#if nothing else it's nice to be getting my hands dirty again so to speak

[krawdad]

Okay I see why dorodangos are priced the way they are

[smileysuh]

apartment complex

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader I ft. Haechan & Jaehyun

🔮 preview. So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess? 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, pent-up sexual tension, shower sex, masturbation, fingering, hand job, thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, breast worship/nipple play, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, multiple sex positions, size kink (Johnny is big and a slight manhandler), mentions of aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) 304, baby, princess. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.3k

🍭 aus. Love square, slice of life, neighbours to lovers, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. So when Johnny calls her the nickname ‘304,’ we’re not doing full numbers, it’s ‘three-oh-four’ which I actually think is kind of cute haha 

One:

You feel like an absolute mess. Your hair is all over the place, you’re in a full sweats ensemble that is - true to its name - making you perspire like nothing else as you lug boxes upon boxes of your stuff into your building and up to your new apartment.

To make matters worse, you’re exhausted. Moving days have this absolutely draining effect, and you can’t wait for the day to be over. You’re not even sure if you’ll unpack anything- maybe you’ll just fish out a towel and some body wash from one of the many crates you have, shower, then collapse onto your mattress- do you even have the energy to set up your bed frame?

You’re busy trying to plan out how you’re going to even accomplish the day, when the elevator doors open, and you find yourself staring up at one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he grins, stepping next to you in the small space. “Moving in?”

You’re so distracted by the way his biceps look in his muscle shirt that it takes you a moment to speak. “Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Johnny,” he tells you.

“y/n.” The box in your hands is beginning to slip from the sweat on your palms, and you haphazardly readjust it on your hip.

“This might be a little forward,” Johnny chuckles, “but do you need any help?”

“Uh…” You turn once again to look up at this absolute tower of a man. “I’m almost done moving everything-”

“Let me guess, boxes done, just some furniture stuff left?”

You feel your skin flush with heat. “Is it that obvious that I’m struggling right now?” An awkward laugh escapes your lips, and you’re happy to find Johnny return the sound with a soft, understanding smile.

“Usually when cute girls move somewhere, they have a boyfriend, a brother, a dad, a friend- someone to help them do the tough stuff, and since you’re alone, I’m guessing you’re troopering this whole thing out all by yourself.”

“New city,” you explain. “I don’t uh- don’t know anyone here just yet, and my family didn’t want to take time off work to help with any of this.”

“Lucky you bumped into me then,” Johnny grins. “I just finished up at the gym, but I’ve got energy to help a new neighbour.”

The elevator dings to signal you’ve made it to your floor, and Johnny follows you out.

“You’re the new tenant for 304?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, stopping in front of the unit you now call home.

“We really are neighbours,” Johnny laughs. “I’m 306.”

“Look it was nice to meet you,” you say, “but you really don’t need to help, I’m sure I can manage my bed and a few other things-”

“y/n,” Johnny interrupts you, “I promise I’m not some creep, just a good neighbour offering help. You look tired, let me help you.”

Your pride makes it difficult to accept this sort of thing, but you swallow it, offering Johnny a nod. 

And that’s how you find yourself moving your bed and the last bit of furniture into your new apartment with one of the sexiest guys you’ve ever seen. He’s quite the charmer, and he’s reassuring too- calming you down when things are a little heavy, and slowing his own pace to match your exhaustion.

In no time at all, everything is out of the moving truck, and Johnny leans in your doorway as he watches you slump into a chair. 

“Do you want help making your bedframe or anything?” he enquires.

“Honestly? I think I’m going to call it a day,” you admit. “The drive here was long, I’ve been up since five AM, didn’t sleep well last night due to nerves-”

“Sounds like you should get some rest,” Johnny nods.

“I really appreciate your help though,” you offer. “I’ll uh, have to buy you beers or something.”

Johnny only laughs. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I work on a rig, so I’m only here a week or so every month, you caught me at a good time.”

“Oh.” You can’t help the disappointment that surges through you. Of course this man was too hot to be true- of course he has a job that requires him to be away for long periods or he’d probably have an equally hot girlfriend already.

“But… let me give you my number, and if you ever need anything while I am here, you can just give me a shout.” 

The two of you exchange digits, and with one final smile, Johnny leaves you be. 

You lay on your bed for a while, trying to calm down- from the moving, or from being around a ten out of ten, you’re not sure. 

Two:

It’s your first time doing laundry in the new building, and to your disappointment, you find the shared laundry room to have no available machines.

A sigh escapes you as you stand there momentarily, wondering if you should wait five minutes for a turn over, or just scratch this whole idea and hope there are empty machines tomorrow.

As you’re considering your options, the laundry room door opens, and a tall blonde enters.

“Hi,” he beams.

“Hello.” You watch him carefully, noticing that he heads to a machine to take out his clothes from the washer. “Uh- do you mind if I put my stuff in there once it’s empty?”

“Of course not,” he smiles. “With only six machines for the whole building, it can be a bit rough trying to nab one on busy days.”

“I’ve noticed,” you laugh. “I’m new here, my name is y/n.”

“I’m Jungwoo,” he tells you, moving his clothing into the only empty dryer. He turns on the machine and then steps back, looking over at you again. “So are you new to the building or new to the city?”

“The city,” you admit, beginning to move your stuff into the now empty washer.

“You have that look.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just- a lot of people here are boring, we’re not exactly known for fashion or anything like that-”

You look down at the Stitch onesie you’re wearing that you’d bought for Halloween a few years back but has since become a comfort outfit, then back up at the blonde.

“I just like your style!” he insists. “Not everyone can rock blue pajamas!”

You find yourself laughing at his sincerity, shaking your head as you grab your washer fluid to get the machine going.

“Anyways,” Jungwoo sighs. “Did you move here for work?”

“I actually work online,” you tell him. “I can work from anywhere, and I figured this would be a nice place to get out of the big city for a while- cheaper rent, more nature, that sort of thing.”

“Makes sense,” Jungwoo nods. “I’m a server at a bar just down the road.”

You take a moment, then laugh. “You seem like a server.”

“Because I’m so cute and social?” he grins.

“Definitely,” you nod, enjoying his energy.

“Anyways, I love making friends, and since you’re new to the city, I’m guessing you haven’t met a lot of people yet. If you want to be friends, I’d love to add you to my gossip roster.”

“Your gossip roster?”

“I’m a server, which means I love all things tea- except for when grandmas order actual tea in the middle of a rush, that’s the worst.”

“I’ll take your word on it,” you grin.

“So… friends?” Jungwoo asks.

You nod. “We can be friends.”

Three:

It’s been three weeks since you moved into your new apartment, and in that time, you’ve gotten settled, and even visited Jungwoo at his bar. He’s an interesting friend, and he seems to know everything about everyone.

At first, you’d been worried about any ulterior motives he might have, as you’ve experienced many men try to make a move on you under the guise of just wanting to be your friend. But now, you realize Jungwoo’s intentions towards you are pure- or, as pure as they can be given how much gossip he consumes.

You get the sense that you’re not his type, and that’s a hundred percent okay with you, in fact, it’s a dynamic that makes you finally feel comfortable accepting an invitation to visit his apartment.

It seems all the attractive men in your building live on your floor, and as you enter his unit, you find yet another cute man standing in the kitchen.

“This is Mark,” Jungwoo introduces you. “Mark, this is y/n. Don’t worry, Lee, I’ve told her everything about you.”

“Oh, great,” Mark sighs.

It’s true, Jungwoo has divulged way too deep into his roommate’s history. You know that he’s a content creator and chef, he used to work in a prestigious restaurant, went on one of those reality cooking shows, managed to be the runner up for the first place prize despite his awkward nature, and has now been commissioned to write a cookbook focused solely on burgers (which Jungwoo has assured you is actually a broad topic despite what you might think).

You also know that Mark has a limited dating history, with a high school sweetheart who left him right before his stint on live tv, and a new crush on some barista that he’s too shy to even talk to despite the fact that he goes to her coffee shop every day just to order frothed milk with vanilla since caffeine doesn’t agree with him.

“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Jungwoo asks, coming to stand right behind Mark in the kitchen.

From the way Mark clears his throat and steps back, it’s obvious to you that he’s not as comfortable about being close to people as Jungwoo is, and you find yourself enjoying this roommate dynamic already.

“I’m actually testing some stupid protein burger for muscle heads,” Mark admits.

“Aren’t burgers already high in protein since they’re meat?” you ask.

“Yes, and no,” Mark groans, “it depends. I want to have a few vegetarian and even vegan options in the cookbook I’m writing on burgers- and lots of people want high protein even in their plant based meals.” 

“So… what are your options for this burger you’re trying to create?” you enquire. 

“I’ve tried some black bean patties, chickpea patties, that sort of thing- but I’m considering making an entire two page fold dedicated to dredges and batters that you could use on a variety of burgers, meat or vegetarian. I got everything to make a protein powder infused batter, but I’m just now realizing that the protein powder I have on hand is chocolate flavoured, which really won’t work if I put it on anything, let alone a tofu burger.”

“Call Jae,” Jungwoo says simply. “That man has a collection of protein powder that would make a man on steroids combust.”

“Maybe I should just run to the store,” Mark sighs.

“You only need a small scoop of powder, right?” Jungwoo counters. “Why would you go buy an entire plain jug of protein powder when a protein head lives next door?”

“I’d hate to bother him,” the chef groans again, and you find yourself starting to realize the true depth of his social anxiety. 

“I’ll call Jaehyun,” Jungwoo states, pulling out his phone.

You take a seat at the island counter while Jungwoo makes a deal for some powder with this ‘Jae’ person, and you watch Mark fuss over other ingredients that he adds to a dry mixing bowl.

There’s a knock at the door, and then a man peaks his head inside of the apartment.

Your eyes lock and the wind is knocked from your lungs- is every hot man in the city living in your building?

“Jae!” Jungwoo yells, “come in!”

The man steps into the apartment, offering a smile, and the dimples in his cheeks practically blind you. There’s no way around it, this man looks like a model. He’s handsome, but there’s a slightly feminine softness to the angles of his face, a warmth in his eyes, and it’s absolutely captivating.

“Am I interrupting?” Jae asks as he approaches the kitchen, his eyes continuously meeting your own.

“Not at all, Mark’s just floundering as usual, and I’m hanging out with my new friend. y/n, this is Jaehyun, Jaehyun, this is y/n.” 

“Nice to meet you,” you smile.

“You too.” Jaehyun sets a tub of protein powder onto the kitchen counter next to Mark, then he turns his full attention to you again. “So how did you meet Jungwoo?”

“In the laundry room,” Jungwoo is quick to explain, and you don’t miss the exchange of glances between Jaehyun and your friend. “She’s new to the building.” Jungwoo practically winks at Jaehyun, and you get the suspicion that he’s trying to set you up with this model looking protein man.

“I love meeting new neighbours,” Jaehyun says smoothly. “What floor are you on?”

“This one, room 304.”

“No way.” Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “That’s right across from mine!”

“You’re 305?” you ask, heart beating faster in your chest.

“In the flesh,” Jaehyun grins.

“Can we move the talking somewhere else?” Mark asks quietly. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The energy fizzles immediately, and Jaehyun nods. “I was actually just heading to the gym.”

“Of course you were,” Jungwoo rolls his eyes.

“But uh, I’ll see you around,” Jaehyun says, looking at you directly. “Welcome to the building.” 

Four:

You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked when meeting cute men in your apartment building anymore, but you still find your breath leaving your body when you’re bringing groceries up from the parking garage only for a very cute man to enter the elevator.

He steps in and flashes you a smirk, then looks at the floor buttons. “You’re headed to three?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

“Are you new?”

“Been here about a month.”

“Huh,” the man looks stumped for a moment. “I feel like I would have seen you. I’m Hyuck by the way.”

“y/n.”

Hyuck nods. “Are you liking the building?”

“It’s nice,” you muse, too tired from your day at the grocery store to make much smalltalk. 

“You must be… unit 304? I’m a couple of doors down, near the corner. I know someone moved out, and I heard from the building manager that someone was moving in, but fuck, I can’t believe I haven’t met you yet.”

“I can be kind of reclusive,” you joke. “I mean, I work from home.”

“Ahhh, you’re one of those girls.” Hyuck grins at you knowingly and your heart leaps into your throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just, you know, sometimes the cutest girls are the ones that stay in their house all day.”

“Oh.” You’re really not sure how to respond to his statement, and your eyes shift down to the floor as the elevator comes to a stop.

The two of you both turn to the left, and Hyuck walks in step with you to your door, where he stops. “What’s that?”

You’re confused for a moment, too busy fumbling with your keys, but when you look up, you realize there’s a sticky note on your door. 

“Looks like you already have an admirer,” Hyuck grins. “Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime,” he reads. “Who do you think left this?”

You’re pretty sure it was Jaehyun who left the note- after all, the only other people you know are Jungwoo and Johnny, who both have your number, and you doubt Mark Lee of all people would be this forward. 

“I uh-” you stutter a little, swallowing thickly. “I’m not sure.”

“So are you single, or…?”

“Definitely single,” you blurt out, pushing your key into the door and clicking it unlocked.

“Definitely single,” Hyuck repeats as you push into your apartment, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Five:

You’re finishing up after dinner when your phone makes a beeping sound, and you quickly pick it up, surprised to see a message from Johnny.

‘Looks like you’ve got some secret admirers, 304.’

Your stomach drops, and you realize that in your haste to enter your apartment after finding Jaehyun’s note with Hyuck earlier, you hadn’t actually removed it from your door- but wait, admirers? As in… plural? 

Tripping over yourself to get to the door, you throw it open to find not one sticky note, but two.

While Jaehyun’s initial ‘Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime’ is still there, someone has taken the liberty to put a second note on top of it, and this one reads; ‘I’m more fun, let’s have drinks.’

It’s clear who the second note is from, and you’re quick to rip both off of your door. 

Jaehyun and Hyuck are both quite forward, and your heart is racing as you go sit on your couch, feeling conflicted.

You pull out your phone again, releasing a deep sigh as you write up a text to Johnny. ‘This apartment building is so weird.’

‘Boys will be boys,’ comes his quick response. 

Taking another breath to calm yourself, you look at the texts, and that’s when you realize, ‘I didn’t know you were back from the rigs.’ 

‘Got back a couple of days ago :)’ 

Tapping your fingers against your couch, you try to figure out how you should play this.

You’re most attracted to Johnny, but now that Jaehyun and Hyuck are so clearly demonstrating their blooming affection for you - out in the open where everyone on your floor can see - you wonder if that might throw a wrench at Johnny’s own feelings for you…

Does Johnny like you?

When he’d helped you move your things, was that just him genuinely being nice? 

You feel absolutely twisted, especially since you’ve never considered yourself the type of girl to entertain a long distance relationship…

‘So… you’re in town for a few more days?’

‘three!’ 

You definitely need to sort out your priorities. 

Six:

You’re in need of a drink as you walk into Jungwoo’s work, taking a seat at the bar and releasing a deep sigh.

“For a girl who came to happy hour, you don’t look too happy,” Jungwoo muses as he moves to stand in front of you.

“Is it that obvious?” you laugh.

“I mean… you’re the hot new girl in 304 who has two guys fighting over you in sticky notes, I’d expect you to be a little more up beat.” 

“You saw that?” you ask in shock.

“Everyone saw it. Whoever left those notes weren’t exactly subtle… who did leave those notes, by the way?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head at your friend’s need for gossip. “You know one of them at least.”

“Jae, I’m guessing,” Jungwoo nods. “He asked me for your number but since I’m your friend I’m not just out here handing around your personal information.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And guy number two?” he enquires.

“Some dude named Hyuck.”

An interesting expression immediately appears on Jungwoo’s face. It’s something between an ‘oooooh!’ and an ‘ooop!’ and you can’t quite place the emotion.

“What?” you ask, leaning forward. “You know him?”

“Everyone knows Hyuck.”

“They do?”

“Let’s just say…” Jungwoo’s voice lowers as he leans over the bar, “he’s a provider of things that a lot of people like to get their hands on.”

“Huh?” 

“A plug, there, you tortured it out of me, Hyuck is a plug,” Jungwoo throws his hands up as if you just twisted his arm for the information, and you stare at him blankly.

“A plug,” you repeat.

“You can’t be that innocent, babes, you know what I mean.”

You sit back in your chair, thinking it through.

So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess? 

“Where did you even meet Hyuck?” Jungwoo asks.

“In the elevator?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” your friend laughs.

“I don’t know! God, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“There are worse things to be overwhelmed about, I mean… tax season is coming soon, and I don’t know how much fraud I should commit with my tips.” 

You can’t help but laugh at Jungwoo, and he’s succeeded in using humour to calm you down. 

He’s grinning at you, and he taps his hand onto the bar top. “Let me make you a drink, on me, but you’ll be paying me with gossip, deal?” 

“Deal.”

You trust Jungwoo to make you drinks by now, and he doesn’t ask what you want, he simply begins to mix a fruity concoction together. Soon, he’s setting it down in front of you and you’re taking a large gulp.

“So…” he grins. “Hyuck or Jae?”

“Are those my only options?”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen. “Spill the tea.”

“I just… I met this guy Johnny when I moved in-”

“Johnny as in super tall, blue collar, muscle man, Johnny?”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh.

“And you met him the first day you moved in?”

“He actually helped me with boxes and furniture.”

Jungwoo lets out a whistle. “Now I see why you’re overwhelmed.”

“I guess, I just don’t really know any of these guys too well. I’ve only met all of them once-”

“But you have a favourite,” Jungwoo interjects. “Johnny’s your favourite, despite his fucked up job.”

You sigh. “How could you tell?”

“I watch a lot of reality tv, in shows like Love is Blind or Singles Inferno sometimes a girl has multiple guys going for her, but the first one leaves a mark… it’s not always the case though, but it’s about that initial impact.” 

“Impact,” you repeat. “Johnny definitely made an impact… and he saw the notes from Hyuck and Jae.”

“Oooooh,” Jungwoo grins, “scandalous.” 

“But he works away for weeks at a time!”

“He’s here now,” Jungwoo points out. “So… go on a date with him, and sort out Hyuck and Jae after.”

“You think so?”

“What could be wrong about it?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Go on a date with Johnny, see how you feel- maybe he does something gross that turns you off and it makes life easier.”

“Or maybe he’s perfect and it makes things even worse,” you sigh.

“You never know until you try. Another thing from my dating shows is that no one wants to live with regrets, and I don’t think you do either.” 

Seven:

You’d taken Jungwoo’s advice, and after two drinks at the bar, you’re home, waiting for a knock that sounds on your door.

Taking a deep breath, you fix your outfit, approaching your entry way to find Johnny standing in the hall. He looks all tall and gorgeous, in a similar laid back muscle shirt and sweats combo to the one you’d first seen him in. His hair is a little messy and damp as if he’d just come out of a shower, and the smell of his piney bodywash has you going weak. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you smile back. “Uh, come in.”

Johnny nods, stepping past the threshold. “Are you a shoes off in the house kind of girl?”

“Yes, please.”

You watch him kick off his runners before turning to you. “I’m a little confused.”

“You are?”

“I got your text that you wanted me to come over, and I half expected you needed help building some cabinet or something, but then I remembered you’ve been here a month already, so now I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“I told you I’d buy you a beer for helping me move my stuff, remember?” You let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t have beer, but I did open a bottle of wine.”

“That works,” Johnny grins.

“Come, sit.” You move to your living area, taking a seat on the couch. Johnny joins you, and you note the way he immediately shifts his body to be facing you. He watches you pour him a glass, and you both notice your shaky hand as you pass it to him.

“How much have you been drinking, 304?”

“A bit.”

“Rough day?” he enquires with a smile.

“Just…” you let out a deep breath. “Not used to all the attention I’m getting here.”

“Yeah, your entourage.” Johnny sips his drink, still grinning as if this is the funniest thing in the world.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m not the kind of person who loves getting a lot of attention?”

Johnny cocks his head to the side. “I think it’s hard for a girl who looks like you to avoid that sort of thing.”

God, he is into you, you can taste it- or maybe that’s the sweet notes of your wine. 

You don’t know what to say, but you feel a grin appear on your face, your eyes shifting down to your glass. “I don’t know about that.”

“Just an observation,” Johnny laughs. “So… what are you going to do about all of this?”

“I think…” you swallow thickly. “I think I’m doing something right now.”

