#so then i would take care of her and she liked me more and the friend was pissed. like well...
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militaryapple · 2 days ago
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SHE'S SWEET LIKE CANDY!
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synopsis. you spot something when you're out at the mall with tara. you cant help but think about your boyfriend who's at work doing the best he can, so why not give him a little gift?
cw. fem! reader, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, face fucking, cunnilingus, making him whine, petnames, make him beg for you girl, well its caleb so he a lil nasty icl, nicest I've written caleb
add ons. THIS LITERALLY CAME INTO MY HEAD WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG OHH MY GODDDD GUYSSSHEBDHEB
wc. 2.9k
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it wasn’t everyday you wore lingerie. actually, you didn’t even wear it. you thought the clothing was cute - sexy even! it just.. wasn’t something you were much into. well that was until you saw the set hanging up in a store you passed with tara. you couldn’t take your eyes off it - everytime you found yourself circling around back to the store at the mall, tara now being annoyed with you.
“i thought you weren’t that into lingerie?” she nudges you. she was right— you weren’t, but the thought of you putting it on, spreading yourself on the bed, waiting for him to come home and devour you. the sensation. you needed to buy this - it was a sign.
“i wasn’t” you retorted. sure, you didn’t really think of yourself as the type of woman to put on a show, but you couldn’t help but think about how he’d look at you. maybe he’d slowly glide your hands over the baby doll shaped dress, his hands would gently fondle your tits until your moaning for him - maybe his mouth would kiss all around you while he told you how gorgeous you looked in your newly bought clothes.
you needed that matching set.
“but trying something new wouldn’t hurt, right? it’s pretty cute too ‘tars” you nudged her back. your eyes flickered away from the glass that so proudly showed off the matching set going to your friend. tara glanced from you, to the set, back to you. her eyes scrutinizing you, her gaze watching your movements, face and even posture. it went until a moment after she moved her hands to her mouth. her face contorting into a shocked expression.
“you’re trying to impress - no, show out for someone!” tara yelled in a hush. this wasn’t a question, it was pure fact to her. oh how you hated how correct she was too, fine. you were trying to show out for someone. she wasn’t going to know that. she wouldn’t let you live it down. for sakes it was for caleb after all! part of you thinks he does deserve a little sweet treat for all the hard work he’s been doing for you.
“whaaaaaat? no! what makes you think that? i’m just.. getting more comfortable in my skin y’know?” you tried to avoid her gaze. it was scary how accurate she was on most things, like, crazy accurate. maybe you should cut her off from those spiritual classes, they were obviously working horrible wonders for her.
tara tried to hide the snicker that was coming from her. her hands returning back to her sides before she grabbed your wrist. “fine fine, let’s go get you fitted in the set you’re eyeing. i’ll pay for it - think of it as a celebration! i’ve been waiting for this moment!” you could only sigh.
this was going to be a long while.
when you finally returned home, you thanked tara before rushing up to your door and making your way inside. you could admit, you were partly excited. you couldn’t see yourself fully in the set but based off tara’s inputs you looked ‘totally sexy!’ whatever. you checked your phone and looked at the text that caleb sent you, your face in a smile.
“be home soon pip’s! can’t wait to see what you bought back home! hopefully you got me a gift :)”
oh, you got him a gift. you sure did. you couldn’t help the excited kicks you did before getting the house ready. you started the shower and made sure to get your good razor and body scrub. your washing routine being extra careful. you got out, now scrambling to dry off and get the set.
it took you a minute but you got it on, you rushed back to your bathroom and started to do your hair and makeup, making sure it was subtle but enough to give you a little boost. oh and were you were feeling yourself. anxiously, you made your way to your mirror. your gaze glancing over your body, your face, hair. you looked put together.
you giggled to yourself, striking a pose or two and taking a photo. did you want to surprise caleb when he got home? yes, yes you did. but could you contain yourself? no. no you couldn’t. you set up your room and cleaned up the house a bit before making your way to your bed and settling down. you whipped out your phone and sent a pretty little text to caleb.
“i got you a little something on the side too, wanted to show you now. i can’t wait til you come home, hurry :(” - 1 photo attached.
your bit your finger anxiously. he read it. no response. your mind wandered, what if he didn’t like it? is he weirded out now? did he not want to see you like this? god were you anxious. you couldn’t stand waiting; especially since he didn’t reply to you.
it didn’t take long until you heard the rattling of your door, your head perking up as you got back into the position you were in. he’s home. you scrambled around while the rattling stop and sounds of footsteps filled the air, getting closer and closer to your room.
your door creaked open, caleb stood there, his gaze unwavering from you. his eyes fixed on you while a smile creeped on his face. “so i didn’t imagine it.” he said softly. “welcome home, honey.” you said back oh so sweetly.
caleb didn’t take any time when it came to you, his hands finding their way around your body, his lips kissing every part of you that he could feel. how euphoric this was for both you and him. you were so sweet for him, he could almost cry. “so,” he said whispering, his head digging into your neck. “what made you get dolled up for me? hm? did i do something good?” his voice was intoxicating. how he spoke with such urgency but he was so gentle.
“hmm.. well you’ve been working so hard for me. you deserved something.” you smiled, your hands finding his. caleb felt like he could melt. just for him? for working like he’s always done? oh fuck, it was enough to make his cock twitch with eagerness.
“who am i to deny something so sweet? especially since it’s a gift from you.” he grabbed your hips, turning you over so he could see you on top of him. you were beautiful. his hands roamed around your body, he couldn’t get enough of you. your curves, the way you swayed your hips, how you arched so naturally for him, how you were made for him.
your hands found their way to his face, and he couldn’t help but lean into them letting out a soft moan. “you look really pretty, and I mean ‘fuckin gorgeous.” his words were shaky. his eyes dawned on you. your hands making their way to his jaw, then to his lips. glazing over them slightly before you bent down to give him kisses. such a good idea to wear lipstick.
your lips stained his body, it was proof. proof on how you owned him, how he was yours forevermore. caleb couldn’t help but snicker. “you having fun there?” and you nodded. you reached for his uniform, undoing it and tossing his clothes to the side. your pussy throbbed at the sight of him like this. he was so fucking pretty, like a puppy. the way his eyes looked up at you in a way where he was pleading you to let him ruin your body. the way your lipstick matched such a perfect shade for his skin and how messy his lips looked.
he looked fucking messy, and you haven’t even started.
caleb gripped your thighs, “cmon baby don’t be like that, I’m dying here.” his hips rolling - sending a shiver down your spine. you let out a moan, your hands running down his exposed chest. “i know baby” you coo. your hands moving back, finding his cock and palming it through his pants. you could drink up this sight of him and it was one of the days where his robotic arm was exposed? you were in heaven.
“fuck, fuck fuck fuck, that feels good - real good, please,” his hips bucking up. your hands sliding away while his moans turned into pleas. caleb squeezed on your hip. “no, no no no please baby let me, I’ve been a real good boy.” oh fuck did that do something to you. his face soft with an sad expression. he was so so cute you couldn’t help but tease him. your cunt throbbed from negligence. you leaned down and kissed him again, smiling. “then be a good dog and eat me out.”
you settled your body on his face, not sitting fully but enough for him to taste you. caleb let out a scoff before grabbing your thighs and tugging you down, pushing all your weight on him. “oh cmon baby, i wanna taste all of you.” and that’s what he did. caleb licked your folds and sucked on your nub, his tongue licking your slit and drinking up your arousal. he was eating you out like a starved man.
your hands gripped on his hair, your hips swayed on his lips to his nose. oh fuck did he feel good. caleb used his hands to feel your bra. it was nice, pretty. it suit you so fucking well, fuck you were his pretty girl. he whimpered, allowing you to ride his face. what’d they say? save a plane & ride a pilot? whatever it was, this was fucking it.
caleb placed sloppy kisses around your entrance, using his evol to keep you down while he was able to continue touching you. “if you keep moving baby, i can’t eat my dinner properly.” he chuckled. his tongue finding itself inside your dripping cunt, you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. fuck he was a natural. you twitched while calebs mouth worked wonders on you.
“caleb — caleb ‘m gonna, oh oh please make me cum make me cum,” you whined. his mouth picking up speed as he kissed and licked you. fuck did he make you stupid. caleb placed his last kiss before he felt you twitch. his evol letting you move freely while he flipped you both. “look at your panties baby, they’re all soaked now.” he teased.
you couldn’t help but push him a little. caleb snickered before removing his gloves, his fingers now freed while he kissed your chest. “gonna make you cum a few more times ‘kay?” he smiled. before you could respond his fingers disappeared and your stomach does flips. his fingers big, and long, making your toes curl. “oh fuck, you’re so good caleb — so fucking good for me.”
caleb couldn’t deny, hearing you praise him make his cock throb. he wanted to make you feel like heaven and earth combined. his fingers curling upward making your gasp for air, his thumb rubbing circles on the nub of your clit. “aw baby, i really make you feel that good?” he teased. you grabbed his arm nodding and whining. you wiggled under him - your eyes glistening.
“gonna cum? cmon say you are.” he coo’d. you moaned, body shaking as you tried to at least form a sentence. “yes yes yes ‘m close please please please” god you sounded pathetic under him. he loved it. your walls clenched on his fingers as he stretched you and kissed you. “okay, cum for me then pretty baby.”
you did exactly that. coating his fingers with your juices. you felt weak, and caleb sat up. “what about me baby? i need to cum to.” he said sadly. his cock practically imprinting on his pants. you couldn’t just leave your dear boyfriend like this. you got up, pulling on his waistband and revealing his dick. did he seem.. bigger???
“from all the teasing you’re doing to me. not to mention this cute little outfit you got on.” his face wide in a smile. his tip was swollen, pink and veiny. curling up just enough to hit every one of your sweet spots. you saw the pre-cum that leaked from his slit and you couldn’t help but give it kisses.
“oh, fuck. that’s it baby.” caleb moaned, his hand making its way around your hair, and rubbing your chin.
you looked up at him, swirling your tongue around his tip. fucking perfect. was all he was able to think before you used your other hand to start pumping his cock.
he was big, it took a minute for you to relax your lips and jaw around his head, but once you felt okay; your mouth slammed on him. caleb cried out when he felt you start sucking him. his hands that were once gentle and soft now rough; grabbing your hair and bucking his hips up.
you let your tongue relax while caleb grabbed your head and rammed his cock in your mouth, abusing your throat. “i can’t help it ‘m sorry please you feel so good - so tight.” he pleas. your eyes on him while he looks completely drunk off you. he was such a pretty fucker.
his cock tightened, and your throat slacken. caleb looked down at you and moved his hands to your face. plugging your nose.
it didn’t take long for caleb to be slamming into your mouth aimlessly. his hips spurt and a ‘pop!’ sound comes from your mouth, caleb’s dick hitting your face while he came all over it. you gasped and moan. “thaaaat’s it pretty girl.”
caleb moved behind you, his hands cupping your bra then moving to the straps, undoing the clips and taking the bra off. “the sheer gown stays on.” he kisses your neck. “you look so pretty in it.”
he pushed you down gently, bringing your ass up and aligning his cock with your entrance. caleb bit his lip, “need you to relax up a little okay?” he asked, and then he eased his way in. you felt so fucking warm. the way you clenched around his cock so nicely - how he stretched you even after prepping you. it was delicious.
caleb thrusted into you, hitting your cunt in all different ways. his pace picking up speed while he groaned. “got all pretty for me, do you know how hard it was to keep my composure at work?” he whined, snapping his hips back to you. his abs rocking against you. “couldn’t even jerk myself, fuck fuck, I came home as soon as I could just for you baby.”
he was mean. his tip kissing your cervix over and over again making you into a wobbly slobbering mess of cries and moans. caleb brought his hand down right between your thighs, rubbing circles over your already crying cunt. “reeeaal nasty girl you got here baby.” he teased you, placing a kiss on your back.
caleb grabbed your hips, slamming into you continuously. you couldn’t help but rock your hips attempting to match his pace. fuck did he like the view. his pretty baby, who once was dolled up now defiled into a pathetic whiny mess. “caleb - caleb,” you whined in your pillow. makeup smearing everywhere, nice one. now you have to buy a new pillow set.
you felt yourself getting close.
it was coming fast.
you lifted your head, moaning at the feeling of caleb’s cock burying itself back into your walls and out again. euphoric. “i feel weird. so weird baby please —”
caleb hushed you “i know baby it’s okay, im close too, yeah? come on baby come on.” he coo’s. caleb’s hips snapped and you felt a little ‘pop!’ and then a nudge near your stomach. he was in. fully. you moaned and gripped your sheets, tears streaming down your face as caleb fucked you like he was in heat.
caleb nipped at your tits, he fucking loved them. how perky and sensitive they were, how everytime he kissed them you whined in response, hell, caleb loved everything about your body. when it came to you he wanted to touch and explore you. his pretty doll.
he grabbed your arms, bringing you up and kissing your neck. “cum for me baby, cmon you can do it.” he hummed. oh how those words felt like heaven for you. it wasn’t until you started twitching as caleb now thrusted slower into you, and then it happened.
you sprinkled out a clear liquid on his cock. twitching and moaning while it dripped everywhere, you panted and whined. your body relaxing as you collapse while caleb came right inside your cunt. grunting, watching the little show you gave him.
caleb pulled out of you in awe. “did you just squirt all over me?” he teased you. you heaved, letting out small “m sorry”s. caleb could only chuckle at the sight.
“it’s fine baby, it was a show for me. felt good!” he smiled. caleb could see you were tapping out, breathing heavily as your lingerie was now messy with sweat, cum and what he liked to call ‘pussy juice.’ he smiled, his eyes looking over you and then placing a kiss on your cheek as you flopped to your side.
“i’ll get the water running, this was a nice gift princess. i might start buying you more lingerie sets from now on.” he chuckled before walking out the room.
yeah, maybe you could get used to this.
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urmum-lovesme · 2 days ago
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Ok but toxic!dad!rafe where this don’t effect the children’s life but when it come to the mother of his kids he’s still very overprotective. I mean she is a MILF.
This is the best thing I've ever heard anon I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.
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Toxic!Rafe as a dad?
Surprisingly present. 
His kid adores him, and in their eyes, he’s just their cool, protective father. He spoils them, takes them out on the yacht all the time, and he makes sure they have everything they could ever want. He told himself he would never be like Ward if he ever became a father, and he- for a change- was living up to his word.
But when it comes to their mom? That’s where the real problem is.
Because Rafe does not change when it comes to Y/N.
Y/N falling pregnant, certainly wasn't planned. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She was young, she had a future and more than anything, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay with Rafe, let alone have a baby with him. She didn't tell Rafe right away. Not because she was hiding it, but because she knew- deep in her gut- that he wouldn’t react like a normal person. She needed time to think, to weigh her options, to figure out what she wanted before he got involved.
But Rafe found out anyway.
Y/N had been so incredibly careful, she didn't leave any trace of the positive pregnancy test in Tannyhill; but he just knew her too well, sensed that something was off when she stopped drinking.
“What?”
His voice was quiet at first, his brows furrowed, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. But then the realisation hit. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, the room suddenly feeling too small. His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath it.
“You were gonna tell me, right?”
“Rafe, I—I don’t know what I’m going to do yet—”
Wrong answer. His hand shot out, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him.
“The fuck do you mean, you don’t know?” His breath was hot against her face, his fingers digging into her skin.
“That’s my kid, Y/N.”
Her stomach churned, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“I just- Rafe, I need time to think—”
“No, you don’t.”
He cut her off, shaking his head like the idea itself was ridiculous, angrily running a hand through his messed up hair.
“You don’t need to think. It’s already decided.”
She tried to take a step back, but his grip tightened, his other hand settling on her waist, firmly keeping her closer to him.
“We’re having this baby.”
Her breath caught in her throat as the words passed his lips, tears stinging her eyes before she could stop the feeling.
“I don’t- Rafe, this is my choice—”
His fingers pressed harder, his face inches from hers.
“No, it’s ours.”
Even now when they have a child together, he still watches her like a hawk. Still gets unreasonably possessive when she dresses a certain way, still makes a scene when he catches another man looking at her for a second too long. And she knows better than to fight him on it- most of the time.
It’s a summer afternoon, and she’s lounging by the pool, drink in hand, wearing a bikini that makes Rafe’s jaw clench. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over her as she adjusted the thin strap of her bikini top. It was tiny- too fucking tiny. The black fabric barely covered her tits, which, thanks to breastfeeding, were even fuller now, spilling slightly over the edges. His jaw clenched as his gaze dragged down, taking in the way the strings hugged her hips, digging into soft, newly gained curves that had him gripping the bottle in his hand just a little harder.
His friends are over, and while they’re talking, his eyes keep flicking toward her, watching the way the fabric clings to her curves. And then- Topper nudges him, nodding toward one of the new neighbours talking to her.
Rafe’s face goes dark.
She’s laughing at something the guy said, totally unaware of the way Rafe’s grip tightens around his beer bottle. He doesn’t make a scene- not yet- but when the guy finally walks away, Rafe strides over, towering over her as she peers up from her sun bed. His voice is deceptively smooth, but she knows that tone.
"Having fun, baby?"
"Yes."
His fingers skim her thigh, tracing the edge of her bikini bottoms.
"You looked like you were having a little too much fun."
She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on her head, she had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going.
"Seriously?"
"Dead serious." He leans down, voice dropping.
"Go inside and cover up."
She scoffs, shifting to sit up, the towel underneath her crumpling slightly as she moved,
"It’s our backyard and it's a pool party-."
"-I don’t give a fuck."
"Rafe, you’re being ridiculous."
"Yeah?" His grip tightens on her thigh.
"Then why’s he looking at you like he wants to fuck you?"
Her stomach flips.
"Stop," she hisses, even as heat creeps up her neck. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in so only she can hear.
"Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, huh?"
Her breath catches.
And the way he says it? The way his hand tightens on her thigh, just enough to send a warning? It sends a shiver down her spine, even as she glares at him. Because she knows- if she doesn’t listen now, he’ll make her.
Somehow, their kid never see this side of Rafe, he makes sure of it.
To them, their dad is just protective, he just 'cares about mommy so much!'. They never see the way their mother bites her lip in frustration when Rafe pulls her away from conversations. They never see the bruises he leaves- not always from violence, but from gripping her too tight, kissing her too hard. They don’t hear the way she argues in hushed tones behind closed doors, or the way she eventually gives in and melts into him anyway.
Because as much as she hates his jealousy and his control, she loves him too much to walk away.
He is the father of her child after all
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lologoinsolo · 2 days ago
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Added after this one, Part 3, Part 4
Cats and Their Men Masterlist
You stammer at the man as he holds what looks to be a calico. His face looks worse for wear despite how handsome he is. Cut lip and cheek that look as though maybe the cause is from the one wiggling in his hands. “Sir, the uh,” you look down at your phone for the time. “The stores about to close.” You look from him to the kitten and then back to him.
“I know,” he sighs, “I’m sorry. Really, I am but I’ve no idea what I’m doing.” He rubs at the baby’s head and she nips right at his finger. He groans, “why are you so mean? You were all cuddly in my lap and now you’re being hissy.”
You laugh a little at his lament and rub your own face. “Alright,” you can’t very well leave him like this. You’re sure the kitten would be more than happy to chew on something better than the man’s finger. “Come on,” you motion for him to follow. You don’t bother to page for someone to cover the front. The store’s about to close in 2 minutes anyways. “I’ll get you started, sir.”
“Kyle,” he grins when you quirk a brow, “just Kyle, none of that ‘sir’ business or else I’ll feel far older than I actually am.” He rests his kitten against his chest when she starts wiggling even more. “Curious little bugger, found her shivering at my front door.” There’s a glint in his eye as he retells his findings, “she didn’t even notice me grabbing her till I picked her up and look what she did to my face.” He says with dramatic flare when he holds her up to his eye view. The kitten merely blinks at him and her paws prod his nose.
You pull a cart since you have a feeling he’ll need a lot of things. He doesn’t give off ‘I already have a cat’ energy. “Serves you right for spooking her.” You joke about his woes when he gives you a playful glare.
“You’re only siding with her because she didn’t mark up your pretty face.”
You cough at that and push the cart more quickly down the aisle. You can handle getting yelled and cussed at but god forbid a handsome man says you’re pretty. “So,” you manage to say when he gives you a dazzling smile. He caught up quickly to your step and looks neither winded or strained. Why are all the tall men getting kittens? You inwardly roll your eyes, “you said a friend told you to find me?”
His brow raises slightly and he maneuvers his kitten to be more in his arms. “Yeah,” he simply says, “says you know a thing or two about cats.”
“Did he..” you look a bit hopeful, “did he say if he’d come back to the store.” Picking up some cat toys and placing some cute orange cat shaped bowls in the cart. “He uh, he left in a hurry last I saw.” You give a quick reasoning so as not to feel as desperate as you sound. You still feel the phantom touch of his hand. You never got his name

“Can’t really tell,” he shrugs and he plucks some crinkle toys and tosses them in the cart. He doesn’t seem to care about pricing either. “Man’s unreadable unless you tell him a stupid joke.” There’s a short chuckle and flash of a memory that goes through his eyes.
You deflate a little, it wouldn’t make sense to feel like this. You don’t know mafia guy anyways. “Ah, well. If you see him, tell him he needs to take his cat to the vet.” Kyle nods and he perks up when he sees the cat clothing.
“When you get older, rug, I’m gonna buy you one of these.” He points to a cut pirate costume as if the kitten understands him. “You’ll hate me for it but at least I can get a picture out of it, yeah?”
You smile at his enthusiasm, from what you seem cats have never been a fan of clothing
 but then again the clothing here doesn’t look— “wait,” you jerk your head to him, “rug? As in,” you gesture to the kitten that’s starting to meow when he pulls her back down from his shoulders. She must’ve climbed up there when he was looking through the clothes. “The cat?” You blink once then twice when he shrugs once more.
“Not really a naming guy, plus,” he rubs along her ears, “she was shivering on my rug. Figured I’d just say that and be done with it.”
Better than garbage, you think. “Well
” biting on your lip, “that’s unique.” Trying to save face, you don’t want to be too judgmental.
He gives you a look and then snickers, “I’m just kidding, love.” He comes close and you freeze slightly till he plops his kitten down in your hands. “About the rug name at least. I really am shit with names. Johnny’s better at naming animals.” Placing his hand on his hip and you wonder if that’s mafia guy but then you think maybe not. “If you got an idea then I’m all ears.” He turns on his side and he rubs his chin in thought. He mutters something and then walks off to the litter aisle.
You hold her in your hands. “A name, huh?” Bailey was the only name you could think of but that one’s been taken already
 “hm,” you rub her nose to the top of her head. She seems to enjoy that as she curls into your fingers. “Pretty girl, what should your name be?” Humming softly in thought and leaning against the cart when Kyle comes back with a tub of litter and a nice looking litter box. You hadn’t expected to see the nice flex of muscle from his arms but you’re certainly not gonna complain about the view. “I got a secret to share, Kyle.” You say as he comes within earshot
“Oh, yeah?” He smiles and places the litter box in the cart first and then the tub. “What’s that? Promise I won’t tell a soul.” He makes an X over his chest.
“I’m shit with names too.”
His shoulders jump and he lets out a laugh. “Really?” Rolling his eyes, “guess we’re both in a pickle. Might have to stick with rug for now.” He rubs a thumb over his kitten's little head. She nips a little at his finger but he doesn’t seem to mind. He pats the top of her head like one would a dog.
“I think she hates that idea.”
“Very opinionated this one,” he takes over the pushing of the cart and you lead him down to the cat food aisle. You check her teeth and you are pleasantly happy that she won’t need formula. “Now,” he turns side to side to check the kinds of food the store sells. “What does my girl need?”
You give him a thorough answer after having learned your lesson with your mystery man. Explaining what he should and shouldn’t do and placing a weeks worth of 3 different foods. You then also speak about how he’ll need to see a vet. You checked her for fleas and you are incredibly happy to tell him that she only had one but that it’s still good for him to get some flea drops. After you give him the runaround once more around the store, checking for items you know she won’t need but she absolutely needs a carrot cat scratcher. You finally take him to your register so he can pay. Your manager looks none too happy about a remaining customer but your manager has nothing to remark when Kyle looks right at him.
“Okay,” you finally say after bagging all his items and placing them in the cart. “Here’s your receipt,” you pass it to him and you give a little pet to his kitten. “Sweet girl when she wants to be.” He chuckles around you and pockets his receipt.
“Only when she wants to, that’s for sure.” He lets out a low whistle, “cost me a high bill but only the best for her.” He tucks her a little closer and gives you a kind look. “Thanks for staying late for me,” he looks like he wants to say more but hesitates. “I’ll see you around?”
