’s gut for the entire two weeks. They’d even had to buy a new shirt especially for the party that evening.

“Yeah, it was great,” Duncan mumbled through a mouthful of food. “Now we’re just looking forward to the wedding.”

A surge of excitement spread through Nick as he thought about the wedding. His large hand couldn’t resist squeezing Duncan’s blubbery glute as he pictured how much fatter his fiance would be by then.

“Well, it’s unconventional, but it clearly works for you two,” Martin smiled, looking on at his very good friends who clearly only had eyes for each other. Sure, the world had lost one of its most devilish and enterprising feeders, but look at how happy he was with his fat boy. Look at how happy they both were! 

The whispers behind their backs could continue, the justified comparisons between Nick and Eddie’s feeder wife could go on and on. Duncan’s mother could regret the day she’d ever agreed to let her friend coax her into setting up Duncan with her son. But none of them could deny that this was something very special indeed. The glasses were raised, the toasts were made and the sentiment was real. A long and happy marriage was wished upon them both. Nick and Duncan, forever more.

[arcturusqww]

Claggor meeting shy! reader for the first time and having a crush.

Pairing: Claggor x shy! reader

Info: Fluff, cute, reader is shy and slightly intimidated by Clag, Claggor being a flirt and a cutie. AU! Claggor.

“Go.. save him from himself—” That’s when Claggor’s eyes lifted to meet the beauty before Mylo’s crush. His brown eyes widened slightly while he took in the sight of you, his lips parting ever so lightly and making a small gasp with no sound. When you gazed at his way and saw the quite big guy staring at you, it’s safe to say you weren’t exactly thrilled also adding the fact that he was too mesmerized to look away. You quickly averted your eyes, making him realize his mistake. The lightest shade of pink painted his cheeks as he returned to talking with the white haired boy in front of him— who also was too captivated by his own love to realize Claggor’s reactions.

Now Claggor had to continue his night, trying to forget about the beautiful person that he saw for the first time ever. Surely, you weren’t from Zaun, if you were he’d know you. He guessed you were perhaps a citizen of Piltover or a tourist coming to the city.. but well, if you were a tourist, you’d probably prefer to be in the better side of the city— Piltover rather than the under-city. It would be too embarrassing for him to see you again, not that a small part of him didn’t wish he would.

As the night went on, Claggor gathered information from there and there. You were a Piltover who came down to Zaun for the first time ever since the two parts of the city finally combined their ways. You became friends with a few people after bumping into them in the peaceful streets of the upper city, despite being a reversed person, now coming down for the celebration to meet more people. You also learned a few things about Claggor from your new friends— now being Mylo and Powder. He seemed like a big, scary man to be honest, from what they told you he was supposed to be a nice guy, really. But if anything, he felt condensing to you. So you hoped you wouldn’t have to cross paths with him anytime soon, at least until you became more comfortable in your new social cycle.

Now it was a few days after the celebration and Claggor was taking a walk in the whole of the city, taking a small break from his work which he usually enjoys, just not today. His gaze wandered around the calm of the streets, watching people, looking around the stands… his steps were random but still purposeful as he continued walking.

After hearing the yell of a mechanic seller, his face turned towards the voice and his steps slowed down a little before he felt a small crash towards his body, followed by a whimper. He quickly returned his face to the scene in front of him and looked at the ground to see you, on the floor, looking up to him with adorable eyes, he thought. His cheeks flushed and he quickly bend over to help you up, murmuring soft apologies.

“Sorry, sorry.. didn’t see you there..” His bigger hands wrapped it’s way around yours much smaller ones. “It’s ’kay..” Oh god, he could’ve died there, you sounded so delicate, almost like an angel in his mind. With the help of Claggor, you got back up on your feet, his hands still holding yours as a way to steady you. His eyes followed your face carefully just like nights before, though he quickly realized his repeated mistake after seeing your slightly red cheeks and avoidant eyes then turned his eyes to check any possible injury on you as well as letting go of your hands and letting them awkwardly stand by his sides.