“Yeah?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Yeah.”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to be at a loss for words, and you get the sense that this isn’t something that happens very often to him.

“I’m sure you know what it’s like to get a lot of attention,” you offer.

Johnny shrugs. “I’m only in town a week every month, and when I’m here I spend most of my time at the gym or at home. I’ve never been a big party guy, I prefer cheap beer to bars, and I guess I’ve just accepted that a guy like me has to be single.”

“You have to be?” you enquire, cocking your head to the side in a bid to understand him better. 

“Most girls aren’t interested in starting anything with a man who works on a rig. I understand the guys who have girls before the job, and they stay after building a foundation, but it’s hard to work on the start of a relationship when you’re not around.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod- in fact, it’s something you’ve considered to great length already. “If… if the right girl came along, would that be something you’re interested in exploring?”

Johnny lets out a deep breath. “That’s a good question.” 

You watch him sip his wine, giving him the space to consider it.

“I just… I wouldn’t want a girl to feel like she’s an afterthought, or a fuck buddy- and doing the work I do, I have to be focused. It’s day rate, it’s dangerous, sometimes the rigs are a couple hours away from camp, and that’s on top of a twelve hour shift-” He lets out another deep sigh. “I think it would take a very special, very loyal kind of girl to give me a chance.”

“And what would you say your type is?”

His eyes meet yours. “I love a cute girl next door.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. “Funny, I like a boy next door.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re neighbours.”

Johnny lifts his glass and you clink yours together, giggling.

It’s crazy how things can feel so comfortable with him already- but in the background of your mind there’s a sense of dread looming, after all, he’s leaving in just two or so days.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Of course.”

“I’m sad you’re leaving soon.”

“I’m not leaving yet,” he points out.

“You know what I mean.”

Johnny shifts, resting his arm on the back of your couch. “I have a proposition for you, 304.”

“God, stop calling me 304,” you laugh.

“It feels like we’re interested in each other, but I get the sense you’re unsure about the long distance aspect. What if we hang out tonight, tomorrow I take you on an actual date, and if things go well, we could talk about what communication would look like when I’m away.”

“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I would like that.”

“But… I have on condition.”

“Hit me.”

Johnny is quiet for a moment. “I’m aware that, no matter how good our dates tonight and tomorrow are, me being away might be too much for you. You have two other guys who are interested and they live here, so… even though I’m a cuddly person, I think it’s better for both of us if we keep things PG before I leave, that way… I mean, if you chose one of them because distance is too much, at least things won’t be awkward for us, and we can still be friends.” 

“I think…” - as much as you hate the idea and want to climb him like a tree - “I think that might be the most mature way to handle this.” 

Johnny nods. “So… what are your thoughts on aliens?”

“Huh?”

“UFO’s, UAP’s, USP’s-”

“What even are all of those?” you laugh.

“Unidentified flying objects, unidentified aerial phenomenon, which is pretty much another term for UFO’s, unidentified submersible phenomenon-”

You shake your head at him in affectionate shock. “Where did you learn all of this?” 

“History network,” Johnny grins. “Listen, why would I ask you surface level questions when we can dive into conspiracy theory? UFO’s are a good way to bounce into all sorts of topics, religion, politics, current and historical events-”

He’s a little odd, but you suppose you understand where he’s coming from now. You decide to give up control, and you lean into his question, loving the twists and turns that the conversation takes. You talk about everything, from the moon landing, to ancient monolithic structures and tv shows about space, a discussion about recent alien films leads to an analysis on favourite actors-

Before you even know it, hours have passed, the wine bottle is empty, and you feel as if you know him a lot better than when he’d first entered your apartment. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asks.

You sigh, looking at the time. “At nine.”

“I should probably get out of your hair then. When are you off?”

“Fiveish.”

Johnny stands up, stretching, and you can’t help the way your eyes move to the exposed strip of V-line when his shirt rises. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at fiveish, 304.”

You rise to your feet, pleasantly surprised when the gentle giant pulls you in for a hug. God, the feeling of his chest against your cheek- the soft cotton of his muscle shirt and the scent of his cologne- you release a deep breath, fully melting into what must be one of the best hugs of your life.

“I’ll text you,” Johnny says, and as he does so, his lips brush the crown of your head.

He’d said PG, and you suppose this is PG, but fuck, you want more.  

Eight:

Out of all the possible date venues, you hadn’t expected bowling. Johnny had told you to dress casually, he’d picked you up, and taken you down to a massive black truck- he’d driven you around town, pointing things out to you, and you’d ended up at a small, underground bowling bar.

He’s a bit of a goof ball, but you can tell he’s got experience playing this game. To compensate for your lack of skills, he does all sorts of trick shots that make him miss points, and you appreciate his effort to not decimate you. 

You drink beer and chat and play, and again, it feels so natural with him. 

When the game is over, the two of you get in the truck, and Johnny says he wants to show you something. A fifteen minute drive leads you to the edge of town, on a lookout that’s perfect now that it’s dark and the small city’s lights are sparkling.

“Do you take all your dates here?” you tease.

Johnny chuckles. “Would you believe me if I told you I haven’t been on a date in a while?”

“I guess with your job, I would,” you pause, looking over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The large man releases a sigh. “I had a highschool sweetheart,” he starts. “But as time went by, she couldn’t deal with me being a blue collar man. She was very corporate, and our life styles weren’t exactly a match. When she broke up with me, I switched from construction to the rig jobs, figured it would be easier to just put my head down and work. Been doing that for about six years now.”

“So you haven’t dated since highschool?” you ask in shock.

“There’ve been a couple of things here and there. Took a few summers off, had flings, but shit always hit the fan when I went back to work.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a family man at heart,” he assures you. “As a supervisor, I definitely make enough money to take care of the people in my life, but it’s always been a time issue.” Johnny takes a breath, and then he meets your gaze. “What about you? Any skeletons in your closet?”

“Had a couple of failed relationships, the last one inspired me to move away from my home city and come here so I guess there’s a silver lining to it. Ended things with my ex about a year ago and nothing really felt the same after that, figured a change of scenery would do me good.”

“And has it? Done you good?”

You look over at the gorgeous man sitting next to you. “Definitely.” 

It feels like the perfect moment to kiss him, and you note the way his gaze dips to your lips, but then he pulls back, letting out a sigh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Me!?” You act scandalized.

“Yes, you, little miss 304.”

You can only laugh, doing your best to enjoy the rest of your date with him while the knowledge that he’s leaving tomorrow haunts in your periphery. 

Nine:

Johnny’s been gone for three days, and he’s been true to his word when you’d discussed communication while he’s on the rig. He’s kept contact with you, sending good morning messages for you to wake up to, and texting or calling in the late evening when he’s off work.

However, other things have progressed as well. You’d come out of your apartment this morning to find not one, but two bouquets waiting for you, and you feel as if this thing with Jaehyun and Hyuck is getting out of hand.

You find yourself at Jungwoo’s bar again, giving him the rundown on everything that has happened.

“So you’re like, set on Johnny then, huh?” your friend asks.

“I’m not sure, it’s only been three days that he’s been gone but I miss him already, and I can’t even imagine what it will be like to wait another nineteen days-”

“You always knew distance would be a struggle,” Jungwoo nods.

You groan, taking a sip of your fruity cocktail. “I just can’t believe Jaehyun and Hyuck left flowers at my door.”

“You’re going to have to do something about them.”

“Like what?”

“Reject or accept, babes,” Jungwoo says simply. 

“Accept?”

“You’re not technically dating Johnny yet. It sounds like he understands you might go on a date or two while he’s gone, I mean, you had that whole conversation about keeping things PG so it’s not awkward if he comes back and you’ve chosen someone else- it feels like he’s giving you breathing room to explore.”

You can only sigh, resting your head in your hands.

“Do you want to explore?” Jungwoo enquires. 

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re going to bump into Jaehyun or Hyuck sometime, so you better figure it out fast.”

Ten:

As you’re returning from happy hour with Jungwoo, you run into your building manager. He’s a young man named Doyoung. He has a very regal look to him, and he’s as attractive as most of the men on the third floor.

He’s in the small building office, and as you walk past, he stops you.

“y/n!” he calls, waving you inside, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you!”

Your heart sinks- your payment wasn’t late, was it? Did you get a noise complaint? Your mind begins to race-

“I heard that people have been leaving notes and flowers at your door,” Doyoung tells you. “As you’re a young woman who is new to the building, I wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re not being harassed.”

Your brain short circuits- it’s one thing for Jungwoo and other people on the third floor to know about your ‘secret admirers’ but another for your building manager to be broaching the topic with you. 

“I uh,” you swallow thickly. “I’m not being harassed.”

Doyoung gives you a pointed look. “You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “It’s all just playful, nothing… nefarious.”

God, you hate how proper you’re trying to sound, but how else are you supposed to explain this situation to Doyoung? 

This is so awkward, who knew moving into a new apartment would be this fucking complex? 

Eleven:

You’re in the lobby checking your mailbox when the front door opens and Jaehyun walks in. His hair is windswept, and he looks like he’s getting back from the gym. He immediately flashes you that dimpled smile and your heart begins to thunder in your rib cage.

“Hey, you,” he grins. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, I’ve uh… been busy,” you offer, quickly closing your mail box.

“Seems that way,” Jaehyun muses, and you realize he’s waiting to go to the elevator with you.

Taking a deep breath, you pull up your big girl panties, walking with him to the lift.

He hits the button, turning to you. “So-”

The elevator opens and you find Hyuck standing there, having just come up from the underground parkade, and suddenly you feel like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hiya, hot stuff,” Hyuck grins. “Going up?”

Part of you wants to turn and run away, but you’re in too deep now to go back, so you enter the elevator with the two men who’ve been fighting for space on your door, and maybe also in your heart.

“How’ve you been?” Hyuck asks.

“I’ve been good, just busy,” you mutter quickly, hitting the ‘close door’ button in the hope that it saves you even one second in this awkward elevator ride.

“You coming from the gym?” Hyuck’s line of questioning has taken a turn, and you realize he’s addressing Jaehyun next to you. 

“Yup, you?”

“Was just out,” Hyuck responds vaguely.

You get the sense that these two might know each other in passing, after all, you all live on the same floor, but at the same time, it’s somewhat clear from their muted interaction that they’re not particularly close.

It’s an awkward, silent minute in the elevator, but it’s even more awkward when you all get off on the third floor, with both men letting you exit first, only to struggle in a pissing match over who follows you.

They end up tracing your steps to your door, and when you get there, they both stop.

“Wait,” Hyuck breathes, and you watch him look from you to Jaehyun then back again. “You must be sticky note dude.”

“And you’re flowers guy,” Jaehyun sighs.

Both of them turn to you and it’s Hyuck who asks, “You’re still single right?”

It must be obvious to them both that if they’re warring at your doorstep, neither of them actually have your number just yet, and while it’s awkward to be put on the spot like this, you understand their confusion.

“Still single,” you assure them, fumbling with your keys. “I uh, actually have only lived here a month, and I’m still getting settled-” you search for the right words while trying not to drop your phone. “I appreciate the interest from you both, but this has gotten a little out of hand- Doyoung asked me about all of this yesterday-”

“Doyoung?” Hyuck scoffs. “What does he care if we leave notes and flowers at your door?”

“I guess he’s just concerned about my safety?” you offer.

While you can tell that Jaehyun understands, Hyuck still seems a little slow to the pick up, rolling his eyes. “As if we’d ever do anything bad.”

Which is funny, coming from a guy who’s supposedly a drug dealer.

“I think I just need some space,” you say finally, shocked by the conviction in your own voice as you slip your key into the lock. “To… you know, settle.”

“I’m sure we can give you some space,” Jaehyun offers, and you can tell from his tone that it’s a warning to Hyuck not to argue.

The plug sighs. “Yeah, we can give some space.”

They’re both very handsome, and upon different circumstances, one of them doing the sticky note and flowers trick might have swayed you, but the fact that it’s become something of a war between them has turned you off. The seriousness in Doyoung’s discussion with you yesterday had made you realize as much, and you’d be lying if you said your growing connection with Johnny didn’t have anything to do with it either.

Twelve:

After the debacle with Jaehyun and Hyuck, you’d anxiously awaited a call with Johnny when he was done work and back at the camp. But now, as you talk to him on the phone, you hesitate about divulging in the events that took place today.

Johnny’s making an effort with you, but you can hear in his voice that he’s exhausted, and you don’t want to add pressure to his shoulders-

“Are you okay, 304?” Johnny asks.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just a bit quiet.”

“I’m thinking,” you admit with a sigh.

“Sounds intense, what’s up?”

Another deep breath escapes you. “So… remember the whole secret admirer thing?”

“Uh huh.”

“They left flowers on my doorstep a few days ago too, and Doyoung actually pulled me aside to ask me about it- he was worried I’m being harassed, and it just makes me think about, you know, being a young woman in a new city and my safety…”

You trail off and Johnny takes the opportunity to empathize, softly telling you, “Being anxious about this sort of thing is reasonable given the circumstances.” 

“It’s not that I think Jaehyun or Hyuck would ever overstep-”

“Well, they left notes, and you didn’t respond, so they left flowers, it’s not exactly a sign that they’re going to back off.”

“I guess that’s true,” you admit.

“Anyways, you were saying, about Doyoung?” 

You love how Johnny can get you back on track, and you take another deep breath to steady yourself. “I saw Jaehyun and Hyuck in the elevator today, and they both walked me to my door which was super awkward, and I guess I pretty much ended up telling them both that I needed space. Part of me wasn’t sure if I should tell you any of this, I know you’re tired after work a long day, but I guess I want to be transparent with you about everything.”

The line is quiet for a moment, and when Johnny speaks, you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “I appreciate you bringing it up,” he starts. “If I’m being honest, I’m a little shocked you didn’t accept either of their offers to get drinks.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought I’d made it clear that I’d understand if you did-”

“Just because you’d understand it doesn’t mean I was going to do it,” you tell him.

Johnny chuckles. “I suppose that’s true. I just, I don’t know, you don’t owe me anything- and maybe you’re just not interested in either of them, but I hope you didn’t say no to them to… spare my feelings or something?”

“Well… are your feelings spared?” 

Another laugh escapes him. “I just mean to say, this wouldn’t be the first time a girl thought she could do long distance, only to get a better option in town and jump ship.”

“Maybe I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated,” you tell him.

“It’s starting to feel like you’re not.” You can hear the fondness in his voice, and it makes your heart race faster in your chest. 

“When I get one man in my head, I can’t think about another. I’m not the type to jump ship,” you explain. “You’ve given me no reason to.”

“Except the distance,” he muses.

“Even with the distance, you’ve been attentive every day, and I’ve really appreciated that. You know, some guys will live in the same city as you, take you on one date, then not talk to you for five days- you and I did two dates back to back, and we’ve been talking consistently ever since.”

“Like I said, I didn’t want you to feel like an afterthought.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like just an option.” 

The line is quiet for a moment, then Johnny laughs. “There you go, being dangerous again.”

“If being genuine is dangerous, then I’m the most dangerous woman you’ll ever meet, Johnny.”

“I work on a rig, 304, I happen to like danger.” 

Thirteen:

You’re drinking wine with Jungwoo in your livingroom when your phone dings, and a smile spreads across your face when you see it’s a text from Johnny.

“One second,” you tell him, putting down your wine to respond to your blue collar man.

“Johnny?” Jungwoo grins knowingly.

“Yup, he’s just telling me he’s off work, but now it’s a two hour drive back to the camp.”

“So our girls’ night is over in two hours, got it,” Jungwoo jokes, except, is it really a joke if it’s true?

You can only laugh, shaking your head and setting your phone down again.

“You like him,” Jungwoo notes. “You like him a lot.” 

“I do,” you confess.

“You told Jaehyun and Hyuck off because of him,” your friend continues.

“Uh huh.” You take a sip of your wine, trying to ignore the knowing expression on Jungwoo’s face.

“So… has it gotten sexual yet? You know, asking for snaps of your tits-”

“Jungwoo!” you squeal, nearly spilling your wine as you go to gently smack his arm.

“What!? It’s a valid question!”

“No! It’s not sexual yet! I mean… I think we both have those feelings, but right now… we’re just, getting to know each other.”

“And when he’s home?” Jungwoo cocks a brow and you giggle even more.

“When he’s home…” you lower your voice, “I’m going to climb that man like a tree.”

“I knew it!” Jungwoo cheers. “Team Johnny!”

You clink your glasses in agreement, waiting for Jungwoo to settle down a little. He’s way too invested in your love life, but you kind of adore it. 

“You know…” Jungwoo trails off, “some rig guys do mostly winters, then come back for the summer and will take a couple of months off. I remember seeing Johnny more frequently last August.”

“He mentioned that,” you admit. 

“Did he say if he plans to do that this year? It’s almost March, so that’s April, May, maybe June… three or four more stints up there until a possible summer of love?”

You laugh at his choice of words, but your heart races at the notion of getting to spend your whole summer with Johnny, of a relationship of normalcy. 

“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” you decide.

“Maybe send some sexy snaps to tempt him, or talk about it once he’s home and you’ve sucked that dick, you know, incentives.”

“You’re so bad,” you giggle.

“I’m a hit of realism, which is what you need after living a fantasy for a month with three men fighting over you.”

You let out a sigh. “I suppose you might be right about that.”

Fourteen:

“How was your day?” you ask, practically kicking your feet now that you get to talk to Johnny.

“Long,” he laughs. “You?”

“It was good, hung out with Jungwoo for a bit, had some wine.”

“I can hear it in your voice, 304, you always get extra cute when you’ve been drinking your wine.”

“Do I?” 

“See? I can just imagine you kicking your feet right now.”

God, he knows you so well already- but you suppose that’s what happens when you talk to someone for hours every day. 

“And now you probably stopped kicking your feet because you’re embarrassed,” he continues.

“You’re a psychic,” you declare.

“Sure I am.”

You take a breath. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“So… you mentioned that sometimes you have the summer off, and I guess, since it’s almost March, I was just wondering if you’d be around in June or July.”

“I mean, I wasn’t necessarily planning on it, but if that’s something you wanted, I could see what I could make happen.”

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t want to tell you what to do… and, I don’t want you to lose out on money for me, especially since we just started dating, if you even call this dating- but, at the same time, I think, long term, it would be easier to manage you going away for six or more months if I knew you’d be back for at least part of the summer.”

“I do call this dating,” Johnny tells you. “So I’ll see what I can do about it.”

“I also wanted to know when you’re flight back is, I was thinking I could come grab you from the airport.” 

Johnny chuckles. “I’ll send you the information, 304.” 

Fifteen:

You’re waiting outside your car when you see Johnny coming out of the airport, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore. You run to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

Johnny chuckles, dropping his duffle to pull you closer, even going so far as to lift you off the ground, releasing a groan as he does so.

Fuck, he feels so good, and big, and warm-

When he sets you down, you throw inhibition out the window, grabbing the back of his neck to pull his lips down to your own.

He smiles into the kiss, his palm flattening against the small of your back, his mouth moving in harmony with your own. You kiss him deeply, pouring in all the emotion of having missed him for weeks- 

It’s you who breaks the kiss, panting and looking up at him. “Let’s get you home,” you state. 

“Whatever you say, 304.”

The drive back to the apartment complex is a blur, you’re so distracted by Johnny that you’re surprised you even make it back in one piece. The elevator ride is quiet, filled with tension, and you can practically feel happiness radiating off of both of you.

“Wanna come to mine?” Johnny suggests. “I need to have a quick shower, unpack a little.”

“Okay,” you nod, excited as you follow Johnny to his place.

He lets you in first, and you eagerly eat up what’s in front of you, looking for details of the decor that might help you know this man even better.

However, you find that his apartment is sparsely decorated, with bare necessities, a minimalist look, which you suppose makes sense given the fact that he’s hardly here.

“Your place is nicer,” Johnny muses as he kicks off his shoes. 

“It’s just more furnished,” you laugh, not minding the lack of items.

“My bedroom is this way,” Johnny explains, heading into it while you follow slowly. He throws his bag on the floor next to his bed before turning to you. “I’m going to wash up a bit, then we can do whatever you want… or, I mean, you could always join me in the shower if that works better.”

He winks at you, and it’s very playful. You can only laugh, shaking your head and feeling your skin flush with heat as you look at the ground.

“I’ll be here,” you tell him, but when he disappears into the bathroom, you find your heart is still racing.

Should you go in the shower with him? 