You blink and then nod quickly, “I’m always here, Kyle. Gotta make money,” you laugh shortly and his lips pull back so that you can see just a peep of his pearly whites. He takes his leave, chugging along his cart to place it in his car. He mouths something to his kitten when she tries to get out of his hands. Probably a scolding with how he tuts a finger side to side in front of her face. She’s hearing none of it though from how her tail flicks back and forth. You wave him goodbye and he waves back right at you before he steps in to drive away. You hope he’ll come back to tell you her name once he’s figured it out. You wonder if mafia guy will come back too

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mywritersmind · 1 day ago
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WORSHIP ME - LN4 âœŠăƒ»ÛȘÛȘÛ« . ✩. ÛȘÛȘÛ« ăƒ»âœŠ
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summary : In which a rant on a bathroom counter turns into your best friend going off and confessing his feelings.
listen up : kissing! I LOVE THIS
words : 905
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The counter is cool against my skin, my skirt inches higher up my thigh as my leg is straightened in front of me and my head knocked back against the mirror. “I’m sick of it.” I can’t help but say after another dickhead date. “I hate men.”
“I’m a man.” Lando says, standing in front of me like some night in shining armor. His fingers ghost over my skin before they find my heel strap, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You don’t count.” I sigh to my best friend. He’s also dressed up, in a nice black suit and his hair still perfect. I’m assuming he was on a date but honestly, I didn’t ask.
His hands are cold against my skin, successfully pulling off one of my heels. His brow raises at my words.
“I just- I want someone to love me.” My eyes detach from his as I look around the bathroom is true self interest, “I’m sick of getting excited at a text back or blushing if someone compliments me. Compliments my body, by the way. It’s nice sometimes, don’t get me wrong! But I have other qualities other than nice tits!”
He laughs at the last bit, his tinge darting over his lips, “The guy tonight didn’t tell you that you have a beautiful mind?” His tone is sassy and gets met with my heel in his chest.
It doesn’t hurt him of course, just makes him laugh more. He drags my ankle tightly again as if he’s trying to punish me, Jesus I don’t even think he would hurt me by accident.
“I’m serious, Lando!” I groan as his fingers find my heel again, “It’s infuriating!”
“I’m sure it is.” He mumbles.
“You wouldn’t understand! I want to be something else than a fucking one night stand! I want someone to care. Fuck caring I want a man to worship me!”
He lets out a frustrated groan just as my heel falls off. He doesn’t let go of my foot. “You really want that?” He says as if it’s the craziest thing in the world.
“Yes!”
“And you really don’t think I understand it?” He’s frustrated but I don’t know why.
“I mean, yeah.”
“You want to know what I want?”
“Enlighten me.” I say a bit more sassy than I meant it.
He nods, holding back an eye roll as his hand makes its way to my knee and causing me to inhale, “I want a woman.”
“Wow, so picky.” I roll my eyes and look away but his tug at my leg makes me look back.
“I want a girl to stay in my bed for more than just my name. I want a woman who laughs so hard with me that she cries. I want her to actually open her fucking eyes!”
I swallow, “Hm?”
“Christ! I’m taking off your bloody heels and letting you complain to me about every guy on this earth who wants you and you still can’t see that i’m sick of it.”
I frown, “Then tell me to stop.”
He groans, his adam's apple bobbing as he looks away, “That's the problem. I’m sick of it because after this we’ll go back to my room and sleep. And then you’ll wake up and kiss my cheek in those fucking satin shorts you love and you’ll leave me for the next date who won’t text you fast enough or pick you up after a hard day.”
I’m absolutely silent now. “No
 that’ll be me who has my notifications on extra loud just for you and my keys always in hand just in case I hear that *ping* from my phone. I’m sick of it because you can’t see that any of those guys will never treat you as good as I do. I’ll worship you forever.”
His hand is still on my knee.
It’s silent, besides Lando’s soft breathing from his rant and my heart beating so fast that I swear he can hear it.
“I’m sick of it too.” I don’t think. I just act. His lips are on mine in a second, my hands gripping his face as he reacts late to the sudden contact. “I’m so sorry.” I breathe out as he stares at me, my lipstick is on him.
He doesn’t say anything before one hand snakes up my leg and another is gripping my waist, pulling me into the best kiss of my life.
He’s not rough, just eager. Something I match easily as he slides me closer so he’s in between my legs. His tongue slides into my mouth as my hand finds his hair. Fuck I love his hair.
“You’re an idiot.” I breathe in between kisses.
“So are you.” He fights back as he tugs at my hair playfully.
I grin. “TouchĂ©.”
“But you’re fucking amazing.” He kisses my jaw, “Every part of you.”
I tilt my head back and drop my arms to my side as he clings onto me still. “All the guys
 the dates
 I really did dream that you’d save me from all that. I think I may have done it to provoke you.”
He laughs and pulls back, his green eyes playful and bright, “You’re an evil mastermind.”
I smile and use my thumb to wipe away my lipstick on his chin, “I like getting what I want.”
“You staying for breakfast tomorrow?”
“I’m staying forever.”
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aakaneeee · 2 days ago
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Love is presented in many ways throughout Alien Stage: For Mizi and Sua, it's codependent, romantic to a worrying extent. For Ivan and Till, it's one sided, unrequited, and painful.
And for Hyuna and Luka, it's a curse.
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Not only a curse, but one that haunts them. Jacob once told Hyuna to "Forgive yourself", which, to her, was misplaced. She could have forgiven herself. It was Luka who she couldn't forgive. But, in the end, she couldn't fulfill the legacy. She couldn't forgive herself for loving Luka. She couldn't forgive Luka for killing who she loved. And so, what did she do? She passed on the legacy.
The words "Forgive yourself" didn't help her. They built who she was, but in the worst possible way. She couldn't take his words, because she didn't consider herself the culprit, but the one she resented.
She told this curse, "Forgive yourself" again. She told them to Luka, sentence that almost sounded mocking on her lips. She couldn't have died before because she had to keep moving forward, but now, the pressure wasn't on her shoulders anymore.
She loves Luka, of course she does. But she cannot possibly forgive him. She knows he doesn't realize the suffering he inflicts. It's ironic, he's so unbearably smart, solving puzzles in a matter of seconds, but he doesn't know how to take in the real world, and the feelings of the ones around him, the most important 'puzzle' of them all. So, she gives him the biggest dilemma of his life. It's harsh, cruel, messed up in every sense. It's the puzzle she knew he could never solve, because she herself, who knew humanity, couldn't. Hyuna knew Luka loved her more than himself. And Hyuna cared for Hyunwoo more than for herself. Luka killed Hyunwoo, and so, Hyuna repaid him with the same coin, an eye for an eye. With an act that is the ultimate sacrifice, and the ultimate revenge.
As I have said, Hyuna knew the love he had for her, beyond the limits of his own body. She must've known how much her act would destroy his world: a fate worse than death. Her kind tone, telling him to take as much time as he needs to solve the newfound question she has proposed in such an ugly way, appears almost taunting.
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And the way she holds him in her arms, purposefully close, and looks into his eyes, makes it just so much more painful. And yet, when she speaks her soul, passes everything she was carrying on her shoulders, over to him, her face is hidden away, buried in his shoulder. She's free. She finally had her revenge. She can forgive him, and then herself, even though the price was destroying him, without building him up again. Leaving him like pieces of a puzzle that never got solved. She's been cruelly betrayed, and she, even more cruelly, fed him his own medicine.
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Hyuna is haunted by both Hyunwoo and Luka, similar to how Mizi is haunted by Sua. Hyunwoo brings the horror aspect: the bloodied blouse and head, while Luka has the smile that Sua has in the imaginations. The two people she loved most: the one who couldn't forgive her because she didn't get to apologize, and the one she didn't forgive. It's all so incredibly complex: she hates and loves, she resents and adores. Hyuna can't pick anymore. We're shown that she's such an active person, sociable, loving, having a whole group of humans just like her, and yet, we're told that she thinks all of them are selfish, even if they seem altruistic. She doesn't trust them, it seems it's a facade. In this, Luka and Hyuna are similar, but divided by the fact he wants to conceal his emotions, and she wants to make them more visible.
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This page, specifically, made me click MiziSua and HyuLuka together. They look scarily alike. The same lovey-dovey expression, versus the distressed one of the lover, even the slight glow that Luka has is similar. I think this is meant to show that they still depend on each other, despite the fact that Hyuna seems to resent him so much.
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Hyuna says Luka doesn't know the meaning of love. That the only thing he's ever shown, the only thing he genuinely knows, is suffering, and that his abilities basically stop at inflicting the same. (At least, emotional ones.) This is a parallel to Ivan, in my opinion, who didn't know love either, but he liked the idea of it. Instead, Luka loved with everything he had, even though he had no idea what it truly was. His love is obsessive, and somehow, so impossibly innocent at the same time. Because in a way, he's still a child. When he sees Hyuna, he becomes immature again, his facade of control dissipating into thin air. He mocked Mizi for her inability, but he's even worse.
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According to his ear monitor, his heart was beating out of his chest. He could hear his own erratic heartbeat. It's painful, how happy he was, how excited, to be in her arms again. And yet, despite the love, the embrace was just as much of revenge.
Ever since Wiege, we've seen Luka smile so much. Just for him to never truly smile again.
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I am a fan of the gentleness that Hyuna treats young Luka with. She seems awfully attached to the image of that innocence she knew. But it's not like Mizi's idea of Sua, the perfect one. It's an image she can't bear seeing again. "I couldn't stand seeing myself on those posters, because I knew exactly the face the you'd have. Yes, I bet you were smiling ear to ear." We've only seen him like this for the first time, but to her, it was so familiar, even years apart, she still knew.
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Another thing I have noticed is that Hyunwoo's grave is right infront of a tree, almost separated from the others, just the way Luka was sitting before Hyuna found him. Now, this time, Hyunwoo lost Hyuna, and he's forever forced to be lonely in the garden he'll never grow out of.
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Hyuna wanted to give Luka a rubik's cube he wouldn't be able to solve, something difficult. A rubik's cube can represent human nature, who Luka seems to have mastered completely. But Hyuna finally manages to postpone him: the puzzle is herself.
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And in the end, after Hyuna's body goes limp, he finally manages to take her in his arms. He promised that there, she'd be safe, but he didn't manage to keep her that way. And suddenly, the words "My Savior" from Ruler of my Heart are awfully true.
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xylatox · 1 day ago
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harvest of purity — a sunghoon fic I absolutely waited too long to read, but I'm so looking forward to it. Ngl, the religious themes content advisory and the southern gothic vibes were my inclinations to read this piece.
Already enraptured by the opening paragraph.
The day you were born, your father knew there was something greatly wrong with you. He claimed that on the day you ripped your mother open, screaming and crying, that God spoke to him for the first time. He called it divine intervention. Believing the birth of your soul was a red-herring of all that was set to come but God would show him the light, the truth: that you were nothing short of evil and needed saving.  — God, I know I'm already going to love this entire piece, I love religious themes like this being present. I love how it already seems that reader's birth is tied with everything bad happening at home when sometimes life just gets shitty all at once, and I know, from the first interaction with the dad, reader is already seen as inherently evil. And I love that reader is technically a preachers!daughter too, making me even more obsessed.
The while sacrificial lamb scene???? obsessed. I always love when characters deem animal sacrifices still viable, especially in modern context where it technically is no longer needed but ugh, obsessed.
At the end of the line is a man more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in the movies. You feel stuck in time, left with parted lips, staring at the man before you. And far too intently for your character. He stands tall, sharp, pale, and elegant. What is a boy like this doing here? He averts his eyes from you, clearly uncomfortable by what’s before him. He looks uneasy, shifting his weight foot to foot with his hands behind his back. His pretty eyes glance around from you to your mother to the other men and the ground. He simply doesn’t know what to do with himself. You find it dangerously darling of him.  — the first glimpses of Sunghoon!!
I'm obsessed with how the relationship between reader and Sunghoon almost feels like one akin to a wolf and lamb?? like —Although you’re wearing the lamb, having Sunghoon’s hand in yours made you feel like a wolf.  — obsessed what the hell.
Either way he can feel his faith slipping; he is cupping holy water in hands during an earthquake. — I absolutely love this
I also love the incorporation of how some churches operate where they grow you up thinking any kind of interaction with someone of the opposite sex was sinful. — How the way his name leaves your lips makes him want to crumble like a burning church. And how he silently likes the fact he can’t control the way his body is reacting to your hands on him. — im obsessed with all the church comparisons.
There are other times where you confuse him. You suggest a water break knowing he’d gone hours without hydration under the summer heat. You insist on having him take a break under a roof away from the sun when his skin gets too sweaty or red. Which is followed by a reminder that sunscreen is important if he wishes to keep his milky complexion. It’s critical statements that you provide him, but he can’t help to think it’s a weird way of showing you care. — aside from her odd personality (as a result of heavy trauma, religious and otherwise) reader is oddly adorable 😭
“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Sunghoon, bemused, watches the man smoke and laugh between weak coughs. “She has a dad?” His last question is overroad by the man who speaks over him. — LMFAO😭😭😭😭😭😭 not Sunghoon assuming she's fatherless (valid), this is hilarious to me.
It's so cute Sunghoon got her flowers😭 but poor baby is so innocent ahh, like assuming you're her boyfriend???
The rain pours harder outside with whips of harsh winds smacking the window. It’s almost like God’s wrath is screaming to be seen, to shout that He is watching.  — this has to be some universal thing that kids who grew up Christian did. Like I always assumed heavy rainfall was God being angry or crying.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a week now,” he admits with a small laugh. “Not exactly there but that’s fine. I wish you would let me help you feel good too.” he whispers, looking back to the windowsill where the gifted flowers stood in their vase with the raging storm as their backdrop. — this is, oddly so fucking sweet even if he's currently inside her lmfao
The entire moment with them in the town, Sunghoon thinking it's a date, so cute. I love how much of reader's personality shines through because of him.
“I’ve got good muscles, remember? Good for farm work,” he’s patient and calm with you while his eyes watch the man from outside the glass cafe windows. “Come on, baby.”— the pet name,I'm gonna throw up
I love how we see the extent of the religious trauma and abuse reader faced and how it really affected almost every aspect of her life and through Sunghoon, we see bits and pieces of a girl who was once there before life tarnished her.
Confused and wide eyed, you watch him lean into your face. You gasp when his lips meet yours before returning the notion. With eyes closed, you melt into his kiss. It’s sweet as all the things you’ve experienced today because of him. — THEY. ARE. SO. CUTE😭
HELKO??????? SUNGHOON SHOOTS THE DAD???, OMG I THOUGGT READER WAS GONNA DIE FRFR???
This was absolutely amazing omg. It truly did not disappoint. Like I am obsessed.
harvest of purity — sunghoon [ 박성훈 ]
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pairing ⩂ sunghoon ⹯ fem. reader
synopsis ⩂ au in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.
genre ⩂ smut, slow burn romance, strangers to lovers word count ⩂ 29k tags ⩂ fluff and angst, repressed desires, innocence loss, guilt and shame, exploring relationships, falling in love, southern gothic vibes, summer au, clingy down bad sunghoon, ‘mean’ morally gray reader, both are weirdo loser freaks content advisory ⩂ mdni ! dark-ish content ⚠ sexually explicit content in four scenes: handjob, oral (m. rec.), dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption!kink, degradation!kink, praise!kink, switch!hoon, he whines whimpers and cries; religious themes, concepts, corruption, and criticism; manipulation, animal death, blood, intense scenes, abusive parenting, gun mention and use
note ⩂ poured my heart out. i hope you love it as much as i do. dedicated to my other evil, off-putting, and/or weird girls┊reblogs and feedback encouraged ⇀ playlist ➝➝ masterlist đŸŒŸ
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 You’re not sure what life in your small town was like before you were born. You can imagine it’s not too different from what it is now though. The thing about old country towns is they never seem to change. Open fields and miles of farmland. Two gas stations, one grocery store, a few family owned vegetable stands or in-home produce product shops. Only one notable neighborhood where the majority of the townspeople lived if not hidden somewhere else in the countryside. And too many churches to keep track of if the abandoned ones were included in the count. 
You like to think your parents were happy before you too. Hopeful and optimistic when offered to take over your uncle’s farm. Excited for the next step in their relationship after their marriage. They were the ideal family dream coming to life: high school lovers, engaged after graduation, married, a career handed to them through family with a large property of land and lovely farmhouse. All that was left was to grow that family. To have children to not only help tend the fields and animals but run around barefoot, all smiles, and wide eyed. 
You were positive that it was something they wanted. 
But life couldn’t have been that easy for them; it would’ve been too gratuitous of a blessing.
The day you were born, your father knew there was something greatly wrong with you. He claimed that on the day you ripped your mother open, screaming and crying, that God spoke to him for the first time. He called it divine intervention. Believing the birth of your soul was a red-herring of all that was set to come but God would show him the light, the truth: that you were nothing short of evil and needed saving. 
That year on the farm there was nothing but death. It only furthered your father’s harsh thinking of you. The crops and produce either died or rotted before it had the chance to grow or ripe. The animals were dropping dead from unknown illnesses. Every female livestock that gave birth passed in doing so. Barely any profits were made that year. Taxes were rising and so were the prices of nearly everything. It was a huge toll for your family, especially when raising their first child. Before you were even conscious of the situation everything was already deemed your fault. 
Through the harrowing struggle, your father’s optimism turned to resentment. He claimed that bringing you to the farm was not like bringing a daughter home, but a corrosive parasite. He believed that you were the reason for the life being sucked away from their perfect farm life. So, he turned to the only thing that he could trust to save the family from your curse: God. Begging and pleading through prayers every morning and night to the sky for a better season. 
He studied religion here and there before taking over his brother-in-law's farm but with the farm failing for the first time, he took a change of career paths. He was already well known among the locals, close with the church goers in the community. And somewhere along the way, he managed to start preaching himself. Nearly every christian in your town moved churches to follow where he went. Like sheep to a shepherd. 
If only they knew what you did, what he was truly like behind the closed doors of your home. How his devotion was turning to violence. Day by day, becoming uglier. 
While your father busied himself with his new found family, often away from home on the farm, the crops and animals began to thrive again. Slowly but surely, growing and regaining health. He would say it’s God’s doing, a small taste of His salvation. 
Your early years were mostly troubled by the relationship of your parents. Too young to fully understand their disputes, drawing at the kitchen table with their yelling sounding the house. It was always about you, that much you knew. Because you watch and you listen. Quick to learn that they tried for another child but never had any success. They wanted someone else to be their baby. Something that felt more like a blessing than you. Your father constantly spitting in your mother’s face that you were the rot to the fruit of her womb. And then he would always end up leaving by slamming the door and your mother would always join you at the table with tears and a bottle of wine. You always just watched, listening in silence. Perhaps just born resilient.
Growing up was different for you compared to most of the kids in your town. You never had the opportunity to make many friends being homeschooled. The only time that was spent around others your age was kindergarten. Kindergarten was short lived because of your behavior; the teachers at school were concerned about you. How you were mean, rough, and sinister with your actions towards others. Picking on the kids you were simply interested in because of how different from you they were. Drawing pictures of gutted cattle or dead, half developed baby chicks still in their shell and giving them as gifts to the teachers. Sharing to classmates the cruelty of farm life and why it was pretty with a smile. 
Your father loved to find out about this, you could see it in his eyes. The way they were wicked and screamed I told you so to your mother. You didn’t understand why it was bad or caused trouble. You were only having fun for the first time. The way the kids ran away crying or the teachers wore faces of shocked horror, it made your insides light up in joy. A new feeling—a sense of excitement. You didn’t know it was sick. And of course, it was taken from you. You were removed from school and your mother became your teacher. Your classmates became stuffed animals and the real ones in the barns. It was hard for you to find that joy you briefly felt with others. 
Sometimes you had a glimpse of it again when your father would punish you. But even that you grew sick of. The mess, the stench of it all. Sticky and red, worse in the heat of summer. He drilled the sick moto for his actions into your head, “I know no punishment, only mercy.”
Father took you both to church more often after that. He had a false image to uphold afterall, one of a happy, God loving family. In his ego he had to prove that his preaching and prayers could fix you, save you. But that was only admitted at home, loud and scary to your mother. Your poor mother, weak and defensive of you, eventually waved her white flag. You wished she kept fighting for you and that she wouldn’t begin to see you the way your father did. 
Childhood and adolescence was a string of questions about yourself. Never quite finding out what made you so bad to be seen as devilish when all you thought of yourself was curious. Perhaps just unlucky to be correlated with negative happenings on and off the farm, always gone without a chance of understanding. Despite it all, you knew well enough the way your parents talked and looked at you was without unconditional love. 
On your 17th birthday, the family dynamic made the biggest shift to be experienced. 
At this age, you had such a strong sense of independence and with the lack of parental guidance and monitoring, you would leave town when you could. Ride your bike down the long road to the bus stop at the center of town and take the bus into the city over. Your mother was generous with allowance and you saved your money well, only spending it on books or trips to the movie theater. A form of escape that allowed you to learn more about the world and all the things your parents tried to keep hidden from you. A way to learn how to be human. 
So when your father was tearing your room apart in search of the same gift he re-gifts you every year, he found some things that made his stomach churn. Every year for your birthday he rewrapped the same, first ever, bible he’d given you. Funny enough that he gave you anything at all considering he never even referred to it as your day, only his day of revelation. And to his disgust, on his sacred day, he found books and journals of explicitly detailed copulation and debauchery. 
He almost fainted. Stumbling over his own feet, hands shaking as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the words on the pages. That was the only time you smiled on that day. Just for a second. And then a glimpse of hell broke loose. 
In a rage, he destroyed everything. Your mother stood next to you in tears, telling him to stop and stop. Her hands covered her face but she saw everything through her fingers. You only watched in silence, hands balled in fists by your side. A silent hatred and anger coursed in you. He called you names that no man of God should, especially to his own daughter. 
“You’re a disgraceful deviant of Satan! I should’ve known. My own day of revelation is a curse!” You watched him rip pages apart, his voice booming through the house. “Years spent praying for you and this is how you turn out?! Succumbing to nothing but a dreaming whore?!”
A part of you liked his mean words. It was so rare for him to use such colorful language. 
You knew what would come next. He was going to have you ‘cleansed’. Something he always did when he discovered something new and sacrilegious of you. 
But it didn’t come. Because there was no dying, old sheep on the farm at the time. He did make a promise to not forget though. A promise to have you washed in sacrificial, blessed blood on a day you least expected. 
Your father left after that, leaving you and your mother behind. He moved to the city to continue his preaching at a larger church. He became known as the closest reverend to God for miles and miles. Lost in his ways, he only made visits when he needed to sort things out for the business of the farm.
You were content with his departure, yet couldn’t quite understand why your mother missed him. As far as you’ve seen, he was never kind towards either of you. 
 But now, it’s several years later. And although you’re free of your father’s heavy presence and homilies, he still makes his trips to the farm. You can feel the air change whenever he does, as if you’ve gained a sixth sense for his coming. Naturally intuitive to things having spent your childhood walking on eggshells in your own home. 
And today, the air feels particularly chill for summer. The breeze sweeps in through your open window. The forecast called for nothing but sunshine all week, yet there’s an angry, dark cloud hanging over your farm. A foreboding feeling shivers through you, and you know he’s going to fulfill his promise today. You sigh and slide out of bed. “Let’s get this over with.”
You spend the morning doing your usual routine. Brushing teeth, washing your face, then dressing in farm work attire. Your breakfast consists of tea and your mothers homemade strawberry scone. Next is tending to the animals. Your mother usually takes care of the crops and gardening. It’s a quiet and early morning, as most are. The both of you keep to yourselves, just doing what needs to be done day by day. 
The sound of a car is heard coming down to the long dirt road and you know who it is by the sound. It’s a fancier vehicle than the one he left this property with years ago. A meaner part of you likes to think his greedy hands got into that mega church’s donations but you’re too self aware of the successful farm your family owns. 
Your father parks in front of the house and your mother is quick to rush over to him, presumably with many questions: How have you been? Are you hungry? Thirsty? What brings you here so early in the month? 
You roll your eyes at her desperation to cling onto the relationship that clearly ended when you were a child. 
You place a hand on your hip, leaning your weight to the side that isn’t carrying the heavy bucket of chicken feed. Walking away from the coops and back towards the shed by the house, you make eye contact with your father despite only taking a glance. 
He watches you with narrow eyes from the lowered window of the car he’s still sitting in, very much not listening to a word your mother is saying. 
He calls your name before you can open the shed. Spinning on the heels of your boots, you turn around with raised brows of questioning. 
He mouths the words sacrificial tree as he exits the car. Your mother sees this. She wears pained disappointment as she scurries away. Presumably to the barn where the sheeps and lambs are kept. She might as well be a sheep too, you think. 
The bucket slips from your fingers and drops to the patchy dirt grass by your feet with a thud, spilling over in a mess that will be cleaned later. 
You don’t bother giving him a nod of understanding. You just turn around and begin your walk to the tree line where the man made path is. Knowing it would take some time for his preparations, you walk to the lake that’s hidden behind the farmland. 
It’s a brief walk through your familiar woods. Once at the short wooden dock, you sit down at the end, taking in the gloomy summer scenery. A light fog hugs over the water. You bring your knees to your chest, in your sitting position, and hug yourself the same way. 
