#one time i tried to look up how to dress better and the video i saw was from such an entirely different dimension than me i learned Nothing

[sirompp]

i keep forgetting that people can wear clothes that look good

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 9k

Warnings › face claims. Part 2. Bottom male reader, slow burn, slight romance with Doha. Mentions of body shaming

Plot › Mingi begins to actively pursue you, while you uncover who else in the group still likes you

Kinks › size difference, cross dressing, manhandling, lite feminization, semi-public sex

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male will call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Noona (누나) — a term a younger male will call an older female.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Four years ago

Doha didn’t get it.

You and Hyojin were acting buddy-buddy after one music video. It was strange to him at how easily Hyojin just started calling you “Hyung.” Did you really allow it? You haven’t even been in the group for over two months yet.

The company just plopped you into the group and expected everyone to just fall at your feet.

Well, he wouldn’t.

But he didn’t agree with Yohan’s weird hatred of you.

He and Yohan were walking to the dance practice room. Yohan looked angry, he had been angry ever since you stole the leader title from him.

“I don’t get it. I’ve been leading you guys for four years, how is that Hong (Name) better than me?! Just because he can carry a tune?” Yohan ranted, lowering his voice when he and Doha reached the empty room.

Doha didn’t respond, letting Yohan whine about his frustrations. He took off his jacket and backpack, resting them on the couch. Why was there a couch in the corner of the dance studio?

Who knows.

He plopped down and pulled out his phone, typing away. “You talked about this earlier. It’s been two months.”

“Two months!” Yohan yelled, throwing his bag onto the couch. “Two months compared to my four years! How is that fair?”

“Stop yelling at me as if I chose for this to happen.” Doha rolled his eyes. “We just have to go with what the company decided.”

Yohan groaned, rubbing at his face. Doha glanced up and noticed the door to the studio open, Mingi was walking in with Hyojin to behind him. He was about to greet them when you appeared right after them.

His eyes widens as he glanced over at Yohan who had his back to the door. He quickly tried to signal for Yohan to shut his mouth.

“It’s so strange, what did Hong (Name) sleep with the CEO to get my position?” Yohan ranted, pausing when the sound of the door slammed shut.

Doha held back his loud groan as he watched Yohan look pale, he wasn’t making any effort to look back.

“Seriously, Hyung?”

Doha raised an eyebrow, he had expected Hyojin to say something but Mingi beat him to the punch. Hyojin looked pissed but Mingi had a look of anger that he had never seen on the younger boy.

You on the other hand, didn’t look bothered. Doha looked closer and realized why—you had headphones on. You took off your headphones and smiled widely, naive to the fact one of your teammates just insulted you.

“Afternoon!” You said. “Is everyone here?”

“Kihyun Hyung is coming late,” Hyojin answered, looking back at you.

Mingi kept his gaze on Yohan’s back, tightening his grip on his bag. He raised his hand up and leaned back, before throwing his backpack to hit Yohan square on the head.

Yohan grunted, almost falling to his knees from the impact. Doha winced. Mingi always had the heaviest backpack because of his school supplies. He still went to school at the request of his mother.

The bag fell to the floor as two thick school books slipped out.

“Mingi-Ssi!” You said, a frown on your lips. “That’s not nice, you need to apologize.”

“I’m not apologizing to an asshole like him, he should apologize to you!” Mingi yelled.

“Why should he—?”

“—sorry I’m late.” Kihyun said, entering the studio with the choreographer and a few managers behind him.

Well, things were getting worse by the minute.

The dance practice went fine. The choreographer had to tell Mingi to stop glaring at Yohan. A few times Yohan was even told to fix his movements, which was rare. Yohan never got moves wrong.

After the managers gave the dance practice their approval, everyone was eager to leave. Mingi left first, his excuse was the need to “study.” However Doha knew it was because Mingi would’ve jumped Yohan if he stayed any longer.

Hyojin didn’t even speak to Yohan as he walked past and left with Kihyun. Doha was about to go speak to Yohan when the boy left quickly.

Doha sighed, rubbing at his face. He’d have to try and talk to Yohan another time. Any sort of tension between the group before debut was a bad sign.

Just as he finished packing, he glanced up to see one of the managers had stayed back. It was an older man. He wasn’t their main manager—just one that would occasionally substitute for Dawon or Gaeul.

“Do you need something?” Doha asked, standing up.

“Ah, yes,” the man said, a wide grin on his face. “You dance pretty well but… I’ve noticed that you’ve gained a bit of weight.” He used his pen to point of Doha’s stomach.

Doha just felt himself freeze as the man poked his stomach that was spilling over from the shorts he was wearing.

“You’re probably just eating good for your debut but you don’t want to be over a certain weight. Guys need to watch their weight too!” He laughed, as if this was just a funny joke. “Maybe lighten up on the gimbap or something, I’ve noticed you’ve been eating it a lot.”

“Gimbap is healthy.” A voice cut in.

Doha glanced over to see you. You hadn’t left yet?

Your gaze was harsh as you glared at the manager, reaching over to push his hand away from Doha’s stomach. “You shouldn’t touch someone you don’t know. It’s rude and disgusting. Besides, are you his doctor?”

“Huh…?” The manager asked.

“Are you his doctor? What if he is at a healthy weight? He’s still growing.” You patted Doha on the back. “Weight fluctuates… but even then, even if he was gaining weight from ‘eating too much’… it’s none of your concern. Now you should go, I’ll be reporting you to the HR department.”

The manager squared his jaw. He looked ready to say something before he raised his hand up high. Doha felt himself move before he could even think as he grabbed the man’s wrists just as he brought his hand down close to your face.

“Are you crazy?” Doha yelled, pushing the man away. His yelling seemed to catch a few people’s attention as Dawon and a few other people walked into the studio.

He stopped paying attention as the workers began speaking to the manager as he glanced over at you. His gaze softened at the sight of you, you looked calm for just a second before you let out a gasp, almost dropping to the ground. Doha grabbed your arm and held you up as you took multiple deep breaths.

“Doha, (Name), are you guys okay?” Dawon suddenly asked. Doha looked up to see the manager being carried out with force. “I didn’t think he’d be crazy enough to hit any of you guys.”

“We’re okay. Maybe you guys should look into the people you hire.” Doha spit out.

Dawon rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. I’ll go tell them that. You guys should go home, it’s late.”

As Dawon left, Doha heard you let out a sigh. He looked over at you and helped you stand up straight.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I tried to act… tough but I was so scared. He shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“Has.. someone spoken to you like that?”

You only nodded. “Mhm. But it’s the first time I’ve talked back… it’s easier doing it for other people, for you.” You looked up at Doha and smiled.

Doha only stared at you before feeling himself blush. “Ah.. thanks, (Name)-Ssi.”

“Oh, you can call me Hyung.”

“Are you sure..?”

“Mhm!” You grinned. How could someone be this cute without being cringy?

“Ah.. okay, (Name) Hyung…”

“You’re so cute, Dodo!”

Doha narrowed his eyebrows, “never call me that again.”

“Mhm… Dodo!”

Never mind, he didn’t like you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were pretty sure Mingi was dying.

It had only been four days since your ‘no touching’ rule and he’s been acting as if he’s going through a drought. He was currently on the couch, dead eye contact on the tv as he occasionally let out a loud groan.

He seemed to groan louder each time you walked past the living room to get to the kitchen.

While he was certainly dying—you couldn’t lie to yourself much longer.

You were horny.

Worst of all, you were missing him sleeping with you at night. You never realized how much Mingi touches you everyday. Yohan was the cuddliest but Mingi was on another level—but usually only with you.

Teaching him a lesson seemed so silly now. You wanted him to touch you but you knew he wouldn’t dare unless you told him to or until the month was over.

But… that was embarrassing. You didn’t want to ask. You, the oldest, whining to the younger man to touch you?! Have some decorum!

No way in hell were you going to embarrass yourself in front of your maknae again. No way!

You’d get through this… you would!

“Hyung, are you going to stare at Mingi all day or..?”

You sat up, blinking rapidly as you looked over at Kihyun. He smiled and sat down beside you in the van. The company was having the group record content for promotion for the future comeback. Luckily, Yohan and Mingi were currently holding the vlogging camera.

“I was staring?” You whispered. “I wasn’t.”

“Sure.” Kihyun replied, looking over at Mingi and Yohan when Yohan let out a loud laugh. “Why didn’t Mingi sit next to you? He always pushes us out of the way to sit near you.”

“He does?”

Kihyun rolled his eyes. “You’re so oblivious.” He muttered, looking back at you.

You pouted. “Well why aren’t you sitting next to Jinnie?”

That seemed to be a sore spot as Kihyun immediately tensed. He didn’t even attempt to glance over at Hyojin who was sitting next to Doha. The two weren’t even talking, just listening to music on their own headphones.

“Ah,” you muttered, wondering how far you could push him before deciding to just take his mind off his problems. “You just wanted to spend time with your Hyung, mhm~?”

Kihyun glanced over at you with a raised eyebrow as you grinned. You wrapped your arms around his bicep and pressed your cheek against his chest.

“Hyung wants to spend time you too~” You giggled, purposefully tightening your grip as Kihyun tried to pull away. “Hyunnie~ don’t make Hyung sad!”

“You’re so annoying.” Kihyun muttered, but you could see the corner of his mouth tilting upwards as he fought back a smile.

You opened your eyes and glanced over to see what Mingi and Yohan was doing as their conversation suddenly fell silent. Only for you to see the both of them staring daggers right at Kihyun.

The camera was pointed at you two so you decided to wave, trying to ignore the weird tension for those two.

“Hyunnie, wave to Miras.” You said, grabbing Kihyun’s left wrist and waving it for him. He didn’t pull away and just allowed you to maneuver his hand around.

“I’m stopping for gas.” Dawon said from the driver seat. Gaeul said something too but you couldn’t exactly hear her clearly.

Once the van reached the gas station, Kihyun and the others had gotten out to buy a snack. You stayed in your seat, typing away as you texted your mother when the sound of bickering filled your ears.

“Stop it, I’m the youngest.”

“You can’t keep using your age card!”

“Face it, (Name) Hyung doesn’t even see you that way.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know a lot of things… living in the same apartment has gotten us closer than you can imagine.”

“You fucking—”

The sound of banging caught your attention as you made the move to get up. However an angry Doha walked into the van right after. He sat down beside you, muttering on about something you couldn’t understand.

Hyojin came in after, sitting down in his same spot. Kihyun walked in but seemed to hesitate for a moment. He made the move to sit somewhere else until Hyojin grabbed his hand and tugged him back to the seat.

You watched the scene with an odd sense of relief. Maybe they’ll get over whatever’s bothering them.

After a minute or so, a disgruntled Mingi walked in with Yohan close behind. The two sat in the two empty rows of the van, far apart from each other.

The van had three rows, two seats each. You were sitting in the right side middle row. Kihyun and Hyojin were in the back row, left side. Mingi in the front left side and Yohan in the front right side.

They looked childish.

Dawon and Gaeul came in not too long ago and started the car. The group was heading to the amusement park.

“Doha,” you whispered, leaning in.

Doha glanced over at you, pulling off his headphones. “Hm?”

“What were Mingi and Yohan arguing about? Did a fight break out?”

He rolled his eyes. “Dumbasses were fighting over something stupid. I think Mingi was going to punch Yohan Hyung but I beat them both to it by hitting them both. So childish.”

“What were they fighting over?”

“Uh. I don’t know.”

“Oh.” You frowned, easily clocking that Doha wasn’t about to tell you the truth.

The rest of the ride was oddly tense, well from Mingi’s and Yohan’s side. You decided to leave the two to wallow as you gazed out the window. It would be your first time going an amusement park. The last time the group went was in their second year and you had to sit out because of a family emergency.

Your mother could never afford to take you when you were younger. And even as you grew up, you threw yourself into practicing as a singer and dancer. No breaks.

To say you were excited was an understatement.

Once the van finally reached the location, you were practically buzzing in your seat. You all got out of the van as you took in your surroundings. Dawon and Gaeul was telling you guys something but you could hardly pay attention.

It was more than likely just about what to do for the vlog. Didn’t matter to you, you hardly paid attention to it since Miras didn’t particularly care about you.

As soon as Dawon and Gaeul gave you guys the ok, you practically sprinted away, ignoring the surprised yells of your members.

There was a whole plan that you had since you were ten. You were going to follow that plan to a tee!

First: ride the Ferris Wheel.

Lucky for you, there was no long line. You eagerly got on and sat on one of the horses. It looked a little silly compared to the small kids on the ride but you didn’t care.

Even if the ride was a little slower than you imagined, just being on it was fulfilling any dream you had back then.

After the ride finished, you were a ball of energy as you mentally thought about what your next step was. But you didn’t get far when something tugged at your shirt. You looked back to see an exhausted Doha as he let out a heavy breath.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, rubbing at his face. “You’d think you’re the youngest. What was that?”

You blushed, biting your lip. “Sorry, I got a little excited.”

“A little?”

You giggled in response to his harsh glare. You could hear footsteps from behind him as you glanced over his shoulder. Mingi was sprinting over to you with Yohan right on his tail, somehow holding up the vlogging camera upright the entire time.

Hyojin and Kihyun were walking behind them.

“Hyung!” Mingi yelled, skidding to a stop as he shoved Doha away from you. Doha gave Mingi an incredulous look as you couldn’t help the slight laugh that left your lips. “You scared me—!”

“—scared us.” Yohan interrupted, slowing down as he panted heavily. “Who knew the leader would abandon his members in an amusement park. I only noticed you walking away because of the camera’s viewfinder.”

You grinned sheepishly, “sorry. I’ve never been to an amusement park, I got too excited.”

“You’ve never been?” Mingi asked.

“No. I have a list of things I want to do.”

“I’ve been here loads of times,” Yohan said, grinning. He pointed the camera over at you. “I can show you the best rides.”

Mingi subconsciously stepped in front of you, “no way. You’ll hog him the entire day. I want to spend time with Hyung.”

“Stop being so childish,” Yohan rolled his eyes. “It’s so he can have a good time.”

You sent a swift glare to both boys before they could raise the tension with their stupid argument. You didn’t know what was wrong with them—they seemed to be arguing more than normal.

“I’ll spend one step of my bucket list with each of you.” You said, shaking your head. You reached over and grabbed the camera from Yohan. “I’ll start with Doha. I’ll find whoever I want to hang out with later.” With that, you turned around and grabbed Doha’s hand, tugging him away to the nearest ride.

The others just watched in silence.

“Uh,” Kihyun muttered. “That’s going against the plan of the vlog.”

Hyojin shrugged. “I think a vlog focusing on (Name) Hyung isn’t a bad idea.” He looked over at Mingi. “What do you think, Mingi?”

Mingi pouted. “How comes Doha Hyung get to go first?”

Hyojin sighed and shook his head. “Oh my gosh.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Turns out taking Doha out on the fastest rollercoaster was a terrible idea. He was out of commission immediately. You felt terrible as you led him to rest on a bench.

After a few minutes, Hyojin and Kihyun appeared. Doha looked pale as he slowly sipped on the water bottle you bought him. The camera sat on your lap as you had shut it off as soon as he threw up a few minutes earlier.

“What happened to Doha Hyung?” Hyojin asked.

“I took him on that fast rollercoaster… I forgot he had eaten something not even twenty minutes ago.” You sighed, patting him on the shoulder.

Kihyun looked away as he let out a cough. “Shame… we should probably take him back to the van.”

“Ah, right. I’ll go take him.” You said, getting ready to help him up.

“No, it’s okay, Hyung.” Kihyun said, shaking his head. “Hyojin and I will take him.”

“We will?” Hyojin whispered, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. It’s your first time here. You can’t just ride one rollercoaster and call it a day. Go find Yohan Hyung and Mingi. They were by the food court a few minutes ago.” Kihyun walked over and grabbed Doha’s arm, helping him stand up.

Hyojin helped him as well, looking a bit pissed at his forced aid. “We’ll join you guys later… if Doha Hyung feels better.”

With that, they walked away with a groaning Doha in their arms.

You felt anxious, feeling terrible about putting Doha through that. Deciding to follow Kihyun’s orders, you began to walk over to the food court to find Mingi and Yohan.

Though you didn’t necessarily want to speak to them right now. They were being so childish—it was getting a bit annoying.

You started the camera back up, unsure of what to do. You’ve never solo vlogged. You turned the camera to face you as you smiled shyly.

“Ah… I’m not sure what to do,” you whispered, feeling a bit shy. “I need to find Hannie and Minnie. I made Dodo sick, I feel so bad… I should buy him a gift to make up for it.. but—”

“—excuse me! Are you busy, Miss?” A lady yelled out to you.

You almost ignored her until you realized she was pointing right at you. “Miss…? Ah, I’m not a lady.” You said, laughing slightly. That’s the first.

The lady looked slightly embarrassed as she laughed nervously. “I’m sorry! I don’t have my glasses on right now so I can’t see far away that well.”

“It’s okay… is there something you wanted?”

“Ah!” The lady pointed at her small little venue. “I do a little make up and dress up booth! I was asking if you were interested but since you aren’t a woman…”

“Can I still do it?” You asked, grinning at her shocked face. Ever since the whole Cinderella makeup, you oddly wanted to see how you’d look with a more natural look. The stage makeup was always so heavy because of the bright light they shined on you.

It wasn’t a crime to see how’d you look. Maybe you’d like it.

“Of course, of course! Ah, you young men are so open minded! C’mere, I’ll do makeup that suits your features.”

Since you were vlogging, you had the camera propped up on her desk so it would tape the entire process. Though the editors would probably fast forward or take most of it out to save time.

The lady worked faster than you imagined. She looked on the older side, close to your mother’s age of 56. But somehow she was swift and precise with her strokes of the makeup brush. You wondered if she painted on the side.

After a few minutes, she was done.

“Ah,” she nodded, squinting her eyes as she took in her handwork, “I wish I didn’t forget my glasses but you look good, son. Boys should wear makeup more often. They’d look less ugly.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing. You reached over to look into the small mirror she had on her table. Woah, she was right. You did look good.

The makeup wasn’t overly feminine like the Cinderella makeup but it still softened your features. It was light and almost felt like there was nothing there. Minimal blush and the lightest red tint on your lips. She even put an eyeshadow that matched your skin tone.

The only strong part of the makeup was the wing eyeliner she did.

“Woah, thank you, Miss!”

“It’s no problem. It’s nice to see a man that’s not an actor or model wear makeup.”

You didn’t mention you were an idol.

“Since you’re here, take this sweater, it looks good with your outfit.” She pulled off a baby blue sweater off her chair and handed it over to you. Just as you were putting it on, she placed a headband on your head. “Might as well, they’re the same color.”

You only grinned, handing her a few dollars before grabbing the camera and leaving. While it still felt a bit awkward to vlog by yourself, it was oddly nice to see such a pretty sight of yourself in the viewfinder.

“I only wear makeup for photoshoots and performances… maybe I should wear it more casually.” You muttered, grinning slightly. “Would that be weird?”

It only took a few more minutes before you reached the food court. You glanced around, wondering if you might have to call them when a hand tugged at your sweater.

You looked back and grinned when you came face to face with Mingi. He looked particularly angry until he saw your face. Whatever he was pissed about was long gone as he stared at you with his mouth agape.

You turned the camera to face him and grinned, “Found Minnie. What do you think? A lady stopped me and I decided to let her do my makeup. I kinda like it.”

Mingi only let out a little grunt as he gulped. “Mhm.”

“Mhm..? What? Do you hate it?”

“No!” He yelled, catching the attention of a few guests. “Uh, I mean… it’s nice.. it’s not too much. It really suits you.”

“Thanks, Minnie. I don’t think I’ll wear it daily but maybe sometimes.” You giggled. “Anyway, where’s Yohan?”

At the mention of Yohan, Mingi fought back the urge to roll his eyes. You frowned, wondering if they must’ve fought again. And if there was no one there to stop them—it must’ve gotten bad.

“I don’t know.” Was all he said, shaking his head. “Let’s just hang out.” He reached over and grabbed the camera, turning it off. You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

“But we have to film.”

“I don’t care. I’ll take the fall from Dawon Hyung and Gaeul Noona.”

“Minnie, are you okay?”

Mingi glanced around before he grabbed your arm, tugging you away to a corner away from curious eyes. You almost forgot about how he wasn’t even supposed to be touching you right now.

He pressed you against the wall of the hidden corner, a dumpster hiding you both from anyone who peeked into the mini alleyway between the small food courts.

“Hyung.” Mingi whispered, his hands gripping your shoulders as he released a strangled groan. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what anymore?”

“I can’t let Yohan Hyung keep thinking he has a chance with you.”

“What…? Hannie? What do you mean, Minnie?”

“If I want our relationship to work, I have to be honest.” He whispered to himself before gazing over at you. “Yohan Hyung was the person who refused to my request back on my nineteenth birthday.”

“Wha…”

“Everything was okay until he started pursuing you for real. No one told you this, but when we were choosing our roommates, Yohan Hyung and I got into a huge argument about who would room with you.”

“Argument? Oh my gosh, Mingi, why are you guys so childish?”

Mingi frowned. “Yeah, I know… but we ended up letting you choose and after you chose me, he’s been a bit pissy over it.”

“Choose you? How’d I do that?”

“Oh uh, remember when Doha Hyung asked if you’d prefer me or Yohan Hyung cooking you dinner. You said me.”

You blinked. “That’s so stupid. Who came up with that?”

“Doha Hyung because he got tired of us arguing.”

“Of course.” You sighed, shaking your head. “But this is so silly, Mingi. You two can’t be fighting over me like this. It’s not good for the groups dynamic.”

Mingi nodded, signing. “I know. I wanted to apologize but he made me angry again so I fought back.”

“Mingi… that’s not right. You should apologize to him.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue but decided against it. Mingi rest his head on your shoulder as you flinched. It had been a minute since Mingi has been so close to you that this light contact was sending you over the edge.

It seemed he could tell as Mingi let out a laugh, his lips teasing your collarbone.

“Hyung… there’s something else I can’t do anymore.”

“W…What…?”

He slowly pulled away as he held your gaze. Never in your life did you think being stared at like you were a piece of meat could be hot… but you felt a rush of adrenaline in your body from his gaze.

Mingi didn’t say anything his hand slowly reached up and grasped your cheek, gently rubbing the skin. You almost closed your eyes at the touch when lips slammed against yours. Your head knocked against the wall but you didn’t even get a minute to properly react to the pain.

He kissed you as if you were his lifeline. His free hand moving down to grab your jeans, unbuckling it. You reached up and grasped the collar of his shirt but you made no effort to push him away. Your lips followed his as he bit and tugged at your bottom lip, earning a gasp from you.

His tongue slipped in with ease as the kiss entered a new territory you didn’t know. Your eyes felt watery as you whimpered into the kiss, beginning to remember you weren’t exactly in the privacy in your own home.

But he didn’t pull away, his hand slipping into your boxers as he grasped your cock. Your hips stuttered as you let out a muffled cry. Maybe it was a good thing he was kissing you.

He pumped your cock with a quick rhythm, not wanting to drag out the quick handjob. You appreciated it but also wanted him to stop as your moans were swallowed into the kiss.

Your back arched against the wall as your eyes squeezed shut. The pleasure was too much—you wondered if this was what pleasure was like. Or if only Mingi could make you feel this way.

You cummed into the palm of his hand, nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself. He didn’t pull away, kissing you as if he was stealing your oxygen. When you began to tap at his back is when he finally got the message to let you breathe.

A large gasp left you as you took a few greedy breaths, taking in the fresh air. Mingi didn’t say anything as he pulled out his hand from your jeans. His hand was coated in your cum as you stared up at him in embarrassment.

“Mingi—”

Your eyes widen as you watched him bring his palm to his mouth. With his gaze zeroed in on you, he stuck his tongue out and licked his palm clean off. He didn’t leave any trace behind as he showed you his clean hand.

You felt as if you’d faint.

“You taste sweet, Hyung.” Mingi grinned, a smirk pulled on his lips. His blonde hair fell into his eyes as he leaned down and captured your lips into another kiss. You didn’t even attempt to push him away, eagerly kissing him back. Your hands tangled themselves into his hair as he pressed your body against the wall with his own.

His hands reached down and grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you released a moan into his mouth.

You almost forgot all about your surroundings when the sound of a kid crying startled you both. Mingi immediately pulled away as he peaked over the garbage bin. Coast was clear, but that was way too close.

Mingi helped you back to your feet as you tried to fix your jeans. Your face felt warm—you couldn’t look Mingi in the eye at all. He let out a slight huff before grabbing your face, forcing your face up.

“Hyung,” he said, before his voice trailed off. His gaze widening. “Oh shit… you can’t go out there like that.”

You blinked. “What’s wrong?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, turning on the camera. Mingi handed over his phone as you cautiously took it. Your eyes widen immediately when you caught sight of your face.

To say you looked like you were just fucked was an understatement. Your lipstick was smudged, blush almost gone from the tears. Even worse, the eyeliner had leaked and trailed down your cheeks, creating a dark stain.

Any one would understand what happened with just one glance at you.

You looked over at Mingi and noticed that there was lipstick on his lips but it looked a bit more natural on his face. Okay, he could get you some wet wipes so you don’t embarrass yourself to complete strangers.

“Go get me some wet wipes.. hopefully I can take some of it off.” You muttered, noticing that Mingi wasn’t making an effort to move. “What’s wrong?”

Mingi bit his lip, “I think I want to fuck you while you wear makeup.”

“Choi Mingi!”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Two years ago

“That’s a perfect birthday present for Mingi. He’ll love it, Hyung.”

You glanced up to see Kihyun standing behind Yohan. Yohan was still holding the vlogging camera before turning to face Kihyun.

“Perfect present?” You asked, moving to sit on up. “What is? I bought him a guitar…” your lips pulled into a frown.

“You bought him a guitar?!” Yohan yelled, mouth agape.

Kihyun rolled his eyes. “You are so oblivious. I meant you being on your knees.”

“Why would Mingi like that?” You whispered, genuinely confused.

“Forget it.” Yohan quickly said, “let’s just focus on getting the party ready.”

“What party?”

You all looked back to see Mingi entering the apartment.

Fuck.

After a few seconds of panicked silence, a rushed Doha and Hyojin appeared behind Mingi. They looked stressed out and you could easily tell their plan to keep Mingi away from home didn’t work at all.

The whole surprise party was a dud.

Mingi sat on the couch as he just watched everyone else continue to set up. You excused yourself to go get the cake when Mingi finally sat up, grabbing the vlog camera. He turned it off much to the other’s confusion.

“I need to talk to you guys about something.” He said.

“Without (Name) Hyung?” Hyojin asked.

“Yeah. It’s about him.” Mingi said, waiting for the members to stop what they were doing so they would listen. “I know each of you liked (Name) Hyung. Even if it’s to different degrees.”

The others glanced at each other, not seeming too shocked at Mingi’s revelation. It wasn’t exactly a secret. Even Dawon and Gaeul noticed. It was mainly you being absurdly oblivious to have not noticed by now.

“So?” Kihyun finally asked, “are you worried you have competition?”

“No.” Mingi glanced up, his face devoid of any doubt. “Because I know (Name) Hyung will return my feelings. So, I wanted to let you guys know… or ah, ‘ask’ if you could not pursue him.”

Kihyun shrugged. “Okay.”

Doha rolled his eyes. “So cocky. Fine, whatever.”

Hyojin looked hesitant before sighing. “I miss when you were scared to even upset us. But okay, I wasn’t going to confess anyway. But if you treat (Name) Hyung wrong, I’ll take him from you.”

Mingi nodded, smiling slightly. “The best birthday present you guys could give me.”

Kihyun grinned. “Ah good. I’ll return the other one so I can get my money back.” He chuckled, enjoying the sudden change in expression on Mingi at the mention of his present.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Doha groaned. Kihyun muttered a quick prayer and took a step away from Yohan. Hyojin shook his head, moving to grip Mingi’s shoulder as a way to keep him standing up.

Yohan raised an eyebrow, “huh? Will you try to stop me? How can you be so sure (Name) Hyung will want someone he sees as a kid?”

“A kid? You little—!”

“I’m back!”

The tension immediately diminished as you burst through the front door. You were bundled up in your coat and scarf, little snow on the top of your nose. Your beanie was rolling down, almost covering your eyes.

“I got red velvet, your favorite.” You walked over to the living room and tilted your head. “Something wrong?”

Yohan and Mingi glanced over at each other.

“No. Nothings wrong.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

To say that you were nervous around Mingi was an understatement. You practically felt hot whenever he even brushed up against you. The make out two weeks ago made you see Mingi in a different light. A light you’d never imagine for your maknae.

After the whole amusement park debacle, Yohan and Mingi seemed to have made up.

Or at the very least were hiding any fights they were having from you.

Today, the company had did a pre-album fan meeting. Strange, but you knew they were trying new things.

Each member prepared a short little performance to do as their entrance. Although Gaeul definitely had a hand on which songs for each member.

Gaeul chose Rainism for Yohan.

Bambi for Kihyun.

Any song for Doha.

Deep for Hyojin.

Peaches for Mingi.

Hyojin performing a female solo artist song got a few laughs from Doha. Though Yohan was quick to beat him. You had wondered what Gaeul would pick for you but she actually told you she had too many options.

She had given you a few popular male solo artist songs but you decided to pick the one female artist she had on her list. You mainly did it for Hyojin—so he didn’t feel left out!

But also….

Each member would be dressed up in outfits for the performance that the original artist had.

After the vlog had been uploaded, you had a lot of Miras affirm that you looked good in more feminine clothing. While a younger you might’ve viewed this as an attack on your “manhood” you now viewed it as a new way to express you.

What better excuse to dress up feminine was to perform a female artist song?

You decided on 24 hrs by Sunmi. Why not? The outfit she performed in wasn’t too much, some would argue it wasn’t overly feminine.

A perfect start. You didn’t think you’d be ready to wear skirts or dresses. While you did like the Cinderella dress… it was a cheaply made costume.

Wearing real women’s clothes felt like a big step, especially in public.

You winced as the hairstylist used another clip to get the wig to stay down. It was a short pink bob. You were once again the last one to get dressed.

Gaeul stood not too far away, a wide grin on her lips. “Aaah!!! You look so cute! I’m so happy you’re experimenting with your style! Oh, and, you’re getting some attention from women now, after the vlog. They’ve overtaken the gay men.”

“Re—?” You groaned as the hairstylist gripped your face and turned your head back to face the mirror. “Sorry.”

“Yeah!” Gaeul said. “I mean female fans are always the best anyway! But they love how open minded you were. They even started recommending certain clothing you should try! Ah, I’m sure by next year, you’ll get your own offer in modeling photo shoots!”

“Like Mingi?”

“Keep your head straight.” The hairstylist said.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, like Mingi. See, I told you! You just had to find your audience. If only the company didn’t take so fucking long to stop advertising you as a stoic man.”

When the hairstylist was finally finished, you got up, eager to see what you’ll be wearing. The other members were already backstage, probably starting to perform.

The outfit was similar to the black and white one piece from the video. It was a black and white stripped turtle neck. Close enough. The bottom wasn’t connected to the top. It was a pair of short black shorts.

And no shoes, because she didn’t wear any.

You pulled on the outfit, making sure to keep your new hairdo safe.