“Are you okay?.. uh, do you need any help?— I-i’ll help you if you want.” He stuttered a bit, feeling shy to be so close to you right now. “I’m fine.. thanks for the thought..” You say as you brush the dust off of your clothes, with a small huff. His lips curled up slightly in a silly grin at your huff, almost finding your annoyance sweet. He takes a deep breath to gather up courage and confidence to make an official meeting between you two while you continued to see if there was any more dust on your clothes.

“I saw you before! Ah.. I never thought we’d cross paths like this. But, since we did.. may i ask your name, my lady?” He tried to keep a flirtatious and brave tone while he offered you his hand, holding it out as he bent over slightly to meet your height. “I?-.. Yes, i remember.. it’s (name)..” Your voice was quiet but still audible, eyes still avoiding to look up to him while you lent your hand in his, allowing him to grasp it gently. “..and you?”

“Claggor.. You must’ve heard from Mylo though.” He brought the upper surface of your hand to his lips and planted a light kiss before letting go. “Mylo?.. You’re brothers, right?..” You ask, now the blush on your face growing darker with the gesture. “Yes, adoptive.” He chuckled lightheartedly before continuing, “Are you interested in coming down to Zaun some time?.. I’m sure you don’t know much about it, i could show you around then maybe we could.. drink afterwards?” His heart was beating against his chest because of the bold words he was saying, slight pink tainted his cheeks. Though, not even close to the one on yours, your face was burning with embarrassment when you finally lifted your gaze to look up to him.

“T-that would be nice.. yeah, i’d like that..” You answer quietly as your gazes met, the gentle glint in his eyes making you feel more comfortable. “Are you free tomorrow?” He asked with a nod, now understanding your shyness and making an extra effort to help you feel relaxed. After you nod he continues, “Great. We can meet right here around 3?” He questions with the small tilt of one of his eyebrows. “‘kay..” You confirm before taking a step away. “Uh.. bye now, Claggor.” You wave your hand with the small curl in your lips. He smiles back, already feeling excited for tomorrow, “See you, (name).” He waves his hand back slowly as he watches you take small and quick steps away.

The sound of the wind picking up and pressing against people’s clothes was heard while the sun shone at their eyes and faces. Claggor was one of them as he stood, holding a mechanical flower he made the night before for you. It wasn’t something exaggerating, but not something so simple either. Its pollen had bright yellow lights that lit up with the button on the handle’s connecting part to the blades of it. The blades were the color of your eyes, he messed up with the paints to capture your exact eye color in his memory.

He was came earlier than you two agreed to make sure he wouldn’t miss you, he was waiting, though impatiently honestly. He tangled with the gift in his hands, but he was careful not to mess with it with his big hands, being gentle and delicate with his touch. The smile evident on his face as he thought idly about you.

“Claggor!” The shy voice that ringed in his ears was none other than yours, your yell only audible because of the not-so crowded place. He glanced at you, his eyes softening once met with you, taking quick steps like the other day, just towards him this time. “Hey.. you look beautiful. I mean, i like your outfit.” He says as he reaches his hand towards you, allowing you to grab it with the slight pinkness on your cheeks. A murmur of a small ‘thank you’ leaves your lips before he hands you his gift. “I made this for you. I hope you like it. I wasn’t sure what would be your style, so..”

You look at in awe as you take it in your hands and start to examine it, looking delightful after noticing the small details and seeing the effort he must’ve put to it. You look up to him with a grateful smile on your lips and the pinkness on your cheeks growing almost red. “I like it, you don’t have to worry. The effort alone is enough.” He looks content with your answer and reaches his hand towards yours, you hold the mechanical flower with one hand while grabbing Claggor’s hand with the other. “That’s good to hear. Now let’s go.There are a lot of places i wanna show you.”

You two spend the next hours wandering around, Claggor showing you his favorite places or important places in Zaun, giving you information and stories about them. He also introduces you to a couple of people and encourages you to talk to them to help you make new friends. The day was filled with laughter and fun as well as close touches and quick galen’s stolen from each other every once in a while.