This is your favorite place out of all the land your family owns. It’s serene, mostly. Always quiet. You’re the only one who comes here. And it’s nice to swim with when the weather warrants it. There’s a feeling here that’s hard to feel anywhere else you find yourself. Sometimes you imagine what it would be like with someone else, but you doubt it would be as nice. Trouble has a way of following you, it seems. You frown at the thought. 
It’s silent like this for a few minutes, just you trying to find a sense of calmness before the impending chastisement. Then you hear some rustling of leaves, heavy footsteps following. You don’t turn around yet, you only wait for the call of your name. Your time of tranquility is too brief. You sigh before giving yourself a squeezing hug. 
“It’s time,” the reverend calls out loudly, “quickly now, we have new farmhands arriving soon.” The sound of his feet walking away is when you stand. You wave a goodbye to the foggy lake before parting ways. Your feet move unconsciously, taking to where your body knows to go. 
Leaves crinkle underneath your boots and twigs snap. The trees’ branches sway in the gentle morning breezes that pass. 
In the mix of the small forest, man made crosses of sticks or plywood are spaciously scattered. Like a graveyard to all your bad doings. Most small but one large. Old rotted wood that stands crooked and begging to fall over right next to the largest, strongest tree. Your eyes, that are trained to ground, move upwards the cross and then to the tree. Your father stands there with a large knife in hand. Your mother waits cautiously not too far away. Her demeanor is frightful as if this is the first time. Coward.
An old sheep hangs by its hind legs from a sturdy tree branch. Unmoving and defenseless. Big beady, dumb eyes look in all directions but you. You think it must feel the same guilt as yourself, sorry that its life purpose is to embarrass you, make you hate what you are. 
“God told me to make a sacrifice to prove my faith. He guides my hand in washing your soul clean of sin. So here I am with our blessed, dying lamb.” He’s said this every time. His voice is always miserably rehearsed and preacher-esque. 
You thought long ago that this was their, the lambs, only use on the farm. It’s a shame. All that devotion has made him so ugly and violent. 
You make small steps closer to the lamb. It’s whining in bleat baas and mehs. Does it know what’s happening? Is it scared? You like the lambs, sheeps. Pure white, soft, and docile. They never fight back. They just take it. I doubt they need restraints. You could hold them above me just the same and they’d never resist. 
“Move faster, for the love of God. Yeah, stand right there underneath like you know how to.” He instructs you, annoyed. His patience running thin as the distant sounds of a truck makes way down the dirt road to the farm property. 
“Okay
” You don’t fight him, with arms crossed behind your back and a hand squeezing around your own wrist, you move closer. Maybe you’re a lamb too. 
Maybe all your father really was is the executioner. 
He raises the knife as he begins to speak, it slides over its cotton, white throat but does not cut, “Revelation 7:13-17 Then he told me, ‘These are those who come from the great tribulation, and they’ve washed their robes, scrubbed them clean in the blood of the Lamb. That’s why they’re standing before God’s Throne. They serve him day and night in his Temple. The One on the Throne will pitch his tent there for them: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more scorching heat. The Lamb on the Throne will shepherd them, will lead them to spring waters of Life. And God will wipe every last tear from their eyes.’” He slits its throat in a quick, harsh movement. The blood spills just as fast, squirting spurts of red before it comes pouring down onto you. “Face up,” you obey even though it brings you rage, “it ought to cleanse those unholy thoughts I know that are still in there.” 
Head raised to the sky with eyes and mouth squeezed shut, you let it consume you. Warm, thick and wet washes down from your head onto your clothes then down to your feet. The smell of animal, metallic iron covers you. It’s sticking to your hair, eyebrows and lashes. You can already feel your clothes clinging to your skin in the dirtiest ways. 
You stand there, drenching in the its blood. Your father speaks again, firm and slow, “Say it with me now, ‘I know no punishment, only mercy.’” All you feel is the animal’s rain of life flooding you.
You open your mouth to speak but are quick to spit and cough out the blood that manages to get into your mouth. Smack. 
“I don’t have time for this,” his voice sounds like an echo, your head is ringing from the harsh swing of his hand. The skin of your cheek stings. He hits like a bitch, you think. “Say it with me now, dammit!” You can feel him wipe his bloodied hand on the side of your shirt. 
You step back from under the red shower. “I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your words align with his in the perfect paced harmony you’re trained to do so. Enunciated, slow and strong, through gritted teeth.
There’s a beat of silence before the sound of your parents footsteps walking away. 
Standing there in red, yet to open your eyes, you breathe out a shaky sigh of defeat. It sounds more like a growl. With the mostly clean hands you kept safely behind you, you bring them up to wipe the blood from your face. You don’t dare to look at the dead animal in front of you. Being covered in it is enough alone to make you feel sick. 
You think of going back to the lake, jumping in and letting the blood wash off you there, but knowing you’d either walk back with further drenched clothes or naked didn’t seem like options you wanted to deal with either. So you just head back to the house. It’s a slower walk than need be, but you just felt like avoiding the eyes of the newcomers, hoping they’d be off in the fields or in a barn by the time you walk through. You feel numb. 
You’re wrong though, by the time you’re passing the barns and coops, the group of new farmhands are already lined up outside the horses’ stable. Your mother is talking to them, although not all are paying attention. Only a few pairs of wide eyes follow you. Catching the sight of you must really shock them but you can’t blame them. Something about this makes you excited. You stop in your tracks and look around to see if your father’s car is gone. It is. The realization feels like a wave of relief and it suddenly feels brighter outside already. 
You take a glance down to your disheveled appearance. Shirt, pants, and boots painted like the barns. You look back to the group, brushing the soiled hair back from your face. Some pieces stay stuck, in the early stages of drying against your skin.
It’s safe to have a little fun. 
You begin a slow walk over to the group. You take a headcount and there’s five of them. Two younger men, closer to your age. The other three look a bit older, not by much but definitely older. Your mother is yet to turn around from whatever rundown she’s giving them. Too dense to even recognize that now none of them were paying any attention to her. 
You creep up beside her and open with, “Hello,” your voice is louder than even you’ve heard it be in a long time. It’s nice to be heard, noticed. You usually avoided the farmhands, but this summer was going to be different. You decided this on the walk over. 
Being cooped up on the farm for so long made you different, it’s obvious to anybody. Not properly socialized in your developmental years caused you to be an anomaly to the ones who did come across you. Enigmatic from far away and up close. Now isn’t the greatest example though, the situation is too clear as to why. 
Your mother turns to you, gasping and jumping back slightly in the shock of your gross state and sudden introduction. “My goodness, girl, whatta ya doin’ here like this?” Her voice is hushed, clearly unsettled with the situation. 
They all just stare at you, open mouthed and bewildered. You take the time to get a good look at each of them up close. Your eyes follow their faces individually down the line. And then they stop. 
At the end of the line is a man more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in the movies. You feel stuck in time, left with parted lips, staring at the man before you. And far too intently for your character. He stands tall, sharp, pale, and elegant. What is a boy like this doing here? He averts his eyes from you, clearly uncomfortable by what’s before him. He looks uneasy, shifting his weight foot to foot with his hands behind his back. His pretty eyes glance around from you to your mother to the other men and the ground. He simply doesn’t know what to do with himself. You find it dangerously darling of him. 
You don’t even realize the small smile that takes your lips. You step closer to him and he steps back, now looking at you with wide eyes of small fear. You extend your hand to him, it’s coated in drying blood. He gulps and the sight, his adam’s apple bobbing in such a biteable neck stirs something in you. This will be far more fun than you intended. 
You say your name softly for introduction and step a little closer, “Nice to meet you," you feign cuteness as much as you can, looking up at him through your blood clumped lashes. It’s clear to everyone there is something off; there’s little to no real emotion behind your voice and face. 
Your mother eyes you suspiciously as you corner the handsome man, but she says nothing. Sometimes she fears you too. 
He looks from your eyes to your hand, having an internal battle with himself on what to do, “Ah, I am Sunghoon... Nice to meet you too.” His politeness must be stronger than his frighteness, because he takes his hand in yours and shakes it gently. His hand is large in yours, nearly covering it entirely. You squeeze it hard, your eyes never leaving his, trapping him in the scene. 
He wants to look away, to hide somewhere. The way his skin crawls tells him he’s a prey already in the mouth of a predator. And you know he’s nervous under your intense gaze because your hand feels like a lamb is still bleeding above you. His palms are sweating, and it’s nowhere near hot enough for that yet. Your smile grows to a smirk. 
Although you’re wearing the lamb, having Sunghoon’s hand in yours made you feel like a wolf. 
 Sunghoon’s first day of his summer job starts off duller than he imagined. The sun isn’t out this morning and it only intensifies his anxiousness, as if the grey skies reflect his inner emotions. He’s already new to the area, away from home and staying in an apartment not far from his college in the city. A private, christian school that he studied hard to get into with his friend. He wishes his best friend and roommate, Jake, was joining him in this job, but Jake already had plans to teach at a summer soccer camp for kids through their school. 
He found this opportunity through the college church they attend together. A reverend from another church in the city came to visit one Sunday, handing out flyers to the young men in hopes of finding farm help. The pay is good and the bus fairs to the small town over where the farm’s located is covered. He’s never done work like it before, nevertheless was he going to let a simple offer pass him up. 
Things are going smoothly to start, being told how to care for, clean, and feed the animals to crop preservation. Everyone would have their own specific roles on the farm. Sunghoon was assigned the easier of the tasks, either feeding animals or watering and fertilizing the vegetables and fruits crops. He learns there are already regular farm workers that would come throughout the week to collect produce, material, and use the machinery for the more laborious work. And if she wasn't around when needed then they could ask any of the regular employees for assistance or find her at the house. 
As the farm owner is about to give details on the horses’ maintenance, a girl saunters in. And the anxious feelings become of Sunghoon all over again. His eyes are wide, taking in her appearance. The smell of the farm dissipates and putrid copper takes over. The worst part is how calm she appears, and the fact that she’s unbothered with all that she wears. 
He thinks his brain short circuits, everything seeming muffled and unreal. He doesn’t even realize he introduced himself or touched her. It all was too quick and unfamiliar for him to grasp. 
He watches as she walks away, back to the house that sits slightly over the hills and valleys of the property. His expression is blank, blinking slowly at the strange girl then down to his hand that’s stained red too. 
“Don’t pay her no mind,” the woman speaks up, she sounds as if she’s warning them. “Just get yer work done and when everyone’s finished y’all can head back home. I won’t ask too much of ya in yer first month here, alright? That might be a different story later.” She tries to end the statements in humor with her forced laugh. 
Sunghoon nods but his eyes don’t leave his dirty hand. The other men nod along too and give their ‘yes, ma’ams’ in return. 
The woman continues walking them around the farm, listing rules and guidelines they must follow, along with advice and tips for the work they’ll be doing. 
The day flows as easy as it can for Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much with the other farmhands. He also doesn’t know them well enough to be comfortable in their conversations, so he just exists in awkward silence, sometimes reacting. While they can joke around and find fun in the work, his mind keeps wandering off to the girl from earlier, to you. How your empty eyes held onto his and small hand even tighter. He thinks the palm of his hand still burns from the interaction. 
Around the afternoon time, Sunghoon and the guys are sitting around a picnic table near the house. The sun is beating down on them all now while they chug down water and eat their lunch. The owner was kind enough to provide their refreshments and meals. They were all thankful. 
She adds that there’s a small lodge up the dirt road. It’s a little old but homey and has space with two spare bedrooms if they need to wash up or rest at any time. It was originally built for the farm workers that worked late and needed a place to stay if need be. 
Once done, the boys stand up and talk about what they have left to do. The next bus back to the city isn’t running for another two hours so they speak of taking some leisure time and exploring the farm property. Meanwhile Sunghoon is still sitting, watching them huddled in conversation. He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as they begin walking towards the fields.
Sunghoon, taking what the farm owner had mentioned previously, decides that he’d like to stay inside to get away from the beating sun for a while. So he gathers his trash to throw away in the bin by the road near the house’s mailbox and begins his walk to the lodge. 
Once inside he takes in the rustic, outdated furniture. It’s a little dusty and the floorboards creak beneath his feet but he finds it somewhat comforting. The living space has two couches by an old stone fireplace, a center table with board games and cards, a kitchenette, and a large dining table with enough space to seat six people. 
The decor is very farmers-life-esque. From a cow print rug in the small kitchen area to the antlers mounted on the wall near the dining table. There’s scenic southern paintings hung up along with antique crosses and prints of bible verses, all adoring the faded and peeling floral wallpaper. Above the fireplace hangs a painting depicting Jesus healing a blind man. 
He walks down the only short hall in the lodge to find the two spare bedrooms the woman had mentioned along with a bathroom. He takes this time to wash his hands thoroughly and splash some cold water on his face. With his hands resting on the sink, he stares at himself in the mirror. The cold drops of water slip down his face, jaw, and back into the sink. 
In his mind he’s questioning whether or not he’s sure of this job. It’s all too different from what he knows and he can’t help but feel out of place here. With a sigh, he drops his head and watches the water slip down the sink. 
He jumps slightly at the sudden sound of the front door opening and closing, not expecting the others to join him here quite yet. No noise follows the action for a moment, not even footsteps. Then there’s the sound of a click, like the door is being locked. He straightens his posture and peaks out the bathroom door, listening for their voices or any sound other than silence. It offers nothing to him so he begins to feel tense. 
“Hello?” Sunghoon calls out skittishly, but there’s no response. His heart rate picks up a little and he starts to think the boys are trying to pull some sort of childish prank on him. He leaves the room and makes slow steps down the hallway to the main area of the lodging house. 
As he rounds the corner he doesn’t find any of the boys there though, he just sees you. His heart jumps at the realization. Sitting on the couch, in overall shorts and nothing else. Bare legs crossed and hands against the couch by your sides as you watch him peer around the corner with apprehension. You’re  just sitting there, leaning forward and waiting for him to come find you. 
Cowardly, Sunghoon makes a half turn. He presses his back against the wall of the hallway as if he could hide away or disappear into it. He even closes his eyes, thinking of a quick prayer to save him from this circumstance. 
“Are you pretending to be shy or are you really this cute?” Your voice is teasing, and he can hear the wicked smile in it without seeing. 
Feeling caught, he just sighs and slowly makes his way to the living area. He tries not to look at you, thinking you are too revealing. So he looks everywhere else and then to large windows that give view to the farm; none of the guys are in sight. Most likely somewhere goofing off. All he can see is the fields and farm buildings standing large in the distance. 
He doesn’t move and speaks softly, “I should probably go find the others-”
You speak before he can finish his attempt of an excuse, “Come sit with me.” You pat the space on the couch next to yourself. Your voice sounds welcoming but he knows there’s an undertone of mischief. 
He makes a quick glance to you and sucks in a breath at the view of your body that’s exposed from your overalls. The glimpse of the curve of your breast disappearing under the denim already makes him feel like he’s seen too much of you. And he has. He’s never seen such bare skin on a girl and he’s never been alone in a room with one either. 
“Come sit with me, now.” You’re more stern this time, demanding in a gentle way. Your hand makes small movements, soothing over the material of the couch like you’re warming the space for him. 
He visibly swallows as he makes his hesitant steps over to you. His heart is racing and with every beat there is a question of his strength. He sits down on the same sofa but not directly next to you like you want. You smirk nonetheless and turn to face him, sitting with your legs criss-cross now. 
With your elbows to your knees you hold your head in your hands, watching the side of his face. You’re again realizing how sculpted his features are. Dark thick hair on his head, eyebrows and lashes too. An array of moles sprinkle his pale face. A sharp nose that sits above pink, full lips. You wonder if he knows of his own beauty. It’s fascinating to see such a person like him in front of you. 
He’s sitting with perfect posture, not relaxing into the couch. Alert like a deer that’s waiting for too sudden of movement to pounce away. His eyes just watch the table, reading through the names of the board games that lay there as a way of distracting himself. He’s awkward. 
“Uhm
 d-does your family own this farm?” he tries for small talk to break the silence. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he makes one quick look over to you. Luckily your overalls sit high up or he’d have a full view of your chest. He can’t help but think of the fact and it makes him shift uncomfortably. 
“Do I make you nervous?” you question, seriously so. Brows pulled tight in a furrow with a straight face. You lean in even closer to him, watching for every change on his face. 
“Yes,” his response is honestly quick and ends with a tight lip, like he’s holding his breath. He is yet to comprehend what is happening, still in a whirlwind of thoughts of what could—will—happen. 
“Why?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, it makes him think of his roommate briefly. And man does he wish he were here to ease the tension. 
He doesn’t want to admit that he’s never been in such close proximity with a girl alone before, so he just clears his throat and remains quiet after doing so. 
Curiously, you bring a hand up with a pointed finger and brush the tip of it over the mole on the side of his nose. He jolts back at the sudden touch, his cheeks flushing a warm pink. His eyes now watch you with gentle confusion. He touches the same spot you did with a trembling hand. 
“You have a constellation on your face. So many moles
 Do you have a girlfriend?” 
His face burns a little more, both from the observation and the question. He shakes his head, sitting himself further into the couch and further away from you. He can’t quite understand the situation. Are you messing with him? You seem too serious for such. Maybe you’re just weird like he initially thought. Either way he can feel his faith slipping; he is cupping holy water in hands during an earthquake. 
“Did I do somethin’ wrong? Am I not pretty?” You pout to be playful with him, acting as if his actions are offending you. He takes it literally though. 
“No!” his hands rest on his knees and he holds them hard, trying to find stability despite sitting down. “Y-you are
 pretty,” his words grow quieter, like he’s sharing a secret. “I just don’t know you or why you want to talk to me.” 
“Hm.” You lean your head back against the couch. With your eyes still on his face, you speak just as quietly, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.” After some beats of muted air you speak up again, but with more presence, “You came to work here. Why?” 
“A man was handing out flyer ads at the church. I wanted a summer job.” 
Is he always this direct and boring? And church, of fucking course. You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the back cushion and even closer to the man. Your knees touch the side of his body and his thigh. He looks like he’s trying to control his breathing, to feign lack of disturbance, but his face says everything you need to know. 
You place a hand on his thigh and his whole body stiffens at the action. Your smirk to yourself. It’s only resting there on the top of his jeans. “You act like a girl has never touched you before.” You give him a soft squeeze and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Well? Has a girl ever touched you?” 
He shakes his head quickly, “No,” he breaks, feeling overwhelmed and wrong, “and I don’t think you should be. It’s against the churches values-”
“At your age you still follow the rules?” Your hand slides lower and back up his thigh, it’s a slow and teasing motion. There’s enjoyment in how scared he’s becoming. 
Sunghoon knows that this is only going to lead him down a path he swore to God not to take. And if his parents were to know that in his first year away from home in the summer since college was locked in a lodge with a promiscuous girl he’d have it handed to him. The thought of their wrath makes him shiver all the more. 
“I just don’t want to sin.” His eyes close and he bites down onto his lip again. He no longer cares if a stranger sees him as a loser or prude. His virtue is being tested in real time, and he’s feared facing this battle many times in the night because even in his dreams he loses. 
“I’m only touching you. How is it a sin?” The tone of your voice changes, it’s soft like the hand that moves closer to in between his thighs. Your fingertips press into his clothed skin here and there, curiously feeling him up. You just try to get a reaction out of him. There’s a warm feeling in your stomach that you don’t recognize; it’s faintly familiar. 
“Your hand isn’t supposed to be
 there.” He makes a strained sound, something like a low whine, as your hand ghosts over his cock. 
You look down to your movements for the first time and realize he’s sporting a half chub. You snicker quietly, cupping him in your palm. “Then why are you getting hard, Sunghoon? Do you like the way I’m touching you? I bet you’ve thought about doing this before too.” 
He makes another noise, a whimper. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes and accept what’s happening. He also can’t find it in himself to stop you, or get up and leave. This wasn’t just a struggle with evil’s temptation but his own biological nature. Something yet to be explored, something that’s been scratching at his ribcage for years to be fed. 
There’s too much he can’t admit in this moment. Starting with how he enjoys the sound of your voice, the slight accent and dialect difference he picks up. How the way his name leaves your lips makes him want to crumble like a burning church. And how he silently likes the fact he can’t control the way his body is reacting to your hands on him. 
It’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. And he is weak.
“Answer me, Sunghoon.” Your hand presses down on him, feeling the growing hardness under your palm. You give him a small squeeze, massaging over the bulge. To your surprise he feels big. Your eyebrows quirk at this and then you look back to his face. A single tear runs down his face and you find satisfaction in it. “Lying is a sin too,” you remind him. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hands fist the couch cushions at his sides. He grips the material so tight that his knuckles turn pink through the pale of his skin. His chest rises and falls through slow and deep breaths. 
“You shouldn’t feel sorry for something that makes you feel good.” You palm over him a few more times, drawing out little moans and whimpers from him. He’s struggling to sit still. You can even feel him try not to push his hips back up into you; if only he would admit that he wants it. He’s practically pulsing beneath you, like there’s never been such a rush of blood to his cock in his life. You sigh dramatically and pull your hand away from him, sitting back to give him space. “That’s too bad. A good dog will always be loyal, huh?”
His eyes shoot open when he feels your hand is gone. He looks at you desperately with wet eyes, a small pout to his lips. You make him feel sick for wanting to ask why you stopped, or if he did something bad for you to take away his short-lived pleasure. 
You smirk at his expression, so pitifully beautiful with want. “Have you ever touched yourself?” you ask, placing your hand over his that hasn’t let go of the couch. It takes you back when he flips his hand around to hold onto yours, clingy and wretched. His thumb brushes over your knuckles. Repulsed, you react quickly and take your hand away from him at his impulsive intimacy. It makes him frown with a meek whimper. 
He shakes his head slowly, looking down to his lap. “I can’t.” He knows he’s not allowed to. His father was adamant through his puberty that he mustn’t succumb to his body’s natural taste for sin. He was told that sometimes the devil had a funny way of sneaking into a man’s mind. That Satan would haunt boys in their sleep to wake them up with guilt of uncontrollable lust to be like him. 
“But you like when I do it, right?” You rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. His eyes look from your face to the thin opening of your overalls where your chest can be seen from the angle. He bites down hard and nods slowly. You coo, moving your hand back to his still hard, clothed cock. “I can make it go away if you want. You want that?” 
He’s battling all the repressed things he’s been too afraid to explore; fearful of the swing of his parents belt he felt once long ago after being caught in a misunderstanding. In spite of it, he nods again. “It hurts.. Please, help me.” His voice is so quiet. Even he doesn’t want to hear his own pathetic begging. 
Your fingers find the zipper of his jeans then you tug it down slowly as you stare at him. “You have to pull them down for me, okay? I can’t help you with just this.”
Sunghoon freezes for a second knowing he has control over being the one to take out his own cock. Yet apprehension leaves in a breath. Then he’s pulling the clothing down to his knees with frantic haste. You didn’t expect him to take everything off so fast but there’s a sense of pride in how eager you’ve made him become in such a short time. 
You weren’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. His cock is as beautiful as him. Pale and raging pink, crying at the tip much like his eyes. He’s also big, bigger than you knew dicks could be. You thought they’d be ugly, gross and worm-like. But his is clean and pretty. It’s your first time seeing one in person; you wouldn’t let him know that. 
You take him bare in your hands, feeling him like a foreign object. More curious of his body than in his pleasure in the moment. His body tenses then relaxes against the couch. A shaky, breathy moan leaves his lips. His eyes flutter at the contact of skin. 
You squeeze him, making his moan weakly again. It’s heavy in your hand. Truly just a stick of warm flesh. A part of you wants to squeeze him as hard as you can just to see if it can break, but you withhold on hurting him for now. Not wanting to scare him too much in hopes of exploring him further through the summer. 
Your hand wraps around the length as much as it can, pads of fingertips brushing over every vein and curve as you slowly move your hand up and down. When your thumb circles around his tip and flicks the leaking hole, his body lurches forward with a loud cry of a moan from him. You wonder if he’ll cum in the next few seconds of simply touching him. 
“I think you’re a slut for a little pleasure, Sunghoon.” You use your palm to gather his precum, circling over the tip to smear the thick cream around. Then you drag it back down himself, wetting his cock in his own prerelease. It slides easier now, your hand. You move faster, jerking him off in lazy, inexperienced motions. Not that he would know anyways. “You gave into lust so easily, didn’t you? Must’ve wanted this for so long. Your body’s nasty, eager for it.”
In his ears, you make the nasty words sound delicious. And he wants to devour more and more, like the starved man he is. His hips snap up into your hard, sudden and rough. You wrap your free arm over his shoulders, a hand sneaking up into his hair to tug aggressively on the thick dark locks. You’re pulling his head back, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be a whore. I’m helping you. I didn’t say fuck my hand.” 
“Ahsh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry
” he whines, tears burning his eyes, “it, it f-feels good. I feel so good.” His head falls to lean against yours, face burying into your hair. His head makes little shakes as he begins to cry, telling himself no, no. 