“Hm, I think this is a woman’s turtle neck.” Gaeul said, helping you fix the collar. “I’m pretty sure I saw my mom wear this same brand.”

“Oh.” You pursed your lips. “I don’t look like a grandma… do I?”

“Hey, my mom is fashionable. Besides, she’s not a grandma.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do I… look weird?”

“Getting second thoughts? These shorts might hug your butt a little too much.” She pulled the shorts down just a bit to properly cover your ass. “You look cute. You always wore the more revealing clothing anyway.”

“Yeah…”

“What made you want to try feminine clothing?”

“Uh.” You shrugged, glancing over in the mirror. The makeup was similar to the one the older lady did at the amusement park but a bit more heavy. You looked more feminine this way, maybe someone could confuse you for a girl. “Just trying something new… my sister used to dress me up back then so maybe I actually did like it a lot.”

“Ah. Your sister groomed you into appreciating feminine clothing.”

“Uh, I don’t think you should say it like that.”

“(Name).” Dawon called out, opening the door. “It’s almost your turn. Let’s go.”

You gave Gaeul a tight grin and walked away. The performance was easy, you were only doing the first minute of the song anyway.

Performing by yourself for practically most of your teens made you fearless almost. The performance was done before you noticed. You walked off stage right after and let out a sigh, feeling a bit cold now.

“You were great, Hyung.” Kihyun said, smiling at you. He seemed to be the only other member backstage for some reason. Staff members walked onstage and began to set the tables up for the individual fan meeting.

You’d all sit at the table as a person talked to you for thirty seconds to get their album signed and move to the next member. It was quick and easy, Gaeul ran meetings like this like the navy.

“Where’s everyone else?” You asked, reaching up to poke Kihyun on the nose. He playfully sneered at you, pretending to bite your finger. “Are they already changing?”

“Sure, let’s say that.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s go change.”

He grabbed your hand and tugged you to the changing room. You followed behind him, wondering if something happened. But decided against worrying if you had no proof of anything happening.

The next outfit was just “regular” clothing. Mainly, clothing from name brands that wanted a member to promote them. You, unsurprisingly, didn’t have any brand that particularly wanted you so you just wore more average clothing.

However, the outfit looked a bit… different than usual.

It was a brown sweater jacket with a burgundy shirt. Most surprising was the brown jean shorts.

You just shrugged and put them on. Everything but the jacket looked like they were men’s clothing. Maybe Gaeul added the sweater as an extra.

“Ah, should I take off my wig?” You asked, glancing back at Kihyun who had changed into his own clothing.

“Won’t your hair underneath be messy? It’s not like we’re taking off our makeup, just keep it on.” He said.

“Ah. Okay.”

After changing, you and Kihyun left to see the others had reappeared. Mingi and Yohan looked particularly upset. You mentally sighed and shook your head, not even attempting to wonder what the fuck just happened between them.

The staff member guided the group back on stage to sit at the table. You sat at the end, grabbing the pen one of the staff members held out for you.

There was a sound of screeching before someone plopped down beside you. You glanced over to see Mingi acting nonchalant as Yohan grumpily sat down on Mingi’s right.

You were about to ask what just happened when the first fan was already starting.

Everything went into motion. Not to your surprise, a few fans didn’t even stop to get your autograph or not even use the full thirty seconds or one minute to even exchange dialogue with you.

Whatever.

Before you could even properly be angry, someone sat down in the seat across from you. You glanced over and smiled, the first time someone sat down since the almost full hour.

“Hong (Name)-Ssi.” The boy looked to be around Kihyun’s age. He looked shy before he handed over his album. “I’ve liked your work for a while now. But only today have I’ve been able to come to any of your Miracle work.”

“Miracle work?” You asked, signing your name. “What do you mean?”

“Ah!” He bit his lip. “I’ve been following you since pre debut! I went to your high school… but uh!! I’m not a sasaeng!! I’ve never tried to find out anything personal about you… but I do follow your mom… she posts so much stuff about you.. but I can stop if that makes you uncomfortable… I just—!”

You grabbed the boy’s hands that began flapping around. He stared over at you in shock, mouth agape as you gave him a wide grin.

“Really? You’ve been into my work for that long?” You couldn’t help but giggle. “That’s so nice.. I’m really happy. What’s your name?”

“Oh! Kim Pilseung! I never talked to you directly… I was too shy..” he admitted, gazing down at your hands that clasped his. “Your hands… are really small.”

You glanced down and noticed that he was right, your hands hardly covered his. “Oh. Hehe, I guess so.”

“And soft. Do you use gloves while working out?”

“You noticed?” You let out a giggle, pulling your hands away as you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “I do. I like having soft hands.”

“Woah.” Pilseung smiled. “My hands are rough. I try moisturizing but it’s a bit too late now.”

“Please move forward.”

“Ah.” Pilseung moved to grab his album. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold up the line. Thank you so much, Hong (Name)-Ssi.”

“Hyung… you can call me Hyung.”

Pilseung gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at you. “H…Hyung?!”

“Mhm. You’re not a stranger.” You reached over and wrote a number in his album. “I trust you won’t share it.”

“O..Of course!!! You’re so cool, (Name) H..Hyung! I.. I didn’t want to tell you before but..! Your past performance with your past group… it really meant something to me when you didn’t view love between two men as something disgusting…”

“Past performance? Woah, you really are a pre debut fan!” You grinned, standing up just as Pilseung did. “Why didn’t you reach out before… it would’ve meant a lot to know that you’ve followed me for this long.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t think you’d care… but! I’ll be more vocal now, Hyung!!” Pilseung bowed his head, ready to leave when you grabbed his arm and stepped over to his side of the table. He stared at you in shock as you hugged him tightly.

Everyone else in the room looked over at the display in shock. You knew it was over the top to do this…

But honestly, you didn’t care.

For four years, you thought you were in a group with fans that wouldn’t even notice if you left. Even before that, doing past performances to get attention for your dream to be an idol.

You thought you only had your mom and your sister as your fans.

But to think that to every performance your mom and sister went to, Pilseung was also there. To think that maybe there were even more people that did admire you, that this singing was not for nothing…

You pulled away after a second, smiling at Pilseung. At least he was your height. Pilseung looked red in the face as he tried to say something but only a weak “thank you” left his lips. He quickly bowed and walked off stage.

You ignored the stares of everyone else to look at Mingi.

He didn’t look too happy to say the least.

Ah, you’d get it at home.

For fuck sakes.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Y’know, when you got home, you thought you’d have to deal with a temper tantrum from Mingi. Never in your life did you think you’d be in Mingi’s lap as he fingered you.

You couldn’t even remember how it happened. The two of you got home without talking. Mingi had even went straight to his room first. You thought maybe he’d talk to you in the morning so you decided to shower and go to bed.

Only for you to come into the room after showering to see Mingi sitting on your bed.

Then you ended up here, legs spread as he curled two fingers inside of you, brushing against your prostate. Your body tensed as you let out a whimper, biting your lips to keep your voice down.

“Hyung…” Mingi finally said, resting his chin on your shoulder as he paid more attention to his fingers than your trembling body in his lap. “I know why you did it… you’ve been wanting attention for awhile and Miras just aren’t smart enough to truly appreciate you.”

His fingers curled inside of you, repeatedly rubbing the edge of your prostate. “But did you forget what I said? You don’t need them—you only need me.”

You bit your lip as you gripped at the bedsheets beneath you. Your cock was already leaking and ready to burst. It only took another graze against your prostate when you gasped, cumming against your stomach. You thought he’d pull away now but he didn’t.

No, he kept going. He now began to rub directly on your prostate, his free hand grasping your cock. You let out a whine as your body began to shake from the unknown feelings. No matter the fact you’ve only touched yourself like this before.

It wasn’t him fingering you—you’ve done that many times before.

But it was continuing.

“Mingi.. Mingi stop!”

Mingi quickly pulled away, grabbing your towel as he rubbed the cum coating your stomach. “Are you okay, Hyung? Did I hurt you?”

“No.. I just… I was just..” You sighed, allowing Mingi to pull you to lay down, resting your head on the pillow. “I got scared.. I don’t know why.”

“It’s my fault. I didn’t talk things out with you… you’ve celibate since forever so you don’t know how relationships work. I’m sorry, Hyung.”

“Relationships? Isn’t this… just a sexual relationship?”

Mingi glanced over at you, “sexual relationship? Hyung…” He moved to sit beside you. “This isn’t a sexual relationship. I love you.”

You sat up, staring at him in shock. You didn’t expect him to say it that time that you didn’t get to stop him. Your face felt red as Mingi only grinned. He leaned in and pressed a kiss on your lips.

As he pulled away, you didn’t know what to do. This whole relationship was going against what you believed was right. You as the Hyung and Mingi as the maknae. But Mingi didn’t want that—so who were you to force him into a brotherly relationship?

And deep down, you knew that you couldn’t view him platonically anymore. You haven’t tried hard enough to push away because you wanted it, even if your brain was saying no.

You leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. When you pulled away, you almost giggled at the shocked look on Mingi’s face.

“I can’t say it right now… but… I’m willingly to try…”

Mingi looked almost relieved as he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss on your forehead. You cuddled him back, burying your face in his neck. The two of you stayed close before he pulled away.

“Now that we’re dating—can I buy something for you? Like a dress maybe..? I don’t want you to be a girl… but I like you being feminine.”

You bit your lip. “Really?”

“Yeah. I want you… to maybe be my Noona… How does that sound?”

“Mingi..!” You whispered, giving him an incredulous look before looking away. “Just… once.”

Mingi only grinned before pulling away. “Well, I gotta go to tell Yohan Hyung to fuck off now.”

“Mingi!”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Four years ago

Mingi didn’t think someone like you could cry. But here you were, crouched down in the corner of the dance practice room. He was here late to practice—against his mother’s wishes.

The first performance for the group’s debut song was tomorrow and he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t scared. He was nervous. Even if the company said he didn’t need to sing live—he wanted to. Sure dancing was important, but he wanted to show off how good he was at singing.

So he had came to practice live singing again just before the performance but then he saw you.

You didn’t seem to notice him for a second until his shoes squeaked against the floor. Your head shot up as you looked over at him and frowned.

The two of you haven’t gotten as close but Mingi could say that you were getting there.

“Mingi-Ssi…” you whispered, your voice cracking as you rubbed at your face. “Do you.. hate me?”

Mingi stared at you in shock. If only you knew that not even two days ago he found your mother’s account and immediately followed it. He liked every post that had to do with you.

But he guessed he wasn’t showing it… maybe… maybe he wasn’t viewing the relationship like you were.

He sighed and walked over to where you were, kneeling down. “I don’t hate you. I’m sorry, I know I was hostile before…”

You frowned as if you wanted to say something but stopped yourself.

Mingi knew he had to be honest. “I didn’t hate you… I was scared.” He whispered, glancing down at his hands. “I had to constantly prove to my parents that being an idol was a serious job that I tried my best to get into bigger companies but I kept getting rejected.

“After so many rejections my parents said I only had one my shot and after that I had to give up… I tried for this company and when they called me back I’m pretty sure I threw up. Ever since I just kept doing my best so they could debut me as soon as possible… and I guess when you got added to the group last minute… I got so scared.. so scared that they could kick me out last minute.

“I… I shouldn’t have taken it out on you but you’re so good, Hong (Name)-Ssi! You’re better at singing at me and I… I didn’t want the company to see my flaws when put against someone like you. I—!”

Mingi froze when he felt arms wrap around his neck. He then realized he was crying. He felt his throat burn as he buried his face in your neck and began to cry. You tugged him even closer, rubbing his head as a form of comfort.

He sat there, in your arms, for possibly close to an hour before you pulled away. You wiped at his face as you gave him a smile.

“Really…? That’s it?” You whispered, “I can teach you, Mingi-Ssi… I can teach you everything I know so you can be on the same level as me.. but honestly, I think you’re cool as is.”

Mingi blinked, staring at you as if you just confessed your love for him. He felt himself about to cry again as you giggled.

“Can… can I call you Hyung…?” He muttered.

You nodded. “I was waiting for you to ask, Minnie.”

The two of you stayed in the practice room for a bit longer. He didn’t end up practicing that night, just snuggled up to you as you both took a nap in the corner of the dance studio.

But Mingi would soon wonder… if you thought Mingi was cool… he couldn’t have been the person to make you cry. It wasn’t like he technically ever did anything wrong to you.

Who were you crying over?

And why did Mingi have a feeling it had to do with a certain someone.

Park Yohan.

I love writing Mingi. He’s fun. Anyway, yall gonna see into the mind of Yohan in part 4, yall ready? Gonna go heavy into more feminization in the next part, so if it’s not your thing… you gotta end it here now lol

Tag list: @euthymiko @iwishtobeacrow @onementally-unstabel-kid @jaxyy219 @hoshimochicchi @honey-valentin3 @bensontrechic @ofclyde @star-3214 @tehyunnie @love-kha1 @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @mooncarvers-world @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @smellwell @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @bangchansdirty-slut @chaevvonders

[skzdarlings]

the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

-

“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.  “My husband isn’t coming for me.” 

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand.  You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.    

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer.  The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone. 

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return. 

Hyunjin was quiet on the call.  Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation.  When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster. 

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business.  He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family.  Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle. 

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you.  When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties. 

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld.  The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved.  Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.    

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call.  Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance.  He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.       

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call.  You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned.   At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster.  You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport. 

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes.  They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown. 

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst. 

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said.   He ended the call seconds later.    

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says.  He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife.  It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat.  “Or else.” 

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim.  “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening.  They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds. 

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth.  Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you.  He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental.  There is a professional distance between you.  His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business. 

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity.  He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies.  He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind. 

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you.  You often catch him staring.  He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up.  His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions.  You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter.   He seems more than content to listen.  He remembers everything too. 

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else.  He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away.  He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon.  He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card.  It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship.  You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations.  There would be consequences if the marriage fell through.  You would be blamed, not him.  Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him. 

He politely rejected you at every turn. 

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job.  It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse.  You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom.  You could hear him cursing above the running water. 

You only meant to peek.  The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over. 

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder.  There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars. 

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty.  His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain.  Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head. 

He froze at the sound of your gasp.  His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair.  They captured yours.   

You held your breath. 

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face.  He looked in the mirror and sighed.    

“You can come in,” he said.   “This is your home too.” 

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through.  Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder.  You could see the wound was a thin stripe.  It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.    

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering.   You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start.  You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut. 

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact.  You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror.  You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever. 

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection.   “You – you have people to protect you.”  You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face. 

“I do,” he said.  “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” 

This did not surprise you to hear.   It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people.  It is a fact known to few.  It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him.  He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private. 

You have never known another man like him.  Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you. 

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others.  If something happened to him, what would become of you?  Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter?  This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin.  This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless. 

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder. 

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke.  “Please make sure you always come home, okay?” 

He did not answer at first.  When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire. 

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.   

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization. 

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine.  It made him stand a little straighter.  “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked. 

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger.  He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table. 

“You’re a smart woman,” he said.  “I know that.  And I know that you’re – good.” 

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue.  You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself.  He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted. 

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked. 

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady.  You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting. 

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before.  You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity.   Of him, of all that he was, all that he did.  His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband. 

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive. 

You desperately wondered what was on his mind.  The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response.  Was he feeling the same tension?  Were his thoughts the same realization?

 My wife.  

“Yes,” he finally said. 

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so.  It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss. 

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face. 

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time. 

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire.  It was so different to that kiss.  You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that.  You never knew what you were missing. 

Your quiet husband and his multitudes.  All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin.  His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever. 

He walked you backwards.  With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back.  He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.   

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself.  Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath. 

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain.   He looked at you like he already loved you.  He looked at you and saw the reciprocation.  You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled. 

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place.  His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body.  You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now.  It is why it became your favourite. 

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body.   It broke through that last layer of ice.  He surrendered with a choked breath. 

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket.   Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt.  You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard.   You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires.  No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real.   His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way.  He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before. 

Recollection makes you crave another kiss.   You think you will always be starving for more. 

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest. 

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed.   He kissed you again, long and slow.  It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.”  He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat.  “Please, my wife.”  He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it.   “My wife,” he repeated. 

“My husband.”  The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.   

It was all the confirmation he needed.  Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness.  He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.   

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way.  His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness.  Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you. 

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers.  It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth.  He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth.  He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you. 

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time.  He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you.  It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before.  You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind.  His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together.  You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars.  Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses. 

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless.  He always wanted more. 

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled.   However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever.  He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business.   You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations. 

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed.  There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance.  The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing.  But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before.  But while his silence was significant, so was his glance.  Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud. 

You granted him some distance for a time.  When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap. 

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side.  You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants.  His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up. 

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything. 

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case.   His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing.  You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair.  He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you. 

You ran your fingers through his hair.  When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek. 

There were some wipes on his desk.  You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up.  His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist.  He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself. 

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face.  Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied. 

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe.  Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him.  This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees. 

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly.   You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten. 

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face.   He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe.  The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body.  You were completedly naked underneath. 

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began.  It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh.  You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants.  It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.  

“Please,” you said. 

He would never deny you anything.  Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture.  When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour.  You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat.  His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise.  He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth. 

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment.  He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink. 

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds.  That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one.  He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss. 

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed.  The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment. 

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame.  When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it.   His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up. 

 “What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat.  The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower. 

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over.  He licked and kissed back up to your mouth.   “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.” 

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you.  His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him.  It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small.  Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception.   This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like  he was a life preserver in a storm.  The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise. 

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you.  He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat. 

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you.  You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.    

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man.  He understood.  He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure.  His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before.  You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms. 

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs.  It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered. 

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again.  He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over. 

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more.  Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you.  You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world.   You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him. 

You have been out of his arms for too long.  Your visit to your family grew tedious before long.  Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return. 

Now it seems you may never see it again.  You may never see him again. 

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now.  You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue.  You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business.  You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision.  You must eliminate the need for choice. 

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies.  When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings.  There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them. 

It is true, you do not like violence. 

That does not mean you do not understand it. 

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement.  Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown.  You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway. 

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle.  You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants. 

Then Hyunjin emerges.   You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it.  If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now.   There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely. 

Then he stumbles, recognizing you.  You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you. 

He looks nowhere but your eyes. 

“Hyunjin?” you finally say. 

“I—”  He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress.  He shakes his head.  Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say.  You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply.  You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business.  The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.  

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry.  You’re late.” 

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth.  He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says. 

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand.  His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.        

You turn to watch them go.  In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm.  He is fast, effectively disarming you.  He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him.  You throw your arms around him.  The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks. 

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain. 

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek.  He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe. 

“I’m all right now,” you say.  “Sorry I beat you to the punch.  I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles.  That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger.  He tips your head so he can look at your face.  He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find.  He is enchanted every time. 

“You’re mine,” he says.  “And I take care of what belongs to me.” 

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space.  He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless. 

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says.  His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary.  It makes you tingle from head to toe.  “Do I need to remind you?” 

You never actually answer.  You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home. 

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold.  He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.  You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place.  Now, he is not slow or subtle.  He is a force of nature.   He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call. 

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body.  “I’m your husband.  There is nothing I should be holding back.” 

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair.  You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers.   “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath.   “Do whatever you want.” 

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down.  He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites.   You shiver at every suggestion. 

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed.  He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass. 

“You’re my wife,” he says.  The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress.  It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce.  “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.  

This time a yelp escapes your lips.  You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress.   He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.  

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers.  You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next.   You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together. 

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again.  “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down.  “My husband,” you say again. 

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you.   With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold. 

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking.  His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead.  You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place.  Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows. 

“I make you feel good,” he says.  “I take care of you.  You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently.  Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up. 

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess.  “Just for me,” he says in that whisper.  “Just for your husband.” 

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you. 

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up.  He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed.  You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap.  He forgets to remove his necklace.  All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you.   You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you. 

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions.   When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase.   When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever.  When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms. 

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart.  Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow.  Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him.  You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels. 

Before it ends, you change position.  He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely.  He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down.  Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name.  His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body.  Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again.  He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn. 

“Hyunjin,” you say.  “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately.  Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you. 

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin. 

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn.  His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth.   There is no more ice, no more cold concrete. 

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh. 

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly.  It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art. 

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says.   “Just like you rescued me.” 

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him.  It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back. 

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband. 

[atebyflowers]

︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ fuck buddy loser!ellie ໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა

fuck buddy loser!ellie who you met in ur sophomore year of college through dina, your roomate. immediately taking interest in her appearance despite the way she carried herself.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who pretended to dislike "your people", always partying, big friend groups, everything she disliked.... but deep down, you were exactly what she wanted.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who has an insanely high sex drive when she's around you.. sex wasn't something she ever thought about actually doing until you met... but from that day on it was all she could think about.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who is disgusting the first time you two are together. it's was as if she had been strived of physical touch for so long she didn't know how to behave, she had craved your body for so long — and it was exactly how she dreamed.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who loves to eat you out, she refuses to do anything beforehand. she gets wet off on the way you grip her hair and arch your back while her fingers pump in and out of you as her tongue sucks on your clit. she swears she can cum just at the sight of you looking down at her, whining out her name for more as she slows her pace in an attempt to tease you.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who is a sub most of the time, and always has to deal with your harsh responses to her teasing. she loves when you're in control and tell her how to get you off, but it kills her when you won't let her touch you. she'll watch you closely as you touch yourself, smacking away her hand anytime she gets close. "please baby..... j-hust wanna make you feel good" she'll beg, and you'll ignore her until you think she's been good enough.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who masturbates to your photos whenever you're apart. one night you tried to get her to go out and party with you, but she refused. a few hours later you send her a video of you i dressing in the bathroom, showing her what she missed out on by being a loser and staying home..

fuck buddy loser!ellie who will fuck you anywhere. she's so needy it's pathetic.. whether it's in her car, the bathroom, the locker room, she doesn't care if it's "risky" — she just needs to feel you.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who loves scissoring, and she's so vocal about it, especially when you're on top. "fuck .. speed u-up please" she'd be such a mess, desperately trying to grind herself into you — sucking on your boobs as you leaned down over her to steady your speed.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who squirts every time you finger her or use the double sided dildo with her. she's so beyond sensitive it's impossible for her to control herself — though you've vocalized finding it hot in the past. not to mention how much of a mess she is when you overstimulate her... you know her body better than she does, touching her in ways that send her over the edge.. "come on els .. can't you give me one more" you'd mock her for a third time as she cries at your words, crumbling underneath you multiple times in a single night.

fuck buddy loser!ellie who calls you pet names often, especially "my girl". you both swear there's no attachments, but in reality she has such a bad crush on you. it feels stupid on her end to have such a silly crush on someone she's fucked a million times... but when you're not having sex, she's so shy around you and blushes like crazy ... even though behind closed doors you were practically consuming eachother, she was to scared to tell you her real feelings out of fear of ruining things.

[seospicybin]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Your ex, Chan, makes a return to his social media with a thirst trap. Horny and bored, you decide to see him for the sole reason of getting your physical needs fulfilled. However, as the night goes, you start to wonder if seeing him tonight is a bad idea. (14,4k words)

Author's note: Yes, it's inspired by that one Olivia Rodrigo song.

Talking to your ex is a bad idea, right?

You've been considering whether to slide into his DM or not, commenting on his Instastory which is a video of him exercising half naked, exposing his toned upper half body in all its glory.

It's been two years after the breakup and he didn't post anything on his social media until today, it's like he knows you're bored and horny.

It's unclear whether it's him or it's your uterus talking, but he looks hotter, sexier, and bigger than the last time you saw him. Although you must admit that he's always been attractive to you, except that his attractiveness is on a whole 'nother level now and it makes you wonder why you let this man go in the first place.

In your defense, Chan is not a terrible ex, he decided to break up with you because he was leaving to study abroad and thought the long-distance relationship would be hard and mentally draining for both of you.

You acted like it didn't hurt you but when you came home that night, you cried so hard that your pillow got drenched in tears. You didn't want to break up with him because he's a great guy who happens to be great in bed too, not only because he has the most delicious cock you've ever had but he also knows how to put it to a good use. Simply put, you were so devastated thinking that you'd never find a man like him again.

And you know what? You were right. You tried dating a few times but nothing comes close to what you had with Chan. Also, can't two people reconnect?

Before you get to change your mind again, you decide to hit the like button and send a short message in his DM.

Hey, there. You type into the message box, adding a smiling emoji at the end to make it sound casual but friendly at the same time.

There's no reply or a sign that he's read your message, you figure he must be busy on a Saturday morning, he could be having another session at the gym or having breakfast, or... yeah, it could be him ignoring your messages.

Slightly hangover from hanging out with your friends last night, you slump down your bed and close your eyes to get another few minutes of sleep.

You wake up an hour later with more than a dozen notifications on your phone, they're mostly your friends sending photos they took of you last night. You groan when you see a couple of work emails and do not think twice to skip them. There are some texts from friends and then, there it is, a reply from Chan.

Well, hello, there!

It's been ages.

How are you?

You check the time and his replies came about fifteen minutes ago, there's a possibility that he's still on his phone and he'll respond faster this time.

Never been better.

How about you?

Looking fine as ever, I see.

You add the eyes emoji before hitting the send button and drop your phone onto the bed, it's a bit risky but a compliment never hurt. Besides, who doesn't like getting a compliment?

The thought that Chan is probably waiting for your reply in those fifteen minutes amuses you but pfft... that's just your wishful thinking.

As you wait for his response, you're checking the photos your friends sent you. You check them one by one, deleting the ones that you don't like and saving the good ones where you look flattering.

An idea pops into your head as you go through your gallery: a plan. First, you choose a photo of you that shows your whole look last night, dressed in a blue mini dress and strappy heels with your hair up, tied in a messy bun, in other words, you looked hot and you felt like it when your friend took the picture.

You upload it as your Instagram story and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You're sure as hell he'll see your new post, then he'll get curious and open it, and Wowza!

Chan thinks he can be the only one posting a thirst trap on a Saturday morning, huh?

It only takes a minute for the thirst trap to do its job, you smirk at the notifications and see Chan's username on the top.

Me? He adds three flustered emojis to it.

Nah. I'm not.

But you...

You look beautiful as always.

Is it even allowed to look that beautiful?

A year of being single makes you weak at the slightest chance of romance, you catch yourself smiling to yourself in the mirror. You slap yourself to get ahold of yourself, reminding yourself that he could say that just to—

A notification pops up and it shows that Chan liked and reacted to your Instagram story with the hearts eyes emoji. Fuck! You just caught yourself smiling again. but what can you do? You're just a girl who is lonely and in need of some loving touch.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and think about what to reply to him.

And you...

Is it even allowed to have that much of muscles?

Someone, please close the gym!

You look good nonetheless, Chris.

But seriously, close the gym! You add a laughing emoji to keep it playful.

You patiently wait for his reply but your patience only lasts for twenty minutes until he makes you wait longer for his reply and you slump on the bed again.

It's time for plan number two!

The thirst trap worked to pique his interest and you have to come up with something that shows you're a hot commodity, you don't waste your time chasing boys, they chase you. That way, Chan will respond to your message faster.

So here comes plan number two, you take another trip to your gallery, scrolling through photos from last night, and find the perfect photo. It's a picture of you and one of your male friends, you're standing side by side, holding your drinks together and smiling to the camera. There's enough friendliness in there to show that you're close with this guy but also, not that close. You don't know how to explain it, but you know it'll work.

You wait a few more minutes to add it to your Instagram story, not forgetting to tag your friend which is the best part of it. If anyone checks his account, they'll see a model with blue eyes, just the perfect guy to make certain someone is jealous.

You're devilishly laughing as you hit the post button and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You check to see the final result and smile in satisfaction.

Okay, maybe you were too haste and didn't do your calculation right because morning has turned into afternoon and Chan hasn't replied to you. Not only did he make you wait, but you also wasted three hours of your day staring at the ceiling with the phone resting on your chest.

At this point, you should've given up and maybe it's true, he only replied just to be friendly, nothing more. You fling your phone across the bed out of spite and get up, planning to wash him away from your head with a hot shower.

Against the loud sound of the hairdryer, you hear your phone chimes and you turn it off to check whether you're imagining it chimes or not.

You hate how quickly you forget how upset you were a while ago after seeing your phone light up with new notifications.

I'm sorry for replying late.

I was busy moving some stuff.

Do you have time?

And you hate it more that he can easily get your hopes up again. You figure it's time he tastes his own medicine, you put your phone away and leave him on read. You'll reply later when you feel like it, or never. Who knows?

You continue drying your hair but the constant hum of the hairdryer makes you unable to hear your thoughts, especially one that stops you from going to your phone again as it chimes with a new notification. It only takes twenty minutes for you to cave into the temptation.

I don't know about you but all these chats, they're not enough.

Can we video call instead?

It takes you not even a minute to say yes to him. You make a run to your closet and change your clothes, picking up a white top with a low neckline, ditching the bra, and pairing it with denim shorts.

Chan doesn't give you a minute to choose the setting of the video call, your phone rings as you try to make the bed as best as you can and sit with your back against the headboard of the bed.

The phone keeps ringing but you need to check your hair in the mirror again to finally accept the video call. A second later, Chan's face appears on your phone screen, and from his damp hair, it seems like he's just taken a shower too.

"Hey," he greets you as he brushes his curls with his hand.

"You look a little wet, Chris," you tease with a sly smile.

Chan moves, changing his sitting position and revealing himself in a bathrobe with his chest all exposed. Intentional or not, you must admit that's quite a show!

"I was feeling hot so I took a quick shower," he answers with a grin.

"Feeling hot, huh?" You tease again.

"I am now," he playfully responds, flashing you a sly smile and lip bite.

The two of you just stare at each other through the screen and it's getting too much for you with how intense his eyes are.

"So, where are you now?"

"I'm actually in the city," he shortly replies.

"Oh? You're back!" You gasp but hold yourself back from continuing the sentence and ask if he's back for good. The most important thing is he's confirmed his location, all you need to find out next is if he's up to do no good with you.

"Kind of," he vaguely answers.

"Kind of..." you teasingly repeat his words and then giggle.

Chan grins and rests his back against a pillow, it's unclear if he's sitting on the bed or the sofa, "Oh, how I missed that," he says.

You take a pillow and put it on your lap as something to hold on to, "Missed what?"

"Your sweet smiles and cute giggles," he shortly answers like he's been waiting for you to ask him that.

"Oh, stop it, Chris!" You respond, getting a little flustered that you melt onto your pillow. You may as well lie down on your stomach and put the pillow under your chest, "You're getting good at lying, huh?"

"Yeah. Nah. Just a little bit," he jokingly says, then bursts into laughter that his dimples sunken deep into his cheeks.

And oh, you missed his dimpled smiles and his sonorous laughter too, but you're not going to tell him that, maybe not now, or ever.

To avoid it escalating really quickly, you shift the conversation elsewhere. You prop a hand under your chin and tilt your head to the side while the other hand steadily holds your phone far enough from your face.

"So, what are you doing now?"

"Staring at your face," he answers, a half smirk decorating his rectangular face.

"Just my face?" You jokingly ask with a flirty lip bite.

"Everything else too," he adds, catching his eyes flicking down for a second then smirks.