He had offered for you to join…

Can you be a bit more patient?

No. You can’t. As you stand in his bedroom, you begin to undress, hyping yourself up for the moment that you’ve been waiting for.

After a deep breath, you knock gently on the door to his bathroom.

“Come in!” he calls over the sound of water spray, and you peek your head into the enclosed space. 

The room is full of steam, and the glassy walls of the shower are fogged up, but you can see the outline of Johnny’s body and it has you drooling.

You slip inside, closing the door behind you before making your way to the shower.

“Can I join you?” you ask, giving him one last opportunity to decide if this was a bad idea-

“Get in here.” Johnny opens the shower door, grabs your arm and tugs you inside with him. You blink against the mist, looking up at the large man who’s currently blocking the spray of water from hitting you. “Didn’t think you’d actually join,” he muses with a grin.

“Me neither,” you admit.

Johnny strokes your arm, fingers trailing up so he can cup your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone and you lean into his warm touch, releasing a moan. 

“Do you want to do this here, or would you rather we wait till I can get you onto my bed?” he asks.

“Here,” you tell him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“Didn’t take you as the impatient type,” Johnny chuckles.

“I’ve been patient, for weeks,” you laugh.

“I guess that’s true, let’s fix that.” The tall man leans down, pressing his lips to your own. You immediately wrap your arms around his strong, wet shoulders, pressing your chests together as the kiss deepens. 

You can feel your nipples hardening against him, and his hands move to grab at your hips, pulling you even tighter to his body.

Something is beginning to press against your abdomen, and you love that you’re getting him hard already, that he’s as into you as you are into him. 

His palm slips down, and he grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing deliciously. You break the kiss to throw your head back, eyes closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.

“You know the only bad thing about shower sex?” Johnny asks, lips hot against your throat now. “Water isn’t lube, so I guess you’re going to have to be a good girl for me and wait just a little longer while I get you nice and wet for me.”

“I’m already wet,” you insist.

Johnny only chuckles, squeezing your ass harder as he licks at the sweet spot on your throat. “Let me enjoy this, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

“Really?” you groan. “I never would have noticed, you’re always so PG.”

“I’m not going to be PG anymore.”

“Thank god!” A shiver runs through your body at the idea of what ‘rated R Johnny’ is going to look like- and as he pushes his thigh up between your own, you’re so grateful that you no longer have to wonder, you’re about to find out exactly how dirty this blue collar man can get.

Johnny laughs again, but as he laughs, he pushes his thigh up even higher, making contact with your clit.

“Fuck, I haven’t been touched in so long,” you whimper, immediately grinding down against him.

“Well, you deserve this, you’ve been a very patient, very good girl for me.” 

“I have been,” you nod, rubbing your clit harder against his large, muscled thigh.

“Had options, but you stayed loyal, even when you didn’t have to.” Johnny’s still kissing your throat, and he nuzzles up against your ear, biting your lobe gently. “I feel like those choices have earned you many rewards.”

His words are something like praise- appreciation almost, and you’re thankful that he’s taken into account the fact that you’ve made important decisions to put this blooming relationship first, even when - as Jungwoo said - you had no actual defined loyalty keeping you tied to this tall man.

“I just like you a lot,” you moan, feeling overwhelmed with the possibilities of a relationship with this man- a man who has communicated that he’s interested in something long term, which is such a stark contrast to most of the men you deal with these days.

God, to have hope for a man again- it’s such a foreign feeling.

“I like you too, 304.”

“Johnny,” you groan, “call me something else.”

“I think 304 is cute,” he grins against your throat.

“Please?”

“Okay, baby, I’ll call you anything you want,” Johnny promises, adjusting his grip on you so he can trail his hand up your torso, putting a slight distance between your bodies now so he can cup your breast. His thumb rubs over your hard nipple and you whimper, grinding harder against his thigh. “You are a baby, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“I could also see you as a bit of a princess,” he muses, pinching your nipple and making you gasp loudly. “Adorable little pretty princess baby.”

He might be overdoing it with the pet names, but you can’t even bring yourself to care- in fact, this overt cheesiness is doing something to you, making your pussy throb as you grind against his wet skin.

“That’s it,” Johnny groans, “I kind of want to watch you get off on my thigh.”

“Yeah?” You swallow thickly, reaching for his hard cock. You’re a little taken aback by how large he is, but you guess you shouldn’t be all that surprised. You’ve been shy so far, not even taking so much as a peek at what you’re going to be working with- and maybe that had been a mistake. You’d been so sure of yourself earlier when you’d told Johnny you could take him without prep, and now you’re realizing how wrong you had been.

A deep moan escapes Johnny as you begin to stroke him, and he rolls your nipple between his fingers, making you cry out- only for his hand to move away, along with his thigh.

You want to protest- only for two digits to press between your pussy lips, teasing your entrance but not pushing in- just playing, toying, moving up to your clit then back down.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“You definitely feel wet,” Johnny muses.

“So finger fuck me?” you suggest, applying more pressure to his cock as you stroke him off.

“Hmm?” He circles your clit teasingly, being so gentle that your body is already practically begging for more.

“Please finger fuck me?” you ask, your free hand now clutching his forearm in desperation.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Johnny cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his as his fingers enter your hot core for the first time.

Fuck, his fingers alone are enough to stretch you out and it feels absolutely delightful. 

He starts slow, testing the waters as his digits explore your inner walls gently, but as the kiss deepens so do his motions.

You’re absolutely lost in him, whimpering and moaning- your hips even begin to move, eagerly seeking out stimulus that he grants when his palm presses flat to your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, holding his strong, veiny forearm even tighter.

“Feels good?” he asks, looking down at you with lust filled eyes.

“Feels so good,” you nod, fighting the urge to just close your eyes and enjoy it, while also wanting to stare up at this gorgeous man who is watching you with clear interest.

You take a shuddery breath, trying to focus on stroking his cock, but he makes it more difficult when he crooks his fingers up, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you that has your legs shaking.

“Are you going to be able to stand through all of this?” Johnny chuckles. “That’s the other bad thing about shower sex, it’s a slipping risk.”

“I think I can do it,” you insist, not wanting him to stop his motions for even one moment.

“Just hold onto me tightly okay, but if you start to fall, uh… don’t pull my dick off.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, and Johnny joins you with a chuckle of his own.

This feels so natural, so safe- the fact that you’re both giggling during your first sexual experience together is a great sign, and it makes you relax a little more, which only adds to the pleasure that’s starting to throb out from your core.

“You close?” Johnny asks, sensing the shift in your attention.

“Too close,” you nod, swallowing thickly in an effort to control yourself.

“Want you to cum on my fingers,” he tells you. “You can do that for me, right princess?”

“Uh huh.” Your mind is becoming clouded by lust, and it’s making it harder for you to respond to him-

His fingers are moving fast now, pistoning in and out of you with just the right amount of pressure, his palm stimulating your clit in a way that’s just enough-

You’re getting closer and closer to the edge and you don’t feel like slowing down. 

Your eyes close, your breathing becoming haggard as your muscles tighten with anticipation-

“Cum on my fingers, baby,” Johnny groans. “Wanna feel it.” 

With that, you explode, unable to contain yourself anymore as his filthy words vibrate through your entire being like a mantra. The pleasure is intense, your core clamping down on his digits, body throbbing deliciously as you give yourself over to the feeling of it.

Your legs are weak, and you grab Johnny’s forearm tighter, digging your nails against his skin.

It’s the kind of ecstasy that you never want to end, and it’s clear that Johnny’s not going to be the one to pull the rug out from under you. He keeps you steady, working you through your high until your legs are physically shaking.

Only once he’s sure you’re finished does Johnny pull his hand away.

You open your eyes to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you, and an echo of pleasure throbs through your pussy again.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” Johnny tells you.

“Want you inside of me, now,” you respond.

“Hmmm… not yet.”

“What?” 

“You almost just fell over, I don’t think this is the safest place to do this,” Johnny laughs. “Come on, let's get out of the shower, dry off, and I’ll take you to my bed, like I’d planned.”

“Is it really that bad to fuck me here?” you whine.

“One, I don’t want you to slip, and two, I don’t want our first time to be here, you deserve a proper bed, so I can cuddle you after.” 

“You’re such a romantic,” you tease, but your heart swells at the notion of a man actually taking care of you.

“You love it,” Johnny insists.

He reaches behind himself, turning off the spray of water, then, he helps you out of the enclosed space. “Here,” Johnny passes you a towel, quickly patting himself down with his own before wrapping it around his waist, then he begins to help dry you off.

“I can do this part,” you assure him.

“I want to take care of you,” Johnny muses as his palms massage your breasts through the towel, making sure they’re extra dry.

“I think you just want to touch my tits again,” you grin.

“That too,” Johnny laughs.

“Predictable,” you toy.

“You think so?”

“Uh huh.”

In one quick motion, Johnny grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto the washroom countertop, tearing the towel away and discarding it haphazardly as he sinks to his knees.

“I think I’m going to make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you, you know, to prove how predictable I am.”

You don’t even have a moment to argue, Johnny pushes your thighs open, pulls you to the edge of the counter, and dives into your core with his tongue. 

You immediately latch onto his damp hair, throwing your head back as his mouth begins to work your pussy. You’re still sensitive from having just cum, and the sensation of his lips now wrapping around your clit has your muscles clenching with pleasure already. 

“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the way Johnny’s fingers are digging into your thighs, holding you open for a tongue that has a mind of its own.

You especially adore how messy he’s being. There are no kitten licks, no hesitancies, just a full-on lust fuelled ravaging of your core- nothing in your life has ever felt this fucking good.

You tug on Johnny’s hair roughly, but he’s unrelenting, in fact, you think he kind of likes the inkling of pain because he groans against your clit, licking at you sloppily while his nose bumps your sensitive bud over and over.

For a man who doesn’t do one night stands very often, he definitely knows his way around a pussy.

“Shit,” you moan, louder this time, your muscles tightening more and more-

You’re not used to men behaving this way with you, worshiping your body and putting your pleasure first. To have two back to back orgasms before he’s even taken anything for himself? Unheard of.

You can tell he wants you to cum, can tell that he’s eager for it, and the wet licks of his tongue against your sensitive pussy are ensuring that his preferred outcome happens sooner rather than later.

You give in to the feeling, deciding to relinquish control. If he wants to make you cum fast, then you can cum fast, and all of your attention moves to the feeling of pleasure that’s radiating out from your core.

Your abdominal muscles are tightening deliciously, and you begin to buck your hips a little, trying to ride his tongue while you hold him tight to your pussy by his hair.

Johnny groans again and the vibration of it sends a shiver of delight through your entire body.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You swallow thickly, brows furrowing with effort as you latch onto that feeling of euphoria, unwilling to let it drift away- “just like that, just like that-”

He sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking it with his tongue, and that’s all you need to explode, your pussy clamping down hard on nothing, squeezing and squelching sinfully. 

You’re gasping loudly, moaning like a whore as your orgasm washes over you in waves- and like your first high, Johnny is just as unrelenting with this one.

He doesn’t pull away, and with so much attention focused on your throbbing clit, it’s almost too much for you to handle.

You begin to push at Johnny’s head, but he’s like a brick wall, unmoving and diligent in his task.

“Oh my god-” your voice is raising with effort, raising with the euphoria that’s threatening to overwhelm you completely. “Johnny- too much-”

This time, he allows you to push him away, and you sink back down against the countertop, chest heaving with effort. Your legs twitch with aftershocks from your orgasm, and you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes yet, still lost in the ecstasy he’d just provided.

“You okay, princess?” Johnny asks, and you can sense him rising to his feet, his eyes inspecting you.

“Overstimulated,” you admit, another shock washing through you and making you jolt.

“I got side tracked,” Johnny admits, and you peer out at him from under hooded lids to see him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay, it was just a lot,” you assure him, reaching out to gently stroke his forearm. 

“Come on,” Johnny coaxes, lifting you off the sink so he can carry you to his room, “let’s give you a breather.”

He lays you gently onto his mattress, moving the blankets so you can get under the warm duvet.

The sheets smell like him, a manly pine scent, and it makes you groan, burying your face against the pillows while your brain tries to reaclimatize after a mind shattering orgasm.

Johnny joins you, and you instinctively cuddle close to his chest, delighted by the way his large arms wrap around you to hold you close.

“Just give me a sec,” you whisper, but even as the words leave your lips, your hand snakes down to his cock, and you gently wrap your fingers around the thick length.

Johnny chuckles. “Part of me thought you’d be too tired to actually fuck now.”

“Never,” you tell him, although you’re so exhausted from two extreme orgasms that there’s little conviction in the tone of your voice. 

“Take your time,” Johnny assures you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head while you languidly stroke his large cock. Unlike in the shower, however, there’s no lubrication of any kind, and soon, you tire of it.

“Okay,” you tell him, sitting up, “I can ride you.”

“Are you sure you want to be on top?” he blinks in shock. 

“Just to start, just to get used to your size,” you assure him.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

You swing your leg over Johnny’s hips, straddling him, and his hands find your waist. 

“Actually, let me grab some lube,” he says, sitting up abruptly. The muscles in his abdomen ripple under the skin, and you’re taken aback by just how beautiful this man is even as he’s reaching for his bedside table.

He pulls out a green bottle, squirting some of the gell into his palm before he grabs his cock.

You kind of love the view of his large hand on his massive cock, stroking up and down-

“Like what you see?” he laughs.

“You’re just so perfect,” you muse.

“That makes two of us I guess,” Johnny grins. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”

He’s all lathered up now, and you grab the base of his cock, guiding yourself down on the tip. 

As you sink down even an inch, you groan at the stretch.

He’s covered in lube, and you’re definitely more than lubricated from two orgasms, but fuck- having not had sex in ages only to take the biggest cock of your life is definitely an adjustment for your tight pussy.

“Take it slow,” he assures you, tightening his grip on your hips to keep you steady as you gently sink down further on his cock.

“I’m good, you’re just so big,” you whimper.

Johnny only chuckles at your words, his eyes fixed on the meeting of your bodies.

“Not sure I can take it all like this,” you admit.

“I’ve heard that when a girl is on top, things feel deeper,” Johnny muses. “Don’t feel like you have to take it all right now, we can work up to that.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’m going to bounce a bit.”

“Works for me, princess.”

You close your eyes, leaning over him and placing your hands firmly on his chest as an anchor as you begin to move up and down. The feeling of his massive cock against your inner walls has your body singing with pleasure already, and you begin to moan.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “Feels good.”

“So good,” you agree with another whimper.

One of Johnny’s hands moves from your hip to your breast, and he begins to massage the sensitive flesh as you ride him gently. The sensation of him tweaking your nipple has you groaning, your pussy clenching incredibly tight around him, which makes both of you cry out desperately.

“Fuck, let me know when you want me to take over,” Johnny tells you, and you get the sense that you might be killing him a little with the slowness of your pace. His hips twitch, and you suspect that he’s doing everything in his power not to madly thrust up into you, which is something you appreciate greatly.

You ride him for a little while longer, and then you give up, legs burning with effort already. “Okay, okay, you can top now.”

You pull off of his cock, and Johnny helps you roll down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

Instead of just getting on top of you, however, he stays on his side and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours while his hand continues to massage your breast.

You groan against his lips, threading your fingers through his hair desperately as his tongue invades your mouth.

He kisses you until you’re breathless, until your pussy is pulsing with desire, only then does he get between your legs, bringing the head of his cock to your awaiting hole.

“If you ever need me to slow down, or be less rough, or anything, just let me know,” he tells you, swallowing thickly as he gazes at your body.

“Just do it, Johnny,” you assure him, stroking his forearm. “Please.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob with effort again, and he slowly pushes the head of his cock into your wet hole, making you cry out. You grip his arm tighter, closing your eyes to enjoy the stretching sensation.

He sinks into you, inch by inch, gently thrusting to get you used to the intrusion.

When he’s almost fully inside of you, Johnny leans over your body, his elbows making contact with the bed on either side of your head so he can be in something of a plank position overtop of you.

You can feel his breath on your face, and you open your eyes to look up at him, your hand moving to cup his cheek while your legs wrap loosely around his waist.

“You can fuck me now,” you tease, grinning at how slow and gentle he’s been up until this point. “Please.” 

Johnny presses his lips to yours, and just like that, he begins to move.

Each thrust is unbound pleasure, his hips moving fluidly as he gradually increases his pace. His long cock hits deep spots inside of you that have you crying out, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders while your tongues battle for dominance in the most heated kiss of your life.

He’s moaning too, and it sounds so good- making your pussy even wetter as he decimates it perfectly.

You love the feeling of his large body pressing down against your own, his hard muscles are delightful under your touch when you skim your hand along his shoulders.

He’s steadily increasing the power behind each thrust, and now, the bed is beginning to rock with his movements, delighting you even more.

How can this man have so much raw power, but still be so gentle and careful when it matters most?

You might be a little obsessed with him, but as his massive cock hits your g-spot, you suppose it’s no wonder your feelings are growing at a rapid pace.

He has you cock drunk, in a way that you’ve never experienced in the entirety of your life, and you kind of love it.

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, breaking your kiss so he can press his mouth to your throat. “I never- never asked about protection.”

“I’m covered,” you assure him.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “You can cum inside me.”

A deep groan escapes Johnny, and it vibrates through where your chests are pressed together.

“Don’t want to cum like this,” Johnny tells you, “it’s too soon.”

He pulls away, and you whimper when his cock leaves your wet hole. But then Johnny is manhandling you into doggy position, and you let out a moan of pleasure, arching your back and resting your head against the bed.

“You look good like this too,” Johnny muses as he pushes his cock back into you, his hands grabbing your hips roughly. “Always look so good.”

His praise is doing something to you, encouraging you enough to make you begin to move as well, doing your best to match his pace and push back against him with each thrust.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and your moans mingle in the air together.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, railing into you even harder. “So fucking tight-”

“I’m close,” you assure him, “just let me-” you slip your hand between your thighs, fingers seeking out your sensitive clit. The moment you make contact, you feel your pussy contract around Johnny’s cock, and it makes you both moan loudly.

“Yeah, want you to cum with me,” Johnny tells you. “Want us to cum together.”

You don’t respond, too focused on your task as you begin to draw small circles around the sensitive bud.

God, nothing has ever felt this good, to be so completely full, while your clit is receiving attention at the same time-

The tension is quickly building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s clear to both of you that you’re rapidly approaching the edge-

“Here,” Johnny’s voice distracts you, and all of the sudden he’s hauling you onto your knees, pinning your back to his chest with an arm braced across your breasts, one hand cupping your boob like a seatbelt. You can feel his breath on your throat, and you quickly turn your head, seeking out his lips with your own.

His free hand pushes yours aside from your clit, applying even more pressure to your sensitive bud as he fucks into you erratically.

God, you feel him absolutely everywhere. You feel like a doll, suspended in time and space while this absolute unit of a man gives you all of the pleasure you could ever ask for, pulling at your strings like an expert.

He’s groaning more deeply- and with one more rough circle of your clit, you feel yourself come undone. You gasp against his lips, core clamping down on his cock-

A strangled sound escapes Johnny, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he cums with you, coating your throbbing insides with his cum as you both fall off the edge together.

He’s clinging to you in a way a man has never clung to you, and you’re kissing him as if he’s the air you need to breathe. In this moment, it’s only you and him and this feeling of euphoria that you never want to give up.

He fucks you through your high until you’re both a panting mess, and then, he helps you back onto the bed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to go get some tissues,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You can only moan happily, inhaling the scent of pine as you cuddle against his pillow.

Johnny returns shortly, and he hands you some tissues to wipe his cum from your core.

“Should we take another shower or something?” Johnny asks, laughing a little at how messy you both are.

“Cuddles first,” you tell him.

Johnny grins, joining you on his bed, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you. “Cuddles first,” he agrees.

You both take deep breaths, and as your body begins to calm down while pressed against his, you know you made the right choice of man in this fucked up, love island-esque apartment complex that you now call home.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This was way longer than I intended, which is why it took a minute to be posted, but I hope it was worth the wait!

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🔮 preview.  In the summer, Johnny’s not just a blue collar rig man, he’s a dude with friends, tanned skin from his obsession with the sun, and a taste for margaritas while sitting on boats between water skiing stints.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of toys, vibrator, nipple clamps, overstimulation, breast worship, use of lube, inklings of pain kink, hand job, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, etc…   I petnames. (hers) princess

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 100

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

People sometimes talk about a specific summer in their life being ‘the summer of dreams,’ and you never quite understood what could make one stretch of months so significant- but now, living life with Johnny by your side every day, it makes total sense.