“Shut up...” You don’t like how close he is to you. You only like doing so to tease him, but when he does it, it makes you feel a fiery anger in your chest and belly. Uncomfortable. Smothering.
Your hand works in sloppy motions. Pumping his pulsing cock to reach his orgasm. At the tip your wrist makes flicks with your thumb, working him up further and further. 
He stutters out incoherent apologies into your hair throughout his sobs of wanton, whimpering moans. Everything about his body is sensitive to the new sensations. He can’t help but move his hips up into your hand, humping the small fist that’s fucking down onto him. 
Confused by the warm, tight feeling flexing of his abdomen he whines against you, “I can’t- I can’t take it. My body feels weird now. Mmph, ‘m sorry. I don’t know what’s h-happening.” His body feels volcanic, ready to burst. 
You continue your movements, jerking his reflexing length until he’s cumming into your hand. It’s a heavy load of thick, creamy mess. His voice is too close to your ear as he moans a drawn out needy sound. Your face remains plain while you pump him until he’s milked dry. His body flinches and curls into yours through the aftershocks, clearly overstimulated and over-sensitive. His arms snake around your waist to pull you against him.  
You stare down at your hand that was earlier covered in the blood of a lamb and now the cum of a virgin. It looks like fucking snot, you realize with repulse. Without thinking you bring your hand up and lick the strange release. Your face scowls at the unknown taste so you just wipe the rest on your overalls. “You are disgusting,” you mutter. 
Sunghoon remains silent aside from his sniffles, eyes peeking through his bangs to watch what you’re doing. He still hasn’t stopped clinging to your side, as if you could save him from his first lustful sin. 
You push yourself up and off the couch, his body slightly falls to the side where he was leaning on you but he catches himself. He watches you with sad, scared eyes. You stare blankly in return then look out the window to see the group of men walking around the picnic table they ate at earlier. 
“Farmhands will be leaving soon. Clean yourself up in the bathroom.” You don’t spare him another look, you just walk to the front door, unlock it, and leave. You ignore the way he looked like a sad abandoned puppy. Something about it angered you in the same way he was being clingy. 
You walk back to your house with a slight skip to your steps. As you step through your front door, you’re about to head upstairs to your room but stop in your tracks because your mother speaks.
“Hate him all ya want,” your mothers words slur, she speaks slowly and tired-like, “but he was a good man. He used to love me
 And then you came along.” You turn to the living room on your left where your mother lays on the couch, wine glass in hand and eyes heavy lidded. “I know what yer capable of. I’ve seen the things ya do on this farm, in this home.. When ya think no one is watching.. He just might be right about you.” You glare at her now. “There is something evil in ya, child. Leave that boy outta yer wickedness.” 
Her wine glass falls to the floor from her fingers and she groans, turning to her side. You stare at her for a moment before walking up to your room. 
Meanwhile Sunghoon spends his next 20 minutes in a spiral of guilt and shame. He cleans himself up in the restroom like you told him to. Then waits, watching outside the window for when the boys are gathered around the truck they drove in from the bus stop to leave in. It was hard for him to get the tears to end. He fell right into sin’s lustful trap and it made him feel so- No, it only made him feel hurt. Stupid. Bad. 
On his bus ride back into the city he prays. Sitting in back, alone with his indignity, and head bowed low so no one could see his red rimmed, glossy eyes. Time goes by so fast that he nearly misses his stop to get off. 
He ignores his roommate when he’s home. Jake, excited and curious of Sunghoon’s first day, is left cold. Sunghoon showers for longer than usual. He scrubs so harshly at his skin he turns red; unable to feel clean no matter how much he washes. He doesn’t eat dinner because he feels he doesn’t deserve to. He gets into bed earlier than most days too. He tries to sleep but the day haunts him, keeping him awake. 
He’s up all night in tears, face in his pillow with the blanket thrown over his head, trying to hide from He who watches. The begs of forgiveness seem endless. 
“Dear God,” he whimpers, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He doesn’t sleep much that night because he can’t find it in himself to stop humping into his mattress in hopes to chase and achieve the feeling you gave him earlier. His hips rock his aching hard cock into the bed, anguished yet titillated. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me. I’m so sorry.” He continues to cry, drowning in his pillow, knowing he will do it again. 
 The next day on the farm is an early morning for everyone. Sunghoon sits quietly in the truck with the other summer volunteer farmharms. They talk amongst each other about the day’s schedule of duties and tasks. He struggles to keep his eyes open, head leaning against the window despite its bumps from the uneven dirt road. He thought about calling it quits on the whole job after yesterday, but couldn’t bring himself to. It’s for selfish reasons too. The ones that deepen his guilt. 
The arrival to the farm is quicker than anticipated. Sunghoon forces himself to be more alert and awake, starting to pick up on the conversations between the others as he exits the parked truck. 
“Do you think it’s still hanging there?” One says. “The lamb of slaughter?” Another dumbly asks with a snort. “Well yeah, dipshit. You guys think that girl did it? She was weird as hell.” A third voice chimes in, “Being covered in blood and then leaving a dead animal hanging from a tree is creepy as fuck. The lady was right, stay the hell away from her.” He laughs. The others walk away in continuous chatter, leaving Sunghoon by the truck. 
Sunghoon is confused by this conversation and deeply disturbed. He doesn’t follow or press them with questions though. But it will give him much to think about for the day. He’s so exhausted from the lack of sleep, he wonders if he even heard them all correctly at all. Yeah, your whole introduction was strange but killing an animal and acting like nothing happened and then toying with him on the same day? Was all that really something a girl like you would do? He can’t say for sure because he doesn’t know you. 
He goes about his morning tasks lazily. His mind is too busy with the thoughts of you. He thinks of when or if he’ll see you today. You haven’t shown around the farm all day. It’s only an hour before noon, he tries to rationalize with himself. He still ponders throughout his work. What time will you come? Will you mysteriously show up like yesterday? Will you touch him again? Will you let him feel good? Is he forgivable or going to burn in hell for wanting more?
He shakes his head to rid it of the thoughts. Perhaps he’s too hopeful. After lunch time he goes back to the farmers lodge to take a nap. At least that’s the realistic excuse he used. He struggles to even fall asleep because he’s so anxious about listening for any sound of you possibly coming back here. 
His eyes, sullen and tired, just can’t stay open after half an hour of waiting. So eventually he does fall asleep. You never show up. When he wakes up from his long needed nap he somehow feels worse knowing you didn’t visit than he did committing his first sin. 
The following day of work is a repeat. He doesn’t see you at all yet you occupy all of his thoughts. He thinks badly of himself for many reasons. 
 On the fourth day, you finally decide it’s time to check up on the poor boy. You watched Sunghoon mope around the farm for two days and it was cute at first but you’re getting bored again. You did like how his eyes were always searching around, hopeful that every sound he heard from behind or around corners was you. Knowing you had such an effect on him made you wonder how much more you could do to him. 
From the window of your room, you watch when they all arrive. Your mother greets them like she does in the mornings and gives them all tasks that need to be completed for the day. It’s Thursday which means she’ll be out for a few hours to go into town and sort out business for products: cow and goat milk processing for cheeses and soaps. At least you assume considering you overheard her phone call about such the day prior. 
You spend the morning around the house, reading and snacking on fruits, waiting for your mother to leave so you can proceed with your plan. There was some effort into your appearance today. You wear a spaghetti strapped white babydoll dress, lined at the bottom with sewn embroideries. It’s simple and flows nicely above your knees when you walk. You hate it because it alludes to soft purity but at least it feels good to dress light in the summer heat. And it might make you all the more approachable to feeble Sunghoon. 
After about an hour, your mother finally leaves. You give it about 10 minutes before you’re shoving on your boots and leaving the house. Some of the blood from earlier in the week still stains the brown leather; you did clean them off but clearly not to the best extent. You’re okay with that though, it seems prettier this way to you. 
Looking and walking around the property, you see the scattered farmhands busy with different things. The sun isn’t kind today, it’s piercing in brightness and temperature. The sweat begins to seep from your pores in a matter of minutes, making you feel sticky. You run a hand through your tangled hair, fingers getting caught in unbrushed knots that you yank through anyways. You don’t see Sunghoon anywhere that’s directly under the sun. You continue to search around the farm, gaining a few cautious looks from the other workers. As you walk past their gazes you wear a wry smile with a tilt to your head. They look away quickly after being caught staring. 
Some wandering in and out of the different barns and coops are done. He wasn’t in any of them though.  You greet the animals you pass by and give pats to some of the cows. “Have you guys seen him nearby? I’m not a fan of hide and seek.” You mumble to one of the goats, scratching lightly beneath its chin while it chews away at grains and hay. It maas in return. You pull your hand back out from the stable then leave to continue the manhunt. 
It’s when you’re walking by the horses’ stables that you see they’ve already been cared for, telling you that someone was here already. You glance to the smaller shed nearby, having a suspicious inkling that it's where Sunghoon is. You walk to the shed and see yourself inside. And he is. He has his back turned to you, standing at a work bench table and cleaning something off. 
You walk up behind him, the sound of your footsteps being dulled by the scattered hay on the wooden floors; he doesn’t notice that you entered the space, clearly lost in his own thoughts. You tap his shoulder which makes him spin around in surprise, dropping the brushes he was cleaning. 
Sunghoon’s eyes are wide at the sight of you standing so close to him. You can tell he’s lost sleep by the dark circles around his eyes and how his complexion is impossibly paler. His mouth is stuttering to find words, opening and closing. 
You step closer to him and he steps back, his backside now pressing against the table. It wobbles on the uneven wooden stilts that hold it up. Reflexively, his hands reach back to hold onto the table, but he’s using it for his own stability. You simply stand there in between his legs, staring up at his face and taking in all the details that differ from the last time you saw him. He swallows, quietly watching your face in return. 
“I haven’t seen you around.” Sunghoon speaks first, his voice a soft surrender. You feel his breath on your face. 
“I know. I saw you though. You missed me.” You state bluntly, taking note of the little fangs he has for teeth. He probably bites good, you think, licking the back of your own teeth. 
“If you saw me then why didn’t you
” he trails off into a quiet again, closing his eyes for a moment with a sigh. “I wouldn’t call it that.” His eyes open again as he feels your hands on his chest, sliding up his white tank and underneath the sleeves of his denim jacket to his shoulders. He bites down, suddenly stiff. 
Ignoring his response you continue, “How can you wear this when it’s so warm out?” Your hands slide over his shoulders and down his toned arms, the jacket slips down to reveal the toned limbs. Your eyebrows raise at the sight yet your face remains relatively blank. “You’ve got muscle. Good for farm work.” Small hands continue to run over the smooth milk-like skin, learning every curve of his lean built physique. It’s not sexual, just exploratory. 
Sunghoon sucks in a breath, watching you inspect him. He begins to feel flustered, relishing in the contact of skin on his. You notice his tense body and ask him if it’s okay, to which replies a raspy stutter, “Y-yeah.” Your hands slide down his arms and back up to his shoulders. Then down his chest and body to stop at the waistline of his jeans. He has a nice body; he must be athletic. You don’t care to ask in what ways. Your fingers dip into his jeans just slightly to pull him in closer to you, he gasps, his growing cock pressing against your stomach. 
“Sunghoon,” You ridicule him, tsking under your breath at the pressure you feel of his arousal. “Already?” You look up at him but he can’t meet your eyes, feeling embarrassed. You play with the waistline, your fingertips running back and forth between the denim and his skin. “Is this sinning?” It’s a soft question yet mocking. He only shakes his head, nervously gnawing at his bottom lip. “Do you want to?” He whimpers, slowly nodding his head. You take your hands off him, crossing your arms. “You have to tell me. Look at me and tell me.” 
He looks back at you dispirited. He knows that you know what he wants. And here you are making him admit it outloud, both to you and God. “Please.” He begs quietly, hoping it only reaches your ears and not the sky’s. “I want you.” 
There’s that feeling again. The lit match that falls from your throat to the gasoline of your stomach that erupts in flames. Fire to your abdomen and loins; it’s an angry feeling, sparked by his honest admit of want, and for you specifically. You watch him with narrowed eyes while mumbling, “you revolt me.” 
He doesn’t reply to your venomous insult. It stings to hear the degrading words in both his heart and pants; he thinks himself disgraceful too. 
You drop to your knees, hands finding place back on his jeans to undo his zipper. He stares down at you in bated breath, hands still gripping tight on the table behind him. His are pulled down slowly, purposely so. You watch him writher, body and face. “Did you do it again?” you question, looking up at him from below. He would never avow to how the sight of you on your knees alone makes him ache all the more. 
He wants to tear his eyes away from you but he can’t. The image of you in your white dress on the ground before him needs to be burned into his memory. He stutters a mumble of words but you don’t catch anything, if he even said a coherent response at all. You ask again, pinching his thigh. He tries to hum over the strained noise in the back of his throat, “Yes.. I mean no! B-but I didn’t touch myself.”
You try not to giggle, biting the inside of your cheek. Knowing he wanted to feel that way again but couldn’t on his own gave you a funny sense of power over him. One of your hands traces the outline of his hard cock through his boxer briefs. “You make a mess?” He shivers at the feeling of your breath on his suffocating length. He breathes out a ‘no’ while you lick a strip over the material. “Why not? I showed you how.”
He moans softly, trying not to let his hips chase after the feeling that he’s been after for days. “You know I can’t,” he exhales. You roll your eyes, mouthing and licking at him languidly. Your hands are still half tugging at the material that keeps him hidden. A faint pool of precum quickly stains his boxers. 
“Sunghoon,” you look up at him with your chin resting on the bulge. He swallows hard, acknowledging you with a hum. “You will never be free from it. The sin I let you taste will forever linger on the tip of your tongue, begging and licking to taste more in crave. No holy blessed water can possibly cleanse you even if you drown in it.” 
His bottom lip pouts out with a little droning whine. He should defend himself, say that his faith is stronger than he is and that his soul is saveable by mercy. But a part of him also feels that doesn’t want to be. His eyes begin to well with tears. 
“Not even a god could make you pure again,” you give him a small smile and pat his naked thigh before pulling down his underwear. His cock now free slaps his stomach to which he breathes out heavily. You grab him with both hands, giving him one last look before taking the leaking head into your mouth. Hands working on him steadily. 
“T-that’s dirty!” he leans forward with a low sounding moan, his hands on your head and in your hair. Your eyes go wide at this. “Why would you put that in your mouth?!” he gasps, the warm wetness around his tip making him dizzy. “This is so vulgar, oh God, forgive me.” he cries, not pulling your mouth off of him but holding you there. 
You circle your tongue around the tip and over his leaking slit, licking the beads of precum that leak out. It makes your grimace before you lean back, a wet pop as your mouth leaves. “Enough of your penitence, and take your hands off me.” It sounds like a warning to which he complies without question, only a hushed apology. He’s the one who wants to be touched anyways, not you. 
You take him into your mouth again, your lips wrap around him in a painful stretch to accommodate his size. He sits heavy on your tongue that lays flat underneath, doing what you can with it. Your hands at the base work around him, jerking and squeezing him like you did before. You weren’t really sure what you were doing, mainly just mocking the actions you read about in books. It seems to be working for Sunghoon regardless because he can barely hold himself together. Whining and whimpering through fat tears, whole body shuddering from the overwhelming wet heat of your mouth. 
His jaw goes slack, mouth hung open only to elicit a breathless moan. His head rolls back on his neck and his eyes flutter to a close. The feeling of your mouth wrapping around him is hot heaven. His body trembles with the new, sweeping sensation. Stomach already tight with contracting muscles. He thinks he could pass out. 
Watching his face, him, discover and feel pleasurable sin is slightly euphoric to you. You’ve seen it in movies and read of it in books, but it was something you never quite fully explored yourself. There’s been a few instances that you did touch yourself; it always felt empty or like something was always missing. There’s little to no excitement when doing it alone in shameful hiding. Witnessing, causing such debauchery is different somehow. Safer in ways you didn’t dwell in thought on. You do wish he would stop crying about it, you find it pathetic of him in a provoked way. 
Involuntarily, he thrusts himself down your throat with a guttural groan. You gag and cough around him, tears sting your eyes that make you squeeze them shut—refusing to let a single one dare to escape. Now it felt like a challenge. One to which you wouldn’t back down in fear of looking weak. 
Your hands hold his thighs roughly, bruisingly so if you had the strength. You move his body in a small back and forth motion, encouraging him to continue his movements. You’re looking up at him with glazed over eyes and a slight nod. He chokes a sob at the sight, you on your knees not to pray but to devour him.
“Ah, I- I’m sorry. Your mouth is so wet, so warm.” He starts off with shallow thrusts, dragging his cock along your wet muscle. His hips stutter while his world seems to be crashing down. “This is so dirty. You look so dirty. And—ngh—it’s.. it’s so good. It’s so good,” he babbles, pushing himself as far down into your mouth as he can. His tip kisses the back of your throat making you gag around him. Your nails digging into the flesh of his strong legs. He can’t stop moaning and whimpering, becoming a slave to pleasure. 
He watches your face. Hollowed cheeks sucking and swallowing around him, the tightness of your throat around him hugging and contracting through chokes that reverberate your body to his cock. The spit that leaks from your lips and all over him is obscene, such a sinful mess. He so badly wants to grab your head and force himself down further, but his nails dig into the wood of the table instead. 
“Hm, I can’t—” he moans your name, thrusting rougher now. His whole body crumbling in on itself, chasing the feeling of release. 
Then there’s the sound of footsteps and a few voices that follow. Sunghoon sucks in a deep breath, taking a fist to his mouth to bite down onto. He looks at you in fear because of the proximity of the other farmhands right outside. This only makes you smirk around him, a glint of evil in your eyes. He shakes his head hurriedly, stopping his movements—as if that would make you both disappear. 
You push yourself off his cock, licking over your cracked and saliva covered lips. You bring a finger to your lips and shush him. “Be quiet or they’ll find out what a nasty whore you are. Unless you want that.” Your voice is quiet and raspy from the abuse of him fucking himself down your throat. You stare into his eyes intently before taking him back in. He glances from you to the door of the shed, his body shaking. 
You slurp and suck him up, purposely loud and sloppy. A hand jerking off the base that doesn’t quite fit in your mouth. He cries quietly with his mouth open, meek and desperate sounds escape that he can’t withhold. “Please
” He’s whimpering, begging for something that he doesn’t know the context of. 
“Do you think the extra feed is in this one?” A voice questions, the door being opened just a crack. 
Sunghoon quickly tries to bend down for his jeans but you slap his hand away, pushing him back into the table. You grip his thighs and force yourself to take all of him down. You gag around him, eyes never leaving his panicky and fucked out face. His face silently begs for you that enough is enough but you don’t stop, because a part of you knows he doesn’t want you to either. 
“It doesn’t hurt to check, does it?” The other replies with a light chuckle. “Could take a break for some shade too while we’re at it.” The door opens slowly with an agonizing creak, sunlight barely pouring. 
Each passing second feels like an eternity to him. The door is still only cracked, not enough for them to see inside but it’s cutting it close. His cock twitches at the thought of being caught with his dick down the throat of the farmer’s daughter. A blazing adrenaline rushes through him. 
Sunghoon can’t bear it any longer. His hands find purchase on the back of your head, pushing himself completely into your mouth. His hips stutter with a whimper on his lips as the hot cum pours down your throat. “Ah, sh- ngh!” You smack at his legs for him to release the hold, choking for air to breathe. You instinctively swallow around him, consuming his load of sin.  
“You dumbass! The horses are already fed, let’s just go for a water break.” The door slams back on itself to a close. Their footsteps can be heard walking away. 
Sunghoon breathes heavily, letting go of you. His body instantly relaxing back with his elbows on the table to support him. Meanwhile you fall onto your ass, a hand around your throat while you gasp for air through rough coughs. “What the fuck did I say about putting your hands on me?” You rasp before coughing again. The taste of him sits on the back of your tongue no matter how much you swallow. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “we shouldn’t get caught.” He pulls his pants and boxers back up then extends a hand to you, an offering to help you stand back up. 
You scoff, ignoring his hand and stand up on your own. You brush the dirt and stray strands of hay from your knees. “Whatever. We both got what we wanted.” You start to turn for the door to leave the shed with the thought of brushing your teeth in mind. 
Sunghoon, confused as to what you could’ve gotten out of helping him, just reaches for your hand. He grabs you and pulls you back to look at him. His eyes are sad, maybe even a little afraid by your haste to leave. “Y-you’re just going to leave me again?” He sounds broken by the fact. 
“What?” You can’t help but breathe a laugh, “Did you expect me to do more?” You ask with raised brows. 
“No! No, not like that.. But..” He swallows his pride, “I- I don’t know. Just don’t leave yet. Please.” 
You blink at him, scanning his features like a robot in calculation. The pleading of his expression and his words aggravate you. A fiery burning to your insides and the skin that he touches, that he reached for. You look down to his tight grip on your hand before yanking it away. You don’t say anything more, and neither does he. He wipes his eyes from whatever salty wetness is still there. 
A moment of silence solidifies your decision. You beckon him to follow you out and he does. 
For the rest of his work day you remain. You try not to think about why. But subconsciously you know it’s because for the first time someone willingly wants to be by your side. At first you imagine it’s because of what you’ve done for him—gave him what any man desires: pleasure. A man falling into temptation is far too easy. 
Though he doesn’t ask for more and he doesn’t bring it up. Almost like it never happened. 
It seems like he really just wants to be around you. There’s little said between each other. It’s just idle farm work with company. And it’s more peaceful than you expected it to be. He didn’t touch you, question you, or do much at all to bother you in general. 
Sometimes he stares at you, but you do the same to him. He even gives a sheepish smile when he catches you; it doesn’t get returned. That doesn’t bother him though. He thinks you look beautiful on the farm in your dress with dirt covered hands and hair messy from the wind. He hopes to tell you that one day but for now he stays shy, still weary and afraid. 
The sun shines relentlessly unless a cloud mercifully passes by. The breeze is rare yet kind. The animals make their sounds to sing a collective song. The trees and crops sway like waving hands of hellos and goodbyes, depending on where you’re headed to or from. It’s not so bad. 
 Two weeks go by. Time flies by for both you and Sunghoon. He comes to work during the week, and he spends his weekends missing you. He doesn’t know what you two are to each other, and he’s too scared to ask. There’s definitely been changes to the dynamic, however. Subtly so. You still don’t smile, or let him touch you. You roll your eyes and insult him if he’s too emotional. But you’re there. 
Certainly not everyday, but most, you spend his work days with him. It’s easier to be around one another. There can be small talk, usually about the farm or the weather. Still much to be learned about on a personal level, but he’s fine with the pace of the relationship (outside of the unholy acts that are committed). Sometimes you even end up helping him. Or at least he thinks of it that way. In reality you don’t like how he does things and take over to do it yourself. 
You still tease him in your cruel ways. Always ending with him in a mess because he’s easily worked up by your handsy curiosity. He caves into you every time because he can’t fight the divinity that you show him. 
There are other times where you confuse him. You suggest a water break knowing he’d gone hours without hydration under the summer heat. You insist on having him take a break under a roof away from the sun when his skin gets too sweaty or red. Which is followed by a reminder that sunscreen is important if he wishes to keep his milky complexion. It’s critical statements that you provide him, but he can’t help to think it’s a weird way of showing you care. 
Sure, it could be seen as you selfishly saying these things because it’s what you want for yourself, but in the back of his mind he’s very aware of how you watch and cater to him. It makes his heart jump every time and butterflies swarm his stomach. He can’t help it. The little things, the small acts of kindness—that you might not even intend—make him delusionally overthink. 
On the third weekend since starting his summer job, Jake can’t help all the questions he’s been building up and dying to ask. Jake doesn’t understand what Sunghoon has been going through, especially when his moods change so drastically. At first, Sunghoon was self isolating and pouty, clearly in his own head and sulking. But then he would come home from work beaming with an afterglow to his aura. And then on the weekends he was back to his reclusive, depressed state. 
Sick of being left out of Sunghoon’s inner turmoil, Jake finally pesters his friend. 
“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jake stands in the doorway of Sunghoon’s room, staring at his friend who’s laying face down in his bed. 
“I don’t know
” Sunghoon’s words are muffled in his pillow. 
Jake walks in with a sigh and sits at the end of the bed. He playfully slaps Sunghoon’s leg. “Dude, just tell me. You’re obviously going through something. You know I can keep a secret. I won’t judge.” 
Sunghoon rolls over on his back, his hands clasped together over his stomach as he stares up to the ceiling. He confides in Jake, telling his story from the beginning of when he first met you. He stutters over his words when he admits to the sinful acts he partook in with you. He tells Jake of his guilty conscience and how he enjoyed indulging in the feelings. Then he tells Jake about how he simply likes your company even without the sexual circumstances involved. How he’s mystified by your complex personality and only wishes to know you more. However, he does leave out the viciousness of your nature, since a part of him doesn’t quite believe in it. 
“It seems like you’re starting to develop a crush.” Jake laughs lightly, “And if it’s about religion, don’t overthink it too much. Nobody dies completely pure.” He reassures him. “You should show her more of you. That you like her too.” 