You act oblivious to the fact that with the way you lie on your stomach, you're offering him a view of your cleavage and he would be stupid if he missed the sign.

"What I meant is what are you doing in the city? Is it for work or...?"

"I need to sort a few things," he vaguely explains.

It's obvious that he's keeping the details from you and you have to respect that, he's not your boyfriend and even if he is, he's not obligated to tell you everything. Including the possibility that he came here to see his new girlfriend, perhaps?

"Oh? So, all business, no pleasure?" You joke with a light chuckle, hiding your true intention to know whether he's seeing anyone or not.

"I'm free tonight and I was hoping that we could meet," He says, shattering the negative thoughts that rush through your head.

Now, that gets you thinking if he's coming here to see you and you get that fluttering feeling in your stomach, or it could be your uterus ovulating as you speak, either way, you like it.

"Tonight?" You ask, acting like you already have a plan for tonight.

"Yes. Or do you already have plans for tonight?"

The act always works, gosh, you should consider to start a career as an actor, "Not really, but uh... where do you want us to meet?"

"There's a nice bar in the hotel I'm staying in. We can have a drink or two," he replies, then licks his lips and makes them appear wet and fuller, tantalizing you to kiss them.

Despite you feeling like screaming and jumping on the bed, you remain coy about it, reminding yourself to not sound eager but show enough enthusiasm.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, tilting your head to the other way and saying, "Hotel bar has better drinks so... yeah, I'd love a drink or two."

A triumphant smile rises on his face and it's cute that he lets it show, making you feel a lot of things in a few seconds.

"I'll see you there, I mean, here at 8?"

You tug your middle finger between your teeth and flash him a seductive smile, "Okay."

"I'll DM you the address."

"Okay," you mutter again while staring at him through the screen on your phone.

"See you tonight then," he says, touching his lips and rubbing the lower lip with his long, dainty finger.

"Can't wait to meet you," he adds.

Instead of answering him, you let out a giggle and sit up on the bed. You flip your hair to the back and just stare at him for a minute without saying anything.

"See you tonight, Chris," you finally reply, making sure to call his name with a low, sultry voice and a sly smile.

Without hesitation, you hang up first and let out a long sigh after. It's just a video call but Gosh! It feels like a foreplay already.

You give yourself a moment to compose yourself before execute plan number three: Dressed to fucking impress. To be honest, you don't even bother with the 'impress' part, you just want to fuck.

See? Talking to him is not a bad idea after all.

-

The sound of your high heels constantly tapping the marble floor as you walk echoes in the hotel lobby, you're unsure of how to inform him that you've arrived just a few minutes late from the appointed time.

You take your phone out of your purse and are about to compose a message when you catch him holding his hand up at you from the second floor.

You wave your hand back at him and make your way to the stairs, climbing each step with caution because it would embarrassing if you tripped. But looking at Chan waiting for you at the top of the stairs makes it feel like you're living a scene out of a movie.

Even with his signature all-black look, it doesn't make him less princely. He looks dreamy with crinkles in his eyes and a charming smile on his face.

He offers his hand when you're only a couple of steps away from him. You take it and let him guide you on the last steps of the stairs. His grip is firm as you remember and he still has his favorite chain bracelet around his wrist.

"You look gorgeous," he doesn't say it in a dramatic, hyperbolic way but he softly whispers it to you before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, so close to the corner of your mouth.

The night has just begun but he's already succeeded in making you quietly hold your breath. You put on a smile for him and coyly say, "You look stunning in black as... always."

He laughs and it feels like to see and hear it in person, like you can feel the warmth that his laughs emit.

"Want to have dinner first?" He asks.

"I've had dinner," you answer.

The truth is, you barely had dinner because you were too nervous to eat anything but you did eat a nutrition bar in the taxi.

"This way to the bar then?" He offers his arm at you like a true gentleman.

"Lead the way, sir!" You say as you link your arm around him.

It's only a short walk from the hotel lobby to the bar Chan mentioned, the interior is rather luxurious, leather seats with a live jazz performance. He mutters something to the hostess, probably where he prefers to sit and she nods in response.

"This way, please!" She says with a polite smile, walking like a feline creature in her tight skirt and silk blouse.

You glance to the side to see if Chan is looking at the pretty hostess in front of him, but you find him staring at you instead.

"Is there something on my face?" You ask in slight panic, afraid that you have something in your teeth but he feels bad to tell you.

"No," he simply answers.

"This way, sir, ma'am," the hostess says, gesturing to the booth she chooses for the two of you, a little hidden in the corner of the bar to provide some privacy.

Chan gently places his hand on the small of your back and lets you take a seat first. You have a seat in the middle of the curved sofa and he sits right next to you.

"Can we order drinks right away?" Chan asks as he puts his phone on the table.

"Sure," the hostess answers, slightly bending down to hear him talk clearly, "What would you like to have, sir?"

"I'll have the... Boulevardier," he eloquently says with a slight French accent.

"Excellent choice, sir!" She comments, she then turns her head at you to take your order, "How about you, ma'am?"

Things have been feeling a little surreal for these past few hours your brain is struggling to keep up, you want to be cool and confidently answer the fanciable hostess but it takes you a longer time to process a simple question like that.

"I'd love a daiquiri, please!" You answer, ignoring the fact that it takes you a minute to come up with it.

"Can I recommend you with the Hemingway special? It's a daiquiri with a splash of sweet grapefruit juice and Maraschino liqueur," she eloquently explains, proving that she's not only hired because of her look.

"That sounds amazing. I'd love that," you say with an impressed smile.

After confirming your orders, the hostess left the booth and it's just the two of you now in this nice yet slightly erotic setting of the bar.

"That's a nice dress," he suddenly compliments as he's looking at your face, not at your dress.

The dress goes to your midthigh, it's white and tight enough to showcase your curve. It's long-sleeved but the sweetheart neckline exposed just the right amount of skin. You've been saving it for a special occasion and considering that you haven't met him for two years, you reckon it's time to wear it.

"Just something I had, you know, lying around," you playfully answer.

The drinks come not long after and Chan waits until the server leaves to initiate a toast with you. Your drink is in a glass with a thin stem so you carefully lift it with your fingers.

"Cheers!" You mutter in unison and clink your glasses together.

The first round of drinks went with a conversation that consisted of basic questions. He asks you about work, family, life in general, and everything in between. You must admit that your life is kind of boring but it's nice to know that he wanted to catch up on your life updates.

It's a little disappointing though that he doesn't ask anything about your love life or whether you're seeing anyone or not.

When you deem that you're on the verge of oversharing, you stop talking and shift the focus to him.

"What about you? What are you working on at the moment?" You curiously ask, putting down your drink on the table and leaving one last sip on the fragile-looking glass.

"I'm working on a lot of things right now. From a lot of places too," he answers.

"So, you've been traveling a lot," you remark.

"Yes."

That says something about his relationship status and unless he has learned how to be in a long-distance relationship, then it means he's not seeing anyone right now. Even if he is, there's a big chance that it's noncommittal.

This calls for a celebration so you pick up your drink and drain every last drop of it, delightfully gasping once you swallow it.

"Round 2?" Chan offers.

"Yes."

Now that you've made up your mind about it and from the subtle signals he's sending you so far, it's safe to say that he's up to do no good with you. You smooth down the hem of your dress and flip your hair to the back, preparing yourself to execute plan number four: Make your intention known.

As much as you feel tempted to say 'Chris, let's fuck!' right to his face, you decide not to be haste and go with a more convenient, acceptable way. You plan to be forthright about your intention what you want and if he wanted the same too so the two of you can skip the formalities and go straight to the fucking.

"Chris, I have something to tell you," you say to him.

He positions his body slightly turns to the side to face you and softly smiles, "You can tell me."

You've mustered up the courage and have the words prepared in your head only for the moment to be ruined by your phone ringing in your purse.

"Fuck..." you quietly mutter to yourself, you could sense your courage shrinking inside you.

The phone has stopped ringing but you grab your purse on the space next to you and pull it out to check the caller. A new text message appears on your screen.

Call me. It's urgent. Your friend wrote in her text along with multiple red exclamation marks.

It seems rather urgent, you put on an apologetic smile at Chan and say, "I'm sorry but do you mind if I make a quick call?"

"Not at all," Chan says with an easy smile.

You take your phone with you as you get up from the sofa, leaving the booth at the same time the waiter comes with your second round of drinks.

Finding the way to the restroom, you hit the call button as you enter and stand in front of the sinks, waiting for your friend to pick up while checking for your hair and make-up in the mirror.

"What's the urgency?" You say the second you hear the call being picked up.

"I need to borrow your laptop. Mine is suddenly frozen and I can't reboot it," your friend answers in a rather distressed tone.

Knowing that it's not the kind of urgent you imagined in your head, you let out a sigh of relief and then say, "Yes, yes you can use my laptop."

"I'm already in the elevator to your floor."

"You have the code to my apartment and I'm sure you know where I put my laptop," you calmly tell her, putting the strands of hair to the side and carefully dabbing the skin under your eyes.

"Wait. You're not home?"

"I'm not and I'm not taking any more questions," you immediately stop her before she gets too nosy.

"Don't call me for the rest of the night. Bye!" You don't wait for a response and quickly hang up.

On the way back to your booth, you see Chan enjoying the jazz performance on the stage, tapping his foot against the floor. You didn't notice the way he sat until now, his legs spread open, he's slightly slumped and his long arm rests along the edge of the sofa, plus he left the top three buttons on his shirt open.

Chan looks so hot simply by sitting like that and you're sure you've seen much hotter men but you really can't remember when.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and slide into the booth again, then slowly sit on the sofa, leaving a gap between you and him.

"Here's your drink," he says, handing the glass to you with such caution.

"Thank you!" You mutter your gratitude.

You're glad that you're taking the recommendation because the Hemingway Daiquiri tastes so refreshing, it's sweet and sour, certainly an upscale from the classic daiquiri.

"I hope the call wasn't something bad," he says to you.

You lick your lips after taking a sip, "Oh, no. It was my friend. She needs to borrow something," you spare him from the details.

It takes a minute to remember where you left the conversation and when you finally recall, you need to take more time to prepare yourself again. You immediately take another sip to quicken the process of building up your courage.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He suddenly comes up with an unexpected request.

Your throat burns from accidentally swallowing your alcohol too fast and you can feel your eyes get teary as well.

"Sure," you manage to answer.

Somehow the gap you purposely put between you and him disappears, he sits so close to you that his knee bumps into yours.

"I've been stalking your Instagram page," he shares with a shy smile.

You snort because he makes it seem like it's an embarrassing thing to say, but you doubt if that's true, he could be saying that to make you feel flattered.

"As far as I can recall, you've been abandoning your account until today," you say, hardly believing his so-called secret.

"That's because I'm using a fake Instagram account," he simply answers.

You snort again and roll your eyes at him, "Yeah, sure."

Chan smirks and picks up his phone, he opens Instagram to show the fake Instagram account he made and it only has one following, you.

"Do you believe me now?"

It's hard to stay calm when you find out that the guy who broke your heart two years ago has secretly been keeping up with you through your social media. You're happy but a part of you is still in denial.

"I mean... why not use your own Instagram?" you ask out of pure curiosity because it's not like you'd mistake this as a sign that he wants to get back with you. You're not that naive nor delusional.

"Then you would know that I regret breaking up with you," he casually answers like he didn't just reveal something profound.

You look at him to check if he's just messing with you and you would know if he's lying cause he's bad at it, but nope, he's telling the truth.

"And you would know that I've been struggling to get over you," he continues with glints filling his doe eyes.

There's an alarm going off in your chest, it's coming from the heart and it's telling you to be cautious, potential heartbreak lies ahead. You get reminded that you came here not to confront your feelings, you came here to get fucked, hopefully hard.

"And I guess you posted your boxing video for a purpose?" You ask with your eyebrow raised at him.

"Well..." he shrugs and slyly grins, "it worked, didn't it?"

As expected, this man has so many tricks up his sleeves. Better be careful as he puts all of his attention on you, his arm slowly makes its way around your shoulder and his hand is playing with your hair.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No comment," You smirk and take a small sip of your drink.

Chan lets out a laugh, the sonorous one and the kind that makes his eyes form two crescents. He takes a sip of his Boulevardier which is an upscale version of negroni.

"I've been wondering why you stayed single for so long," he says with an underlying tone, implying that he's actually asking you the reason why. Also confirmed his secret stalking behavior.

"It's not that long," you reply, crossing your legs together as you flash him a sly smile.

"A year, isn't it?" He asks.

You groan and roll your eyes at him, "You really are a stalker."

"You can tell me," he playfully elbows your side.

"No. It's a secret," you refuse to share.

"I shared my secret with you and it's only fair if you share yours with me."

"First of all, I didn't ask for your secret," you defend yourself while holding your drink close to your mouth.

He leans to your side, offering his ear at you as he says, "You can whisper it to me."

He means to know the answer anyway so you lean into his ear and cover the side of your mouth, then whisper, "All the guys I've met, they don't have a big cock like yours."

That's a way to get his attention and escalate the tension between the two of you. You pull away with a devilish smirk dancing on your face.

You glance down at his crotch and ask, "Is it still as big as I remember?"

"If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," he plays coy about it and you find it extremely attractive.

Noticing that you've drained your drink, Chan waves his hand to get the two of you another round of drinks. Obviously, you don't want it to end when things have just started to warm up.

He looks at you and then glances down, showing his hand snaking its way to your thigh.

"Have I told you that it's a nice dress?"

"I don't mind hearing it one more time," you respond with a cheeky smile.

He shoots you a big grin while he's playing with the hem of your dress, feeling the fabric between his fingers.

"It's a nice dress," he compliments, then leans in close so that you can feel his warm breath brush your cheek as he adds, "And I want to take it off of you tonight."

You place your hand on his hand that rests on your thigh and play with his bracelet, "if you're lucky, you'll get to do it," you poke fun at him.

You can audibly hear his laugh in your ear as he leans in closer his nose pokes your cheek, "We're even now."

The third drinks bring the tension higher as the two of you relax from every sip and the gap between your bodies gradually disappears.

Chan has his eyes on you all the time, it's overwhelming at times but you like the way he looks at you like an animal who has his eyes on its prey and you like seeing the confliction in his eyes on whether he should eat you whole or play with his food first.

There's so much chemistry and tension here, plus the alcohol, you're only waiting for the light to turn bright green, really.

He gently brushes your hair to the side and keeps it there so he can plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, knowing that it's your sensitive part of body.

"You change your perfume?"

"Yes," you manage to remain calm despite the proximity and the way he constantly rubs your thigh with his knuckle.

He drags his lips to your ear and asks, "What is it called?"

You lick your lips and make him wait for your answer, "I believe it's called Good Girl Gone Bad."

He tilts his head to the side and looks at you right in the eyes, wide and dark with lust, "How bad?"

You grab the collar of his shirt and tug at it, "If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," you get back at him again.

As he bursts out laughing with his eyes closed, you follow your intrusive thought to cup his jaw with your hand and laugh along.

"That's two to one," you remind him.

He stops laughing only to fondly smile at you, "Remind me how I broke up with you."

"For a start, you acted like an absolute jerk that day," you half-jokingly say.

The truth is it wasn't the breakup that hurt you the most, it's the post-break-up and his total absence from your life, he didn't call or text, or even send a pity email after that day. It felt as if he didn't want you in his life anymore.

Fuck. How did you get here again? Forced to face your feelings. Time to shift the talk.

"It's getting late, don't you think?"

Chan immediately reaches for his phone on the table to check the time, "It's 10.51."

"Oh," you plainly respond and finish you drink.

"Can I have your new numbers?" He suddenly asks.

You put down your glass on the table and answer, "I still have the same phone numbers."

"Yeah but I lost my phone at the airport and had to get a new one, lost all of my contacts," he explains like he knew you thought about how he didn't call you earlier.

Chan hands you his phone so you can enter your phone numbers and hand it back to him once you've finished. He hits the call button instead of saving it first and your phone rings a second later.

"Come on. Pick it up!" He tells you.

You obey him, accepting his phone call even though he's sitting next to you, "Hello?"

"Hi, it's future Chris calling," he says with a mix of foolish and sexy grin, you don't know how but he does it so well.

Curious to see where this talk is going, you decide to play along with him, "If you are really from the future, can you tell me the lottery numbers for this week?"

"I... can't tell you that."

"I'm hanging up," you joke.

"But I can tell you something else."

"Not interested," you put away your phone from your ear.

He glares at you, forcing you to continue playing along with him, "Hear me first!"

"Okay, I'm listening," you say with a dramatic eye roll.

"Future Chris says you need to go to hotel room number 103 tonight."

"Uhm... why?"

"You have to go there if you want to get lucky," he says with his tongue slightly poking out on one corner of his mouth.

"Still not interested," you poke fun, pretending to hang up the phone again.

"You'll regret it," he teases.

"I doubt that," you say with your nose scrunched at him.

Chan gets a little annoyed now, you can tell by the way he has his tongue poking his cheek and the fed-up grin on his face.

"Don't you want to get lucky tonight and find out about..." he pauses as he reaches for the pendant of your necklace and turns it over in his fingers, "the thing you're curious of."

This is it then, your intention matched his intention and the light has turned bright green. You take his hand and put it down onto your lap, then you slide your hand into his palm, "Okay."

"Okay," He says, holding your hand in his then brings it close to his mouth to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

-

As you're waiting for the elevator to arrive, Chan steadily places his hand on the arch of your back and lingers there until the elevator chimes open.

He lets you get in first and you choose to stand on the side, close to the panel full of numbers of the hotel floors and he reaches for it to push the number to his floor.

Should you consider yourself lucky that the elevator is empty? Should you be nervous because you're starting to feel like a prey being locked with its predator inside a small, enclosed space?

No words are being exchanged as the two of you locked in a gaze, but he speaks so much through his eyes, they're fiery, filled with so much want, so much need, and ultimately, desire.

After that much teasing, flirting, alcohol, chemistry, and tension, you've been wondering how the two of you managed to not kiss each other already.

It seems like he's about to make it happen as he comes closer to you, putting his hands on the handlebar and caging you in between. Slowly, he brings his hand close to your face and carefully puts away the strands of hair covering your face to the side, then tucks it behind your ear.

In this proximity, you can see how plush his lips are, how soft and full they are, and it's getting too hard to try to ignore. You look at him, telling him how much you want to kiss him through your eyes and deliberately blink to give him the unspoken permission to kiss you.

The heating moment gets interrupted by the sound of the elevator chimes open and a group of people gets in from the fourth floor.

"Excuse me," a man says as he reaches for the panel to press the number to his floor.

With his hand on your back again, Chan protectively guides you to take a step forward and stands behind you, he puts his arm around your waist with his hand resting on your abdomen.

There's a low chatter going on from the other corner of the elevator but the absence of silence doesn't make it less tense as Chan buries his nose in your hair, you can feel every breath he inhales on the nape of your neck. It feels hot and cold at the same time, making you tingling inside.

He then presses his mouth to your ear and softly whispers, "You're still using the same shampoo, mmh?" His lips graze your ear as he speaks.

Chan puts his other arm on you and quietly, pulls you closer until your back meets his chest, that way you can feel him behind you and his body heat that slowly melts you from the inside.

Quietly, he slides his hand down to the curve of your ass cheek and then gently squeezes the flesh.

"My God, this body..." he whispers with his breath tickles your body, "Makes me want to ruin you so much."

Is it wrong that you don't even want to hide it anymore? You want everyone in the elevator to hear what he just said to you and for a split second, you want Chan to fuck you right there and let everyone watches.

However, Chan suddenly lets go of you and you pout at the sudden loss of contact. Then you notice that the little screen above the panel shows that the elevator is about to stop on the 10th floor.

When it chimes open, you make your way out with Chan trails behind you. None of you look back but keep walking ahead with his hand resting on the arch of your back again, leading you to where his room is. His hand goes lower and lower the further you walk through the hotel corridor.

"This way," he says, guiding your body to take the left corridor.

Without warning, he grabs you by the waist and roughly pulls you with him until he hits his back against the wall, then crashes his mouth on you.

This is not your shared first kiss but this is somehow better than that. The feeling of your lips finally reunited in a rapturous kiss especially when you've been craving it oh, there's nothing like it!

Chan kisses you so hard, so deep, so passionately that you have a hard time returning it to him and breathing becomes a second priority to you.

"I've been wanting to do that all night," he mutters when he lets go of the kiss.

Still gasping for air, you nod and say, "Me too."

To your surprise, he turns you over and has you pinned against the wall this time, he pushes his body against yours as he seeks to be as close to you as possible until there's no inch of gap left between your bodies.

When he deems that you need to breathe, he lets go of your lips only to kiss you on your neck and you tip your head to the side to give him the free access. You let out a low moan as his teeth faintly scrape the skin.

His hands run amok, feeling you all over and touching you through your clothes, eventually his hand cups your breast in his. He kisses your lips again only to distract you from his hand trying to pull down the front of your dress and after a few tries, he manages to send your breast spilling which he wastes no time to take it in his mouth.

"Oh..." The moan just slipped out of your mouth and you hurriedly press your lips together to shut yourself up, aware that you're in a hotel corridor and the hotel guests might hear it, oh and also, someone may walk in on you making out in the hotel corridor.

He leaves your breast wet with his saliva when he lets go and goes straight to kiss you again, putting his weight against you and hoisting your leg around him.

It's getting hard to stay quiet as he starts to dry hump you, you can feel the friction of his clothed erection on you, big and bulging, highly arousing.

Hearing footsteps coming, he hurriedly fixes your dress and takes your hand, this time, leading you right to his hotel room. He swiftly unlocks the door with his keycard and pushes the door inward.

"Come in," he softly mutters, keeping the door open to let you in.

Once you're both inside, the obscenity continues. Nothing is stopping you from coming at each other and ripping each other's clothes. Your dress is the first to go then his shirts, they're lying on the carpeted floor now.

As you lips continuously latch with his, Chan swiftly unbuckles his belt and zips open his fly, he pulls his erection out of its confine.

Without breaking the kiss, he takes your hand and puts it around his hardening member. You gasp at how hot it feels in your hand, how hard it is that you can feel the veins coiling around his length.

He pulls away and looks down to see your hand holding his cock, "Is it as big as you remember?"

You suck air through your teeth and then say, "I'm not sure."

You start to slowly pump his length in your hand and look up at him, "but there's a way I can know for sure."

His eyebrow raised in question, "You do?"

"Uh-huh," you answer, leaning in to kiss him.

From his lips, you begin a trail of kisses to his neck and his chest next, then down to his sculpted abs until your knees hit the carpeted floor.

Something about kneeling in front of him and he's looking down on you with a mix of excitement and anticipation in his eyes arousing you in a whole new way.

In return, you look back at him, innocently blinking your eyes at him all the while your hand keeps stroking his cock in front of you.

"Can I?" You ask him with your thumb softly rubbing the tip of his cock.

He puts his hands in your hair, brushing your hair and gathering them in the back of your head, making a makeshift ponytail with his hand, "Yes."

Without looking away from him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, then slowly, you take him in your mouth. You take him little by little and give yourself time to adjust yourself to his size which you think is somewhat bigger than you remember.

Wanting to impress him, you push yourself to take more of him but you're too haste and his cock hits the back of your throat so fast, triggering your gag reflex. You immediately pull away before you embarrass yourself more and look away as you let out a cough.

"Still too big for me," You say with a shy chuckle.

Chan places his hand on your cheek and tenderly caresses it, "Too big for you, mmh?"

You nod with your puppy eyes at him.

"But you're taking it so well," he coos, now wiping your chin with his thumb.

You wrap your hand around his cock again and slowly pump it, "Yeah?"

"Yes," he mutters with a soft smile.

The truth is you're not a big fan of giving blow jobs and you're not very confident in your skill, but he remains sweet and patient with you and you believe it's because he knows.

Chan makes you feel safe and comfortable enough to make you want to do it again.

"Let me just..." you don't finish your sentence but do it all over again.

You remind yourself to take it slow, regulate your breathing, and keep calm, it's even better if you can try to enjoy doing it.

To compensate for the rest that you can't take in your mouth, you use your hand and alternate between sucking and licking.

"See? You're taking me so well," he softly mutters, delicately tucking your hair behind your ear.

It doesn't take long for you to find your rhythm and slowly enjoying yourself giving him head, you're even humming in pleasure with your mouth full of him.

Seeing his reactions and hearing the lewd noises coming out of your mouth, encourages you to keep going despite your jaws getting tired and your knees are hurting from kneeling too long.

In between his low moans, he manages to mutter sweet nothings to you.

"Oh, that pretty mouth!"

"You're just too good."

"Oh... Too good at this!"

After a few minutes though, you sense that you needed a break so you slowly pull out and replace your mouth with your hand.

"You like that?"

"Very much," he answers without a beat.

He offers his hand to help you get up from the floor and pulls you close, hoisting your body against him knowing that you're probably tired from kneeling too long.

"You're getting too good, it's dangerous," he whispers to you with both hands cupping your ass cheeks.

You giggle and let him have your lips in him again, you're opening your mouth for him so he can kiss you deeper while he hoists you higher until your feet are lifted off the floor.

Chan carries you to the bed and gently lays you down on the bed, he removes his jeans first before joining you, lying next to you on the bed.

He brushes your hair away from your face and presses a kiss on your lips, "So, is it as big as you remember?"

You tangle your hand in his soft curls, "Jury's still out," you answer with a sly smile.

Chan glares at you as a grin slowly blossoms on his face, he offers his arm as your pillow and then pulls you closer to him, that way, he can comfortably plant his lips on yours again.

As he keeps you busy with his kisses, his hand is making its way down south and not stopping until it lands on your clothed cunt. He smirks against your lips the second he slips his fingers under, meeting your wetness.

"That wet for me, mmh?" He murmurs.

You coyly shrug and shoot him a smirk just to provoke him.

"Well, I'm honored," he says with his fingers tracing your folds and running it up and down your slit.

When he starts playing with your clit, you know you no long can keep your cool anymore. The cold that comes from the metal of his chain bracelet adds a different sensation to the hot and wetness of your cunt.

"Goodness..." you breathlessly gasp as he inserts his finger into you.

"I know you can take one more," he mutters with his mouth pressed to your ear, then proceeds to add another digit.

His two long fingers are inside you now, pumping them in and out of you, and curls them to find that spot that makes you—

"Chris! Oh, fuck!" You curse and grip his shoulder hard enough your nails dug into the skin.

He's enjoying it from the way his head hovers above you and peacefully observing your face, wanting to see all of your reactions to his delightful assault.

He has his mouth sucking on your breast now and the other is being fondled by his other hand, the other hand is busy making a mess out of you.

You're squirming on the bed with your waist upheld in the air and shamelessly arching your back at him, seeking more of him inside you.

Chan knows when to stop, he teases you enough to prepare you for what comes next. He slows down his hand motions and slowly pulls them out. He doesn't let go yet but keeps his hand inside your underwear, playing with your clit.

A moment later, he draws his hand out of your underwear and rubs his fingers coated with your arousal on his lips, "Taste yourself on me," he says.

Seeing his lips wet with your essence is rather arousing and you don't hesitate at all to kiss him, tasting yourself on him. The kiss feels exceptionally kinky and you thought you couldn't be more aroused than this.

Without letting go of the kiss, he hovers above you and props his elbows against the mattress, "Are you still on the pills?"

You swallow air before answering, "Yeah."

He places a sweet peck on your lips then looks at you, "Is it okay if we do it without protection?"

Maybe deep down you know you can trust him and it wouldn't be the first time you're doing it with him without a layer of protection so you find it easy to agree to it and nod.

"Okay," you say, also providing him a verbal consent.

He smiles at you and lowers his mouth on you again, he continues the kisses down your front. His hands tugging at the elastic band of your underwear and pulling it down as he continues the kisses down to your legs.

The bed quakes as Chan gets off the bed and he's just standing there, looking at you and your naked body for his eyes to lust on. You catch him inhaling and exhaling air like he's overwhelmed by what he's seeing.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters with a delightful sigh.

It would be the only normal response to get flustered under his lustful eyes, you look away from him and say, "Just get in here, Chris!"

He surprises you by jumping onto the bed, making the bed quakes once more and he immediately puts his lips on yours again.

"Turn over for me," he softly whispers to you ear.

Without saying a word, you obey him, turning over on the bed and getting on your fours, kneeling with your hands propped against the mattress in front of you.

Chan positions himself behind you and then with so much care, he puts all of your hair away onto one shoulder so he can place kisses on your back. His hands freely roam around your body.

In your opinion, Chan has the most attractive pair of hands, it's warm and firm with veins snaking on the back of his hand, and of course, long fingers that know how to find your most sensitive spot. Now, they're on you, going all over you and feeling you all over.

"I almost forgot how soft you are," he murmurs.

He then brings his hands to your chest to play with your mounds, he hums in pleasure as he sees your breasts mold perfectly in his hands.

"Like they were made just for me," he sighs.

It's like his attractiveness and his big cock aren't enough, Chan has to have a smart mouth too, a mouth that knows what to say and how to say it.

Then again, you're just a girl and you're prone to sugary sweet words like that. You look over your shoulder and smile at him, not expecting that he's going to capture your lips in a kiss.

He slides one hand down to your throbbing cunt again, making sure it's wet enough for him to penetrate. He gently pushes you to the front so he can aim his cock at your entrance and then slowly, he guides you to take him in.

"Oh... ah..." you moan, crumpling the sheet underneath you.

And you almost forget how big he is until he's inside you and you get so high that you blank out, you're there on all fours and merely just a vessel.

Not giving you another minute to adjust, Chan moves back and pulls his cock out only to push it deeper inside you. He then wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly while you're flailing against him like a rag doll.

"You feel so good," he whispers, his breath is hot and heavy in your ear, "So fucking tight around me."

He brings his hand down to rub your clit, adding gentle pressure as he's circling on it.

"I'm going to move, okay?" He says to you with a slobbering kiss on your shoulder.

Unable to form a coherent answer, you repeatedly nod in answer.

The sploshing sound of his fingers incessantly rubbing your clit intensify along with the pace of his thrusting. Chan either has his lips on your lips or plants them on your shoulder, either way, he does it to muffle his groans.

This is what happens when his hand and his cock joint forces, you find yourself on the brink of orgasm when all you've been doing is filling the room with your high-pitched moans.

"Oh, I'm cumming," you whine, holding onto the sheet as waves of pleasure surging all over you.

Chan slows down but does not stop thrusting into you, he kisses your neck and shoulder as you relish your orgasm. He keeps you close with his slung across your chest.

"Chris?" You breathlessly call his name.

"Yes, baby?" He answers your call and you guess the pet name unintentionally slipped out of his mouth.

Not going to lie, it gets you fluttering to hear him call you baby. You curve your arm around his neck and bring his head close to kiss him.

After a while, you start to doubt that the fluttering feeling came from Chan calling you with a pet name. You think it's because you're getting your second orgasm.

"What should I do, Chris?" You whine against his mouth

He breaks the kiss and looks at you with a concerned look, "Huh?" Chan confusingly asks.

"I'm about to cum again," you shamelessly admit.

Chan lets out a low chuckle and presses a kiss on your lips, "Then let's cum together, yeah?" he simply resolves.

He draws you close to him until your back hits his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you to hold you steady as he adds more speed to his thrust.

"Chris, oh..." you moan while holding onto his forearm.

