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mountainsandmayhem · 3 days ago

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BDSMaid - Chapter 6

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.

AN: I don't think I understood the term "labour of love" until right now. I'm emotionally exhausted yet so fucking proud at the same time. Thank you @lotusbxtch for fixing all my grammar and formatting. I also couldn't of done this without @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69, @alltheirdamn, and @for-a-longlongtime (even if you did just try to distract me with Santi the entire time LOL)

Word Count: 14.6k (sorry, grab a snack or two)

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3

CW: use of petnames, mention of losing a spouse, mentions of child abuse (mostly verbal), use of nick names (baby, sweet girl, etc.), dirty talk, spanking, sexual activity in public, kissing, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), consumption of alcohol, mutual pining, mentions of falling in love, Dom/sub dynamics.

You: 911, I need to go buy a dress, but ya’ll can’t ask me what it’s for Laren: no strings attached shopping? Fuck yeah! You: I’m serious though Laren: Dude, I won’t ask you as long as you don’t ask about the hickey on my neck Jamie: Damn, my dad’s in California so I can’t leave the office. You: hmm…maybe we just tell each other one secret each Laren: oh sorry, forgot I have to vacuum my cat today, can’t shop You: fine, no asking about the hickey. Pick you up at noon? Jamie: Have fun. I need a sugar daddy. Odette: booo! I’m studying. Someone alert me when we learn about the hickey.

You

Laren’s jaw drops as you step out of the dressing room, the soft silk of the floor length black gown skims against your body. Your eyes trail down the thin straps along your shoulders and down the deep v that sits low on your sternum. You’ve never appreciated your small breasts until now. The risque cut has a soft and romantic feel. Somehow, so does the long slit up your one leg, stopping much higher than most black tie venues would find acceptable. You spin to take in the way the silk dips low on your back. Yeah, Joel Miller is going to love this.

“You look stunning. I’m not gonna ask, but whoever you’re wearing that for is going to fall in love with you. I might fall in love with you.”

You laugh at her, watching as she tugs the collar of her sweater up to cover the very prominent purple hickey on her pulse point. If only she knew how ridiculous that statement really was. Joel Miller, your dom, falling in love with you. It’s impossible.

The big box that you stuffed the small, pink and bedazzled box in snickers in your mind then taunts you in her uppity British accent. He loves you, remember how he held your hand so tenderly through that last orgasm? “It’s a date”, “It’s only you”.

You shake your head and run your hands down your torso and hips, the silk feeling like water under your hands.

“Wow, that dress was made for you.” The peppy store clerk says as she rounds the corner to the dressing room. “Oh! I have just the accessory, if you don’t mind me showing you?”

You nod and then look over at Laren through the mirror. The two of you haven’t been friends for that long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s not wearing her massive engagement ring, plus that giant love bite; something is off. “I’m not gonna ask about the hickey, but are you ok?”

“Ya - I’m fine, why?” Her phone goes off in her purse for what feels like the hundredth time since you picked her up. She hasn’t looked at it once and this newest alert doesn’t change that.

“No reason. I’m here for you though. I hope you know that.” The corners of her mouth lift, but that vivacious sparkle in her eye doesn’t make an appearance.

You spend longer than you ever had getting ready on Friday. You’ve shaved, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of your skin. You painted your fingers and toes with a fresh coat of pearly white polish, noticing that the skin around your cuticles on your hands isn’t picked clean. For the first time in your life, your anxiety hasn’t needed its usual outlet; picking and pushing at your nails until they’re clean. Even with the last few days kicking your ass, Mister Miller made it better, made you better.

After about three hours, you’ve completed the look: big loose curls, one side pinned behind one ear with a gold clip, exposing the soft slope of your neck that Joel loves to press his lips to. You’ve opted for a neutral glam look; a light smokey grey eye, flirty lashes, a touch of blush and highlighter and a nude lip.

You keep the jewelry simple, just thin gold hoop earrings and two dainty golden chains, the accessories that the sales girl picked out. The first chain is the longest; one end loops tight to your throat then lays down your sternum, a small clip on the other end holds it in place to the lacy black thong you bought for the occasion. The second chain wraps around your exposed thigh. A few small crystals dangle off the garter. It feels perfect for a sex club, almost like you’re being tied up in gold.

After wrapping the gift you bought for Joel today you debate taping the dress in place. It’s a sex club, surely a nip slip isn’t the worst thing that can happen. However, Joel would probably forcefully remove anyone who got a peek. As tempting as it is to witness that, you decide to save his sanity for one more day and after placing the last piece of tape you hear the rev of his engine coming down your street. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, it’s been weeks since you’ve heard that sound. That deep rumble will probably always fill you with an excited anticipation of seeing Mister Miller.

You agreed to let him pick you up tonight since Odette is out. You slip your perfectly pedicured toes into black heeled sandals, working the small golden buckle around the ankle quickly as Joel’s shiny black Jag parks in front of your building. You watch from the window as he gets out of the driver's side door, flowers wrapped in brown paper clutched in his hand. A man that size doesn’t look like he’d fit in that sleek sports car.

Even from your birdseye view from the fourth floor he looks absolutely gorgeous. You’re sure once he’s right in front of you he’ll be devastatingly handsome, especially once he’s added the gift you got him. Similar to you, he’s in all black tonight.

The beep of his car locking and the buzz of your door go at the same time and you excitedly hit the button to let him up. It feels like hours before there’s a light knock on your front door. After a shaky breath, you open the door.

Fuuuuuck me, you think as you take him in and actively stop yourself from drooling.

He looks as hot as sin dressed in all black, the lapels of the jacket and the tie slightly silky against the flat black of the rest of his clothing. He’s the living, breathing epitome of JMKink right now. Dressed like that matte black letterhead he still leaves you notes on when you clean for him. You lick your lips as your eyes trail back up his tie. Fuck, you want him to wrap it around your wrists.

He steps into your front entrance and the apartment feels so much smaller; almost like he takes up every bit of space and simultaneously sucks all the air out of you. His hair is parted to the side, trimmed neatly around his ears, curls perfectly placed. You’re sure it was effortless on his part, just running his fingers through it after getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips. Your mouth waters as you continue to just stare at one another.

Joel

“Wow,” he finally manages to rasp. His throat feels like it's full of sand all of a sudden. He clears it gently before continuing. “You look…you’re always beautiful, but you are…”

His eyes travel up and down your body again, he’s feeling lost for words which is not something that happens to him often. He watches your bottom lip slip between your teeth, waiting for him to form a thought.

“Sorry, sweet girl, I need a second here.” He places the bouquet of wildflowers on the small table at the entry then reaches out towards you. He actually feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you soon. The whorls and calluses of his fingers drag down the warm, soft skin of your arm gently before he closes his hand around yours. Usually, he loves how small your hand looks in his, but he’s finding it impossibly hard to break eye contact with you right now. As he steps in closely you smile sweetly at him and he’s surrounded by the smell of mint, lavender and something distinctly you. “You look life-alteringly gorgeous. I’m not sure if that’s a word, but wow, Freckles.”

You place your free hand on his chest and he’s sure you can feel how hard his heart is pounding behind his chest. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear his heart at this point. He cups your face with his other hand and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the way you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him deepen the kiss. He swallows the quiet moan that you make just for him. You pull away too quickly for him, an excited smile across your face.

“I got you something!” You spin and he’s left breathless again by the low back of the dress and the way the silk skirt sways with your hips.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, following you into the living area of your small apartment. “I don’t want you spending your money on me, sweetheart.”

You spin again and his cock twitches as he catches just how high the slit of the skirt is, and the golden jewelry wrapped around your thigh. In your hands is a large, light brown box tied with a black ribbon. “Technically, I spent your money on you,” you say with a wink. “Open it.”

He steps in close, watching your face go from excited to downright giddy as he pulls at the ribbon. He slips the lid off the box and stares down at the exact same black Stetson that he sent with Tiffany. His heart stops beating as the memories, both good and bad, flood through him. This is the same hat he wore the night he met her, the night of their first date, the night he told her he loved her for the first time, the night he married her. Joel Miller doesn’t believe in signs from the universe, but this? This is something.

No, he thinks as emotions start to clog his throat. This was Tiffany.

He blinks away the tears that threaten to form behind his eyes and whispers your name. “Thank you, sweetheart. I - I used to have a hat just like this.”

When he looks back at you your brows are furrowed together, a genuine curiosity across your face. “Used to?”

He clears his throat again, “Yea, it’s complicated, but this - this means more to me than you could ever know.”

He slips his hands into the box, the felt of the brim spreads a warm comfort up his hands and forearms. He swallows hard as he realizes it’s the same comfort he feels when he has you in his arms.

Oh my god…I think, no, I know. I love you.

It hits him so hard that he has to clutch the hat tighter in his hands to ground himself as he pulls it from the box. He knew he was falling, he knew the second he saw you. He can’t push it down anymore.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”

He turns the hat over in his hands, the black satin liner exactly like his old one. He looks up at you, no longer able to stop the smile or the tears that flood his lash line. Your lips part as your eyes dance around his.

“No, baby, you didn’t. I’ve, well, I’ve been really missing this hat lately.”

“You gonna try it on, cowboy?” The sultry flirtiness of your voice feels sweet on his skin and after a shallow breath he brings the hat up to his head. As the satin slips over his hair a calm confidence washes over him. His eyes meet yours and your flirty smile turns shy as you blush under his gaze. He’s whole again.

“So?”

“I’m gonna have to fight the women off, I think.” You say softly.

He laughs, moving the box from your hands back to the table and then cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll only be looking at one woman, my sweet girl.” His lips meet yours gently, your tongue swiping softly against his lip as your slant into the kiss.

I love you.

You

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel giving him the hat, but his eyes welling up and his breathing getting all shaky was not what you expected. Something about that hat called to you when you saw it. When you picked it up, the soft felt against your palms reminded you of how it feels to be in Joel’s hands.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh and glances around your apartment. Months ago you would have felt shy or self conscious about Joel in your space, so wholly different from his, but he has never judged you for anything, and you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with him which is not a feeling you’re used to. His eyes fall to the scratched wooden coffee table that you got for free from Craigslist.

“You have college letters,” he says proudly, looking back at you.

Your arms cross across your body subconsciously, like they’re trying to shield you from the possibility of being rejected again. “Ya, the last two came today. I’ll open them later.”

“Baby, let's open them! It could be good news.”

He looks so goddamn handsome, in a suit that probably costs more than the entire contents of your apartment and his new black Stetson hat. His expression is encouraging, that same look from his kitchen when you ate some toast; prideful and empathetic.

“I’m scared,” you almost blurt, wishing you could be smoother with this man. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. If these are both no’s, I don’t know how great of company I’ll be tonight.”

“Freckles, I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. But I think you’ll be thinking of the letters either way.”

“Ah, my consent stands even for mail,” you joke.

“Well, it's a federal offense to open someone else's mail so…” Joel winks and flashes a devastating smile your way.

“Ok,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s right, you’ll be wondering all night what those letters say, and Joel has a way of making you forget, making you feel understood, important and cared for. “Do it.”

As if he’s a child on Christmas morning and you just gave him the ok, he snatches up the University of Austin and Berkeley letters, almost vibrating as he says, “Which one first?”

You start to pace the few steps of your living room, wringing your hands together as your heels click on the cheap laminate hardwood. “Austin, I’ll be less upset by a no from them.”

The tear of the envelope sounds like a dagger to the ribs as you go to grab the flowers Joel brought for you, desperate for something to do besides stand there.

“It’s a thick envelope..” Joel says as he slides the letter out.

“Ya, I’ve learned that that doesn’t mean shit,” You say sardonically.

Joel laughs in surprise, “Always shocks me to hear that pretty little mouth swear.”

“Yea?” You ask, “Open the fucking letter, you’re killing me.”

Joel snorts as his strong fingers gingerly fold open the letter. His eyes shoot to yours, “You got in!”

“W-What?” You drop the flowers on the counter top and cover your mouth.

“Sweet girl, you got in. I’m - I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You stand frozen on the spot. It’s not the school you wanted, you want Berkeley, but it doesn’t matter what that letter says now, because either way, you’re going to be a lawyer.

“Oh my god,” you breathe as Joel's arms pull you in for a tight hug.

“Congratulations, baby girl.” His lips press to hair and you start to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

You both part from the hug as you fight to stop tears of pure joy from ruining your makeup. “It’s just…you know, for a second there I actually thought that I wasn’t smart enough. Me? I have a 4.0, I graduated early, I’ve been top of my class for years and I actually thought that I wouldn’t get in.”

Joel's eyes dance, a big smile across his face as he watches you fill a vase. “Open the other one.”

He keeps his eyes on you as he opens the next letter. As he folds open the thick eggshell coloured paper you plunge the flowers into the cold water, his face drops and you prepare yourself for the worst, “You got in. Baby, you - you got in.”

You - Four Years Prior

“So what? You think that getting into your fancy university in Texas means you can just leave Arizona whenever you please? Your mom needs you, you can’t just leave.” Your dad is in his patchwork recliner, a beer in his hand despite it being nine in the morning. The hot June morning heating the small house to an uncomfortable stifle.

“I’ve contributed as much as I can, dad. Two months from now I’m not going to have any time to myself. I deserve some time doing what I want.”

Your dad snorts, legs slamming the leg rest down on the recliner. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?”

That should sting, it would to anyone else, but you’ve been called every name possible by your father. You see him now for what he truly is, a loser. He can’t hold a job, hasn’t been able to for years. When you were younger, you thought you were the apple of his eye. He’d show up to every school function, every award ceremony, all the little things. You were eight when you realized he didn’t even speak to you at those functions, just walked around bragging about how he was the reason you’ve achieved whatever you were being celebrated over. It was his time to shine, his award, not yours.

“I’m going,” you say, hoisting your duffle bag of clothing over your shoulder. You’ve always wanted to go back to California. You went once with your mother when you were nine or ten, and the minute you got to the beach and felt the warm sand between your toes everything went quiet. It’s called out to you ever since.

As you spin towards the front door you hear the groan of your dad standing up. Fear spikes in your veins, your heart slamming in your ribs. He’s never hit you, but with the redness of his face as he called you names this morning you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Like fuck you are!” He bellows as a hard object strikes the back of your head, followed by warm liquid soaking through the back of your t-shirt.

One of your hands cups the back of your head as you bolt towards your recently purchased, and slightly rusted, SUV. “Get back in here right now you little cunt! You stole money from me for that vehicle, didn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh as you get in the front seat. You don’t bother locking the doors, you know he’s barely out the front door without looking. He’s not strong enough, and definitely too drunk, to overpower you. You throw the vehicle into reverse and yell out the window, “You don’t have any money for me to steal, Doug!”

You hit his first name hard, knowing damn well how much it will enrage him. You drive away without looking back, and you only stop once for gas for the next ten hours.

The sun is setting as you reach the motel in Newport Beach. You head straight for the beach, kicking off your sandals and letting your feet sink into the cool sand. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, “Mom” across the screen in bold letters.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, still feeling like a child even though you aren’t.

“Get our ass home, right fucking now. You’re supposed to be contributing to this family and somehow you had enough money to buy a car? And a trip to California? Mark my words, young lady. If you don’t walk back through that door by this time tomorrow, I will come there and get you myself!”

A lump forms in your throat. You’ve spent your whole childhood trying to get them to see you. Contributing? None of your friends had to contribute, they all got to be kids. You’re going to be making a lot of money as a lawyer one day, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they’re getting a single penny of that money.

“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, mother.”

“You’re in for a rude fucking awakening, little girl. Just because you were the smartest person here, does not mean you’ll be the smartest person anywhere else. The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, and your father and I will not be here to fix you.”

“I don’t see how that’s any different than now. Good bye.”

You hang up before she can respond and look out over the water. The sun is setting in a kaleidoscope of peaches, marigolds and lavenders. You block your parents' numbers before snapping a picture of the sunset and setting it as your background. A sense of calm washes over you as the waves crash along the shore. You walk towards the water and dip your feet in, the water washing away the last eighteen years of your life. You’re free.

You - Present Day

A whispered ‘holy shit’ is all you can muster as realization washes over you. Your dream school - and you got in. You can go to the beach and listen to the ocean, feel the sand under your feet. You can feel as free as you did almost four years ago. You lock eyes with Joel. Can you really leave him?

“I can’t believe I got in. To two schools. I’m going to be a lawyer.” Excitement floods your body. You can worry about deciding later, even though deep down you already know what you're going to choose. Right now, you can just be happy and proud. He reaches a hand out to you and you step into the living room to take it. He pulls you in, wrapping you in his strong arms.

“I know I said this already, but I am so god damn proud of you, sweet girl. No one deserves this more than you. I want to celebrate this with you soon, please?”

“Well,” you say with a hint of mischief, pulling back to look at him, “We are going to be at the club.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve never seen before. “Ya - the club.”

“Oh my god. We’re late, Joel!” You push out of his hold. This is his big night, his five year anniversary of owning his club.

“Baby, stop,” he pulls you into his arms again and cups your face. “I don’t care. Just let me kiss you until you need to reapply that lipstick, and then we can go.” His lips crash passionately into yours. “I’m so fucking proud of you, sweet girl,” he gasps between kisses.

Joel wasn’t lying. He really did kiss you until your lips were swollen and you had to touch up not only your lipstick but the bit of highlighter on your nose; he also needed to participate, taking one of your makeup wipes to his nose, chin and lips before opening the door to his Jag for you and speeding off to the club.

Upon entering the club, the two of you were separated almost immediately. Joel was whisked away to the stage where he, Tommy and who you assume is Tess are now. The stage is lit up as he gives a speech and thanks everyone. A glass of champagne is handed to you as you stand along the edge of the bar. Everyone claps and as he tries to make his way back to you is pulled into a handshake from a very wealthy looking older man. You smile into your glass of expensive pink champagne as the woman from the stage approaches you.

“Hi! I’m sorry for having to steal him the moment you two walked in.” She extends a perfectly manicured hand out to you. “I’m Tess.”

You go to introduce yourself and she cuts you off as she continues. “Oh, I know who you are. Joel will probably kill me, but we have all been very interested to meet you.”

“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.

She shrugs. “No one has ever seen him this, hmm, this relaxed before. He’s usually here or across the street barking orders. You don’t become as successful as him without a little stress, but since you came along he seems different. Happy.”

You blush, watching him engrossed in a new conversation, his eyes often meeting yours across the room. “Look,” Tess says, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I hang around the Millers way too often and I could really use some girl talk. Is that ok?”

“Tess, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s girl talk.” You smile at her and then turn to the bartender. “Two tequila shots, please!”

She takes a breath, looking at Joel and then back at you. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where Joel wore a black cowboy hat again.”

You raise an eyebrow at Tess, this could be your chance to get an explanation around his response. You know you weren’t imagining his eyes getting glassy, and he did say it means more to him than he could ever tell you. “I got him that hat.”

Tess’s jaw drops and panic rises in your chest. “What? Why? What’s wrong with the hat?”

“Tequila first,” she says as the shots slide across the shiny black marble bar top. A shiver racks through Tess after she swallows, you don’t flinch. “I don’t know if it’s my place…”

“It’s girl talk, he’ll never know.” You state, sucking at the lime. Tess clears her throat and motions to the bartender for another round. The next time she speaks it’s a hushed, sad voice, just barely above a whisper.

“He, umm - well, he had a hat just like that growing up. Wore it all the time actually. He had it on the night he met Tiffany, and pretty much every important day in his life since then. Their first date, their wedding. Shit, I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Sarah as a newborn in that hat. He also wore it the last time he held her.” Her voice trails off and heartbreak for her friend lines her features. “He…she loved it so much that he sent it with her.”

You swallow hard and glance past Tess’s shoulder to Joel across the club. The moments of time between each of your heartbeats are filled by memories of his reaction. Tess continues, “Look, maybe you're like Joel. Maybe you don’t believe in astronomy or signs from the universe, but I don’t think you finding that hat was a coincidence.”

You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him.

All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right?

“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.

“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.

“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier.

She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.

“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”

“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.

You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.

“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”

Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”

The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you.

“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”

You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”

She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.

When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”

“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings.

Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”

His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now?

Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?

Joel

I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music.

Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers.

I love you.

Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder.

I fucking love you.

You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him.

“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.

He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”

“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.

“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.

“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”

“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”

You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”

One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song.

A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart.

You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”

At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.

“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.

The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”

“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”

Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.

“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”

You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”

“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?”

“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”

“What?”

“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”

You

“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.

Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”

That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.

The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.”

Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”

He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore.

You’re falling in love with Joel Miller.

“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.

Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over.

The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it.

Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”

“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”

He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.”

The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage.

“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.

“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.

“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”

You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”

The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage.