Sunghoon groans and covers his face at the terrifying suggestion. If only you were that easy to approach in such a vulnerable way. “I guess
 I’ll consider it.” 
The next day is Sunday. Jake and Sunghoon attend church as normal. Sunghoon participates less in his prayers and songs than usual. His mind is too preoccupied with all he has going on in life. He feels guilt and frustration. 
Sunghoon, lost in his own world, fails to realize that his best friend—Jake—battles something similar internally. 
You’re never as alone as you think you are if you take a better look around. Everyone is riddled with their own self disgust, guilt, or shame. How else would the churches be so full? 
 Entering the fourth week of summer should feel easier than it does for Sunghoon. The work seems to be picking up regarding responsibilities. The weather is only becoming less forgivable. The peak is yet to hit, but that only means the seasonal storms are right around the corner. More care is needed in the fields and barns in terms of protection in case of unpredictable weather. 
Aside from the work, Sunghoon is anxious because of you. He hasn’t seen you yet today and he feels nervous about it. Perhaps he has grown too clingy, finding close comfort in knowing you’re there with him on the farm. There’s a sense of safety when you’re in the line of sight; you make things easier for him and he enjoys the presence. 
While he’s watering plants and checking the sprinklings through the fields, an older man approaches him. It’s a familiar face that he’s seen around a few times over the past month. The man waves with a smile and Sunghoon does the same. 
“It’s amazing what you’ve done, boy.” The man begins, Sunghoon questions where he’s going with the start because he’s just an extra hand of help and doesn’t feel he’s accomplished or improved the farm in drastic ways. “I’ve worked here, hm, well I’ll be damned! Nearly 15 years! And I’ve never once seen that farm girl talk to anyone. Much less spend time.” the man chuckles. 
“Oh!” Sunghoon blushes and hopes it’s only mistaken as feverish from the summer. He smiles small and stares down to the bundle of plants he brought with him to the farm today. He feels special knowing this much of you. “She’s something
” 
“Sometimes I’d see her talk to herself and the animals.” The man pulls out a cigarette and lighter to smoke. “She’d walk around aimlessly like a ghost. Used to scare the hell outta me.” As he laughs, smoke escapes his lungs. He wheezes a little before continuing, “But now she follows and watches you like she’s worshipin’. If only she did the same with her daddy. Although with a face like yours, I can’t blame the girl.” 
“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Sunghoon, bemused, watches the man smoke and laugh between weak coughs. “She has a dad?” His last question is overroad by the man who speaks over him. 
“You keep up your work, kid. I outta get back to mines too.” And then he’s walking away with a low chuckle, shaking his head to himself. 
Sunghoon’s aware of your mother. He always thought it was just the two of you running things. He’s never once seen a man, your father, leave the house or so much so be around it. This gives him more to think about, especially on the fact that he still doesn't know much about you at all. You’re still an enigma to him, but he wants everything. 
By the afternoon when all the guys are finishing up their break, you finally come out of the house. With the sound of the front door opening, Sunghoon is quick to straighten his posture and find your eyes. You’re already looking at him, watching him and his surroundings with no expression. His cheeks burn and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips. 
Two and a half days without seeing you feels like so much longer. 
He stands up from the picnic table, grabbing his newspaper wrapped bundle of greenery and shyly hiding it behind his back. He walks over to you, tripping over his feet as he approaches the porch steps to the house. You stand there in front of the door but at the top of the few stairs, arms crossed and amused. 
He’s diffident, arms behind him and modestly attempting to hide how nervous he feels on the inside. His stomach is doing flips, his heart racing. On top of already sweating. He feels like he could throw up his lunch right in front of your feet. He swallows thickly before slowly bringing his hands out in front of himself. 
“I,” he clears his throat, “ehem, I got these for you.” With outstretched arms, the bundle of flowers shake in his trembling hands. He suddenly feels he’s too nervous to even meet your eyes, so he watches the chipped paint wood of the front porch steps. 
You just stand there, watching him with wide eyes and your heart in your throat. Your mouth is lost for words, glancing around at the few farmhands who haven’t left yet and are staring at Sunghoon’s exchange in a similar bewilderment. Some are trying to keep themselves from bursting out into laughter.
“Are you some kind of stupid?” You whisper harshly for only him to hear, snatching the flowers out of his hands. “Why the hell would you do this?” Your words like your tone are mean, but in your chest there’s a raging pounding. It’s a seething raw emotion that doesn’t know how to be dealt with. You’ve only just stepped out of the house and your body feels like it’s inside a furnace. 
Sunghoon’s head shoots back up to look at you, his face and heart drop. “I-I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I wasn’t sure what to do.. This is what boyfriends do, right?” He takes a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Inner turmoil takes over and he thinks he’s fucked up. He bites at his lip, doing his best not to instantly cry in regret. 
You notice this and sigh, irritated. You look from the neatly wrapped white roses and tulips and back to Sunghoon. “So you are stupid,” you mumble before taking your own bottom lip between your teeth. A part of you wants to sneer, but you spin on your heels to hide the warmth that floods your face in substitution. “I’m throwing them away,” you announce, opening the door and walking back inside your house. 
Sunghoon, broken, just drops his head and turns back. A few of the farmhands are snickering from not too far away, chattering among each other and eyeing Sunghoon. He wishes God would smite him on the spot from the humiliation. 
Wanting to avoid everything for a little while, he thinks of heading to the lodge to lay down in hiding. But before he can walk away, the front door of your house swings open once more. He glances back at you, meeting your eyes like he always seems to do. 
“Done for the day already?” You call over to him, now leaning over the banister of the porch with crossed arms. 
Sunghoon, unable to refute you, offers a weak smile and shakes his head. “No.” 
He walks back over to you and you meet him halfway. You don’t say anything else. You don’t bring up the fact that he had bought you flowers or confused the odd relationship you share for dating. It’s cute in all its blind innocence, but that just goes to show you that you have more work to do with him. 
You don’t think of messing with him today. He’s distinctly grown too clingy with how much time you’ve spent with him. Yet you can’t ignore him either. The two of you carry out the rest of the day’s farm work in silence. The inner fury you feel with him doesn’t seem to go away, despite how he hasn’t said much or even brushed skin with you. 
You don’t know how you’re remaining pacific by his side. The rampaging of your heart strings tug like a screaming instrument just from being next to him. How he can keep walking tall, stare at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, or even smile at you is beyond what you know is capable of humans. Men like him only existed in books and movies. You wonder if he’s perhaps playing a game like you.
By the time he’s in the truck to go back to town to catch a bus into the city, you’re sitting at the lake dock. Criss crossed legs, a bouncing knee, and fingernails being ripped at by your teeth. You stare blankly at the water, hoping for that sense of serenity to encapsulate you. It never seems to come. It just feels cold.
So you decide on punishing him for making you feel this way. 
You don’t leave your house for the next three days. You don’t make yourself known, heard or seen. However, you’re peeking out every window of your house to get any chance of a view of him. You hate yourself for being so curious of him in the first place. What was supposed to be good fun has only left you feeling angry. Taking his innocence was never going to heal you, or even make him like yourself. In fact, it’s making you sicker.
And on the night of the fourth Thursday, you’re laying in bed staring at your ceiling. A stuffed animal is hugged tightly to your chest. You can’t sleep and you can’t stop thinking about someone for the first time in your life. No amount of tossing and turning, counting sheep, or button presses to your distorted singing, stuffed bear made it easier. 
Somehow, you ended up punishing yourself. You always had a knack for that, historically, but this time felt different. It actually kind of hurt. Being alone came naturally to you, but tonight it hits you just how lonely you’ve always been. 
 Friday, the farmhands are huddled on the front porch of your house. All the animals are safely away in their designated homes thanks to their help. It started to storm in a heavy downpour only minutes ago. What started out as a dark gray gloom and windy rain quickly turned into an early flooded property, illuminated by strikes of flashing lightning and roaring thunder. 
You stand dry under the protection of the porch roof by the front door. Watching and listening to your mother suggest the shaking cold, soaked men take shelter in the lodge until the sky lets up so they can head home. 
Sunghoon hasn’t spared a look to you all day, but you know that he feels his eyes on you. It’s in the way he shifts awkwardly amongst the men that ignore him. How his eyes are trained low and unfocused yet always trying to move in your direction. His wet hair falls over his face, concealing his emotions you wish to dissect. He comes off as stoic but you know he wears his heart on his sleeve; how his body language speaks volumes. 
Your mother pushes past you to get back inside, saying she’ll check the basement for a spare heater that the boys could use at the lodge. There’s something in you that makes you move without thinking. Suddenly a hand is tugging at the bottom of Sunghoon’s damp jacket for his attention. The material is too thin for this weather and the thought of him becoming sick crosses your mind. 
“It’s warmer here,” your words, for once, came out soft. Too much so, being lost in the cracking sound of thunder. He looks at you through his bangs. The wave of alleviation from whatever he was dealing with is palpable. His eyes and body almost look relaxed. You tug him towards you once more, insinuating that he follows you. 
He does. Like whatever subconscious emotion made you approach him also made him follow you in. As he steps in, he notices the indistinguishable vibes of the farmer’s lodge. It’s updated and cleaner, but similar in aesthetics. A shotgun sits leaning up against the wall by the front door. His brows furrow and eyes narrow. “Those aren’t safe to have lying around
” he mumbles. 
You tug him towards the staircase to walk up, “It’s protection. Only my mother and I are here,” is mumbled back as you lead him up the wooden, creaking stairs. Your feet move light and quick, like a mouse in a home not theirs. If your mother saw you, there would be unnecessary consequences. And the possibility of your father’s involvement would only worsen such. 
Sunghoon cautiously steps into your bedroom, his body tenses at the sound of you shutting and locking the door. He feels on edge, wrapping his arms around his shivering body and soaked clothes. You move around him to sit on your bed, telling him to remove his sopping attire. He does so with shaking hands, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. He shyly looks around the room while using his hands to cover his manhoon. 
His eyes scan over you, sitting quietly on your bed with a look of contemplation that stares past him. A wooden cross hangs on the wall above your bed, the dark wood matches the decadent bed frame. The nightstand nearby has a pile of books and journals with a low light lamp and unlit candle. 
The large window has sheer white curtains drawn open and a vase on the windowsill. A glass vase filled with the flowers he gave you earlier in the week. His heart aches at the sight of the still healthy white roses and tulips, and a smile graces his lips. You liar! You kept them! Is what runs through his thoughts. 
Without Sunghoon realizing, you got up to grab a towel and drape over the back of his shoulders. He’s taken aback by your ghost-like actions, but offers you a small smile of appreciation. “Thanks
” 
You nod for response and glance from him to the vase of flowers he was lost in thought over. You didn’t have it in to explain yourself, mostly because you didn’t understand why you had done so either. 
He dries himself off and finds a place to sit at the end of your bed. You’re on the other end with your back pressed to the headboard, watching him, counting every mole you can find on his pale canvas. The stuffed animal you sleep with is being mindlessly fumbled around in your hands. 
Sunghoon turns to face you directly, he reaches a hand out, eyes shifting from your face and the winged bear. You shoot him a mean look at first, only holding it closer to yourself before your face softens to slowly extend it out to him. 
He takes it with careful hands and looks down to inspect the old toy. Its cream colored fur is dirtied and matted with age. The holographic satin wings on the back have loose stitching and its halo is crooked. Across the chest of the bear reads ‘Jesus Loves Me’ but it’s obvious the sewn name Jesus has been ripped away at. One paw has a red heart embroidered saying ‘press me’. His thumb brushes over the button heart before pressing down. The bear sings in a distorted happy voice the lullaby of Jesus loves me. 
“His name is Saint Michael,” you say quietly and he almost doesn’t catch it. Sunghoon can only breathe a laugh because he finds the dichotomy cute. You almost laugh too, but bite your tongue and look back to your empty hands. You don’t know it but he can see you try to fight your little smile. To him, this moment means more than anything; he’s starting to see you’re more tender than you realize. It brings him a sense of surety in knowing that he can break you like you to do him. 
Silly as it may seem for a troubled girl, the bear was the only comfort you had throughout childhood. There was no kindness from your father, no solace from your mother, no guide in knowing life or love. But there was Saint Michael, the stuffed angel bear; he may not have defended you in battle but he hugged you back, and that was enough to cherish him like a deity. 
Sunghoon crawls across the bed and sits himself next to you, too close for your liking, but you don’t push him away. He hands the stuffie back to you and you place it on the nightstand to face away from you. You lower yourself in the bed, shuffling under the covers of the blanket and he does the same. His skin naked bare yearns for more warmth, yours specifically. 
You feel him turn on his side next to you, pressing up against you despite there being enough space on the bed. His movements are awkward and nervous like he is. You feel a certain pressure against your thigh that isn’t his bones or limbs. You spare him a glance, he doesn’t know if it’s a warning or dare. 
“...Have I ruined you?” You wonder aloud, looking back to the ceiling. 
“No,” he answers quickly, shaking his head against your shoulder. The way he’s missed you in his desire to touch you, hands tingling with want to snake around your waist and pull you in tight. “I think I just want you all the time now. I can’t help it, m’sorry.” He sounds ashamed in his soft mumbles. 
“I’ll only keep stripping all that purity from you. Once it’s mine it’ll remain mine, you know that right?” You look back at him before brushing some of his drying hair from his eyes. He tries to lean up into the touch but your hand is taken back. “And I will pretend it’s healing all that’s missing from me. Do you really want to be mine, Sunghoon?” Your words are so gentle yet laced with threat. 
“Yes,” he exhales, “I want to be yours. Let me be yours please.” It’s hushed, a secret prayer with hope. His hips push further into the skin of your leg, where the hip meets the thigh. He wouldn’t mind going to Hell if it meant more time with you. 
“You beg like a needy barn animal in heat.” You use a hand to cup his face, he sighs into the hold as he eyes flutter to a close. You push your leg in between his, terribly close to his exposed and vibrating body. “So hump me like one.” 
“W-what?” he stutters out before licking over his lips, his thighs squeezing around the plush of yours now trapped in his. His eyes already wet with desperate want, staring back at yours.
“Do it. Like it’s mating season and you want to claim me before anyone else.” 
A cracked voice whine falls from his lips and he begins to roll his growing bulge against you. You watch as he sucks in breaths between quiet breathy moans. His pink, plump lips pursing and falling open. His eyes try to stay on your face, how close you are to him, but they fall shut sometimes in his basking of rapture. It’s a slutty sight of a faith-sickened boy. 
He loves the little to no proximity that there is. His hands find place on your waist, and he’s aware of how that makes you feel, but he can’t stop it. He wants more and more of you. His hands slide up under your shirt, the feeling on your bare skin in his hands makes his body shudder. Untouched, warm flesh for his large hands to explore and learn every curve of. 
Even you stiffen at his exploration, holding in your breath as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe. Your shirt lifts up more with his hands and the exposure is daunting like you’re revealing your insides. 
The pit of your stomach lights up and you're frozen under his clutch. The pads of his fingers hold you so tight as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. His cock is raging and you can feel every pulse of blood that his heart beat floods to. He’s humping into you desperately, chasing the euphoria that he could never find on his own. Such a delicate, shy boy now driven by lust and longing. 
“You’re pathetic and disgusting. You’re practically fucking me through our clothes,” you murmur while you try to push his hands down off you, but his grip won’t let up. Instead his nails dig further into you, a barely sounding broken noise escapes you from the pain. This makes his body collapse further into you, his head dropping between your shoulder and neck. His movements are sloppy and rushed. 
“N-no, I’m still good. You make me feel good, I am so good,” he whines, tears beginning to fall from his eyes to your shoulder. You try to imagine his holy water is washing you clean but it only singes. 
“Tell me that only I make you feel good, that you’re only good for me.” 
“Only you—can only be you to make me good,” he cries against your warmth, rocking himself into you roughly. His leaking cock begins to twitch against you and his hips won’t quit their stuttered jerks. 
You hum lightly and run a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He looks up at you with those desperate, wet, dark eyes and you can’t help but acknowledge how pretty he is like this. His puffy cheeks are flushed pink as the tip of his nose. “Only for me,” you mumble.
“Yes, thank you, I am yours. Yes.” His breaths are jagged and heavy. There’s a coiling in his abdomen that feels borderline explosive. You were right, he craves this feeling. It’s surreal to him how he’s gone so long without it. His arms wrap around you completely now, holding you down while his body rolls on top of yours, situated between your legs. His heart hammers against your chest; he wants to mold into you, to become a singular rot. 
You squeak a gasp, being caged down by him. Your heart beats with the same veracity. One of your arms wraps around his waist to hold his back while the other holds the back of his head that hasn’t left the safety of your neck. He continuously sobs through meek moans. His hair tickles your skin like sparks while his lips brush over your jaw and neck making the tingle feel like crackling flames. 
Under his weight you feel yourself slipping in both confidence and dominance, your body wanting to sink down in submission from the unknown comfort of his control. Your heart aches and you feel something you’ve never felt before. You think you’re scared of it, yet your body pulls him closer. Hand in his hair, tugging with fearful aggression. Nails piercing the skin of his shoulder blade. You’re pliant under his heavy thrusts and sounds of sin. 
The rain pours harder outside with whips of harsh winds smacking the window. It’s almost like God’s wrath is screaming to be seen, to shout that He is watching. 
Sunghoon’s hard cock is relentless against your core. The rough grind of him is stimulating in ways   you’ve never felt before, your body sensitive and starving for more. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan within your closed mouth, hating yourself for feeling this way because it was never supposed to be about you. You are betraying yourself more than your fathers.
The sounds you try to withhold make Sunghoon weaker. He feels uncontrollable, only becoming needier and hungrier with his movements, “I can’t stop. I can’t stop.” He whines, begging for you to vocalize how you feel it too. 
You feel like you’re breaking underneath him, and it feels shameful. Like every harsh word your father ever spat at you was true now that you’re a part of the experience and not just the cause. Everything is too much. It takes every ounce of strength you have to turn both of your bodies over. Now sitting up on top of his lap, you can finally breathe again, sighing in relief. He whimpers at the distance between you both but also from the view of you. 
He moans your name softly as he grips your hips, pushing himself up into your clothed pussy like he’s fucking you. Your hands push down on his shoulders. You stare into his eyes with a plain expression and contrasting sharp eyes, grinding your hips back down on top of him. It’s hard to ignore the way it makes you feel, watching him fall apart beneath you as his pulsing cock fucks against you, but you manage. 
“Cum for me,” you demand quietly, “make a mess and imagine it’s inside me.” 
“Holy fu—ngh,” his entire body spasms and shudders with a low groan falling from his open lips. His movements slow down only to become lazier and uncoordinated. You can feel the warm wetness he spills soak through your thin pajama shorts and underwear. 
“You’re right. You are good for me,” you coo softly, cupping his face and using your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Your hips circle and swivel slowly on him until his quivering cock finishes cumming. 
Sunghoon has a sparkle to his wet eyes. The way the gentle praise left your lips makes him melt, and he can’t stop the flickering glance between your eyes and lips. He breathes heavily through his post clarity. Still he basks in your touch with a hopeful look in his eyes. His tongue slides over his lips before he’s leaning up towards your face, hands affixed to your waist to pull you closer to him. 
This makes a wave of panic wash over you, knowing what he wants to do. You shake your head no and pull yourself away, slipping off of his lap only to turn away from him. 
“None of that. It’s not what-” 
And then there’s a press of lips to your cheek. Your face burns as if a hot coal was what kissed your face. Your eyes go wide, turning to see the boy sitting up next to you. He only wears a shy smile as he sees your reaction.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a week now,” he admits with a small laugh. “Not exactly there but that’s fine. I wish you would let me help you feel good too.” he whispers, looking back to the windowsill where the gifted flowers stood in their vase with the raging storm as their backdrop. 
“That’s dumb and I don’t need to,” you reply, still watching him stare forward. Your chest feels painful; it’s an ache like shattered glass trying to piece together in the wrong ways. Stabbing but trying.
“I think you deserve to,” he argues. “But I understand if it’s not what you want. I was really touchy and I shouldn’t have been because you don’t seem like it. I was too caught up in the moment.” His mind goes to the mess he’s still sitting in and he feels self-conscious all over again. “Is it embarrassing how much I need you?”
You blink at him, swallowing the words that were never going to come out because you didn’t even know what they should or would be. So you settle with a simple, “No.”
You think it would kill you to admit how much you actually always wished to be wanted, needed, or loved. A bigger part of you didn’t think you were worthy of it, let alone capable. The world had such a way of saying otherwise. Until it brought Sunghoon to you; the boy who showed you feelings and experiences you never thought possible. 
As if he could read your mind, he asks, “Why did you choose me out of everyone?” He falls back onto the bed, laying down and pulling the blanket over himself. 
“I think you reminded me of a lamb.” 
“Pardon?” His brows furrow. 
You lay back down next to him, facing him like he is to you. “Pretty, white, and docile. You were so nervous when I first saw you—sometimes you still are.” You even laugh a little. “When you shook my hand I knew I could do anything to you because you’d let me.” 
“You think I’m pretty?” He smiles wide, scooting closer to you. 
You scoff with an eye roll, leaning further away from him. “Oh shut up, you’ve seen a mirror.” 
And then it’s his turn to laugh a little. He looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and falls. It kind of hurts you to see him like this because it reminds you of your initial rotten intentions and how they’re dissipating the more you’re with him. 
Time passes faster than the two of you realize. There’s light banter and easy conversations. You learn more about Sunghoon. Where he goes to school, what he studies, and who his friends are. He tells you of the sports he used to do and what he does in free time with his best friend. The more you learn about him, the more you understand his naivety and how despite what you’ve done, he won’t change. There’s something lovely about it. 
You don’t have much to share about your life the way he does, at least not in the same light. But you show him your favorite books, drawings you made over the years, and share the stories of movies you found interesting. He savors the moment of you simply confiding, enjoying the more he can know about you. 
The storm passes later in the evening. So caught up in borrowing time, the rain has slowed down to a simple pitter patter. The clouds dispersed and the setting sun only came through to say goodbye to the day. 
The sound of the truck that the farmhands use to take back to town is heard roaring to life, signalling you and Sunghoon that it’s safe and time to head out. 
Sunghoon jumps out of bed but by the time he’s shoving himself into his still damp jeans and looking out the window, the truck is already speeding down the dirt, now mud riddled road. 
“They just left without me,” he breathes out. “I’m used to them leaving me out, but t-this is.. How am I going to get home?” He looks back to you with sad eyes, not the light they had earlier. He’s not shocked by their actions, but he is disappointed. A hand runs through his hair in his stress. 
“Should I kill them?” Your question is brazen, body and voice eerily still in your seriousness. 
“W-what?!” he whispers in shock, freezing for a moment. 
“I’m joking.” You sit up and watch Sunghoon resume getting dressed. “I think you should head back to the lodge for the night. There’s a washer and dryer for your clothes. And spare food for dinner too.” 
Sunghoon nods slightly, “your jokes are weird, but okay.” He looks like he’s thinking of something, taking his bottom lip between his teeth in thought before speaking again. “Can you stay with me for the night at least?” he asks shyly. 
“No,” comes out quicker than you intended. “...But I guess I can walk with you there.” 
He nods again but now with his signature small dimpled smile. You almost forgot about being angry at the other farmhands for taking it away. 
You have to make sure the coast is clear before leaving the house. You tiptoe down the halls and stairs, weary of where your mother is inside the house. To your luck, she’s in her usual state. She’s passed out on the couch with two empty bottles of wine on the floor. The television volume is low, playing a rerun of the reverend’s sermon; the devil himself of your childhood, preaching about how he lost his child to the otherside. 
With a finger to your lips, you silently signal for Sunghoon to be quiet and to follow you out. 
Once safely out of the front door, you take his hand in yours and start running for the lodge. The tall boy is behind you, so you don’t get to see the bright smile on his lips or in his eyes as you run through the light run towards the lodge. 
Now standing in the front doorway of the farmer’s lodge, wet from the sky all over again and still hand in hand, Sunghoon bravely speaks up.
“I don’t like it when you disappear on me,” he breathes out shakily, honestly. “Nobody else sees me like you do,” he squeezes your hand tighter in his, feeling you begin to pull away. “Come with me into the city tomorrow. We can- I’m not sure yet, but I’m sure I want more time with you.” 
His eye contact is unwavering, begging. Both of his strong hands hold onto yours. You glance from your hand then back to his pleading expression. He will always remain so sweet, no matter what you do to him. 
“I felt less lonely before I met you,” you confess, eyes unblinking as you stare up at him for a long pause. “I’ll meet you here in the morning.” 
In only seconds, he’s pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap around you so tightly as he holds you to his chest. You go stiff in his arms, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. What feels suffocating at first turns into a warmth you’ve become all too familiar with, and it was never anger. The indignation you always wear is just a hand me down from your parents; it doesn’t fit you right even though it’s comfortable. 