His hands slithering around, one hand squeezing on your breast and the other wrapped around your neck. His mouth nests in the crook of your neck, grunting in pleasure and at times, sucking on your skin to muffle his noises.

"Oh, you keep clenching, baby," he mutters, followed by a broken moan.

That is probably because his cock is deep inside you, it's engorging and pulsating, filling you whole and continuously rubbing against your velvety walls, making the knot in your stomach tighten with each passing second.

Getting weak on the knees, you collapse onto the bed and Chan hurriedly holds you by the waist as he maintains the pace.

"I'm close, I'm close," you tell him repeatedly with one side of your face pressed against the bed.

Chan groans as he pushes his cock as shallowly as possible inside you, "Almost there," he says through his gritted teeth.

The previous orgasm makes you more sensitive than before and you can't hold yourself back anymore so you slowly let go and let the pleasure take over you once more.

Meanwhile, Chan hovers behind you and takes your hands, he holds them by the wrists then pin them against the bed as he restlessly thrusts into you to chase his high.

"Want me to cum inside you?" He asks, still thoughtful as you remember

"Uh-huh, yeah," you manage to answer even with your brain close to short-circuit.

Getting the permission is all he needed to get to his release. Then moment he finally come undone, he lets out a hoarse yet the most beautiful moan you ever heard, then lets himself lay on top of you.

A moment passes in contented silence and Chan presses a long kiss on the nape of your neck, then softly asks, "Are you okay?"

Not getting an answer, he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face to check it himself, "Did I go too rough on you?" He asks again with a slight concern.

You allow yourself to take a few more seconds to gain your composure and instead of answering, you foolishly grin at him and say, "That was so fucking good."

In response, Chan brightly smiles then pecks your lips, "No, but seriously, are you okay?"

You nod at him, "I'm okay."

After hearing your confirmation, he lets out a sigh of relief and then kisses you again, longer than the previous one.

"Sweet break?"

You don't expect him to say that after a long time, you smile and nod, "Sweet break."

-

Sweet break is something you used to say to each other when you need to take a break from something by eating something sweet. Like now, for instance, you and him taking a break from sex to order something sweet from the room service.

"Bad news is the kitchen is closed" Chan announces the second you come out of the bathroom.

It would be bothersome to put on your dress so you put on Chan's shirt instead, buttoning it as you join him on the sofa, "And the good news?"

He opens the food cover to show you what he got from the room service, "They're still serving desserts," he says with a grin.

The two of you huddle together around the plates of desserts and eating them on the sofa, filling the room with the sounds of your chewing and the dessert spoon scraping the plate.

It's fascinating to watch Chan casually eat his chocolate cake like he didn't just fuck the brains out of you a while ago. You let out a low chuckle and get back to your crepes.

"What's so funny?" He asks, catching you quietly chuckling to yourself.

"Nothing," you answer with a shrug.

He glares at you and decides to invade your plate with his fork, stabbing at the sliced banana and then shoving it into his mouth.

"Hey, eat your own dessert," you scold him but let him collect more bananas from your plate.

"But you don't like bananas," he says in between his chews.

"I don't like bananas but that doesn't mean I can't eat them," you say, but proceed to put the bananas to the side of the plate.

"I'm eating it for you so you only eat what you like," he says with a proud grin.

It's endearing that he still remembers little things like this. The sweet break, your dislike toward a certain and even how many of his fingers you like to have inside you. You can't help but wonder if he remembers other things too. His feelings for you, perhaps?

"Want to order another one?"

The two of you shared and finished the last plate together, even though you feel like you can have another plate, you refuse the offer.

He puts the plates away to the side of the room and returns to the sofa, lifting your legs before he sits next to you and then puts your legs on his lap.

"What's that café with the salted caramel cookies?" He suddenly asks.

"The one with butternut latte?" You ask back to check.

He gently puts his hand on your shoulder and plays with your hair, "Is it still open?"

Damn. He even still remembers that one café you regularly visited when the two of you were still dating.

"Yes," you answer with a smile.

"Man. Those are the best cookies!" he sighs with his fingertips lightly rubbing your thigh.

"I mean, we can go there tomorrow if you want," you casually say or you hope it sounds casual, it's a friendly offer.

He stops playing with your hand and cups your jaw, "I would love to," he says.

From the way his smile slowly dims, you sense a 'but' coming. Oh no, you sense a regret coming. You shouldn't have offered it in the first place.

"But I have to leave tomorrow," he says.

"Oh?" You try to remain unbothered and keep your facial expression in check, "Tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah. I have to take care of a few things back home," he explains.

By back home, he means Australia and he'll fly out tomorrow, and probably for good. You hate that you get sad like it would be the first he's done it to you.

He holds you by the chin and slowly brings your head close to place a chaste kiss on your lips, it's so tender that you feel a tug at your chest.

"Thank you for coming to see me," he sincerely says with his eyes wide and shining for you.

This is where you start losing the objective of why you're here, you came here to solely get fucked, not expecting anything but his cock inside you.

Time to put some sense into your head and laugh it off, "Oh, my God, Chris!" You gasp out loud.

His forehead wrinkles in question, "What?"

"Yes, we can fuck again, no need to try so hard," you say with a sassy eye roll.

Learning that he's being pranked, he squints his eyes at you with his tongue pokes his cheek. While clutching his chest, he says, "Gosh, I thought—"

Before he can finish his sentence, you shut him up with a kiss because you don't want to keep talking about your feelings or get reminded of how things were when you were still together. You kiss him because you want to forget.

"You thought what?" You ask as you sit on his lap.

He licks his lips and shakes his head, "Nothing."

He's more than glad to have you sitting on his lap as it allows him to hold you close. His hands trail the sides of your body until they eventually land on your ass and then eagerly fondle them in his hands. Catching you off guard, he lands a slap on your ass cheek.

"Chris!" You shriek, abruptly stop kissing him, "That stings!"

"Can't help it," he innocently says while laughing and then pulls you close to kiss you again before you scold him more.

As a safety measure, you take his hands from your ass and fold them together on his chest but he takes it to his advantage, he finds another playground for his lewd hands.

Doesn't want to waste time unbuttoning it, he slips his hand under your shirt to fondle your breast, circling his fingers around your nipple before pinching at it.

He then lifts your shirt, exposing your breasts to the cool night air, and wastes no time to bury his head in between your mounds. He then pulls the shirt down and hides himself in it, acting like a toddler by purposely placing ticklish kisses on you to make you laugh

"Stop playing," you scold him with your hand tangled in his curls, "Let's go to bed, mmh?"

Chan pops his head out through the opening of the shirt and looks at you, "Kiss me first," he demands.

How can you say no when he looks at you with fondness in his eyes and a smile on his face? You fulfill his wish and place a long, lingering kiss on his lips.

"Can we go now?" You say the second you pull away from the kiss.

"Okay," he obliges.

He gets out of your shirt first and you get off his lap next, then starts walking toward the bedroom when Chan suddenly comes from behind you and hoists you up, looking unbothered carrying you on his shoulder.

"To the bed!" He announces, then slaps the back of your thigh.

"Chris!" You scold again but you can't do anything about it as you hang upside-down on his back.

The bed is already a mess and it seems like it's going to get even messier with the way Chan constantly has you pinned under him. He kisses your lips, softly yet hungrily like devouring an ice cream.

Aware that he has taken his turn, Chan doesn't complain when you flip him over and take it over from him. You're straddling him, rubbing his cock between your slit while he's unbuttoning your shirt open.

You find yourself wet for him again in no time and his cock is as hard as you need it to be, maybe this is why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are always horny for each other.

You let out a low, long moan the whole time you lower yourself on him and a seductive chuckle slips out of your mouth the second he's fully buried inside you.

When you look down at him, you find him staring at you with his mouth agape. You slyly smile and place both of your hands on his glorious pecs, "Have you always been this big?"

Chan licks his lips and rests his hands on your thighs, "And have you always been this tight?" He asks back instead of answering.

Being on top gives you the freedom to set a pace you prefer and switch positions as you like, more importantly, you can fully enjoy every bit of it. But it's working because Chan is such a great partner, he lets you have full control and lets you take your time.

If not using his hands to touch you all over, he has his hands folded under his head and quietly enjoying watching you fucking him.

"If you keep clenching around me like that, I might cum too fast," he tells you.

"I'm okay with that," you calmly respond.

To tease him more, you purposely keep clenching around him and rolling your hips in circular motions. Somehow you stop focusing on getting your high and start thinking about how to please him more.

"Oh," he loudly groans and his hand grips at your waist, "You're bad!"

You giggle in response while continuing to roll your hips back and forth in painstakingly slow motion.

"Oh, you're really, really bad," he says with ragged breath.

The sex may not be as hard or as intense as the previous one but it's just as good, even better. Maybe it's the unwavering eye contact, maybe it's the way he hisses every time you tease him, or the way he trusts you to make him feel good.

Whatever it is, you feel like sharing an intimate moment with him and you can't lie, it feels special.

"Are you close?" You ask because you're very close to your climax.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me that," he hastily answers, still able to joke in a heating moment like this.

You take him along with you to the edge and not stopping until the two of you come to your release, you keep moving at a sloppy pace to ride out the high.

Chan pulls you close, forcing you to lower yourself onto his body and accidentally sending his cock to slip out. You don't mind it at first but you can feel his hot cum dripping out of you and onto his abdomen.

You break the kiss and mutter in panic, "It's dripping."

"I'll put it back in," he simply responds, reaching down for his cock and slowly pushes it back into you.

Now that it's resolved, he puts his arms around you again and pulls you even closer until your bodies mold into one another, then kisses you more.

Without looking and breaking the kiss, he pulls the duvet and covers both of your bodies with it, ready to end the night with your bodies still connected.

"Have I told you this?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

He looks at you with his brown eyes that looks like a nice cup of cocoa, comforting and warm.

"I miss you," he ever softly says.

There he goes again, making you debate whether you came here for the sex or to try to rekindle old sparks with him. But in all honesty, it feels good to know that the yearning goes both ways.

For once, you let your heart answer it for you.

"I miss you too, Chris," you mutter back with a smile.

And now you start debating if seeing him tonight is indeed a bad idea.

-

There's a wet, squelching sound when you first come to your senses the next morning, you feel like sleeping for another hour or two but you also feel the urge to check what that noise is all about.

You force open your eyes and find out right away the source of that wet, squelching sound, it's coming from Chan and he has his mouth latched to your breast.

"Morning, Chris," you croak as you brush your hair away from your face.

He lets go of your breast with a loud pop and looks at you, "Did I wake you?"

"Not really," you answer, putting your hand in his fluffy bedhead.

"I'm sorry," he says but not looking like it.

"Are you? Sorry?" You jokingly say and lay back on your pillow.

He slyly grins and shifts his focus back to playing with your mounds. He holds your breast up and uses his slick tongue to tease your nipple, alternating between licking and sucking.

It's normal to feel horny in the morning and, you find yourself already wet under there, you guess Chan has been helping himself while you were still sleeping.

Chan's head hangs above your chest and you can see how much he's enjoying your breasts, playing with them like a toddler, he even makes noises as he fills his mouth with your ample flesh.

"Aren't you leaving today? Shouldn't we get up and shower?" You mutter, softly scratching his scalp as you talk.

He sucks at your breast so hard and pulls it before letting it go, grinning as he is satisfied with what he just did.

"My flight is in the afternoon," he says.

"And I'd better go so you can pack—"

"But I already ordered breakfast," he whines like a fussy child.

"Well, we can shower first."

"They'll send breakfast at 8," he shares with a wild grin.

You turn your head to check the time on the clock hanging on the wall, "But it's hardly 7."

"Exactly!" He exclaims.

"Exactly what?" You ask in genuine confusion.

He buries his head in your neck and whispers, "We have an hour before breakfast."

Despite catching on to his intention, you decide to act dumb, "And?"

"And..." he inhales your scent before hovering above you, "I'll have my breakfast first."

He winks at you then goes under the duvet, and settles himself between your legs to have his so-called breakfast and it only makes sense that it progresses to intercourse.

Morning sex offers different things, it's the quiet, the peace, the slivers of morning sun shining through the cracks of the curtains, doing it with a refreshed mind and body, it's also the best way to start the day.

It's even better when you get to be a pillow princess, you just lay back and let Chan do all the handwork. He has your legs locked around his waist as he thrusts into you at a slow yet steady pace and in every thrust, he makes you feel every inch of his length rubbing against your walls.

"This is just great," he says with his face pressed to the side of your head.

"Mmh, what?" You respond as best as you can.

"I don't have to do cardio today," he says with a low chuckle.

This is your favorite kind of sex, do it by not taking it too seriously. Because in your opinion, other than it should be comfortable for the individuals involved, sex should be fun.

You kiss his open mouth and drag your lips down to his neck, then plant your mouth on his skin, sucking at it hard enough to form a hickey on it.

"What's that about?" He's rather dumbfounded instead of annoyed.

"Just trying to make it fair," you coyly say as you point to the blossoming mark he made on your breast.

"Yeah, okay," he says in defeat.

As much as you don't want the sex to end, it eventually ends but in a rather explosive, euphoric way. You feel like you've just been given another chance at life after that last orgasm.

"Who needs coffee, huh?" You sigh as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

It's a rhetorical question but Chan decides to respond to it anyway, "Not me, apparently."

Then you remember that he indeed doesn't drink nor need coffee to function, "Not you, apparently," you correct your earlier remark.

Chan carefully lowers himself on top of you and hastily kisses you, both of your teeth almost colliding.

"Thought I was still dreaming when I woke up next to you," he says, coming with another sentimental remark that evokes something deep within you.

You decide to push it further down and keep it there by saying, "Ugh. It's too early for that," you groan.

Chan weakly chuckles with his head nestled in your neck and just like the universe knows you need the distraction, the knocking comes on the door and it must be the breakfast.

You gently pat his head and say, "Now, go get my coffee!"

The morning continues with a quiet breakfast, it's obvious the reason why, the two of you burnt so many calories last night and need a reload.

Then there's the shower and you strongly refuse to share with him or else, it'll take much time. But Chan has an even stronger will and joins you anyway.

This is another reason why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are the same insatiable creatures.

The two of you dressed in silence and at times, catch him watching you, instead of feeling shy, you give him a proper show, bending down and wriggling your ass as you put your underwear on.

Chan enjoys every bit of it, he grins and bites his lips, tempted to come up at you, and goes at it again, but sadly, time is running out.

It's here, this is where it's going to end and you never know when you'll see him again, and that's even if you're still able to. You can only hope that he doesn't see how much you want him to stay.

"This is it then," you say, standing right in front of him in the foyer.

He takes your hand, loosely lacing his fingers with yours, "Can I still text you?"

"Sure," you answer.

"How about phone calls?"

"Booty calls only," you jokingly say.

He smiles and takes a step closer to you, you can almost see every moment the two of you shared last night flashes in his eyes, and it's achingly beautiful.

"Can I kiss you before you leave?"

You plan to make the goodbye as brief and as painless as possible but you don't want to risk losing the opportunity to make it a not-so-sad ending. But if you have to be honest, you simply want to kiss him.

"Okay," you agree with a nod.

You put your arms around his shoulders and let your body molds into him as he holds you close, you tilt your head up and close your eyes.

The moment your lips make contact, your heart bursts open and there's no way of stopping your feelings flow out of it so you let them be. You let him feel your pain, your yearning, and ultimately, your feelings for him that you try so hard to conceal, and then slowly, you pull away from the kiss before they fight their way out of your heart.

It's possible that Chan feels it too, that the kiss feels intimate, the kiss feels emotional, and a little close to the heart. He pulls you into a hug that lasts for a long time as if he tries to convey some unspoken messages too.

"No need to send me off," you tell him, not wanting to make it sadder than it already is.

Chan walks you to the door with his hand on the small of your back and then keeps it open for the final goodbye. You stand facing him and say, "Goodb—"

He puts his finger on your lips to stop you from finishing your sentence, "I'll see you when I see you."

That sounds like he indirectly promises you that one day, he'll come and see you again, and surprisingly, it only makes you uneasy.

You put on a smile and try another way to say goodbye, "Have a safe flight, Chris."

As you get into the back of the taxi, you get these familiar feelings and unfortunately, they're not the good kind. You feel like you went through the same thing before, you feel angry, you feel sad, and lost, and you feel this tightness in your chest that makes it hard to breathe. Then it hits you that it feels exactly like that day he broke up with you, this is the feeling of heartbreak.

In the end, you got your physical needs at the price of having to face your feelings and it all comes down to one conclusion: seeing him was a bad idea.

-

ONE MONTH LATER

It's like you're trapped in an endless loop, it's the weekend and you're lying on your bed, horny and bored.

Your phone is blaring with notifications and messages, you check and skim through them, they're from your friends or some other miscellaneous, you couldn't care less.

In other words, they're not the notifications you've been anticipating.

Chan has been diligently contacting you, sometimes he texted and when he's not, he calls you late at night because apparently, he's always busy during the day. The point is he always contact you by any means of communication.

However, for these past few days, it's been total radio silence. He's not even looking at the pictures you specifically posted to thirst-trap him. If only he knows how much time and energy you've spent just to get a single flattering shot of yourself. Ugh!

As you're about to spiral down, your phone dings and you consider ignoring it to spare you from getting disappointed all over again.

After a moment though, you cave in. You unlock your phone and get greeted by the very notification you've been dying to get.

What you doin'?

Busy running around in my head? He wrote a corny message and added a crying laughing emoji.

A week of no contact and that's the first thing he said? You scoff in disbelief and just stare at the messages, you've learned to make him wait for your reply and use the time to think of witty, flirty answers to his messages.

Am I running with clothes on or naked? You playfully ask back, giggling as you type it.

I think you know the answer. He wrote back with a winking emoji.

Let's hope I don't catch a cold then. You jokingly write in response.

You should stop cause it does things to me.

One minute he's corny, one minute he's cute, and the rest of the time? Hot, confident, and flirty, and you eat those shit up.

Things like what? You reply.

Like this. He wrote along with a picture.

Intrigued, you hurriedly click open the attachment and it's a picture he took of him in the mirror, wearing nothing but his white underwear. Your eyes feast on his glorious Greek God body, his sculpted abs and broad shoulders, and eventually your eyes flick down to the bulge inside his underwear.

In all honestly, it's the first thing that catches your eye because it's so fucking big and the underwear does nothing but enhance the shape and the size.

All of a sudden, you feel thirsty, literally and figuratively, and Chan knows how to make you keep swallowing air by sending you another picture.

The picture is of the same setting but in a rather different position, he's sitting on a chair, slightly slumped with his legs spread wide open and his hand holding his bulge.

Wish it was your hand.

Did he take a class on how to take good thirst traps and nudes? Because damn! Two pictures are enough to make you feel like an animal in heat.

Can I have it in my mouth instead?

Want to have you in my mouth.

Being straightforward mixed with the drooling emoji always works but what really does it is the one magic word: Please?

A minute later, there's no reply from him but your phone rings, he's calling you and you scramble to sit on the bed. You take a deep breath first before hitting the accept call button.

"Hello?"

"Gosh, I want you so much," He suddenly says, no greetings or small talk first. He goes straight to what he wants and you kind of dig that.

You giggle into the phone and playfully ask, "How much?"

"So fucking much," he emphasizes every word and lets out a heavy sigh after.

"Come and maybe I'll give it to you," you seductively say while playing with the lint on your denim shorts, "Maybe."

He chuckles and then jokingly says, "I'm on my way."

"Don't make me wait long," you play along with him but secretly wish that it's true.

You hear rustles from his end of the phone call and think he's probably calling you while lying on his bed but then, you hear the sound of bustling streets and car horns and—

"You're not really on the way, right?" You nervously ask, twisting the loose thread around your index finger.

"I told you, I'm coming," he coyly says.

Your heart skips a beat but he could be anywhere, he could be driving to work or you know, in a taxi in... Australia. Right?

"Chris..." you meekly call him.

"Yes?"

"Are you in the city?" You ask to confirm his location.

"Suprise!" He exclaims followed by a series of giggles.

Yes, you secretly wish that he was coming, but not now but not now and maybe, not ever because the last time you saw each other, things didn't end well for you.

So seeing him tonight is a bad idea, right?

"Why didn't you—" You don't know how to word it without sounding like you're not grateful for his surprise.

"I want to see you," he says, cutting through your silence, "Do you want to see me too?"

What should you do? You don't want him to come but at the same time, you want him to come. Oh, God, this is so confusing!

You want to lie so badly but your heart won't let you, "I want to see you," you openly admit.

"I'm coming so wait for me, yeah?" He softly mutters.

"Okay," you weakly reply.

"I'll see you in a bit," he says with a smile that you can hear through the phone.

"See you."

The second you hang up the call, you start pacing back and forth in your room. He'll be here anytime soon and it'll be just like that night all over again.

You almost jump when the knock comes on the door and you slowly walk to the door, just standing there with your hand on the knob, debating if you should ignore him and pretend you're not home.

The knocks come again and reflexively, you turn the knob and pull the door open.

There he is in a white shirt and blue jeans, the simplest way of dressing yet somehow, it looks incredibly stunning on him.

"Hi," he says with a sweet grin on his face.

His hair is slightly tousled, he smells incredible and those dimples have the power to make you soften around him almost immediately, they're your kryptonite.

"Hi," you say back, lingering by the doorway.

"Brought you wine," he says, showing the bottle of red wine in his hand.

You tilt your head to the side and fight the urge to jump at him and climb him like a tree.

"That's so nice of you," you say with a smile.

"Can I come in?" He asks, gesturing his head toward the inside of your apartment.

But it's a bad idea, right?

However, you find yourself nodding and you step aside, "You may come in."

Chan steps inside and you close the door behind you after. The second you turn around, he pushes you to the wall and crashes his lips against yours.

And you know what? Fuck it! It's fine.

-

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[paradiseprincesss]

the boy is mine | jonathan crane

masterlist

yeah so i wrote this in literally record timing because the music video to the boy is mine is so jonathan crane and his girl coded. i'd like to think i'm keeping u guys fed with all my fics i hope u like !!!

summary: you’re set on doing anything to make that boy yours, and the plan you curated is absolutely purrrfect.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), bondage/tying up, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, stalking, obsessive behaviour, therapist/patient relationship at one point lol

“perfect.” you whisper to yourself as you poured the last drop of the glittery, pink liquid into the small vile, swirling it around as you popped a cork into the top.

you smiled proudly as you sat on the kitchen floor of your apartment, holding up the vile to get a good look at it under the moonlight. it was fool proof — he’d for sure be yours after you forced him to drink this.

some would say you were a little unhinged, but you preferred the term creative. you were a little obsessed with your old therapist, doctor jonathan crane. you started seeing him when you stumbled across his pictures online, and you knew you had to have him. you booked your first session with him roughly nine months ago, and he was there for you every step of the way.

you didn’t actually need therapy (well…), but you still booked sessions with him because he was yours. it was meant to be. you couldn't unsee it. during your first ever session with him, you made sure to put on your cutest, most feminine and dainty mini dress, paired with some matching high heels. you even did your hair and makeup with precision. jonathan didn’t show it on his face, but when you sat there in that leather chair across from him for the first time, his heart started to beat a million miles a minute.

you were jaw-dropping. he couldn’t believe someone could actually possess such beauty, and though he tried to stay professional, it was proving to be quite difficult. every time you spoke, every time you smiled at him, every time you did absolutely anything — he would become more and more infatuated with you.

“i just wish he didn’t leave me, you know?” you say softly, feigning innocence, “it’s been so hard without a man to take care of me.”

jonathan clenched his jaw silently, he couldn’t believe that a man would be stupid enough to break-up with someone like you. be professional, he reminded himself.

“understandably so,” he said clinically, “i can only imagine how difficult it would be to have a relationship like that end so abruptly.”

“it was so difficult,” you say, your eyes watering, “but, i think i’m slowly starting to move on.”

of course, such "ex-boyfriend" did not exist. this was all part of your elaborate act to make him think you were an innocent, naive girl who was heartbroken and needed someone to save her. that someone being him, of course.

he was made for somebody like you.

you only had seven sessions between the two of you before jonathan abruptly reassigned you to his colleague, doctor webber. she wasn’t anything like doctor crane — she didn’t understand you the way that he did.

good things come to those who wait, but patience wasn’t your thing.

“i’m sorry,” jonathan doctor crane said to you, “as much as i want to continue to be there for you and your journey of growth, i believe that my colleague would be better suited to your…needs.”

“what are you talking about, doctor crane?” you asked, trying to to hide the desperation in your voice.

“i have another patient i must attend to,” he says flatly, informing you that your session had come to an end, “but i wish you all the best.”

and with that, he sent you to see doctor webber. of course, you were heartbroken. how could your soulmate do that to you? but jonathan wasn’t doing it because he didn’t want to see you — it was quite the opposite, actually. he knew that feeling this way about his patient was so very wrong, and if he continued to see you, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

really, he did this for you.

as you placed your little love concoction on the kitchen counter, you turned on your tv. jonathan was supposed to be doing a segment with the mayor of gotham tonight about the crime rates in the city, and what him and his team at arkham asylum were doing to solve the issue. as his face appeared on tv, you sighed to yourself. he was so handsome in his suit and tie — and those sexy little glasses?

meow.

the chilly gust of wind made you shiver for a moment, but your latex bodysuit kept you warm enough — well, not really. with your little cat ear headband, you toss your hair over your shoulders as you quietly make your way into the silent home. your black pumps were surprisingly silent against the wood floors, and you crept into the living room where a woman sat on the couch watching tv.

you went undetected as she completely missed your presence. stealthily, you creep behind her until suddenly, you yanked her by her hair. she screamed loudly, and your hand immediately went up to her mouth to clasp down on it; you were getting really good at this.

“don’t scream,” you whisper, “i just came here to tell you to stay away from my man.”

slowly, you remove your hand and she looks back at you with sheer terror, “wh-who’s your man?” she asked with fear laced in her voice.

you hated this bitch — she was one of jonathans patients. there was nothing going on between them, you knew that (plus you would’ve murdered her if there was!), but you had spent the last few weeks…"cleaning up the streets."

these ratty bitches had to go; any woman who was his patient or in his life at all had to go. you even dressed the part with your sexy little cat costume and all. you know what they say — in the eternal game of cat and mouse, there are no winners, only survivors.

“doctor jonathan crane,” you said dreamily, but your tone turned sinister within seconds, “and if you ever go see him again, i will find you, trust me. i've already found you once, and you don't want me to come prowling back around.”

the woman nodded frantically, and you went on your merry way. this was the last one, you were certain. you’d even made a list of all the women to threaten so that you could make sure they would stay away from your man. finally, you made your way home and started to wind down from all the break-ins you’d been making recently. it was hard work chasing down all these…mice.

jonathan noticed that his belongings were going missing here and there over the last few months, and he knew something strange was going on. he wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but something was off.

first, little things such as his favourite pen (yes, he has a favourite pen) went missing. then, a few patient files would seemingly disappear along with some sticky notes he had stuck on his desk the day prior. he didn’t think too much of it until one of his credit cards went missing from his wallet — but there weren't any fraudulent charges made.

he even continued to monitor his bank account and freeze his card, but no charges were ever made on it regardless. the last straw was when his spare house key went missing. even for a man as smart as jonathan, he could not figure out who was doing this for the life of him.

you were still attending your regular sessions with doctor webber, but you deliberately booked your appointments on days you knew jonathan was working. you knew you’d run into him either on your way in or way out, and you also knew he wasn’t that booked up anymore since most of his clientele went…missing.

as you said your farewell to doctor webber, you noticed jonathan walking out of his office. he noticed you immediately, giving you a soft smile as you turned to close the door to doctor webbers office. he said your name softly, causing you to almost choke on your own words as you clutched his house keys behind your back.

“doctor crane,” you say softly, “hey.”

“just jonathan is fine,” he said, but he internally scolded himself for saying that, “how have you been?”

“great,” you say sweetly, “doctor webber is…great.”

“that’s wonderful to hear,” he says, “it was nice seeing you again. take care.”

you two parted ways, and once jonathan was back at his apartment — he was to refrain himself from calling you. god, you looked so good today. with those little dresses of yours and good grief, those sexy, little heels you always paired them with. he grabbed himself a glass of whiskey, neat, and took a swig as he thought about you.

why did you have to be on his mind so much, and dear god, why did you have to be so fucking beautiful?

with a frustrated sigh, he looked at his front door, thinking about his keys that suddenly went missing just a week prior. was he overthinking things? was he just imagining it? did he lose his own keys and forget?

he was a psychiatrist for gods sake, why was he driving himself crazy over this? with so many questions and no answers, he made his way to his bathroom as he flicked his kitchen lights off.

the cold water ran from the bathroom sink as he splashed it on his face after removing his glasses, and he looked at himself in the mirror to get a grip. his pale, icy, blue eyes bore into his own reflection, and-

what was that?

he turned around swiftly, turning the tap off, watching as something, no — someone’s perfectly manicured hand ghosted over the edge of his bathroom doorframe.

he couldn’t see anything — the kitchen light was turned off, and the only thing turned on was his dim bathroom light. the master of fear himself felt a little fearful in this moment as he watched the dainty, feminine hand retract and move back into the shadows and he could've sworn he saw...cat ears?

jonathan had to blink a few times to make sure that he hadn’t spilled a vile of his own fear toxin somewhere and that he wasn’t just hallucinating off of it.

hesitantly, he pushed open his bathroom door only to be met with the darkness of his kitchen. his breath hitched as he flicked on the kitchen lights, but he was met with an empty, quiet space. his eyes quickly darted to the front door, but it was locked shut.

but if the door was locked shut, what did he just see? who did he just see? was the scarecrow himself starting to succumb to silly, little, irrational fears? before his mind could start to wander anymore, he heard a familiar sound.

a certain, distinct, and awfully familiar sound of high heels clicking against the wood flooring — and it was coming right from his bedroom. jonathan went over to his bedroom, swinging the door open unsure of what he might see, only to be met with a sight that made him feel weak in the knees.

you were propped up on his bed, in a latex body suit and high heels, along with cat ears to complete your rather sexy costume. you batted your eyelashes at him innocently, and bit your lip as you showed him the rope in your hands.

“how did you…” he whispered, watching you bite your lip as he trailed off.

“doctor,” you purred, “let’s get intertwined.”

“what the fuck…” he whispered once more, watching you as if in a mesmerized trance.

jonathan couldn’t lie — as much as he should have been terrified and calling the cops, he was awfully turned on right now. jesus christ, that latex cat costume that left absolutely nothing to the imagination? yeah, he was hard the moment he saw you.

“i know it’s simply meant to be.” you say softly, and as if his mind could not control his body, he was making his way over to you on his bed.

“um, what-“

“shh,” you hush him, suddenly grabbing him as you swiftly tie a knot around his wrists, “you don’t need to speak, baby boy.”

in mere seconds you had the scarecrow tied up on his own bed, restrained as you looked down at him. jonathan sat there looking up at you — yes, you were hot but you were clearly also insane.

to be fair, so was he.

he didn't bother trying to get himself out of the ropes. he knew that if he tried to struggle you'd most definitely do something not so pleasant to him. also, if he was being honest — this was hot. like, really hot.