In the few months you’ve been dating, he’s done his best to introduce you to friends, but with such a short time in town, it was always difficult to juggle friends, family, and your growing relationship.

Now that it’s summer, you get to see how Johnny is when he’s just being himself.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.8k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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[lovemebutleavemewild]

Johnny brings you to base for inspection by his superior officer.

When Johnny brings you to meet his friends on base, you're a little nervous, sure, but it's nothing you can't handle.

Of course, military men are brash, but they're nothing on your Johnny, and when they make their jokes, you're more than able to give back as good as you get.

But then Johnny tells you it's time to meet Ghost.

"My lieutenant, hen. My boss."

And you think that's why he sounds nervous, that he wants to impress the man, so you go with him to his office, knock and are told to come inside.

Find it very sexy when Johnny stands to attention in front of the man, actually.

Ghost is ... something else and you don't want to ruin anything for Johnny by ogling, but ... you've always had a thing for masks and dominating men, so seeing your own man submit to another is doing things to you.

"This her?" the man asks, jerking his head at you.

"Yes sir," Johnny says, not moving, even as his superior stands and comes around the desk to lean against it. He clicks his fingers at you.

"Here. Now." You blink and look at Johnny, not sure how to respond to being talked to like a dog, but he doesn't say anything.

Suddenly the man on the desks stands to his full height and strides towards you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

"Don't look at him. I gave you an instruction,"  he almost snarls. "Do y'know why you're here?"

You shake your head jerkily, suddenly sure that "to meet Johnny's friends" is not the right answer.

"Well, Johnny here kep' on about his new pretty bird and I decided I had to check things out, make sure you were good for him. Told him to bring you right in for inspection."

"In-inspection?" you squeak. Ghost leans down so he's looking at you directly through the slits in his mask.

"Said you wouldn't mind. Said you were his dirty girl. Tha' right'?"

And the thing is, Johnny has called you that before and nothing gets you going more. It's no different now. So you just nod dumbly, seeing the edges of his mask lift when he smiles.

He leans back against the desk, leaving you alone in the middle of the room.

"So strip."

And you do, pulling your jumper over your head and slipping out of your shoes, tights, skirt. You're wearing a matching bra and panties, had some vision of what you and Johnny would do when you got home.

Ghost circles you slowly.

"Hmm, nice lil' set," he says, pushing his finger under the strap of your underwear and letting it go so it snaps back against your leg.

"But not very good at following instructions," he rumbles. "Told you to strip, darlin'. Why'd you stop?"

You shiver and, with shaky hands, undo the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the side. Finally, you push your underwear down, stepping out of them.

Ghost watches you, eyes unfathomable. Then he speaks again.

"Bend over the desk."

When you do, he leans over you, letting his hand run down your side and over your ass.

He tuts.

"No marks, Johnny? Not even one little bite?"

His hand flashes up suddenly and comes down hard on your ass, making you gasp. He leans over you, front pressed to your back so he can reach your ear with his mouth.

"We better fix that."

[dixonsstinkysock]

Are you laughing at my brother?

summary - tommy will learn to listen to you one way or another.

pairing - shelby family x reader

warnings - none

notes - this is not supposed to be taken seriously but this was my dream and i have to get it out somehow

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist

You walk into the open doorway of the snug, adjusting you purse and sitting in the empty seat obviously for saved for you. It was late, the Garrison was empty but not because of the time of night. The Shelby’s had cleared it out specifically for this meeting, as they do with every family meeting they have here.

Everyone was gathered around, sat at the table, even Ada. Which was rare considering she wanted nothing to do with things like this…must be important.

“Alright, you’ve finally got me here, Thomas. What is it you want?” You take a sip of the whiskey they had sat in front of you. “Make it quick, please, I have a life to get back to.”

It’s completely silent before someone finally speaks up, it’s John. You’ve always liked him, he had a certain charm when it came to…charming women. He was always respectful to you though, you had thought if things go south…he might be a second choice.

“Well uh…We found some…information on our new barmaid.”

“Oh really?”

This time Arthur speaks, “Yeah…Information.” He gently throws his hands up and sits back in his seat. You sit back in your own seat, purse sitting on your lap. You start to piece together what they are going to say, after all, you had warned the Shelby family way too many times. Polly scoffs, blowing smoke from her rouge lips.

“Oh for fucks sake—Grace was a spy. You were right all along.”

You freeze, hand still halfway to your almost empty glass. Your nervousness from the past silence was getting to you. After hearing what Polly said, the truth, you thought maybe there was a god. A god who hated Thomas Shelby just as much as you did and wanted to embarrass the hell out of him.

You burst out in laughter, loud and happily, right in the infamous Peaky Blinders leader’s face. His eyes were locked onto you, smoke leaving his nostrils and lips.

“Something funny, (Y/N)?” He questioned, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Only the most hilarious thing that could ever happen!” You continue to laugh in his face, no one else joining in, they wouldn’t want to face Tommy’s wrath after you left…if you did leave. “What did I tell you, Tom?!”

“How’s your plan working out for you? Ha!”

After a few more moments of your loud laughter, you calm down, pouring yourself another drink. “My god, I’ve never laughed that hard in a long time. Who knew it would be at your expense.”

“(Y/N), unfortunately I didn’t invite you here to laugh at my decisions.”

You take a sip of your second glass of the brown liquid, “Mhmm, what did you call me here for, Thomas?” You set the crystal glass down, noticing Tommy brought out his nicer ones…hmm. You adjust your top, no reason really just to make yourself look busy.

“I need you back, (Y/N).”

You laugh again, not as long and loud as the last one but just a chuckle, you almost choked on your drink when you heard him.

“Don’t want me anymore, but you need me.”

He goes to respond when you cut him off— “Thomas, sweet Thomas…No.”

He doesn’t look taken aback, as if he was expecting your answer. Which, in all fairness, he should’ve been. You and Tommy had something, something real and raw. Then, Ms. Grace Burgess came along, all sweet and soft…You tried warning him about your suspicions but Tommy threw you to the side once he got his eyes of her. So you did something that would hurt him right back, you left. You left on a random day, took some of his stash and left.

You knew you wouldn’t be gone for long, you knew what Grace was and you knew what Tommy would do to get you back once he’s had his fun. After a while though, you got comfortable in your new life, you were happy. A nice job, no dirty, bloody men around every corner. Even thought the Shelby family had their good moments, you weren’t sure if it was all worth it anymore.

“You’ve made your bed and now you’ll lie in it.”

You pick up your belongings and walk out, not caring to stop for Tommy calling your name. Who does he think he is? Wanting you to crawl back to him after he’s fucked another woman, after he’s betrayed you. The Garrison door slams shut from its weight, leaving the rooms filled with silence. “Isn’t that wonderful…” Polly brings her cigarette back to her lips, breathing in.

“…So what now, Tom?” John looks to his elder brother, still a little confused on what just happened.

“She’ll be back.”

Arthur speaks now, “Ha…Tommy, I don’t know if you heard her but, uhh no. She won’t.”

“She will. Go on, you all have things to do while we wait.”

words:idk

anyways guys random, like i said

C U L8TER! 💚

[demie90s]

Hello can you do USC x R. R plays to win she doesn’t play to have a nice time. What happens when somebody sits a hard screen on juju. Someone’s got to step in to stop her.

Play to Win

USC WBB x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: I don’t play for fun. I play to win. So when someone sets a dirty screen on Juju? I don’t think—I react.

Warnings: Protective behavior, on-court aggression, ride-or-die teammate energy, intense emotions

Word count~0.6k

I don’t care about handshakes, highlight reels, or who brought their whole damn family to the game. I care about locking in, doing damage, and walking off the court with a W.

So when someone threw a blind screen into Juju—shoulder straight into her chest, no warning, no ball, just spite—it felt like the whole gym paused.

She hit the floor hard. Her body folded in a way I didn’t like. Not slow. Not careful. And everybody just froze.

Refs? Nothing.

Bench? Quiet.

Crowd? Gasped.

And the other team? Just kept moving like Juju didn’t have ribs.

Nah. That didn’t sit right.

I started walking before I even processed it. The game was still live, but I didn’t care. I stormed straight up to the girl who hit her—jersey bunched in my fists before anyone could blink.

“You think that was basketball?” I said, teeth clenched. My voice was low, tight, and on edge. I could feel heat crawling up my spine, chest tight like I was ready to snap. “You think that was cute?”

She didn’t say anything—just smirked, shrugging like it wasn’t her problem. Juju was still on the floor, hand on her side, and all I could think was: Why didn’t anyone else move first?

And yeah—I saw Rayah sprinting over, Avery calling time out with her whole body, Aaliyah trying to get the ref’s attention, Kiki holding back Dom, who had already thrown her towel halfway across the bench. But that was after. That was after I got loud.

Because in that moment? It was me standing in front of her like the whole court belonged to us.

“Do it again,” I said. “Try it again. I dare you.”

Ref finally blew the whistle. Late. Like two plays too late. Coach was yelling now. Our whole bench up. The other team pretending like they didn’t know what the screen was.

Dom ran out in her slides, yelling, “YOU TOUCHED THE WRONG ONE!”

Kiki behind her, grabbing the back of her jersey. “Dom, please—don’t make us viral.”

Rayah and Avery got to Juju first, pulling her up slow, eyes wide like they couldn’t believe it. Aaliyah looked me dead in the face and whispered, “Breathe.”

And I tried. I really did.

But my jaw was locked, my vision was sharp, and I couldn’t stop staring at the girl who hit her like she was prey. Timeout was called. Bench cleared. I sat down still fuming, chest heaving, fists clenched.

Coach walked over, didn’t say much—just tapped my shoulder and said, “I get it. But be smart. They want you to lose your cool.”

I looked her dead in the eye and said, “I didn’t lose my cool. I protected my team.”

After the game, we won by ten. Juju finished with ice wrapped around her ribs, barely talking. I sat next to her on the bus, arms crossed, still too mad to speak.

But when reporters got hold of the clip and asked about the scuffle?

I stepped up to the mic. Didn’t smile. Didn’t hesitate.

“She got hit for no reason. The ball wasn’t in play. Nobody screened. They tried to take her out, and y’all expected me to clap?”

Flashes went off. I leaned in.

“I don’t play to have a nice time. I play to win. And winning means everybody walks out on their feet. You touch Juju like that again? Don’t ask me to apologize for the reaction. Ask why y’all let it slide in the first place.”

Dom posted the clip on Instagram that night with the caption: Don’t play with us. This ain’t club ball.

Rayah reposted it with “Ride or ride harder.” Kiki just added a fire emoji.

Juju didn’t say much. But she turned to me before we got off the bus, looked me in the eye, and said, “I got you next time.”

I nodded. “Hope not.”

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @zizi-bee-yapping @kaliblazin @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey

[urinarythreatinfection]

Idea popped into my mind one night so i had to write it down because i couldn't focus on anything else..

RUFF!

Various x GN!reader (Shanks, Zoro, Luffy) Small dirty joke in Shanks's but overall fluff.

Shanks

Your boyfriend has always been expressive, saying how much he loves you and how sexy and hot you are. The rare times he isn’t is when he feels vulnerable or truly stressed, when he tries to not show any emotion to avoid showing stress. It’s rare though, most of the time he’s almost like a dog. You can almost see his tail wagging when he hugs or kisses you. Though right now, you really do swear that you can see a tail. Him and Beckman are speaking, Shanks’s dog ears pushed back slightly to show nervousness. “Shanks?” You call out to him and they perk up while his head turns to look at you.

“Baby!” His tail wags until he remembers the situation and it stops, ears pushing back again. “Uhh..”

“He got hit by a devil fruit.” Beckman says and you almost sigh in relief, so you weren’t going insane. “I had told him to be more careful but he was adamant that it was fine because even if he got hit it ‘wouldn’t do anything harmful’”

“This isn’t harmful! I’m perfectly fine~” Your captain dismisses it and you walk over to him, placing your hand out to see how far this transformation is.

“Paw.” Shanks looks at you and immediately puts his hand on yours.

“Ah-” He stutters and takes his hand off, looking away.

“Spin.” Beckman goes next and Shanks twirls, getting embarrassed afterwards.

“Stop, I get it, I get it. I shouldn’t have been hit.” He puts his hand on his face, tail drooping as he licks his lips like an anxious dog.

“Cute, I actually think I like this quite a lot.”

“You do?” His tail lifts up and you nod, then hold your arms out so he can come to you; which he does gladly. His arm wraps around you while his tail wags, then it slows down like he thought of something sad. You’re confused for a moment then get an idea of what it is, leaning down to kiss his stump then his cheek.

“Handsome boy, your hugs are always my favorite in the whole world~” You hug him tighter and he brightens, kissing all over your face while his tail wags like crazy… until he knocks you over. Doesn’t stop his kisses though.

“Honey~” He sniffs you then buries himself in your neck. It looks like his excitable traits have been heightened by this transformation.

…

“..Are you hard?” Maybe too much.

Zoro

You stare down at Zoro, your boyfriend, sitting in front of you with Luffy to the side. He has dog ears and a tail, looking away in shame. “I can’t believe you tried to slice it.”

“It-” He’s about to yell but you glare at him and he goes back to avoiding eye contact. “It looked like I could’ve.” Zoro got a beam shot at him by a devil fruit user and instead of dodging like a regular person he had tried to slice it, which did nothing as it wasn’t physical. Maybe if he put real effort into it he could’ve parried it but, being cocky, he just assumed it would be easy to slice and that was that.

“You didn’t even know what the fruit could’ve done, we’re lucky it’s basically harmless.” You watch him and his ears slowly push back more, guilty.

“Hmm, I like it! You’re like an actual guard dog now!” The captain says and Zoro frowns. Usopp, tinkering with something in the background, cracks up with you and subsequently gets Zoro to growl at him.

“Hey they laughed too!” The sniper complains after flinching, quickly going back to what he was doing when Zoro growls at while showing his now sharp canines. Laughing isn’t worth his life.

“Be nice.” You reach over and pet his head, scratching his scalp. Zoro’s eye closes as one of his legs starts to bounce. “Aww, feel good?” You scratch behind one of the dog ears and it bounces faster. Sanji walks past while heading to the kitchen and your boyfriend suddenly jumps up and grabs your wrist, pulling you to his side and growling at the cook like an actual guard dog.

“Shit!" He flinches, getting annoyed since he wasn't even gonna do anything. "Growling at me like you're threatning. Maybe this fits you though, you always did stink like a dog.” He provokes Zoro and the swordsman attacks him.

“Stop!” You yell and he freezes, barely dodging a kick.

“Don’t do that in the middle of a fight!” He barks at you.

“Woahh!” Luffy’s immediately interested, his eyes twinkling as he goes next. “Zoro, sit!” The swordsman sits while Sanji slyly smiles.

“Maybe we should give you a dog name, like Mossy.” Zoro clenches his jaw but stays seated. “Come here, Mossy, c’mon, paw!” Sanji holds out his hand and Zoro stands up while putting his swords away. “Huh, it worke-” He headbutts the cook. Doggy only takes orders from you and his captain.

Luffy

It’s a nice day, you were walking around with your friend and boyfriend on an island when you got tired; so now you’re relaxing in the sun for a nap. You’re falling asleep when you suddenly feel hands on your shoulders, opening your eyes to see Luffy barrelling towards you, slamming onto you before you can react which makes you knock down onto your back. “(Y/n)!!!” He yells happily and suddenly starts to lick your face. You push him back but before you can say anything you see dog ears on his head, a tail wagging behind him.

“Luffy? What happened?” You’re confused, are you still half asleep?

“I wanted to see you!”

“Not that, hun.” You point at his ears and he tilts his head before realizing.

“Oh! Got hit by something. Not a big deal though it doesn’t hurt.” You can tell it doesn’t hurt considering his behavior. You hear Nami next.

“Luffy, I told you… not to run off!” The navigator says angrily, panting from trying to keep up with the captain. He looks back at Nami, still attached to you, then starts to pant and noms your cheek.

“Yer choo shlow.” His voice is muffled with your cheek in his mouth, doesn’t hurt but it’s uncomfortable and he only gets off when you pry him off. He lands onto the ground while you wipe saliva off your face. “I missed you!” He jumps up, tail wagging.

“We just saw each other not too long ago Lu, I just wanted to nap.” You get most of the saliva off your face though you’ll have to wash it later.

“I still missed you, though…” He thinks for a moment. “More than usual too, weird.” Not one to care about specifics, he gets over it fast. “Well whatever, did you miss me too?”

“...Yes I missed you too.” Luffy’s too cute to refuse, especially when he gets so happy.

“Yahoo!” He starts to get zoomies, running around excitedly while his tail wags quickly. You look at Nami who sighs.

“It was other pirates, he got hit because he started complaining about being hungry.” She explains with a sigh, putting a hand on her face from stress.

“Well he looks okay, we should get him to Chopper just in case.” You look at your boyfriend who’s still running around. “Luffy, come here!” He just stands still for a moment, looking at you, before continuing to zoom. “Luffy…” He stands there but dodges and runs away when you try to grab him, doing the same as you continue to try.

“You gotta catch me!” He’s making a game out of this, happy playing with you. In the end he ended up listening less as an overly excited dog.

[lambsouvlaki]

Rule of Threes

Jason and Bruce, after the Batarang incident. 1k words. TW: suicidal thoughts, guns, descriptions of wounds

Jason, his neck stitched up and bandaged, sat at the foot of his own grave. 

Gotham was merely cloudy today. The grass around him had grown thick, and was only a touch soggy from the night’s dew. The sun was rising, somewhere, but it wouldn’t pierce the band of smog that lined the horizon for another hour. The light had a dull brown tint to it. 

He sat with his legs crossed. The stone angel wept over the tombstone and the empty grave. How dramatic. It hadn’t been maintained over the last few months and mold crept up the sides of the stone.

Jason imagined a little bird in red and green sitting next to him. Blood splattered, dusty with the debris of a recent explosion.

Once was a fluke. Twice was a coincidence. It would take three to be a pattern.

He traced the bandage on his throat. 

Robin looked at him with a frown. He couldn’t speak. Of course he couldn’t, fatal smoke inhalation did that to a person. 

Jason swallowed through the pain in his own throat. He could still speak but he was trying not to to avoid agitating the wounds. 

He wasn’t even mad. That was the deal. He issued the ultimatum.

Him or the Joker. He didn’t… he didn’t really expect Bruce to go for it. He had no plans for a world with a dead Joker in it. He just wanted to see. And now he did. 

Jason snapped off a couple of grass stems. The green smeared on his glove. 

Joker was back in Arkham. Probably giggling up a storm by now, maybe he even treated himself to a whimsical murder or two. Batman was back on patrol. There was barely a hiccup in operations. At least this time there was no ambiguity. Bruce had chosen a thousand times before but now he had lost the shroud of plausible deniability. Jason ripped it away and made him dip his hands in the blood he was responsible for spilling.

Jason’s blood. Finally put to good use. It justified his existence for that round at least.

He ripped up a chunk of grass, roots and all. 

Why was he still alive? There was nothing left. 

The kid leaned against him. He could just about feel the warmth of a body freshly robbed of life. The kid let out an exasperated breath and nodded at Sheila’s grave, next door to his own. 

Jason hummed. “Sorry, kid, it's a nice idea but I’m fresh out of parents to die for.”

Robin whacked his arm. 

He smiled. His neck stung. 

Why the hell was he alive. 

“The problem with my surviving, you see, is that it lets Bruce off easy,” he said, letting the pain radiate up through his neck to his jaw and sinuses. “He gets to choose murder, but if the victim survives it doesn’t count. …Then again the dead are easy to ignore. Recontextualise into something more convenient.”

He left the grass in peace, and reached for his gun. He examined it in the grimy light. “Maybe it doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

Don’t, the kid’s single remaining eye seemed to say. 

“Why not? Everyone else got a turn.”

The kid just looked tired. The dirty tear tracks down his face were long dried. His right eye was swollen shut, the left was bloodshot. 

Jason’s finger tapped the trigger guard. He didn’t want to do it in front of the kid. 

Stupid. The kid had seen worse. Been through worse. What other escape was there from this game for three? He tapped the mouth of the barrel under his chin. 