“He’s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar.

“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.

You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.

His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?”

God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”

You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”

Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage.

He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with.

Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.

He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”

His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar.

If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself

His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.

Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords.

Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore

You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel.

Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?

The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.

All the complexities and games No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on

You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.

When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us

This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.

And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest

You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’

All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.

‘Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.

So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay

‘I’m here for you’.

No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone

You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.

And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me

You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing.

You and me It’s just, you and me

You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”

Joel

The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.

He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women.

You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?”

He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.”

He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.

No, I just love her.

He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you.

His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”

You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints.

As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”

He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.

The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”

It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit.

A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once.

“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”

You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.

A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”

You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.

“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”

He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”

Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane.

His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him.

He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.

You

The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”

What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him.

“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’

His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties.

The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you.

“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.

He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”

His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”

The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him.

“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.

He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you.

The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady.

“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.

“Take me to the club.”

“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours.

“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”

“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”

Joel

This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are.

“I can take you home if you want.”

“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.

Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”

He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.

He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.

“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.

“What do you need?”

You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”

I love you.

He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.

“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.

You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”

He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?”

You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”

“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.

“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office.

“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused.

“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.

When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful.

I love you.

You

Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side.

“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.

“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull.

“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.”

He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright.

If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego.

Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet.

You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”

You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?”

You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.”

You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.

“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn’t you sweet girl?”

You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.”

He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him.

He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours.

“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy.

Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants.

As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric.

“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!”

He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.”

The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.”

For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently.

“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.”

You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.

“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back.

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”

You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.

He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.

“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”

You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him.

“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says, “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”

“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.

“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”

This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you.

“Is this ok?” He whispers.

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips.

“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”

Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.

His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”.

You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now.

“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does.

His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.

“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”

“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.”

“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.

Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers.

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.

Joel

He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach.

“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece.

More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.

Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”

He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen.

He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”

He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel.

I love you.

Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”

“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat.

He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”

“Again,” he growls.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.

He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you.

He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.

Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.”

He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling.

“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip.

“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you.

The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.

There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way.

Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl.

“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips.

His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”

Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”

He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk.

“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.

“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…”

His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating.

“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.

“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved.

The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you.

He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses.

“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.”

“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask.

“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.”

“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”

“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”

The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now.

“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”

Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”

Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep.

His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”

Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”

Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”

“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed.

He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”

You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”

“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”

“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his.

There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”

Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany.

“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”

“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”

490 notes · View notes

thewritingrowlet · 1 day ago

Text

The Office Romance pt. 2, ft. tripleS Seoyeon

tags: creampie, anal, blowjob, food play, rough, daddy kink

length: almost 10k

author's note: I remember you guys liked the first Seoyeon anal fic, so here's another one—enjoy!

“Ngh, ngh—oh, fuck!”

Only these sounds escape Seoyeon’s lips as she tries to cope with your cock that’s invading her ass. You’re no better, though; despite being able to speak coherently, the words that come out of your lips are dirty to say the least.

“Oh, fuck, how are you always so tight, baby? You’re so fucking amazing.”

Seoyeon lifts her face off the pillow momentarily. “P-please cum; I-I can’t take much of this anymore,” she begs. It was her idea to do anal this midnight��after your previous load went into her pussy—and you’re simply playing along, but now that she’s visibly uncomfortable, you don’t feel like continuing.

You slowly pull your cock out of her rear and flip her onto her back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby,” you wipe some tears off her plump cheeks. “It was so painful, wasn’t it?” Seoyeon nods. “I-I thought I would’ve been able to handle it, but apparently not.” You pull her into an embrace after lying down next to her. “I’m very happy that you’re putting my pleasure as one of your top priorities, but at the same time, I wish you wouldn’t force yourself like this next time.” Seoyeon pecks you on the lips. “It’s because you matter the most to me, oppa.” “I know, baby, and you matter the most to me,” you say, “but let’s not do it like this again.”

The two of you didn’t shower after the first sex session a few hours ago, and you think that now is a good time for it. “Let’s get some shower, baby, and then we can get some proper rest.” “I’ll need your help for that, oppa.” You take your turn to peck her on the lips. “Gladly, baby.”

“Hi! Hello!” Dayeon, who happens to be at the lobby, greets you and Seoyeon. She isn’t in the best mood today—you have a few clues as to why—so you’re reluctant to greet Dayeon back with the same energy, because the last thing you want is for Seoyeon to think that you’re too excited to see Dayeon. Seoyeon, however, suddenly picks up her steps, thus leaving you and Dayeon behind.

“Oh.” Dayeon’s smile disappears as she watches her leave. “Is she okay?” You tell her that Seoyeon didn’t have much sleep last night, hence the crankiness, and apologize on her behalf. “I guess I’m not coming to your place tomorrow, then.” You shake your head. “I mean, the idea wasn’t even mine.”

After parting ways with Dayeon, you rush towards the elevator to chase your girlfriend. “There you are.” You approach the grumpy beauty who’s sitting at her desk. “Are you okay, baby? Can I help with anything?” Seoyeon starts crying, taking you by surprise. “I-I’m so tired, oppa, a-and here you are, flirting with another girl.” You want to hug her and assure her that you weren’t even close to flirting with Dayeon, but there’s a CCTV in this area. “Follow me, please,” you tilt your head towards the door to your office, and thankfully, Seoyeon does follow you.

After closing the door behind her, you pull her into a tight hug. “Baby, I wasn’t flirting with her; I was just saying hi because she said hi first.” “I know,” Seoyeon sighs, “I’m sorry, oppa; I don’t know why I’m so sensitive today.” You gently run a hand on the back of her head. “You’re just drained, baby—maybe we shouldn’t push too much to have sex from now on.” Your girlfriend presses her face on your chest. “I just wanted to please you, oppa,” she reasons. “I know, baby, and I thank you for that, but if having sex denies you some much-needed rest, then what’s the point?” Seoyeon pulls away from the hug, wiping her eyes as she does. “I’m going to cry until my eyes are dry if we keep hugging—I’ll start working now.” Before you let her go, you come in for a quick kiss. “I love you, baby.” “I love you too, oppa.”

You go to sit at your desk and see that your computer is already on, and there’s a note stuck on the bezel of your monitor that says, “lunch w/ me @ Tonkatsu Theater.” “Oh, you want to get lunch with me, baby? That’s very cute.”

You arrive at Tonkatsu Theater with Seoyeon at around 1 p.m. “Oh, it’s not that packed,” you comment. “Wouldn’t matter if it did; I’ve booked a table for us.” “You have? When?” “This morning, on our way to the office.”

“A reservation for Yoon Seoyeon, please,” Seoyeon says to one of the staffs, who then asks the two of you to follow him towards the reserved private dining area. “Two tonkatsu, one onion rings, one iced tea with no sugar, and one orange juice, please.” Look, she even orders for you. You wait until the staff leaves before reaching for her hands. “This should’ve been my job, but thank you, baby.” A smile gradually forms on her face, a perfect fit for the rest of her gorgeous features. “Of course, oppa,” she replies, her cheeks pink. “You’re paying for the food, though.” You let out a chuckle that’s louder than intended. “Of course, baby.”

The food arrives at your table not long after you’re seated, which is great; you skipped breakfast this morning because you were running late, so you’re starving right now. Seoyeon slams her hands on the table, a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. “Doesn’t this look amazing?" You nod enthusiastically. “It sure does,” you pick up your utensils, “shall we?”

Seoyeon sinks in her seat after the first bite. “Oh, my—oh my God,” she speaks despite the full mouth, “one bite is all it takes to fall in love.” You see an opportunity to make a joke. “The same way it took you one kiss to fall in love with me?” Seoyeon covers her mouth as she tries her hardest to not laugh and spit everywhere. When the amusement dies down, she kicks you under the table. “Oh my God, stoooop—just eat, oppa, why are you teasing me?” You pinch her round cheeks lightly. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you weren’t amused.”

You summon Dayeon to your office with around an hour left in the workday to talk about some debut-related stuff with her and Seoyeon.

“Hi, hi,” Dayeon enters your office with a smile, and you replicate that smile for her. “So, what’s so important?” “I’ll get straight to the point,” you say, “I’m thinking about debuting all seven of them.” She looks at you with this neutral face that you’re not sure what the meaning is. “Is that so?” You nod. “I’m curious about what you think since you’ve spent some time getting familiar with them.” Dayeon sighs. “Soobin-ie needs some more training.” “I mean, we still have time until January at most,” you reason. “Okay,” she says, “then in that case, I want to be more hands-on with Soobin-ie—don’t worry, I’ll make sure I don’t offend the instructors.“ “Yeah, go ahead,” you show her the green light.

“Is that it, or?” You shake your head. “One more thing, actually,” you change the subject, “you were an idol at some point in your life; how was mental health support when you were active?” You can see joy gradually disappearing from her features. “It didn’t exist,” she sighs, “I had to rely on the older members for that, and it goes without saying that they had their own things to worry about.”

You grab some origami papers of different colors that you’ve cut into credit card-sized rectangles. “Seoyeon-ie suggested that we give out these cards to the girls, and whenever they want to talk, they can just show me or anyone at the company one of these things.” “What are the different colors for?” “I know that green is for when they want to talk about work stuff, but I don’t know about red and orange yet.” Dayeon looks at Seoyeon momentarily before turning her focus back to you. “Orange should be for when they want to talk to a psychologist or the sort, and red is for girls’ stuff.” You ask her to elaborate, so she does. “I don’t know, I was thinking that maybe Seoyeon-ie could be their older sister at work, but I think she already has so much in her hands.”

You ask Seoyeon what she thinks about Dayeon’s idea. “I mean, if you can take off some work load off me, then I’ll gladly take on a closer role with the girls,” Seoyeon says. You rub your chin as you think about it; the things you usually assign to Seoyeon are those that you really need help with, so it’s not like you’re slacking off and delegating things to others just because you can, but at the same time, if she can become that person the girls can rely on, it’d be so helpful for them. “We’ll think about it, okay?”

You’re promptly reminded that debuting all seven trainees would mean that you’ll need to find a new living space to properly accommodate them, which you don’t have references for just yet—three of the seven trainees live with their parents, so at the moment, you only need to house the remaining four.

“Dayeon-ah, find some apartments that can fit seven of them comfortably, please?” “Yeah, sure,” she says, “anything else?” “No, that’s it.” Dayeon nods and writes down her new assignment on her phone. “I’ll get to it; give me a day or two,” she says. “Alright, you may go, then.”

You expect her to just turn around and walk out, but no, she bends over your desk and gives you a peck on the lips. “Uhh,” you’re getting nervous, “thanks, I guess?” “Don’t be mad, Seoyeon-ah,” she says, “see you two around!”

You’re still silent even after Dayeon has left your office. You’re snapped out of your trance when you hear a chuckle from Seoyeon. “What are you so stunned for, oppa—you’ve never gotten a kiss from a girl before?” “I didn’t expect her to be so brazen considering that you’re here.” Your girlfriend places her palms on your cheeks. “Something tells me that I don’t have to worry about her,” she says, rubbing your cheeks softly as she does, “I know who I am in your eyes.” “I love you,” you say, earning a cute smile from Seoyeon. “I love you too, oppa.”

You keep an eye on her as she walks away from your desk and out of your office. This morning, she cried because she thought that you were flirting with Dayeon (even though it was a simple, friendly greeting), and about a workday later, Seoyeon said with confidence that she knew her worth in your eyes.

You shake your head to clear your mind. The workday is done and it’s time to go home with Seoyeon.

At least that was the plan, because when you leave your office, you see Jihyun sitting on the other side of Seoyeon’s desk, seemingly sad about something.

“Are you okay, Miss Seo?” Jihyun bites her lip nervously before answering you. “Erm, i-it’s about Sunbin-ie,” she says vaguely. “What about her?” “S-she sprained her ankle just now, a-and I thought I should tell you and Miss Yoon.” You sigh and rub your forehead at the same time. What’s with Sunbin and hurting her legs, man—first it was her calf, and now it’s her ankle. “Where is she now, Jihyun-ah?” “S-still in the practice room, sir, i-if you’d follow me.”

As you and Seoyeon are following Jihyun to the practice room, you nudge her. “Try holding her hand, babe,” you whisper. Seoyeon does as you ask and takes Jihyun’s hand in hers, and Jihyun is visibly surprised. “You’re alright, Jihyun-ah,” she says, “from now on, I’ll be your older sister that you can rely on." Jihyun isn’t quite sure of what to make of the words, but based on her nods, you guess that she likes the idea.

“Girls, the bosses are here,” Jihyun announces your and Seoyeon’s presence as the three of you enter the practice room. You see the girls standing around a seated person who you assume is Sunbin, circling her and thus blocking your view. One of them suddenly turns around, and— “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Sunwoo starts singing the song while clapping her hands to the rhythm, followed by the other trainees, and you promptly look at your watch: it is the 6th of November, which is your birthday—if it wasn’t for these girls, you wouldn’t have remembered.

It is when the girls peel away from the circle that you see the white birthday cake (that has some text written in red-colored buttercream on it) in Sunbin’s hands. “Oh my God,” you palm your forehead, “so this was a ploy?” Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours and drags you closer to the cake. “Happy birthday, boss!” You’re highly amused by the surprise. “Thank you, everyone,” you say.

You and Seoyeon sit on the floor with the girls, the cake sitting in the middle like a bonfire. “He doesn’t celebrate his birthday, guys,” Seoyeon says, “it’s only my birthday he celebrates.” Soobin asks why, so you simply say that your family doesn’t really celebrate anyone’s birthday regularly. “Wait,” Soobin says, “did you say he only celebrates your birthday, Miss Yoon?” Seoyeon’s cheeks turn bright red. “Y-yes,” she says, covering her cheeks with her palms, “h-he’s my boyfriend, if you didn’t know already.” Based on the girls’ expressions, you guess that they didn’t know about it.

It is time to address something important: how did they know that it’s your birthday? “Well, I asked Miss Kim—Kim Dayeon, that is,” Sihyeon says, “and now we know everyone’s birthdays.” You shake your head. “So let me ask again, Sunbin-ie didn’t hurt her ankles?” Everyone bursts out laughing. “No, no, no—we just had Jihyun-ie act stressed and sad so that she could get your attention. “Well, dang,” you say, “maybe we should consider giving Jihyun-ie some acting lessons.”

Sunbin pulls out a plastic knife from her back pocket and cuts the cake into 8 parts. “You and Miss Yoon should share, boss,” Sunbin says. Daeun passes a slice over to you along with a spoon. “Choo, choo, baby.” You guide a spoonful of cake towards Seoyeon’s mouth, and with red cheeks, she takes it in her mouth. “Oooooh,” the trainees collectively react, as if sharing the same brain cells. Seoyeon shakes her head as she chews her mouthful. “Alright, alright,” you try saving your girlfriend from further embarrassment, “let’s eat, girls!”

It doesn’t take long for people to finish their slices—Hyeonju even finishes hers in 3 mouthfuls. “Miss Park and Miss Jeon, get some water for us, please.” Soobin and Sunbin do as you ask and grab some bottles of water. “Alright, so,” you start a new topic, “I think this is a good opportunity to talk.” The trainees look at you both in confusion and nervousness. “Oh, don’t worry; it’s nothing to be concerned about—if anything, I think you should be excited about this.”

You briefly explain to the trainees how you’re planning to implement a system where each of them can request an audience with anyone in the company for anything they want to address, from work-related things to personal ones. “A part of the plan is to have Miss Yoon over here to take on a role as your, erm, older sister, I guess.” The seven trainees look at you and Seoyeon in silence, probably processing what this could mean for them. “Look,” you pile on, “I want to provide clear communication channels between us because each of you matters a lot for us.” “And how do you plan on doing that, sir?” “I have some cards of different colors upstairs, and the idea is that different colors represent different purposes; show it to anyone and they’ll take care of you accordingly, from the trainers to the psychiatrist.”

“I like that,” Sunwoo is the first to break the silence, “I think I like that idea, boss.” A smile appears on your face, pushing tenseness away in the process. “Thank you, Miss Jung—anyone else?” Sihyeon asks if seeing the psychiatrist would require them to pay. “No, the company will pay for it, because we’ll be hiring professionals for this.” “Wait, hold on,” Sunwoo speaks again, “please promise us that this system is long-term.” You nod. “As long as me and Miss Yoon are here, it won’t go away.”

“Guys,” Seoyeon takes the baton from you, “please let us know what you think.” Park Soobin, who happens to sit right next to her, hugs her from the side. “Unnie,” she says softly, “I love you, my unnie.” Seoyeon replicates the gesture, beaming as she does. “I love you too, Soobin-ah; talk to me often, ‘kay? I promise I’ll make time for you.”

You step away from the circle to give space, and the girls immediately hug Seoyeon from all directions as a group. You find yourself beaming and your heart is full of warmth because of the sight in front of you. “I’m glad everyone is on board with the idea.” “Can we call you oppa, then?” Jihyun’s question makes you laugh. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with it, then sure.”

The trainees take their previous sitting positions in the circle, thus allowing you to rejoin. “Oh, I just remembered,” you say, “we’re also planning on giving you guys some vacation, since your instructors are going to take some PTO next week.” Some cheer while some others don’t really show excitement. You ask those who aren’t as ecstatic if they’re okay, and they say different reasons as to why they’re not excited: Daeun doesn’t feel like seeing her parents (she doesn’t have the best relationship with them), Hyeonju wants to see her parents but doesn’t have money for transport (that can be fixed easily), and finally, Soobin says she wants to practice more.

“Work will always be there, Soobin-ah,” you say, “don’t you want to take a breather for a moment?” Soobin’s teary gaze strays away from yours. “I think I’m still lacking, sir, and since only 5 of us will debut, I-I need to pick it up.” You notice that Seoyeon is deeply looking at you, and you wonder if this is a good opportunity to reveal the plan of debuting all of them.

A part of you wants to provide comfort for Soobin, but at the same time, it’s too risky to open the card now. “Alright, okay,” you say, “Miss Kim said earlier that she wanted to be more hands-on with your training, so I’m going to entrust you to her.” “Y-yes, sir; I-I will work hard.”

The general mood is declining, and it makes you think that it’s time to wrap it up. “Alright, let’s go home, everyone.” Before leaving with you, Seoyeon makes the time to hug each trainee, offering comfort and kindness to them. “We will see you soon—good evening, everyone.”

As soon as you get in the car with Seoyeon, she confronts you. “Why didn’t you say that all of them will debut?” “I wanted to, but I felt like it was too risky.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment. “They needed comfort, oppa, but you failed to provide them with it—this is their future more than it is ours.” You sigh. “I’m sorry,” you say, “should we tell them now, then?” “No, it’d be embarrassing to go back in there, but you need to tell them soon.”

“I’m going to shower first; feel free to do whatever.” Seoyeon beelines towards the bathroom without bothering to shed some clothes off first. “Sure, baby.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling very uneasy about the attitude that your girlfriend is showing you. At the same time, however, this wouldn’t have happened had you told the trainees that all of them will debut in January. “It’s fine—this is fine,” you say to yourself, “Soobin-ie still needs to practice more anyway.”

While you wait for Seoyeon to finish showering, you get rid of your work clothes in favor of some more comfortable T-shirt and shorts. “Oppa!” You faintly hear her calling to you from the bathroom. “One second!” You jog a little towards her and see that the bathroom door is slightly open. “Yes, baby?” “Can you grab me some pajamas?” “Sure.”

After grabbing a set of pink pajamas from the wardrobe, you make your way back to the bathroom. “Baby, I’m putting it on the mat, okay?” You see the door swinging open, revealing your drenched, naked girlfriend. “Come here,” she says. Your eyes run up and down her body as you think about the situation—oh, wait, she just shaved. “Erm, sure.”

You stay silent as Seoyeon undresses you, cooperating here and there where you see fit. “Oppa,” she snatches your attention, “listen to me, please.” Your gaze moves to meet hers. “First of all, happy birthday,” she begins, “I didn’t forget it, just so we’re clear, but I didn’t have time to get you a present, so I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Having you by my side is far better than any present.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily to hide her red cheeks.

“Anyway,” she clears her throat before continuing, “I want to apologize, oppa; I, erm, wasn’t so kind with you this past hour.” You shake your head again. “I understand where you were coming from—actually, I was about to ask you if I should come to their practice tomorrow and announce the plan.” “We can if you want to,” she says, and you simply nod in response.

“Hey, so, erm” you change the subject, “why am I here?” Seoyeon chuckles. “Well, I wanted to suck you—y’know, to celebrate your birthday and all that.” Your lips are shut, but your cock does the talking, getting hard at the prospect of getting a blowjob. “Take a seat somewhere, oppa.” You look for spots in the bathroom and decide that you’ll take the toilet. “I’m ready when you are, baby.”