With a shaky exhale, you wrap your arms around him too. The hug surrounds you like a blanket of unknown comfort. Your ear pressed to his chest listens to the sound of his racing heart. You can feel the pound throughout his entire body too. Every emotion held within is trying and fighting to be seen. It’s still so cold from the rain but he feels contrast, only warm. His lips press a kiss to the top of your head, making your body burn even more and your hold all the tighter. 
 True to your word, you meet Sunghoon at the farmer’s lodge the next morning. He seems happier than usual. Very giddy to be spending a weekend day with you without work in the way. No distractions or excuses to leave. Just the two of you and a new day with zero obligations.
Because you had a spare bike, you both are able to peddle towards town to the bus stop together. Having made these frequent trips alone, you’re familiar with the owner of the gas station at the stop. He’s a deaf older man, and it surprises Sunghoon that you know how to sign and ask him to hold onto the bikes until you’re back. You tell Sunghoon that you learned some basics from reading a book you bought a long time ago. 
Stunned, Sunghoon realizes that you went out of your way to do so for one man who watches your bike while you endure solo trips. You, the odd girl who was mean and sinful, used your money and learned a language for one man who did a simple favor. He’s learning more to admire you for by the day, and it’s crazy to him how you don’t see your own charm. 
Sunghoon pays your bus fares even though you insisted on being capable of doing so yourself. Sat in the middle of the bus that’s only barely half filled, he asks if there’s anything you’d like to do for the day while in the city. Nobody has ever asked you such an effortless thing, and you like it more than you imagined. Just uncomplicated curiosity of your wishes. 
“The book store. The small yellow one on main street. Maybe see a movie if anything is worth seeing.” You shrug, spewing out the usual things you do. Looking around the taken bus seats, you notice some familiar faces. 
“That sounds nice,” he smiles, “our first real date! I think there’s a cafe near that book store too. Do you like coffee?” 
Your cheeks burn as you stare at him in bewilderment, “you think we’re going on a date?!” 
“Of course we are,” he laughs like it’s obvious and wraps an arm around your shoulder, looking out of the window. All that the town can offer him other than you passes by. “I’m a fan of americanos. You seem like you’d take your coffee black.” 
“I don’t even like coffee,” you mumble, turning your attention out of the window as well. “Tea is nice though.” You add in, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Hm. I can see that too,” he hums as he pulls you closer into his side. 
So much can change in such little time. You’ve experienced this many times in one life. How one day can open a new door to a path otherwise not taken. Showing Sunghoon more of you has made him bloom into a larger ray of light. He seems more comfortable, and now you’ve become the awkward one. 
The ride to the city doesn’t normally take this long, or at least you don’t think it does. Every second with him by your side makes the experience feel brand new. The theme of time being unreal is common with him, you’ve discovered. It’s when you’re in the bookstore and see a holiday sale that you realize it’s not even June anymore. 
While Sunghoon looks for books for his upcoming college semester, you find yourself in genre sections you never really cared for before. The dark and racy ones were fun to bring home, sure. But innocent, cliche romance was always something cringey to you. Now if you change your perspective to that of research then it’s less daunting, right? Perhaps you’d make sense of all the things you’re discovering about yourself and him. Yeah, that’s convincing enough. 
He teases you at the checkout counter when he sees what you picked out. Your face flushes in embarrassment and you can’t even bite back at him or defend your choices. So you smack him with the book on the way out while he laughs and makes jokes that aren’t very funny. 
The two of you do manage to catch a movie. You honestly didn’t care to see one, but having to sit silently in a theater for at least an hour and half seemed like enough time for him to, hopefully, forget and drop the whole book situation. It’s a summer slasher film. A group of teens go camping and the plot is very ‘who done it’ style. Overall, it’s a fun choice. You have your turn to laugh and joke when Sunghoon gets jumpy or scared. 
After the movie, you both end up at the cafe Sunghoon mentioned while on the bus. There was something painfully intimate about everything today. But especially sitting down to eat with him. Not even your mother could meet you at the table anymore. 
“You seem softer today,” Sunghoon states, setting his half-drunk coffee down. “Almost nervous. Is it because we’re out together for our first date? Or just the people in general?” 
You raise a brow at his brazen curiosity and observation. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” you play with your fork to move around the barely touched food in front of you. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both.” 
“If you come to the city enough to know sign language for the man who watches your bike, do you like it better than the countryside?” 
“Don’t know. I’m used to the quiet life, but leaving it behind and pretending it’s not there is nice too.” 
“What keeps you there?” 
“The scenery. The air. The lake. Being friends with the animals.” You look up from the plate to Sunghoon who is watching you like a lecture: attentive and learning. “I’m not very good with people, so I think it suits me alright.” 
“You’re good with me though,” he argues softly.
“No, not really. I wish I was more like everyone else,” you inhale deeply as your eyes wander around the bustling cafe. There’s a choir of laughter, conversations, and social dynamics you would have to study to master. “If I were a good person, everything would be easier.” 
“...but I like you as you are,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear, watching you shift in your seat. He doesn’t think you’re not a good person, and it hurts that you see yourself as such. 
As Sunghoon speaks, there’s a chime that follows as the front door of the cafe is swung open. A disheveled man stumbles inside, heavy feet stomping the tile floor to attempt to stabilize his disorientation. The man burps obnoxiously loud, and many eyes find him with the grand entrance. 
He scratches at his lengthy, unkept beard as he looks around. When his sunken eyes find you sitting at the table nearby his eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. His hand shakes with a pointed finger in your direction, “y-you! The girl from the reverend’s sermon!” He’s loud, capturing the attention of everyone now. His sloppy movements make way towards you and Sunghoon; you feel everything within you freeze, and your heart knocks at your chest fast and hard with anxiety.  
He slams his hands on the table, causing your plates and drinks to rattle. He reeks badly of alcohol and his crazed eyes never leave yours. You swallow thickly, fight or flight mode still trying to understand the situation before you. Meanwhile Sunghoon, worried and confused, slowly begins to stand up and grab your bags. 
But you, you’re frozen staring at the messy man who talks of your greatest hate. Your hands tremble on the table. 
“I thought the reverend made you up for stories, but my God! You’re the real living thing just like the pictures; his only sin,” he laughs boisterously in your face and you try not to gag. “I saw him a little whiles earlier, ya know,” his voice goes quieter, it’s taunting even. You wish to remain calm but your eyes tremble and a frown takes your face. “I should go find him and tell him you’re here. He really-”
Sunghoon takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the table. You almost fall from your seat, like a baby deer just learning to walk, there’s little strength to your legs. 
“It’s not too late! You can be on the right side of things!” his voice ricochets off the walls of the now quiet cafe. “If I can be saved by his preaching, so can you! Look at me!” His mad laughter follows you and Sunghoon outside. 
Sunghoon watches you stand on uneasy feet, zoned out staring at the sidewalk. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together that the drunken man was talking about your father. Your father being a reverend who’s not in the picture gave him much to wonder about, but now isn’t the time. He just wanted to get you somewhere away from this memory. 
He crouches down in front of you. You slowly blink back to reality, now looking down at his back. You don’t want to speak so you poke his shoulder in questioning.
“Hop on. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“What if I’m heavy?” you look at the bags he’s already holding, feeling that you too are a burdened weight he doesn’t need to hold. 
“I’ve got good muscles, remember? Good for farm work,” he’s patient and calm with you while his eyes watch the man from outside the glass cafe windows. “Come on, baby.”
Without thinking, you end up on his back. He carries you on his back, strong arms holding your legs while yours are loosely around his neck. Your insides are a flared up hurricane but at least that allows your body to forget the empty ache you left at the cafe. With your chin hooked over his shoulder, you watch the many people and downtown stores that pass by.
Sunghoon doesn’t exactly know where he’s walking, but thinks it’s best to end the day here and return you to the bus stop. He’s never seen that look on your face before—the one you had when the man was loud in your face. He didn’t like it, and he’s sure you hated it. You looked intimidated, or afraid. 
“Would you kill him for me?” you watch the side of his face, “the reverend, I mean.” 
He stops in his tracks and turns his head to look back at you, “w-what? I can’t kill someone
 and you should joke like that.” he panics, looking around to see if someone was listening to the wild conversation and request.
“Yeah, I know. I’m fucking with you,” you look away to hide your smirk, “and only half joking.”
“Did you believe him before?” He starts walking again, but this time at a slower pace knowing the bus stop isn’t too far now. 
“Who? My dad or Our Father?” There’s a use of air quotes at the end of your question. 
“Both?” his head tilts. 
“Neither,” you confirm. There’s a pause for thought and Sunghoon waits for you to further explain. “My relationship with both is too similar. They’ve both known me my whole life, right? Seen all of my wrong doings and in return shown wrath through unnecessary punishments called forgiveness. In what good world is tolerance violent?”
“What do you mean? What did he do?”
“Sometimes, after my mother set the table for dinner, he would knock my plate to the floor. Tell me to eat off the ground like the animal I was or starve.” Sunghoon frowns at this, coming to a slow stop when he sees the bus shelter bench. “Sometimes I had days and nights locked in the barns, but he switched it up to the basement when I was too close with the animals.” You laugh a little, but he senses the pain behind it. “I watched him kill the animals, too, only to smother me in their blood. Beatings were rare, but I think only because he despised the thought of even touching me.”
Sunghoon slowly sets you down to the ground and breathes out your name safely, taking your hands into his. He looks at you with sorrow, like he was the one who endured it with you. 
“God’s orders, am I right? My father, the church goers, speak of God like they’ve seen his face and heard his voice, but they haven’t. I would’ve by now too.” 
If He was really in everything, all around, why did He always turn a blind eye? Why does He pretend to not know you? It only made it harder to believe in—something that would bring you here, torture you then watch you suffer for not living how it pleases. God wants to be believed in, but so do you. Only you would never beg for compassion. 
Sunghoon squeezes your hands in his, “I don’t think you should stay there. You never deserved that
 even if you’re volatile and strange
 because you’re also kind and caring. It’s why I like you. It’s their fault for not seeing that,” he reassures. “I haven’t been through what you have, and I can’t understand. I-I mean I can try to, ya know
 it’s not like I’d leave if I didn’t.” His words begin to stumble nervously, not confident in its sympathy reaching you where needed.
You laugh nervously, trying to tug your hands away from his grip that doesn’t let up. “Okay sure whatever, this is really embarrassing now
” You swallow hard and find difficulty in meeting his eyes. 
That’s all that matters, what he said to you, but you didn’t have it in you to say it. He already knows it though, smiling small and holding your hands still. Without words or excessive displays he can still see it in your eyes, the subtle comfort of acceptance. 
He could never blame you for your nature. He sees your anger as you just trying to be strong all while being sad. Whether you are his lover or executioner, he would accept you as you are every time with open arms, receiving hands. Even more readily, now.
 Even more time has passed since knowing Sunghoon. Summer has never flown by so fast. The calendar doesn’t exist to you anymore. It’s only the days you see him and the days that you don’t. The season will be wrapping up in the next few weeks, but only for him. He has to return to his regular scheduled routine of pursuing education while you will stay here, on the farm. It’s rare for you to feel this emotion: fear. You are scared of losing him. And the concept is something you do your best to avoid thinking about because it makes your skin itch with anxiety. It crawls over you like something that needs to be cut out. 
And then an idea hits you. Something far more deep-seated than everything else you’ve done with Sunghoon that would solidify that this summer is real and yours. Something that will always stay; a reminder that good things are possible despite how the world has made you. 
It’s a damn near perfect day. The sun is so bright, and only peers down onto you both through the gaps of the trees. It’s just warm enough. Just quiet enough aside from the sound of Sunghoon’s gentle breathing and natural composition of the nature that surrounds. Rustling of leaves, chirps of birds, and scurrying of whatever life that wishes to not be seen. 
You both sit criss cross at the wooden dock by the lake, simply enjoying the scenery and all it has to offer. His large knee is affixed to yours. If this was early June, you would have moved away. But now it’s a week into August and you wouldn’t have it anywhere else. Just like you always imagined, and secretly wanted, the view is nicer with someone else. 
He didn’t bother asking why you never brought him here before, or why it is that you chose to now. He’s just happy that you decided to at all. 
You slip a hand into your boot and pull out a pocket knife. You flick it open and do a brief inspection of the cleaned blade. The sun glints off the metal as you turn it. 
“Sunghoon, do you trust me?” 
His eyes flicker from your blank face to the blade. He nods slowly with a swallow, “of course.” There’s a subtle apprehension to him. You hand him the small blade and leave your palm facing up, open to him. 
“Cut a diagonal line down my hand,” you point and draw a line down the middle of your palm. 
“Huh, seriously?” he takes the blade confused and concerned with what you’re asking of him. “Why? I can’t hurt you.”
“Do it. Don’t think of it as hurting me, but still do it deep enough to leave a scar.” 
He struggles to understand the situation, but you’re so serious and clearly waiting for him to do as you asked. He exhales deeply, taking your hand in his while the other holds the knife just above the bared skin. Hesitant and slow, the tip of the knife pressed down into your flesh. You wince a little, which makes him pause. You nod, encouraging him to continue and he does despite hating the act. He slices the palm of your hand open just as you wanted. You hate blood, but it’s not so bad when caused by him.
“Shit, it stings,” you swallow through the pain. The feel of open flesh burning and stinging. “Your turn,” you exhale while taking the knife back with your free, unharmed hand. 
“My turn,” he agrees as if all logic has left him and readily displays his palm to you. Deep down, he feels guilty for hurting you, so to make it even he wants to feel the same.
Just as hesitant and careful, you create a matching wound in his hand. A deep enough, bleeding, lesion in his left hand to match  your right one. He cringes at the sight and the pain before looking back to your face. Your expression is so soft yet attentive, almost awestruck. 
“Even when you hurt me you’re gentle,” he remarks, watching you in amazement with a meek smile. 
“I am not gentle. I have sullied you,” you remind him, your eyes attempt to glare but they’re too bright in his. 
“In the softest way, why?” His voice is delicate and still like the lake that sits before you. You blink slowly at him because there are no words to be found. He continues, “I never thought of you as a bad person,” he pauses as you drop the red stained knife, unsure if he should continue at first but does regardless. “And, uhm, I’ve thought a lot about this summer. What I've learned from you. Purity is constructive—like something made to bring shame.” You don’t move, watching him. “I don’t have to be clean to be good
and your hands never made me dirty. Because they never were either.” 
Like an excavator to your tall, strong built walls Sunghoon has knocked your shield down. The facade of your character is breaking down, crumbling into the broken pieces that made it. A single tear escapes your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s rare for you to cry and you’re disgusted with the reality as to why it’s now that you break. Simply falling apart from kind words. 
You try to use everything in you to ignore the heat in your body, to show the anger you think you’re feeling inside. So your eyes remain sharp and strong, boring into his, as they still water. You swallow the dry lump in your throat and without a word, you take his hand into yours to join in a mix of blood. 
At first, you had one goal; one similar to murder. The sparkle he had in his eyes, you wanted to eat—to make them empty—and see the world ugly and godless like you. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, his eyes shone even brighter. You only wanted to take and take of the innocent boy, but in this moment you realize, maybe I just wanted to give him some of me. 
You wipe the wet drop away from your face with haste, pretending as if it was never there. Whatever blood oath you’re making with Sunghoon allows you to feel something indescribable. You don’t know if it’s deserved, but you smile anyways. Because the indescribable feeling feels like it’s an unknown, unspoken promise. 
He’s seen you smile before with insidious malice, but this time, for the first time, you are really smiling. It’s a raw expression of surfacing emotions, and he returns the emotion like the sun. He thought of you beautiful before but with your brightness finally peering through your clouds, he believes you to be heaven sent. A part of him always wanted to see you cry—usually it was him with tears in his eyes; which is funny, because he wasn’t much of a cryer himself. You just had that way of breaking him down. He knows now he does for you too. And he can tell that you’re probably the type of person who needs to cry the most. 
His hand squeezes yours tighter, a grip so loving, as you bind in one. Neither of your eyes or smiles leave each other until the bleeding stops. 
 A week later, Sunghoon asks you on a date. The summer fair is in town. It’s something like a festival where all the locals from towns around the city come to visit and join in on festivities from carnival games, rides, food, and uncommon entertainments. You think of being mean, denying him the acceptance of the date, but you have always wanted to go. So you said yes without your words: took his scarred hand in yours and nodded. 
The evening sky is a watercolor of warm tones as the sun begins to lay down for the night. The bright lights of the fair illuminate the large open field turned carnival. There’s a sea of people here tonight, and although it makes you nervous inside, having Sunghoon by your side makes the ordeal easier to handle. 
The line for the ticket booth is lengthy but it passes by. You approach the booth, standing a little behind Sunghoon who takes out his wallet to buy your entrance wristband passes and tickets. You look around at the many people: families, friends, and couples, all immersed in their own experience as the music and sounds blend in the background of conversations. 
“Oh wow! You’re really handsome,” the girl at the ticket booth gawks at Sunghoon. She straightens her posture and fixes her hair from her face, “one ticke-?”
Catching this, you step forward and snatch Sunghoon’s wallet from his hands, “he already knows that. Do your job or I’ll feed you to pigs.” You slap the cash amount for what you need down onto the table top with a straight face and mean eyes. 
Her eyes go wide and she hushes an apology, quickly giving you both wristbands and tickets for the evening. She even threw in extra tickets as you stared her down. 
Sunghoon watches you with a flushed face, even the tips of his ears burn red at your jealous threat. You both walk off into the fair, a sheepish smile on his face as he leads you through the crowd with an arm wrapped around your back and hand to your waist. 
“Was that one of your jokes too?” he grins down at you.
“Nope,” you glance at him with a small smile. You weren’t sure what came over you in the moment, but it was something internally deep, and territorial. An innate reaction to someone trying to appeal to something that belongs to you. It felt ugly and you didn’t like it. 
The idea that he could possibly be taken from you was a phenomenon you’ve thought of for a while now. Knowing he has an existing life outside you, outside of this summer, that he would return you made you sick. You’re far from perfect, or the right thing for him, and he could find a safer option if he ever pleased. Pushing the thoughts away is harder than you imagine, so you cling to his side even more. 
You and Sunghoon use up your spare tickets for carnival games. You toss rings around bottles, shoot water guns into the mouth of a clown frame, and throw darts at balloons. The both of you aren’t very skilled at any of the games, but it's fun enough to enjoy the time without winning a prize to show for it. 
Eventually, Sunghoon does find frustration within the ‘rigged’ set up of the games. He even pulls out his wallet for cash when the tickets are gone. You’re surprised at how competitive he is; his determined nature is something that stirs your insides around. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so much in your life. 
After 3 rounds of throwing a ball to knock over a moving target, he does manage to win. Going 3 for 3 and not missing a single shot. The excitement you feel when he succeeds takes over and you’re proud, doing little jumps in place and clapping your hands together. 
“You did it! You won!” you exclaim, hugging onto his side. 
He can only smile down at your joyfulness. A fire burns in his heart and he hugs you back, kissing your forehead. “All for you. Which prize do you want?” 
“It’s yours, you should pick it,” you blush, elbowing his side with a shy smile while your eyes keep looking up to the stuffed white lamb with a lace ribbon around its neck and a cushion gold bell adoring the throat. 
Of course, that’s the prize he ends up choosing. It might not be Saint Michael the stuffed bear, but it’s something far happier, cleaner, and softer. 
The stuffed animal never leaves your hold throughout the rest of the evening. It rides the many rides you and Sunghoon do. And sits at the picnic table with you both as you share fair snacks. Popcorn and cotton candy was never so sweet for either of you. Like contentment melting on your tongues. 
Cliche as ever, Sunghoon wants to end the night there with a round on the ferris wheel. The line moves quickly and when it’s your turn to step into the carriage, he takes your hand and sits you down the seat next to him. 
It moves slowly and rocks back and forth with shaky movements that have you gripping the side handles. With an arm around your shoulder, he holds you close to him. The array of flickering colorful lights and people below you feels almost magical. 
Taking your eyes from the heightened difference between you and the ground, you look back to the boy beside you who is already looking at you. The reflection of rainbow luminescence glistens in his eyes. It’s even prettier than the view from the top of the little world you’re in. You give him a shy smile, finding it impossible to look away. 
He says your name in a whisper, taking your chin between your fingers. “Thank you for choosing to let me in.” 
Confused and wide eyed, you watch him lean into your face. You gasp when his lips meet yours before returning the notion. With eyes closed, you melt into his kiss. It’s sweet as all the things you’ve experienced today because of him. 
It’s also as clumsy and messy as a kiss can be for two people who’ve never done so before. However, human nature and desire take over and ease the rest for you both. Lips move over another in a gentle waltz, careful and slow. 
And as if the situation couldn’t get anymore cliche, fireworks light up the sky. At first you thought it was just your imagination and all the books you’ve read flooding your consciousness, but the booming sounds and cheers of the crowd are too loud to not be real. 
You pull away from him first, and he’s already wearing a shit eating grin so wide that you can’t help but roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back at him. Your face burns in both embarrassment and adrenaline from the kiss. 
After that, you don’t leave the city like you should. The bus takes you both back downtown but neither you or Sunghoon feel it’s time for goodbye. So, for the first time, he takes you back to his apartment. You’ve never been to anybody else's home before, and it’s nerve wracking to say the least. The complex is large and somewhat modern, housing many of the second and third year private college students.
When you step inside, it’s quite plain but at least clean. You’re immediately greeted by a boy shorter than Sunghoon. He has a big mouth smile and shining dark eyes. His hair is shaggy but it suits him. He’s practically bouncing on his toes. You shift yourself behind Sunghoon and hold onto his shirt, hiding slightly from the excited puppy-like roommate. 
“How did it go? Oh, and nice to finally meet you,” he rambles out quickly, “I’m Jake. The best friend and roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shoots Sunghoon a wink before grinning back at you. He extends a hand for you to shake but you don’t reach out. Something about his eyes doesn’t sit right with you. 
“She’s shy,” Sunghoon laughs a little as he guides you past Jake and towards his room. “It was fun though. I recommend going before it’s gone.”
“Ah, you got yourself a nice little angel, huh?” Jake leans over the kitchen island, watching you both. His smile falters. “I’ll have one of my own some day.” For some reason, you think of him as a secret pervert.
Sunghoon laughs his comment off and tells Jake goodnight before showing you to his room. His room is neat and as simple as a college boy’s room can be. A bed, desk, dresser, closet, and bathroom. One poster of a musician you’ve never listened to and a window with unopened blinds. 
You sit yourself at the end of his bed and he sits down next to you. There’s some awkward silence as you look around, unsure of what you’re supposed to do. He feels similarly to your internal dilemma. 
“I-I’ve never had-”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off. Of course he’s never had a girl over. And of course you’ve never been over to a boys house. 
“Are you tired?” he asks, and you lie by nodding your head. So you both get ready for bed. He gives you a shirt to borrow for bed that change into in his bathroom while he changes into sweats and a t-shirt in his room. 
In minutes you’re both laying in his bed under the covers and staring up at his ceiling in the dark room. Not a word is said as you both lay there wide awake and untouching. But you know he’s wanting to by the way his body is shifting and turning, inching closer with every minute movement. 
And before you know it, although expected, his body is nestled closely to yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. For the most part, he usually does keep his space. Knowing how you are when it comes to physical touch that feels too sudden or invading. But with barriers breaking down more over time, he thinks you’re learning to handle the comfort better. 
“I thought you were tired?” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. His hands trace up and down your arms that are wrapped around yourself like a guard. 
“I lied,” you whisper. Your eyes can’t look at him yet, so they remain aimless to the ceiling. Some moonlight slips through his cracked window blinds, giving you enough view of the spinning ceiling fan. 
“I had fun today. Mostly because you did. I like seeing you happy,” he smiles after kissing your shoulder that’s exposed in the neckline of his shirt too big for you. “And
 I liked when you kissed me back,” his voice is quiet and shy-like. 
“Do you want to do it again?” Your eyes shift to him and you can barely see the warm flush to his cheeks. He’s cute. 
Taken aback at first, he just blinks at you with a parted mouth. Then he nods his head slowly, licking over his lips. 
You turn over onto your side to face him and his hands don’t leave your waist. Unsure of what to do with your own, you wrap them around his neck. Good thing they sit behind him and it’s dark in the room because it would kill you for him to notice the slight tremor in your fingers. 
With a scarily racing heart and stiff, trembling body you surge forward to kiss him. His lips are quick to capture yours. Soft and pillow-like, they mold into yours in waves. What starts off as clumsy and unskilled turns into hunger. Something desperate and needy. His grip feels bruising to your hips but in a nice way. In a way you want it to hurt more. 
His nails digging further into your flesh to keep you impossibly close make your lips gasp, or maybe it’s the lack of air, or just both. And instinctively his tongue is licking its way past your lips and into your mouth. He kisses you like he’s starved for it. His wet tongue drags over yours, and your teeth, then as far as it can inside of you. He whimpers, pressing his already hard cock to you as he licks and kisses you open. 
Your stomach has never burned this way before, and you feel the hot sensation all over then down to your core that aches like it’s hungry too. You feel disgusted by yourself but can’t fight the hum you make as you devour him right back. You’re getting wetter every second he’s in your mouth. 