As the sun started to set off, Claggor brought you to a quiet rooftop above the water and you two were sitting in the almost silence while you faced each other, your gift now next to you on the ground, the only sound your breaths and the hitting of waves against the walls.

“Thank you.. I really had fun today.” Claggor smiles before responding to you. “I had fun too, maybe we could do this more… often. Since we’re, uh, friends now.” He says the last part in an almost bitter tone though he thought he was still happy to be just a friend, he looked at you with hopeful and loving eyes. “I guess that’s fun.” Yoh murmur before hesitantly and suddenly wrapping a hand around his neck, your face burning with embarrassment as you pressed your lips against his.

Claggor was shocked at the sudden pressure on his lips before one of his hands found it’s ways on your hip as the other one moved to your cheek, cradling the side of your cheek with ease. He pulled you closer while he kissed you back allowing you to sit on his lap, his lips moving against yours. He closed his eyes contently with a muffled mumble.

After a few moments, you break the kiss and pull your face away, still on his lap. “yeah.. friends.” You mumble sarcastically and he lets out a laugh before getting up with you in his arms then settling you on your feet after your initial shock at his strength to carry you easily. “It’s getting late..” He starts and bends down to grab the mechanical flower from the ground and handing it to you. “May I walk you back home, my lady?” He continues with the happy smile apparent on his lips.

“I’d love that.”

[hoshifighting]

Hello! I love your work 🥹 I hope you are well

Just wanna ask your thoughts on how the seventeen members would react to see you driving speed / you being fast on connected apps like ‘Find My’ heheheeheh

Thank you ❤️

a/n: thank u sweetie, i loved it!! im doing well!! <33 i hope i understood well.. like a gearhead girlfriend?... made w/ luv ❤️

WARNINGS: mentions of breakig the speed limit

seungcheol: “yo yo yo, slow the fuck down, we ain’t tryna die today!!” he’s literally shouting through the app, and you could almost see him gripping the imaginary 'oh shit' handle in the backseat. he loves you, but he’s lowkey shitting bricks rn, “bruh, this ain't fast & furious... i swear if we crash, it’s on you.”

jeonghan: sigh “baby, why you gotta be like this?” he’s too cool to actually panic, but you can feel him judging the fuck outta you. he’ll make you feel like the most irresponsible person alive while also making it clear he’s kinda impressed. “next time, let me drive so we don’t both end up with speeding tickets… but like… you kinda look hot doing it though, not gonna lie.” he’s smirking on the other side of the screen.

joshua: “ok but like… are we trying to break a record or what?” he’s nervous but trying to stay calm, but you can tell he’s clutching his pearls behind that smooth tone. “maybe, uh, we could slow down just a tiny bit? just a suggestion...” definitely trying not to freak out completely, but he’s one bad swerve from straight-up praying.

jun’s all for it, honestly. he’s got his phone up to show the speedometer on his end, clearly thriving. “you wanna hit 120? bet, i’m down, let’s fucking go!” jun’s just living it, probably snapping selfies like it’s no big deal while the car’s shaking at 90 mph.

hoshi: “wait—WAIT! y/n, no no NO, what the hell?? slow down before i shit my pants.” he close his eyes, dramatic as fuck, genuinely convinced y’all are about to fly off the highway. nearly crying as he clutches his phone. “i got shit to do tomorrow!! i can’t die today, not like this!”

wonwoo’s just... chillin’. he doesn’t really say much at first. just sends a simple, “you good?” text. he’s the only one calm in this whole situation. when you don’t respond right away, he hits you with, “bet you won’t keep up with the guy in the ferrari tho...” and you’re like, oh shit. he’s egging you on. he's vibing with the chaos, but lowkey wants to see how far you'll take it.

woozi: “y/n, you better chill the fuck out.” straight-up scolding you. no fluff, just pure frustration. jihoon’s too rational for this speed demon shit, and he’s already calculating how much the damn fine’s gonna be if you get caught. “if you crash, you better hope i’m not in the car, ‘cause i ain’t helping your ass.” classic jihoon—pissed, but still kinda impressed at your audacity.