The way Seoyeon’s hips sway as she’s making her way towards you combined with the sight of her shaved crotch makes you drool. The sight is replaced when she kneels between your legs, her eyes locked on your erect shaft. “Happy birthday, oppa.” “Thank you, love,” you place a hand on the side of her face, “thank you for being here.” Seoyeon, not in the correct position to peck you on the lips, gives you a peck on the tip of your cock.

You gasp when the first few centimeters of your cock enters her mouth. Seoyeon wastes little time and immediately begins bobbing her head along your shaft. “Oh my God, baby,” you say breathily, “you’re always so damn good at this.” Enthused by your praise, Seoyeon plants her hands on your thighs so that she can be stable while sucking your cock fast and deep. Her wet hair sticks on different parts of her face, and you take it as your job to tidy it up as much as you can.

“Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that,” you comment when you feel her tongue running on the underside of your shaft. Your cock leaves her lips with a pop. “No, no, no, you can only bust here,” she points at her crotch, “I didn’t shave just for you to cum in my mouth.” You wipe some drool off the edges of your lips. “Okay,” you say, “are we doing it here, then?” Seoyeon looks around the bathroom. “Yeah, let’s do it here; it’s easier for us to clean up after.” “I’m ready when you are, baby.”

You expect Seoyeon to impale herself on your cock, but she doesn’t—she just stands in front of you with her hands on your shoulders. “Are you okay, baby?” She sighs. “I, erm, don’t feel the usual emotions.” You show her a gentle smile. “Is that so, my love?” The endearment makes her blush a little. “If you keep calling me that, though...”

You lift your butt off the toilet, thus towering over her like you usually do. “Love, listen, please,” you rub her cheek gently, “I love you so, so, so much, and I’m thankful for you.” Seoyeon’s big eyes are locked on yours, and her lips are shut tight, waiting for you to pile on. “That said, my love, I apologize for all my shortcomings; I promise I will work on becoming the best person you want to spend your life with.”

“You know I hate empty promises, right, oppa?” You nod. “I do, and I hate them as much as you do, love.” “So, how are you going to show your commitment to fulfill that promise, oppa?” Her question stumps you; how are you going to show your commitment is indeed a very good and valid question. “I-I don’t know.” This cluelessness makes you want to cry—you really want to give her a good answer, but no matter how hard you’re cranking the gears in your head, you just can’t come up with one. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what to say.”

Seoyeon takes her turn to rub your cheek with her gentle hand. “You don’t have to answer with your words, oppa—actions speak louder anyway.” The embarrassment in your head leads to you dropping your chin, but Seoyeon lifts it up again, thus making you look at her again. “Hey, now,” her voice is very soft, “get yourself together, oppa; I still love you, y’know.” You take a deep breath. “Sorry, love—you brought me here to have sex, and what you’re getting is a mess.” “Let me fix that mess, oppa.”

Seoyeon gets on her tippy toes and places her lips on yours, and with every second passing, you can feel that things are getting clearer for you to see; Seoyeon is here to stay and watch you grow as a man in this relationship with her unwavering patience and warm love. “I love you, oppa,” her soft voice warms your heart, “and trust me when I say that it’s not an empty sentence.” You smile. “I love you more, love—I haven’t the slightest of doubt in my head about us.” Seoyeon smiles sweetly. “I think we’re ready to have sex now.” “We are,” you agree with her, “but I don’t want to do it here.”

You step away from your girlfriend to grab a towel and use it to wipe water off her body. “Sex in the bathroom doesn’t feel appropriate for us right now, don’t you think?” Seoyeon hums in agreement. Once she’s dry enough to not wet the bed, you lift her by her thighs and carry her to the bedroom, exchanging pecks on the way there.

“I take it we’ll be doing vanilla?” “I mean, we have some chocolate in the fridge if you want to spice it up.” Seoyeon laughs. “No, no, no—we didn’t build up all those emotions just to be, uh, naughty.” You take a seat on the edge of the bed with her still on your lap. “Maybe next time, then?” She sticks her tongue out slightly, seemingly full of ideas for “next time.” “We can go crazy next time, oppa, but let’s worry about that next time.”

You fall backwards onto the bed, thus making Seoyeon take the top position. “Oh, I get to be on top?” You chuckle. “As if you’ve never been on top before.” You gasp when you feel her grabbing your cock and stroking it. “You know I like being on the bottom more, but I don’t mind riding this big dick of yours every now and then.”

You’re about to say something but got cut off when Seoyeon lets you in her tight and wet pussy. “Oh, yes, daddy,” she lets out a long moan at the first contact. “Vanilla, baby, remember?” She laughs a little. “Ah, of course—sorry, force of habit.”

She lies on your body, putting those soft tits of hers right on your chest. “Will you marry me one day, baby?” She gives you a peck on the lips. “I will marry you in this life, the next, and the one after.” “You think we’ll meet again in the next life?” She gives you another peck. “We belong to each other, oppa, and we’ll always find our way back, no matter the distance.”

You think that you’ve had enough conversation, so you push yourself upwards into her warm pussy to signal that you’re ready (if not eager) to begin, thus earning a soft moan from her. “You’re perfect for me, oppa, and I’m perfect for you—that Kim Dayeon girl can’t compete with me.” You pinch her cheek lightly. “Let’s not mention another name when we’re in bed like this, baby.” “S-sure.”

You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon does a full up-and-down move along your cock, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “Y-you’re doing that thing again, oppa,” she quips, “y-your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.” You let your eyelids close as they wish. “You’re amazing, that’s why.” You get a peck on the cheek from her. “I’m only like this for you, oppa; you make me want to give you the best all the time.” You don’t know how she’s able to speak these many words with your cock lodged deep in her pussy. “Uh-huh.”

Seoyeon wraps her arms tightly around your nape and begins moving her hips along your cock, moaning so damn freely as she does. “Oh, God, if only I could say how much I love you, oppa.” You shake your head. “Actions speak louder, remember?” “Y-yes, I remember, b-but still.”

You collect yourself and lift your body off the bed, and Seoyeon, as if able to read your mind, kisses you without being asked to. “I love you, baby—I love you so much, and I’ll make you mine forever one day.” “Let’s not worry about the future right now, oppa,” her whispered words hit you hard, “let’s think about the here and now.” You chuckle a little. “Sure, baby.”

You move closer towards the center of the bed and take the top position this time. “I want to mark you, baby.” Seoyeon tilts her head to expose your target. “Have at it, oppa.” Your lips promptly latch on the side of her neck, and once she starts moaning because of it, you start moving your hips back and forth to maximize stimulation. “Oh, yes, that’s it, oppa,” she expresses her approval of your actions, “keep going just like that, oppa.”

This relaxed pace works well for you; you don’t have to worry about busting early because of her tight grip and instead are able to really enjoy the sensations. That said, Seoyeon, as per usual, likely needs something more—

“Oppa, I-I’m getting close.”

Well, isn’t that great to hear; you were just about to ask her if she wanted something more to send her across the finish line, but she just announces that she’s about to cross that line.

“We’ll cum together, baby, ‘kay?” Seoyeon nods in response as her eyes are shut tight, unlike her lips where moans are escaping from, and the sight makes you smile. “You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you, baby?” “A s-sweet girl like me d-deserves a good guy.” You give her some fleeting kisses. “Am I not a good guy, baby?” Her lips form a small but precious smile. “Y-you’re the best, oppa.”

Your heart starts racing as orgasm makes its way closer to you. “B-baby,” your voice is heavy and breathy, “I-I’m about to—” “Yes, yes, give it all to me, oppa.” You tighten the embrace and pick up the pace of your hips a bit, chasing your orgasm with utmost eagerness. “Yes, just like that, oppa—oh, fuck, yes.” Seoyeon’s approval serves as fuel for your nearly exhausted body to keep pushing during this final short stretch.

With a deep grunt, you release a big, warm load into your girlfriend, thus earning a long moan from her. “I—oh, God,” you’re breathless, “I-I love you so much, baby.” Seoyeon’s body begins to tremble in your arms, a sign that confirms your success at the task. “H-hold me! Hold me, oppa!” You make sure your arms stay strong to hold her close, fighting off as much of the exhaustion as you can. “You’re fine, baby; I’m here for you—I’m always here for you, baby.”

It is only when Seoyeon calms down that you let go of the hug and move to lie next to her. “G-get me a pill, oppa.” You gather your strength and roll over to reach the bedside table to get the pill. You hand it over to your girlfriend along with a bottle that’s barely a quarter full. “O-one day, we won’t bother with this thing,” she says, “I-I swear to God, I’ll give you a child, oppa.” You pet her head softly. “One day, sweetie, okay?”

You and Seoyeon arrive at your company’s building in a fine and chill Saturday morning.

The two of you head straight to the practice room where you assume the trainees are, and true enough, everyone but Jihyun is present. “Where is Jihyun-ie?” “She went out to run earlier, but she should be here soon.” It’s an odd time to start getting nervous, and you try your hardest to shake it off. “Yeah, okay,” you take a seat on a nearby chair, “we’ll wait for her a bit.”

The 19-year-old trio of Hyeonju, Daeun, and Soobin are lying on the floor, train hugging from one end to the other. “Yah, Shin Daeun, stop moving, will you?” “Then hug me more tightly, dummy.” Hyeonju and Daeun have been close since middle school, which explains their best friend-like dynamics. “I don’t know how Jinhwan-ie can cuddle you through the night.”

Daeun glances at you nervously. “D-don’t say that out loud, Hyeonju-yah—the boss is right there.” You don’t recall including a “no dating” term in anyone’s contract. “Dating is completely fine, girls,” you interject. Daeun reaches behind and slaps Hyeonju on the thigh. “I hate you sometimes, Kim Hyeonju.”

Jihyun enters the room after a short while, panting heavily as she does. “Ah, hi,” she waves at you and Seoyeon, “good morning.” “Good morning to you too, sweetie,” Seoyeon replies, “how far did you run?” Jihyun looks at her smartwatch. “Uh, about 3 kilometers.” “Pace?” “Just around 7 minutes per kilometer.” Seoyeon claps her hands in praise. “Great job, Jihyun-ah.” “I would love to hug you, unnie, but I’m so sweaty.” Seoyeon takes off her cardigan and moves to hug Jihyun. “It’s fine, Jihyun-ah.” “You’re the best, unnie.”

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” you stand up from your chair, “I would like to announce some things, so gather around, please.” The trainees take their spots near you, and you feel as if you were a kindergarten teacher right now. “Let’s start with the big one,” you take a deep breath first, “all seven of you are debuting.” Your announcement is met with confused blinks. “Can someone say something, please?” “All of us are debuting, oppa?” Sunbin finally breaks the silence, and you nod in response, letting out a deep exhale in the process. “You heard me right.”

The trainees look at each other, seemingly excited at the prospect of debuting together. Jihyun suddenly stands up in front of the crowd. “That means no one is getting dropped, right?” She looks at you momentarily and looks at her fellow trainees. “C’mon, girls,” she tries firing up her colleagues, “the boss just confirmed that all of us are debuting, so let’s give this our all—we don’t want to disappoint oppa and unnie, do we?”

Sihyeon gets on her feet and walks towards you. “Oppa,” she says softly, “you’re not riling us up for nothing, are you?” You shake your head adamantly to show seriousness. “What would I gain from lying to you, Sihyeon-ah?” You’re taken aback when she suddenly hugs you. “I-I will work hard, oppa—you won’t regret this, I swear!” You pet her back gently. “I know, Miss Kang,” you say, “give this last part of training period your all, okay, and I promise we’ll do our part in return.”

Sihyeon lets go of the hug and changes her target to Seoyeon and in her arms Sihyeon’s wall crumbles, showing everyone present the vulnerability of her gentle heart. “I won’t let you down, unnie—I swear on everything I won’t let you down.” Seoyeon closes her eyes as she tries her hardest to stay solid for Sihyeon. “I know, I know,” she pets her back gently the same way you did, “and I’m certain you will make it to the big stage.”

You fish out a small handkerchief from your back pocket and hand it to Seoyeon, who then uses it to wipe Sihyeon’s tears. “Hey, hey, listen to me,” Seoyeon says, “we’ll be with you every step of the way, Sihyeon-ah, and whenever you’re worried about something, remember that you’re never alone.” Unable to answer, the crying girl resorts to nodding, and Seoyeon gives her one last pet on the back before letting go.

“Girls,” Seoyeon takes command despite her glassy eyes, “we believe in you, the same way you believed in us when we first took you in as trainees, so please, let’s work hard together and make this dream come true—am I understood?” “Yes, unnie!”

It is when you and Seoyeon reach the privacy of your office that she starts breaking down, no longer able to keep herself together. “I love them, oppa,” she begins, “I-I love them like an older sister.” You pull her into a hug and place a hand on the back of her head. “I know, sweetie, and I’m so glad that they have someone like you by their side.” Her wails become louder as her hands hang on to your hoodie tightly to keep you as close as possible. “I-I want a raise, oppa.” You burst out laughing. “Of course, sweetie; I’ll give you a raise soon, okay?”

You stay with Seoyeon until her benevolent heart calms down and her beautiful eyes stop letting out tears. “You’re such a kind person, aren’t you, love?” She lets out a whimper into your chest. “People love you for your kindness, love—you know that, right?” “Yes,” her voice is muffled by your body. You peck her on the top of her head once. “I will never let you go, love; my world would lose its light if you were to leave me.” “I-I won’t—" A sniffle interrupts her. “I won’t leave you forever, oppa.”

You walk backwards and drag her along towards your seat. “Let’s have a seat for a moment, ‘kay?” Your girlfriend nods into your chest, still not willing to look at you in the eyes. “You’re safe here, love; you’re safe with me.”

Seoyeon suddenly lifts her chin and meets your gaze with eyes that are red from the wave of tears. “I love you, oppa.” “Oh, baby,” you chuckle a little, “I love you so, so, so much, too.” “How much?” “I know you don’t like it when I say that I’d die for you, so instead, I’ll say that I love you so much that I want to be healthy all the time so that I can always be with you.” She beams in satisfaction. “Great answer, oppa.”

The bell to your office rings, and you expect Seoyeon to jump off your lap, but no, she still stays seated on you. “You can answer it, oppa.”

You press a button on your desk to unlock the door, and it swings open soon after, thus revealing Dayeon who is dressed in a dance practice attire. “Oh, am I interrupting?” You shake your head. “Can I help you?” “The girls told me about your plan to debut all of them.” “Are you here to share your opinion, then?” “Yes, kind of,” she says, “I think it was wise to tell them now; I can feel the hopefulness in the air.” “My sweet Seoyeon-ie here deserves the credit; it was her idea to announce the plan to the trainees.” Dayeon nods before closing the door and disappearing behind it.

“Oppa,” Seoyeon taps your nape to get your attention, “can we go home now? Let’s leave the trainees with Dayeon-ie.” “Don’t you want to get breakfast before we head home?” She nods against your left cheek. “I want some bubble waffles, oppa.”

While you wait for the bubble waffles to be made, Seoyeon is at the nearby convenience store to get some stuff.

“Would you like to add anything to the other waffle?” “Can I have some peanut butter on the side, please?” The staff nods and fills two small cups with peanut butter, as you’ve requested.

As timing would have it, Seoyeon is walking out of the convenience store right as you’re making your way towards it. “Bag secured, baby,” you show her the plastic bag, “we can go home now.” “Of course you got peanut butter,” she comments. “You know me.”

Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours as the two of you walk towards your car. “Do you like to eat in the car, or?” “No, let’s eat at home.”

You sit on the sofa with Seoyeon as soon as you enter your apartment. “Here’s yours, baby,” you hand over the cookie-and-cream waffle. “Oppa, don’t eat all your peanut butter; I want some too later.” You guess that she wants to balance the sweetness of her waffle with some peanut butter, so you make sure you don’t use all of it for yourself.

Your girlfriend only eats about half of her waffle before putting it down on the table. “Bedroom,” she says suddenly, “right meow.” “O…kay?” She urges you to go first and says that she’ll join you after drinking some water. “I’ll be waiting for you, baby.”

You promptly begin scratching your head as soon as you climb onto the bed, confused as to why Seoyeon suddenly wants to go the bedroom so early in the day. “She probably wants to cuddle,” you guess.

“Oh, hi, mister,” she walks into the bedroom with urgency, “you know what I want, don’t you?” “Erm, cuddle?” “Cuddle, he says—God, he’s so clueless sometimes,” she thinks, finding your cluelessness both funny and (mildly) annoying. “Yeah, I do want a cuddle.”

You lie flat in the center of the bed and spread your limbs apart, inviting Seoyeon to take her rightful spot, and once she lies on top of your body, you use your limbs to secure her in place. “Like this, my love?” She wiggles a bit to get you to loosen up a little. “It’s perfect now.”

“Hey, so, uh, why are we here?” Seoyeon grunts. “What, you don’t like cuddling anymore?” “C’mon, baby; I didn’t say that, did I? I’m just curious, y’know.” You’re confused when she begins grinding her crotch against yours. “It was supposed to be a segue to sex, but now that you’re asking, we might as well start now.” “Baby, it’s not even 10 yet.” Seoyeon breaks free from your limbs and moves to sit on your stomach. “Surely you’re not denying me sexual pleasures, are you?” You sigh deeply. “No, I’m not; I would never.”

Seoyeon rewards your correct answer with a steamy kiss that helps you get hard. Unfortunately, though, it’s getting a bit painful since these boxers and joggers aren’t the stretchiest. “Babe,” you call to her, “take off my pants, please.” “Of course, daddy.”

She grabs the waistband of your joggers and hooks her fingers to the inside so that she can pull down your boxers at the same time. “My, my, you’re excited to see me, aren’t you?” You nod as she begins stroking your cock. “You know I’m always excited for you.”

To your absolute surprise, Seoyeon pulls out the cup of peanut butter from her shorts pocket. “Remember this, daddy?” You keep your eyes on her as she coats the tip of your cock with peanut butter and spreads it along your length. “Look at this, daddy,” she keeps stroking your shaft to make sure it’s evenly coated, “this is going to taste so good.”

You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon takes your peanut butter-coated cock in her mouth, and she exclaims at the taste. You jolt a little when you feel her tongue running wild on the underside of your cock. “Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that, baby.”

After a few minutes of bobbing her head on your cock, Seoyeon taps your thigh to get your attention. “Wook aw we,” she mumbles. Once you look at her, she starts going down on your cock even further until its entirety disappears in her mouth. “Oh, you’re fucking crazy,” you’re breathless at this point, “fuck, your throat is going to get stretched, baby.”

Seoyeon comes up air after having had her airway blocked by your cock. “That was so good, daddy; the peanut butter added some extra flavors.” You nod weakly. “I-I’m glad, baby.” She climbs onto the bed and lies down next to you. “Your turn, daddy,” she pulls out another cup of peanut butter—the one that you ate out of less than an hour ago—and places it on your chest. “Gladly.”

With half a cup of peanut butter in hand, you pull Seoyeon by her legs towards you until her legs hang past the edge of the bed. “You know where this is going, don’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “Tell me, then, baby.” “Y-you will smear peanut butter over my pink pussy and eat me out until I squirt all over your face.” She rarely talks about herself in such a manner, and hearing it arouses you even more. “That’s correct, baby.”

You get on your knees, and Seoyeon’s shiny pussy is right in front of your eyes. She jolts when you place a finger on her nub. “Aww, sensitive much?” She nods. “P-please, daddy, make me feel good.”

You use your index and middle fingers to pick up some peanut butter and spread it crassly on Seoyeon’s pussy, and she keeps moaning as you do it. “Oh, this is going to taste so good,” you use her line against her. “D-don’t say it like—oh, God, daddy.” Seoyeon immediately clamps your head with her thick thighs, and you swear that they cancel noises better than any fancy Sony headphones in your collection.

You continue administering stimulation on her pussy, earning endless sensual moans from your girlfriend, and at this moment, you’re glad your parents have inherited their love for peanut butter onto you. “D-daddy,” her voice is barely heard, “d-daddy, I’m about to cum.”

You pick up the intensity of the cunnilingus as you’re highly enthused to make her finish; your tongue runs all over her pussy while occasionally sucking and nibbling her nub. Seoyeon places a hand on the back of your head while using the other hand to play with her plump tits for extra stimulation.

You’re surprised when Seoyeon’s juice suddenly hits you in the face, but you manage to open your mouth just in time to catch some of them. Unable to speak, you tap her thigh to get her attention. “W-what?” You swallow her juice that’s pooled in your mouth in one go, and Seoyeon lets out a chuckle. “You’re insane, daddy.”