"i just need you to do me a favour, baby boy," you giggle, your high heels clicking against the wood flooring once more, "drink this for me, and know that if you refuse, you won't live to see another day."

you held up a vile of pink, shimmery liquid. jonathan looked at you with a raised brow, and hesitantly nodded.

"...i'll drink it if you answer some questions that i have." he says, trying to bargain with you.

"fine," you shrug, "but make it quick."

"alright, first of all, how did you get in here?" he asked.

"easy, i crawled in through your window. next." you say in an awfully innocent voice.

"are you the one that's been taking my stuff?" he asks, and you nod.

"of course, i needed your stuff for my collection." you say whimsically, biting your lip at the thought of your homemade jonathan crane shrine.

in your apartment, you had a wall dedicated to him. it had cut outs of him, printed pictures, his belongings, his address, photos of him when he was younger — the list just goes on. all just regular, boring, stalker stuff, really.

"no more questions," you huff, "drink up, baby boy."

"what is it?" he asked, to which you rolled your eyes.

"an at-home love potion. i'm going to untie you for this — and if you even attempt to run, i will slice your heart in two." you say with an adorable smile.

jonathan doesn't offer a response, but rather opts out for a simple nod. you slowly untie his wrists, handing him the pink, glittery liquid in the vile. you watch him in awe as he closes his eyes and takes it like a shot, smiling to yourself as you realize that he's finally going to be all yours.

this little concoction that you had whipped up was the real deal — you'd even tested it on other men to see if it did what it was intended to do. it worked on them, bringing these men to their knees for you, but it's not like you really had any trouble doing that without a love potion, anyway.

after jonathan drinks it all, he looks back at you blankly. unbeknownst to you, when you were popping the cork off of the potion, he sneakily grabbed a vile of his fear toxin that was stashed by the foot of his bed — just in case you tried to actually murder him.

his plan was to immediately throw the vile at you and watch you succumb to your fears, but if he was being honest, he wanted to see what this shitty little "love potion" could do. he was a man of science, after all.

"i don't feel anything," he said after a moment, "looks like your potion didn't work after all-"

you cut him off with a small giggle, "you don't feel any different?"

"no."

"i've tested it, i know it works," you giggled, "that means if you don't feel any different from before, then you must already love me-"

suddenly, he lunged at you, making you scramble as you tried to fight back. however, he was much stronger than you, making it physically impossible to overpower him. after struggling for a good minute, he had you tied down on the bed like you had him just moments before.

"you're sick in the head," he says, but you could've sworn you saw him smirking, "you're real fucking twisted, you know that? i could call the cops and have you arrested right now."

"do it," you teased, "i dare you to, baby boy."

jonathan suddenly grabbed you by the neck, "what was that?"

you had you refrain from smiling as he choked you softly, feeling yourself get wet from just a second of his touch. you knew exactly what he wanted now.

"sorry," you corrected, "i dare you, sir."

"there we go." he says as he lets go of your throat.

he rummages through his bedside drawer and pulls out some of his own rope, causing your mind to spin at the idea of what he was going to do to you. you didn't run when he untied your wrists initially, but he took a few moments to tie both your wrists up to his bedposts, essentially tying you up so you couldn't move your hands at all.

"oh," you say with a teasing voice, "i see where this is going."

he smirks at you, admiring how sexy you look all tied up in his bed, with your costume and all. he takes his phone out and shamelessly takes a picture with the flash on, and you could feel that you were leaking your arousal down his bedsheets by now.

it seemed that your love potion didn't work on him because, well, he was already obsessed with you.

of course he was — but jonathan was known for his good work ethic. he only gave you up as a patient because it was only a matter of time before he would give in and most likely fuck you on the couch in his office. he just didn't know it was mutual at the time. if he did, well — that's a story for another day.

"maybe i should punish you," he smirks, making his way over to you on the bed, "you've been so disobedient."

"m'sorry, sir," you whimper, "you just make me crazy."

"i know," he cooed condescendingly, "but i think i can fix that, darling."

"you can?"

"i most definitely can," he says lowly, "it might take a few sessions to cure you, but i have a method i think might work on you. i'm gonna fuck you 'till you can't think anymore, no more thoughts after that. sound good?"

you nodded frantically, "mhm, yes. please, fuck yes."

he smirked at you, his hands reaching towards the top of your bodysuit. slowly, he reached his hands behind and unzipped it, slipping it off of you slowly.

"i like the cat costume," he chuckles lowly, "the ears are a cute touch."

you blushed, biting your lip as he slipped you right out of your latex bodysuit. obviously, you wore nothing underneath — not even panties. jonathan groaned at the sight because seriously, no panties? with your wrists tied up and unable to touch him, you were getting pent up real fast.

"i wanna touch you," you whined, "please."

he smirked, "if only you didn't break into my apartment like a stray."

before you could even formulate a proper response, he was crawling between your legs, spreading them out as he got onto his stomach. without warning, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, latching his mouth onto your pussy. your back arched at the feeling, and he continued to lap you up.

"f-fuck, jon," you breathed, "feels s-so good."

"i know." he said cooly against your core, lapping up your arousal continuously as you moaned over and over again.

it was sinful how skilled he was with his tongue — it hadn't even been a full five minutes and you were already on the brink of creaming all over his face. he didn't give you any mercy as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, and your wrists were burning against the rope as you tugged on them.

god, the things you would do to run your hands through his soft, dark, and now tousled hair.

"nnnghh," you whimper, "i'm, ah- gon' cum!"

the coil in your stomach snapped as your release hit you like a freight train, making you scream his name as he made you cum. you were left a panting mess, and he finally released the grip he had on your thighs. after wiping his pink, plump lips along with his chin which glistened with your wetness, he smiled softly at you.

"taste s'good," he commented, "you look so pretty like this, darling. tied up and helpless."

"n-need you," you whisper, "baby, please."

this time, he didn't correct you and demand you call him "sir." maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was the realization that he had finally met a woman who was as unhinged as he was. deep down, he was really loving the idea.

he started to undo his belt, making sure to keep his eyes locked on yours, teasing you as he undid his belt at a painfully slow pace. finally, after what felt like an eternity (it maybe thirty seconds at most), his cock sprung out of his pants, hitting his stomach lightly. it was long, veiny, and thick. how was that supposed to fit inside of you? surely it would split you open.

"cat got your tongue?" he teased as he unbuttoned his white button-down, stroking his cock a few times as your hips bucked into nothing.

"uh-huh." you whispered in awe, biting your lip at the thought of how his size was going to stretch you beyond your limits.

with a low chuckle, he lined his thick cock up with your begging hole, pushing in slowly as you felt him stretch your cunt out fully. he was so big and so long, the feeling of him just halfway inside of you was enough to have you pulling against the ropes again. the way the rope was digging into your wrists was degrading but undeniably hot. it was like a silent reminder of how little control you actually had over this whole situation.

"s-so full!" you squeaked, but he kept pushing himself into your tight, warm hole.

"s'okay, you can take it. and if you can't, i'll make you take it." he groaned, finally bottoming out in you.

you were stuffed to the brim with his cock and slowly, he started to thrust his length in and out of you. desperately, you let out a feverish moan. your breaths were short but heavy, and you were a fucked out, cockdrunk mess for him as he picked up his pace.

"you're so fucking tight, my god," he moaned, "i should've fucked you sooner."

"make me cum," you plead desperately, "f-fuck, yes, feels so good, jonathan!"

"yeah? you wanna cum?" he cooed as he continued to fuck your sopping pussy, "you wanna cum on this cock?"

"fuck, yes." you pleaded.

his cock was pressed snugly up against your cervix, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. he continued to stretch your little hole out, ruthlessly pounding his thick cock into you more and more as you started to see stars. your walls started to flutter around him, letting him know that you were close without having to say a word.

"close already, darling?" he asked, "are you gonna cum for me again, hm?"

"y-yes!" you moaned, "ohmygod- i'm gonna-"

your words started to melt together at one point as you got lost in the pleasure of your high. soon enough, your soaking cunt was tightening up around his fat cock, and a clear liquid poured out from you.

of course — you were so turned on by the way he was screwing you that you'd squirted all over his bedsheets.

"oh, darling," he moaned, "that was so fucking sexy, jesus."

"j-jonathan, baby," you begged, "i-i can't-"

"you can, i promise," he groaned, "i'm close."

"p-please." you started to beg incoherently, the overstimulation making your head spin as your cunt fluttered around his cock again.

he continued to ram your tight pussy until his thrusts started to become sloppier and sloppier, and you could tell that he was close to the edge.

"cum i-inside," you begged him, "i need to be filled, fuck-"

"okay, okay," he panted as his he gave you a few more deep, harsh thrusts, 'm'gonna fill you up, darling."

you nodded, your head spinning as he finally came inside with a low groan, painting your walls white as he stuffed you with his warm seed. he stilled, staying inside of your warm hole for just a little longer to ensure you got every last bit of his cum, before pulling out his semi-hard cock.

he bit his lip as he watched his cum drip out of you (the sight of him biting his lip almost made you cum again), and he reached over to untie your wrists as you slumped down against the pillows. he laughed softly, pulling you into him as you instinctively cuddled into his arms.

he pulled the cat ear headband off your head, which you forgot you still had on, and tossed them to the side.

"i guess i'm going to have a hard time getting rid of you, huh? stalker." he joked, sighing as he took in all the details of your pretty face.

"you won't be able to get rid of me," you say softly, "i'm obsessed with you."

"good, i don't want you around anyone but me." he says, playing with your hair gently.

"i know," you giggle, "but stupid love potion was useless. i should've known you were already in love with me."

the both of you laughed softly, snuggled up in his bed as he told you all about what he did on the side for work — and all about his plans to fear gas gotham city.

jonathan trusted you with this because he knew there wasn't a line in existence that you wouldn't cross for him.

@ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a @xanaxiii

@seaamonster @nocturnest @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones @oceanstem

@futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt @ll4n4

@ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @aprilsfrog05 @wiseyouthinfluencer

@minedofmoria @strangeobsessed

[im-ovulating]

Could you pretty please add Jacob black to ur kinktober line up💗

(A/n: Kinktober Day 8/15! The previous fics have all been more serious, so I decided to lighten it up with this one.)

Word Count: 1,769

Summary- When making fun of porn together, you see a position that piques your interest; you and Jake decide to test it out.

Warnings: Watching porn together, trying a new position, no creampie/pulling out, attempt at humor

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jacob Black x Fem! Reader: Position

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

With your laptop balanced on your stomach, you look over at Jacob with a grin, his eyes locked on the screen as he watches the couple in the video move together. "Seriously, how can she keep up those moans?" you ask, poking fun at the exaggerated noises the girl is making. Jacob laughs, shaking his head in agreement, "I mean, I get the whole 'faking it for the camera' thing, but really?"

"Don't even get me started on the cringey-ass dirty talk he's doing-" You snort.

A few moments later, a new position caught your eye. The guy has the girl bent so far in half that her ankles are near her ears. "There's no way that feels good for her," you comment, leaning in closer to get a better look at the angle. There's an increase in her fake moans, naturally, but you can't stop thinking about how uncomfortable a bend would actually feel.

Jacob glanced at you before looking back at the screen, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "You know, I bet I could make it feel good," he challenged, his voice low and playful.

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically, "Yeah? You sure about that?." You challenge back, not fully convinced but intrigued by the thought of him trying.

Jacob chuckles and reaches over to grab the laptop, closing and setting it aside before crawling over top of you. He smirks down at you as he trails kisses along your jawline, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form on your skin. "Oh, 100%," He grins against your collarbone, reaching down to unbutton your shorts.

"That's what you said when you and Embry tried to prove that if he was on your shoulders and you timed your shifts right, you could stack your wolves," you giggle, lifting your hips so he can pull them off of you.

Jacob's grin turns into a deep laugh, his body shaking slightly against yours as his forehead drops to your shoulder. "Alright, miss smarty-pants," he says, biting you gently. "Let's try this and if it doesn't feel good for you, then we can go back to laughing at the people in the video, okay?"

You can't help but laugh a little as you agree. "Deal." You wrap your arms around his neck as he shifts his weight onto his elbows.

Jacob smirks down at you, his hands running softly up and down your thighs. "So," he starts, voice low and husky. "You ready?"

You nod, feeling a rush of excitement at his words. His lips press against yours softly, teasingly, as one of his hands sneaks beneath your shirt to cup your breasts. You sigh softly into the kiss, feeling the tingling sensation spread throughout your body.

With gentle hands, he starts tugging at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly to reveal your bare chest. "Fuck, that's hot," he mutters before continuing to pull the shirt off completely.

As your breasts are exposed to the cool air, Jacob's fingers trace circles around your nipples, making them harden into little peaks. His lips find their way back to yours, his tongue exploring your mouth eagerly.

You gasp softly into the kiss, arching your back slightly as he teases your nipples. His hands slide down to your waistband, tugging at your panties. "Hold on- this isn't fair. You're still fully dressed."

Jacob chuckles deep in his throat before reaching behind his head, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his muscled torso. "Fine, fine..." His shorts and boxers come off quickly, his erection springing free as his pants hit the floor. "There," he murmurs against your lips as he rejoins you on the bed. "That's now we're even."

With that, he leans in and presses his lips against yours, his tongue darting out to taste your lips. Your moan gets swallowed by the kiss as his hands slide under your panties, teasing your folds. You curse lightly as he finally slips a finger inside you, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

"Jake…" you breathe out his name, your voice laced with desire. His fingers move in and out of you in a slow rhythm that has you rocking your hips up to pull them even deeper.

Not long after he starts to finger you, he removes his hand. Before you can protest the loss, he's using your arousal as lube, pumping his hand along his cock with a few loose strokes.

Jacob moves to hook his arms under your knees, his throbbing erection resting against your entrance as he starts to press your legs forward. Just as you expected, the unnatural bend is a bit uncomfortable, but not nearly as much as you thought it'd be.

"This okay?" He asks when your ankles are near your head.

You nod. "Just-" you shift a bit. Keeping the bend, you lock your ankles behind his head and find that it alleviates any discomfort you had. "This is better," You say. It's less of the position you guys were originally going to attempt, but it's close enough for you to not care. With your legs now over his shoulders and his weight pressing you into the mattress, Jake starts to press into you.

You gasp, your back arching off the mattress slightly as he fills you up. "Oh, fuck..." You breathe out as he starts to stretch you out. "Please hurry up-" He's barely halfway in, pushing in slowly to gauge your reactions

He snorts in response. "Be patient," He says, his words coming out rough. "I just started."

You roll your eyes and smack his chest lightly. "Just fuck me already," you grin.

"Okay, okay, jeez- no need to get violent, beautiful," Jacob laughs before starting to thrust, his hips slapping against your ass with each movement.

As Jacob starts to thrust into you, the feeling of fullness is unlike anything you've ever experienced. The position has his hips angled just right, pushing deeper into you with each thrust than you've ever felt before.

Each time he hits that sweet spot inside you, you let out a moan of pleasure, your cunt clenching around him as if trying to drag him deeper.

His thrusts are steady and forceful, his arms braced on either side of you, supporting his weight. With your ankles locked behind his head, you can feel the muscles in his shoulders ripple as he powerfully fucks deeper into you.

You can feel every inch of him inside you, the head of his cock nearly brushing against your cervix with each downward thrust.

Your nails dig into his biceps, leaving small claw marks behind as you grip tighter. The pressure building in your lower belly is almost too much to bear in its intensity, but it feels too good for you to care.

He shifts to grip your hips tightly, pulling you against him with every movement. Your moans grow louder, more urgent as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

He thrusts harder. "God, you're so tight," He growls, his eyes meeting yours.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling him closer as your body trembles with anticipation. "More," you whisper, your voice husky with desire. "Please, Jake, I need you to make me cum." His cock is brushing against all the right places and it's driving you mad.

Jacob smiles against your lips, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder as he tries to please you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and the scent of sweat and arousal mixes in the air. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you need just a little more until you can let yourself tumble over it.

"Look at me," Jacob pants, his eyes full of lust. You obey, meeting his gaze as he continues to thrust into you. It's hard, but you manage to open your eyes just enough to see the look on his face.

His jaw is tense with the way he's gritting his teeth, and his brow is furrowed, creased in a way that would normally have you smoothing the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Jacob," you moan his name, your voice breaking. He looks at you intensely, seeing the desire in your eyes. It's all he needs to push him over the edge. His thrusts become more frantic, his breath coming in short gasps. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, aching for release.

You feel your body tensing up, every nerve ending on fire as Jacob continues to thrust into you. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can't help but moan his name with every thrust. Your eyes are closed tightly, lost in the moment.

And then it hits you - a wave of intense pleasure washes over you, causing your whole body to shake uncontrollably. "Jacob!" You cry out his name, arching your back off the mattress as far as you position will allow.

Jacob's thrusts slow down, and then he stops altogether. With a groan, he pulls out of you and wraps his hand around himself, his cock still hard and leaking pre-cum.

"Fuck," He mutters, his hand moving to stroke his cock in short, fast strokes. You watch, panting from your own release as he approaches his climax. Suddenly, Jake's hips jolt forward, and he lets out a hoarse cry as he releases himself onto your stomach. Warm, sticky fluid seeps into your skin, and makes you pull a face.

"Gross," You complain, playfully pushing him away by the face, making him huff out a laugh as he falls to the side to lay next to you.

Jacob rolls his eyes good-naturedly, his lips curling up into a smile. "Oh, shut up," He teases, swatting your shoulder lightly. "You love it when I do that."

You can't help but laugh at his response. "I do not!" You protest, feigning innocence. "It makes me all sticky." You stick your tongue out at him.

Jacob laughs again, this time more heartily. "I'll make sure to do it even more, just to gross you out, then." His wink is cut short by a pillow to the face and you saying, "You're literally the worst!"

He pulls you closer with another laugh. "You love me~"

When you don't deny it, he relaxes into the mattress. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he looks down at you with a mischievous grin. "You down to go again?"

"You just jizzed all over me, you horn dog!" you protest without any real heat. "But, ye-" You don't even get your answer out before he's rolling on top of you again and pressing his lips to yours in an eager kiss making you giggle.

[pantheresssy]

— paige bueckers and reader ⋆*. * ·

—┊⋆ summary: what’s supposed to be a funny and small photo shoot with you dressed with paige’s number five uconn shirt, had turned out a little bit … different.

— ┊⋆ cw: 18+, smut, cameras, oral (r), soft!dom!p, not-so-sub!r, fingering, hair pulling, cursing, your not really patient with p, video, big haired r, blood. | first time writing for her!! i’m still doing some research. sorry for any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language.

— ┊⋆ inspired by: paige walking around with that camera and not knowing how to use it … —

PAIGE LOOKED AT YOU with a smile while you tried to fit on her clothes. With her height, they were a little bigger than you and the shirt stopped in the middle of your thighs – no shorts for you. The ball was under your arm and your leg bent, looking at the camera with one of your eyes closed and your teeth out.

With her camera pointing at you, she moved side to side on the room, getting you from all the angles, all the lights. She knew that those pictures would come out perfectly and was already planning to post all of them, no exceptions. Paige guided you from times to times to switch your positions, in each corner and mobile that she wanted you to be. Pointing to her named written on the back of her shirt, sitting on the ball and with a whistle in your mouth. It was like the studio photoshoot that she did often … but with a hot looking photographer.

“Turn around and look at me over your shoulder.” She said, sitting in a chair to be at the same height as you were. You did as you were told, smiling and giving her your best intense look. Paige pressed the photo take button, the flash shining for the twentieth time in the last few hours. “Pull my shirt up, just a little bit.”

You brought the tissue up, letting it where your thigh meet your hip. Bringing your knee up again, leaning on your tip toes. She smiled for you and another one taken. “What’s next?”

Paige looked at you up and down, her head falling to the side. “On the mirror. I’ll be behind you.”

You both walked there and you bent down a little bit on the sink, not looking at the camera but your eyes. You copied one of your favorite photos of her, doing the same position and face as hers. She recognized what you were doing and laughed – this photo has been on your cellphone wallpaper for ages. A small piece of blonde hair and a part of the camera lens appeared in the picture, but it was more than perfect for her.

“More?” You asked, going to her side to see what she has already got and was surprised. She hummed at your question, turning the camera to the side so you could see the photos. Paige really had a great talent on making each one of them look so good.

The blonde looked at the curtains who were flying with the wind and back at you. Her eyes shone and you raised your eyebrows, waiting for what she would say: but she didn’t. All she did was take your arm and take you there. “Turn around.” She said.

You took your hair off to show her name again, doing what poses you thought it would be better. The flash shone, one, two, three, six times, before a ideia pop up on your mind … Still there, you discreetly pulled up the shirt bar, taking it out. Without a bra, your naked back and underwear was exposed for the camera. Paige’s breath caught on her throat when you turned to the side, the contour of your tits showing. She was quick on taking another pic, your smile growing.

Your nipples were hardening because of the cold air. With the camera on hand, your girlfriend was doing everything to take the perfect frame before straightening her back and look through them. “I want to take a picture with you facing me.”

You walked to the balcony and placed your hands there before doing, leaning your back against the iron bars and looking provocatively at the lens. Paige looked away from you for one second, down to the camera before placing it in front of her eyes. She murmured something about you being “fucking hot”, and focused on your tits. You made every position she (and you) thought it would be good, on the mirror again, on the kitchen pretending to cook something while posing. Not a room of your house was out.

That little playing photo section was having a lots of turnings, and in the middle, it had become a naked section. Lying on the ground, Paige copied you and adjusted her position to take your body. “I think it’ll be better without your underwear.”

“If I end up all over the internet i’ll murder you without remorse, Bueckers.”

She laughed, watching while you lay down on your back and rise up your hips, placing your thumbs on the withe fabric and pulling it out. You got back on your position, looking at her while letting your ass showing and nipple sneaking between your arms. She took the pic, licking her lips with the view and you felt proud burning on your body. You had Paige Bueckers, d1, on your hands.

She was making you her muse. You were sure she would hang one of those pictures somewhere in the bedroom. It remains to be seen if it was your naked ones or with her shirt. “Let’s make a video.” She said.

Getting up, you looked at her with your eyes nearly closed. “What type?”

Her eyes shone. “You decide. Those who I do for magazines, or our own.”

She was sitting now, the camera on her lap. You bit the inside of your lower lip, feeling taste of blood. Paige was waiting patiently while you decided, her finger playing with one of the buttons. You had made more than you did in your whole life in that few hours, she was the first one that you dared to be more bold with — even if you were having fun, it could be more risky … right? …

“Fuck me and film it.”

She raised her eyebrows and took your hand, pulling you closer. You took the camera off the way and sat where it was, wrapping your arms around her neck, blowing a little kiss on her lips. Paige put her hand in your hair, pulling and bringing you closer to her. Her tongue found yours, bending around yours in a domination dispute that you didn’t give up on easily.

You pulled her shirt up and she raised her arms, helping you take it off. She brought the camera closer to your face and you swallowed, nervously, trying to give your best smile. Paige took you to bed and lie down, you on top. She pushed you down by the hip, your pussy pressing against her stomach, and you started to move. A moan scape you, low.

With a not so confident confidence, you keept the moves and closed your eyes, your head falling to the front. Your hair fell from your shoulders and around your face, making a curtain with you, the camera and her. Your mouth flew open, the little sounds you made being captured, just like the noise of your pussy on her skin.

Paige lowered the camera, recording superficially without really showing anything, only your moves and the brightness of your juices that was left behind on her skin. Her own mouth was open, flatter with you, but hers didn’t make any sound but her quick breath. Your fingers caressed her belly, trying to have some comfort to get used to that moment, deciding to disconnect from everything and take advantage of the shocks that were being sent through your body.

“Paige.” You whispered. She raised her head, taking the camera with her and focusing on your face. You turned to the side, trying to hide, but she wasn’t having none of that. She made you turn again, holding your cheeks between her fingers so you would deep stare into the video.

You ride her until she thought that was enough, making you stand. Paige reversed the positions so that you were pressed on the mattress, your leg closing around her waist. She placed the camera on the mattress, you two now in the video. You were going to do your own porn … and that brought you butterflies to your stomach.

She lifted one of your legs, lying on top of you. Her mouth quickly found her favorite place in you: your mouth. The kiss was a mess of tongues and teeth, you two very hungry for the moment. When she pulled away, a thread of saliva kept you connected, only breaking when your head fell back after she put her finger on your nipple. Everything seemed to be too much, the feelings were too much. You were more sensitive than usual.

Paige’s mouth sucked where she was running her finger, her eyes focused on your face, watching your eyebrows frown with pleasure. Your hips went up, trying to go back for your rubbing, but she dismissed it, holding you with her hands on each side of your body. She was going to one nipple to the other, ravishing them with all of her attention, taking longer than you wanted. When she finally, finally, decided to keep going down, the cold air hit your hardened peaks, bringing a pleasurable squeeze when finding the saliva she left behind.

Her lips kissed up on your navel, passing by it and biting the end of your belly. She was close of your pussy and held your leg open, making your lips part and your clit be exposed for her eyes. Paige’s anxiety to prove you shone on her face and she took her mouth to the inside of your thigh, your scent closer to her nose. “You’re gonna kiss me the whole night?”

With your angry words, she stopped. “If I want, I will.”

Your hand went for where she didn’t seemed to want to touch so soon, the tip of your index tickling your folds. She hummed in protest, hitting you to make you stop. “Fucking do something.” You growled between your teeth.

Paige didn’t move for a while, leaving you there, in expectation. When you were starting to think that she wouldn’t do nothing, all of sudden, her tongue was licking all over. With your surprise, a loud moan scrapped your throat, your body getting up and your cunt sinking even more into her mouth. The blonde was still focus on you, seeing each pleasuring expression you’d make, biting your lip, your hair sticking on your forehead.

Seeing Paige Bueckers between your legs made you wetter every time.

Two fingers went up your ass, collecting your juices to use as a lubricant, then circling your entrance. Her hands, just like the rest of her, were big. Skinny, well trained fingers that, once inside, started to make wonders with you. Rubbing against your walls that squeezed her, telling her to stay in there and just move to give you pleasure. Paige was happy to follow, pulling the hood of your clit and caressing it, making you wet the sheets.

The first time you meet her, it was in one of her games. You didn't really know her, it was your first time watching a basketball match, but when you saw her so flawlessly placing the ball in the basket, you guessed she could do wonderful stuffs. A few days later your thoughts were proved right and, for what she had told you, hers too.

Since then, you both fucked for many times before any feelings were involved, ending up in a shared house and lots of more sex. She was perfect, and was even more when she curled her fingers inside you, like at that moment. Paige loved the sounds you made and always did everything to make them louder. You were happy to deliver what she wanted, reaching out for her and holding her head, her blonde locks soft against your skin.

You were red while she kept licking, sucking. You had never been wetter, being spreed all over her face, shining on her nose and chin, dripping back at your pussy. Your lungs were bending the effort trying to recover the air she was taking away. You took her wrist and squeezed her hand against your tit again: you both were stimulating it, giving you a bigger sensation.

“Don’t cum.” She said after she felt you start to move with her. That was a clear sign of what would come next. You complained, but you tried to contain yourself.

Your euphoria was mixing with the hot wind on the room that, even with the open windows, had taken you and her. Paige was sweating, you could see a line following down her back muscles. They were waving while she moved, eating you with a crazy hunger. You couldn’t know if you focus there or in other places, but your body decided for you when your eyelids closed involuntarily. The ability she had on the court was pale compared to what she did there.

Her tongue was shaking your clit, her lips closing and sucking just enough for you to gasp. At the same time, she speed up her hands moves, beating deep inside you. Your noise was loud and your smell was all over. Knowing her, you were sure Paige was more than happy to have you like that, doing everything and more to keep you on the edge.

You tried to do what she asked as longer as you could, but you hold on was impossible. Your walls tightened, her fingertips bending on your g-spot and making you see stars. Your hot cum flowed slowly down your pulsing walls, running down her fingers that were still moving.

Even unhappy that you hadn’t followed what she said, she helped you get down, caressing your clit and slowing gently inside you. After the post-orgastic fog came out of your mind, she got up and picked up the camera. Paige pointed it for your relaxed face and you smiled. “You’re looking beautiful.”

You stretched your arms over your head, prancing your breasts. Paige went down to them and back to you. “Is not fair that I’m the only actress, right?”

“No.” She jokes, smiling. You rolled your eyes and made her lie down, getting up on her body. You licked her neck and continued all over her glorious body, doing the same thing she did to you — the only difference being that she was much more patient than you were.

This time, the camera was filming everything from up close and from her angle; you being the one between her legs, her moans being the ones in the video.

[cameronwillow]

I’ll follow you until you love me

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Reuploaded!

When Eddie Munson first meets you, he’s instantly enamored. After he stumbles on your social media, he can’t resist every opportunity to know everything about you. Be near you. Even if it includes being a stalker.

Warnings! Stalker behavior! Talks of male masturbation! Oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Unedited and reuploaded from my previous account! Thank you to @bloodibambiidoll who helped me with this originally! I don’t actively write for Eddie but this is one of my favorites!

Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly was the better word. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time, also going through CDs in the metal section.

He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.

As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you have. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.

It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world. His thumb clicked on one particular picture where you were wearing his favorite color. It was a dress. A form fitting one. Rising to your mid thigh. Showing off your perfect legs that he so badly wanted to dig his fingers in. Your breasts were pushed together, the shiny heart shaped necklace above your chest aching for him to tug on as he pounded into you.

His fantasies didn’t end there. The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.

One night, you post your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.

His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.

He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disk. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black. You always wore dark colors too. But would you even notice him? He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.

It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.

“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-

Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth. Fuck. Your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-

“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.

“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.

“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.

He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.

“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.

“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.

“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.

“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.

“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”

Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.

Yet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”

He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted to carve the sounds into his memory forever. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.

Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.

He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.

Eddie memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.

He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he was considering fucking building a new one if that allowed him to buy more from you.

The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind CD was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.

He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. His chest expanded when you adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street. Fuck.

He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hand trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car? Fuck. He didn’t know. He didn��t know anything at all. Why wouldn’t someone take you home?

Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own. But next to the door where you entered, was a large window. Of course, blinds concealed whatever was on the inside.

He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.

His dick was growing hard. Your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.

No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.

The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.

He fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you. Fuck, he needed to see you and your perfect face. Perfect body.

He wanted to touch himself. He wanted to imagine your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is pushing you further. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.

You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.

It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.

He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.

Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.

Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?

As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”

He froze.

Eddie turned around and there you were.

This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.

“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.

You sighed in relief.

“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.

“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.

You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.

“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.

The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”

You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.

“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.

“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.

Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.

“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.

“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.

Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.

Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.

Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.

The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.

His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.

And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.

Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.

The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.

Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?

There.

His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.

No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.

Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.

You spun around.

“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.

Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.

You sounded…playful.

He tilted his head. “I was-“

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.

Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.

He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“

“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”

He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.

He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.

Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.

“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.

“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.

You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.

Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.

“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.

Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.

Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”

He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”

Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.

“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”

Dividers by @cxrrodedcoffin

Tagging @cxrrodedcoffin @bloodibambiidoll @userchai @stillwjk-channie-lixie @littlexdeaths @loserboysandlithium @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @taintandviolent @starkeysprincess @oceanblvd111 @marchsfreakshow @eddiesxangel @xxladymjxx

[luvhughes43]

sweetener | jack hughes

au masterlist⭐️ (apart of the journalist! au)

the previous part is linked here !

word count: 5.8k

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Three hurried knocks sound out from my front door and I rush out into the entry way as if whoever is behind that door will dissipate at a moment's notice. Of course I know that wouldn't happen, because Jack Hughes is standing on the other side of my door and all week he’s been updating me on his schedule and when he’d be able to meet our daughter. 