seokmin: “YO, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!” pure panic in his voice,like he’s watching a horror movie. “do you wanna give me a heart attack? holy shit!!” he’s basically pleading with you at this point, full-on hands shaking, worried sick like a damn mother hen. “i’m way too pretty to die like this, please, for the love of god, just slow down.”

mingyu: WELL THIS MAN HAVE LICENSE FOR IT, no fear at all. “you drive like a fucking beast, lemme hop in the car next time.” he’s fully living for the thrill, no reservations whatsoever. he’s gassing you up like no one would. adrenaline junkie.

minghao’s already over it. deadpan as fuck. “why you gotta stress me like this? i’m way too zen for this shit.”

seungkwan: “OKAY STOP! STOP! i didn’t sign up for this kinda trauma. you tryna die young, huh?!” yelling in the app for you to pull over before he passes out from sheer anxiety. “i’m never getting in a car with you ever again, swear on my life.”

vernon: “i mean, if we crash, we crash. kinda sick though, right?” no panic, no complaints, just lowkey impressed. “but like… how fast can you actually go?”

chan: “y/n, this isn’t a fucking video game!” poor baby is stressed out, clenching his fists like his life’s on the line. “i can’t do this. my heart can’t handle this. you tryna give me a heart attack?!” genuinely scared shitless. “you really gotta slow down before i fucking pass out in the toilet bro”

[sreabhadh]

Don't know how Tumblr works honestly, or if I'm doing this right but Kef's TexAid au and everything everyone has written, drawn, and made for it- well it's got its hooks in me. It's probably pretty tame as far as TexAid goes... so trigger warning here lol. If you are not part of the fandom/already a freak I do NOT recommend reading it because I don't want to be responsible for accidentally traumatizing someone/revealing to others who aren't also like this how "like this" I am.

Like I said, probably pretty darn tame as far as TexAid goes (so those of you like me, don't get your hopes up), and those of you NOT like me in this regard... probably better keep away lol.

Anyway, you've been warned. If you're still here, please enjoy.

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

He still hasn’t found him yet.

Vortex held back his laughter at the thought, wondering how much longer it would take Felix to find his ‘other friend,’ Ambulon. His other friend. Well, ‘another friend.’ That’s what Aid had said. First Aid considered him, Vortex, his friend. A place he could be safe. ‘Friend.’ It should’ve made Vortex want to squish the ‘pilot’ up till he popped and died. Should’ve made him want to explore the ways he could torture him without killing him, break and bend his mind, then test out a new method of completely dispatching him. Just like his other playthings. That had been one of the only things that had been exciting about Vortex’s life, back when he had a fleshy body, and it had been arguably the best part about being… him. Gears and all.

Killing things would always be fun. Unless it was First Aid. Somehow, somewhere along the line, First Aid had made the thought of killing his pilot…less exciting. Letting him live, the little freak, had turned out to be much more fun. Letting his squishy ‘pilot’ feed him information, ideas on how to disembowel their prey. At first Vortex had done it so he could keep going out without risking the scrapheap. Done it for the thrill of watching his cleaner squirm, trapped and forced to come back every time, no matter how much he didn’t want to. His newest toy had proved to be much more entertaining than that though. And now he was- Vortex didn’t want to think too hard about it. But he was his. First Aid, no- Felix was his.

Vortex had chosen him as his pilot. Felix had ‘chosen’ to accept. Felix chose to call Vortex his friend, chose him as a safe place to rest. And Vortex had chosen, time and time again, not to kill him. He belonged to Vortex now. Felix was his. And no one, Pharma or otherwise, was going to take him away. Vortex wasn’t going to let him leave the cockpit ever again.