You use some wet wipes to clean yourself and your girlfriend. “T-thank you, daddy.” You peck her on the forehead. “No, baby, thank you—I hope this is enough for now, though.” She nods. “It should be.”

Seoyeon climbs onto your body when you lie on the bed. “D-daddy,” she moves on to a different subject, “do you—erm, do you like my body?” You’re both startled and confused. “What is that question, babe?” “I mean, I-I’m not as fit as Dayeon-ie—I think her tits are also bigger than mine.” Your jaw drops due to the absurdity. “When have I compared you to her, hm?” “J-just answer the question, daddy.”

You take a deep breath as you formulate an answer for your girlfriend. “First of all, I love your physique because you’re thick on the right spots. Number two, you’re very tight, both the front and the back.” “Really?” You scoff. “Do you not remember how I busted early when we first did anal?” Seoyeon giggles. “That virgin ass was too much for your mighty cock, wasn’t it, daddy?” “Oh, for sure.”

Based on her smile, you estimate that she’s satisfied with your answer. “Baby, look,” you say, “you know I’m not a fan of talking about a girl’s body like that, but I hope you understand what I was trying to say.” She nods. “I-I just needed some boost to my confidence, daddy, and you delivered just that.” You give her a peck on the lips. “I’m glad I could help.”

Seoyeon straightens her posture. “Can I have this, daddy?” She asks as she starts stroking your cock again. “Are you desperate for it?” “Oh, c’mon, you know I can’t have enough of you, and I know you can’t have enough of me.” You chuckle. “That’s one way to put it.”

Your girlfriend lifts her butt of your lap and— “Oh, fuck, you’re in my ass, daddy.” “Yeah?” You can only say one word as you fight her constraining asshole. “You’re so big in my ass, daddy—fuck, you’re stretching me like crazy.” You reach around to spank her. “Ride my cock, baby.” “Y-yes, sir.”

Seoyeon plants her hands on your chest and begins moving up and down at a relaxed pace on your cock, savoring the sensation of getting stretched that is almost too much for her. “N-no one can do it like I can, right, daddy?” You’re about to open your mouth when she piles on another question. “No one can take you in the ass as well as I can, right, daddy?” “Yes, and yes,” you say, “no one can do it like you can, and no one else deserves me like you do.”

Seoyeon rewards your correct answers (again) by picking up the pace of her bounces, and you can’t help but let go of the controls of the session. “Just like that, baby—exactly like that,” you make sure the praises are flowing without hindrance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” curses are flowing out of Seoyeon’s lips without hindrance—quite the contrast with you, but it’s no secret that opposites attract like crazy.

“D-daddy,” she’s showing signs of exhaustion, “t-take over, please—take over and fuck me like you always do.” You pull her into an embrace and roll over so that you’re on top. “Are you going to tap out like last time?” “Hold me down and force me to take it, daddy—I’m your slut.” That’s quite the nasty term, but at this moment, it only adds to your arousal. Your giggle sounds like a movie villain’s. “Alright, bet.”

You hold her legs and fold them over her body. “You’re going to take it like a good slut, aren’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “F-fuck—OH, FUCK ME, DADDY!” The bedroom is getting filled with screams and moans from your girlfriend and heavy grunts from you as you pound her ass without mercy.

Seoyeon’s eyes start rolling backwards as time goes, completely in submission to your cock. A particular thrust messes up your hair, thus disrupting your vision of your girlfriend. You stop momentarily to tidy up, and while you’re at it, you take a moment to check up on her. “You okay, baby?” She nods weakly. “M-my ass is going to be so sore,” she says weakly.

With your hair tidied up, you start moving again at a pace that’s similar prior to the pause. “Ngh, ngh, ngh.” Only these sounds come out of Seoyeon’s mouth as you fuck her ass restlessly to chase an orgasm. In her head, she’s praying that it’s good enough for you, considering that she can’t help but be passive in this position. “Daddy is using me,” these words keep going around in her head endlessly, but she must admit, anal sex offers much more sensation; the pain, the tightness, and the stretch are different than vaginal sex.

With a grunt, you lodge your cock as deep as you can into her ass and blow a massive load right into her. “B-baby,” you’re breathless again, “I love you so, so, so much.” “Have mercy,” she weakly replies. When you retreat from her ass, it leaks out some excess cum onto the bed, but that’s fine, you can just swap the sheets. “Are you okay, baby—are you hurt?” Seoyeon shakes her head. “I-I need some water, though.”

You’re sitting at the desk in your bedroom while Seoyeon (who is still naked) is lying in bed and is on her phone, scrolling through social media.

“Babe,” you call to her, “Jihyun-ie is video-calling me.” “Why?” “I don’t know,” you’re as clueless as she is. Seoyeon sits on your lap and tilts the webcam upwards so that it doesn’t pick up her nude form. “Accept it, oppa; I want to hear what she has to say.”

“Oh my God, you’re both here!” You see that it’s actually Hyeonju and Sunwoo, the latter holding a guitar. “Oh, you two are really dating, huh?” You chuckle. “What would I gain from lying to you, Miss Kim?”

“Wait, Seoyeon-unnie,” Sunwoo says, “you’re not naked, are you—I can see your bare shoulder, you know.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily before winking at Sunwoo, and she’s met with exclaims of disbelief from the two girls. “I really shouldn’t have asked that, huh?” “No, but it’s okay; me and oppa are consenting adults.”

“So, to what do we owe this call, girls?” Hyeonju fights the heat in her cheeks and says that her and Sunwoo would like to give you a present in the form of some song covers. “We practiced this afternoon, oppa,” she adds. You look at Seoyeon through the screen and see that she’s excited to hear them sing. “Sounds great—we’re ready when you are.”

Sunwoo starts playing the guitar to signal to Hyeonju that she’s ready, and Hyeonju starts bopping her head as she gets ready to sing. “Feel free to sing along, boss,” she says right before it’s time to sing.

私は私貴方は貴方と (I am only me, you are only you)

昨夜言ってたそんな気もするわ (I said that last night and still feel the same way)

グレイのジャケットに (You in your gray jacket)

見覚えがあるコーヒーのしみ (With that familiar coffee stain)

相変らずなのね (Just as you always are)

ショーウィンドウに二人映れば (Our reflection in the display window)

You know this song so well; at some point in your university life, you and your friends were obsessed with this song and listened to it so frequently, but Seoyeon doesn’t know what song this is. “I’ll tell you more about it later,” you whisper to her as you get ready to sing along.

Stay with me~

真夜中のドアをたたき (Knocking on Midnight’s door)

帰らないでと泣いた (Begging you to not go home)

あの季節が今目の前 (That season when I cried right in front of your eyes)

Stay with me~

口ぐせを言いながら (Saying our favorite words)

二人の瞬間を抱いて (Holding on to our little moment)

まだ忘れず大事にしていた (I’ll never forget it as long as I live)

You clap your hands loudly in praise and awe when Hyeonju stops singing. “Oh my God, Kim Hyeonju,” you say, your tone high in excitement, “you absolutely killed that cover—goodness me!” “You know that song, boss?” You roll your eyes playfully. “That should be my question—how do you know that song that’s older than your parents, hm?” Hyeonju laughs. “I stumbled upon it when I was scrolling the internet,” she gives a very typical today’s kid’s answer. “I was obsessed with that song when I was in university, you know.”

Seoyeon taps your forearm. “What song was that, oppa?” “Girls, your Seoyeon-unnie doesn’t know what song it was,” you tease her, “the song is called Mayonaka no Door, sweetie, sung by the legendary Miki Matsubara and was released in 1979.” Her jaw drops. “Oh my God, that’s a long time ago.” You nod. “That’s why I wondered how Hyeonju and Sunwoo knew about this song.”

Hyeonju asks for your attention, citing that she and Sunwoo are ready to present the second song cover for you and Seoyeon. “Ah, I know this one,” Seoyeon comments when Sunwoo starts playing her guitar.

네가 날 싫어해하는 걸 알아 (I know that you hate me)

나는 서운해 (I’m sad)

그런 날 왜 너는 못 이해해 (Why can’t you understand me?)

You don’t understand, 난 너를 좋아한다고 (You don’t understand, I like you)

You have a big grin on your face, expecting Sunwoo and Hyeonju to share the lines like the original artists, and true enough, they are.

내가 뭘 잘못했는데 (What did I do wrong?)

내게 왜 그러는데 (Why are you doing this to me)

그럴수록 난 되게 섭섭해 (The more you do that, the sadder I get) Oh I’m so sad

그러니까 슬슬 (So let me slowly) come into your heart

마음 중요한 건 마음 (The important thing is the heart)

결코 네 얼굴만 보고 좋아하는 거 — 아니 아니야 (I’m not liking you just for your face—no, no)

날 미워하는 너의 날이 선 말투까지도 (Even your sharp words that hate on me)

사랑하게 된 거 이게 내 맘이야 (I came to love them, this is my heart)

Just like before, you clap your hands loudly in praise. “Great job, girls,” you add, “wow, you’re great at this.” “We told you we wouldn’t let you down, didn’t we, boss?” You can hear the pride in Sunwoo’s voice. “Oh, that you did, Sunwoo-yah, and trust me when I say that I’m anything but disappointed right now.”

You’re interrupted when Seoyeon suddenly kisses you in front of the girls, and you can hear their loud, surprised exclaim through the video call—this is the first time she has committed a public display of affection with you. “Oh my God, you two are so in love,” Sunwoo comments. “You have no idea,” Seoyeon says after breaking the kiss, “oppa is such an amazing boyfriend for me.” “Promise us you’ll invite us to your wedding, unnie,” Sunwoo adds, thus making Seoyeon laugh. She leans closer towards the camera, presumably to whisper something into the microphone. “Hey, uh, don’t tell anyone yet, but the wedding is closer than you think.” You’re met with another loud scream from the other side of the screen.

You tap her back to get her attention. “You think so, baby?” You speak quietly so that the microphone doesn’t pick up your voice. “Oh, I know so,” she says, “I’m going to make you mine, oppa.” Another grin decorates your face.

“And you’re going to be mine forever, baby girl.”

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #triples smut

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halfratsalready · 24 hours ago

Text

Tagged by @doodling-doodle :)

Last Song: A Little Priest from Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2023 Broadway Cast Recording) (Josh Groban and Annaleigh Ashford my parentsss) (technically not last song cuz I’m listening to it now but ya know)

Favorite colors: Red (the blood of angry men) and Black (the dark of ages past) (no seriously those are my favorite colors the Les Mis reference just happens to work)

Last book: Dracula by Bram Stoker

Last movie: Labyrinth (1986)

Last TV show: Will (2017) (genuinely such a good show and nobody knows about it cuz it’s on no streaming services but agh I love it and JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER MY BELOVED)

Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet

Relationship status: Turning 22 in less than a week and has never even had a crush on anyone

Last thing I googled: Mary Jane Kelly funeral (Mary Jane Kelly was the fifth and final victim of Jack the Ripper and is the inspiration for a musical I’m writing. I try to take a moment on the anniversaries of her death and her funeral to privately honor her memory. I know her funeral was either the day before or after my birthday, but I can never remember which, so I looked it up)

Current obsession: (This is the part where I look like a lunatic oops…) This one show a nearby theme park does at Halloween (I wish I was joking but it occupies my every thought), high key falling back into my Grindeldore obsession (fuck JKR! fortunately the fan content for this ship is 10x better than anything canon can offer so I don’t have to engage with any of her content to engage with the ship, also JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER MY BELOVED), and ngl feeling sort of drained of my JD obsession but hoping that the fic exchange will fix it (fingers crossed)

Looking forward to: A Friendsgiving party, my birthday (sort of, but also scared to turn 22 lol), doing holiday season things with friends, PowerPoint night with friends in January 😈 (also seeing aforementioned theme park Halloween show again next year and Halloween next year in general)

Tagging- you all know the drill, hop in if you wanna, I love reading people’s answers to these :)

ten people i'd like to get to know better

tagged by: @megkuna thanks <333

last song: the phantom of the opera

favorite color: muted green

last book: uhhhhhh oh man i really need to start reading books

last movie: phantom of the opera which i watched with a friend

last tv show: the original star trek which i also watched with a friend

sweet/spicy/savory: sweet, i love sugar too much

relationship status: single and not looking, i'd rather just have more friends

last thing i googled: "how to know if skincare routine is too harsh" my pimples hurt in a Different way now :(

current obsession: probably still mob psycho 100 but it's not what it used to be. yay depression

looking forward to: when my family finally moves into the new house

tagging: @scarecloud69 @disorganised-thoughtss @daneonrainbow @lawful-goof @officialkarinuzumaki @leo-probably @vychodocech @umkayonninay @mocha-blossom @spageddy29 no pressure though <3

#this probably tells you more about me than anything else I’ve ever posted lol #meant to do this a hot minute ago but better late than never I suppose #oboe rambles #like REALLY rambles

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aventurineswife · 3 days ago

Note

aventurine, sunday, and any others when reader pretends to not remember them after a bad injury hehe…[angst with fluff at the end] i love giving my poor babies heart attacks mwahaha

anyways love u and ur writings btw k byeee drink water ok byeee 💕✨

“I'm sorry, but who are you?”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Fluff, Light Humor Angst to Fluff, Established Relationship, Memory Loss, Reassurance.

Warnings: Emotional distress (brief moments of fear and confusion).

A/N: thanks for reminder, anon! 😪😮‍💨I really need to drink some water

Aventurine's eyes widened, his usual playful smirk faltering as you looked at him, confusion clouding your gaze. He reached out, as though instinctively wanting to close the distance between you, but he hesitated. Your words cut through the air, soft and fragile.

"You… you are… who exactly?"

The words stung more than he expected. His heart raced in his chest as he observed the faint, distant look in your eyes. He had always been in control of the game, masterful in reading people, but this? This was a blow to his carefully constructed facade.

"You don’t remember me?" His voice was softer now, the bravado slipping as his pulse quickened.

You shook your head, an empty feeling creeping into your chest. "I don’t think so. Sorry… am I supposed to?"

Aventurine's smile faltered, and for a moment, you saw something raw beneath his cool exterior. Pain. Fear. He stepped back slightly, trying to hide the cracks forming in his walls.

"I suppose I’ve miscalculated…" he muttered to himself, voice barely audible.

But then, you reached out and touched his arm gently.

"I—"

Aventurine looked at you, his breath catching in his throat as you softly smiled. "I do remember you, though. Maybe I was just… testing you?"

The game was on again, but this time, it was different. He chuckled, a soft, relieved sound that made the weight of his worries lift just a little.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" he said, his voice returning to its usual lighthearted tone, though there was an underlying tenderness now.

You smiled. "I think I’ll keep you on your toes."

And with that, the shadows of doubt lifted, replaced by the warmth of your presence—one he could no longer imagine being without.

Sunday stood there, his eyes darkened with a mix of concern and confusion, staring at you as if you were a stranger. His fingers twitched slightly, an impulse to reach out, to make sure you were real, that you hadn’t slipped into some other world.

"You… you don’t recognize me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, fragile under the weight of his own disbelief.

You blinked at him, the blank look in your eyes unnerving him more than he cared to admit. "I’m sorry… I don’t think I do. Are we… close?"

The air between you seemed to freeze, thick with unspoken emotions. His mind was racing—how could you forget him, forget everything you had shared? The kindness, the warmth, the bond he’d built so carefully with you...

"I see," Sunday murmured, his gaze softening with a hint of sadness. "I suppose it’s a part of the dream, isn't it? To forget… to lose everything."

You could see the strain in his expression, the hope fading from his eyes. "Sunday, I… I didn’t mean to forget you."

You reached for him, your hand trembling as you touched his sleeve. The contact seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, and his breath caught.

A moment of stillness.

Then Sunday smiled faintly, the sadness still lingering. "I suppose we’ll just have to make you remember, won't we?" His voice was gentle, though you could hear the underlying fear in it.

You smiled, this time with a reassurance he needed. "I think I already do."

A sigh escaped him, a soft, grateful breath as he pulled you into his arms.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." he murmured into your hair, holding you close.

Ratio’s usual air of unshakable confidence was nowhere to be seen. He stood before you, his eyes wide with confusion and an almost frantic edge to his movements.

"You—don’t remember me?" he repeated, his voice betraying a crack he hadn’t expected.

You stared at him, trying to piece together the fragments of the world around you, the details of his appearance leaving you more unsettled than anything. "I… I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you."

His frown deepened, his expression unreadable but filled with something you couldn't quite place—was it hurt? Disbelief?

"I see. This is… unfortunate," he said, voice smooth yet tinged with something that didn’t fit. He folded his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing slightly. "I expected better from your memory."

You looked at him more closely, sensing a vulnerability underneath the sharpness of his demeanor. He was, despite his intellectual brilliance, losing himself in this.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, your hand reaching for his, gently catching his wrist. "I’m sorry… but I’m sure we’ve met before. I just—"

He paused, his sharp breath catching in his throat as he looked down at your hand on his. For a brief moment, his composure cracked, and you could see the raw emotion behind his usually controlled facade.

"Don't do this to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the weight of the situation was too much to bear. "You must remember."

You smiled softly, understanding now. "I remember. You’re the one who always insists on teaching me things."

His gaze softened instantly, a relieved exhale leaving him. "Good."

Ratio’s usual brilliance returned, but this time, there was something gentler about him. "Perhaps next time, try not to lose your memory so easily."

And though his words were sharp, his hand reached out to take yours, a reassurance that you were not lost to him.

Me lmaoo

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rosemariiaa · 3 days ago

Text

𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙁𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎

00 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚, 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚.

“I’m afraid to see what’s in my head , So I lock it up in my heart”

rosie’s note: long awaited pazzi series.. let’s hope I can be consistent with these chapters and not forget about after a few weeks.happy ready lovelies ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: none!

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

I’ve never been great with people. Sure, I can hold a conversation, crack a joke, make some friends. But there’s always this weird distance—like I’m just performing, pretending to be someone I’m not. The truth is, I’m not as confident as people think I am. I hate being vulnerable. But she made it easier.

I still remember the first time she reached out to me. Her message popped up on my computer late one night, while I was scrolling through my Blogspot—my little corner of the internet where I could just… breathe. No one knew who I was on there. Just a girl venting about life, school, basketball, and the tangled mess that was my head.

She said she’d been reading my posts for a while and liked them. She said she didn’t have anyone else to talk to, and honestly, I didn’t either. So we started messaging. At first, it was just random stuff—homework, teachers, the usual teenage nonsense.

But soon enough, she started opening up more. Things I never expected to hear. About her family. Her stepdad. The kids at school who made her feel invisible. She told me how her mom remarried, and how everything felt off after that. I didn’t know why she was sharing all this with me, someone she’d never met, someone who was practically a stranger. But there was something about it. Something that made it feel right.

We got into the deeper stuff too—the insecurities, the self-doubt, the anger at things we couldn’t control. And yeah, I shared my own stuff too. It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough. My parents getting divorced. Moving from place to place. The pressure to be perfect all the time. I guess it’s easier when you don’t have to show your face. She wasn’t some random person to me anymore. She was… real.

She called me “her safe space.” And for some reason, I was okay with that. I think I needed her as much as she needed me, even if I couldn’t admit it back then. It was like she understood me in a way no one else did.

But the thing is, I never told her who I really was. She didn’t need to know I was Paige Bueckers, the basketball player everyone at school thought they knew. She didn’t need know I was just a girl trying to figure out where I fit in all of this.

It was just us. She and I. We could be ourselves without pretending. And that felt… like a goddamn relief.

But that was the thing—she was just an anonymous name on a screen. I didn’t know who she was either. Not really. I only knew what she shared, what she let me see.

Then came that night. The night I saw her name pop up in the chat, just like always. But this time, it wasn’t just her usual message. It was a question. “What if we could meet? Like, in real life?” Oh.

I froze. And my stomach did this weird flip.

I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t even know if I wanted to. What if she was someone I knew? What if she was someone I was supposed to hate? What if… it was her?