This time, he pulls away first. Panting for air and staring at you with glazed over dark eyes. He licks over his wet lips again, savoring the taste of you on himself. He bites down onto it and a part of you wishes it was you he sunk his teeth in. 
“Can I do what I did last time?” he breathes out, his hips involuntarily jerking up against you at the thought alone. 
While trying to act like you’re not catching your breath too, you say quietly, “do whatever you want.” 
He kisses you again but with more desperation. You try to do the same but you can feel your heart and your head preparing for battle. The way he’s feeling you up and grinding himself on you is in no way unwanted, and that’s part of the reason you’re struggling to maintain presence. 
It’s so much happening so quickly, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine this happening eventually. Sex was inevitable. The way his body yearns to be one with yours makes you feel special almost. He’s already engraved into you but in his mind he has to be inside of you and it hurts so badly how you think the same. 
But is the last thing that keeps him pure really yours to take? You’ve stripped so much away from him for all the wrong reasons before and now it feels strange. You are no good and that’s all he is. 
The only thing keeping you here, in the moment, is him. His exploratory and gentle yet rough hands, his body grinding into you, his lips that can’t leave yours or your skin for even a second, and the weak wanting sounds that leave them. 
“I need more, please. I want- I need to feel good with you. Please,” he’s whining into your ear. Then pressing kisses along your jaw and neck that are all so tender, slow, and deliberate. Large hands caress you like you’re breakable, as if not already just a body of fragmented pieces made whole and called a person. 
Your still shaking hand reaches down between your two bodies and slips past his sweats. He had the nerve to go commando and you wish you could tease him, but you can’t. You’re lucky you’re even here right now and breathing his air. Your hand wraps around his aching length and gives him a few tugs to which he’s quick to moan. He kicks off his sweatpants while you bring him closer to you. The plush of your thighs trap him; he whimpers against the soft heat of your flesh. 
Your hips grind up into him once, showing him what he should do too. He’s slow to start, rocking himself between your thighs. Slutty and hopeless sounds leave him in a string of his want. His leaking hard cock is so close to your core. Only the thin layer of your underwear keeps him from feeling your clear need for him too. 
Wrapped in each other's arms, you bury your head to his shoulder. You can feel the pulse of his aching desire rubbing and grinding against you. It makes you shiver in sensitivity and cower further into his neck. You don’t bite down onto your lip, but his neck. There’s a sting to your eyes because you hate it—the wet warmth that pools out of you. Your sin sticks to your underwear and your skin like the red raining life of all the animals you made leave the earth; your haunting subconscious correlates with your growing pleasure. 
You know you’re not religious yet every time Sunghoon touches you there’s a divinity to it and it makes your hands want to join in prayer to thank the universe for sending someone like him to you. Because his hands roam your body as if they have in every world; as if there is not one timeline where you have not been made for him. Like you were carved from his rib every time. 
Your body smolders in that angry way it always did whenever Sunghoon got too close to you. Whenever his words were too kind, his touch too gentle, or god forbid when he just smiled at you. That fire is just the divine nature of your relationship, lighting up everywhere he touches and leaving flames in the wake. You thought it was your body rejecting his purity, but you were only denying the likeness. He made you feel good. And in the most ironic way possible. You just didn’t think you deserved it. 
Yet an anguished moan leaves you, rumbling against his skin as you bite down harder. Regardless of it all, he is yours right now. 
The feeling of your sinking teeth in him, the sounds you’re now making, and the damp heat between your legs he can’t stop chasing all makes his head spin. He bites down onto you just the same and it only makes you moan louder. 
“Please,” he’s whining again through the bite. His voice a needy tremble while his hips stutter and thrust between your legs that only squeeze tighter together. The way the fat of your legs hug his raging cock through his desperate grinds makes him chase more and more for that feeling he just can’t seem to reach. The crying tip kisses and pushes up then past your leaking folds every time. It drives you both insane. 
If your body is the fiery lake of creation's deepest pit, then he is the cleanest ocean of earth’s highest point. If anyone could extinguish you, and possibly make you feel whole, it was Sunghoon. 
This is the most horrifying reality you’ve come face to face with. Not just intimacy, but a stronger driving emotion. You have to open yourself, rip open your chest and bare your beating heart in all its naked vulnerability. Let it scream out I like being with you. You have allowed this person into your world that nobody else has dared to step foot in. To see you in such ugly ways yet still extend their arms for you. It’s a terrifying level of closeness that you’ve never once experienced and you don’t know what to do with. You’re beyond perplexed by what he’s done to you, in both terror and awe.  
You pull back from Sunghoon and he pauses everything for a moment to look at you, noticing your wet eyes. Before he can ask what’s wrong you reach down and slip off your underwear. You shift your body and maneuver him as best you can until he’s on top of you. Rattled with concealed embarrassment you remove his shirt and toss it somewhere to the floor, and he does the same. 
You take a deep breath and reach back down to his cock, lining it up with your pussy. You blink and swallow away all the things trying to stop you from allowing yourself him. Pliant beneath him, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to you for a quick kiss. Foreheads now pressed together with lips ghosting over the others, you tell him, “I hate you.” 
Sunghoon only smiles down at you before kissing you once more. With his arms caged around you, he slowly pushes himself forward. The fat tip of his cock fails to go through you, only sliding up and past the wet folds. He whines feeling the warm slick coat the head; his entire body shudders. He nearly cums from that alone. 
He looks at you confused, and nod once while trying to shift your hips around for a better angle. It’s not like you to be so quiet during things like this. It only tells him that for once, you’re nervous about new things the way he was. 
So he tries again, this time a little rougher. He thrusts his hips forward, the tip pushing past the tight walls but still barely in. You whimper at the intrusion and the feeling of you being stretched open. Your hands squeeze hold onto his biceps for purchase. 
The tight sensation of your pussy squeezing his tip feels otherworldly to him. He can’t help but need to sink deeper into you. His cock pushes in further at an agonizing pace until he’s as deep as he can possibly go. His arms shake while he tries to maintain his strength and keep himself from collapsing onto you completely. The wet walls that surround him flutter and try to pull him further inside, making him feel lightheaded. His moans are so needy it’s almost like he’s crying from the feeling. 
“Oh, f-fuck!” you whimper. Having Sunghoon completely inside of you feels so full. You’re stuffed with him and it hurts so good. “You gotta move, Hoon. Feels like you’re splitting me open.”
“You're so tight, mm.” His hips stutter from your words alone and he whimpers again. He pulls himself out halfway while your gummy walls kiss around him in an attempt to suck him back to be filled again. He begins to rock himself in and out of you. It’s inexperienced and awkward, but he gets the hang of it quickly. Doing what feels best for him and what seems to be the best for you too. 
“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” you whisper harshly, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. It all burns while feeling like heaven. Never have you been so full, held so gently, or seen than this summer. You bite back the breaking moans and whimpers. You claw at his skin. You even begin to cry when your hips can’t stop chasing his thrusts. 
“I love you too,” he whispers back. A kiss is pressed to your forehead as his cock pistons you. Sunghoon is smart enough to know you’re a liar. Your mean words that used to hurt him, he now understands. You’re not really a bad person. And you don’t hate him. You were just really damaged and if he’s damned for trying to heal that then he’s fine with that too. 
“I mean it,” your body shudders, feeling his tip pound so far and deep in places inside you that you didn’t know reachable. His fat cock drags out and forces through your tight hole, making you cream all over him more and more. The sounds that leave your body, the sounds your bodies are making, it’s so obscene. Fighting off the disgust and focusing on how he makes you feel is war. It’s so hard for you to win. 
“No you don’t,” he shifts himself to sit on his knees, taking your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He leans forward and kisses both of your cheeks before fucking himself into you again, only harder and faster than before. 
“Ngh,” you moan again through broken sobs, blinking away the tears as you stare up at him. “I’m t-trying to.” 
“I know, baby.” he mumbles before capturing your wobbling lips into a searing kiss. “It’s okay, haah, don’t cry. You’re good. You’re so good for me,” he says against your wet lips. You can only sniffle and try to turn your head away from him in your embarrassment. “No, no.” he takes your chin with his thumb and finger, forcing you to look back at him. His thrusts never letting up during his care. “Look at me. You’re so good to me.” He reminds you over and over. “We’re so good together. I’m yours. you’re mine.” 
“Say it again,” you sniffle through little sounds of sin. Your hand finds a place on his cheek, and your thumb rubs over his lips that wear a smile. 
“You’re so good, good for me. We are so good together. I am yours. And you are mine,” he says softly. His eyes are so filled with love, and if you could see your reflection in his then you would know yours are too. “Say you’re good, baby, it’s okay.”
“I’m good,” you sob through your whimpers, “I’m yours.”
To Sunghoon, the idea of sex was always sacred. Something that’s only done and shared between lovers bound by marriage of the church. But now, he thinks differently. He knows that there is no shame in him loving you now or years later. And he was more than happy to make love to you all night until you believed it too. 
 Perhaps there was a thing such as divine intervention and if God’s timing was alway right, he knew how to be evil with it too. Because the next day, when Sunghoon takes you home, he’s met with your maker. 
Your mother, aware of the frequent trips you’ve been making and how close you’ve grown to the summer farmhand boy, is quick to make a call to your father the night you don’t return home. It wasn’t necessarily because she cared for your well being. You’re more than capable of handling yourself. But it was an excuse to try and get him to come back. Only it doesn’t go how she wanted.
When you see the reverend’s car parked in front of your house, your heart drops. Sunghoon picks up on your tension, He sees how you go blank at the sight and slowly turn back into the empty girl he met months ago. He tries to hold your hand but your fingers can’t move, can’t return the embrace. 
When the reverend walks out of the house with his infamous weapon of sacrificial forgiveness, you know what to do. Your body moves on its own, leaving Sunghoon to reach out for you that walks towards the woods. He goes to follow you and the desolate man that stalks behind, but your mother stops him. She’s hysterical as she drags him towards your house saying, “it’s going to be okay.” But she’s crying. 
Once out of their sight, the reverend takes you by the hair. He yanks your head around, pulling you towards that cursed tree. He’s uncharacteristically rough and your scalp screams for a release but you don’t show it. You don’t even look at the man. Not even when he’s tossing your body to the ground. 
“So you’re whoring around with my employees now, huh? Was ruining this farm not enough for you?” His words mean nothing to you. You dust off the dirt and go to stand again, but he kicks you back down. You tsk under your breath as he speaks again, “I’ve seen all the things you’ve done. Seen you leave my barns with red hands and smile. Cut heads off chickens like an anatomy project. Is he next? That church boy?” 
Now you look up to glare at him. Seeing the reverend was aggravating enough, but to say something about Sunghoon was infuriating to you. “I am not a killer. You are! And those animals were already dead.” You spit at his black leather church shoes. 
“Oh, you disgusting little devient,” he laughs lowly, untying the rope from the tree. “Your cruelty shouldn’t bring you joy. Sick and twisted, I should’ve dealt with you sooner regardless of what your drunk bitch mother protested. I can save the boy when you’re gone.” 
“What?” you shuffle backwards from him, angry and confused as he stalks closer to you until you’re backed against the tree. “All those things I did was because of you. Your righteousness made me rotten!” Your hands shake, gripping at the dirt ground for anything to make the fear stop. You glance up to the empty tree branch then the rope in his hands. Where is the lamb? You think briefly before it hits you. “You’re crazy,” you whisper, “I will not be your martyr
 not now what I’m finally-”
“Condemn me to Hell for all I care,” he crouches down in front of you, “This is the last time I’ll be a killer.” He throws the rope to your lap and tells you to tether yourself. 
“Why do you hate me?” The words scratch at your throat. When you were younger, you did want the reverend to hate you. It was when he noticed you most, and it’s all you really knew. But now you’re older, and his disdain never made sense. 
You can’t bring yourself to move even if you wanted to. Was this His plan? To allow you one good thing in life before ending it? Was ruining Sunghoon your final sin? 
The rope shakes with your fingers as you stare down at it. The twine of the rope burns over the palm of your hand where Sunghoon carved his promise. Your throat feels dry, tight and suffocating; choking on everything you’ve ever done. And your eyes still puffy from the night before well with tears all over again. 
“I just do,” he thinks of slicing your neck open right there. So fuck tying you down, you were always secretly another lamb anyways. He raises his knife and the metal sits cold under your chin as he lifts your head up to look back at him. 
“Okay
” you swallow. 
Your eyes squeeze shut and so does your mouth, as you raise your head to the sky with an exposed throat. Why isn’t this easy? Unlike the animals, you do know what’s coming. And it’s scary. Scary not because of death, but because you aren’t ready. You haven’t told Sunghoon goodbye or that you love him back. And the thought of him finding something in this world to hate, is such an ugly feeling to die with. 
And then there’s a loud noise. A booming bang, followed by unsteady feet falling back and the ground rumbling with a thud. 
You open your eyes and your father is on his back clutching his abdomen. He coughs and gasps before raising his hand. It’s dripping in deep red. And you can’t help but smile with tears in your eyes as you exhale a jagged breath.
You turn your head and Sunghoon stands there with the shotgun in hand, open mouthed and wide eyed. 
“Sunghoon!” you scramble to your feet and run over to him, taking the gun from his hands as he’s frozen in shock. 
“H-he was going to- he was about to hurt you. I had to-!” he stutters, his eyes already crying and hands shaking, still feeling the weight and recoil of the gun. 
“It’s okay,” you coo softly. “Just- go back to the house and I’ll be right there, okay?” You rush out. Still in shock and dazed, he blindly trusts you and does as you say. 
When he’s no longer close by, you walk over to the reverend with a blank face. You stare down at him as he tries to crawl away, dirty and bleeding. The smile you make doesn’t reach your eyes. 
You point the gun back down at him, and place your foot over the shot wound Sunghoon created. The man gasps and tries to swat at your leg but you only press the gun further into his face, making him surrender. 
“Divine intervention, huh? Say it with me now. I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your voice is quiet, calm, and mocking of his tone. With the barrel to his forehead, you watch him writhe in pain and cough up a little blood. 
“Go to Hell,” he spits his words like venom. 
“If you say it, I’ll let you live. But if you show your face to me or Sunghoon again, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes.” Your foot presses down harder. You can feel that angry little girl inside of you jumping with joy.. Knowing his God demands to be bled for, and making him know the sacrificial suffering, well it feels good to say the least. “Say it. With me. Now.” Each word pronounced with the growing applied pressure to his shot wound. And then he begs for forgiveness. He’s never seen you smile the way you did when he was below you with those words. Empty eyes were never so alive for him either. He cries and chants ‘I know no punishment, only mercy’ over and over. It was like the most beautiful hymn.
 There wasn’t much to be said about that day. Sunghoon and you just pretend you shared a nightmare. Neither of you talked about it. It was just another thing that tied you together. 
Sitting there in the peak of summer’s heat. A day before Sunghoon returns to college classes. Birds chirp. The leaves of the tall trees thistle in the light breezes that pass by. Sunghoon sits criss crossed and while you have your feet hanging off the edge of the dock, kicking in the water. 
“I’m sorry,” you break the silence. Shocked, he looks over to you. He never would have expected you to apologize for anything. “I was selfish when I approached you. I wanted to take all that goodness out of you and keep it for myself. I thought I wanted to hurt you, but after sharing all this time with you, I realized I was wrong. It’s weird to say it out loud,” you laugh small, awkward, “but I really am sorry. I love you more than even I know.” You stare down to your feet in the water that has gone still. A tear falls from your eye, and down to your cheek. 
“I know. I love you too,” he wraps an arm around your waist. “But now the same sins bind us.” You hiccup silently and turn to look up at him. “Harvest all of my purity, farmer’s daughter.” 
For the first time, you really laugh. It’s bright and loud like the big smile he’s seeing for the first time on his favorite face. It’s morning sunlight that whispers through trees to kiss the forest floor. Birds that sing songs of hope to awake life into a new day. Nostalgic, expansive days of childhood where the concept of time doesn’t exist. To him, you look like the epitome of summer; he doesn’t want this season to end. 
You were never the lamb. Or the wolf. Not an animal at all. Nothing like the ones you grew up with. You were just a girl, scared and alone. But not anymore. Because it’s your last day on this farm, and tomorrow is the first with only Sunghoon. 
“Your humor is poetry.” you continue to laugh until tears prick your eyes all over again. You love it. 
“It wasn’t supposed to be funny.” he looks away shyly, blushing. It only makes your giggle more, but you stop to press a kiss to his cheek. He blushes harder. 
“I’ll keep doing it, harvesting all of your purity, for as long as you’re good.” you say with a smile. 
“Do you promise? I am always good, especially with you, so it could be a long while.” He bumps your shoulder playfully with a laugh. 
You take his scarred hand in yours and you laugh like he did, pure and true, “I do.”
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heeluvv · 2 days ago
Text
𝐓𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✶⋆.˚
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pairing ☰ tutors! jayki x student! reader
genre ☰ smut
warnings ☰ fingering, pussy eating, masturbation, handjob, teasing, etc.
natty’s notes ☰ request, mdni, hate comments will be deleted.
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honestly, you still didn’t understand why you were required to take a japanese class. it wasn’t that you hated the language—if anything, it was one of the ones you had actually been interested in learning. but the one thing that completely sucked the excitement out of it?
your infuriating professor.
she made the class insufferable, her teaching methods feeling more like a punishment than a learning experience. she wasn’t necessarily unfair, just cold, strict, and utterly indifferent to whether you sank or swam. and right now, she was making it very clear that you were sinking.
you stood by her desk, hands gripping the strap of your bag, shifting uncomfortably under her stern, emotionless gaze. her face was unreadable, lips pressed into a firm line, her sharp eyes boring into yours like she could already see your failure etched in stone.
“honestly, y/n, there’s not much I can do for you.”
her voice was flat, impassive, delivering the words with no sympathy, no concern, just a matter-of-fact finality that made your stomach tighten with frustration.
“you have until the end of this semester before I have to withdraw you from this class.”
she spoke as she gathered her belongings, meticulously organizing her papers before slipping them into her bag, completely unaffected by the way your chest tightened at her words.
you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes too hard.
if it weren’t for your parents breathing down your neck about your grades, you wouldn’t have even cared about being withdrawn. but they did care. and you wanted to prove them wrong—prove to them that you were capable, that you could actually excel in something.
but you were running out of time.
“um
” you cleared your throat, your voice coming out less confident than you wanted. “is there
 any tutors that I could get the contact info for? or maybe extra materials? please—” you exhaled, swallowing your pride as you looked her straight in the eye. “i beg you, just
 don’t withdraw me.”
your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag, anxiety settling heavily in your chest as you waited for her response, praying she would actually give you something to work with.
she let out a heavy sigh, the kind that made it painfully clear she wasn’t all that invested in your success—but at least she was giving you something. rummaging through her desk drawer, she pulled out a small stack of business cards, thumbing through them before finally selecting one. her fingers paused over the worn edges, as if she had done this countless times before, handing desperate students the same lifeline when they had nowhere else to turn.
she slid the card across the desk, and your eyes immediately locked onto the names printed at the top—nishimura riki & park jongseong.
underneath, their contact information was neatly listed, along with a small, minimalistic logo indicating they were official, independent tutors.
“these are the tutors I recommend you reach out to,” she stated, voice still as emotionless as ever. but then she paused, tilting her head slightly before adding, “though be aware that the school does not provide financial support for their lessons. you’ll have to pay them yourself.”
your fingers tightened around the card, already feeling your wallet crying in protest.
tutors weren’t cheap—especially ones that were highly recommended. but at this point, what choice did you have?
your grades in every other class were flawless, sitting comfortably between 96-90%, a perfect record marred only by this one class, this one miserable 45% that threatened to ruin everything. you couldn’t let that happen. you wouldn’t.
so, right then and there, you made your decision.
“thank you so much.”
your voice was firm, resolute, appreciative despite the sinking realization that you were about to go broke for the sake of passing this class. still, you bowed slightly—a gesture of gratitude you rarely extended, but this was a rare moment of kindness from a woman who never once showed it.
clutching the card tightly, you turned on your heel, already feeling your mind swirl with possibilities.
who were these tutors?
and more importantly—what had you just signed yourself up for?
it had been a week since your extra japanese lessons with riki and jongseong began, though he had quickly insisted you call him jay as the three of you grew more comfortable, less formal. but any sense of familiarity disappeared the moment your lessons started—because when it came to teaching, they were unyielding, demanding, and relentless.
“do it again, y/n.”
jay’s voice was calm but firm, his sharp gaze fixed on you as you struggled to pronounce the sentence correctly. his patience was there, but only barely.
“it isn’t right. you have to listen well, doll.”
that nickname—doll.
his voice wrapped around it like silk, low and effortless, the pet name rolling off his tongue with a casual intimacy that sent a sharp tingle down your spine.
you tried again, but your tongue fumbled, the syllables coming out clumsy, and before you could even process your own frustration, riki was already speaking.
“relax, kitty.”
kitty.
the name had snuck its way in subtly over the past few days—a slow, deliberate progression from innocent teasing to something far more intimate.
“what’s wrong? you seem more out of it today.”
his tone was lighter than jay’s, more teasing, but still expectant, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure how to give.
because how could you explain it?
how could you explain the way your body betrayed you every time they spoke to you like that?
the small gestures that were casual, but never accidental—the way riki’s fingers would linger a little too long when passing you a pen, fingertips brushing the inside of your wrist, tracing just enough to leave a trail of heat.
the way jay would lean in too close, his hand ghosting over your lower back, resting there for a second longer than necessary, warm and grounding.
and now?
now it was the sweet pet names, soft and intoxicating, slipping from their lips so effortlessly, completely unbothered by how wrecked they left you.
you didn’t mind it.
but your body?
your body made it far too obvious.
every time they called you something cute, every time their voices dipped just a little lower, your cheeks would heat up instantly, a burning flush creeping up your neck.
your thighs would press together without thinking, a shameful, automatic response you tried desperately to suppress.
but the worst part—the absolute worst part—was the way they had started whispering in your ear.
you didn’t know why your ears were so damn sensitive, but the moment their breath ghosted against your skin, the moment their lips came close enough to brush against the shell of your ear—
it was over.
your entire body would jolt, a sharp shiver running down your spine, goosebumps rising along your arms as you fought to keep yourself composed.
and when it became too much—when the air between you grew too thick, too charged, too unbearable—you would abruptly excuse yourself, mumbling something about needing the bathroom, heart pounding, body burning, needing even just a moment to breathe.
but deep down?
you knew they had already noticed.
and so they tested it.
you sat right next to jay on the couch, the warmth of his broad frame pressing against your side, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. at first, you had been thrown off by the fact that their lessons were held at their apartment rather than a more formal setting, but you never questioned it. maybe you should have.
riki sat across from you, a notebook resting loosely on his lap, but his sharp gaze wasn’t focused on the pages. no, his attention was fixed entirely on you, his eyes raking over your figure, studying you like he was searching for something.
your stomach twisted slightly, an unfamiliar nervous energy settling in your chest.
because if you were being completely honest—these were the hottest tutors you’d ever had.
they carried themselves with an effortless confidence, an aura that was undeniably magnetic. the way they moved, the way they spoke, the way they played off each other so seamlessly—it was almost unfair how well they complemented one another.
riki was the playful one, always teasing, always smirking, always testing just how flustered he could make you before you snapped.
jay, on the other hand, was demanding, firm, relentless. he would make you repeat yourself over and over, pushing you until your pronunciation was flawless, sharp, precise.
and right now?
right now, both of them were watching you struggle.
your throat felt dry as you lowered your gaze back to your notes, your fingers gripping the edge of the paper tightly. you tried again, attempting to pronounce the phrase correctly, but the words came out shaky, uncertain, hesitant.
because this time—it was harder.
this time—jay was closer.
his sharp gaze bore into you, his presence looming, his breath warm against your cheek as his eyes flickered from the side of your face down to your notes.
and then—his hand.
you barely registered it at first, the way his palm came to rest on your lower back, fingers spreading slightly, his grip firm, grounding.
but the second you did, your body tensed instinctively, the heat of his touch burning through the thin fabric of your shirt.
he wasn’t moving.
he wasn’t pulling away.
he was just holding you there.
keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
“oh, you sound so fucking cute, doll.”
jay’s voice was dark, velvety, each word dripping with mockery, amusement, and something far more dangerous. his breath fanned against your skin, the heat of it sending a violent shiver straight down your spine.
“what’s wrong?”
his lips pressed against your ear, the warmth of them searing, sending your senses spiraling into overdrive.
“am i teasing you too much?”
his voice was barely above a whisper, yet it felt thunderous, making your breath catch in your throat, your pulse hammering beneath your skin.
“you can’t take it?”
a sudden, slow flick, the tip of it grazing the shell of your ear, warm and wet and deliberate, dragging along the sensitive curve before running smoothly down the length.
your body jerked, a sharp, strangled whimper tearing through your lips before you could even stop it.
it was loud, clear, undeniable.
jay chuckled, low and satisfied, his lips still pressed against your ear, savoring the way you had completely melted under his touch.