A lot of sayings about threes, now that he thought about it. 

The rule of threes. 

Third time’s the charm. 

Three strikes and you’re out.

“Don’t.”

Three’s a crowd, he thought, lips flattening. The kid’s shoulders sagged.

“I’m just following your cue here, Bruce,” Jason said. His voice was raspy now he was pitching it for an audience beyond the imaginary. He turned his head, holding the gun loosely. 

Bruce stood behind him, dressed like a normal man, and standing several yards away. All the way up there with the living, even if he did look like something Death forgot to collect while doing the rounds. It was nice they had so much in common. 

He stepped closer. 

“Nu-uh.” Jason got up.  

The kid planted himself between them, staring up at Bruce defiantly. Aw. 

Bruce stopped. 

The kid was right in front of him, arms crossed. Jason looked at the horrible burned remains of his back. 

Three’s a crowd, indeed. 

“Jason–”

“We’ve been through this already. No take backs.”

Maybe this time it would stick.

Maybe it wouldn’t. 

Once a fluke, twice coincidence, thrice… 

Bruce looked between him and the gun. His expression was so damn aggravated it should have been funny. But Jason was tired. His neck hurt. He should still be dead, dammit. 

“Jason, listen to me,” Bruce started. 

“No.”

“Do you want me to beg?” he demanded. “It didn’t stop you last time.”

“Didn’t stop you either.”

His jaw ticked. All that tension, his dentist must weep over it. 

Bruce’s arm dropped. “What do you want?”

“This is old ground, Bruce, I don’t know why you’re expecting new information. You only get to keep the one of us.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Jason snorted and gave his neck a clap. His vision blacked out with pain for a second. When it came back Bruce was staring at him with his face frozen. Maybe it was horror. Maybe it was heartbreak. But probably not. 

The kid looked back at him, so tired.

He supposed this looked different from Bruce’s perspective: the grave was behind Jason, Robin beyond his grasp. A monster in the way. 

He was kidding himself. The grave was empty. 

But the kid wasn’t in front of him either. 

There were only two people in this graveyard. 

“He’s not worth it,” Bruce said quietly. 

“No.” Jason lowered the gun. “You’re not worth it.”

He threw it at Bruce’s feet. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away.

[raitonsfw]

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai has gifted you many things in the years that you’ve known him. Jewelry, books, clothes, lingerie… Anything that he thought suited you. When you wear one of his gifts to the agency without thinking, it was just supposed to be another day at work. But little did you know that the reason why Dazai bought you the black dress was that it was for his eyes and his eyes only. And not to mention the matching set that you wore underneath it practically sparkled in the luminosity of the office.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, exhibitionism, embarrassment, lingerie, fingering, dirty talk, teasing, slight degradation, dazai's a little mean, petnames (sweetheart, baby, darling, dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: dazai basically fingers the reader on the train ride home cuz he just couldn't wait. my friend gave me this idea and it was so fun to write. nice to write fem!readers again after writing character ships for so long. defs needed a breather. wc: 2.2k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The train wasn’t too busy, though to you it seemed like everyone and their mother took this exact train in order to spite you. You don’t know why Dazai had insisted on taking the train from the agency today, the hurriedness of it confusing you even more. Normally the both of you would walk the streets of downtown Yokohama in order to get home, stopping to sightsee and shop a bit along the way. Sometimes he’d buy you dinner on the edge of the river, other days he’d bring you to your favorite bookstore.

But today he was absolutely restless to get home, with quicker footing than usual and a hush to his voice. You were filled with concern because of this. He was never quiet, the boy was like a walking radio to you as he’d chatter (or sing) away the afternoon about anything and everything. When you both reached the station and past the people that crowded it, his lips were bitten red and he kept a hand pressed against your lower back, ushering you into the train carefully.

Fortunately for you, you both had ended up on the last train where barely anyone sat. Most of the people you had pushed through earlier sat up near the front of the train car and onwards, filling the spaces with awkward silence. Dazai snagged a seat to your left, next to the divider of the sliding doors. He leaned into it as the train made its way down the tracks, crossing his leg over his other with his hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Dazai-san, are you okay?” You asked, your voice a bit dry as you hadn’t spoken much since you left the agency. Putting a hand on his thigh to soothe his bouncing leg, he turned to you with a slight flinch but quickly registered your hand’s warmth and gave you a small grin.

“Never been better,” Dazai said, the fakeness of the smile evident. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve seemed quieter than usual.”

“I just can’t wait to get home.” He sighed out gently, whimsicality etching his tone.

One of his hands had come to rest on yours and he rubbed it lovingly. He seemed calmer than before, but something was still bothering him. You decided to backtrack the day in your head; you two didn’t do much today at the agency.

You had looked over some of the papers Kunikida had assigned to you, ran a small errand with Atsushi, and watched Dazai successfully manage to steal a sweet from Ranpo without him knowing. Nothing else out of the ordinary stuck out to you and you frowned a little, still unsure as to why Dazai was being so weird.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you.” You frowned at him and it looked like he almost caved, his mouth falling open to speak. But you second guessed yourself as he shut it quickly, his eyes falling past your lips.

Something was bothering him, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that the dress you put on exposed your lingerie in the most discreet of places. The agency’s lights did you no justice, making the crimson colored set pop out underneath the dusky sheerness of your dress. Perhaps if he had been walking behind you in the evening glow of the sun, he would’ve had to fuck you behind a bush on the way home.

No one else noticed it, too preoccupied in their work to even give you a glance other than to say hi and if they did...well Dazai would’ve known. He watched you like a hawk all day, making sure no one mentioned it to you, partially in fear of embarrassment but mostly because he didn’t want you to change.

But yeah, something was bothering him and that was his dick.

The entire day he was hard, was aching for you to look at him and realize what you did to him. He curled up in the corner of the couch with his knees almost pressed to his chest, hiding the bulge as much as he could for most of the day. But you were too busy to pay attention to him being the hell of a worker you are; of course you couldn’t possibly have noticed his predicament– the predicament you caused.

Not even when he pulled his overcoat over his lap when you talked to him about past missions, you didn’t bat an eye. Not when his sentences faltered a few times during a meeting with Fukuzawa, did you even think to ponder why. And definitely not when he dashed off to the restroom more than a few times (only to come back with a bit of an attitude), did you realize that you were the cause of his pressing situation.

He couldn’t quite catch a break today, could he? You walked into the office, knowing damn well he gifted you that dress with a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. He even wrapped the bow on the gift box neatly, paired it with little explicit intent that it was for him. And not to mention that matching set you were wearing, also courtesy of his lust for you. The red lace peeked out just enough from the cut of the dress and he had to hold back the gasp that left his mouth when he recognized what lingerie set it was. You were decked out in his finest picks, innocently running around the office with papers falling from your arms whilst sucking up to Kunikida’s hellish requests.

“Y/N-san, you wore the dress I bought for you.” He pointed out, a bit uncertain of how to explain to you that it was sheer. “It’s beautiful on you.”

Your face lit up at the compliment. “I am! To be honest, I had nothing else to wear and I decided this would be a nice change. Instead of my regular pantsuits.”

“Would I be an asshole if I tell you it’s see through?” Dazai decided to come straight out, chuckling lightly. He watched your face fall and he immediately regretted telling you. Maybe he should’ve waited until you guys got home.

“No way, it’s not!”

“And that red number you’ve been wearing is...” He continued in a seductive whisper, leaning closer into you. “Why do you think I bought it, sweetheart?”

“I wore it in front of the entire agency, Dazai-san!” You hissed out, the embarrassment reddening against your neck and you attempted to hide it beneath the collar of the dress. No wonder he gawked at you the entire day, no wonder he stumbled through his sentences, no wonder he rushed you to the train station, no wonder he-

“Oh, please. Someone would’ve told you if it was extremely noticeable.” He could turn this around. He was an expert at that, his fingers tracing up your delicate sleeve. Dazai brought your hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss on the back of it, his eyes louring as he looked at you from his peripherals. “On the other hand…I wish I told you sooner.”

“I’ve been holding back all day as you dumbly walked around the office like you damn near owned it." His right hand slipped underneath your dress, latching onto your thigh. “Thought of so many positions I could fuck you in…if only the supply closet was enough for you but you hate dark places. Maybe the president would’ve let us leave early, then I could’ve bent you over the-”

“Not so loud.” You shushed him, trying hard not to relinquish yourself to the warmth against your thigh. It was too late though, your arousal had you wrapped around his pretty little finger, yearning for more.

Dazai dropped your hand on his lap, pulling it over the bulge of his trousers. You palmed lightly at it without much thought, feeling the curve of his erection within its confines. “Look what you did to me, baby…Had me almost humping my hand with how good you looked. Not like you cared though since you were so busy with Atsushi-kun today.”

He huffed out a small whine as you pulled your hand away quickly, peeking around the corner to see if anyone saw his action. Everyone was still peering towards the front of the train car, idly scrolling through their phones or listening to music that was much too loud in the ear. The divider covered almost all of Dazai’s lap, a basic blind spot, but you were still nervous.

The feeling of his fingers grasping against your inner thigh shot you from your thoughts as they mingled upwards to the heat of your cunt. You were already dizzy with excitement but this couldn’t happen. Not in such a public place, the strangers amongst you would definitely hear your soft whimpers. Though the thought of that made you see stars, the adrenaline rushed in your blood and directly down to the pit of your abdomen. The heat pooled there, lingered as his lithe fingers pulled at the thin lace covering your clit.

“There’s people at the front of the train, we can’t just-” You whispered, trying to move away from his hand but he had already felt the wetness that collected against the naughty material. His fingers pushed through you delicately and you shuddered at the feeling, a quiet gasp leaving your mouth.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, darling.” He pleaded quietly in your ear, nipping at the soft shell of it. He left a kiss behind your ear and gave you a small hush as a whine got stuck in the back of your throat. “If it makes you feel better, I can lay my coat over you.”

You nodded quickly and mere seconds later, his discarded coat was thrown over top of you to shield the neighboring passengers. His hand found its way back between your legs, in the exact position he had it before and you brought the sleeve of his coat up to your mouth to muffle your moans.

“D-Dazai-san…” You breathed out as his ring finger circled your clit whilst his pointer and middle plunged into you with no remorse. He kept a shallow pace, thrusting in and out slowly to avoid extra noise (though he wouldn't have minded hearing the way your slick sounded as you became wetter with each press of his fingers). His other hand held his phone out in front of you on your lap, scrolling mindlessly through social notifications– to distract the people around you. In case you got caught. Sneaky bastard.

“Look at what Kunikida-kun posted today on our website! He’s so savvy, isn’t he?” He beamed at you and you couldn’t even respond back, pleasure swirling around in your head as Dazai continued fucking his fingers into you. Changing his pace to unabating pressure that nestled against your clit, you squirmed in your seat. Your legs threatened to close against his arm but you forced them to stay open, near silent whimpers pouring from your mouth.

Dazai wanted to hear them, those pretty moans that he forced from you, but he picked pretty bad timing to teeter you off the edge of pure ecstasy. He loved the way you clenched tightly around his fingers as he found your sweet spot– your face contorted with a slight furrow to your eyebrows and you panted into his coat sleeve like it was your source of oxygen.

“Looks like there’s rain tonight, guess we can’t go on that walk anymore.” He pouted innocently and you felt your nerves screaming at you– faster, closer, so close you squeezed your eyes shut harshly at the growing pleasure. A moment later, you were falling apart against his fingers, desperate to keep quiet as your whole body shuddered in his palm. Your whole body tensed up as you let out a rather loud moan, much louder than you thought, though it was talked over by Dazai’s glorious distraction. He didn’t stop moving as you fluttered around his fingers and you gripped onto his bandaged wrist with a weak hand.

He slipped them out of you as you calmed down, a quiet sigh resonating through the fabric of the coat. You felt him wipe them off against the inner material of it and he stood up, stretching his arms up. Throwing on his coat smugly, he looked at you and offered his hand out. “Our stop’s coming up, dear.”

You knew you’d look like a deer in headlights if you stood up, still flushed from moments before. You took his hand though, wobbling as you gained your footing while the train decreased in speed. As you smoothed your dress down you remembered the reasoning why this all happened and you cleared your throat, a sheepish smile coming to light in the corners of your mouth.

“Let’s get you home quickly before the rain comes.” Dazai said as the train halted to a stop, the doors sliding open. He moved you in front of him, his palm flush to the small of your back again. As you stepped off the train, he leaned down to the shell of your ear to murmur something.

“Keep the dress on for me when I fuck you properly.” Just a reminder what’s his and his only.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[starl0rds]

Theory of Desire, pt. 3

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader ୨୧ · ♡ · ୨୧

Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 here!

“Stay with me.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

As your yearning for him deepens, you discover sides of Young-il that shake you to your core.

Warnings: minors dni! smut, mentions of sex, masturbation, wet dream, fingering, oral sex, blood, dirty talk, dom!in-ho, praise kink, basically plot with porn/porn with plot

Author's Note: thank you so much for all the love and feedback on the fic. we love some mutual pining and heightening tension! chapters will be updated every few days on ao3 <3

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Chapter 3: all you have is your fire (and the place you need to reach)

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

- “Arsonist’s Lullaby,” by Hozier

For the first time in a long time, In-ho dreamed that night.

He was in that office again. Sitting behind that desk where the case files piled up like dirty laundry, in the rolling chair that creaked every time he turned. Coffee, black, sat in a mug positioned to the right of him, slowly growing cold. In front of him was an open file and a notepad. In his hand, a pen.

And yet, instead of reading from his file or jotting down notes, his attention was fixed on something else—the detective sitting at the desk across from him. Taking a statement from a young woman in a chair.

Suspects, witnesses, victims—they came and went at the police precinct all the time, a dime a dozen. This was standard procedure, nothing more. So what was so different about this? 

He watched the way the woman’s gaze remained downwards, her hands folded in her lap. She sat so still he could have almost believed she was a statue.

Detective Kang was saying something. In-ho noticed him shift closer towards the woman. His hand reached out to comfort her. Came down to rest on her thigh.

He watched the woman recoil. The detective only smiled. A lion baring its teeth at a deer.

The woman excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Detective Kang at his desk alone. Before In-ho could think, he was rising from his desk and striding over.

“I see you’ve been getting awfully friendly with the vic, Detective.”

The senior detective reclined in his chair and glanced sideways at him. “Alleged vic. And she’s quite pretty, isn’t she? Nice face. Although a little plain… otherwise.” He chuckled, and In-ho felt the heat rising in his chest.

“I think the captain would be very interested to hear if a certain Detective was crossing professional boundaries with a civilian.”

His eyes narrowed, like a snake’s. “You’ve always been a stickler for rules, In-ho. Don’t fret too much. It is my responsibility, after all, to take her statement.”

“And what exactly is it that you’re doing, Detective?”

“Just having my fun. The case is going nowhere as it is. Poor girl doesn’t even think she has any witnesses, or proof of what happened. This one is probably going in the archives.”

“Might I remind you that a civilian has no place in fulfilling your own… desires.”

“And what are you going to do, In-ho? File a report against me to the captain?” 

“Just keep it civil.”

The woman returned from the washroom. From the viewpoint of his desk, In-ho watched as Detective Kang continued to listen to the woman speak, sitting upright in his chair and taking notes. He made no move on her thereafter.

The woman finished with her statement. Detective Kang said something about the unlikeliness of the perp being called to the precinct, the proceedings of the case, and she only nodded. There was no sadness, no disappointment in her expression. As if she had expected nothing. 

Before the young woman left, she glanced around at the bullpen of the precinct, as if she had forgotten something but didn’t know what. In-ho thought it was almost like a plea. For someone, anyone, to look up and see her.

The woman caught In-ho’s gaze, just for a moment. Her eyes were hollow.

The song trumpeting through the loudspeaker roused you from your sleep.

“Players,” the disembodied voice declared again. “The next game will begin shortly. Please prepare yourself to exit in a single file line.”

Below you, the front door to the chamber opened. Several pink guards strode out into the room. No matter how many times you had seen them, the sight of them, carrying their large automatic rifles, made your palms sweat.

You felt someone come down the steps to stand at your bedside. It was Young-il, already up and already as alert as ever. His eyes were trained on the guards. Despite his attentiveness, you noticed the dark shadows underneath his eyes.

You studied his face. A thousand questions played on your tongue, and yet all you came back to was the heat of the moment, the sensation of his lips on yours. The feel of him pulling away. Your heart constricted.

“Young-il…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He met your gaze, and you saw that old hunger spark in his eyes. It was gone just as quickly. Despite your exasperation, the longing unmet from the night before, something in your armor weakened.

“You look tired,” you ventured.

“It’s the mattresses. Too thin, too small.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you sleep?”

Your mouth curved upwards. “Terribly.”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

(chapter cont. here on ao3!)

taglist: @k1ra-park3r

[vamphrrr]

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 25

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: last night I finished my paper... mostly. Need to format and cite.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at your hand, then Mr. Laufeyson’s. In contrast, his seems so big. Emblematic of the hold he has on your life. The power you can’t resist. Even if you want to. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know if you’d ever known. You only ever did what you thought was right.

He lets you slip your hand free and you turn it over, looking down at your palm. You trace a line as you feel him watching you. He wants you to speak but what can you say? You’re confused and scared and so, so tired.

“Pet, was I not clear?” He wonders, the gentle lilt frightens you more than his deep commanding timbre.

You think he was. You think you know what he wants. Just like your father accused you. Well, what else are you worth? Not just to him but anyone.

“Can…” your mouth is dry, your eyes are itchy, your head is pulsing, and your body feels hollow. “Can I think about it?”

“Think?” He echoes, “what– how long?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Laufeyson,” you answer thinly, sinking back into the pillows, “I’m dizzy. I don’t feel very well.”

“Dizzy?” He repeats you again. He hums and clasps his hand around his knee, “when’s the last you’ve eaten?”

You shyly glance up. You slant your lips and shrug. You’re uncertain. Does he really care? It hardly matters. You can’t recall when your dad ever bothered about you being fed or happy. Even if it’s pretend, it’s better than before.

“Yesterday, I think,” you twine your fingers together, “last night…”

“Yes, last night was a bit much, wasn’t it?” He tuts, “what about breakfast?”

“I had some tea,” you offer. “I’m not very hungry, just sleepy.”

“You need to eat then, you can’t think on an empty stomach surely,” he insists as he stands, “I’ll fetch a plate.”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself to the edge of the bed but he’s quick to stop you, catching your shoulder as he nudges you into the pillows.

“No, no, let me show you,” he squeezes then reluctantly rescinds his touch, “I said I would give you anything, yes? Whatever you wish or need. Let me show you that I can and you may better make your decision.”

“It’s really not–” you try to argue but don’t have the energy. Really, you’re too perplexed to come up with any protest. He’s being strangely… nice.

“I mean it, stay,” he orders as he shows his palms, “I won’t be long.”

You just nod. He spins on his heels and marches out. You scrunch up your lips and glance towards the window. It’s later than you thought. The window is dark and the moon shines down in a sliver.

What would it be like to have someone take care of you? Is that what Mr. Laufeyson means? You’re not that stupid. Inexperienced, yes, but he has been blunt. You know what he wants from you but you’re not sure you can offer it. 

Clothes? Jewellry? Shiny things? All those things mean nothing. He can’t give you what you truly want but no one can. And he’s right about everything else. You have no home and whatever he did can’t have made your dad any less angry than he already was.

You close your eyes and exhale. No isn’t an option. It might knot in your chest and tickle your tongue but you’re not sure you can’t utter it. What is the alternative? You’re at the tipping point. Without a job, you can’t afford that hotel bed. Even with one, you’re not sure you can swing it. And there’s all the other expenses; all the things you need and don’t have.

Your head is ready to split in two. You could never be ready for this. You never saw it coming to this. You in Mr. Laufeyson’s bed, weighing your entire life in your hands.

Your eyes roll open as you hear him. The scent of the food precedes him and your stomach rumbles loudly. His brows rise in response as he enters. He has a plate in one hand and a wooden board under the other. He nears and sets the dish on the night table, unfolding the legs of the lap table.

He places it over your legs and moves the plate on top of it. He’s careful not to lose the cutlery in the process. It’s some of the food Frigga left, but not a dish you helped with. Salmon, rice, and a colourful medley of vegetables.

“Something to drink?” He offers.

“Um…” you look at the plate then furrow your brow at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. What would you like?”