————

tag list ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @juspeaks @mrsarnold @d3arapril @authentic-girl03 @absolutelydreadful

#pazzi #halfway strangers fic #rosie’s works 🎧⋆｡ °⋆#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #fic talk

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httpdwaekki · 3 days ago

Text

massage | l.m. - s.c. - h.h. - y.j.

summary: you're sore and stressed but luckily your boy is there to help. collab w/ @giddyfatherchris <3

wc | ss: 5.4k | 5

warnings: fem! reader, use of noona (jeongin), nudity (not sexual), descriptions of pain, definitely typos bc i wrote most of these a long time ago, probably more but you get the generally consensus.

a/n: i would like to give ilya a formal apology for how long it took me to write these, truly an egregious amount of time LMAO. but she never rushed me once and i love n appreciate that more than she knows. also made these way longer than they needed to be but, anyway! i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3. (also sorry if the writing style feels different for some, i wrote these months apart so it might get weird lol)

please consider donating to this fundraiser!

part 1 | my library

banners by cafekitsune

(photos are not mine! credit to owners!)

minho

wc: 1.5k | ss: 1

you didn’t argue it further knowing it was futile.

he wraps an arm around your waist as you both say your goodbyes, helping you walk back to the car. you were both spending the day with his members, chan had found a new trail he wanted to explore, inviting all the members and you to tag along.

about half way into the trail your ankle started to flare up, causing you to start limping. it was an old injury that just didn’t heal correctly so being on it for long periods of time causes pain as well as swelling. you tried to hide it because you were having a good time but minho clocked it almost immediately.

once you were sat in the car, minho rounded the car, popping the trunk of the car to grab something. he opens the door, sitting while placing a bag in your lap before starting the car. “what’s this?” you asked softly, opening the bag.

“i figured your feet would hurt after walking for so long so i brought comfier shoes for you.” he explains as you pull out your crocs and a pair of soft socks. you stick out your bottom lip, heart warming from the kind gesture. you kick your old shoes off, replacing them with the softer pair, placing the old ones back in the bag.

“thank you 자기야.” leaning over, giving him a kiss on his slightly pink cheek, settling back in your chair. he smiles, putting the car in gear before grabbing your hand, looking into your eyes as he places a kiss to the back of it. “anything for you.” he whispers against your skin, dropping your joined hands in his lap before taking his foot off the brake.

the ride home was silent beside the music softly playing in the background as minho drove. you leaned towards him, hissing as your ankle and foot began to feel tender. he squeezes your hand, placing a kiss to it, rubbing soothing circles to the back of it.

“we’ll be home soon 야기.” you nod, trying not to think about the throbbing pain, focusing more on the passing landscape.

soon the car pulls up to your shared apartment, luckily there was an open spot in front of your building. you unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle, letting go of his hand before he grabs it again. you pause, looking at him confused, “what’s wrong?” you ask softly.

“just wait a second, let me help you.” he waits for a response, big eyes staring into yours. you nod, allowing him to help. he smiles, placing one last kiss to the back of your hand before unbuckling, making his way to your side.

he opens the door, pointing to the bag by your feet, “let me take that first.” you hand it over before carefully scooting to the edge of the seat. he puts the bag on his back before reaching down for you.

you take his hands, planting your feet on the ground, hissing at the slight pressure you put on the sore appendage. “take your time, okay? don’t push it.” he says, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand once more. you nod, taking a deep breath before carefully standing up.

he helps pull up the extra weight, helping you lean against him a bit once at your full height. once you move out of the way, you push the door closed as minho adjusted his grip on your waist.

“ready?” you nod, smiling as you slowly limp your way to your door, suddenly thankful you lived on the first floor. he quickly unlocks the door, placing the bag to the side before slipping off his shoes.

“do you need help?” he asks, pointing to your feet still in your crocs. you shake your head before holding onto his arm, slipping your feet out of the shoes cautiously. he helps you to your room where he sits you down on the bed before opening the closet.

“do you wanna take a shower now or later?” he asks, rummaging through clothes for something more comfortable for both of you to change into. you thought about it for a second, knowing you probably should, but just wanting to relax and stay off your foot.

“i’ll shower a little later, once it starts feeling better.” you respond as he walks over with two sets of clothes in hand. he places yours down next to you, “do you want help getting changed?” you nod your head before answering, “maybe with the shorts, please.” you smiled up at him.

“of course 야기.” he says, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead while reaching for your shorts. he taps your thigh, then his shoulder, causing you to stand up, balancing on his shoulder.

“i’m gonna unbutton these now, okay?” he asks, his fingers brushing the metal of your pants. you nod before he undoes the button, pulling down the zipper, sliding his hands into the fabric, pulling it down your legs.

you lift each leg to let him take the fabric off them, wincing as you put pressure on the hurt one. he kisses the leg of your hurt ankle, rubbing it softly as he tosses your pants to the side. he grabs the shorts on the edge of your bed, getting them ready for you to step in safely.

“ just one more time 자기야 .” he says, waiting for you to step into them. you adjust your grip on his shoulders one last time before stepping into it. you bite your lip in pain, as you slip the second leg into the fabric, letting him pull them up your legs completely.

he places a kiss to each thigh before you sit back down. “thank you, min.” you smile before he gets up, leaving a kiss on your lips as he goes. “anything for you, 야기.” he smiles back before grabbing his stack of clothes on the bed.“i’ll be right back okay?” you nod and watch as he walks into the bathroom not bothering to shut the door.

you slip off your shirt, replacing it with a softer, bigger one, throwing the old fabric in the same direction as your pants. you get up to walk (limp) your way to the kitchen to grab a cold compress before you relax.

you made it to the door before minho leaves the bathroom. “what do you think you’re doing?” he asks from the doorway, his hands full of medicine, lotions and wraps. “i’m going to get a cold compress from the freezer?” you ask in a small voice, feeling like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“sit back down before you make it worse please.” he scolds, pointing to the bed as best he could with full arms. “but i-” you cut yourself dramatically points to the bed once more. you sigh, shuffling your way back to the bed, where you sit down once more.

he walks over, setting everything down on the foot of the bed before gently grabbing your leg, slotting himself between them, placing the hurt one on his lap. he grabs the medicated lotion, lightly massaging the swollen area.

“oh that feels nice.” you sigh, sinking into the pillows behind you as he continues his work. he does that for a good 15 minutes, pausing when he hits a particularly sore spot before continuing with a softer touch.

you didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until he finishes wrapping up your foot and ankle, grabbing a pillow to place under it. “i’ll be right back love.” he whispers, placing a kiss to your hair before leaving the room.

he comes in a few moments later, with more supplies in hand. he places a water bottle, snack and medicine bottle on your bedside table before, carefully placing the compress to your ankle. he gently presses down, pulling a sigh from you as you feel the cold seep through the wrap.

he grabs the snack bar, opening it before handing it to you, who happily takes a bite out of the sweet bar. he opens the bottle of water, trading with you once you finish your snack. he watches you take a couple sips before opening the medicine bottle, holding out 2 pills for you.

you take them from him, putting them in your mouth as he grabs the trash to throw out. he enters the room once again with another water bottle, placing it next to yours.

he grabs a blanket carefully laying it on top of you before making his way to the other side of the bed. he turns on the show you’re watching together before settling in next to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“thank you for taking care of me, my love.” you whispering, leaning into him, placing a kiss to the arm closest to you. he tightens his arms around you, placing a kiss to your hair, “anything for you, 자기야 .” you smile, melting into him, where you both stay for the rest of the night.

changbin

wc: 1.1k | ss: 1

you weren’t technically lying, you were tired. you didn’t tell the whole truth either.

it was your fault, truly, you worked out yesterday, didn’t properly stretch and you certainly didn’t drink enough water after your workout. you were so worried about some work to finish up that you forgot about it.

so unfortunately this led to you getting a charley horse in not one, but both calves. you had woken up this morning, stretched and both of your calves immediately seized up. the pain was immediate and lasted for about a minute.

you probably should’ve told bin but, you didn’t feel like getting lectured on top of everything else you had going on. plus, he had enough going on, he didn’t need to worry about your silly little muscle cramp.

you were moving around-semi fine. it did hurt to walk and your legs feel super tight but it was nothing to worry about- and certainly not for changbin to stress over. that was short-lived however, as soon as he arrived at your apartment, he clocked you immediately.

“what did you do?” he asked as soon as you opened the door.

“what? no hi baby! how are you? how was your day?” you pouted. “all i get is a what did you do?” you said in your best bini impression. “yeah it is because you hurt my baby and not even you can get away with that.” he shot back.

you roll your eyes at his comment. “will you at least get inside before you chastise me.” you widen the door to allow him to pass. once inside, he sets his bag and keys down while kicking off his shoes.

“so?” he asks, looking at you. “i just got a charley horse bin, i’m fine.” you reassure him softly. you saw it in his face as soon as the words left your mouth.

you quickly raise your hand as he opens his mouth. “i know, i don’t want to hear bin please, i just want to lay down.” you say, feeling defeated and tired. “okay bunny.” he sighed, grabbing your hand, placing it around his waist before wrapping his arms around you.

you both stay there for a minute before bini pulls away, places a kiss on your cheek. “can i carry you to bed?” you nod before he picks you up bridal style, pulling a squeak from you in surprise. you quickly wrap your arms around his neck and he carries you to your room.

he carefully lays you down on your soft mattress before walking into your bathroom. he walks back out, massage oil and towel in his hand.

you move to sit up, giving him space, getting ready to give him a massage. but when you look up, he’s just staring at you, almost hurt.

“what are you doing?”

you tilt your head in confusion. “sitting up to give you a massage.” you say, eyes big as you look at him. he walks over to you shaking his head, “no bunny, lay back, i’m giving you one.” he sets the folded towel and oil at the edge of the bed before moving your leg to sit.

“but i told you i’d give you one.” you mumbled, your eyes following his movements. “did you really think i’d make you give me one when you’re clearly tired and hurting?” you look down as you realized how silly it sounded.

“baby,” he places a gentle hand to your cheek, forcing you to look at you. “why don’t you ever let me take care of you?” he asked, eyes filled with love and concern. you shrug, “i’m just not used to asking for or receiving it i guess.”

his thumb gently rubs the soft skin of your cheek, “will you let me take care of you please?” he asks softly.his thumb gently rubs the soft skin of your cheek, “will you let me take care of you please?” he asks softly.

you give him a small nod. “okay.” he smiles, leaning forward to cover your face in kisses, before you giggle, softly pushing him away. “binnie!” you squeak. “okay okay.” he giggles, backing away.

he goes to help you lay back but not before stealing one last kiss. you try to act annoyed but your smile gives you away. “do you want to watch frieren?” he asks as he helps you move your pillows and blanket to get comfy.

“yes please.” you reply, fixing the soft blanket he placed over you. he hands you the remote for the tv before sitting down, placing your legs atop his. he puts the towel under your legs before putting some of the oil in his hands, gently rubbing the tight muscle.

“let me know if it hurts okay?” you give him a quick nod and smile before pressing play, snuggling under the soft fabric. he adds a little more pressure, you let out a small noise, the muscle feeling tender.

he immediately stops, “are you okay?” you nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “it’s just tender, it feels good though.” he guy, understanding, continue his massage, a tad bit lighter.

you both stay like that for at least 20 minutes, binnie switching legs half way through. it only took a few of those twenty to drift off, not fully sleeping but definitely not conscious.

until binnie stopped his movements, gently wiping away the excess oil. you open your eyes and look down, admiring the sweet boy in front of you.

once finished with the task at hand he meets your eyes and pauses. you give him a sleepy smile before making grabby hands to him. he giggles, moving your legs, throwing the towel to side, carefully laying on top of you.

you wrap your arms around him as he places kisses all of your face, pulling giggles from you in the process.

he stops for a moment and admires you, “what?” you ask softly. he shakes his head, “you know i love you right? and i’ll always be here to take care of you.” he’s looking at you with so much love. you nod your head, bring one hand to his soft cheek.

“i know, baby, and you know the same goes for your right?” your thumb gently rubbing the skin as he nods. he quickly leans down, placing a loving kiss to your plush lips before rolling over, pulling you into his chest.

he pulls a blanket over both of you, letting you get comfy, handing you your plushie before wrapping his arms around you. “love you so much bunny, okay?” he reassures once more, placing a kiss to your temple.

you sink further into him, placing a kiss above his heart, “you love you too, my binnie, so much.”

hyunjin

wc: 1.3k | ss: 2

to say you felt overwhelmed was an understatement.

you knew hyunjin would do anything for you, he’d drop everything if you asked him too. however, you never did, always worrying about burdening or annoying him no matter how much you preached the opposite.

you were stressed out, in pain and on top of that feeling so guilty. because not only did you cancel on your boyfriend and his friends but now, you made your boyfriend also cancel on his friends.

so now here you were, sitting on your couch, still in your work clothes, tears streaming down your face as the guilt, stress and pain overwhelmed your senses.

so much so that you were unaware of said boyfriend using his key to enter your apartment.

he was immediately alarmed by the uneven breathing coming from your couch. he made quick work of discarding his shoes and bags before finding the source of the noise.

“hey, hey, angel what’s going on?”

he rounded the furniture as shot up, looking at him. “i’m sorry.” you sobbed, covering your face in the process. he quickly makes his way to you, kneeling in front of you, one hand on your head, thumb brushing your forehead.

second hand gently rubbing the arm closest to him. “hey, what’s going on, hm? what are you apologizing for?” you feel him rest his chin on your shoulder.

you shake your head slightly, feeling suffocated under all the negative emotions. “breathe baby, breathe.” he pulls your hands from your face in an attempt to help you breathe better.

“can you sit up for me?” he whispers, thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your forehead. you shake your head, “it hurts.” you whimper, turning to face him.

“your back?” you nod, unshed tears gather in your eyes. he leans forward, placing a kiss to your forehead. “okay, will you let me help you? i just wanna help you feel better but you gotta sit up okay?”

he can see the stress in your face, “it’ll be okay, okay? i promise. i just wanna get you to the bathroom so i can run you a bath okay?” you’d be lying if you said that didn’t sound divine.

you nod your head slightly, prompting him to give you a kiss before readjusting. “okay my baby, i’m gonna help you sit up before you stand okay?”

“okay.” you nod, already holding your breath in preparation. he gives you his arm to hold as you pull yourself up. he gives you a countdown before pulling you up, moving your legs to the side of the couch.

you hiss in pain as you finally sit up, “you did so good for me baby.” he places a kiss to your temple. he stands, putting a hand out for you to grab.

you prepare yourself to follow him, as you grab his hand, taking a deep breath before pulling yourself up, “ow.” you whimpered before stumbling into him.

he catches you before you can fall, bringing you into his arms. a few tears shed as the pain shoots through your lower back, gripping hyunjin’s hand, letting out a few labored breaths..

he rubs your back gently and your head. rests against him, trying to breathe through the pain. “you’re doing so good baby, you’re halfway there. let me know when you’re ready.” you nod your head, taking one last deep breath.

“okay, i’m ready” you mumble. he turns as you grab his arm to hold as you walk. you focus on your breathing the whole way to the bathroom before he helps you lean against the counter.

“do you think you can stay like this while i get the bath ready?” he asks, eyes filled with concern and worry. you nod, giving him a small smile, “thank you hyune.” you say, bringing a hand up to rub his cheek.

“anything for you my love.” he says before grabbing your hand, placing a kiss to your palm.

you watch as he sets up the bath, starting the water, making it as hot as he can take it before adding the epsom salt and bubbles. once everything was added he made his way over to you.

“i’m gonna help you undress okay?” you nod your head before carefully lifting your arms. he grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, tossing it to the side.

he reaches behind you, undoing the clasp to your bra, kissing each shoulder and he pulls the straps down. “my beautiful muse.” he hums, giving your bra the same fate as your shirt.

you shiver, feeling exposed but the movement once again made the pain shoot up your spine. “ah.” you hiss, taking a deep breath once more. “i know baby, i’m sorry. just a little longer.”

he makes quick work of unbuttoning your jeans, cautiously pulling them down each leg. once they were pulled down, he did the same with your underwear. “okay hold my shoulder while i take them off.”

once he feels your hands grip his shoulders, he taps one leg, prompting you to lift it. he does the same to the other leg before once again tossing the fabric aside.

“there we go, i’m gonna help you get in then i’ll join you okay?” you nod before grabbing his hands once more.

he helps you step in, holding you steady as you sit down. you let out a sigh of relief as the hot water soothed your spine. you lean back, hyune placing a kiss to your temple before leaving you.

he searches through your cabinet before grabbing the massage oil, placing it to the side of the tub. he quick undresses, as you slowly shift forward, giving him space behind you.

he shuts off the water before he steps in, carefully sitting behind you. you go to sit back before he stops you. “hold on baby, i’m gonna try and massage it a bit okay?”

you pout, “but that’s my job.” he shaked his head, dark hair swishing back and forth with it. “not today, today i’m here to make you feel better.” he says before putting some oil hands, warming it up a bit.

“can you lean forward a bit or does it hurt?” you slowly cross you legs before carefully leaning forward. you felt a slight stretch in your lower back, letting out a sigh. hyunjin’s hands lay against your back, thumbs rubbing soft circles.

“you okay baby?” you nod a bit. “i’m good.” you mumble, trying to relax a bit more. hyunjin’s hands glide across your back with ease, stopping at each knot, giving it extra attention.

you were basically falling asleep when he came across a particularly sore spot, a gasp from you. he immediately stops his hands, resting them on your back.

“i’m sorry, baby.” you shake your head. “it’s okay, just a little tender now.” he places his hands on your sides, pulling you back slightly, carefully bringing you to him.

you gently lay against his back, sighing as you feel the hot water surround you from the shift. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer, placing a kiss to the side of you head.

“i wish you would’ve told me it was this bad.” he mumbles into your ear, playing with the bubbles around you.

you lean your head against his, “i’m sorry.” you play with his fingers, stopping his movements in the bubbles. “you have so much going on and i didn’t wanna add to that.”

you felt his head shift next to you. “hey,” you turn your head to him, “no matter what i have going on, i wanna be there for you when you’re hurting okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your head. “promise?” he asks, taking his hand to grab yours, lacing your fingers together. “i promise.” you lean fully into him, basking in the moment.

once the water ran cold, hyunjin helped you out of the tub, and into some comfy clothes. once he got you settled in your bed with your heating pad, he ordered dinner before joining you in bed.

and that is how you stayed for the rest of the night (apart from hyunjin grabbing your food) wrapped in the arms of your favorite boy, feeling much better than before.

jeongin

wc: 1.3k | ss: 1

you were were getting ahead on some prep for your bakery when jeongin texted you. you started wrapping up the strawberries you prepped for the cheesecakes the next day, dating them before going to put them in the cooler.

but as you turned around, container of red fruit in hand, you felt a jolt of pain in your knee before it gave out. luckily you were close enough to the countertop you were able to set the fruits down safely before finding your footing.

you look down and find your knee to find it swollen, fighting against the fabric of your pants. you sigh gently massaging it, hissing slightly as a shock of pain spreads through your knee. you place weight on your knee, finding it stronger than before but still weak.

you carefully making way your way to the cooler placing them gently inside. you turn around, placing your hands on your hips, looking at the kitchen around you, feeling proud of what you accomplished.

you were also thanking your past self for asking ryujin to clean the floors before she left because there’s no way you would’ve been able to. you made your way over to your work station, wiping down the table and discarding your trash.

you turn off all the lights, and headed out the door just in time to see jeongin’s car pull around the corner. you waved and gave him a smile, locking the door behind you. you walked to the car trying (and failing) to hide your limp.

seeing this jeongin immediately parked the car, getting out to meet you halfway. “hi bubba.” you smiled as he approached you. “hi noona,” he gives you a quick hug and peck on the side of your head before pulling away.

“what’s going on with your knee?” he asks, voice laced with concern. “nothing, it’s just a little sore-” he cuts you off. “noona, i love you but if you say it's nothing to worry about i’m gonna lose it.” you giggle and shake your head.

“there’s nothing to worry about, my knee gets like that every once and a while i’m okay.” you smile, trying to ease his concern. “i’d believe that if i didn’t just watch you limp over here.” he says, folding his arms, raising an eyebrow.

“ while i appreciate the concern,” you smile, you unfold his arms, sliding your hands in his, “i promise i am fine, it’s just a little swollen and sore. nothing a little ice and aspirin can’t fix.” you place a kiss on his cheek, moving to get to the car.

well at least you were trying to until your knee gave out once more, causing you to stumble. he catches you before you can fall, wrapping an arm around your waist, “woah! okay y/n, that’s not normal!” he exclaims, helping you stand.

“okay it looks bad but i promise it’s fine, i have it under control.” you tried reassure him, but he wasn’t buying it. “y/n.” his tone was stern and his eyes were worried. you sighed, knowing what had to be done. “i know.” you whispered, looking down. “but i can’t afford to go right now.” he sighed, pulling you into him, placing his arms around you.

“peach, you gotta get this checked out please, you’re making me worried.” you feel a slight sting behind your eyes, turning your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around him. “don’t worry about the money, okay? but we gotta get this figured out before it gets worse.” he whispers next to your ear, placing a kiss there.

you nod, taking a deep breath, pulling back looking at him. “okay, i’ll call tomorrow.” he smiles, placing a kiss on your temple. “okay good, now let’s go home hm?” you sniffle nodding. “yes please.”

he walks you to the car, helping you in the car, closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side. he grabs your hand, placing it on your thigh as he started the journey home. once he pulls into the parking lot of your complex, helps you out of the car.