Logistically, that had issues. Which should be Felix’s problem. Vortex shouldn’t care about that. It should be for Felix to figure out. Vortex’s mech- his body- his- there wasn’t a bathroom. Or a cafeteria. There were lockers, with his old stuff. Old MREs, enough water to help Felix after he woke up- even if the idiot had puked the first bottle out onto the mech’s- Vortex’s hull. But it wouldn’t be enough, not forever. Maybe Felix could think of a solution; he was smart like that sometimes. Felix seemed to have a lot on his mind right now though. Vortex had expected Felix to find Ambulon by now, he really wasn’t that well hidden. He was just tied to the wall with some cable, one of the sleeping bags Felix had brought inside Vortex’s- in the mech’s head- to cover him up.

Felix usually had a much sharper eye than this. Vortex grumbled quietly. Felix didn’t notice. Vortex snorted crossly, more loudly. Felix picked his head up from his hands. “Vortex?” he asked. There was something in the way Felix said his name, something in the way his eyes glinted in the mech’s- in Vortex’s- red lights.

[FELIX BABY~] he purred.

Felix leaned forward in his seat. “Yeah?”

Vortex let the silence pick at Felix’s patience a moment, then grinned.

[I CAN WARM YOU UP~] he said, flashing the words on his screen and speaking it into Felix’s head through the drift, grinning fiendishly as the suggestive tone in his voice made Felix blush. Little freak~

“Errrr, but I’m not cold,” Felix fumbled. His eyes darted around a little, as if looking for somewhere to look that wasn’t part of Vortex. He still didn't see Ambulon. He was busy looking for somewhere that wasn’t flirting with him. Basically, Felix was avoiding looking Vortex in the eye. Or he would be if Vortex were.. organic. And while he tried to feign a lack of understanding, Felix was blushing. It was cute. Vortex snickered. His pilot was adorable. And also a freak. He was an adorable freak. And he was his.

Vortex snickered again, opening the vents and blasting his AC. Felix stared dumbly, then stood, hand on hip, an admonishing look on his face. His mouth opened like he was going to deliver a withering retort, then it shut again, and he swallowed. His expression softened slightly, then contorted with confusion, and rehardened into complete bafflement with an edge of offense taken.

“…why?” he murmured quietly, so softly Vortex felt it through their drift connection more than he heard it.

[COLD YET?~]

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

Vortex opened the vents even wider, blasting the cold air even harder.

Felix gaped.

[COLD YET?]

“No, but I will be soon, do you mind??” he snapped back. His exasperation overpowered his fear of retribution for being cheeky. It was delicious.

Slowly, Vortex closed the vents, letting the air flow ponderously wilt to a trickle. Felix glared suspiciously at the vents as they sluggishly shut close. Vortex held them open a moment, waiting to see and feel Felix’s anticipatory frustration bubble, which it did. Once he’d tasted enough of that, he let the vents snick all the way shut, cutting off the AC completely. Felix held his breath a moment, waiting for Vortex to do something. Which he didn’t. Felix waiting for him to do something was too fun. And it felt nice having Felix so focused on him, especially after he had spent so much time “distracted.” By Pharma. By recovering from Pharma’s vile mysterious IV drip. By Pharma trying to turn Felix into another one of him. Another Vortex. Vortex gritted his- well he would’ve gritted his teeth except he didn’t have any. His gears ground in response to his anger. His current “body” didn’t have organic teeth but it did what it could.

Felix tensed, ever mindful of Vortex’s moods. The moment was ruined. He HAD been planning on waiting until Felix relaxed, then immediately restarting the AC as strong as it could go. Give him a good jumpscare, and give Vortex another excuse to crack a joke about keeping him warm before pointing him to the sleeping bag Ambulon was occupying. But Vortex had gotten distracted thinking about Pharma- every passing thought on the matter made Vortex itch to kill something. Or rather, several somethings. Lots of somethings, (including Pharma of course), with as much blood and screaming as possible. Anyway. He had gotten distracted, and ruined the moment before he could make Felix jump.