He’s been saying that a lot, our daughter. Which, he’s right. Leighton is our daughter but the word our feels so completely foreign to me that my mind reels and my heart races every time I hear him say it. Which is another thing, because Jack is a serial texter and yet, every night this past week without fail he’s called me to talk. He’s completely committed to being a father, and now that the paternity test came back telling us what we already know, Jack is coming to meet Leighton. Our daughter. 

Jack knocks again, and I quickly comb through my hair with my fingers before slowly opening the door. 

“Hey,” Jack waves awkwardly, unsure of what to do when you’re about to meet your secret baby for the first time. We both shuffle around my entryway awkwardly, before I gesture for Jack to sit on my couch. 

“Do you want water or anything to drink?” I ask lamely, twisting a lone baby blanket that was sprawled across the back of the couch in my hands. Jack shakes his head and then rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

What were you supposed to say to someone who was meeting their baby for the first time? Somebody that you had so much history with? Somebody who, despite everything that happened, still has a prominent place in your heart? You wouldn’t know. 

Jack opens his mouth, before quickly shutting it again. 

“I’ll go get Leighton,” I nod dumbly, as if that wasn’t the whole reason that we were both here. I’m not normally this awkward around Jack but… under the circumstances any sort of social queues I know have gone right out of the window. I don't let Jack reply before I shuffle out of the room. 

Leighton is dressed in a pink one piece onesie which was a gift from Jack’s mother, Ellen. Who for the last week has been texting me and sending things over to the apartment. 

As soon as Jack hears my footsteps, he's rushing to his feet and facing us. “Oh wow…” he murmurs as soon as he lays eyes on our daughter. “This is so much better than the pictures and videos…” he trails off again, referring to the numerous videos I've sent him of our daughter this past week. 

“Do you want to hold her?” I ask, to which Jack immediately nods. I gesture for him to sit back down on the couch and he happily obliges. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Jack awes as I shift Leighton to rest into his arms. I’m not surprised that I don’t have to tell Jack how to hold a baby properly, he’s always been so well versed with children. Even when we were dating babies and kids just seemed to gravitate towards him, making it easy for him to handle kids.

Tears rush to Jack’s waterline as he holds his daughter for the first time. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away as they freely run down his cheeks. “I have a baby,” he whispers, gaze soft as he stares at our little girl. “Hi Leighton,” he says again, voice slightly louder as he tries to get the young girl's attention. She smiles up at him gummily, before reaching a chubby hand out and latching onto one of her dad’s fingers. 

I silently pull my phone out of my pocket and capture the sweet moment between the two. I had imagined this moment for months, but no dream would ever compare to what was sitting before me. Jack softly cooing at our daughter, completely in awe of her would be something that I would never forget. 

⋆ ★

When Jack looks back on the past year, he can’t help but wince. If he was more mature maybe he wouldn’t have let you walk away so easily - maybe he would have seen through Vivienne's deceptions and would have realized that he wasn’t truly happy with her. After meeting his daughter and getting to spend time with you in person today he made a promise to himself that he would do better for himself and for his family. 

His family. Whom he had just fully met a few hours ago and yet his happiness still hadn’t slowed or ebbed away yet. It was all so incredibly surreal.

“Like I'm telling you, that was the most.. Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jack spoke hurriedly on the phone to his older brother Quinn. “I have a daughter, and she’s real, and I held her today,”

“That’s really great,” 

“She grabbed a hold of my finger! She has a really good grip, probably going to be better than all of us at hockey,” Quinn only laughed in response. 

“When can I meet her?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, I'll have to talk to y/n about everything. We’re taking it slow right now you know? Just trying to get me comfortable with the baby and all that,” Jack answers, excitement still laced in his voice. “Mom sent Leighton some things though which… Leighton… What a pretty name? Like I have a daughter”

“I’m really happy everything's starting to work out for you,” Quinn responded. After all the dramatics of the past few weeks, the future was finally starting to brighten.

“Thank you,” Jack replied honestly, mind still reeling from the day's events. “I have a family.” 

⋆ ★

ynuser

liked by jackhughes, claudia, and others

ynuser my whole world🤍

jackhughes added to their story !

⋆ ★

“Are you okay? Why are you smiling so hard?” my best friend said to me as I finished doing my makeup. 

“What? I’m fine!”

“No seriously, what’s going on?” Claudia continues, easily seeing past my poorly constructed lies. 

“Jack’s coming over to see Leighton tonight,” I can’t help the smile on my face as it grows. Jack’s coming over. How long have I waited to say that? Now that this whole mess is behind us, we’ve really started to carve out a routine for ourselves. Jack would make the trip to NYC as much as he could within his schedule, and he’d come over and spend time with Leighton and I. Everything is finally starting to fall into place, and so sue me for getting a little excited that he had the whole evening free to spend time with Leighton and I. 

Claudia rolled her eyes, “You’re moving fast,”

At her words, my forehead scrunches. I don’t like the way she said it, moving fast, it sounds like she disapproves of Jack and I starting to co-parent.

“Well, we already have a kid together so I think it’s a little too late for ‘moving fast’” I remark, busying myself in my makeup bag so she doesn’t see the clear displeasure coating my features. 

Claudia studies me for a minute and I wish she wouldn't. I understand that Jack’s and I’s situation is completely out of the ordinary and that we were childish and immature before. But honestly, how else are we supposed to go about this situation if not barrel straight ahead? We waited for him to meet Leighton until the paternity was settled, we created a clear schedule for his visits and we’ve spent hours discussing how we would go about co-parenting. 

“Nothing I guess,” she shrugs simply. I reach for my powdered blush and messily reapply.

It’s tense for the next five minutes it takes for me to finish my makeup.

 “Well, how “fast” should we be going? Because, I know I'm trying the best that I can here. We have a history, and we have a baby, so i’m sorry if you think things seem to be going “too fast” for you,” 

“You're right, I'm sorry” Claudia immediately apologizes, probably not realizing how her words had offended me earlier.

Ever since Jack started making a reappearance in my life Claudia’s had an attitude about it… always wanting to sprinkle little comments here and there. I get that she’s overprotective, but she takes it too far with Jack. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t here for my pregnancy and the first few months of Leighton’s life. 

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “Things have been… nice recently and I just need this to work out.” 

Claudia nods in understanding, and it makes me want to take my apology back.

When Jack comes over two hours later, any sense of annoyance or stress I was feeling immediately dissipates. We do our usual, watch over Leighton and play with her. She’s only a few months old and so there’s not much that she can do yet besides smile and play peek-a-boo, which I'm learning Jack excels at. 

“And… peek-a-boo!” the hockey player enthuses for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening to an excited baby. Leighton face scrunches up as she lets out another round of loud laughs, which immediately causes Jack and I to giggle.

“We have the cutest kid!”

“We really do,” Jack replies, eyes trained on our daughter who's smiling up at him. I leave the two to play as I make my way into my kitchen. It’s already getting quite late and since Jack’s keeping Leighton entertained… I might as well make dinner before he has to leave and I have to watch over her again. She always gets fussy closer to her bedtime, making it essentially impossible to cook dinner before she’s asleep. 

I pull out all of my necessary ingredients before pausing. “Jack?”

“What?” he calls out. 

“Are you staying for dinner? I’m making pasta” I respond, walking back into the living room so we don't have to yell. 

“Ohh can I? I’ve missed your cooking so much,” 

He missed my cooking… it was such a simple task and yet my heart melted… There was so much we seemed to be missing of each other these days.

Dinner coincidentally ends up being ready just as soon as Jack finishes putting Leighton to bed.

“It’s crazy to think that we’re parents,” Jack voices his thoughts aloud in between bites of his dinner. “Like, really. Were mother and father… like that's insane,”

“Are you having doubts?” I joke, knowing that he’s fully committed to being a father. His amazon cart alone proves that with all the toys and outfits he has ordered for our daughter. 

“No never! Are you kidding me? Being with you two… it feels right,” 

I giggle and end up having to cover my mouth with my hands. 

“What?”  

“I’m sorry that was just really cute,” I explain myself, lowering my hands so that Jack could see my wide smile which he immediately reciprocates with his usual gorgeous smile. 

Jack leans his head on the palm of his hand, and things finally feel like they used to. If I wanted to I could reach my hand out and hold his, but just knowing that he was here was enough. For so many months I wished that what I was seeing now would become true and now everything had finally turned out. 

“I’m really happy y/n”

“I’m really happy too,” my face tingles, but unlike my smile I make no move to cover the redness that was no doubt coating my cheeks. 

⋆ ★

Now that I am back from maternity leave, it seems like my boss is trying to punish me. I’m constantly getting all of the shitty news stories, and I've been getting less opportunities to get out on the field. Therefore, I've been stuck in the office all day writing fluff pieces about influencers and brands that “you need in your life!”. 

So, when I got the call that there was an important story that I could work on but it would mean I had to come into the office on my day off… well… I was going into the office. 

Now usually I had somebody to watch Leighton on the days that I work, but there was just no way that I would be able to find somebody to watch her on such a short notice. So, I did the only thing that I could think of and asked Jack if he was willing to watch Leighton by himself… for the first time. 

The day started out simply enough. Jack had come over to y/n's apartment early with breakfast and some coffee for the both of them. He listened dutifully to y/n explaining Leightons morning routine, and he prepared the baby a fresh bottle with no stress. Even after y/n had left for work, Jack had been running the place smoothly and without any hiccups. Which is why around mid-afternoon when Leighton refused her bottle that Jack had panicked.

“Okay, please just eat. I know you're hungry,” he cooed to the small girl who was cradled tightly against his chest. She squirmed, tears running down her face at a rapid speed. 

He had rocked Leighton, burped her, walked around the apartment with her bundled in his arms all in hopes of her quieting down. When nothing worked he had checked her diaper, changed it although it was clean, and warmed up her bottle again in case that may have been the issue. She continued on wailing.

“Please Leighton, eat for daddy please. Settle down, it's okay!” He tried his hardest but nothing was working. He debated on calling his parents but ultimately thought it was pathetic that he didn’t know how to take care of his own child. He had missed out on so many months with his girl, what if he fucked today up and was never allowed to take care of her again? Jack started to spiral. 

Another painstakingly long hour went by, and Jack felt as if he had truly lost his mind. Nothing was helping Leighton settle down, and now Jack was so far behind y/ns schedule that he was feeling beyond hopeless. 

“Just- okay just eat!” Jack tried again, but every time Leighton got close to the bottle she would shift her head away and cry. “I don't know how to help you!” he rocked his daughter in his arms. “Please, help me help you,” 

It was to no surprise that Leighton kept crying. So Jack did the only thing that he could think of doing next, he walked swiftly to Leightons crib and left her there. Once she was confined in her crib, he simply walked out of her room and back into the living room where he fished his headphones out of his bag. 

Jack's shoulders sagged in relief when the first few chords of some country song played. 

I’m not a good dad

I don’t know what to do

How am I supposed to be a father?

After two more songs played in their entirety, Jack called his mom. 

“Are you okay…?” I ask as soon as I catch sight of Jack whose shoulders were sagging. 

“Listen, everyone has already asked me that tonight so I don't need to hear it again. you don’t need to lecture me”

“Excuse me? I don’t even know what’s wrong?” “It was my first time watching my daughter, and I fucked up, I know”

“Jack… I'm not mad at you?” 

“Right, whatever” he says, gathering all his belongings that were scattered throughout my apartment and stuffing them in his bag. 

I stare at him in confusion, “Can we talk about this?”

Jack continues stuffing shit in his bag, and I walk towards him and place a firm hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, twisting towards me. “I don't want to talk about it,” 

I scoff, patience truly wiening thin. “Well, I’m Leighton’s mother and I would like to talk about what happened”

“I can’t do this with you tonight” Jack sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“Do what? Communicate?”

“Look, i’ve had a rough week at work and i’ve been a shit dad tonight so I really don’t need to hear you bitch at me right now”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t talk to me like that.” 

“Like what!” Jack says defensively. 

“Saying I'm going to bitch at you! I want us to talk through things. You getting upset over a few minor mistakes isn’t going to get us anywhere. Leighton is fine, you’re fine, so tell me what’s really going on so that we can get past this”

Jack scoffs, “there's nothing going on”

“Well, you’re being all rude and defensive so there must be something” I snark, truly fed up with Jack’s behaviour. I understand that today was a lot for him, and maybe it wasn’t the best idea for him to watch Leighton for a full day when he’s only used to a few hours but he can at least try and speak nicely to me. 

“You know what? I don’t need this right now” Jack says, breaking his stance and making quick steps towards the door. 

I’m hot on his heels and he yanks the door open. “Jack?”

He slams the door, and i’m left reeling with whatever the fuck just happened. 

⋆ ★

3 weeks later...

DEUXMOI

liked by vivienne, and others

deuxmoi Jack Hughes seems to be a topic of demand recently…. But don’t worry! Viviennes new podcast episode will cover everything you need to know and more! Stay tuned

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user19 vivienne sending her own “tip” into deuxmoi just so she can get views on her new podcast episode… deuxmoi hits a new low every day

user20 this is actually so embarrassing omg

user21 nhl players on deuxmoi is my worst nightmare tbh

user22 theyve been on here for awhile lol its nothing new

user23 ohhhh i’ll be tuned in!

user23 he definitely cheated on her omgggg😭😭

⋆ ★

Pretty Girls Podcast EP 22: Mr. NHL Man

[audio] timestamp: 24:33 - 1:13:03

Co-host: Okay maybe we should address the elephant in the room!

Vivienne: The elephant in the room? I’m crying… [laughs], but yes everybody is here to know about my ex-boyfriend situation so let's just get into it

Co-host: Right so… 

Vivienne: Okay so Jack Hughes!

[both laugh]

Co-host: Oh we're just coming right out and saying it!

Vivienne: I mean everybody knows

Co-host: Right, so let's get into it. What's the story? Because you’ve only told me parts of the story but I don't-

Vivienne: I haven't really gone into detail with anybody yet so this is like, an exclusive

Vivienne: But anyway… as we all know… Jack and I were seeing each other for a while and we were pretty official by the time I did the podcast with Alix Earle. So there was this whole bit of Alix calling her boyfriend “mr. nfl man” and so I teased Jack by calling him Mr. NHL man.

Co-host: Right as one does! And I just want to add, Vivienne and Jack were - you guys were kind of serious at this point. Like your relationship wasn’t just a fling like there’s a reason you're talking about it on the pod. 

Vivienne: Yeah we were fully dating by that point. Like he was staying over at my apartment and things like that. 

Co-host: How did you guys get together? You should tell the whole story, like I'm already sensing the hate comments you’ll get if you don’t tell this right.

Vivienne: Okay. So, I met Jack through a mutual friend of ours and that's how we started talking. We went on a few dates to bars and things, and we really got along well, or at least I thought we did. 

Co-host: Were there any warning signs?

Vivienne: Honestly… 

Vivienne: Things were really good between us and we had a “normal” relationship for the first few months. Like we got together around the beginning of the hockey season, and we broke up like, right before he went on personal leave if you guys keep up with the NHL side of things.

Vivienne: But basically we were doing completely fine and it wasn’t until people started catching on that Jack and I were dating that things became rocky. 

Co-host: I've also seen a lot of things about an ex that he had? Like I'm just going to come out and say it, did he cheat on you?

Vivienne: Honestly, till this day I don't really know. 

Co-host: What? What do you mean?

Vivienne: He didn't tell me why we broke up. Like, I'm being so serious. One day he came over to my apartment and just broke up with me and then unfollowed me on everything. 

Co-host: Oh my god??

Vivienne: Honestly, I think it's because of his ex. Like, the amount of times I caught him searching through his photo albums of her is insane.

Co-host: What an asshole oh my god?? Do you know if they got back together or if they were talking while you two were still together?

Vivienne: No they weren’t talking

Co-host: How do you know?

Vivienne: I uh… 

Co-host: Did you go through his texts or something?

Vivienne: Well… [short pause].. No I didn’t- well- I know he wasn’t

Co-host: Okay…

Vivienne: But it was clear there was something going on there [weak laugh]

Co-host: Damn…

Vivienne: But anyway, he broke up with me unexpectedly and I just don't know why

Co-host: To be honest it sounds like he cheated on you and just didn't want to own up to it.

Vivienne: Yeah… I mean possibly. The ex thing was..

Co-host: He was just using you as a distraction and that really sucks for you.

Vivienne: It's just an awful situation. Like it was clear that he was still hung up on his ex and now I look like an idiot in front of everyone for making our relationship public.

Co-host: I don't think you look like an idiot. You thought the relationship was going to work out and now people are flooding your comment section begging to know what happened. Plus, it's Jack's fault anyway. Like he's no stranger to cheating allegations so what are you supposed to do?

Vivienne: Yeah… my dms are full of his fans basically blaming me for the breakup when they don't even know what happened. 

Vivienne: So, I just want it to be clear that I did nothing. Like I didn't want us to break up. 

Co-host: Even though you knew about the ex?

Vivienne: Yeah… I just felt so… like our relationship was really good I think I would have put up with anything. But now that it’s over i'm stuck looking back and… well it’s clear he maybe wasn’t always faithful or he had commitments with his ex. 

Co-host: Gosh…

Vivienne: But that's honestly it. After this episode is over I'm not talking about this. It's honestly really hurtful…

[end of snippet]

⋆ ★

“y/n i’m so sorry,” Jack's words are fast as he paces the floor of my entryway. He had a game in a few hours which he would no doubt be late for, seeing as he’s all the way in New York City instead of Newark.

“What are you doing here? You have a game?” I wonder aloud, Leighton softly cooing from her spot on my chest. 

Jack pauses at the sound of his daughter and his eyes visibly soften. “I’m really sorry,”

“I wasn’t mad at you,”

“I’m just afraid to mess things up again,”

“Jack…”

“And I'm sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t your fault that I got upset,” 

I walk towards Jack and place a comforting hand on his arm, mindful of our daughter that was strapped to my front.

“I should have stayed,” he says into my hair, his arm coming around to hold onto me. 

I turn my body to hold him properly, and Leighton babbles away as she’s wedged between her parents. “You were overwhelmed. You're not used to watching her all the time and that’s okay,”

“I should be okay watching her while you’re at work I just-”

“You have to be kind to yourself,” I start, slowly pulling yourself away from Jack to lead the two of us into the living room. “It took me a long time to learn Leightons needs and how to read her. With more time you’ll learn and become more comfortable,”

Jack nods reluctantly, ultimately realizing that what I was saying was the truth. We sit in silence for a while, both wanting nothing more than to move on from this situation. 

“Come to my game tonight?” Jack breaks the silence. “You and Leighton? Please?” 

“You want us to come… tonight?” I question. Was this a good idea? 

Jack nods and takes Leighton out of my hands. “I think she should come to her first game,” 

“Okay….” I’m slow to agree. When Jack and I were dating, I barely went to his games. He never really invited me, and I had always felt weird about asking. With our relationship so private, we usually just appreciated each other’s careers from afar. 

Jack looks away from our daughter and back up at me, “I've talked to management about our… situation and they’re okay with you sitting in the box with Nico since he’s out” Jack explains. “It’ll be completely safe, and if you're worried about the drive to the stadium I’ve got my car and I can drive you” 

“What about afterwards?” 

“I can drive you back here after the game or you can stay at my place… I've… i've bought a bassinet for Leighton and some things if you guys want to stay the night,” 

“Okay,” I agree easily now. “Let me pack some of our stuff and we’ll stay with you tonight,”Jack looks beyond relieved at my words.

njdevils

Liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and others

njdevils Jack is back and meeting some fans 🔥

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes ❤️

_quinnhughes Love to see it

user24 jack and quinns comments… okay….

user25 jack is such a girl dad ugh! so cute!

user26 jack would be such a good dad im crying

user27 hold on is that his ex gf?? she looks like the same girl from the fan pics

user28 omfg wait???

⋆ ★

nhl.drama

liked by hughesl0ver43, and 351 others

nhl.drama jack hughes ex gf, vivienne aiden, reveals in her podcast that jack seemingly broke up with her for no reason. she also claims that he would constantly look at pictures of his ex gf while they were together, and he may have possibly cheated. what are your thoughts?💭

-

#jackhughes #nhl #vivienneaiden #confession #nhldrama

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user29 this is honestly just ridiculous like she clearly made this all up

user30 ? what how do u know

user29 she kept rambling on, couldn't confirm if Jack cheated or not, and just started bringing up his ex gf? And also, if she really didn’t know why he broke up with her/would still go back to him.. why would she make a whole podcast about it? it fr doesn't make sense

user31 They said Jack has a history of cheating? How would they even know that i’m so confused

user32 viv was his ex lmao im sure somebody warned her about him.

user33 i think it’s so weird that some of u guys are sticking up for jack… like vivienne sounded so sad / upset during the podcast… like he obviously did something wrong regardless of if shes telling the truth or not.

user34 she did not sound upset at all… she was legit laughing throughout the whole podcast and she could not make up her mind on which “story” she was gonna tell. she clearly lied and i hope jack sues her ass🤷‍♀️

user35 the timeline of this whole thing is so interesting tbh. like what ex are they talking about? also, i wish viv confirmed why jack took a personal leave lol. she left out all the interesting bits

user36 “ex gf” …. do yall think it was the girl from last year ? istg they refollowed each other after vivienne and jack broke up

user37 this whole drama is so lame IMO. just another girl looking for her 5 seconds of fame… nobody should care if jack cheated or not because his job is to play HOCKEY. honestly who gaf about his personal life

user38 his personal life is bleeding into his game lol. 

user39 LEAVE HIM ALONE MY GOD!!!!! U KNOW NOTHING. 

⋆ ★

Vivienne's podcast episode about her breakup with Jack had gone viral overnight. Everybody online was speculating about their relationship, as well as trying to prove each side right. Some of Jack's fans were trying hard to prove that Vivienne was lying and well, gossipers around the world were sticking up for Vivienne and trying to confirm that Jack is a serial cheater. 

Thankfully for Vivienne, she just had to sit back and enjoy the show. She knew that there was absolutely no way that Jack would come out and deny the cheating rumours, plus she knew y/n was private on everything and wouldn't come forward either. The drama would run its course for a few days until something better came along, and then Vivienne would be completely off the hook for everything. 

Alix E: just watched the pod! i hope you’re doing well❤️

Tana M: HE CHEATED ON YOU?? that's actually crazy. youre so fucking pretty. ugh, men are awful. If you ever wanna come on the cancelled podcast you're always welcome!

Alex C: Men are the worsttttt. Youre absolutely winning life though so make him regret it!💋

Everything seemed to be falling right into the palm of Viviennes hands. While Jack finding out about the whole y/n thing was a colossal nightmare, the support from her peers almost made up for it. She now had deals lining up the block, and she knew her career would only sky rocket from here on out. 

While being with Jack had pulled in massive numbers, the breakup was just insane for her social blade. She had gained soo many more followers across all platforms after posting Jack on her story, plus naming him in her podcast was just… it was honestly too good. A pr dream… It was going to be Viviennes year. 

⋆ ★

As soon as the small family made it back to Jack’s apartment after the game, they were all exhausted. Leighton had fallen asleep well into the second period, and had surprisingly stayed asleep despite how loud the arena was.

Jack quietly guided his girls into his bedroom. He set Leighton in her bassinet, and then helped me organize some of the things I brought over.  

“I haven’t been here in so long,” I mumbled as I pulled my toiletries out of her bag. 

“Well you're always welcome,” Jack whispered back as he silently watched me fumble around in the darkness.

“Shit, I forgot pyjama pants and all I have are jeans…” 

Jack immediately stands from his position in bed, mindful of the fact that Leighton is peacefully sleeping in the recently purchased bassinet. “You can have a pair of my sweats if you want?” he whispers as he walks over to his dresser and pulls out options. 

“It’s okay,”

“I’m not letting you sleep in jeans that's foul,” Jack says quietly as he gives me a pair of his sweats.

“Thank you,” my face heats up. If I wasn’t thinking about our history before, now I am. Everything was becoming a little too much… if I closed her eyes I could still picture the way things used to be. How we’d stay in his apartment and well… yeah.

Jack turned away just then, settling himself in his bed so that I could finish getting ready. He hadn’t thought too far ahead in their sleeping arrangements, and just as he started to worry that y/n might’ve found her way to the couch he felt a dip in his mattress. 

“Do you mind if…?”

“No I uh- No I don’t” Jack stuttered, completely caught off guard by their newfound closeness. 

“Thanks for tonight,” I whispered, snuggling into all of Jack’s blankets and excess pillows, all of which were bought when we were still together. 

“No worries,”

“I mean it though. Thanks for talking to me in person earlier and for driving us to the game” I continued sleepily. “And for letting us stay here tonight,” 

“Of course. Anything for my girls,” 

When there was no answer, Jack looked over to y/n's side of the bed only to find that she was already fast asleep. He checked the bassinet afterwards to find his daughter sleeping peacefully as well. Jack sighed in contentment before drifting off to sleep himself. 

My girls,

My girls, 

My girls..

Life was sweet.

next part

-

-

-

[onismdaydream]

no no i see the vision - nanami teaching yuji patience… discipline. yuuji who’s so eager and excited and nanami just reigns him in, its unspoken but nanami is in charge and when his voice cuts through the moans and whimpers as yuuji gets carried away…..

anon i am kissing u omg thank u...

this is so messy but my brain just kept going ! so um ramble under the cut :3

yeah exactly like. the first time yuji meets you, he absolutely falls in love. doesn't even realize it, he just becomes obsessed with you. you just look so cute and perfect.. soft little dog ears and that cute little tail that always wags so fast... you're so affectionate too, licking and kissing yuji as soon as nanami introduces him to you. because of course, if your owner trusts yuji, then he must be a good person.

i think nanami knows he has to go away for a longer mission, knows that he can't leave you alone for that long, so he asks yuji to do him a favor, to take care of his puppy. not only is yuji eager to please his mentor (i thought i told you not to call me that.), but hes always been curious to spend more time with you, so he easily agrees and finds himself packing his stuff to stay with you. (nanami is not letting his sweet puppy stay with yuji in his own apartment - he's seen how yuji lives)

and because you're so precious to nanami, he takes the time to show yuji how exactly to take care of you - what you are going to expect from the pink haired sorcerer. when you eat and what you like to eat, how to help you bathe and get dressed and how you like your hair brushed, anything to make sure your schedule doesn't get messed up. your owner might spoil you a bit, but can you blame him? (i think nanami just wants to take care of someone, so he does spoil and baby you a bit, but you don't complain one bit)

yuji listens intently to everything nanami says, wanting to earn your trust and prove himself to his mentor even more. he blushes when nanami mentions bathing, though the older man says that you should be able to do it on your own, sometimes you still ask for help - something your owner could never refuse.

the puppy-sitting for lack of a better word, goes relatively smoothly. yuji gives nanami updates for when he can check his phone and on the night before your owner comes home, you video call him. nanami's face instantly relaxes as you come on screen, grinning from ear to ear. you tell him how much you love yuji (not as much as you love nanami of course), hugging his arm and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, and you ask if yuji can visit more.

and nanami, never able to say no when you look at him with those big eyes and pouty lips, allows yuji to spend more time with you. it works out because nanami sometimes doesn't have the energy after long work days to give you the attention you deserve and ask for. so yuji steps in. yuji has a bit more free time and a lot more energy to play with you and take you out around the city.

but then, your heat hits you when nanami is at work. he asked yuji to check on you and tell you that he'll be home an hour or so late. yuji finds you in nanami's room, hips frantically humping his pillow as you whine and cry. he immediately calls nanami and tells him what he saw (apologizing because he feels guilty, especially because he might've stared longer than he should've..), but instead of getting berated like yuji believed he would, nanami asks him if he could comfort you in some way. just until nanami could get home and properly take care of you.

thats how you ended up grinding your drippy cunt on yuji's thigh, his cock straining against his shorts as he tries desperately to not lose control. nanami said he could do anything that you asked him to (within reason) but yuji still felt guilty, felt like he was taking advantage of you. you whine and pant, drool falling from your mouth as you get off for the nth time, though it's still not enough. you're about to try begging yuji to fuck you again when nanami comes home, your ears instantly perking up as you hear the lock jingle, though you don't run towards him like yuji expected. no, you keep grinding your hot core on him.

and nanami doesn't stop you either. he asks you how you feel, big hands gentle on your overheated face as you cry out for more, tears springing in your eyes. yuji feels entirely out of place, feels like he's intruding, but you bury your face in his neck and plead for him to help you. "p-please, need to be fucked, yuji, please."

you sound so pretty, how could either of them deny you? so nanami instructs yuji on exactly what you like, his fist around his thick cock as he watches the pink haired sorcerer slide himself into you, his eyes fluttering shut at the warmth surrounding his length. yuji wants to move fast, needs to move fast with the way you're squeezing him, but nanami's stern voice makes him savor it. telling him to go slower, to make sure that you really feel everything yuji's giving you. and yuji always listens to nanami (well, as much as he can..), so he does. he slows his hips, full and lazy thrusts that make each inch feel even longer, each drag against your spongy spot even more intense. nanami tells yuji to spit on his hand and rub your clit, so yuji spits and rubs, keen eyes watching your expressions to find the right movement.

the way your pussy tightens around him when you cum makes him grit his teeth, a hiss slipping through as he tries to not bust his load. but god, you feel so good. you look so pretty, too. it feels like an eternity before your walls relax, letting him slip out. he's done this before, always pulls out and strokes his cock to finish, it's what's expected of him. but nanami's voice stops him once again.

"did i tell you to stop?"

[duc-kie]

Could you write about Lando after his p2 in Singapore and he goes full dominative on you? Maybe that you went out before with Carlos and a couple of the other drivers to celebrate the Singapore podium and you have been teasing him the whole night and he’s completely done with it?

Okay I know I took a really long time to answer and I’m genuinely sorry. I’ve been going feral over the video below. It also inspired me to make this blurb🤭

This looked better in my head tbh. Written it just feels really random and idk. Still hope you like it though!

THE FINGERS, THE RING, THE GENTLENESS, JUST HIM IN GENERAL

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

You were enjoying yourself on the dance floor with some of your friends, while your boyfriend Lando was celebrating his podium with some fellow drivers. This whole night has been crazy, full of sexual tension and teasing touches between the two of you.

You've been craving Lando the whole day. All you wanted was his touch all over you and he knew it. You tried to seduce him but he wouldn't give in, so you decided to wear the sexiest dress you own to the after party for his Singapore P2 finish.

His eyes widened when you arrived with your girlfriends. You enjoyed a few drinks and were quite tipsy and consequently even hornier so you made your way to the table where Lando and his friends were chatting and having drinks. You greeted them all before sitting on Lando's lap and taking a sip of his whiskey. Licking your lips, you leaned down to kiss him.

When you started moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his already semi hard dick he had enough. He excused you both and basically dragged you to a just slightly more private corner and pinned you against the wall. His knee found it’s way between your legs, pressing on the spot where you’ve been craving his touch for a while. "You still wanna play games?" he asked wrapping a hand around your neck. "but what about all the people Lando?" you asked looking around to see if anyone is looking at you. "you didn't seem to care before, did you?" he asked and before you could answer he shoved his tongue down your throat.