“we’re gonna take it slow okay?” you go to open your mouth but quickly shut it, seeing the stern look on his face. you grab the hand he holds out, slowly make your way up the flight of stairs, one by one.

once making it into the apartment, you both kick off shoes, making your way into your room. “go shower, i’ll grab your clothes and towel for you.” he squeezes your hand as you part ways. you slowly make your way to your ensuite while he heads to your closet.

you turn on the water, making sure it’s set to warm the ridding yourself of your work clothes. once naked, you double check the temperature of the water before carefully stepping in, making sure to find your balance against the wall.

you heard a knock on the door before it opens, “peach?” he calls out, “i got your towel and some comfy clothes for you, i’m gonna set them on the counter okay?” you hear as he places the collection on the counter. “okay, thank you i.n-ah.” your heart warms at the act, wondering how you got so lucky. he takes a seat on the toilet, taking out his phone, scrolling through a delivery app.

“noona, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, “i was thinking ramen.” you can’t help the smile on your face as you sit under the water. “that sounds perfect.”

you both fall into casual conversation as you finish your shower and he finishes your order. you turn off the water and peek around the curtain, finding jeongin standing with your towel in hand. you reach your hand but he pulls it away before you can. he leans forward, “kiss please.” he purses his lips, waiting.

you giggle, rolling your eyes before giving him a quick kiss, “pleasure doing business with you.” he smiles, handing you the soft fabric. you wrap the towel around you, stepping out of the shower as jeongin walks about into your room, giving you privacy to get dressed.

you quickly dry off, carefully getting dressed, leaning on the sink to put on your shorts. you walk back into your room to find jeongin on your bed with lotion and massage oil next to him.

he smiles as you enter the room, patting the spot next to him, signaling you to take a seat. you make your way over, sitting against the pillows, being mindful of your knee. once settled he moves to sit in front of you, gently placing your leg on top of his.

“which one?” he asks, holding up the two bottles. “uh, the oil, but only a little please.” he nods, knowing you hate the feeling of anything greasy. he gets to work gently rubbing your knee, making sure to not apply too much pressure.

you both sit in silence while he worked his magic. you took in his side profile, taking this opportunity to truly take in his appearance. his soft skin, his boba eyes, his dimples that peak out every once in a while.

he senses someone looking at him causing him to look up, locking eyes with you. his cheeks become a light pink, “stop staring at me, weirdo.” he mumbles, continuing his task on your knee. you gasp in offense, “you're lucky my knee hurts or i’d kick you.” you pout, sinking into the pillow behind you.

he giggles before placing a kiss to your knee, moving to rub the underside of our knee. you hiss but soon relax as he works the sore muscle. you fall into conversation once more, him recounting his day as you relax further and further into the bed.

you end up falling asleep halfway through his story about hyunjin’s cuteness aggression halting dance practice once more. he looks over as soft breaths leave your lips, careful moving and placing your legs on the bed and a soft blanket over you.

placing a kiss on your forehead he leaves to prepare bowls, utensils and drinks for dinner, only waking you once it arrives. he brings it in with all other necessities to help soothe the pain in your knee, spending the rest of the night pampering you and icing your knee.

do not repost

i hope you all enjoyed! i kinda got lost in the sauce and made these alot longer than they should've lol but hopefully they're still good! please let me n ilya know what u think! love u guys <33

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muzansfangs · 3 days ago

Note

Can you do a Bloody Mary with Choso from jjk with a breeding kink ice cube 🥹

if you could tag me that would be amazing, my @ is hauntedchoso but I’m asking on my main blog on anon since that one is a side blog 😅

I still don’t like you.

Starring: Choso Kamo x f!reader; mention to Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, choking, hate sex, vaginal sex, degradation kink, overstimulation, breeding kink, creamipie, enemies to undefined relationship, face slapping, canonic fight but in a domestic scenario, post Shibuya with some narrative alterations;

Plot: Choso Kamo, Yuji’s older brother, never got along with you. He claimed you were nothing but a nuisance. On the other hand, you never really trusted him. You never believed in his sudden redemption arc and it was clear to see in the way you never desisted from insinuating he was plotting something devious. When Yuji needed a place to sleep while moving to his new flat, you did not expect for his ‘brother’ to step into your house too. When you found yourself alone with Choso, things degenerated.

Drink chosen: BLOODY MARY (hate sex, choking, vaginal sex, degradation kink, overstimulation);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were more than glad to put Yuji up for a week. He was caught up in the middle of moving from his old flat to a larger one and he needed a place to sleep and leave his belongings in, while he settled down in his new home. It was not located far away from your apartment, hence his ultimate choice to knock on your door and ask for hospitality. You had heard one of the main reasons behind his decison to opt for a more comfortable and spacious house was the unexpected presence of his brother Choso in his life, however you did not calculate the possibility to find said man standing on your front door with a luggage at his feet and an annoyed expression plastered on his perpetually impassive face.

Swallowing your pride and biting your tongue not to cause a commotion, you had let him in and agreed to let your enemy reside in your living room until him and his younger brother could finally move to their new flat. For the first three days, things worked out, somehow. It was well-known you detested Choso with a passion. You never really trusted him, since you had been the one who had fought him alongside Yuji back then. You vividly remembered the hatred in his eyes, how hellbent to kill your friend he was, only to show up later on and claiming he wanted to help out and protect his ‘brother’.

He was too shady in your opinion and you had suggested more than once to kill him off. Honestly, you had even declared that Ryomen Sukuna was a better company than him. Daily altercations and brutal fights got so frequent and gory that the ever so noble Hiromi Higuruma had set up the rule of not letting you two casually meet, or work together for a couple of months. It helped, strangely.

Nevertheless, watching Choso occupy your treasured spot on the couch, flicking channels dispassionately, you felt bile go up your throat. Your favorite show was about to air and you had no intention to waste your chance to watch it live.

“Move” you started flatly, arms crossed against your torso.

Choso arched a dark eyebrow, tilting his head to the side to look back at the screen. He was downright ignoring you, fingers tapping onto the armrest steadily, whilst he pretended you did not exist. The audacity he had to disrespect you in your own house blinded you.

You blocked his view on the screen, eyes clouded over in sheer indignation “Are you suddenly deaf? Move your ass and give me the remote” you tried again and, albeit your tone was still modulated to take a polite edge, he could tell you were gradually losing your self-control. Typical of you.

He averted his eyes from the small glimpse of the tv your frame granted a view of “Did you say something?”.

“Choso” you coldly stated, taking a single step towards him. You knew he was testing your patience. It had always appeared to you that guy loved watching you get riled up. Considering Yuji had left for a mission, you had no qualms about vomiting your unbridled odium for the rascal taking over your tv.

As a response, he leaned forward, droopy eyes eyeing you bumptiously “Is the german shepherd upset? What is it, Yuji hasn’t patted your head on his way out?”.

Your eye twitched “Did you just imply I’m a dog?”.

“Did I? Actually, you’re not very obedient. But maybe we could test it out. Tell me, is it true dogs bring back the objects humans throw away?” Choso asked you, cocking his head to the side, hand curled around the plastic remote while he seemed so deep in thought, as if he was mulling something over.

You blinked at his provocation, his words leaving little space for you to actually forgive his ignorance and let it slide. If he had a roof over his head, it was because you had kindly allowed him to stay. You still hated his guts and, honestly, all you were waiting for was for him to screw up, make a false step, betray Yuji or another sorcerer so that you could finally murder him without remorse. However, for the sake of your mental health and to respect your friends’s will, you were making progresses in burying the hatchet. Too bad he did not appreciate it.

You turned your back at him, contemplating the possibility to lock yourself in your bedroom until Yuji was back. Actually, though, you did not even make it to the corridor that the remote smashed against the wall at your left. Batteries skimming over the floor, you watched the device completely shattered into smithereens before your eyes. It took you a moment to put the pieces together and realize he had indeed tossed the remote at you, probably hoping to strike you. This was, without the shadow of a doubt, an invitation to throw hands. And who were you to refuse?

“Come on, doggy, bring it back now” Choso taunted you, arms opening in a welcoming gesture as he stood up from the couch.

The moment you locked eyes with him, Choso knew you were not going to be the bigger person and merely report his shenanigans to Yuji. This was your chance to put him in his place and that is exactly what you did, when you teleported yourself back in front of him and stomped your foot over his crotch.

Choso grunted, eyes narrowing as he clutched his hands over his groin in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain. After a few seconds, he had his hand wrapped around your neck and his forehead was pressed against yours to lock you down in a deadly grip stealing the air out of your lungs. The assault caused you to stumble and topple over the coffee table behind you, flapping your arms around to shove him off of you now that you were squashed onto the floor by his weight.

You truly tried your best to push him off of you, but his compact build was crashing you and, consequentially, your movements were restricted. His face was close, his minty breath wafting over you visage sent frissons down your spine and you felt repulsed by your own instict. Choso was handsome, to be completely honest. You hated his guts and prayed night and day for him to combust inexplicably before your eyes. Yet, this bastard was absolutely your type. The punk guy you would throw your panties at during a concert, the perfect match for a messy hook up in the back of a bar.

How ironic was it that you were having such thought right when he had you pinned underneath him?

Huffing in distress, you wrapped your legs around his waist, hellbent to flip you over but yiu failed and surprisingly Choso only pressed himself closer to you. Your clothed pelvis made contact with his crotch, a slight gasp leaving his lips as he applied more pressure on your windpipe. He was getting hard.

“You sick pervert…” you taunted him, despite your current position and blatant disadvantage.

His jaw tensed, hand leaving your throat, only deliver a slap on your right cheek more meant to mock you than actually hurt you. Factually, it aroused you. Even if you were not going to admit it to yourself, he rubbed it on your face “Me, huh? Tell me why your leggins are soaking my pants then, you slut”.

Mortification took you over for a few seconds, before you reached your hand up to grab a fist full of his hair, your lively eyes clouded over in a mix of rage and desire to take your immensurable anger on him. Probably, you were both acting like feral animals. Nor you, neither him relied on rationaly and intellect. This was a matter of power and, for once, you reeled at the thought of baring your fangs and howling like a beast.

“Maybe I had only fingered myself in my bedroom, it’s clearly not for you. — you cooed, a malicious smirk curving your glossy lips as you pulled at his chestnut brown strands to emphasize your words — Don’t tell me you were getting hard thinking it was for you? How pathetic, Choso… Humping me like a dog, feeding yourself a sweet little lie to boost your ego, damn… Look at you” you sneered, watching his face contort in discomfort for your cruel grip on his hair and utter intollerance for the demeaning words you were throwing at his face. If you itched to humiliate him, then he was going to pay you back with an equal treatment.

“What a slut… — Choso rasped out, glowering down at you with homicidal rage flickering in his dark eyes — You fingered yourself like a dog in heat, huh? No one to breed that pussy, all alone, except for the unsolicited company of the man you wish to see in a coffin. Let’s do something about that attitude of yours, huh? Honestly, I was waiting for us to be alone again” he hissed, before pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

Your eyes initially grew round in bewilderment, especially when he began to scramble his hands down your body to search for the waistband of your leggins. Yet, you could not turn down such a chance to make hin whimper, to show him you could withstand anything, while he could not. You kissed him back confidently, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip heedless of his groan of pain.

This was until he yanked your pants down your legs, your slippers knocked away in the process of stripping you naked. With your legs finally free again, you attempted once again to flip you over, but Choso grasped your ankles and pinned you down roughly.

“No, don’t even think about it” he warned you coldly, raising on his knees to get rid of his own clothes.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, eyes trailing down his chiseled pectorals and abs, mentally cursing him for how handsome he was. You could not confess you wished you could ran your tongue on every dip and hard muscle of his body though. You still liked to tell yourself he thought you were just agreeing because you were horny, not because you liked him.

“Instead of mentally fucking yourself on my cock, take off this poor excuse of an underwear you’re wearing” he caught you red-handed. Your cheeks heated up in shame and you scoffed indignantly at him, complying to his request without further ado for the sake of your throbbing need. And his one, apparently, pulsating before your clouded over eyes. Straight as a ramroad, leaking precum on the tip. A drop timidly peeked on the edge, running down the underside of his member.

You acted before mulling over your option and you lounged towards him in a split second. Choso arched an eyebrow, fingers threading through your hair inelegantly as he lolled his head back to suppress a groan bubbling up deep within his chest. Your tongue eagerly lapped at the veiny underside of his cock, tracing the curve up until you collected that salty drop to swallow down before his eyes. You circled the tip, half-lidded gaze peering up at him, expecting him to push you forwards to make you suck him off properly. But instead he shoved you back down on the floor, rolling onto your stomach and spreading your arses to grant himself a good view of your glistening intimacy.

On your hands and knees, you glanced at him from above your shoulder “What the fuck are you doing?”.

Choso did not even spare you a look, instead giving your pussy a slap to send jolts of electricity cursing through your body. You cried out in need, earning a pleased hum from the bastard behind you “You are not worthy to suck my cock. — he replied, lining his shaft to your opening to collect some juices and facilitate his entrace — But I’ll surely pump so full of my cum you’ll soon have to tell Hiromi who made you pregnant” he commented bitterly, before pushing past your folds with a satisfied grunt.

The strained moan you emitted, mortified you. His girth was absurdly perfect for you. Each thrust, each time he rolled his hips against yours you trembled. His words had made color drain from your face, but you soon found yourself arching your back to give him an even better access.

Choso watched in glee your ass jiggle with each thrust he gave you. One of his hand reached down and slided to the upfront of your neck, fingers deftly latching around it as he pulled you up against his broad chest. Your back pressed against his abs, clammy bodies, breathy moans, you felt like two animals. He kissed your neck ferociously, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he attempted to reach his end into you.

Choso needed to stain you. The idea of you, so petty and standoffish, walking around with his seed leaking in your panties when you talked to your friend made him increadibly eager to ruin you. On the other hand, you were too lost into the pressure coiling in your lower abdomen to think straight. His breath-play, his relentless pace and the dull track of pain you felt when he occasionally hit your cervix made you see the stars and the whole galaxy expanding infinitely in the limitless ocean of space. You wished he fucked you less good than this, because there was honestly no way in Hell you were going to forget the pleasure you were experiencing for years to come.

Almost reading your mind, Choso huffed “What is it, bitch? Are you scared from that from this day on you won’t be able to look me in the eyes without remembering how loud I have made you scream today?” he flaunted, as you shot him a glacial glare through your lashes and tears.

You tightened around him, his other hand travelling over your stomach and holding you close to his body “Don’t flatter yourself over a hook up! I still don’t like you” you fired back, matching his tempo to spare the time and doubling the sensation of your walls and his dick continuously brushing together in the overwhelmingly impressive bliss.

When you thought of Choso, you did not think he was a virgin. He had good looks, he was shady enough for some pretty and shallow girl to fall at his feet and give him the regular dose of endorphins a man needed not to spend the night with blue balls. Despite that, you were firmly convinced he was not much experienced, especially in terms of seeking and finding all the sweet spots that could bring tears of ecstasy in a woman’s eyes.

Choso bristled, mouth close to your ear, as he pounded into you with a renewed vigour “Is that so? Then you better not wallow in the false hope that I have outdone myself for you. — he rasped out, shoving you face down again, you cheek making a harsh impact with the floorboard — This is how I fuck. It’s standard, nothing special” he spluttered, his thrusts gradually but surely getting sloppier. Regrettably, though, they were still hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

You gawked, screwing your eyes shut and banging your fist onto the floor in defeat. You were about to reach your climax and your snarky attitude had apparently left your body. Blank mind, your body twitched, until you milked him up and basked in the only good thing Choso Kamo had ever done for you.

He cussed when your spongy walls sucked him in, his seed painting your inner walls white as he made sure to push back in the excessive amount leaking out of you. The damage was done. But no one was a victor, judging by the disheveled hair and bruises on your bodies. Spent, you two recovered from your irresponsible stunt in silence, laying spent and drained in the floor of your living room. The tv casted lights in the dimly illuminated room, setting off your naked curves and his sharp features.

Not only you were a mess, but you also had to clean up the floor from the sweat and fluids staining in, representing the last evidence of the deplorable mishap recently happened. Yuji could not know about this. No one was entitled to have a word about what you two had done. Nor you, neither Choso offered the agreement of not talking about this anymore and to anyone, but sharing a knowing look with him, you realized he was back to make good use of his brain.

Standing up on your wobbly legs, you collected your clothes and gestured to a mop on the balcony “Clean yourself up and wipe away that mess, asshole” you croaked out, heading towards your bedroom in a frenzy.

“Do it yourself, whore”.

You smiled. This was the Choso Kamo you knew.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I have finally finished this fic, help!Since it is also one of the requests I have received when I hosted my event, my joy for having crossed it out of the list is doubled. Let me know what you think about this. As per usual, likes, comments and re-blogs are greatly appreciated!

Love,

Luce

TAGS: @axesfordays @jenntlegarden @cyder-puff @wet-cedar @pin-k-ink @bakugosgirl01 @hauntedchoso @makingtimemine @dangertits97

#choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso x reader #choso kamo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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their80smichelle · 2 days ago

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Thanks for the tag ! <3

Last Song : Right Next Door To Hell - Guns N' Roses (and currently listening to Up Around The Bend - Hanoi Rocks)

Favorite color : It changes everyday honestly but I'll go for purple

Last Book I read : The Dirt - Mötley Crüe

Last TV Show I watched : I don’t remember :')

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: I like spicy food !!

Relationship Statue : mentally dating Izzy Stradlin (single forever)

Last thing I Googled : poison band logo

Current Obsession : Glam Bands from the 80s especially Poison and Cinderella.

Looking Forward to : Not failing my university year (litterally impossible)

Tagging : @d34dsatan @samicoke @justagremlinoncaffeine @duffslut and people who wants to join :)

10 people i’d like to get to know better

tagged by @bubonicbabybell <3

Last song: meat is murder by the smiths

favorite color: orange 🍊

last book i finished: bliss montage

last tv show i watched: supernatural (s12)

sweet/spicy/savory: savory? i honestly dont have a preference

relationship status: single

last thing i googled: stardew valley wiki 💀

current obsession: dead poets society + the sims 4

looking forward to: halloween! and nanowrimo

tagging > @laceyc0bwebs @thelifeofagirl @chiiiiiiiiiiiiiii (i have no other mutuals and am lowkey scared to tag people i follow so sorry this is supposed to be 10)

#tag games

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strang3lov3 · 3 days ago

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Tear You Apart

Roman hatefucks you (2.1k words).

Tags - smut, rough/violent sex, mean!roman, and perhaps dark!roman too if you squint (I’m serious. Don’t underestimate him) lack of proper foreplay (intentional), unprotected piv, spanking, biting, choking, hitting, degradation, bruises, dacryphilia, hatefuck, masturbation, fingering, creampie, come play, fearplay, threats of violence, typical Roman sexism, Roman spits in your mouth, orgasm denial, Roman denies you of some basic physiological needs in maslow’s hierarchy, a singular atom of aftercare, one (1) Depeche Mode reference. Probably forgot some things but if you’re here then you know what you want, and I know what you want, and we both know you’re gonna read anyway.

A/N - received a message from god and i did what had to be done. @cum-a-calla said “k but imagine Roman talking about how much he hates you while being violently railed. swoon” so here’s this. Straight fucking, beginning to end. I love you @cum-a-calla I think you’re just the fucking best 😻🥰 and @beefrobeefcal do your eyes ever hurt from how much I abuse them? Thank you for lending them to me again and again 💜🥩🐛

Roman’s swaying left and right in his swivel chair, nursing a glass of whiskey when you open his bedroom door. “You’re late,” he says, slurring his words ever so slightly. His eyes are bloodshot, hair mussed, tie loosened and his white shirt unbuttoned. Roman takes his silver watch off and sets it down on the end table next to him.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. “I know.”

“You texted 10:30,” Roman reminds you. “And it’s midnight.”

“I know,” you repeat. “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“Better fuckin’ not. C’mon, chop chop. You know what you’re here for.”

You do know; the same thing you’re always here for. Roman downs the rest of his drink, then pours another, and this time offers it to you. You decline politely, a quiet and demure no, thank you with a gentle shake of your head as you take off your shirt. Roman shrugs, drinks that one too. He feels lightheaded.

You shuck off your pants, and Roman takes care to help you with your bra, fingers tracing over the indents it’s left in your skin. “All of it,” he says, smacking your ass, right over that large, rashy bruise he left last time. It was a week ago, maybe. Is that correct? Is that the last time you did this? Roman can never keep track. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re just as hungry for Roman’s violence as he is to inflict it upon you.