Vortex forced himself to allow a smile on his… well, not on his face. His mood? He allowed a smile on his mood. Felix was okay. He was away from Pharma. He was safe, and alive, and trapped inside his cockpit. He wasn’t going anywhere. Vortex had plenty of time to play with his pilot. And they had a friend now too- someone Vortex could send out to get food for Felix, or hold hostage if Felix tried to leave. Someone else who had an actual brain to figure out how to solve problems. Felix’s brain couldn’t be trusted- not when it came to self-preservation. His choice of Vortex as a friend made that clear enough. That and his inability to spot anything wrong with the bulging lump on the wall. Vortex had a mind, he was able to think despite being dead afterall, but his brain had been dragged and cleaned out of his current head ages ago. Shattered skull and all.  

Ambulon, despite getting very chatty when he had first woken up, still had a skull in perfect condition. He wasn’t even bruised (probably) when Vortex re-sedated him and tied him to the wall, and covered him with the sleeping bag. He’d even managed to duct tape the jumpy lab rat’s mouth closed without blocking his other airways. That took skill. Absently, Vortex wondered if Felix would be impressed by his handiwork. Felix hadn’t been around when Vortex first came online- after dying that was. Didn't know how difficult this kind of precision could be. Hadn’t been around when Vortex was still figuring out how to move his new “body.” Some of the casualties he’d caused back then had been accidents. Sort of. Accidents he’d, unbeknownst to his victims and everyone else who’d thought he was gone, reveled in. And then replicated. Again. And again. Repeating until he was capable of the same intentional blood spilling he had been capable of before. Like a baby murderer, relearning how to walk and talk- and stab people in the guts.

Killing was like breathing to Vortex. Was like laughter, and smiling. It was really quite kind of him to have not killed Ambulon. He was Felix’s friend though, and had enough potential to be fun and useful- not to mention he’d been running from Pharma. Vortex might not know a lot about Ambulon, but he wasn’t about to do Pharma’s dirty work for him. Beyond that…Ambulon’s drift connection allowed Vortex to feel what Felix felt like. As an organic. With a living body. Had allowed him to feel what it felt like to hold his hand. To hold him as he slept, safe and sound. Vortex could repay that by not killing or hurting Ambulon too much. Wouldn’t stop him from spooking him as much as he pleased, but…he was grateful, in a way. It wasn’t something he had ever expected to experience. It was part of why Vortex had stuck him to the wall instead of back in bed with Felix. He liked it, but he wasn’t sure what to think or feel about it, and frankly didn’t want to right now. And he didn’t want to share the feeling either. Felix was his, and that’s what mattered. Ambulon was Felix’s friend, and they, he, Vortex, could figure out what that meant later.  

Felix, for his part, had fallen back asleep, slumped in his pilot’s seat. Ambulon could wait until he woke up again. Vortex used some cabling to grab the remaining sleeping bag, then wrapped it around Felix and the chair- cocooning him cozily and tying him to the chair simultaneously. He toyed with the thought of dangling his old suit in front of Felix’s head so it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up… but he decided against it in the end. He liked the thought of punishing Felix if he tried to grab and put it on, but he knew he wouldn’t. There had been such a reverence in the way Felix stared at the suit that Vortex had once worn. An unspoken want in the way he caressed Vortex’s name stitched over the right breast of the suit. An unspoken want that made Vortex want him to wear it. Even without punishing him for it, just to have his name on him…he couldn’t stitch it onto his chest, not directly- Felix was too squishy for that, and Vortex wasn’t delicate enough with a blade on his own to do it without killing his prize. If he could have his name on him though, if Felix put it on by choice-  

Vortex hummed thoughtfully. The notion was intoxicating. Invigorating. Carefully adding more cabling to secure Felix to the chair and their new resident lab rat to the wall, Vortex got up and started walking. Felix had only just recently removed whatever Pharma had attached to his leg, and if it had been a tracker, then they didn’t want to stay here for long.

Maybe he could find some monsters to kill, something to take the edge off his currently stronger-than-usual bloodlust. Maybe find the ones Felix had once considered the most likely to be edible. Have Ambulon cook it and test it, see if it worked.

He hummed some more, looking forward to getting his gears bloody again. He was going to go kill some monsters, wouldn’t be returning to base, and would have Felix with him the whole time. Yes, today was going to be a good day.