You couldn't help but start grinding on his knee that was still between your thighs. letting our quiet moans.

You pulled away from the kiss catching your breath and looking around wondering how many people are watching you. he grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him telling you to keep your eyes on him. "these people are too drunk to care what we're doing, don’t worry" he reassured you before taking your hand and leading you through the crowd to the VIP area.

There was no one there so you felt slightly more at ease. Lando didn’t waste any time and quickly continued what you started. Pinned against the wall you felt his fingers drag your panties down your legs. He took them off and stuck them in his pocket.

His lips then quickly found their way to your neck. He knew where all your sweet spots were and he made sure he left a mark on every single one. Moans and needy whimpers left your lips from the wet and warm feeling on your neck. Your hands made their way up his arms to play with his hair.

Lando reached down to gently rub your clit, soaking his fingers in your pre-cum. "mmm so wet" he quietly murmured into your neck. "Lando please" you moaned out, desperate to have his fingers shoved deep inside you. "what do you want princess, use your words." he encouraged you, continuing to rub your pussy painfully slowly.

"I want you to finger fuck me" you said, adding a "please". That wasn't enough for him though. "beg for it" he said looking straight into your eyes. You were so desperate for at least just a little more friction in your sensitive areas, words and pleads just spilled out of you. When you were practically on your knees begging, Lando was finally satisfied.

He stopped rubbing your clit for just a minute to quickly taste you on his fingertips, humming in satisfaction. A finger quickly found it’s way into your pussy, and he was quick to add another one. They slid in with ease since you were so wet you were practically dripping on the floor from the buildup of desperation throughout the whole day.

You were clenching around his fingers, chasing release. It didn’t take long for you to reach your high and spill cum all over his soft fingers. Moaning his name you grabbed his shoulders for support, nearly collapsing. While you were trying to catch your breath he shoved a finger into your mouth expecting you to suck it clean, and you obviously obeyed.

After you regained balance he walked you out of the bar. Your cheeks were extremely red walking through the crowd of people that probably saw everything, not to mention you were in a really short dress without panties underneath.

You can probably imagine how the rest of your night went after you came home.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hey, Can I make a request with a s/o teaching Shenhe, Eula, Yelan, and Arlecchino how to play video games?

(Genshin Impact) Shenhe, Eula, Yelan, Arlecchino, Furina, and Clorinde's S/O teaching them how to play video games

Game: Animal Crossing

Shenhe has tried games like Genius Invocation TCG, but that one frustrates her more than anything.

S/O, then decided to show her a game that she for sure would enjoy: Animal Crossing!

It didn't require anything other than just a will to relax. Plus, it was just a cute way to do something together!

(Shenhe) "...Your character looks cute."

Shenhe is enraptured by the charming little animals, being fondly reminded of Cloud Retainer in a strange way.

She plays it a little bit in what free time she gets, but really enjoys it in S/O's presence. Though there is one thing that annoys her about the game.

(Shenhe) "This is the fourty-seventh time I have gotten the 'Sea Bass' today. Am I doing something wrong when I am fishing, S/O?"

Her ingame avatar has long white hair and wearing something far more cutesy and casual than her usual attire.

Part of her wondered if S/O could get her these kinds of clothes from a store so she could wear it in real life.

A/N: I've gotten more Sea bass from ocean fishing in this franchise than I've eaten bread in my life.

Game: Monster Hunter

Eula decided to indulge S/O in trying to teach her how to play a game. After all, it was better than doing nothing.

It takes her a second to get used to the controls, but she quickly learns how to attack and dodge.

Only when the game truly begins did she realize what S/O had picked out.

(Eula) "Are you trying to tell me you'd like to go hunting for beasts with me, S/O?"

Teasing aside, Eula is a quick learner and becomes very skilled at hunting the many monsters of the game, getting weirdly competitive about it. Despite the fact there was no player versus player element at all in it.

(Eula) "HAH! I finally made the best Master Rank armor in the game! Everything we fight should be child's play!"

She also loves the cat companions that are in the game and spends a great deal of time dressing them up in cute/hilarious outfits.

Though she will enact vengeance if anyone calls her out on that.

A/N: Man I can't wait for Wilds.

Game: Metal Gear Solid

Yelan usually rolls dice to see what her day off becomes.

And this time, it was to have S/O show her these "Video Games".

Yelan settled for some "Tactical Espionage Action" game, the irony not being lost on her at all.

She learns the controls and plays it extremely casually, being more drawn in by the absurd story and characters.

Yelan is usually laughing at the action, but still enjoying herself.

(Yelan) "Geez, is this how your world views agents, S/O? It's not nearly as cool as this game's making it out to be."

Part of her wants to try hiding in a box to see if anyone would notice, but she'd also like to still be alive and not caught.

But the temptation is always there, everytime the dice decides for her to play this game again and again...

(Yelan) "Hm...the explosions in this game are a little much, but I guess it's also not entirely inaccurate...Sometimes, anyway."

A/N: I GIVE MY LIIIIIIIFE, NOT FOR HONOR, BUT FOR YOUUUUUU

Game: Mario Kart

Arlecchino usually passes on any offer to play a game, not because she didn't want to, but because she likes to observe.

(Arlecchino) "Let the children play first, S/O. I will join soon after."

What she usually witnesses for Mario Kart is a bloodbath.

This game brings out something in her kids that she hasn't seen before.

Even Freminent and Lynette, some of her more reserved kids, turn to something feral when playing against the others.

She's equally entertained and kind of concerned, like maybe this game wasn't healthy, but it did bring everyone closer and give the kids something fun to do.

Arlecchino decides to jump in at many kids' requests, and admittedly isn't that great at it.

But she has more satisfaction in watching the kids have fun.

That being said, there is some sadistic pleasure she has throwing the blue shell and watching whoever's in front take the brunt of it.

(Arlecchino) "Fascinating what these video games can do to children. Do you have more they can all try?"

A/N: Coconut mall is the best map, change my mind.

Game: Subnautica

Furina is at first excited to try something new.

(Furina) "Oh, a game about the beauty of the ocean? I shall beat it no problem!"

But she didn't realize that unlike Fontaine's waters, (Which to be fair, held its own terrors), this was an alien planet's ocean.

She's jumping at every little thing, screaming as she's desperately swimming away from the tiniest fish or anything that even makes a weird noise.

(Furina) "W-WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?! I'M GOING BACK TO THE LIFEPOD!"

That's not even to mention the Leviathans.

The first time she saw a Reaper, she immediately dropped the controller and buried her face into S/O's arms in terror, yelling out something sounding like a curse and crying.

Furina doesn't like video games anymore.

It takes something like Endless Ocean to calm her down about the waters again, thinking that every video game ocean has a Leviathan now.

A/N: For me, that game is horror until I get the Prawn Suit, then it becomes Pacific Rim as I hunt down every Reaper near the Aurora.

Game: Baldur's Gate 3

Clorinde was intrigued by video games, but honestly wasn't too keen on the idea of trying it. It didn't seem up her alley.

Until S/O showed her a game like Tabletop Troupe, but this time without the fears of annihilating some poor Game Master's campaign.

(Clorinde) "...Do you mind if I give this game a try, S/O?"

Her expression doesn't really change as she's playing, but that's because Clorinde is really immersed in the world.

It's just a lot of fun to truly let loose and interact with the world and NPC's, no fear of dealing with any player trying to murder-hobo their way.

SHE could be the Murder-Hobo, finally. Not that she would.

She enjoys playing it in her off time, but nothing beats living players and rolling the dice herself however.

This game did give her a few ideas for some new campaigns however.

(Clorinde) "I'd be interested in seeing you play with me, S/O. What choices would you make? And by the way, in true Tabletop Troupe fashion, we're not save-scumming. Once you roll the D20, our fate is sealed."

A/N: OS TAV RO VA VIVOLKAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

[married-to-google-translater]

Hello hello! Can i ask the the octavinelle gang + riddle watching their s/o wearing their dorm uniform while saying imitating their unique magic and how they act? Thanks!!

doing this now for Floyd and Riddle

Floyd Leech

You woke up really early one morning.

Floyd was sleeping on your right and cuddling with you.

Yesterday had been one of those nights when Floyd had wanted to spend time with you.

Refusing this is not an option.

Your boyfriend has never been good at understanding the meaning of the word "no".

However, your pastime stretched late into the night.

That's why you decided it would be easier for you to stay the night.

Better not yawn lol.

However, it was morning and you were really bored.

You tried to break away from Floyd's grip and go do something.

In the middle of trying get yourself out, you got a funny idea.

Floyd woke up without you in his arms.

This automatically put him in a bit of a bad mood.

However, when he saw you dressed in his clothes and imitating him, Floyd couldn't help but smile.

Floyd's clothes were really too big for you.

Eeeeel is very taaaaaaal

oooh Floyd would look for his phone quickly.

There will be a LOT of cast photos taken of you.

Maybe one day Floyd would surprise you in the same way.

"Eeeeeeeh Shrimpy is sooo cutey~ Nooooh, I will never delete these pictures~~~"

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was in a hurry with his paperwork today. This meant you had a boring day.

Of course you respected Azul's work ethic...

However, it would have been fun if he hung out with you.

This is why you ended up browsing Magigram videos in Mostro Lounge V.I.P room.

Azul had given you free access to the V.I.P room after your relationship began.

When you browsed magigram videos you saw an interesting trend.

The "imitate your partner" challenge seemed to be really popular.

This gave you an interesting idea.

When Azul got the job done he immediately headed to find you.

However, Azul didn't expect to see you wearing his clothes.

Oooh how you would make him blush.

Azul thinks this would be amusing and cute because you do it.

He loves you a lot.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part one) | neil lewis x reader

title comes from the song you already know by bombay bicycle club

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. will you ever find the courage to tell him the truth?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | alcohol consumption, 'kid' as a petname, reader being kind of a femcel, jonathan being kind of mvp??

Neil had asked you to make sure the Thriller section was alphabetized; sometimes you thought he was just giving you tasks to look busy, but then again, you could probably use it since the employees of Gumshoe Video never looked very busy.  You spent most of the day on the couches, watching whatever old bizarre gem Neil put on— sometimes you thought he only had employees other than himself so that he could pay people to sit here and watch this stuff with him.  

But, the point is, you were sorting tapes.  Because everyone needs their VHS thriller movies to be in perfect alphabetical order.

There actually was a customer in the store, for once, so it was better not to be on the couch anyhow.  You hadn’t really noticed him when he came in, but as he wandered around the shelves, he seemed to drift towards you.  

You tried to ignore him when he stopped right beside you— and kneeling to look at the lowest shelf, he towered over you— but when you stood up he got your attention.  

"Need any help, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning in a little too close.  "I'm kind of a movie buff."

He had a frat guy kind of look about him— polo, boat shoes, quaffed blonde hair.  He could be good-looking, you thought, if he didn’t dress like a discount Abercrombie model… and if he didn’t hit on random women at the video store.  "I actually work here," you corrected, barely looking up from your task.  This is why we need uniforms instead of just dressing up to promote specials…

"Oh, really?" he smirked.  "What made you wanna work in a place like this?"

"My best friend owns the place," you explained, "and I'm, you know… kind of a movie buff."

"Right," he said, not seeming convinced.  "You like Kubrick?"

You rolled your eyes so hard you almost choked: Wow, what a deep cut.  But you kept a straight-ish face when you looked at him.  "Yeah, he's pretty good.  Don't care for how he treats his actors, but he was certainly a visionary."

"What are your top five favorite Kubrick movies?"

You knew this guy was a tool, but you were still a bit shocked that he actually had the gall to quiz you.  "Excuse me?" you scoffed incredulously.

"Can you even name five?" he asked, looking horribly proud of himself, and you straightened up as you glared at him.

"You're heterosexual, right?" you asked him, getting a confused nod.  "Can you name five women you've made come?"

Neil watched the guy storm out, Lucien cringed a bit from behind the register— and Jonathan, not seeming as if he had been paying attention at all, kept laying across the couch and tossing a ball up in the air to catch and throw again.

“Okay, that’s gotta be the third this week,” Lucien groaned.  “What are you saying to these guys?”

“Nothing worse than what they’re saying to me,” you assured with a frustrated, sarcastic smile.

“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Neil began, “that guy totally deserved it— but maybe, you know… work on your demeanor with customers?”

“Wow,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, “do you think I should smile more, too?”

“Wha— no!” Neil denied.  

“Yes,” Lucien said at the same time, though he changed his answer with an awkward cough and mumble when you both shot him a look.  “No, no— you’re good— you smile too much, even…”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Neil promised.  “But I think half the guys that come here are just coming here to see you!  Nobody even rents movies anymore.”  He groaned a little, dropping his shoulders defeatedly.  “Can’t you… tell them you’ll go out with them if they rent something?”

“What?!” you squeaked. “No!”

“Sales would double,” Lucien nodded.

“No,” you said again.  “I’m not letting you pimp me out to sell tapes, Neil.”

“I just mean— maybe you don’t really go out with them,” he suggested.  “Just… allude to the fact that you’re only interested in guys who…”

He trailed off as he searched around the shelves for a bit, smiling when he snagged a copy of The Maltese Falcon.

“— in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” he grinned, “you know— for example.  Then they rent it to impress you and we make a few bucks.”

“I am only interested in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” you frowned, snatching the tape away and shoving it back on the shelf.  “But that’s not the point.”

“Maybe you have to be more straightforward, you know,” Jonathan butted in as he sat up, “guys are dumb.”

“Yeah!” Neil agreed a little too easily.

“Just say something about how a massive VHS collection turns you on,” Lucien suggested, and you glared at him.

“Jesus!” you protested, but Neil tried to soothe you a bit.

"C'mon, kid, can't you just… flirt a little?  Get our sales up?"

He'd started calling you kid since you two watched Casablanca together— which was especially stupid as you were both twelve at the time.  At first you complained because he shouldn't be calling you kid with you both being kids; then you complained because neither of you were kids; and then you gave up.  You still punched Lucien for trying to call you that once… you only barely let Neil get away with it anyways.

But you let Neil get away with a lot.  It was a side effect of being secretly, but massively, in love with him.

It had been an issue since middle school— that was when the two of you became such good friends.  Technically, you’d known each other since first grade (where you had shared your crayons, a true test of friendship at the time), and you’d sort of had a crush on him as early as elementary school (mainly because he was the only boy you could stand at the time), but it all kicked into high gear in seventh grade.  That was when you became inseparable, when you got in trouble together, when you stayed up all night watching movies, when you went through all of life’s ups and downs together: you even went to prom together, platonically of course.  

As for your feelings, you’d managed to hide them this long and still be his best friend, even when it sometimes felt like letting him stomp all over your heart without even trying.  Honestly, the only thing harder than being in love with Neil was trying not to be in love with Neil: you adored his sense of humor, his generosity, his sensitivity— and he’d been there for you through the things you couldn’t have imagined surviving alone.  That kinda stuff bonds you to somebody… and when that somebody has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, it’s hard not to fall in love.

“Maybe I would flirt if I knew how,” you offered.  “But I’m not exactly, you know, flirty.”

“How hard could it be?” Jonathan interjected.  “Just, you know—”

You stared in quiet disbelief as Jonathan attempted to push his chest together with his arms.  It wasn’t quite working, of course, and the rest of you watched on as he fumbled around trying to force some cleavage.  “You look like an idiot,” you finally informed him after letting him do it for a minute.

“But is he wrong?” Lucien wondered.

“So, what, you guys really think that if I just went up to customers and—” you pushed your breasts together with your arms, accentuating them significantly in your tank top.

“That would work,” all three men asserted in unison before you could even finish.

“I fucking hate you guys,” you grumbled under your breath as you walked to the back, deciding to take your break in Neil’s office until these guys got their act together.

You never stayed gone for long, though— as idiotic as they could be, your friends were certainly charming.  They won you back with a promise to let you pick what tape to put on, and the four of you ended up laying on the couches watching Roman Holiday.  

When the movie was almost over, you rested your head on Neil’s shoulder; you guys did stuff like that, it was normal for you, but it always made your heart skip anyways.

~

This time, you were all hanging out at Jonathan’s primary workplace: the club.  In fact, it was a much larger crowd than just you and the guys— plenty of your local friends and loyal supporters of Gumshoe Video, all sitting around a big table while someone’s mediocre cover band took the stage.

"So, uh, me and Denise broke up," Neil said suddenly, going back in for another swig of beer right after.

The others offered their mild shock and half-hearted condolences, but you knew it was going to happen— he'd told you before he did it.  You tried to tell him that paying off a waiter to spill water on her was a weird way to prove what he already knew, but you couldn't disagree with his conclusion.  She was definitely difficult, and shockingly judgemental for someone who managed to date a video store owner for this long.

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he promised, “I don’t think anybody’s too surprised, right?”

There was an awkward hesitation among the group as they wondered if they should lie, or just fess up now that he was obviously accurate.  You broke the silence to suggest someone go get another round of drinks for the table, and even though that was pretty much a one-man job, nearly everyone agreed and quickly shuffled off— leaving just you, Neil, and Lucien.

“I guess tonight’s your chance to meet somebody new, don’t you think?” Lucien suggested.  “Get over Denise, you know.”

“I think I’m already over Denise,” Neil decided.

“And if I told you that girl back there,” Lucien returned, pointing with the hand still holding his drink, “has been looking over here at you for the past ten minutes?”

You glanced where Lucien was pointing as well, seeing a girl in a denim mini skirt and massive hoop earrings settle her eyes on Neil before looking away quickly with a lip-gloss lacquered smile.

“I think I need some help getting over Denise,” Neil agreed suddenly, patting Lucien on the back before he left the table.  

You wanted to pout, but you were used to this— he was good-looking, he got a lot of attention from women in places like this… it usually didn’t work out for him, though.  Certainly not never, probably more often than most guys, but… definitely not every time.

You tried not to look over too much, you didn’t want to get caught spying or, even worse, looking a little jealous— but you noticed that every time you looked over at them, Neil was talking.  That was his problem, see: he never fucking shuts up.  Guys, girls, anybody who will listen— if you admit to not knowing about his favorite fifty-year-old spaghetti western or the most recent pre-Code horror comedy he watched, he’ll gladly blab to you about it for ages.  The first time you glanced at them, you saw her giving him doe eyes, laughing at something he said— and the last time, those eyes had glazed over and her laugh seemed more nervous and confused; you smirked to yourself.  He’s still Neil…

“So, um,” you struck up a conversation with Lucien, “what about you?  Anybody here catching your eye?”

“That’s actually the perfect descriptor of my type,” he replied.  “Anybody.”

You snorted.  “Then you should go, you know, talk to anybody?”

He shrugged and frowned a bit, and it was a simple movement but you understood completely.

The band started to play a new song, something upbeat and energetic, and you smiled.  “Wanna dance with me?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that—” Lucien began to protest, but a minute later you were dragging him up by the stage.  Neither of you were actually any good at dancing, mainly you were just kind of jumping and flailing around together, but it was fun and that was the point.

Eventually, more of your friends wandered in to join you; when the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered, the band bowing in gratitude.  You only stole one more look over at Neil and his conversation partner, watching her interrupt his rant with a hand on his shoulder: your throat felt a little dry.  You just hoped what she was saying was more like hey, my friends are leaving, I’ve gotta go and not hey, wanna come over to my place so you can keep explaining German expressionism to me?

Your heart dropped when he reached for her— what if he kissed her now?  What if he wrapped her up under his arm and they walked out together?  What if you had to spend the whole night thinking about him having sex with her?

“Hey, we should ask them if they know any Strokes songs!” Lucien suggested, tugging on your arm to get your attention, but your mind was elsewhere.

“Uh huh, yeah,” you mumbled blankly, and he frowned at you.

“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to look for what you were seeing; but Neil wasn’t reaching for her, he was lifting his hand to wave goodbye as she left.  You beamed, even though you did feel a little bad when you saw Neil’s shoulders sink— it’s not that you wanted him to be alone forever, you were just relieved that you might have a few more moments to breathe before he got with somebody again.

“Nothing, sorry,” you answered Lucien, giving him your attention again.  “What’d you say?”

“We should ask the band if they—”

And immediately, Lucien lost your focus as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at Neil again— he was already looking at you, seeing you all on the dancefloor.  You waved for him to join you, and he smiled as he made his way towards the stage.  A new song began, even louder than the last, and you could blame that for not hearing Lucien’s question for the second time in a row.

Although he danced with you all for a few moments, Neil draped his arms over your and Lucien’s shoulders, nearly yelling to be heard over the music.

“You guys are coming over tonight for a movie, right?” he presumed.  “Jonathan’s working ‘til late so he’s out, but—”

“Sorry, I’ve gotta be up early,” Lucien explained, “my brother and his wife are visiting, remember?  We’re getting brunch and—”

“Whatever, party pooper,” Neil frowned, before suddenly smiling at you.  “Guess it’s just me and you, huh, kid?”

You tried not to sigh too noticeably through your smile.  “Yeah, me and you…” you agreed.

~

As you groggily blinked your eyes open, you found Neil staring at you, his face uncomfortably close to yours, with a big smile.  “Mornin’, kid,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

You yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin while he laughed.  “Jesus Christ, Neil!” you shouted, kicking off the blanket on you— and then you began to process where you were and why.  “God,” you groaned as you held your head in your hands, while Neil kept laughing at you, “did I fall asleep on the couch again?”

It was sort of a rhetorical question— obviously you had, it would be much stranger if you woke up on the video store couch without having fallen asleep there.  “Yeah,” he said, standing up and sighing a bit, “but you didn’t miss that much of the movie.”

“What happened at the end?” you asked, stretching your legs and snatching the blanket off the floor to fold up; Neil must have put it on you after you dozed off.

“No, we can finish it later,” he decided, walking up to the register, and you groaned.

“Seriously?  Not even falling asleep gets me out of finishing The Man Who Laughs?”

He smiled a little as he started prepping the store for open.  “Nope,” he said proudly, popping his lips on the p sound.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” you assured, getting up and trying to ignore the soreness in your back from sleeping on a ratty old sofa all night— you remembered helping Neil carry this thing from where he found it on the side of the road.  Considering you knew where it came from, it was a wonder you ever sat on it, let alone slept on it… but this happened relatively often.  Sometimes it almost felt like you slept easier here or at Neil’s apartment than your own. 

You stood up and stretched your arms, sparing a glance over at him.

“Can I run home and change?” you asked, and he frowned.  

“We open in ten minutes,” he noticed, “you won’t be back in time.”

“Yes, and who will serve the clamoring crowds that await our open outside?” you rolled your eyes, gesturing out the storefront to the abandoned sidewalk.  “You can handle it on your own.”

“Just go to my place,” he shrugged, “it’s closer.  And I think you left some jeans there anyway.”

Right— you’d borrowed a pair of his sweats to get comfy for a movie night, and forgot to take the jeans back when you left.  You yourself had one of Neil’s short-sleeve button-ups at your place, when you’d both changed there for a costume party, but you let him believe it was just lost… it was too late to tell him now that you had it, ‘cause then he might ask why you kept it so long and then he might, somehow, deduce that you had been cuddling it at night from time to time…

“Right, okay,” you nodded, “but I still need a shirt.”

“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, like it was no big deal at all and didn’t make your heart skip.

For a second you wondered if you should protest— if he was still dating Denise, you probably would’ve said something.  But you decided not to say anything, in case he changed his mind; you nearly bolted out of the store and down the two blocks to his apartment.

Your jeans were on the dresser, draped haphazardly in their same just-peeled-off shape you must have left them in last week.  You grumbled to yourself a little about how he could’ve folded them for you so they wouldn’t be wrinkled… but then again, all his jeans were wrinkled, so he clearly didn’t know any better.

And now the fun part: picking a shirt.  You smiled to yourself as you opened the drawer, perusing through t-shirts with old movie posters and semi-witty slogans… cute, sure, but those were pretty similar to what you already wore.  

But the button-downs?  Those were quintessential Neil, and you'd be wasting an opportunity if you didn't put one of those on.

You felt a little giddy as you opened the next drawer down and found them all folded.  The first one you saw had light blue and white stripes, so you snatched it up and slipped it on.

The fit was definitely off, but you let yourself indulge in a fantasy for a moment: waking up here, in Neil's bed… in Neil's arms.  You'd slip on his shirt while you went to find some breakfast, and he'd hum something about how pretty you look in his clothes, and you'd end up tangled in the sheets again not too much later.  

Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the last button, leaving the two at the top undone so you didn't look too formal, and headed back to the store for opening.

Neil stared at you for a second when you walked in— at the shirt, specifically.  You waited for him to say something, but he didn't.  "What, should I not wear this one?" you asked, looking down at it as well, and he shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine— sorry," he mumbled, "just start sorting out last night's returns, please."

You definitely got a much stronger reaction from Jonathan, as soon as he walked in the door.

(Why was he here when he wasn't even working today?  Who knows— he was just always here somehow.)

“Hey!  You look even more like a lesbian than usual,” Jonathan greeted with a peppy fake-smile as he approached you, and you smirked a bit.

“Don’t blame me, it’s his shirt,” you nodded towards Neil.

“See, I told you you dress like a— wait,” Jonathan stopped mid-insult, looking back at you, then at Neil again, then at you; he pointed his fingers at each of you, crossing them back and forth.  “Did… you two…?”

You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to explain what he meant.

“Did you guys hook up?!” Jonathan accused, wide-eyed.

You felt your face getting warm, and you stammered out your denial; Neil started waving his hands in disagreement as well, but Jonathan was already on a roll.

“Oh my god!” he yelped.  “The one time I miss movie night here and it gets freaky!  Should’ve known better than to leave you two lovebirds alone—”

“Jonathan, we didn’t—” you choked.

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Neil butted in.  “She just borrowed my shirt!  ‘Cause she— because—”

“I mean, we’ve kinda all been waiting for this to happen— but I never really thought it would,” Jonathan steamrolled along.  “Well, yeah, I guess I thought it would, I just—”

“Wait wait wait, what?” Neil shook his head, stepping up closer to the two of you.  “What does that mean?”

Finally, he seemed to get Jonathan’s attention, who began to nervously backtrack as both of you stared at him.  “W-well, I just mean—” he started.

“And who’s ‘we all’?” Neil noticed.  “This isn’t just you, thinking this?”

“I… I mean,” Jonathan scoffed, “you know— just, just some people… we thought that maybe… that since you two are so close, that you might—”

“Wow,” Neil chuckled, crossing his arms in disappointment.  “You know, that’s so reductive.  For a bunch of progressive, free-thinking hipsters—” he waved his hands as he said it in a mocking way— “you’re really just, like… like… you know, not!  ‘Cause apparently men and women can’t really be friends?”

“No, come on, not like that,” Jonathan denied, “of course we can—”

“I mean, you’re her friend, you’re both single,” Neil noticed, gesturing between the two of you, “why don’t you two, just, you know… hook up!”

You cringed a little as Jonathan tugged at his collar nervously.  “Well, I—”

“Come on, why not?” Neil went on, smiling at the suggestion even though he was clearly unamused.  “I mean, she’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s got a vagina— why don’t you hit on her?”

“Hey, come on, Neil,” Jonathan sighed, “I’m well aware she’s got a vagina—”

“So what’s the problem?” Neil insisted.  “Clearly you can’t just be friends with someone with a vagina—”

“I would really prefer if we didn’t talk about my vagina anymore,” you mumbled nervously.

“— how come you never hit on her, Jonny?” Neil pressed, backing him into a corner metaphorically— but also somewhat literally, he was leaning in and Jonathan was pressing his back more and more against the shelves.

“You really want me to answer that?” Jonathan replied, almost threatening.  That made you furrow your brow a bit.  It seemed like a rhetorical question, Neil trying to prove a point, but you didn’t expect Jonathan to have a literal answer.

“Yeah, sure,” Neil decided, “enlighten us.”

Neil glanced at you, like you were just as gung-ho about this interrogation, but you were feeling a little sick.  You understood the spirit of Neil’s argument— and technically, you agreed with him— but it still stung to see him so incensed at the suggestion of you two together.  You were trying not to take it personally, it wasn’t like he was disgusted by you or anything… he even said just now that you were pretty, and he’d told you that before, but… it still bothered you a little, for reasons you couldn’t quite describe and that you were sure were illogical.

“I never hit on her,” Jonathan answered, lowering his voice, “because I… I figured it would piss you off.”

That seemed to surprise you both, maybe for different reasons; you bit your lip to suppress a smile.  Did Jonathan really think Neil was that protective over you?  “Why would it piss me off?” Neil wondered, but he sounded a little defensive— defensive in a caught-red-handed sort of way.

“I… I don’t know,” Jonathan shrugged.  “That’s just the vibe I got, okay?  That she’s sorta… off-limits.”

Neil hesitated.  “Well… she’s not,” he decided.  “You’re grown-ups.  Whatever you wanna do is none of my business— as long as you’re not being, you know, creepy or an asshole.”

“Of course,” Jonathan agreed, most of the tension settling as Neil backed up a step.

“Okay, well, ask her out then,” Neil instructed firmly.

“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Jonathan sputtered.

“Neil, Jesus!” you complained simultaneously, and he seemed to relent, shrugging as he walked back to the register.

“Sorry, sorry,” he dismissed, “just letting you know it’s… fine with me!”

You rolled your eyes a bit and looked back at Jonathan.  “Sorry,” you offered him quietly, “he’s… I don’t know.  He gets weird about that.”

“Oh really?” Jonathan scoffed sarcastically.  “Didn’t notice.”

“The real reason you shouldn’t be hitting on me is because we’re coworkers, by the way,” you reminded him.

“Hey, I only work here part-time,” Jonathan noticed, “so I think that means it’s cool as long as we only go out part-time.”

You snorted, but he seemed to get nervous.

“You know I’m kidding, right?” he added quickly, and you nodded with a laugh.

~

"You know, I was thinking— we don't have many events at the store these days,” Neil mumbled around a bite of pretzel, watching you play your turn at Skee Ball.  Normally he would put coins in the machine beside yours and try to beat your score, but the other machine was out of order and you decided to take a relay race approach.  “What if we did, like, I don’t know… maybe a double feature for a couple bucks?”

“Neil, we show movies every night,” you sighed, “and we invite everybody, and ninety-nine percent of the time it’s just some combination of me, you, Jonathan, and Lucien.”

“Yeah, but this time we could do movies that more people like— a little easier to watch,” he suggested, “something that would get new people in the store.”

“New people don’t wanna sit on a musty old couch with strangers,” you reminded him, and he nodded as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.

“You’re right,” he agreed, holding the pretzel out towards you.  “Wanna bite?”

You were trying to get through your skee balls pretty quick, so you just leaned your head over and chomped down on the end of one of the twists while he held it for you.  You hummed in appreciation— it was pretty good, fresher than the last one you guys got here.

Visits to the arcade used to be your thing, back in high school (aside from watching movies, but that was a given).  Then you slowed down with the trips, feeling a little old and out of place surrounded by kids— but the problem was, this place wasn’t filled with kids anymore.  It hadn’t changed much at all since you were both in high school, and that was exactly the issue: it was old, run-down, a bit grimey… kids weren’t coming to arcades anymore anyways, they were all on the Internet apparently.  So, while you and Neil sort of appreciated having the place to yourself, it also broke your heart knowing your old haunt couldn’t hold itself together forever… you two visited not just to recapture some old childhood joys, but to try to do your part to keep the business afloat.  