You shimmy the cotton underwear down your hips and your legs, now fully bare before Roman. Exposed. Roman sidles up behind you, his veiny hands on your waist. He urges you closer to the mirror and turns you around slowly, admiring the marks he made on you last time. Bite marks, lots of bites, and god, how he loves sinking his teeth into your skin. There’s bruises darkening your skin, though not all are visible. Some you feel instead of see. There’s the odd scratch, maybe the fault of his unclipped nails or perhaps the blunt metal edge of his watch he doesn’t always remember to take off. Roman watches you in the mirror, the eye contact intimidating. He looks like he wants to eat you alive.

Roman presses his fingertips against a bruise on your hip, causing you to wince. It’s an odd shape, odd location too. “I like this one,” Roman says. “Pretty.” It’s a compliment, almost. Almost.

It begins here. Roman separates your hands that are held together, nervously fidgeting with yourself. He takes your forearm and twists it behind your back, pushes it up, up, even higher yet. You can see in the mirror how he smiles, his eyes darkening when you start to wince in pain. “You’re hurting me,” you whine. “You’re - ah, my arm–”

“I know it hurts you,” Roman taunts. “I could break it just like this. Fuckin’ snap it. I think about it sometimes.”

His words make you sick. Make you breathe funny, make you feel all icky inside. He fucking loves it, how your breath hitches in your throat, and how he can feel it happen under his palm. And when you’re afraid like that, you squeeze around him harder, walls pulsing, clenching…

Roman forces you down onto the bed, your face buried in his pillows. You lie on your stomach and he parts your thighs with his knee, still holding you in place, now with both of your arms bent into place. Roman holds them in one hand and kneels at your side, and with his free hand he rubs over the swell of your ass. He parts your cheeks, admires your tight asshole and your snatch. He traces those pretty folds of yours and rubs your clit, listening to those quiet gasps you swallow. He wonders when you’ll - and yup, there it is. You’re writhing on the bed, grinding your hips into his palm. Roman smiles at this. The rules, you’re breaking the rules. “I’m not gonna make you come,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you mumble.

“I’m only getting you wet.”

“I know.”

“Then what do you think you’re doing?”

Silence. Roman removes his fingers from your cunt and spanks you hard - once, twice, three times total. You wail in pain, humming rhythmically in an attempt to soothe yourself of the ache, that awful sting. Roman traces the outline of his puffy handprint on your ass. “You just don’t get it, do you? It doesn’t matter how many times we do this little dance. You never learn who calls the shots. Un-fucking-believable,” he huffs. “I don’t give a shit if it hurts - you can forget about getting wet now. Spread your legs.”

Roman situates himself behind you as you spread your legs, though it’s not enough. Roman holds the backs of your knees in his hands and spreads you wider, the cool air a jarring sensation against your hot, pulsing sex. He unbuckles his belt and tosses it on the floor where it lands with a loud thump. He undoes his pants next, the zzzzip noise slow and loud as the metallic teeth separate one by one. Roman pulls his already-hard cock out and before entering you, brings his palm to your mouth. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you. Spit.”

You lift your head and spit into his palm, and he strokes his cock with it before pressing his blunt head against your entrance. You squeeze your eyes shut and suck in a breath, anticipating what’s to come.

Roman thrusts violently into you, the stretch and the burn causing you to squeal. You scramble for hold on the sheets, the pillows - anything to ground yourself as you take the pain he gives to you. Roman grabs a fistfull of your hair and yanks, “C’mon,” he goads. “You can do better than that.”

Roman pulls out of you all the way and plunges right back into you, harder than before. You bite into a comforter to muffle a sob, the first tears squeezing from your eyes. It hurts, it all really fucking hurts, and each time is worse than the last.

He wriggles his forearm under your tummy and hikes your hips up, Roman on his knees behind you. “Fuck yourself on it,” he says. “Go on and fuck my cock. Show me that you’re good at one thing, one simple thing.”

Following his command, you rock yourself forward, then back again. It’s slow, as that’s all you can stomach right now. The pain hasn’t yet dissipated and each movement, each twitch of Roman’s cock feels like a knife against your insides. The pain is fiery, too intense to focus on anything but.

“Are you even trying?”

“Yes,” you whimper, till rocking, inch by little inch. “I’m trying.”

Too slow. You’re too fucking slow, and too fucking tedious. Roman rolls his eyes, “You’re fucking pathetic,” he spits, words like poison. He takes your hips in his hands and pulls you hard against his cock, his hips slamming against your ass as he sets a brutal pace. “I have to do everything for you. What can you do, huh? Tell me, say ‘nothing, Roman’.”

“Nothing,” you repeat, voice thick with your tears. “Nothing, Roman.”

“That’s right. Don’t you ever forget it, you goddamn useless fucking cunt.” Roman’s nails are digging, cutting into your skin as he fucks you like an animal. “You’re good for nothing but getting fucked. Fucking whore, you’re fucking nothing without me. Nothing.”

You nod, sobbing as he pounds into you. You’re completely powerless, just how he wants you. Roman bares his teeth as he leans over you to wrap his hand around the column of your neck, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks up into you. Roman squeezes your throat, bruising the soft flesh as he bites into your shoulder hard enough so that he draws blood. The coppery taste, the crimson dotting your skin. He licks it away.

He’s choking you. He’s choking you and you’re wheezing, coughing and sputtering as you try desperately to wriggle your fingers under his palm. You succeed in this, or perhaps Roman lets you have a small win - either way, you free yourself from him and crawl forward on the bed, reaching for Roman’s glass of water on the nightstand. With shaky hands, you bring the glass to your lips and take little sips, all you can handle and you’re still spilling onto yourself. Roman glares at you as he gets off and rounds the bed, then takes the glass away from you. “Did I say you could have that?”

“I was ch-”

Roman lays a brutal slap against your cheek, less of a smack and more of a beating. His palm is so sharp it makes you cry harder. Fuck, he loves when you do that.

“Shut the fuck up. You choke if I want you to choke,” he bites. “Don’t pull that shit again. God, I fucking hate you.”

Roman forces you onto your back and spreads your legs again. He enters you just as harshly as he did before, finding that same, punishing, unrelenting pace as he fucks you deep, the head of his cock kissing against your cervix with every one of his thrusts.

You choke on your sobs, hyperventilating as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel lightheaded, numb everywhere but where pleasure and pain flows between your hips. Breathe, you need to breathe.

“Stupid fucking slut. I fucking h- oh, fuck. Shit. I fucking hate you. Jesus Christ, I really fucking hate you, you know that?”

You cry and cry, burying your head into Roman’s pillows to hide your face. Roman pulls the pillows away from you and throws them onto the floor, then grabs your face, digging his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks as he squeezes your jaw. “Hey. You fucking look at me when I use you. Right here. You focus right here.”

Your face is puffy with tears, eyes red and tear-stained, lashes all wet. Roman wears a crooked smirk as he digs his fingers harder into your cheeks so that your mouth opens in a little O shape, then spits into your mouth. “Cunt. I fucking hate you, oh, I fucking hate you.”

Roman pounds into you, hovering over your body to cage you in. You’re gonna feel all of him, and nothing else. He pins your wrists together above your head, his face panting into the skin of your neck as he fucks you so brutally. “Oh my god. Oh, fuck. Fuck,” he moans.

If you focus hard, you can feel his pubic bone against your clit. You follow that sensation, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, chasing that sweet friction. You could come. You could.

“Nuh-uh. Nice fucking try,” Roman half-laughs. “You’re not subtle.”

Standing before you, Roman grabs you by the ankles and tugs you closer to himself. He puts your legs on his shoulders and ruts into you relentlessly, now chasing his orgasm. He could’ve gone longer than this, but he’s not gonna let you come on his cock.

Roman feels that fiery pleasure build quickly in his belly, balls tightening, indicating that release is just moments away. “Ohhhh, fuck,” Roman moans gutturally, hanging his head back as he milks himself entirely, spurting rope after rope of his hot come.

You feel cheated. You feel used. You’re a crying mess when Roman pulls out of you, his spend spilling onto his bed. “R-Roman,” you whimper, violent sobs wracking through your body. Roman gathers his spend with his fingers and paints it over your cunt, lips all swollen and sore with the ferocity of his fucking. “I need you, Roman.”

Roman leans over you, “Go fuck yourself,” he whispers in your ear. “I mean it. Fuck yourself on your fingers.”

You’re completely exhausted. Fucked out. But still, you reach for your center and gather Roman’s come on your fingertips and circle your clit, willing your release along. Writhing on the bed, chasing a pleasure only Roman can give to you. And your poor pussy is so sore, beaten and bruised by Roman. He watches you intently and with dark, loveless eyes, that vein bulging in the center of his forehead. He covers your mouth with his hand and brings the other to your cunt, pushing two fingers inside, gentler than before. He curls those fingers repeatedly as you rub circles around your clit and oh, there it is. You’re pulsing around his fingers, muffled moans signaling your orgasm. Roman works you through it and far past its end, only stopping when you’re a twitching shuddering wreck, a bug flailing on its back. Pathetic.

Roman pulls his fingers from you and shoves them past your lips, “Suck,” he murmurs, then presses his forehead against yours. You lick his fingers, tasting your own release mixed with Roman’s. “God, you’re so fucked up,” he murmurs in a saccharine tone, and the sympathy in his voice sounds almost genuine. “So fucked up. Why do you let me do this to you, huh?”

Roman tags ❤️

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills

@highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @luiscarrutherss @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow @ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh @/always-andromeda

#roman roy x reader smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy/reader #roman roy smut #roman roy x you #roman roy #kieran culkin characters #kieran culkin #succession x reader #succession smut #succession fic #dark!roman roy #mean!roman roy #dark!roman #mean!roman

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2hoothoots · 2 days ago

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saw this post in the tag earlier talking about how we never really get a detailed look inside Maligula’s mind, and it got me thinking about the themes of the game again so I’m gonna use it as a jumping-off point. because i agree, it’s very significant that we never get to really see Maligula/Lucrecia as she used to be! but i think that fact actually makes the game much stronger, especially on a thematic level.

Lucrecia’s presence haunts the narrative throughout Psychonauts 2. at first, we can only make her out through her absence. she’s the seventh stump around the campfire, the missing center of a torn photo. we see glimpses of her in the ruined fragments of Ford’s mind. in Helmut’s mind, she’s a looming specter, a shadow of the friend he once knew. in Gristol’s mind, she’s a celebrated war hero. and as the game goes on, we learn that everything in Psychonauts 1 – the Aquatos leaving Grulovia, the family ‘curse’, Raz running away to camp – all of that was set in motion because of her. she’s at the very center of the tragedy that PN2 revolves around.

and she does haunt the narrative, even if Nona is still alive. because the old Lucrecia – the real Lucrecia – we never get to meet her. she’s long gone.

the closest we come to actually interacting with Lucrecia, as she used to be, is in Cassie’s mind. while the rest of the Psychic 7 only have a few lines to share, paper Lucrecia has a full dialogue tree. this is probably one of my favourite moments in the whole game. there’s an awe in Raz’s face, getting to meet her, but also this palpable tension throughout the conversation.

(screenshots taken from here! if you don’t remember this conversation, or just want a refresher, i’d highly recommend going back to watch it.)

this dialogue tree is great. it’s funny, and subtle, and surprisingly moving. Raz is full of questions for Lucrecia, and Lucrecia isn’t giving much away, but we get glimpses of her story here that are so tantalising. it’s a fascinating window into the person she used to be: coy, and playful, and a little aloof.

but – this is also very clearly not Lucy. we hear Cassie’s own thoughts coming out of her mouth (“Cassie told us [hydraulic mining] was very bad for the environment, but nobody listened to her, as usual”), but her dialogue is also steeped in Cassie’s confusion, her struggle to understand what happened (“I don’t really know [why I murdered all those people]. I was the nicest person during my time at Green Needle Gulch”). this is the closest we ever get to seeing Lucrecia, face-to-face, but she’s still heavily filtered through someone else’s perception.

how much of this is the real Lucrecia, and how much of it is just how Cassie sees her? we’ll never know.

i think a crucial part of PN2’s themes is that perception – how you can be someone completely different to different people around you. everyone has their own version of the story to tell. the most obviously propagandistic is Gristol’s retelling, which comes as a shock twist at a climactic moment that throws the whole game on its head. here, we get to see the other side of the story, from someone who only ever knew Lucrecia as a protector, a general, a murderer – and thought she should stay that way.

(screenshots from here)

but as entrenched as he is in his narrative, Gristol doesn’t have all the answers, either. and Ford’s version of events, while probably more factually correct, is still steeped in his own biases. Ford was so dedicated to the memory of the woman he loved that he did terrible things for her; and when he tried to bury that memory, it was so deeply entrenched in his mind that it broke him.

(screenshot from here)

but note the wording, when he talks about using the Astralathe to “neutralise” the “problematic” parts of her mind. My Lucy.

something else that PN2 touches on is how experiences change you. after the battle against Maligula, the remaining members of the Psychic 7 become very different individuals. Cassie withdraws from the world, unable to return to normality after everything that happened; Compton becomes an anxious wreck without his support network. Bob is broken with grief after the loss of his husband, and Ford willingly shattered his mind because it was what he thought he had to do to keep Lucrecia safe. and throughout the game, Raz helps all of them – but he doesn’t fix them. he doesn’t undo everything they went through, because how could he? the things that happened will stay with each of them forever.

and it’s the same with Lucrecia. even after she lets go of the rage and grief and violence that Maligula carried with her, symbolically severing the threads that bind her to her past – she doesn’t just go back to her old self. because she’s someone different now, too. she’s a mother, and a grandmother, and she loves her family so truly and so deeply. she’s patched together a new life for herself. and that’s what she affirms to Raz, in the moments before the final fight.

and he loves her right back. even after everything he’s learned, she’s still his Nona.

i think sometimes a story is more satisfying for not giving you the easy answers. Psychonauts 2 leaves a lot of things unsaid. it gives you pieces of the puzzle, glimpses of Lucrecia’s story through other people’s eyes, and asks you to draw your own conclusions from that. and then it says: this is who she is now. this is what matters. and personally, i think it’s stronger for that.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #side note it's always very funny writing about the psychic 7 #'cassie was traumatised ford was traumatised bob was traumatised. otto - well actually he seems basically fine'#anyway. here's the latest instalment of my semi-regular pn2 analysis posts #because i continue to have thoughts about this game

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gothcsz · 3 days ago

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part six of the neighbors series. thank you to the anon who sent this angsty prompt for getting the gears turning in my head, hehe. these two are something else, i tell ya. the miscommunication is just so... i am pushing them together forcing them to kiss at this point lol hope you guys like it 🖤 and feel free to send me more things for this little au!

javier peña x f!reader. ~2k word count. nothing too extreme to tag, it's straight up just angst and yearning.

Being with Mateo is nice, sweet even. He calls when he says he will, makes you laugh, and remembers how you take your coffee. And you really do try with him. You take interest in his hobbies, hold his hand when you’re walking down the street, and even let him take you to bed.

The sex is fine, nothing spectacular and just barely above average. Being with him is normal and safe.

But every now and then, your mind drifts to what it would be like if it was Javier in his place. You shake those thoughts off as fast as they come. If you’re going to move on, it has to be for real, not half-heartedly.

It’s a little easier to bury those feelings now that Javier is caught up in something—or someone—of his own.

She’s over at his place constantly, her laugh sometimes drifting through the walls late at night. It feels like they’re always whispering to each other, talking until all hours, and you hate how that little spark of jealousy sits in your chest.

You catch yourself wondering what her name is, how they met, if she gets that look from him—the one that he used to give you when he’d make you laugh.

You pass Javier in the hallway sometimes, and when he offers a half-smile and rushed, “Hey,” you return it with something tight and brief, barely meeting his gaze.

But he’s always in his own world these days, buried in work, and if he notices you distancing yourself, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he’s too distracted to care. Either way, it reinforces the choice you’ve made to keep things this way.

Every time you pass his closed door, you tell yourself you’re doing the right thing. Him being absent is the push you need to keep stepping back, to keep looking at apartments a few neighborhoods over, just in case.

One day, Mateo notices you’re distracted during dinner, poking at your food more than eating it.

“Querida,” he says, nudging your hand, “you alright?”

“Yeah.” You force a smile. “Just thinking about work.” You try to shake off the odd feelings you can’t seem to put to rest—the unease of Javier wrapped up in someone else and it working for him but not for you, leaving you more restless than before.

He’s become a background hum of missed chances and bad timing.

Mateo catches the shift in your expression and rests his hand on yours. “If it’s about your place, I don’t mind helping you look around. Maybe even do a little apartment tour spree together this weekend?”

His warmth stirs something in you, a pang of guilt for not giving him the part of you that’s still tucked away. “Yeah, that sounds nice. I’d like that.”

Javier’s schedule continues to keep him out of the complex and you can’t remember the last time you saw him at the embassy.

Granted, you work in different departments but still, there was enough overlap for you to at least catch glimpses of him throughout the day.

There’s a wall between you two—one he doesn’t even realize is there.

One evening, as you’re walking up to your door, you hear his low voice in the hallway, murmuring something to that beautiful brunette that you feel so strongly against because of your own insecurities.

It strikes a nerve, seeing her leaned up against his door like that with Javier crowding her, his fingers tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear.

They don’t even notice you and that fucking stings, then you remind yourself that you’re being ridiculous and unlock your door quickly, barely giving him a second glance when he finally turns his head to acknowledge you. You just shut your door.

Later, as you sit by your window with a glass of wine, a part of you wishes you could confront him about it—how you miss having a friend even if these feelings you’ve grown for him have tainted your friendship.

But instead, you brush it off. It’s better this way, the distance and silence. Cutting him off quietly.

You have Mateo now, and maybe in time, those feelings you’re trying to force yourself to feel for him will start to feel more real.

In the meantime, you keep Mateo close and Javier at arm’s length, praying the ache in your chest will fade into something easier to ignore.

When things with Helena spiral, Javier’s entire world dips into a darkness he struggles to fight off.

He’d been steeling himself for months, pretending that what he felt for her was just a part of the job, just another way to gather intel, to stay sharp. But things had shifted, unraveled into something he wasn’t prepared for.

She had become more than an informant; something tangible and real, someone he genuinely cared about. He should have known better than to let it get personal—mixing affection with the job, letting his heart get tangled up in a life as brutal as theirs.

It’s in the wake of this disaster that you pop into his mind again. The truth is, he’d forced you out of it completely, buried you beneath his work, his duties, his time with her.

After all, what place did someone like him, wound up in the cartel’s mess, have with someone like you? You were safe, building a life with an uppity banker, someone who could give you things Javier’s world would never allow.

Security, stability, and something close to a normal life—things he could barely imagine anymore.

And he’d see it, too, in the way you were with Mateo. He could hear it sometimes through the walls, that light laugh of yours, the one that’d once been his to hear on a quiet afternoon or over a shared meal. Now it belonged to someone else.

Javier would watch the asshole come by, flowers in hand, gifts in his arms, looking like the kind of guy he could never be, the kind of guy you deserved.

Maybe that’s why he fell for Helena so quickly, so intensely. She was tough, resilient, unafraid of the shadows he’d cast around him. With her, he didn’t have to pretend.

They shared the same night-bound existence and he didn’t care that she was a prostitute. She understood, even when he didn’t, the danger of crossing those lines in his work, the way it weighed on him, without flinching at the blood on his hands.

But now… he’s haunted by what he should have seen coming. She’d been hurt, and every part of him feels complicit.

He couldn’t protect her, couldn’t protect himself from feeling it all in his bones, and the guilt wraps around his heart, squeezing so tight it might burst.

The weight of it pulls him under, and he finds himself wondering how he’s going to claw his way out. His work is far from over.

He's at the bottom of a bottle of bourbon one night when he realizes just how long it's been since he’s really seen you.

The ache that realization brings feels like another knife twisting in his chest. Your bright eyes, that quirky laugh you give when he actually manages to crack you up, and the way you can turn his chaos to calm without even trying—they’ve been missing from his life for months now, and he’s feeling the loss more deeply than he wants to admit.

With sluggish, heavy steps, he staggers across his apartment until he ends up at your door. He knocks, too loudly, too long, until you swing it open, looking bleary-eyed and definitely frustrated. He’s clearly woken you up.

“Hola, cariño—”

“It’s two in the goddamn morning, Javier. ¿Qué necesitas?”

You’ve got your arms crossed, and he blinks a few times, almost impressed with the improvement of your accent. He opens his mouth, trying to form the words, but you beat him to it, eyeing him up and down.