You blink. This is strange. It should be you asking him. It should be you running around. It’s backwards. All of it.

“Water is fine.”

“Hm, yes, water, I shall return,” he declares and once more pivots on his heel.

You focus on the food as he goes. You poke the long grains of rice, then a baby carrot. You push it all around before you dare to take a bite. It’s good, very good. Better than boxed macaroni and canned soups.

Mr. Laufeyson appears again. He has a tall glass, weeping with condensation as a lemon floats on top. He sets it on the night table, sure to slip a marble coaster down first. You taste the food intensely, pushing your tongue around as he backs up. He hovers just before the foot of the bed.

You continue to eat. Tediously so. Little bites as you delay the inevitable. He won’t allow you much longer than it takes to clear the plate to give your answer and you’re filling up fast. You still the fork and swallow. You rest the silver on the ceramic rim and take a sip of water. The cold flow gives a small kick.

“What did you do to him?” You ask, voice trembling even as you fight to control it.

He tilts his head and a line ripples above his brows. He cheek dimples as he grips one hip, “whatever do you think I did to the sickly old brute?”

You frown and he puts his head straight. He drops his hand and flutters his fingers. He huffs and paces around the end of the bed, then back again.

“I only gave him a fright,” he grumbles, almost bashfully, “I am somewhat above assaulting an elderly man.”

You stare, not saying a word.

“What? I am,” he snaps, “I only told him to keep his hands to himself. In more words than that.”

You don’t know if you believe him. You want to only because you wouldn’t want to be the reason your dad gets hurt. Even if he’s the reason you are.

“Promise?” You ask.

He clasps his hands together behind his back, “sure. Yes, I swear that I didn’t touch him, right? Just a bit of ominous implication.”

You run your finger along the edge of the plate.

“Tell me you’re not lying, please?”

He’s quiet. He huffs again and taps his toe.

“Why do you care so much? He doesn’t care for you.”

“Just…” you are wilting, you feel your strength dwindling. “Tell me the truth and I’ll say yes.”

He shifts to sit on the bed, just by your legs. He looks at you in the face. You meet his gaze and he doesn’t flinch, “I did not assault him, though it crossed my mind. He had that tube under his nose and wouldn’t stop coughing. It hardly seemed a fair contest. I merely warned him that the next time, I wouldn’t restrain myself.”

“Next time?” You murmur.

“Which there won’t be,” he assures, “because I told the truth, so that is…”

He waits and points at you. You turn your head away. You believe him.

“Yes,” you mutter. “I accept, Mr. Laufeyson…” You bat away another singe of tears, the voice in your head whispering what you won’t say aloud, ‘you win’.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson clears away the dishes and folds up the small table. He leaves you for a time, stirring on the lower level as you listen cautiously. You feel a little better but your eyes are still puffy from crying and your head still has a dull tick. 

You slowly stand, careful not to cause your head to ring, and move around the bed. You slip into the hallway and into the study. Inside, you near the desk and lift the bag onto the chair. You search within until you find your phone, the mostly neglected flip.

You open it and stare at the keypad. You want to call your dad and make sure he’s okay but you know you shouldn’t. You can’t. He wouldn’t answer either way. You know that. The more you think of what he did, the worse it is. Why hadn’t you realised before? There was no way to ever go back home.

“Pet?” Mr. Laufeyson startles you and you shove away the phone. You face him and lean on the corner of the desk. “I made some tea… it’s much too late for work.”

“I know, I…” you still aren’t used to this. It’s so unusual. Mr. Laufeyson’s isn’t a place of leisure or carelessness, it’s for work. “...was checking the time.”

“Late, yes,” he affirms, “chamomile, my mother left some behind.” He raises the steaming mug, “you should lay down.”

“Mmm, yeah, I…” you look away. It’s not so different as it was, is it? You’re still supposed to obey him. He might be gentler but he isn’t asking.

“Would you like a book to read? You may peruse to your pleasure,” he offers and crosses to you, close as he puts the cup on the desk, “I might have a few you may enjoy. Are you fan of Shelley?”

He takes your wrist before you can react. He leads you to the shelf near the middle of the wall as you blink and peek up at him. This is strange. You’ve never seen him like this. Almost excited, as much as he has ever been.

“Poe, of course, I’ve some Lovecraft but I find him repetitive,” he goes on, “perhaps this isn’t an evening for horror.” He’s thinking aloud, “I might have an Austen or two that you may handle. The first editions, I’m afraid, cannot be touched.” He hums as he lets you go and hovers his fingers over the row, “Mansfield Park… hm?” 

He looks at you and you shake your head. You don’t know. You read the same books you read as a kid. The Secret Garden, The Little Princess, and that illustrated version of The Hobbit, the one your dad used to…

“Maybe tomorrow,” you offer, “my head hurts.”

“Fair,” he agrees, “as I said, you should lay down.”

“I know,” you murmur and back away, “I’m just… restless.”

“So drink your tea.”

“Thanks,” you return to the desk and lift the mug, blowing over it as the steam continues to furl above it, “I will.”

“In bed,” he insists.

“I wouldn’t want to spill it–”

“Well certainly you can’t have it near the books,” he reproaches, “so come.”

That’s a command. His tone hardens and you recognise him again. Oh yes, things aren’t so different after all. He’s still in charge.

You nod and do as he says. You carry the tea into the hallway but hesitate at the threshold. Can’t you just go downstairs? No, you’re tired. You continue to the bedroom and place the mug on the same coaster where he’d put the water earlier.

You fold your hands nervously and back away. You approach the window and look out onto the estate. You remember the night you rushed over here, when he’d triggered that alarm. The way he’d been so undone, how he’d grabbed you and babbled those senseless words.

He moves behind you, shifting open drawers, and shuffling around. He doesn’t say a word as your vision blurs the shadows to a sea of uncertainty. The world is distant as you struggle to believe in it. It still feels like a horrible nightmare.

“Pet,” he slithers as he comes up behind you. You flinch as he rests his hands on your shoulders, standing almost flush to you, “your tea grows cold.”

You nod and sidle away from him. He relents, a hand dragging down your arm as he sighs. He watches as you go to claim the porcelain cup. You sit on the edge of the bed and sip. It’s pleasant, not stale like the old tea bags in your own cupboard. Well, that’s not yours anymore.

You wiggle your nose, ready to cry again. It’s like your morning yourself. The old you is dead yet very much sitting there, just as powerless as ever.

“Thank you,” you say as you cradle the cup against your hand, absorbing the heat until it hurts.

“I’ve found some clothing you can sleep in,” he nears and pulls the folded fabric across the bed. A plain button-up and a pair of cotton shorts. “I’m afraid I’m not furnished for you just yet. Tomorrow we will rectify that.”

You thank him again and drown your nerves in the yellow tea. As much as your eyelids tug and your shoulders slump, as heavy as you feel, you’re not sure you will sleep through the churning in your chest. You twitch as he brushes a finger against your cheek and your sight narrows on him.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He caresses down to your chin and tilts it up. He considers you. You feel him appraising you, his eyes drifting away from your face. For a moment, his grip on you firms and his hand slides back so the crook of thumb and index frame your throat. You gulp as he bends over you. He presses a kiss on your forehead, lingering as he inhales your scent.

“Patience,” he mutters as he parts, though you don’t know if he girds you or himself.

He draws away and fixes his posting, rolling his shoulders as he turns sharply. He goes back to the dresser and focuses on the contents of the top drawer. He clucks as he snatches out garments.

“I suppose I should dress for bed too,” he drones flatly, “no doubt…” He snaps the drawer shut, “a long night.”

[moyazaika]

Punishment of Pity.

My aunt is overly superstitious. A mean glare from a woman will be the explanation and cause for all bad things after. If she has any misfortune, that woman is the cause, she clearly cursed her. Speaking of things draws them to you, you may never speak of bad things around her.

I made that mistake. I joked that my fortune had become unlucky recently and that an unpleasant customer must have caused it.

Now I must stand here and pray. Must stand in front of this piece of stone carved by a simple man and pray for the “curse” to be lifted from me. I don’t actually pray; I just stand there silently. I can’t leave any sooner that it would take for me to actually pray, Auntie can tell when the time is too short, and will send me back.

Flowers, coins, alcohol, and photos lay at the statue’s feet, but it never looks at it, never looks at anything. Its eyes are closed as it holds its hands together firmly. Deep in thought. Maybe praying for blessings itself.

I don’t know what god this is supposed to be. The towns temple is old and has been the center of many cults over the decades that the real and fake gods get mixed, and neither one’s names are remembered. Statues and paintings are what remains in the temple, and rhymes and songs are what remain of them in the town.

But Auntie likes this one. So, I need to pray to this one.

Though I can’t say I hate the temple. It’s hard to hate a place like this. Trees are scattered all around moving gently with the wind, whispers of leaves and petals. Gently breezes touch your skin, not cold like stone, but like a gentle breath from a god. It’s hard to hate this place. You walk in with annoyance and hatred that you are forced to stand and pray so that you are allowed back into social events, curses are like a sickness. But after a minute or two of standing in front of the statues, your arm wishing to swing and slap the expression off the stone face, you feel a gentle breeze, and you remember this place hasn’t wronged you. It has done nothing to deserve your anger, it exists at the mercy of us. We can break down its wall and demolish the statues if we wished, we cannot share the memories and stories of this place, letting it be forgotten like a name. But we don’t, and in thanks it remains a place of peace.

Time should be up now, Auntie should be satisfied.

I turned around and walked down the steps, calm, but still wise enough to know that feeling won’t last longer, and will vanish once something else bothers me today.

Maybe I should stay a little longer. It feels nice to not be angry at the world.

I breath in deeply and immaturely breath out fast. I follow the small stone paths around the temple, admiring the strength and beauty of the trees as they exist, reminding me that we are a fast moving species on a slow moving earth. This tree has seen many grandparents, yet shows no recognition to anyone.

I see that little statue again. I’ve seen it a few times, the few times I come along this path instead of leave once I am done “praying”.

It’s smaller than the others, and much more dirty. One of the gods that had the misfortune of being forgotten by humans. While they all might have no names, this one has no love. Nature has grown over it, as if to cover its shame that it is not good enough for humans. Mother nature protecting something, slowly gathering it in her embrace before it is shielded forever from eyes. Even now, before that time, if you didn’t know it was there, never took the time to slowly look at it, you would think it was a medium boulder. Nothing special. And even if you do know it’s there, it’s still nothing special to us.

It's sad in a way. That a piece of art made by a man that must have been proud to make something in the image of a god, is forgotten in the grass and no one even cares to clean it. To let it be seen by others.

Maybe I should clean it. Rip of the vines and plants, use my sleeve to get some of the mud and dirt off so that you could at least see the face.

Or should I leave it alone, forgotten like the many other statues that sleep in the trees and nature? Let it hide away from judgement.

I walk a little away from the given path and crouch down. The smell of grass and mud potent from the rain that came yesterday. I quickly and accurately remove the vines and plants from the stone. Not wanting to accidentally touch a bug that might be hiding somewhere. I cleared most of the plants away, leaving some at the base.

The statue wasn’t quite handsome….more so pretty. It was a man but his features were gently like the ones of women, and his pose was one of that as well. Not standing tall and proud and brooding like the others, but crouched down, clasping both hands over his heart.

I cover my fist with my sleeve before rubbing his face a bit, removing the dirt that covered the expertly carved features of his face.

He was smiling gently, but he did not look at peace. He looked desperate.

That’s one thing you had to give to all the statues that made it to the temple, they were made beautifully. Being able to capture such complex emotions.

I got up, I did it. And I should get back now, if I stay too long Auntie might think I’m praying for more things than just getting rid of one curse.

I left, knowing I’ll come back.

…

“You need to pray.”

“Auntie it’s not that serious.”

“NO, you need to. I’ve known girls that looked uglier than pigs that call themselves men and yet they still got married! You’re left hand is smarter than all of them, and you look like a human and not a pig, but you have scared away ALL SUITORS!  You need to pray!”

“Auntie, only a few of them left, it’s nothing that needs to be prayed about.”

“NO NO, you listen to me, I know that you are young and want to do things your way, that you want to be right about everything and that what old hags like me believe is nonsense, but I will not be allowing my niece to live a cursed life just because she is young and dumb! NOW GO!”

I sighed, before leaving.

There is no curse, I’m not bound to scaring away men for the rest of my life, she’s just thinking too much. Those girls might have been ugly and dumb, but that is what their husbands wanted, the men that came to me also wanted that, and when they didn’t find it, they left. Nothing supernatural, just men being scumbags.

Walking through the entrance is always a small walk of shame, anyone that sees you knows why you are there. You are cursed, you clearly have misfortune or do bad things if you visit as often as I do. I don’t do anything wrong, I’m just unlucky.

I didn’t want to pray to that statue again, it’s face bothered me more and more by the day as my visits get more and more frequent. I won’t pray to it today, I’ll do something else in the temple. I walk on the path again, the old tree that never recognizes you for you age much faster than it does.

And the statue.

It was dirtier than the last time I saw it, but that is to be expected.

I crouched down in front of it. This statue doesn’t make me angry to look at. This one hasn’t given me misfortune. It knows nothing of my problems, I don’t think it has heard anyone’s problems in a long time.

“Life isn’t going well recently. My aunt thinks that I’m cursed to scare away men, she’ll probably later blame that girl that passed through a while ago. Saying that she cursed me with her…..well…you can guess what older women say about girls like her.” I snicker.

“Auntie wants me to marry soon before all the “young and bright” young men are taken away. I have no problem with marrying a smart man, but she says they have to be rich too. You don’t have many young smart rich people. And then she expects them to fall in love overnight with her niece. Very unrealistic.”

“Maybe you can help. Maybe you’re a god that can grant wishes. Maybe you can grant me large amounts of money so that auntie won’t be so focused on this.” I laugh hollowly, not even taking what I’m saying serious.

This statue can’t  do anything. I’m just blabbering to pass time faster. My smile drops as I stare at the statue. This statue can’t do anything, it can’t even stop itself from being covered in mud.

I get up and walk back out of the temple.

…

It’s getting harder and harder to sooth my aunt. For weeks my days have been spent with hourly visits to the temple, and now my nights as well. And arguing with her has become pointless. I could have used all the logic in the world to explain to her why some men weren’t interested in me and would have at least made a dent in her mind before. What I can’t explain is the misfortune the men that do take interest in me face. I’ve become a disease to them.

I shook a suitor’s hand and he developed a massive rash as well as his hand puffing up to the size of his thigh. I made some bland jokes to another suitor who played along with a sophisticated laugh and he now has a terrible cough that won’t go away.

I’ve become a disease to these men and I have to pray it out.

…

My sleeping bag felt like an icy slab against my back. The fabric refused to hold any of my warmth and only embrace the cold hard floor.

It’s childish to say out loud but I don’t feel safe in the temple. It’s dark besides the streaks of light the moon glows down onto earth. The rustle of leaves is the least bothersome sound, the creaks of old wood sound like I’m not alone, the sound of bats and insects makes me feel too exposed in nature, and that natural fear of the unknown the darkness loves to torture us with so ever present.

That statue was definitely not a statue of love, that face was not formed out of desperation for a lover, that face cursed me to have its face now. I could perfectly imagine my own face at that moment, my skin and flesh draped over the face of that desperate statue who couldn’t keep its misfortune to itself.

I started my prayer, “To any and all good gods that roam this temple, take pity on my life and soul. My life is full of misfortune and my soul of unrest. I am like a disease to men that court me, you can see it in my memories what I do to them. I lay offerings for you now and promise on the blessing that I beg of you that if you take pity on me, you will never go a day without them. If there is something I must do to remove this curse off of my life please give me the knowledge.”

I waited in silence.

‘Break the statue’

My eyes snapped open, my entire body flinching up, wrapping my sleeping bag around me and looking around. My eyes started to water, there was noone there with me. My breathing was harsh, my ears clogged with the rushing of my blood.

The world around me truly felt like a nightmare now. That voice was not mine, but it came out of my head, whispered into my ear to echo in my skull.

I didn’t know what to do. If the voice was from a god that means they are real, but that would also mean the statue that has cursed me is also a real god. Does breaking a statue kill a god? Could it be that simple? Could a god be killed that easily? No, that couldn’t be, perhaps the statue is only a vessel, without a vessel a god can’t do anything? Why would a god tell me to kill another god, why would it give me the secret to getting rid of a god, any god? Why not make a deal with that god? The human in me feels the need to question the gods, to know what their plan and reasoning is, but if auntie was right about this, then I should listen to her advice.

“If you pray to a good god, and a good god speaks to you, listen.”

…

The statue was terrifying in the dark. Its face lightly wrapped in vines like strands of hair. The night getting rid of color leaving just a dark gray statue and black leaves. I slowly bent down to grab a rock from the path, eyes too scared to leave the statue praying that it wouldn’t move. Images of horror movies popped into my head, could this god use the vines to drag me into the woods? Strangle me in the trees? Force my face into a puddle to drown?

I asked the god how to solve my problem, but that doesn’t mean the good will protect me if this god attacks me. The god answered my question, didn’t offer to help me solve it. But would a good god give me the answer without warning me how to do it safely? Or would it expect me to know the danger?

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill a god.

I went back into the temple and prayed. I never slept, I prayed to all the good gods, apologized for not having prayed truly before, and begging them to protect me.

…

I felt like a solider coming back from war as I walked home. 

…

“OH DEAR YOU’VE BEEN BLESSED BY THE GODS!” My aunt screamed at me when I closed the door.

“….wha-“ she ran around the corner and dragged me to the garden. “LOOK!” And dear god was there something to look at. Our garden, the garden that was trampled to dirt by my aunt’s obsessive running and outdoor exercise routine was overflowing in the bloom of red roses. There was nothing but roses, the bricks of the house were hidden behind the wall of red, the dirt  only known by the knowledge that roses need dirt to grow.

“The gods have taken pity on us!” Auntie cried as she kissed my cheeks, “Red roses! Red roses!”

A petal from one of the roses clinging to a wall came off and floated down toward me, gently it stroked my cheek and landed at my feet.

-✨🥐anon (sorry for any typos! It’s been a while but I hope this isn’t too bad.)

ohh i think this is one of my favourite stories you've written so far!

i'm in love with the way you described the temple's setting above all. how it's hard to hate a place like this; how it exists at the mercy of humans. the details of the tress having seen so many people's lives come and go before them yet deigning to remember none...

everything down to cleaning the statue, with small details like reader pulling their sleeve over their hands first, really worked out so well within this, and i was just as curious as them when the 'good god' (because who knows, really?) told them to break the statue.

nonnie i think you would love the idea of weeping angels if you aren't familiar with them already. do yourself a favour and look them up :)

thank you so much for sending this in! i've always adored narratives around magic and old, forgotten gods in beautiful temples. i also really liked the auntie's character as well as her vibrancy that makes the superstition more fun to read about. sure, she's a little crazy but she means well :')

[ne-videl]

𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘

♡

yandere Wriothesley x gn!reader

another long day with your duke.

yandere, reader is a murderer sentenced to death and is ok with it, imprisonment & isolation, mentions of going insane and you really are kinda insane, no happy end :(, poor english, sfw. not very yandere (except you're literally isolated) actually, but well I felt like thinking thoughts don't judge me

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: hiii

not really my best work but uh well I tried. the question is, how do I get that man to sit on my face 🤨

also go check my masterlist ^^

enjoy.

it's difficult to determine what time it is in the Meropide Fortress, so it is better to take a watch with you.

you turn over the next page with boredom, hardly paying attention to the contents of the book, and lazily glance at the clock. in the farthest corner of this prison, in a huge room, a murderer is deeply hidden, who is once again bored.

lunch has already passed, which means he will certainly come soon.

from the very beginning of your imprisonment, he always found you wherever you were hiding, and eventually you completely gave up trying to escape from him. after all, the world is not so huge, and your own is completely concentrated in this copper fortress.

your duke is the only one who speaks to you. actually, he was the reason for your forced loneliness, so that he could generously dispel your boredom. to be the only one who can do it at all.

and the gray, yellow and dirty-green walls of the copper corridors suddenly lose all their sullenness, and even breathing seemed to become easier, as soon as you heard this cherished "how are you". it's amazing what a live conversation with a person completely deprived of any human society can do!

yes, your kidnapper was kind and affectionate, of course, but he still was your kidnapper. even you forget about it sometimes.

well, who wouldn't start going crazy at your place?