You pretended to like being here— because you really did want to support the place, and Neil wanted to keep coming back— but it actually made you pretty fucking sad.  Surrounded by all the neon, the noisy pinball machines, the Dig Dug machine that had a fifty-fifty chance of stealing your quarters, the photobooth (you still had some strips from that thing pinned to your wall, some so old that they’d faded from the sunlight that came in your window each day); it all felt sort of eerie now.  You would’ve never known all those years ago how little this place would change, even though you never expected it to— you would’ve never known how little anything would change.  Neil was still by your side, but still so far away… if you could talk to that fourteen-year-old girl now, you would warn her that no amount of time spent running around this place and playing Street Fighter was going to make Neil love her, or you.

But here you were anyways.  “Woo!” you cheered when your final score came through: 50,765.  “Beat that!”

Neil set the pretzel down on the bar-height table (on a pile of napkins, don’t worry, neither of you trusted those tables that much) and brushed the salt off his hands with a scoff.  “Oh please, I can beat that with my eyes closed,” he assured as you crossed your arms.

As he put his quarters in and stepped up to the game, you smiled wide.  “Alright, if you say so.”

You came up behind him and covered his eyes with your hands, making him jump and then laugh.  “What are you doing?”

“Just keeping you honest,” you giggled, holding on tight even when he tried to move his head around so that he could see.  

He did his best, usually struggling to even find where the balls were coming down more than rolling them decently— but after the first three went in the gutter without even scoring, you knew he didn’t stand a chance.  He did score a few times, but when the buzzer went off and he lifted your hands from his eyes, he laughed at the pitiful 1,150 on the board.

“Ohh, that’s too bad,” you winced, “guess you’re just full of it.”

Still holding your hands away from his face, he spun around and twirled under your arms like you were dancing for a moment; it ended with him face-to-face with you, swinging your hands back and forth a bit to force you to twist with him slightly.  “Wanna play Street Fighter next?” he suggested quickly.  “I know I can beat you at that.”

The giddy joy of the moment dropped and shattered; if you thought about it too much, you probably could’ve cried right then.  As pathetic, yet oddly aesthetically pleasing, as it would be to cry in an arcade, you swallowed down the emotion and smiled back at him.  “Yeah, okay,” you agreed.

~

You’d been a little antsy all day— Neil seemed to notice, asking a couple times if you were okay, but you just nodded and shrugged it off.  He had a sense for when you were lying; but that’s the thing, you weren’t lying, really.  You just weren’t sure what to say.  You weren’t sure if you should say anything.  And yet, you felt a little guilty not telling him everything that was going on with you— not just guilty, but plain weird.  Because you usually did tell him everything— except, you know, the thing— but you didn’t know if you should talk about this.  Not that you couldn’t— but should you?

So you were sort of gnawing on your lip most of the day, keeping yourself busy with tallying late fees behind the desk, trying to keep conversation light and meaningless: thankfully, in that regard, Jonathan and Lucien made it pretty easy.

“Okay: fuck, marry, kill,” Jonathan began, “Dracula, the Mummy, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

“Dude, I can’t answer that,” Lucien refused.

“Okay, then Neil, what would you do?” Jonathan changed his target.

“Um, well,” Neil pondered, “I think I’d have to kill Dracula— spare the world from that evil, you know— and I guess I’d marry the Mummy—”

“Freud would like to have a word,” Lucien butted in.

“And I’d fuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he concluded, “out of morbid curiosity.”

You snorted, but didn’t look up from your clipboard.  “You come up with one that Lucien will do,” Jonathan challenged Neil.

“Alright, uhh, let’s see…” Neil stalled as he thought, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin dramatically.  “Fuck, marry, kill: Sarah Connor, Ripley, and Trinity from Matrix.”

“Okay, see, that’s a real challenge,” Lucien affirmed.  “If I marry Trinity, do I have to live in the post-apocalyptic wasteland or can she live here?”

“You’d have to live in the Matrix,” Jonathan announced, like it was obvious.

“Hm,” Lucien pondered, “do I know it’s a false reality?  Does she know?”

“She knows, you don’t,” Neil decided.

“Is she gonna tell me?  What if she has another guy on the side in the real world?”

“Okay, you’re overthinking this,” Jonathan groaned.

“And is this the Sarah Connor that’s already had John?  ‘Cause if not, I can’t kill her, or the human revolution stands no chance— but if she has him, I can’t marry her, ‘cause I’m not ready to be a stepfather—”

“You’re useless,” Jonathan informed him flatly.

“Well, it’s easy then,” you offered, still tallying fees on the printed table.  “You fuck Connor, marry Ripley and kill Trinity.”

“Yeah, I guess that works,” Lucien shrugged.

“If you’re so good at this game, you should play,” Jonathan decided.  You looked up from your work for once, finding Lucien looking excited at the idea and Neil looking a little nervous but intrigued.

“I’ve got one for you,” Lucien decided, looking concerningly smug.  “Fuck, marry, kill: the three of us.”

Jonathan let out a giddy ‘ooh’ and Neil raised his eyebrows.  “Oh— I don’t know— that’s too weird,” you shook your head, “it’s different, you’re real—”

“Wait, wait,” Neil interrupted, “now I wanna know.”

You froze for a second, wondering if you should double down on not participating, or if you should tell him the first thing that popped in your head: am I allowed to do all three to you?

Instead, you set the clipboard down and crossed your legs, and the men seemed to straighten up as they prepared for your answer.  “Alright,” you said, looking at them for a lingering moment before sighing.  “I think I’d fuck Jonathan, and then kill myself.”

“Yes,” Jonathan hissed, shaking his fist triumphantly.

“Dude, really?” Lucien snapped at him.  “That didn’t sound like a compliment to me.”

“Don’t care, I stopped listening after ‘fuck Jonathan’,” he replied.  “Alright, Neil, you’re gonna have to make good on that ‘she’s not off-limits’ promise you made to me—”

But Neil wasn’t listening to Jonathan, he was still looking at you.  “Wait— you wouldn’t marry me?” Neil interrupted, putting a hand on the desk and leaning in a bit closer— he looked half-amused and half-offended, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Um…” you started to wonder how to defend yourself from that.  What did he expect you to say?  Yes, I’d marry you, I’ve actually been planning our wedding since junior year.

“Hold on,” Lucien stopped you, “if she fucks you and marries you, that means I’m getting killed!”

“Yeah, so?” Jonathan smirked.

“What, you don’t think I’m marriage material?” Neil laughed… but he didn’t seem like he was really joking, per se.  He didn’t seem serious either, of course, but you decided to take his question seriously since he’d dared to ask it twice.

“Well,” you mumbled, “no.  I don’t.”

Then he seemed a bit more serious, adjusting his posture a bit.  “Why not?”

“I mean… you’re my best friend,” you reminded him, “but… you’re not reliable.”

He nodded, pursing his lips together.

“You’re not ready for marriage,” you continued.  “I mean, I think you’re just as sure of that as I am.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And honestly?  You’re a great friend and all, but… if you were my husband, I don’t think I could really… you know, trust you…”

The silence seemed a little heavy— all the men were sort of frozen for a second, you wondered if you should wave your arm around to make sure time hadn’t stopped.  But they did move, Neil first in fact, as he stopped leaning on the counter and nodded a little.

“I’m just surprised that you didn’t fuck Dracula,” Jonathan said to Neil in an attempt to cut the tension, “considering your massive man-crush on Bela Lugosi.”

“Hey, that reminds me, tonight’s movie is Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla,” Neil announced, apparently shaking off whatever odd energy he’d picked up just before, “you in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan nodded, “should I bring drinks?”

“Uhh, yeah, why not?” Neil agreed. 

“Is a six-pack enough?”

"Uh, maybe…” Neil considered, turning over his shoulder to look at you.  “Kid, how many beers are you gonna want?”

You swallowed nervously.  “Um, I… well, I’m not coming.  I’ve got a date, actually.”

Of course it was just assumed that you would be there; you felt a little guilty admitting you wouldn’t, to the point that you almost considered just skipping said date and staying to avoid the awkwardness.

“Hey, great!” Jonathan said proudly, throwing his arms out wide.

“A date, huh?” Neil noticed, looking happily surprised.  “Sorry, I— I didn’t know— you didn’t say anything—”

“No, it’s cool,” you shook your head, “it’s kind of a last minute thing… you know how they’re showing Rope at the Palace tonight?  I met this, um, this guy the other day and we got to talking, and I asked him if he’d wanna come with me.”

“Rope, wow, that’s a great first date movie,” Neil nodded approvingly, “that sounds perfect.”

“Yeah— he hasn’t seen it, actually,” you admitted, smiling nervously, “so I guess how much he likes it will kinda be a good judge of if he’s worth going out again, right?”

Jonathan nodded approvingly, but Neil seemed skeptical.  "Well, the showing isn't until nine— you can at least hang out until the movie starts, right?"

"I've gotta get home and get changed!" you explained 

"You can't wear that to a date?" Lucien wondered.

"No!" you scoffed, looking down at your ripped jeans and Dracula t-shirt.  "Besides, I have this whole plan of what I'm gonna wear— remember when we did Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween?"

Neil was Bonnie and you were Clyde, in fact; he looked shockingly good in that blood-red lipstick, you tried to convince him to wear it again but he insisted it was a one-night-only situation.  

"I figure if I wear my Clyde suit, I'll look kinda like James Stewart!"

"You're doing drag on a first date?" Lucien pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, lighten up, I'm just dressing up for the movie— I'll still, you know, try to look pretty," you assured.  "What, I don't look good in a suit?  'Cause I got a lot of compliments on Halloween—"

"No, hey, go for it," Jonathan decided, "it's festive!"

"I think it's cool," Neil agreed.  "Have fun, alright?  And if he creeps you out or something, call the store number and I'll come get you."

"I'm not really worried about—"

"You know? Just call the store when you get home," Neil decided, "so I'll know you didn't get murdered."

"Dude, chill," you groaned.  "We're going to the movies, not, I don't know… hiking off-trail in the middle of the night."

You never agreed to call, but you did him one better: you ended up coming back to the video store afterwards, a bit over two hours later.  Of course, the guys were still on the couch— apparently the movie was over but they were watching anime (undoubtedly something Jonathan had brought as a palate cleanser after the movie).

They all looked over at you when you came in the front door and the little bell rang; they seemed excited to see you, and presumably to interrogate you about the date.  You sighed, knowing you couldn't have expected anything else, but you'd come here hoping they'd let you watch something with them so you could stop thinking about the date.

“How’d it go, hot stuff?” Jonathan purred, and you rolled your eyes as Lucien wolf-whistled.

“Oh yeah, it was awesome, best first date ever— I’m at his place having sex with him right now,” you frowned as you tossed your purse down onto the couch, and Lucien chuckled while Neil looked a little defeated.  

“Not that great, huh?” Neil noticed.

“Was he a creep?” Jonathan assumed.

“Did he think the movie was bad?” Lucien pressed.

“No, no, he was great,” you sighed, “he loved the movie.  We talked about it for a bit afterwards and he seemed to really understand it.”

“Okay!  That’s good, right?” Jonathan said optimistically.

“Yeah— so good that I asked him when we could do this again,” you recalled, “and he said that he didn’t wanna lead me on and he wasn’t interested in seeing me.”

“What?!” Jonathan yelped, while Neil winced a little.

“He said I was really cool and funny and easy to talk to,” you explained, “but that he didn’t feel any chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” Lucien repeated, confused.

“He means he’s not attracted to me,” you clarified.

“What?” Jonathan scoffed again.  “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, but you did know.  “I think I’m just, like, friend material.  I’m just ‘one of the guys’, you know?  Not somebody you actually wanna be with.”

“But isn’t that what every guy wants?  To date somebody who’s just ‘one of the guys’?” Lucien noticed, and then paused when everyone gave him an inquisitive look. “That sounded way less gay in my head.  You get what I mean, right?”

“As much as I would love to never let you live that down,” Jonathan smirked, “you’re not wrong— like, a chick who can hang.  That’s the best.”

“Well, here I am!  Hanging!” you snapped.  “Where’s my harem of suitors just desperate to date one of the guys?!”

“I mean, you are wearing a suit…” Neil noticed, getting a little defensive when you groaned and dropped your head back.  “No, no, you look cool!  I mean, you look really great.  I’m not sure what he wasn’t seeing.”

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend!" Jonathan suggested.  "And he was gonna cheat but he chickened out."

"Maybe he's intimidated by strong women," Lucien added, sounding more like he was quoting a Cosmo than actually thinking that.

"Respectfully, guys aren't that complicated," you assured.  "If he wanted me, he would.  He doesn't.  It's not that deep."

Neil looked away when you said that.

"Well, come take a seat on the losers couch," Jonathan offered, but Neil sitting next to him frowned.

"You think I'm a loser?" Neil protested.

"No, I was talking about that couch," Jonathan said as he pointed to the other one which Lucien was on.

"I'm not even offended," Lucien decided, patting the spot next to him.  "I'd rather be a loser with you than a winner with anybody else."

You smiled and plopped down next to him, pulling your legs up on the old sofa and finding the best angle to see the TV from.  "Okay, catch me up," you requested, bracing for the barrage of borderline nonsensical exposition about whatever obscure anime Jonathan was forcing on the group this time.

~

Since the store closed at eight on Tuesdays, you and Neil decided to go out for a late dinner after locking up— the nearest place you usually walked to was a little hole-in-the-wall dishing out Thai fusion, and even though there were open tables inside, you took your paper boxes outside to eat together on a bench.

You each sat up on it with your legs crossed, facing each other, while he poked at his fried rice with his fork and you stirred your noodles with the chopsticks.

“The Palace is still doing their Hitchcock screenings on Sundays,” you recalled, “I think the next one is Rear Window.  We could make Lucien man the store and go see it together?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he smiled.  “But we gotta sneak in the candy, that place is getting so overpriced…”

“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed.  “When I went on my date there I had Sour Patch Kids in my bag, but I was kinda craving Reese’s by the time the movie started..."

"That guy sounded like an ass, by the way," Neil announced with a frown.

"Oh, no, it's fine," you dismissed.  "He was really nice, even when he blew me off, and I… I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to go anywhere, anyways.”

“Really?” Neil scoffed.  “Then why’d you ask him out?”

Just in case.  “I… I guess I’m trying to put myself out there more?”

“Huh?  You’re trying to put out more?” Neil joked.

You rolled your eyes and unfolded your legs to kick him playfully.  “You know what I mean,” you groaned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, “and I support it.  It’s sort of insane that you’re still single.”

“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” you rolled your eyes before shoving a thick swirl of spicy-sweet noodles in your mouth.

“No!  I mean, like, I can’t believe you’re single,” he clarified, and you smiled somewhat awkwardly while chewing your mouthful.  “You’re smart and fun and cool and pretty—”

Thanks to the food in your mouth, you didn’t have to worry about coming up with a way to respond to that, so you just shrugged.

“Seriously!” he insisted.  “I mean, guys hit on you at the store— I wish somebody who actually deserved your attention would walk in that place.”

The guy I want is already there every day.  Swallowing, you finally got a chance to talk to him again.  “Thanks,” you sighed, “it’s fine, though.  I mean, I’ve been single this long— I think I’ll survive.”

“Keep waiting for the right one, okay?” he encouraged, and your heart swelled.

“I will,” you promised, sounding more wistful than you meant to.

After a brief lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and continued.  “Hey, um, while we’re on the topic of Sunday, about the whole fuck-marry-kill thing—”

“I’m sorry,” you offered right away, “I shouldn’t have answered that.  I wasn’t being serious, obviously.”

“No, I wanted to apologize,” he returned, “I shouldn’t have pressed you on your answer.  It was funny.  And it wasn’t like you could say you were gonna kill one of us.”

You snorted.  “Yeah, that one was probably the worst of the three.”

“But I shouldn’t have asked you about what you would’ve done to me,” he shook his head, “I was making it weird.  So, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.  “Did you really expect me to say I would marry you?”

“No,” he admitted, “I thought you’d say you’d fuck me, marry Lucien and kill Jonathan.”

“What?” you scoffed, though you were still smiling.  “Why?”

“Well, Lucien would definitely make the best husband of the three of us,” he explained, “and Jonathan was the only one who wouldn’t have gotten butthurt about you saying you’d kill him.  He probably would’ve just asked you to give him a nice send-off, y’know…”

You nodded in agreement, wondering if he was going to address the obviously missing third piece of all this… he sure was staring down into his empty fried rice container with intense focus…

“And, you know, as for me,” he began sort of thinly, “I, um… I guess I just figured, you know, you’re the most comfortable with me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “obviously, but maybe that would make it worse?  Like, at least with Jonathan, I know that if we ever did hook up or something, it probably wouldn’t mess up our friendship.  ‘Cause we’re friendly and all, but it’s not so serious.  But with you…”

“Uh huh, well, that’s why it’s good it’s just a game,” Neil finished for you, chucking his trash in the nearest can.  “Don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.  Least of all you and I being married.  Talk about a disaster.”

You choked on your throat.  “Yeah.  No kidding…”

“Well, anyways,” he sighed, standing up from the bench and stretching for a moment, “wanna come over and see if the game’s still on?”

“Oh, um, I’m just gonna go back to my place,” you decided, throwing away the last couple bites of your food on account of your suddenly-lost appetite.  “Kinda thinking I should get my sleep schedule in order.”

“That’s good,” he nodded, “I respect that.  Have a good night, then, kid.”

“Yeah, you too,” you breathed, waving as he turned and walked off into the night, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.  

You looked down at your lap, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes for a second.  Did he have to be so sweet just to cut you down like that?  Could he have even known how it would hurt you to say that?

It’s not even like he was wrong, but you were dying to ask him why he was so sure that you and him together would be so bad.  What was wrong with you that he still couldn’t see you that way?

Not interested in this repetitive thought cycle anymore, and being very familiar with where it leads, you got up and started to walk down the street.  You didn’t turn to go to your apartment, though; you kept going until you heard live music— scratchy, whiny guitars and throbbing bass drums— seeping out of the club.  You just needed to be somewhere familiar that wasn’t the video store or home; and, this place conveniently also had liquor.

You slipped inside— hit by a wave of sound as you entered— and took a seat at the bar, half-listening to the band that was playing, pretending to be focused at all on what was going on in the outside world rather than just spiraling into your own thoughts inside your head.

“Hey,” Jonathan nodded at you from the other side of the bar, and you nodded back.  He instantly started looking for Neil— of course he would— and you deflated a bit.  “You here alone?” he noticed.

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“Wow,” he smirked, “it’s like when Peter Pan’s shadow escaped.”

You should’ve probably been offended by that, but it wasn’t worth denying— and you were more interested in getting liquored up than justifying that you did, in fact, have a life outside of Neil.

And, actually, Peter Pan was a pretty good way to describe Neil, too.  Fear of commitment, leader of freaks and outcasts, daydreamer… all he needed was some green tights.  “What are you drinking tonight?” Jonathan finally asked.

“What pairs well with feeling completely unattractive and unlovable?” you sighed.

“Well, that would be my drink of choice: whiskey,” he smiled, setting a bottle down in front of you.  “I’ll do a shot with you.”

He poured you both a shot, and you timed it to shoot it back together; he, obviously, took it better than you, and you cringed from the acidic flavor.  "Jesus, people really drink this on purpose?" you grumbled.

"Yeah, give it a few minutes," he assured, "it's gonna numb all those stupid emotions."

"I don't have a few minutes," you sighed, "do you have anything more fast-acting?"

"Yeah— a second shot," he joked, but you nodded in agreement.  "Okay, shit, you're not messing around tonight."

"Nope," you agreed, watching him pour just one shot this time.  "You're not doing it with me?"

"I need to pace myself, I'm here 'til two," he explained.

He slid it to you and you contemplated it for a moment, before forcing yourself to get it down as quickly as possible to avoid the burn.  You still grimaced, but recovered quickly.

"Is it working yet?" he wondered.

"I guess," you answered half-heartedly.

“Well, you could always gush to the bartender about all your problems?” he offered, but you just shrugged it off.  “Come on, you wouldn’t be the first tonight.  And since I know you, I might actually be able to help.”

“I don’t think you can help with this one,” you assured.  “This problem has been going on longer than you’ve been around.”

“Oh?” he pressed.  “Let me guess… boy troubles?”

“Isn’t it always?” you scoffed, irritated that he saw through you that quickly— apparently your reputation of being horrible with men preceded you.

“But this is just one boy,” he presumed.  “One boy who… conspicuously isn’t here tonight…”

“Is it that obvious?” you wondered with a whine, dropping your head in your hand.

“Well, if you weren’t having any issues with him, you’d be with him,” Jonathan guessed— and it wasn’t bad logic.

“But, like, does everyone know?” you wondered.  “Does everyone but him know that I’m in love with him?  Oh god, Jonathan, you don’t think he knows, do you?”

“Wait— love?” he repeated, and you swallowed thickly as you realized the whiskey had already gotten you to say too much.  “You… you’re…”

“Okay, so I guess not everyone knows,” you mumbled.

“No, yeah, I think you managed to keep that under wraps,” he assured with a nod, eyes getting wider.  “Sheesh.  No, I had no clue.  Now it’s even weirder that you guys aren’t together.”

“Well, he doesn’t love me,” you explained flatly.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, god no— I mean, he tells me he loves me,” you corrected, “but he doesn’t mean— we just say that, you know, like at the end of phone calls or when one of us is sad.  It’s not, like… we never meant it that way.”

“Right, okay,” Jonathan nodded as he wiped a glass— the way bartenders do when they’re listening to people— but he didn’t seem to understand entirely.  “So, you’re not his type?”

“I don’t think I know what his type is,” you scoffed.  “I haven’t really noticed a pattern, have you?”

“You’d have to have a few more data points to really draw any connection between them,” Jonathan laughed.

“Yeah, fair,” you smiled, “he’s only had… I don’t know, maybe four girlfriends since I’ve known him?  One in high school, for a month— then Eva, they weren’t even really serious, just dating for a while.  And then, uh—”

“Tanisha,” he remembered.

“Right!  I liked her,” you hummed.

“What happened to her again?” he wondered.

“Got back with her ex,” you recalled.

“Wow, that blows,” Jonathan sighed.  

“She told me before she told him,” you admitted.  “She wanted me to tell him for her, actually, but I… I couldn’t do that to him.  But I came over right after, you know, and we ate ice cream from the tub and watched movies ‘til we fell asleep.”

Jonathan made a sort of face, one you couldn’t quite interpret, and you tilted your head as he seemed to mumble to himself.  

“What?” you wondered.

“Nothing, it’s just… he’s kind of an idiot,” Jonathan decided.  “I don’t think he gets how lucky he is.”

You wrinkled your brows together, laughing a bit.  “What do you mean?”

“Look, I’m not saying he’s, like, legally obligated to fall in love with you just because you guys get along so well,” he clarified, “even if that’s what Neil accused me of thinking— I really do think it’s fine for men and women to just be friends.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying… like, how do you have someone who cares about you that much, and you end up dating fucking Denise for almost a year?!”

“Well, nobody knows how he ended up with Denise,” you coughed.  “That was a fucking disaster.”

“I mean, not to be crass, but, uh,” he stumbled a little over his words, “I’m surprised that you coming over after that breakup didn’t turn into a rebound, at least.”

“After eating that much ice cream?” you laughed.  “That would’ve been awful.”

“But really, though,” he insisted.  “I have a hard time believing the thought didn’t even cross his mind…”

“I can’t really be sure that it didn’t,” you admitted, “I’m just saying, nothing happened.”

“I guess he’s just known you too long to go for it with you,” Jonathan shrugged.

“It’s not just that— you know Neil, he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie,” you rolled your eyes, “or at least he thinks he is.  He wants adventure, I guess— and he always talks about us doing spontaneous stuff but it never happens— and I’m just too familiar.  Too comfortable.”

“Yeah, he does kinda have something against stability,” Jonathan agreed, “do you think it’s a divorced parents thing?”

“I don’t know, I stopped analyzing that a long time ago,” you groaned, “and I told myself I would stop trying to be what I thought he wanted, but I think I keep doing it.”

“Well, I know you know him better than anybody,” Jonathan countered, “but I know guys, and that guy… there’s no way he thinks of you as just a friend.”

“Why do you think that?” 

“Because he was fucking lying when he said it wouldn’t piss him off if we hooked up,” he insisted.

“You really won’t let that go, will you?” you grinned.

“Did you see his face?  He couldn’t get the image out of his head!” Jonathan assured confidently.  “And then that whole ‘fuck marry kill’ thing— he started getting nervous, I think.”

“Nervous about what?”

“That something could really happen with us!”

“You really think he would care?” you frowned.

“I swear to— to Ash Williams,” he decided, “that if I walked into that fucking video store, and told him that you and I did whiskey shots and you came back to my place and we did the horizontal tango, he would beat me to death with the register.”

“You swear on Ash Williams?” you repeated with a smirk, knowing that meant more than swearing on any deity would mean.

“Him and his chainsaw hand,” Jonathan assured, putting a hand over his heart to add to the bit, and you giggled.

“Well, I don’t think Neil can pick up the register,” you decided.

“In that case, you let me know the next time you wanna get back at him for something,” he offered with a wink, and you smiled at him sympathetically.

“I know you’re trying to be nice,” you sighed, “but you don’t have to do that.”

“Hey, come on,” he frowned, “I know you’ve got this I’m insecure I’m a weirdo nobody notices me thing, but you can’t actually think it would be some kind of charity work for me to sleep with you—”

“No, I don’t mean that,” you sighed, “I know I could get laid if I wanted to—”

“But you don’t wanna get laid,” he finished for you, “you wanna be loved.”

You sighed again, even harder.  “Yeah,” you nodded.

“I know,” he agreed.  “And you know I love you, but—”

“But not like that,” you took your turn finishing his sentence.

His only reply was raising the bottle of whiskey with a sideways smile, a silent offer to pour another shot— for both of you this time.

“Yes, please,” you hummed, watching him fill the miniature glasses with a sigh.

part 2

[julymusings]

Jason Todd x South Asian!Reader HCs

requested | reader is fem, i tried to keep it non-specific so it applies to the whole region, not just india, hopefully i succeeded😬

i looooved writing this it was so much fun. drop an ask with anything else you want to see!!

batboys x south asian!reader masterlist

When you show him Bollywood movies, at first he’s like “Why are these so damn long?” But watches them anyway because you’re so excited to show him

He obviously sobs at K3G (because he has daddy AND big brother issues)

But his favorite is probably 3 Idiots or Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (he just seems like the type to looove an underdog story am I right)

Since Jason likes cooking, he’s learning how to make all your favorite foods. He’s eaten a lot of Indian food before (duh, it’s New Jersey), so he’s familiar with the flavors and spices, but some dishes are easier than others. He tries to make dosa after you mentioned liking it but it does not go well

He’s trying so hard to impress you but they all keep breaking😭 and the ones that don’t break come out burnt. When he finally relents and lets you help him, you hold his hand and guide him to make the proper movements; pouring the batter, spreading it into a circle, and gently flipping it so it doesn’t break

He loves chai, and is always experimenting with different recipes and flavors and asking you to test them

You're taking him to the Indian market so often, by the end of the month he knows the names for all the vegetables and spices in your language and where to find them

He thinks you with mehendi/henna is the most attractive thing ever

Your friend’s getting married? Of course he’ll feed you while your mehendi’s drying, you don't even have to ask

When it's still fresh and at its darkest color he's actually going batshit insane (pun intended); he loves interlacing your fingers together and seeing the contrast of your dark, decorated fingers against his large, strong ones. His phone background is a selfie of you guys where your faces are squished side-by-side and one of your mehendi'd hands is cupping his cheek

And when you're on top of him, the sight of your adorned hands pressed flat against his bare chest, flushed and heaving...he thinks it belongs in a museum

He just loves doing little acts of service; one day you’re complaining offhandedly to him about how the price of eyebrow threading keeps going up, a week later you’ve forgotten all about it but he’s like “I learned how to thread your eyebrows”

He figured it would be easy enough, and as someone who’s life often depends on steady, surgical aim and precision, it is

Roy’s walking around looking messed up as fuck for a couple weeks but that’s beside the point because he’s got the hang of it now 

When it comes to putting on a sari, he'll put the pins in the hard to reach places if you ask, but for the most part he just loves watching you put it on. he thinks it's so cute the way you scrunch your face in focus as you make the folds and tuck in the fabric with such concentration (Jason Todd domesticity agenda)

One night you're getting dressed up for some party, but no matter what you do and how many times you take it off and try to re-drape it, it just won't come out good and you get so frustrated and teary-eyed that he has to intervene

He makes you take a break, brings you a snack, and kisses you until you feel better, and then he pulls up a youtube video to do it for you— but he can't do it either😭

So you both decide to give up and you wear a lehenga instead

It’s a fairly modest one, and even though he's seen you wearing more-revealing clothes (and none at all), he's going crazy over that one inch sliver of exposed skin on your midriff

He already loves seeing you dressed up in traditional wear but if you put jasmine flowers in your hair with it??? The fragrance coming from you makes him feral. It lingers in your hair for a couple days and he can’t stop following you around and sniffing you LMAO

The first time you get a kurta for him, it’s actually impossible to find one that fits because he’s so big and buff (drool) so you just end up buying the fabric and getting it custom stitched

There's only a few scraps of the fabric left and you get the wonderful idea of braiding the scraps into a bracelet so you have something to match with him and it makes him go crazy

Early on in your relationship, you’re a little afraid to have oil in your hair in front of him because you’re worried he’ll think the smell is too strong

Jason is probably familiar with the practice of hair oiling from his time with Talia (but you don’t know that yet)

He actually LOVES when you oil your hair around him. Just something about him being the only one who gets to see you when you’re comfy and unready is so intimate to him and makes him feel so special and trusted and loved🥹

Time for some of my physical touch x touch starved!Jason propaganda

After a particularly difficult night of patrolling, he comes to you stressed and anxious and unsure what to do with himself. So you make him sit on the floor in front of your bed, warm up some of the oil, and seat yourself on the edge of the mattress. He leans back against your legs and you massage the warm oil into his scalp. It feels heavenly. You’re using the perfect amount of pressure, hitting all the right spots, and it feels so good he wants to cry. Later, when you pull him into the shower to shampoo it out, he actually does cry, hoping the water falling from the shower head hides the tears (it doesn’t, and it breaks your heart)

(If you were raised Hindu) I think he'd be very interested in the belief in reincarnation, past & future lives, oneness with the universe, etc...it might help him make some sense of his coming back

You bring mediation into his life, and that also really helps him

You wear Kajal/kohl/surma on your eyes, and whenever he’s looking especially good, or before he goes out as red hood, you smudge some onto your finger and put a mark behind his ear, just to be safe (it’s believed to deflect jealousy/bad intentions from others) (yes I’m superstitious sue me)

Or you just tie a black thread around his ankle

When you first explain to him that you want him to wear a black thread around his ankle because of a superstition, he thinks you’re joking. He can’t believe you actually believe in that 

But he can’t say no to you and he secretly likes that you also have one so it feels like you’re matching 

He considers it a good luck charm, not because he believes the superstition but because it’s from you