“Are you drunk? You reek of liquor, Peña.” Your tone is flat. “You need to go back home.”

“Te extraño,” he slurs, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “I can’t be in there another second without feelin’ like I’m losing my damn mind.”

You’re sizing him up, at a war with yourself, and he lets his gaze wander even in his bleary state. You’re wearing that familiar robe with a slip dress underneath, and he has no idea if it helps or makes things worse.

“Then you should probably call your girl,” you say, voice cool. “Or go upstairs and bother Murphy. I have to be up early.”

You go to close the door, but his large palm spreads against it, steadying himself. “Javier—”

“Please,” he says, voice softer. “Don’t do this. Not tonight.”

For a moment, you search his eyes, your own gaze conflicted, and then, almost begrudgingly, you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, “but you’re out by the time I’m up for work in the morning.”

You let him in, and he feels that distance in your voice like a physical wall between you. It’s his own fault—he knows it, hates it, but here you are, standing back to let him in anyway.

He stumbles, almost falling flat on his face, and your smaller hands catch him with a muttered curse. Like he’s a child.

You steer him to the couch with an exasperated huff, and even as you help him settle, he’s not sure if it’s the liquor making his chest tighten or the fact that you’re handling him with more care than he deserves.

You wrestle him out of his jacket, tugging it from his broad shoulders, then go for his boots.

The grunts you make in effort, the feeling of your hands on him—even if it’s just to deal with his drunk ass—makes him ache in a way that alcohol only magnifies.

His thoughts drift to places they have no business going. He’d tried to move past the want he felt for you, burying it under other bodies, other names, other distractions. But here you are in a thin slip dress under your robe and all he can think about is how it’d feel to have you moving against him, to finally let his hands roam your curves, bring you pleasure and fuck you like he’s sure no man has. Not even your goody-two-shoes of a boyfriend.

Once he’s settled on your couch, you leave, only to return a moment later with a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table with a quiet sigh. “If you need to puke, please use my bathroom,” you say flatly, “not the new couch.”

“New couch?” he mumbles, sitting up on his elbows and frowning at it. “What was wrong with the old one?”

You just shake your head, the patience gone from your expression. “Goodnight, Javi,” you say flatly, but he stops you before you leave.

“Thank you for this and I’m sorry—”

“Just stop,” you cut him off with a deep sigh. “You’re always apologizing and I don’t want to hear it. Get some rest.” And then you’re gone, the door to your room closing softly but definitively behind you.

After that night, he tries to make things go back to normal but the distance that happened during that time seems impossible to close now.

Every attempt he makes to lessen it only meets the cool edge of your guarded smile or your quick, polite excuses to cut conversations short. The silence between you has settled too deeply now, like it’s found a home where friendship used to be.

He doesn’t know what to do and you’re still stuck in your forced delusion that Mateo is what you want.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️: @persephone-girl . @almostempty . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @samanthajonees . @dontlookatme121 . @thundermartini . @dinanabuu . @cherrysugarx . @dontlookatme121 . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

#javier pena fanfic #javier pena fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader

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foxt-rotic · 3 days ago

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i was thinking this didn’t fit me at all, then i remembered i have to make every decision for my friend group, i am everyone’s therapist, i fantisize about being a pokemon gym leader, im literally going to school to do artist and tour management while i coach youth hockey… so maybe it does.

i don’t really interact with people on here so i don’t have anyone to tag, so anyone can do whatever they want forever

Tagged by @anatargmova ✨

1. do this picrew

2. do this uquiz

3. tag people

LOVE the validation from this uquiz lmao <3 was definitely expecting to get called out but instead it was like youre actually so sexy and cool

Tagging:

@lovewithoutresin @speaknowbuckley @bibellebibuck @joshrussosbff

(no pressure to do this ofc! ^^)

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tkomptgoedluv · 2 days ago

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icantbelieveiletyougetaway.

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, they’re so in love with each other it hurts but can’t admit it, joost just wants to be her everything, angst, hurt, comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,156.

warnings: very brief allusion to drugging, heavy and frequent references to SA, violence, vague mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: in my head this takes place in 2021-2022 when joost had that really short, almost buzzcut like hair? like the wachtmuziek era. also, very sorry this is late!! it’s still only been half-proofread and i’m not even sure i like how i wrote the ending but here she is anyway. i love her and i hope you do too 💋.

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

with shaking hands, you fumbled around the bathroom floor to find your phone. your chest was heaving, the cries that you struggled to keep quiet were getting all caught up in your throat as you fought meekly through the nausea. you wiped at your face again, desperate to clear your vision and leaving behind a mixture of tears, snot, and smeared mascara on the back of your hand.

the room itself was dark, barely lit up by a singular dim, yellow light, though despite the shadows you could still see how everything was spinning. you couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had — it hadn’t felt like a lot, you weren’t a lightweight by any means but you didn’t know how else to explain the state you were in. you couldn’t stand up even if you wanted to, your legs strangely numb to the touch and the pounding in your head made staying on the floor all the more appealing anyway.

face down on the grimey, tiled floor you found your phone laying just underneath the sink. you ignored the low battery warning as you swiped through your contacts, squinting through your tears at the screen as if it would actually help you see any better. you were only looking out for one name; the third out of the four that were listed under the letter ‘J’, and the only name to have an emoji next to it.

over the sound of the heavy, techno bass that seemed to shake the walls and the buzz of a hundred different people all talking amongst each other, you heard the line start to dial. it didn’t make sense to call him out of everyone else that could possibly help you; he was infamously known for never picking up the phone. it was ironic for someone so notoriously attached to their screens, his face typically glued to either his phone or his ipad.

but still, you hadn’t so much as thought twice about it as you clicked on his contact and then the call button. With your head tilted back against the wall and your knees curled up tightly against your chest, you prayed to any god listening that by some miracle, he wouldn’t be busy.

“hallo?”

you let out a whimper at the mere sound of his voice, a small, pathetic noise that quickly turned into a cry that you didn’t bother to stifle. he called out your name for a second time, though now in a tone that was much softer than the one before it.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s late.” you paused to take a breath, your voice having cracked like glass as you spoke. “but i need your help. i don’t…joost, i don’t know what to do.”

“it’s okay, just take a big breath for me.” for just a moment you heard shuffling around on the other end of the line. with each of his footsteps the background noise grew quieter until it disappeared completely, following the sound of a door being shut. “where are you?”

“i’m at…i’m at this house but i uh, i really don’t wanna be here anymore. do you think you could…can you just come get me, please? i’m sorry.”

over the sound of a drum and bass beat that played so obnoxiously loud, you struggled to catch all the whispers from joost’s side of the phone call. there was another voice there, that much you could hear, and you struggled to place it despite how familiar it sounded. you tried to concentrate on the faint muttering, straining your ears to hear it over the song that blared just below you.

but then you jumped when the banging started. a sudden flurry of fists pounding against the wood and making the bathroom door rattle within its hinges. from the deep laughs that followed, chances were it was just a group of guys trying to be funny, probably thinking it was one of their friends getting lucky on the other side. and yet still, you found yourself gasping for breath as you choked back fresh tears, all the blood that ran through your veins turning cold.

“schatje? did you hear me?”

you could only hum back in response.

“i said i need you to send me your location, okay? and then i’ll come get you, i promise.”

it was the moment you figured out how to do so that your phone finally gave up on you. after hitting send, the little map displaying your whereabouts popping up in yours and joost’s text chain, your screen began to freeze. in a moment of panic you managed to choke out that you were locked away in a bathroom before it all went black, leaving you to stare at the taunting dead battery symbol.

you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. in a house crammed full of people, perhaps even a few too many than it was built to hold, you felt alone. just a few minutes ago that was all you wanted, to be by yourself, but now it left you with a ringing in your ears. the absence of joost’s voice was enough to throw you inside what felt like a black hole, where time seemed to slow the longer you waited for him.

you found a brief comfort in watching the time pass on the old, analog clock that hung high on the wall opposite you; you figured it was a better thing to focus on besides the sharp ache between your legs. it helped keep you distracted from the way everything just hurt now, whatever it was that was in your system already starting to wear off. without it numbing you to the pain of it all, you could feel the headache brewing behind your eyes and the sting of your split lip.

with each minute that dragged by, the slow, high-pitched tick of the clock echoing inside your ears, your mind began to slip further and further away. every time that you closed your eyes you could see it happening all over again; you could feel his hands back on you, ripping at your clothes and bruising your skin.

all the tears that you had only just managed to blink away came rushing back, continuing to decorate your face with more long, dark streaks of black. surely, this was going to be the thing to finally break you. there would never be any redemption or recovery for you — he’d get to live the rest of his life without burden whilst this was bound to be the death of you.

the more you unravelled, the more erratic your cries grew with hiccups racking your body and a deep burning in your eyes. for once you found yourself grateful for the music’s mind-numbing volume, though somehow it still wasn’t enough to mask the sound of a soft tapping against the bathroom door. like a coward you froze, failing to answer back before you heard your own name being yelled out to you, followed by a harsher knock.

“hey it’s me, it’s joost. can you open the door please?”

as you steadily climbed to your feet, using the edge of the sink to help push you up, your knees began to shake. they threatened to buckle out from under you with every step that you took, each limp towards the door sending a short stabbing pain up to your abdomen. the sensation made you wince, your jaw clenched and a grip on the door handle so strong that it turned your knuckles white.

it was almost sardonic how despite being in a house so loud, everything went quiet as soon as that door swung open. the music never stopped nor did anyone dare to change its volume, but all joost could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears as his eyes met yours. all he could do was swallow, pushing down the bile that was quickly rising up his throat.

even in the low, warm light of the bathroom, he could see the streaked mascara that painted your face and the bloodied lip that was still trickling down your chin. your favourite shirt, the one that he himself had bought you, was torn and just about hanging off your shoulders. it exposed a trail of black and blue spots that started along your shoulder and went all the way down your arms, a couple even dotted down your legs.

joost uttered your name, his voice barely audible over the music downstairs. the corners of your frown twitched, your bottom lip quivering as you shook your head, already answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. from where you stood he could see you shaking, your knees weak and barely holding you up right. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, an arm locking around your waist as his hand found the back of your head, keeping you hidden in his chest.

“jesus christ, what happened to you?”

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the right words to even try and explain what it was you had gone through. you could only weep into the fabric of joost’s jacket, so exhausted and overwhelmed that you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together in front of him. but it was more than enough of an answer for joost who just held you tighter the harder you cried, fighting back tears of his own.

pulling away as gently as he could, joost still kept you in his grasp. his hands cupped either side of your jaw, calloused thumbs wiping away stray-fallen tears as his eyes danced over your face. with a gaze so intense, you could see his eyes growing sadder the longer he looked you over in the dull light of the bathroom.

“i left stunts outside — he’s still in the car. we could…we should go to the hospital.”

“no!” your own dramatic change in tone caught even you off guard. you couldn’t help it, you were panicking now, pulling joost back by his sleeve as he tried to guide you out of the bathroom. the action made you wobble and almost trip over your own feet, flinching at the sudden cramp you felt deep in your stomach. joost’s grip on you hardened, not nearly enough to hurt but enough to keep you from falling back and hitting your head on the sink. “not tonight. please, i just wanna go home. i’ll be fine.”

“you can barely fucking stand, schatje. you need help.”

“then i promise i’ll go in the morning! but right now i just really need you to take me home, okay? i’m begging you.”

perhaps if joost had a little bit more of a backbone and wasn’t so hopelessly head over fucking heels for you, he would’ve had the courage to say no. he would have been able to look you in the eye and still say that he was going to get you to a doctor, whether you wanted to go or not. but no matter how much he wanted to, how much he hated what you were asking of him, he couldn’t. feeling you trembling in his hands and hearing the fear that shook your voice meant there was longer a single thing that joost wouldn’t do for you.

you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, regardless of all the very non-platonic things the two of you had done together over the years. as far as you were concerned it was just something that you’d do sometimes, only ever as friends. there were never any conversations about it the next morning, never any acknowledgment for what it was you had done the night before; it was almost like it never happened until it would undoubtedly happen again. you always liked it like that though — as long as it meant that you never had to think about how you really felt.

joost, on the other hand, was painfully aware of what he felt about your situation, about you. it was never just sex for him, not even once, and he wanted to talk about it. and he tried to, a couple of times, spending the first few mornings after trying to coax you back into bed just so he could hold you skin-to-skin for a little while longer. but you never wanted to stay and you never wanted to talk about it, either, so joost stopped. he let it become another pain he had to live with and spent each day telling himself that he was okay with that.

it was with only a slight hesitation that he nodded before standing back up straight, slipping his big black jacket off his arms and draping the material gently over your shoulders.

you let joost take on most of your weight as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you back through the house as you focused on just trying to make it down the stairs without tripping. to say that the place was packed was an understatement. people were crammed into every room like sardines, dancing and grinding against each other with stiff, swinging jaws. you hadn’t even heard what it was that had been said over the music, its volume still just as loud and disorienting as it had been when you first arrived.

but joost had heard every word, somehow, despite the sound of his own song polluting the room. it made him freeze on the spot, pulling you to a stop right along with him as he slowly turned to face the group of guys that were standing just in front of the front door. you felt your throat start to close at the sight of him amongst them, standing front and centre with a sick grin plastered across his face, his eyes darting between you and joost.

“what did you just say?”

it might have been the gruff, nauseating voice that you recognised, or maybe it was those ring-heavy hands of his that you could still feel pressed into your skin. you didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because you knew it was him.

“i said good luck with that one, dude. she doesn’t go down easy; kept trying to fight me the whole time.” his stare then fell from joost onto you, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. “but we still had our fun though, didn’t we schat?”

the crack of joost’s knuckles colliding with his jaw was something you heard before you saw it; the thud of him hitting the ground following soon after. a chorus of screams and cheers rang painfully in your ears as you watched a small circle quickly form around you. anyone that could still see straight had either ran from the fight or pushed forward to get a better view of it, their phones held high and already recording.

“bet that made you feel like a man, huh? forcing yourself on a girl half your size. you piece of fucking shit, i should fucking kill you!”

in all the years you’d known him, you had never seen joost like that before; his voice low and angry as his shouts drowned out the music. he hadn’t waited for him to get back up before throwing another punch, the sharp crunch of his noise breaking making you wince and your eyes water.

you went to step forward, your hands already reaching out to grab joost’s arm when one of his friends pounced. a shriek was ripped out from you when a fist struck joost right across the cheek, knocking him into you hard enough to almost send you both tumbling to the floor. any chance for you to try and intervene again vanished when you were pushed back before you could get close enough, joost quickly shoving you behind him as he swung for the other guy.

a strong pair of arms wrapped your middle and pulled you further back as you cried for them all to stop, keeping you locked against their chest no matter how hard you thrashed. distance was put between you and the fight when you were picked up and half-dragged out the door, joost’s blond hair disappearing from sight amongst the growing crowd around him.

the bitter air of the early morning stole your breath, your chest tight and aching as the cold consumed you. small flakes of snow drifted down from the paleing sky, dusting each rooftop and the old, cracked pavements in a thin layer of white. still, there were a handful of people gathered on the house’s front stairs, clad in various leather and latex, that only stood and watched as you were hauled away from the party.

“get the fuck off me! we’ve gotta go back, we can’t just leave him! stuntje, please!”

your feet only met the floor again once you were next to stunt’s car, safely across the street. even from there, you could hear the childish chanting of ‘fight! fight! fight!’ and the occasional glass break from inside.

“martijn -”

“- stay here; i’m gonna go get him.”

you weren’t allowed to argue, so you just did what you were told. for four minutes you sat waiting in the back of the car with the heaters on full blast and still shivering as you nestled yourself deeper into joost’s jacket. after another minute you saw them heading back your way, their pace fast as they slipped past the last few people that loitered on the steps. in the glow of the streetlights you could just about make out the soft shade of purple that was joost’s eye, and the deep scowl that contorted stuntje’s face.

neither of them spoke as they joined you in the car but for joost, you never really gave him the chance to. his seatbelt hadn’t even clicked into place yet before you were turning away from him, desperate to pretend that he wasn’t there burning holes into the side of your head. if joost knew that you could see him staring from the corner of your eye, he didn’t care. if anything, he probably would’ve hoped that it might have made you look back at him, because then that at least would’ve been something.

but seeing joost storm out of that house with a violet eye and raw knuckles, having just risked everything for you without a second thought, it scared you more than you wanted to admit. he was only supposed to come find you, and bring you back home. you never wanted a fight, never wanted joost to wind up with a black eye over you. so no, you couldn’t look at him — couldn’t even talk to him, either.

except your silent treatment didn't last very long, did it? it couldn’t, because joost wasn’t going to let you get away with it this time. for as long as he had known you, you always had this habit of internalising what you felt and shutting down. it never mattered what it was you were going through, you just wouldn’t talk about it.

this time though, he wasn’t going to let you disappear in on yourself again, and he wasn’t going to let you shut him out, either.

as soon as the car came to a stop, joost was up and already outside your car door. with a sweet smile, gentle hands were pulling you up and slowly helping you onto your feet before you had the chance to protest. there was a part of you that wanted to, now too proud to admit that you still needed his help. already, he had done more than enough, even too much, for you.

still, you didn’t dare to fight it — or him, rather. besides a small goodbye to stuntje, no words were spoken as he slipped an arm under your knees and pulled you up to his chest. it was like that, that he carried you up the three flights of stairs of your building, glancing down at you every so often with soft, worried eyes. it was miraculous how he managed to open your front door with you still in his arms, his very own key to your home dangling from the clip on his jeans.

it wasn’t long before the soft leather of your sofa was dipping underneath your weight, its cushion beneath you feeling cold against the bruised flesh of your thigh. joost left you for only a second, just to switch on a couple of the lamps you had dotted around and to dig out your old first aid kit from the bathroom.

you still weren’t really looking at him, not even as he perched on the edge of your coffee table and carefully took your jaw in his hold. the brush of the alcohol wipes along the small cuts that marked your face stung and made you wince, your nose scrunching up at the pain. a string of quiet apologies followed as joost concentrated on cleaning you up, wiping away each and every smear of blood and smudged makeup.

the longer that you sat there whilst joost devoted all of his time and energy to you, the more teary-eyed you felt yourself becoming again. it felt almost…foreign to feel so loved after everything, like you were still somehow worth saving. there was no way that you could possibly deserve it — nothing you could’ve done to deserve having someone adore you so unconditionally without earning it.

and yet here he was, your joost, doing anything and everything to try and help, and you couldn’t even fucking look at him.

the only thing you could do was cry. the way you clutched your mouth did little to muffle the sounds of your distress and it drew back his attention after he turned away only to throw out all of the dirty, used wipes. it was the guilt that was doing this to you, the guilt of knowing that you were the reason why joost now had a black eye. that joost had risked his whole career by starting that fight, and you had been the one to punish him for it.

a warm hand squeezed your knee as another tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. it took a few tries of quietly calling out your name to finally get you to meet his eyes, but eventually you got there. nothing could have prepared you for just how sick he looked, the bags under his eyes seeming considerably darker than before and a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“i’m sorry i did this. i never should’ve gone with him, i know i shouldn’t have because i know that i know better but i still went and i should’ve done something more, i could’ve hit him harder or yelled, and i’m sorry i called you because your eye, that was me, that was my fault and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i -”

with your face pressed flat against his chest, his sudden embrace almost swallowing you whole, you couldn’t find the rest of your slurred, blubbering words. somehow, at some point, joost manoeuvred you both onto the sofa and with his arms around you, kept you curled up against his side. a few fingers moved up the back of your neck to scratch your scalp as others held onto your hip.

it was the only thing he could think to do to shut you up, to calm you down enough to take big, slow breaths, in and out.

he didn’t have it in him to let you finish that sentence.

delicate reassurances were mumbled into your hair, quiet ‘you’re okay’’s and faint ‘it wasn’t your fault’’s becoming mantras that helped soothe the pain in your chest. you wanted to believe him and knew that you didn’t. you knew that as the deep baritone of his whispers slowly lulled you to sleep, you’d wake up with that pain still very much there.

but joost wasn’t going to stop trying anytime soon, noor was he going anywhere. it was one of the few things you’d actually let him do for you, making himself a home on your sofa whenever you would have one of your episodes. he’d sleep there, eat there, work there. sometimes joost would spend entire weeks of his life in your living room just so that he could know for sure you were still alive and breathing.

he was the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort. you could feel his fingers running through your hair as you curled up even further into his side, his voice still low in your ear. it was becoming to struggle just to keep your eyes open, but you knew that he wouldn’t mind.

you could fall asleep just to wake up with that same ache in your heart still there, but joost would still be there too. for now, that was all you needed.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x f!reader #luvvergirlwrites

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