Wriothesley combs your hair, humming softly.

"can you not make that face?" – duke bends down to look into your eyes, and his sharp gaze captures every tiny detail of your frown.

"you're awful at this." – you huffed, getting out of his arms.

"I'm trying to learn." – he answered you with a sly, deceptively harmless smile.

yes, that was his style. to pretend that everything is fine.

"I don't like it here. terribly boring." – you mumbled, leaning back so that your back rested against his broad chest. – "did you know that the lack of sunlight is bad for health?" – Wriothesley listened to your little tirade without interrupting you for a second, putting his hands on your shoulders and knowing full well that he was not going to let you go anywhere at all.

what else could he do? to look at you as much as he wanted, yes, at least he could do that. the duke kisses you on the top of your head, once again ignoring your words, and speaks with his kind smile, boring into your back with a loving, but slightly frightening look.

"let's talk about something else. you seem to have read a new book today." – Wriothesley grabs you by the arms, sitting down on the sofa and sitting you on his lap. you don't resist, but huff irritably.

even if you don't answer him, it's nice to just be in your company – he thinks, looking down at you.

"it's not fair." – you still don't even deign to give him your arrogant look – "other prisoners can move freely around the fortress. can talk to each other." – you remark bitterly, resentfully.

a strange, sticky feeling of contempt for the person sitting in front of you has passed through your heart. as if the sudden realization that you were locked up, and locked up for nothing, at his whim, suddenly came over you like a wave.

and resentment, anger and longing flashed in your eyes; a look that, however, was met with the same gentle, painfully sweet smile of your dear kidnapper. Wriothesley left a kiss on your trembling palm, and the pair of handcuffs on your wrists flashed in the dim light of your room.

they didn't constrain movements at all; and it was not even clear why these restraints were needed at all, carefully fastened by Wriothesley on your wrists and ankles like an engagement ring.

they didn't constrain movements at all, but nevertheless, they were always on you, and were palpable: like another reminder of your stolen freedom, forged in cold, soulless metal.

"but you're not like them at all, [name]. what if you get hurt?" – he almost purred, playfully, almost mockingly, as if perfectly aware of the absurdity and contrivance of his reason for keeping you under lock and key. – "oh, I would never forgive myself for that."

strong arms hug you, squeezing your shoulders in a tight, almost suffocating grip, and you internally laugh at yourself for another attempt to reason him. another failed attempt.

"I hate you, you know? I wouldn't put up with it if I could, but instead," – you feel the indifference slowly returning, filling your mind with the usual boredom. – "i'd strangled you instead." – you stretch out your chin more comfortably on his shoulder, ecstatically imagining how your hands close around his neck.

"I wouldn't mind." – Wriothesley pats you on the back, responding with the smile you know so well. – "please hate me until you die. never forgive me." – he exhales somewhere into your neck, and you are almost sure that on his face there is a familiar expression of sick, obsessive affection.

Wriothesley was really afraid of very few things, but even the tiny thought of your indifference drove him into a frenzy, ringing with an alarming noise in his head. even if you cannot love him, he could be satisfied with your hatred, any feeling. any.

please, hate me.

maybe one day your hatred will turn into love, maybe one day you will look at him the same way he looks at you.

please hate me until you die.

♡

"lovely." – Wriothesley briefly commented on your story about the contents of the book, sitting opposite you and sipping tea.

your duke always spoke lazily, with a tiny bit of fun in his voice, like an actor in an old play laughing from the stage. so that any will and desire to scream, cry and try to explain to him at least a little common sense immediately disappeared.

Wriothesley remembers your first meeting well. how the murderer in shackles laughed in the faces of the guards, led through the damp corridors of the fortress, and how relaxed, even familiar they behaved in front of him.

and how insignificant his greatness suddenly seemed, whole life and all death in front of this person, this different person, unlike anyone else he met.

"how happy and calm I am now that death is finally breathing down my back," – you smiled at him that day, – "do me a favor, your grace, please do not delay the execution."

oh, beautiful creature, how lovely is your smile. but why don't you deign to even look at him?

it was like a virus, like a bright flash; your image had entered into his consciousness, become ingrained in his blood; the memory of your laughing eyes could not be eliminated either by the judgment of reason or common sense. but it's not a bad feeling, he sometimes mused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

the duke liked it very much.

his obsession had neither teeth nor claws. he did not have that simple-minded fervor, haste with which a young man loves, or the cold cruelty with which a psychopath loves; on the contrary, the duke adored you tenderly, affectionately, like a good-natured dog, a breath of wind on a sultry summer day, a warm ray of sunshine after a cold winter. he never hurt you, rather, he took every tiny wound you had as his own.

and yet, there were shackles on your wrists and ankles, and you hadn't spoken to anyone but him for years. every day you felt how sanity was gradually slipping through your fingers, how consciousness and purity of thoughts were slowly being replaced by a static noise in your ears and that terrible, disgusting smell of dampness and the shine of copper pipes, and your once lively, thoughtful expression with a dull, meaningless calmness and a tired gleam in inflamed eyes. boredom, oh, what a boredom.

but Wriothesley didn't even think to stop your isolation.

how well you suited each other! if you have something to chat about before going to bed for so many years, then you were not mistaken when choosing a life partner.

even if said life partner became so against their will and chattered out of sheer boredom and loneliness: let it be, let it be so. the main thing is that he has you, and you have him. two out of seven billion, the prison's administrator and the murderer.

"freedom and equality?" – you raise your eyebrows in mock, arrogant surprise, – "to say that to the face of the person you've been keeping isolated for years, duke, you have to be either a fool or an incredible hypocrite."

"oh, I am undoubtedly a terrible fool, my dear [name]. the worst one you've ever known." – Wriothesley speaks in a laughing tone you know so well, sipping tea – "what other duke would allow himself to have conversations with a prisoner like this?"

you've never been impressed by his stories about the construction of the fortress; rather, they were depressing or, at the very least, made you smile sarcastically.

"indeed, you must be one of a kind." – you say lazily. boredom always leads to philosophical reflections, causing your mind to wander and hesitate.

almost all of your conversations were like this: meaningless, about everything and nothing at the same time. Wriothesley was talking because he desired your company, and you were talking because you had nothing else to do. oh, what a terrible melancholy! how can you not go crazy when every day is so similar to the previous one?

but at least your dear kidnapper was good at entertaining you.

and, in particular, one of his most outstanding skills was the ability to make you think over and over again that everything is fine; as if you are not a criminal at all, and he is not at all the one who makes you slowly go insane with loneliness.

"I love you, [name], do you remember that?" – Wriothesley speaks calmly, as if this is another conversation about something unimportant, abstract and meaningless. he speaks, glancing at you imperceptibly, as if trying to find an answer in your features, a reciprocity. something he could cling to, something that would tell him that you care, that at least you're sorry.

his infatuation has not been interesting or touching for a long time. you smile slyly, leaving him unanswered; rather, giving a silent answer, as you have done many times before. I know. and you know that I know, so why remind me of that?

duke is indeed a fool to keep repeating these words to you and keep hoping for a different result. for a result that won't happen.

but even seeing the sadness that flickered in his eyes for a second, you're not sorry. you're never sorry, and the fool is the one who thinks it could be otherwise.

"and even now, you don't love." – calmly, even casually, the duke concludes, but you know him too well not to see how his strong facade is cracking. – "and you'll never be able to?" – he looks up at you again, looking at you expectantly.

"never." – something made you feel overwhelmingly funny, as it has never been during your stay in this fortress.

as if in this conversation between you two he demanded an answer not really to his another confession, but rather, your explanation of this whole idiotic situation, as if he himself was not the cause of it. your whole current life suddenly seemed like a stupid joke, a meaningless performance for the amusement of a bored audience; and you must be an incredibly awful actor!

so you laughed.

"what guilt-seeking eyes you have, your grace." – wiping away a stray tear, you giggle – "and what should I do now, take up a revolver? take my own life? or should I be slavishly grateful to you all my life for the fact that you adore so much such a sinful and vicious me? oh, is it really all my fault?"

indeed, you must have gone completely crazy, you think with a laugh. the duke was somewhat taken aback by your sudden half–mad laughter, and could only look at you with sincere confusion, waiting for the end of your strange monologue.

"have mercy, your grace! redemption in this damn prison, love, remorse," – you lean closer, for some reason poking at him with your finger, and a handcuff glitters on your wrist – "I was spared from this. kindly leave this poor condemned person to wait for execution."

the duke silently looked at you with a cold, deathly calmness in the features of his beautiful face, but with a heavy, inflamed and passionate gaze. and it seemed to you that he would certainly die himself rather than let you die.

your cold hands intertwine with his hot, scarred ones, and you look into his eyes.

in a world without any hope or anything particularly important, the duke of Fontaine asked for the love of a murderer.

"I'm an awful fatalist, did you know that?" – Wriothesley leaves a kiss on your knuckles, looking at you with a vague, cruel emotion in eyes the color of a winter sky.

"you can be anyone and do anything you want as long as you stay here. stay, [name]."

you must not be the only one insane here, you think, looking at him desperately squeezing your hand.

you're not the only one who's cruel. just as you break his heart over and over again, he still keeps you in solitary confinement. you do not regret; but neither did he, that he so selfishly, on a whim and driven by low jealousy, deprived another person of any company except himself. it was cruelty, a blatant injustice; and Wriothesley understood that. and this made the situation worse, worse a hundredfold: he understood, but he did it anyway, and did not feel guilty for it.

none of you were sorry.

♡

today's execution seemed like a farce, a stupid misunderstanding – after all, here was his precious murderer, laughing and munching on their last meal, alive and cheerful, and sitting right in front of him. of course, there was no execution!

"come on, come on, take it off. I'm awfully tired to be in these things." – you sipped a fragrant tea, watching as Wriothesley huffs with a screwdriver in his hands over the shackles on your ankles, sitting on his knees.

duke sighed jokingly, taking off you the worn metal and watching you flex your limbs contentedly.

of course, there was no execution.

"it's summer now, isn't it?" – you ask, wiping crumbs from your lips, and answering to yourself. – "good, good. just wonderful. it's been a while since I've been in the sun."

Wriothesley just smiles weakly as he leads you by the hand out of your solitary confinement room.

a pleasant, warm and languid feeling curled up in his stomach when he held your cold palm in his. as if the whole life was waiting for him, life with you, as if everything was going to get better and it would certainly be fine.

there was no execution. there wasn't!

the guillotine flashed in the sun, reflected in the laughing eyes of the murderer.

and only one of the two remained.

it's 3AM now and I feel like I should go visit a therapist

[erendruggg]

Rengoku Kyojuro: "Your body language speaks to me"

Warnings : Smut, Dirty Talk, Car sex, Blow job Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Semi-public sex, Vaginal sex, Cow girl position, Praise kink

_______________________________

You were at a meal at Tengen's with Kyojuro and his colleagues, he asked you to go with him and you couldn't refuse except for the fact that you didn't know anyone.

But even so, you would have liked to be anywhere else than here. Not that they were horrible, well for the most part, but that you were hoping to spend some time alone with your husband.

Instead, you find yourself here, even though they are very friendly, like Mitsuri with whom you were able to talk and who reminds you of Kyojuro but with a little more delicacy.

She is social and also very beautiful, let's not lie.

Despite the nice encounters, you start to huff and puff in your corner and tell yourself that you are only there to decorate. You put your elbow on the table and hardly speak until you blow once and for all.

You thought it would be discreet, but it isn't, because Kyojuro starts to look at you out of the corner of his eye. You freeze at the look on your face and soon feel his hand on your thigh.

While he was talking like nothing was wrong, his hand was moving up and down, caressing you from top to bottom. You couldn't help but get little butterflies in your stomach, shivers of pleasure as they say.

So your posture was very different now as you saw how easily Kyojuro was pawing your thigh underneath his friends' table as he smiled and talked normally with them.

You were trying to control yourself but Kyojuro's gaze met your eyes again before moving up even further, placing his hand on your clothed pussy. He strokes it up and down and in small circles until you coughed loudly from the heat and excitement:

"Y/N is everything okay?" Shinobu asks you and you smile without realizing your quick answer: "Yes yes, everything is fine Shinobu!" The way you were suddenly fidgeting suggests otherwise so she looked at you for a moment before resuming her "conversation" with Mr.Tomioka.

You then take advantage of this moment to be able to tease Kyojuro in the same way by sliding your hand over his clothed cock. He restrains himself and you can feel it, his jaw twitching as you gently stroke his dick with your fingertips.

He smiles before opening his mouth to turn his tongue into laughter, a sign of anger and frustration but also excitement. He leans into your ear, smiling at his friends, and said:

"If only we weren't in public, I could have my head between your legs and make you come as many times as you like." "Oh yeah? Do it then..." You say as his eyes darken with desire. He then slides his hand under your dress and reaches your pussy after moving your panties.

You tried to remain calm but it seemed impossible as he placed his finger on your clit and gently pinched it.

"Fuck! "A sound escape you followed by a cough to cover it up as Kyojuro leans in looking worried but smiling victoriously.

"My love, are you all right? "He looks at you and everyone look worried as you still cough.

"I think we'll go home Tengen, my wife doesn't look fit to stay, she's very tired but thanks to you for inviting us again it was nice." You stand up trying to calm down or rather calm down your lie and make it more realistic as you walk towards the exit with your husband.

"Take care of yourself Y/N! "Mitsuri yells and everyone waves goodbye, you smile and continue your act to the car. Kyojuro rushes you to the car, opens the door for you to get in, and then hurries back in.

"You're a fucking tease," you say in his ear as he starts to take off his trousers, showing a visible bulge: it looks like this case has made him a little too hot.

"Help me out, will you? "With both fingers on your chin, he wore a dark look, full of desire but at the same time pleading.

"What do you want me to help you with?" You leans closer to him until your chest was against his torso.

"I want you to suck me." The grip on your chin was much stronger and he then guided your hand over his erect cock.

"My good girl does want to suck Daddy's cock doesn't she?" He coos, sliding his thumb into your mouth as you lowered yourself low enough to be in front of his cock.

You take the time to remove it from his boxers and wank it gently, looking into his eyes.

The pre-cum was visible and you stroked his glans with the tip of your thumb. You can feel him tense up at the very least of your actions. Then you decide to suck him for real, eager for his taste. You want to taste it.

Rocking your head up and down, you suck him, maintaining eye contact as he congratulates you.

"Yes, just like that, princess." His eyes were full of desire just watching you suck him, legs spread like that.

"You look so beautiful, with your mouth filled like that" He coos as he rolls your hair around, pulling it a little which made you moan on his cock.

"Honey, I know you can take anything better than this." You decide to shove his member down your throat until you cough for real this time.

"Fuck yes" With a gasp, you hear him swear until he's thrusting his hips down your throat. Your panties never stop drooling as you hear his grunts, Kyojuro has always been a very expressive person during sex and that always got you more.

"Am I going to come in your mouth princess? Can I? You want daddy's cum in your mouth mh?" You nod frantically and continue to suck on it as you move your other hand down to start the circles on your clit.

"Aah~" With a grunt, you felt the liquid spill into your mouth.

"Swallow." says Kyojuro as he lifts your face, you did so directly and he smiled at you.

"Good girl." You give a final lick before climbing on top of him astride.

"So excited... you want daddy to take care of you, is that it?" You smile and get on the seat next to you to take off your panties.

"Yes, I need help, so bad daddy..."

"Where to, sweetheart? Where do you need help? Show me" His voice was honeys as he had his innocent eyes.

You point to your clit and start circling it, moaning as you press yourself against the door.

"You're so beautiful like this, let me make you feel good, okay? You deserve it so much."

He come and kisses you for real, his tongue dancing with yours, and even though the kiss was full of desire you could feel the love he had for you, he loves you and wants to make you feel good.

You moan against his lips as he begins to move a finger inside you.

"So wet for me, just for me, isn't it?" He whispers his words to you before pulling you into another, more greedy kiss.

"Yes Kyojuro, just for you." You manage to answer between kisses and he smiles before bending down to your burning pussy.

"Let me taste you." He kisses your inner thighs as you squirm under his movements.

"Kyo don't tease me too mu-AH~" A cry of surprise escape you as his mouth was on your clit. He begins to suck greedily on it as if he hadn't eaten in days.

"You taste so good, I could eat you like this forever." His breath made your clit vibrate as he continues with little moans of satisfaction.

You were playing with your nipples while he was busy sucking your clit.

"I've been waiting for this all night, you're going to cum in my mouth aren't you princess?"

He inserts three fingers inside you which made you jump with pleasure.

"I love seeing you like this..." he says before fingering you harder. You were on the verge of cumming, your legs shaking as you held on to what you could.

"Fuck Kyo I'm going to-" you bit your lip as he sucks you faster, his fingers quicken and he moans against it.

"Come for me, I want to taste you, I want to feel how good you taste.."

With a cry of pleasure you come on his fingers. He sucks them one by one before your eyes before putting them in your mouth.

"You taste so good as usual." He smiles at you, charmed by the way you obediently suck on his fingers.

"I want your cock babe." You push him back in his seat as he laughs at your confidence. "Yes, you want it? Show me, fuck yourself on that cock, ride it."

You manage to insert his cock into you with a mutual moan. You start to roll your hips and Kyojuro holds you, encouraging you.

"Yes, please yourself, that cock belongs to you." He whispers in your ear as you begin to jump gently. The sound of your pussy taking his cock was obscene, so you leaned down and pulled his head into your chest. He began to suck on your nipples with a moan.

"You take my cock so well darling it's like this pussy was made just for me isn't it?"

"This pussy is all yours Kyo, yes all yours" You moan as he is won over by your answer, your buttocks bouncing and you are slowly getting tired.

"Are you tired, beautiful? Come here" His tone was reassuring as you leans in and he begins to lift his hips to thrust into you.

His hips slammed hard which earns you a loud moan.

"That's so good, yes, so good!" Your mewling was enough for Kyojuro and he knew he would soon cum a second time.

"This pussy is so fucking perfect, let me come in this fucking pussy huh? Yes you will take it huh?"

"Yes give me your babies Kyo ! " You nestle your head in his neck as he continues to grunt. You weren't far from coming and your legs were shaking from the thrusting hips.

The noise was so erotic and the moaning wasn't helping either.

"I'm going to - cum hah~" Between jerky breaths he replies:

"Me too sweetheart, me too." He goes faster and faster as he kneads your ass.

"Come on my dick baby, cum on that dick," he says with a whine as you crie out in pleasure to finally cum like he told you to.

"Shit I-ah~" He lets out a small scream before emptying himself into you. His cock in your pussy emptied and you moaned at the warm sensation.

"You did so well, so beautiful." He covers you with kisses before grabbing tissues to keep it from dripping.

"You're so perfect..." You laugh as he kisses you tenderly.

"You then..."

"How about a second round?" His voice was quite loud but you laughed. He comes over and kisses you on the cheek one last time before starting the car and heading back to your place. Let's just say that after that night, the next day you could hardly walk. Kyojuro has incredible stamina ;)

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

"Tengen, what is Kyojuro's car still doing here? He should have left already, shouldn't he?"

"Yes, you're right Shinobu! It's weird isn't it?"

Tengen laughed at him when he saw the car shaking.

"Those perverts can't even contain themselves.."

________________________________

I was bored lol.

Hope you liked it, it's something that I wrote a longgggg time ago.

So if it's cringe I'm sorry. And f there is some mistakes just know that English isn't my first language.

I will comeback when I'm horny (jk jk unless...)

Plus I prefer writing on Tumblr, idk it's more fun than Wattpad ( my wattpad is erendrug)

Anyway kiss

[ummmlife]

Nanami using his "christmas present" in a very rough way!

Warnings!; MDNI this is literature porn, if you lie and read santa won't give you any nanami present 😋 , reader doesn't have an specified gender/genitalia , dom!top!nanami × sub!bottom!reader , facefucking , spankings , no foreplay , rough , angry!nanami , gift wrapping tape , dirty talk + degradation

Having a joyful christmas shouldn't be that hard. Waking up next to your boyfriend while his protective embrace covers you from the coldness of the morning, get ready together for the night, eat some KFC's chicken for dinner and then open up your gifts.

Your lovely man got you everything you were asking through the year. Every single jewelery, perfume, bag, shoes, clothes... Everything was there in their respective bags under the tree, who could be the luckiest lover in the world if it wasn't you? With a man like Kento, that was unbeatable.

Then Kento asked for his presents, you bought them, of course, his presents were hiding under your shared bed, why? Well, you decided to play a little prank to him, silly you.

The prank was to, flirtatiously, undress yourself to reveal a nice gift wrapping tape enveloping your naked body.

— "Here is your present!"

— "... Only that?"

To say that you blood run cold when you saw Kento's displaced expression was short to describe it. But he wasn't just displaced, no, Kento was enraged and we all know how blood-curdling that is. He spent so much money in those presents for you and you only got him what he can take every day he wants? Unreasonable, stupid even.

How ungrateful you are.

Kento got up from the couch and, even before you could reveal the prank, he grabbed your hair with one of his hands, pulling your head back as tight as he could for you to face him. — "What do you take me for?". More than offended, Kento sounded genuinely hurt by your "present".

You tried to speak again, of course, but this time his fingers in your mouth were more than enough to make you shut up. — "I don't want to hear anything from you tonight, I really don't want to..." . He took his fingers from your mouth and started to unbutton his pants, — "But if I got nothing else... then I'll use my present as much as I want. Get on your knees, now".

A mix of terror and eagerness ran through you as your body obeyed the words of the man you love the most, knees on the carpet, face up and mouth wide open, you even had the decency to stick out your tongue for him. It didn't take long for Kento to take his thick length out of his underwear and slide it in one single thrust all deep down to your throat, his hand taking place on your hair once more.

Thrust by thrust, Kento made it obvious for you that neither your constant gagging nor the lack of oxygen you were getting was going to stop him from using your mouth.

His growls and soft sighs decorated the living room of that peaceful home, accompanied by sounds of his balls hitting on your chin and your own gagging sounds. — "This is what you wanted, isn't it?.. Hah... What– ngh-! did you expect after disappointing me like– ah! like that?!"

But it wasn't enough to satisfied himself though.

Kento took his manhood out of your maw just to push your body against the couch, forcing your face down while your back arches. His palm smacking your ass sent a chill through your spin, but you couldn't savor the pain before another slap was send by him. Just like a naughty kid, you were being spanked for your bad behavior towards your loving boyfriend.

— "How ungrateful and foolish you are". Kento never used to be this rough, never calling you mean names unless you asked for it, never treating you with hate. Deep down you know that if he was actually hurting you, he'll stop, although... why could you him to stop anyway?

Kento stopped the spanking treatment for you to press yous head on the couch. You felt how he simply spat on your hole just to slide his throbbing shaft with a single thrust, the pain was unbearable at first, and Kento knew that because one of his hands moved to your hip to start rubbing it, that was his way to comfort you despite all his mood.

Once you got used to his size, because Kento still waited for you to feel comfortable, your inner walls became the victim of a delicious assault that was leaving your mind and senses all numb. — "Is this what you wanted? Ahn... Mngh-ph! Having this filthy hole filled with your boyfriend's cock? Huh? So greedy...". His movements didn't do anything but increase in force and roughness.

Your moans filled up the silence of your home as Kento's groans and sighs accompanied the melody of your screams drowned out by the cushions while the creaking of the chair marked the pace of this symphony that your bodies played.

It took a few minutes to feel the tickling sensation in your belly anticipating the culmination of your torturous pleasure while Kento's thrust erratically hitted your most sensitive spot. You couldn't see him directly, but by closing your eyes you could clearly focus on the mental image of your boyfriend's face as he's about to cum as well.

Small drops of sweat falling from his hair as this sticks on his forehead, his teeth clenching his jaw as the his heavy breathing leaves his nose. That focusing expression that he makes when he's avoiding himself to cum so quickly with a small frown and his eyes closed.

It was too much, Kento always make you go crazy for him and visualizing his expression of pleasure, while your body is focusing on the sensation of his manhood sliding in and out from you as his hips hit your flesh, just made easy for you to reach your peak. You didn't want to cum that fast, you wanted this moment to last, that was until Kento started to show his real voice, — "Mmm-ahh. A-aahh... Darling! I'm– nnhg! going to... to cum! Haahhh!".

Pure and loud moans of pleasure chime your ears, that was enough to make the orgasm hit all your body and make you shake. You could feel Kento's cock twitching inside of you as his fingers squeezed your hips tightly. It was marvelous.

Kento's thick cum fell from your greedy hole to the floor, running down from your thighs. Just like you, he was catching his breath before sliding out of you and slowly sitting back on the couch, his expression changed from a irritated one to a bitter one. — "Did you seriously not buy me a present?". Kento asks you with a obvious angry pout on his lips, how adorable.

You couldn't help but smile softly and move your body slowly, with Kento's help, to sit next to him.

— "Your presents are under the bed, I just wanted to play a little prank on you".

Your boyfriend's eyes lit up in realization, he looks at you now all embarrassed for how he reacted. Kento instinctively holds your hand as he looks down ashamed.

— "Can I... go and take my presents?" Is he really asking you permission for that? Obviously you didn't say no and as you took off the uncomfortable gift wrapping tape from your chest, Kento came back with 5 gift bags and a gleeful smirk.

To compensate all the damage caused, Kento cleaned all the kitchen and living room and also carried you in his arms for the rest of the night, because, poor you, who shouldn't move your legs for some brutal assault... That in his words, nevertheless, you were more than happy to spend the next hours in your boyfriend's arms, watching some cheesy american christmas movies and grabbing some snacks together.

fun facts with miss bibi ! for the ones who don't know 🤓☝️

in japan, christmas is more a valentine's day snowy edition, so you can perceive the christmas spirit more from the young couples (and the kids, of course). that's why a lot of people spend their christmas with their partners, unlike us who usually spend it with our families.

also, due to the arrival of many new brands from overseas to japan and thanks to an excellent advertising team, it became a tradition for the japanese people to have kfc as their christmas dinner since the 80's.

that's all folks!

[covetyou]

honey, you're familiar

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Tess Servopoulos x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con, oral (f receiving), fingering, readers first time with another woman, one use of good girl, drug reference. word count: 3.3k summary: The first time your father struggles to afford his pills you figure you'll do what you can to help. All you need to do is find his dealer and talk to him, right? How difficult could a man like that be to find.

A/N: we needed more time with Anna Torv Tess. Like, a whole series more time.

prequel to something wretched about this. can be read as a stand-alone.

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divider by @saradika

Now's your chance. Probably fucking stupid really, pulling a stunt like this on a woman like her, but you don't know how else to reach her, where else to go. This is the best option you have. So you grab her arm.

Your fingers have barely clasped around her jacket when she's twisting, hand raised ready to back-hand whoever dared to grab her. You flinch back, waiting for the sting of pain across your cheek, but instead she hesitates, stopping herself from striking you.

Her face pinches into a confused frown, and she wrenches your hand from her arm, throwing it away from her like you're some dirty, filthy thing, and stalks off before you can say anything.

"Please..." you start, chasing after her, not even trying to be discreet. She rounds an alleyway, and suddenly she's grabbing you, dragging and pulling you down the street, away from prying eyes, up some stairs into what you thought was an abandoned apartment block and pushing you against a wall.

"The fuck do you want."

"I'm sorry for grabbing you, I am, I just need information and your name is the only one I have and I-"

"Who the fuck is giving you my name and what for," her hand raises again, and this time you think she might really do it.

"My dad! My dad, he's sick, he has a dealer who helps him, I just need his name, I need to go see him, dad's got bad again and I-"

She backs away from you to lean on the wall opposite as you speak, shaking her head at your rambling. You're clearly already giving her a fucking headache, and she pinches her nose and raises a palm to stop you. "Slow the fuck down."

"My dad is sick."

"I know who your daddy is, you don't need to tell me he's sick, I know. What I'm wondering is why his daughter is snooping around, grabbing people, asking for names she apparently doesn't know."

"I just need to know who his dealer is. We can't pay for the pills this month and I thought maybe if I spoke to him I could..." You trail off. You both knew just speaking to whoever your dads dealer was wouldn't be the end of it, it never was. The dream was you'd asked nicely and be given what you asked for, but the reality was you probably wouldn't get it without giving something first.

"And you got my name how?"

"My dad mentioned... you?"

"Right," she says, biting back a laugh, before pushing herself away from the wall she'd been leaning on and clapping her hands. "Well, you're in luck. I'm feeling generous, and I think I can point you in the right direction. Come with me."

You follow, like a dog on a bitch in heat, practically running after her as she strides down the hallway, yanking open a door and pushing you inside. She doesn't bother to look around, knowing full well the building is cold and abandoned for a reason.

You walk further into the room as she enters behind you. There's an old desk and chair on one side, and scraps of wood, old broken furniture and stacks of chairs littered around the edges, pushed against the walls. Once upon a time it would have been a make shift office space, but now it was nothing better than a grimy, long forgotten storage room.

You turn just in time to see her propping a chair under the door handle. You stare at it as she walks past you, taking a seat at the desk. Raising a heavy booted foot up on the worn wooden edge and clasping her hands together, she looks at you with a gleam in her eyes, resting her elbows on the arms of the chair.

"So," she begins with a smirk, as a thread of realization starts to crawl up your spine. "How can I help you?"

Shit. Shit. Your dad didn't give her name because she was a friend, she was his fucking dealer. If he'd been honest with you, told you when you asked who was helping him instead of being so cagey about it, this never would have happened. You wouldn't be stuck in this room with Tess, skirting around the fact you definitely were not willing to offer your body in exchange for your fathers medication.

You quickly realize there is no way to recover from this, no way to back track or back out now. She's going to give you shit for this, you just know it, and you're going to be sent out of here humiliated and with nothing to show for it. You might have even ruined it all for your dad. The thought makes your head swim and bile rise in your throat.

You gape at her for a while and she stares back, challenging you to say something, anything, to her.

"Look," you start, trying to laugh it off, lighten the mood. "I think I've got things mixed up, so I'll just -"

"So you'll what?" she laughs cruelly. "You thought you could come find his dealer, drop to your knees, suck a dick, and get your daddies pills for free."

"I didn't - I never -"

"Do it then," she says from her seat. "Get on your knees."

You stop and start a few times, but no words come to mind. There is no way out of this. So, you slowly sink to your knees in the middle of the dusty room. You're going to get those pills.

As your knees bite into the grit on the floor you watch as her head tips to rest on the back of the chair and her shoulders softly shake, her laughter filling the room.

"Cute," she says, looking back at you, leaning forward and beckoning you toward her with two fingers. "Come here, pretty girl," she croons. "And I don't remember saying you could stand up."

You shuffle over to her on your knees, trying to keep your balance so your hands don't touch the gritty floor.

"You're going to do something for me, and then I'm going to do something for you, okay?"

"Okay," you nod in agreement, unable to make eye contact with her. That is what you came out today for after all, though you can't say the change in anatomy was expected.

"And then when you leave here, you keep your mouth shut, are we clear?"

You bite down on your lips and nod at her from the floor, looking every bit as pathetic as you feel. None of this is going how you'd planned, and you're not sure if that's for better or for worse.

"Ever eaten pussy," she asks, pulling her jacket from around her. You look up at her and shake your head, feeling impossibly small as you sink even further down on your knees. You hadn't, but had thought about it, wanted it, just never found a person to do it with, and certainly never expected to be doing it now.

"Well then, sweetie, you better be a quick learner."

She unzips her pants and pulls them under her ass, yanking them to her knees. It's all so quick you don't have time to register what's going on until her hand is on you.

"Come here," she grabs at your arm, pulling you closer as she kicks her pants to her ankles and slides back in the chair. She yanks you forward, lifts her legs over your head and pulls you in toward her with the fabric caught around her ankles. You're caged in now, trapped between her pants and her cunt, and you are totally, utterly, stunned.

"Don't, wouldn't... wouldn't a... man be better?" you stutter, trying to keep your eyes on hers and not between her legs. It's a stupid question, you know it, but you're nervous and stalling for more time doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

"If I wanted a man, I would get a man. More trouble than they're worth most of the time. You gonna try to stick your dick in me, pretty girl?"

She grabs your chin, and when you don't answer she clicks her tongue at you, pulling your face down between her legs.

"Didn't think so."

You finally look down between her soft thighs. You hadn't seen if she was wearing panties, for all you knew she was going commando under her jeans, but now here she was completely bare before you. Seeing another woman like this was strange, but not unwelcome. If you'd had more time, and the circumstances had been a bit different, you would have liked to have spent more time just looking at her. You'd never seen one up close before, only glimpsing your own as you looked down your body. Given the chance you know you would spend hours here between her legs just looking, exploring.

But that wasn't what this was, and as beautiful as Tess was, this was business.

You cast one last tentative look up as you slowly lower your face to her cunt, catching her eyes as she looks down expectantly at you.

You press your lips to her inner thigh as she watches, kissing as close to her center as you can be without touching, and let out a shaky breath. That's the first hurdle dealt with, but nerves still bubble in your belly. You kiss her soft skin once more, nosing at the sensitive flesh and breathing in her heady scent.

"Mm. Well, shit, that feels nice," she sighs, letting her head fall back and closing her eyes. You do it again, spurred on by her approval and the growing wetness between your own legs, feathering kisses all around the outside of her cunt, chaining them together so eventually you're mouthing around her delicate skin. You let your tongue peak out as your lips meander across her flesh, leaving wet trails in your wake as you move.

You psych yourself up, just go for it, taste her, do it, she wants it, what could go wrong, before you finally take the dive and lick a delicate strip through her folds. She tastes similar to you, but not quite. You give her another gentle lick, your wet tongue curiously lapping at her entrance before you move up, up, up, and press a soft kiss to her clit. Her entire body relaxes and shifts down in the chair, her legs spreading further over the arms, giving you more access and her tangled feet pushing into your back to pull you in closer.

You kiss it again, and again, before you let your tongue slip out to lap softly at the sensitive nub, licking upwards in slow strokes and dragging your bottom lip across it. You suckle on her clit for a little before releasing, wishing desperately now that you had something between your own legs too.

Feeling bolder, you lick a broader stripe across her cunt, your breath getting caught in your throat, and coming out as a small moan. Tess's sigh in response is all you need to start devouring her, dipping your tongue into her slick hole. You let your hand come up to pull her apart, making it easier for you to lap at her folds. You know your actions are unrefined, messy, but as she starts to moan above you you don't care. You feel as lost in it as she is, imagining how this would feel. A soft face and delicate fingers between your thighs. Gentle, feminine moans dancing softly across your pussy. You groan into her wet heat at the thought, rocking your hips into the empty air in an effort to chase some kind of relief.

"Keep moaning all pretty like that and anyone would think you like eating pussy."

Your eyes catch hers, dark and fiery, staring down at you. You want to tell her you do like it, you'd dreamed of it, wanted to do it so many times before but never had the chance. The most you'd ever done with a woman involved gentle kisses and light touches - thrilling at the time, but nothing compared to being between another woman's thighs. You don't dare take your mouth off of her to tell her any of it, so you moan again mumble a mhm into her, bringing your other hand to her thigh to grip as you do.

You let your grip anchor you down, slow your movements. The few times a man had bothered doing this to you, their rapid sloppy movements felt good, but not enough. Of all the times you'd gotten yourself off, you needed precision and repetition to get there, and now that you'd had a taste and indulged your own desires, you wanted to give Tess what she wanted, what you'd agreed to. You wanted to make her come.

Your fingers stroke at her pussy, and you bring your mouth back to her clit, licking and sucking once again. Your circle it gently, all around and then gently spiralling in to the center. You stay there, keeping your tongue circling in small, soft, circles feeling as her thigh begins to quiver beneath your hand.

"That's it," she sighs, and you preen at the praise, moaning into her clit to let her know you'll keep going, won't stop until she says otherwise.

It's not long before her hand comes to your face, stroking your cheekbone. She pulls you back, unlatching you from her clit. Swallowing and licking your lips for remnants of her, you look up in confusion.

"Give me your fingers now, pretty girl. Put them in."

Oh. Right. Of course. You let go of her thigh and trace your fingers around her entrance, watching in amazement as you circle them in her wetness. Your body looked like this too, got wet just like she did. You tease at her opening for a moment, knowing how good it felt for yourself when you tickled yourself like this, before you slip one in just a fraction, wiggling it slightly as you tease her. A second finger joins the first, and you're soon pushing two small fingers into her cunt.

She feels different to you inside. You'd never even considered it, that any would feel anything other than like yours, but when you push your fingers into her, the ridges and smooth surfaces you were expecting aren't where you thought they'd be. The familiarity was there, but you didn't know hers like you knew yours.

Her eyes are closed again when you next look up, pumping your fingers slowly into her. You bring your face back down to her clit, keeping your eyes locked on her face as you latch back over the sensitive spot and suck. She gasps, her feet clamping down on your back even firmer pushing your face straight into her cunt. You start to lick at her, going back to soft circles around her clit as your fingers pump shallowly in her wet pussy.

You don't relent this time, and she doesn't drag you back. Instead, her hand finds its way to the back of your head, holding you in place as you suckle on her clit and finger her cunt in tandem, bringing her closer and closer to climax. The muscles inside her soon start to clench, her clit start to twitch in your mouth.

You're eager now, as if you weren't before, letting your circles on her clit become firmer as you moan wantonly into her folds. You're breathing deep through your nose, mouth engulfing her cunt, devouring her with each stroke of your tongue.

Her own moans are softer, less desperate, than your own. But then her hips start to rock into your mouth, and you know she's close. You don't change a thing, keeping the movement of your fingers and your tongue the same as she rocks against your mouth, using you to get herself off.

"Yes, yes, yes," she whispers through soft moans. "That's it, pretty girl. Good girl. Fuck, yes. Yes."

The pumping of your fingers gets impossible as her whole body stiffens, pussy gripping your fingers in tight spasms as she comes, hips gyrating into your face faster until her legs are clamping around your ears. You keep going, suckling at her clit with your fingers buried in her cunt until her hips are trying to move away from you, to get away from the oversensitivity brought on by your mouth.

"Ohh."

You pull back from her pussy, gasping for air, and looking up at her once again as your fingers still inside her. The furrow between her brows has relaxed, and even in the dull light of the room she looks beautiful, peaceful.

"Good job," she murmurs, patting the side of your cheek. She pulls your cream covered fingers out from inside her, pushing them toward your mouth. You slide them between your lips, cleaning off her cum as she watches. Just like the ones before it, you can't help the moan that falls from your lips as you taste her.

A moment later, she's lifting her legs up onto the table and motioning for you to move. You shuffle out from between them, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you try to ignore the throbbing of your own pussy. That was it then. You'd done it. Why were you disappointed it was over?

You stand and brush the dust off your knees with your dry hand as she pulls her pants back up and zips them up. You don't look at her, you don't want to be caught watching, so you trace the path of a dust mote dancing in a sunbeam that has broken through an old board on the window.

"Definitely a quick learner," she says, walking toward you. If she knows how wet eating her pussy had made you, she doesn't let on.

Her cheeks are flushed a deeper shade of pink than when she'd first dragged you in here. You briefly wonder if you walked out of here together, maybe people would know what you'd been up to. But, her soft face and relaxed features don't last long, and she slips the mask back on, brows furrowing at you as she moves the chair from under the door handle.

"Not that I think you'll tell anyone you had your face buried in someone's cunt, but if you do, your daddy will be going cold turkey. I don't do this, we clear? Even for pretty girls like you," she says, depositing a small bag of pills into your hand. "Now, get going."

You grip the bag in your damp fingers as you walk home, hoping it'll all be enough to get your father through another few weeks in the QZ.

It took a few days for your dad to get back on his feet again, but once he started there was no stopping him. He never asked you about the pills, and you never told him. It seemed both of you could be cagey when you wanted to be. You also knew that if he needed it, you'd go do it again in a heartbeat.

Collection day comes and goes, and he's strolling in the door, depositing a small container of pills onto your dining table as you pull together a meager dinner.

"Shame to see her go," he says with a soft smile, patting your shoulder in his usual greeting.

You stop in your tracks. "Who?" You'd lost a lot of people over the years, and it was never good news when it happened.

"Tess. She's stopping dealing with that side of the business," he says, pointing to the pills on the table. "Said she'd pass me over to her 'business associate'. I'm meeting with him next Thursday. Nothing should change, but we'll see how it goes."

"'Business associate'?"

He's already grabbed some food, stuffing it into his mouth in a big bite before he answers. "Joel Miller."

Fuck.

Tag List: given it's not the usual p-boy content I haven't tagged any of you this week.

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