“you don’t think we notice, baby?”
your breath hitched violently, the teasing lilt in his voice sending heat pooling between your thighs.
“the way you rub your thighs together when you think we’re not looking?”
your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassment flooding you, but it didn’t matter—because they had already seen everything.
“the way your skirt always rides up when you sit on this couch—”
jay’s fingers ghosted over your bare thigh, tracing light, lazy patterns, just enough to make you squirm.
”—only to get up and leave a wet patch behind?”
your entire body flushed hot, a wave of humiliation and arousal crashing over you all at once.
riki, who had been watching in silence, let out a low chuckle, shifting slightly where he sat, his eyes glinting with something wicked.
“did you really think we wouldn’t notice, kitty?”
you swallowed hard.
they had been paying attention all along.
before you could even process the overwhelming heat of jay’s breath against your ear, another sensation sent a violent shudder through your body—a second pair of lips, warm and teasing, pressing against your other ear.
riki.
his breath was heavier, thick with something raw, unfiltered, a deep, gravelly hum of satisfaction slipping past his lips as he leaned in closer, closer, closer—until you could feel the low grunts vibrating against your skin.
your entire body tensed, every nerve alight with desperate need, your pussy clenching involuntarily at the sheer sound of them.
you could feel the evidence of your arousal, your slickness spreading, seeping onto your inner thighs, dampening the fabric of your panties, clinging to your heated skin.
“what do you think about that gets you so fucking wet, baby?”
riki’s voice was silky, slow, edged with amusement, his fingers gliding down from your jaw, tracing along your collarbone, ghosting over the exposed skin peeking through your slightly disheveled school shirt.
had it been this loose before?
or had they noticed the way you subconsciously tugged at it, the way you unknowingly tried to expose more skin, craving their touch before you even realized it yourself?
his fingers barely skimmed the surface, teasing over the delicate fabric as if testing how far he could go before you completely crumbled.
“you probably think about us fucking you so hard, baby, hm?”
jay’s voice came low, dark, unforgiving, each syllable dripping into your ears like poison.
“wanting our dicks so deep inside you?”
your breath hitched sharply, the vivid imagery in his words sending a sharp, nearly unbearable ache straight to your core.
“or do you think about the way we’d finger fuck you so well—”
jay’s fingers danced lower, trailing over your stomach, stopping just before they reached where you needed them most, his touch hovering, taunting, cruel.
”—feeling you clench around our fingers, so fucking desperate to cum all over them, hm?”
a broken, shaky breath escaped you, your thighs pressing even tighter together, but it was useless.
because they had already noticed everything.
you couldn’t take it anymore.
the aching heat between your thighs was unbearable, an insatiable fire burning deep in your core, demanding relief—demanding them. you tried—desperately, hopelessly—to create some kind of friction, rubbing your thighs together, squeezing them tight, but it was pathetic. useless.
it wasn’t enough.
it would never be enough.
“please
”
the word slipped from your lips in a soft, wrecked whimper, your voice barely above a breath, pleading, helpless, needy.
their hands were everywhere, slow and teasing, fingertips grazing over your exposed skin, tracing lazy patterns, skimming over your arms, your waist, the dip of your thighs—but never where you needed them.
you squirmed, writhed, arched into their touch, your body betraying you completely.
“please what, baby?”
riki’s voice was low, dark, dripping with amusement, his words vibrating through you, making the heat pulse even stronger, deeper, sharper.
his eyes raked over you, intense, unreadable, his gaze settling on the way your legs clenched together, your body fidgeting with desperation.
“what does the princess want?”
he knew.
he fucking knew.
and still—he wanted to hear you say it.
your breath hitched, your lips parting, quivering, shame and desire twisting inside you, making your stomach tighten with longing.
“touch me, please
”
the words were barely audible, fragile, broken, as if even admitting it shattered whatever restraint you had left.
and the second they left your lips—jay and riki exchanged a glance.
a knowing glance. a dangerous glance.
jay was the first to break, his restraint snapping like a frayed thread, his movements slow but deliberate as he sank to his knees before you.
his hands glided down your thighs, fingers spreading over your skin, thumbs pressing just lightly enough to make you shiver. the warmth of his palms sent a shockwave through your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he gently but firmly parted your legs.
the moment you were fully exposed to him, he stilled.
his jaw clenched, his dark eyes locked onto the mess between your thighs, the way your slick had completely soaked through your panties, the way your inner thighs glistened under the dim light.
you were dripping, ruined, so fucking wet for them that the sight alone had his breath staggering, his self-control crumbling.
“holy fuck—”
his voice was low, strained, laced with something raw and primal.
his fingers hovered, barely grazing the damp fabric of your panties, the delicate material completely drenched, clinging to your folds like a second skin.
he let his fingers linger, running a slow, lazily teasing stroke along the seam, feeling how sticky, how completely soaked you were, his touch coming back slick and glistening.
his fingers pressed down just slightly, not enough to give you what you needed, but just enough to make your hips twitch, your breath hitch, your body ache for more.
“so fucking wet—fuck
”
his voice came out hoarse, almost dazed, as if he couldn’t quite believe how wrecked you already were for them.
he dragged his fingers up one more time, watching how easily they slid over your slick-covered panties, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, heavy-lidded, intense, completely locked in.
“all this for us, huh, baby?”
his smirk was pure sin, his fingers still teasing, still lingering, still refusing to give you what you were so clearly begging for.
jay’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your soaked panties, his movements agonizingly slow, dragging the flimsy fabric down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.
he made no move to remove your skirt, instead lifting it just enough before pushing himself underneath, as if the idea of you still being partially clothed only fueled his hunger more.
his breath was hot, teasing, suffocating as it ghosted over your exposed, dripping cunt, the warmth sending a violent shiver straight through your spine.
his tongue flicked out, licking broad, wet strokes over your folds, no hesitation, no build-up—just pure, unrelenting hunger.
“oh—fuck!”
a loud, broken moan was ripped from your throat, your body jerking violently, hands flying out in search of something—anything—to ground yourself.
but the only thing within reach was riki.
your fingers clamped down on his thighs, nails digging in, gripping hard, using him as leverage as waves of pleasure crashed through you.
“you like it, baby?”
riki’s voice was smooth, teasing, dripping with dark amusement as he watched your wrecked state.
“love the way jay is making you feel, huh?”
his hands fumbled with his belt, undoing it with one swift motion, his pants falling to his thighs as he pushed his boxers down next.
his cock sprang free, thick, heavy, flushed an angry red, the tip leaking with precum, twitching with every subtle movement.
before you could even register it, he was already grabbing your wrist, guiding your trembling hand towards him.
he wrapped your fingers around his length, the warmth of your palm making him groan lowly, deep from his chest.
“just like that, baby.”
his fingers covered yours, guiding your hand down his cock, then back up, slow, torturous strokes.
your touch was hesitant at first, but the moment you felt the throb of his veins, the sheer heat of him pulsing against your palm, thick and overwhelming—you squeezed slightly.
his breath hitched, sharp and ragged.
“uh—fuck.”
his head tilted back slightly, his jaw clenching as he let you pump him slowly, the pace still dictated by his hand over yours.
his head tilted slightly, his lips still pressed against the shell of your ear, his breath ragged, heavy, each exhale sending waves of heat coursing through your veins.
a deep, low groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against you, his body tensing as the pleasure surged higher.
“fuck, baby
”
his voice was gritty, strained, filled with something dark and unfiltered, and the sound alone made your fingers tighten instinctively around his cock.
his movements against your hand grew rougher, needier, his hips jerking forward, pushing himself deeper into your grip, chasing more friction.
“what are your parents gonna say, hmm?”
his tone was mocking, teasing, utterly shameless, his lips grazing your heated skin, enjoying the way your body twitched, trembled, clung to every syllable that dripped from his tongue.
“being eaten out and fisting my dick in your hand like a good girl—”
his grip on your wrist tightened, his hips grinding forward, forcing you to stroke him faster, harder.
”—just for your tutors, huh, baby?”
his words sent a violent shudder ripping through your body, your entire form tensing, burning, aching, the filth of his voice intertwining with the relentless, sinful pleasure that jay was unleashing on you.
loud, helpless cries tore from your throat, your body completely at their mercy, caught between the wrecking force of their touch.
jay’s tongue was devastating, licking, flicking, sucking your clit mercilessly, his lips sealing around the sensitive bud, his tongue moving in tight, endless figure-eights against your cunt.
nonstop. precise. cruel.
“so fucking sweet, baby—fuck
”
jay groaned against you, his voice muffled against your folds, his grip tightening around your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted you.
riki’s cock throbbed against your palm, thick and heavy, his body shuddering under your touch, the sight of you falling apart beneath them only making him ten times harder.
“jay!”
your cry tore through the room, loud, desperate, completely wrecked as he slammed three fingers into you at once, the sudden stretch making your entire body jolt against the couch.
your walls fluttered, struggling to adjust to the sudden intrusion, but jay gave you no time to recover.
his fingers moved instantly, expertly, setting a steady, merciless rhythm, curling just right, pressing against that deep, devastating spot inside you.
your thighs trembled violently, muscles clenching as his tongue and mouth never once faltered, sucking, licking, flicking over your swollen clit, his mouth working in perfect sync with his fingers.
your hips jerked up, completely out of your control, grinding against his face, chasing more, needing more, your body fighting to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure.
but the pleasure didn’t just stop there.
your hand tightened around riki’s cock, your strokes growing faster, rougher, every motion slick and effortless from the precum leaking down his length.
“oh fuuuck, doll—don’t stop.”
riki’s moan was loud, ragged, his chest heaving, his breath coming out in short, heavy huffs, his head tilting back against the couch, exposing the long curve of his throat.
his abs tensed, flexed, his fingers digging into your thigh as he thrust into your hand, his body rocking in sync with every stroke, completely unraveling under your touch.
the sounds in the room were obscene—jay’s muffled groans, the wet, messy sounds of his fingers pumping into you, curling, stretching, wrecking you.
riki’s low, breathless curses, the slick drag of your palm up and down his cock, the way his hips jerked forward, his need for relief just as desperate as yours.
you were losing control.
and they were loving every second of it.
the coil in your stomach twisted, tightened, pulled impossibly taut, the sensation so intense it had your hips jerking back desperately, fucking yourself onto jay’s fingers, chasing your release.
a low chuckle vibrated from beneath your skirt, the sound dark, amused, completely in control.
“that’s it, doll.”
jay’s voice was muffled, drenched in satisfaction, his fingers curling deeper, faster, sharper, pressing against that spot with every precise thrust.
but riki—riki was falling apart just as fast.
his moans grew louder, more raw, his breath coming out in jagged, uneven gasps, his cock twitching violently against your grip.
“oh fuck—fuck, baby—”
his voice broke, deep and wrecked, his hips snapping forward, fucking into your palm, completely at the mercy of your touch.
“i’m gonna cum—fuck, i’m gonna cum—”
his head tilted back, exposing the long line of his glistening throat, his lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, his entire body shuddering violently.
his cock throbbed aggressively, the final jolt of pleasure hitting him hard, sending thick, hot ropes of cum spilling over your hand, painting your fingers, dripping down his stomach in messy streaks.
he groaned, low and breathless, his fingers digging into your thigh, his entire body tensing as the aftershocks tore through him.
the warm, sticky evidence of riki’s release covered your hand completely, thick ropes of cum coating your fingers, dripping down your palm, the sheer mess of it making your stomach twist with something filthy and overwhelming.
his cock twitched violently, still spilling out more, more, his breath ragged and uneven, body shuddering beneath your touch.
but it was the final pulse, the last desperate throb against your palm, that tipped you over the edge.
your orgasm hit like a lightning strike, a sharp, suffocating wave of pleasure that ripped through every nerve in your body, blinding, consuming, devastating.
“fuck—”
your thighs clamped down hard around jay’s head, trembling uncontrollably, your entire form jerking, writhing, completely at his mercy.
“fuck yeah, baby—just like that.”
jay’s voice was gravelly, thick, dripping with satisfaction, but he never stopped.
his mouth sealed tighter around you, his tongue working even faster, greedier, messier, as if he could drink you in completely, pull every last drop of pleasure from your body.
his groans vibrated against your core, the sound deep, guttural, completely wrecked, sending aftershocks pulsing through you, making your thighs shake even harder.
his hands gripped your hips, forcing you even closer, pressing you into his mouth, making sure you had nowhere to run from the overwhelming sensation.
“mmm, fuck—”
he was moaning against you, slurping, sucking, devouring, his tongue flicking fast, unrelenting, determined to lap up every single drop, to prolong your high until you were nothing but a shaking mess beneath him.
he was obsessed with the way you tasted, the way you trembled, the way you completely fell apart for them.
and even as your body shuddered, completely spent, completely wrecked—they still weren’t done.
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natty’s notes ☰ 💗 anonnnn i hope you liked it !
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00valentina-writes00 · 1 day ago
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I read the cheating with Abby, Ellie and Sevika... And I was curious how the situation would be if it was reversed. If they were the ones caught with someone else. If Reader was the one who was betrayed.
Yea. Okay so I did Drabble the headcanons cause yeah!
â™Ąâ™„ïžŽ Sevika/Ellie/Abby cheating on you â™„ïžŽâ™Ą
Warnings: walking in on them cheating, mentions of cheating, angst
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♡ Sevika ♡
The apartment is quieter than usual when you step inside, the scent of cigar smoke lingering in the air, mixing with something muskier, filthier. It’s late—too late for her to have company. Your shift ended early, a rare break in your schedule, and all you wanted was to come home, kick off your boots, and collapse into Sevika’s arms.
Instead, you hear it.
A moan. High-pitched, breathy, unmistakably not yours.
Your stomach drops.
You move before you can think, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor as you push the bedroom door open. And there she is—Sevika, between someone else’s thighs, her broad shoulders flexing as she holds the woman down, tongue buried in her like she’s starving. The other woman gasps, head lolling to the side, eyes wide when she spots you.
Sevika doesn’t notice at first. She’s too fucking into it, too focused on making this stranger cum.
Then she looks up.
And for the first time since you’ve known her, she looks scared.
“Shit.” She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, jaw tightening as she sits back on her knees, her muscular frame still wedged between the woman’s thighs. There’s no excuse she can give you. No way she can explain this away.
You don’t say a word. You just stare.
Then, without another thought, you turn and walk away.
And she doesn’t even try to stop you.
♄ Sevika doesn’t chase after you immediately. She sits there in silence, hands running over her face, knowing she just lost the best fucking thing in her life.
♄ She doesn’t sleep that night. She smokes a whole pack of cigars, drinks herself half to death, replaying the look on your face over and over.
♄ The next day, she tries to find you. You won’t answer her calls, won’t respond to texts. When she shows up at your friend’s place, you don’t even come to the door.
♄ Sevika doesn’t beg—but fuck, she wants to. She’s never been the type to grovel, but for you? She would. She just doesn’t know where to start.
♄ She sends gifts. Flowers, your favorite liquor, a stupid note that just says “I fucked up.” But you don’t want gifts. You wanted loyalty.
♄ She drinks more than ever. She’s a wreck without you, picking fights at The Last Drop, snapping at anyone who even looks at her wrong. She knows it’s her fault, but that doesn’t make the guilt any easier.
♄ She shows up to your job. Not to cause a scene—just to see you, to see if there’s even a chance you’ll look at her again.
♄ She tells herself she doesn’t deserve another chance. But that doesn’t stop her from wanting one.
♄ Eventually, she shows up at your door, sober, broken, and finally ready to say it— “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you, but I can’t fucking stand this. Tell me how to fix it.”
♄ If you take her back, she changes. No more fucking around. No more slip-ups. She works to earn your trust back because losing you once was bad enough—she won’t survive losing you again.
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♡ Ellie ♡
The apartment is supposed to be empty. That’s what you thought when you got home earlier than expected, kicking off your boots at the door and shrugging out of your jacket. You’re exhausted, ready to crawl into bed and let Ellie pull you into one of her lazy, warm embraces.
But then you hear it.
A desperate, breathy whine.
Your heart stops.
You take slow, careful steps down the hall, and the second you reach the bedroom door, you wish you hadn’t.
Ellie is there—naked, flushed, and wrecked—her freckled face buried in the crook of some other woman’s neck. Her hips snap forward in an erratic rhythm, the pink strap slick with someone else’s arousal, her breath ragged and uneven.
“Fuck—fuck, you feel so good,” she whines, gripping the woman’s hips, completely lost in the moment.
And then she sees you.
For a second, she freezes. The color drains from her face, her mouth falling open in shock.
“Shit.”
The other woman turns, looking between the two of you, but you don’t even register her. It’s just Ellie. Ellie, who is still inside someone else, sweat-slicked and guilty as fuck.
You don’t say a word. You don’t scream, don’t cry, don’t even breathe. You just shake your head, turn on your heel, and walk out.
She stumbles after you, nearly tripping over herself in her desperation.
“Babe, wait—please, fuck, let me explain—”
But you’re already gone.
♄ Ellie is a mess. She spends the first few hours pacing, hands in her hair, tugging at the strands as if she can rip the mistake out of her skull. She knows there’s no way to justify it—she fucked up and there’s no taking it back.
♄ She doesn’t stop calling. Voicemails, texts, all of them frantic, all of them desperate. “Please, baby, just let me explain—” “I was so fucking stupid, I swear to God I wasn’t thinking—” “I need to see you, please.”
♄ Ellie goes into full self-destruction mode. She drinks. A lot. Smokes until her lungs burn. She doesn’t sleep, barely eats, and isolates herself, refusing to go out or see anyone.
♄ She hates herself more when she realizes you’re really gone. Your side of the bed is cold, your clothes are missing from the dresser, your presence is completely wiped from the apartment. That’s when it really fucking hits her.
♄ She tries showing up at your place. Knocking, waiting, sitting outside your door for hours in the cold, hoping you’ll open it. You don’t. She knows she deserves it, but it still fucking kills her.
♄ She doesn’t hook up with anyone else. The idea makes her sick. She barely even remembers why she did it in the first place. No excuse feels strong enough—she just knows she ruined everything for something that didn’t even matter.
♄ Eventually, she writes you a letter. Because words don’t come out right when she speaks, and she knows she won’t get the chance to say them in person. It’s long, messy, covered in scribbled-out words and tear stains, but the message is clear: “I love you. I never stopped loving you. And if I have to spend the rest of my life regretting this, then so be it. I just needed you to know that.”
♄ If you agree to see her, she doesn’t try to win you back with excuses. She just stands there, looking like absolute shit, and says, “I don’t deserve you, but I’ll never stop wishing I did.”
♄ If you take her back, she changes. No more slipping, no more fucking up. She makes damn sure you never feel unwanted again, and if it takes years to earn your trust back, she’s willing to put in the work.
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♡ Abby ♡
The outpost is quiet when you return earlier than planned, the sun barely setting over the edge of the stadium. You were supposed to be out longer, supposed to still be on patrol, but an unexpected shift change sent you back early. You’re exhausted, ready to collapse into Abby’s arms, maybe steal a lazy kiss before passing out.
You don’t expect to hear her first.
Low, breathy, a sound you know too well—Abby’s moans.
Your heart pounds as you step into the room, your boots feeling heavier with each step. The door is cracked open, candlelight flickering inside, casting shadows against the walls.
And then you see her.
Abby. Naked, skin flushed, her powerful legs trembling as she grinds against another woman. Their bodies press together, slick and desperate, muscles flexing as they fuck each other like they don’t have a single care in the world.
“Fuck—fuck, just like that,” Abby groans, hands gripping the woman’s thighs, her abs tensing as she moves.
Something inside you shatters.
Your breath catches, and Abby hears it.
Her head snaps toward the door, sweat-slicked skin glistening under the candlelight. The second she sees you— sees the absolute devastation on your face— her entire body tenses.
“Shit,” she whispers, immediately pulling away from the woman beneath her.
But it’s too fucking late.
Your throat feels tight, your vision blurring as the weight of what you just saw settles in. You can’t even speak. Can’t breathe.
You turn on your heel and walk out.
“Wait—wait, babe, please—” Abby stumbles off the bed, scrambling to grab something—her clothes, the blanket, you.
But you’re already out the door.
♄ Abby doesn’t even try to lie about it. She knows there’s no excuse, no way to spin it. The second you walk out, she just sits there, face in her hands, realizing she just lost the best thing she’s ever had.
♄ She tries to find you immediately. She throws on her clothes, leaves the woman in bed, and sprints through the stadium like a madwoman, searching every corner, every hallway, desperate to explain.
♄ When she does find you, she looks wrecked. Eyes red, breathing ragged, voice hoarse from saying your name over and over. But all you do is stare through her like she’s nothing.
♄ She can’t sleep, can’t eat. She spends every night replaying the look on your face, every second of her mistake looping in her head like a fucking nightmare.
♄ She stops training. No more weightlifting, no morning runs—nothing. Her routine falls apart because the only thing that kept her going was you.
♄ She refuses to be with anyone else. She knows she doesn’t deserve you, but she’d rather be alone forever than ever touch someone else again.
♄ She tries to prove herself in small ways. Leaving your favorite snacks where you’ll find them, making sure your gear is in top condition, standing guard at your door at night without you knowing.
♄ If you agree to talk, she’s a fucking mess. Voice shaking, hands trembling, on the verge of breaking down when she says, “Please, just let me fix this. Let me fix us.”
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katebishopsbaefy · 2 days ago
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oh my god 4 and/or 12 with billie i would die🙏
(also i love your writing sm💕)
prompt list
4) slow sex while one or both are injured
words: 607
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“This is so dumb
 This is so dumb
” she mutters to herself over and over and over. It’s starting to drive you insane.
“Billie, it’s not dumb. It was bound to happen at some point,” you snap, a little harsher than you meant you. When tears fill her eyes, your heart just about shatters.
She’d broken her ankle. Again. This must’ve been, what, the fifth time? It just wouldn’t stay healed, especially not with all of the jumping around she did on tour. She already knew the drill, all the icing and physical therapy and extra precaution that comes with the injury, and she was dreading it. In fact, you both happened to be sitting on the couch, icing her foot like the doctor had told you to do often.
“It is dumb. I didn’t- I don’t understand-” Billie starts, but her tears slowly start to take over.
“Oh, Bil
” you whisper quietly, your voice softening at the tears leaking down her cheeks. You know how hard this has been for her in the past. You hate to see her go through it again. You can’t move her much because you don’t want to jostle her foot, but you reach a gentle hand out to wipe her tears. “Hey
 it’ll be fine, I promise. We’ll just
 have more time to hang out. That’s not that bad, right?”
When you soften, she softens. She looks up at you with tearful, red eyes and shakes her head, her bottom lip protruding in a small pout. She looks adorable. Miserable, but adorable, and you can tell you might be getting through to her a little. “We can watch so many movies, and you can teach me how to crochet, and I can teach you French, and we can rearrange the whole house
 it’ll be fun. I think you need a good break, anyway.”
At all of the suggestions, she can’t help but crack the tiniest, most heartbreaking smile you’ve ever seen. The look alone could make you cry. You cup her damp cheeks in your palms, and softly kiss the tip of her nose as you return the smile. “Can I getchu anythin’ right now?”
She sniffles softly, and her gaze leaves yours for a brief moment. Not for long, though. She’s not one to get very embarrassed when asking you for things. “...Can you take care of me?” she asks in a small voice.
If it’s possible, you soften even more. You can tell what that look in her eyes means; it’s not really about the sex. She just wants to feel close to you. And you want the same thing. “‘Course, baby. Here
 lie down
”
It takes a long moment of giggles and almost falling off the couch, but you manage to get her situated with her back propped up against the armrest of the couch with the ice still on her foot. You slowly climb over her and rest your head on her chest, your finger on her clit. You rub soft circles into her, being so incredibly gentle with her. That’s all she deserves: gentleness. When she sighs, you can tell you’re doing a good job. Your lips trail over her neck, not hard enough to leave marks, but just enough to give her even more comfort.
“M’gonna come,” she mumbles through breathy moans and sighs, her body starting to tremble softly under you.
You kiss your way up to her lips, and mumble soft reassurances against them. They might be within the context of the sex, but you really mean them in the context of the long healing journey ahead of her. “I’m right here.”
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estrellacercadelvolcan · 1 day ago
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I LOVE them!!! Bucky is so hot and the way she handles everything is awesome!
Oh and when you told us about how different the bond can feel to different couples, that was SO interesting.
Soft music drifted from the ballroom as you stepped into the lavish venue. You’d never been to a gala before. Your family wasn’t wealthy enough to receive an invitation, nor did your last name carry any influence. The only reason you were there tonight was because of the alpha on your arm, all thanks to your boss’s insistence that you accompany him.
I'm not even sure if I would want to be there. Because of her BOSS?! No, that doesn't sound good.
You had designed a few of the dresses and suits, but none of the people wearing them would recognize you. The alpha you worked for always took the credit. Complaining about it wouldn’t help. After all, you’d only sound like an ungrateful omega and hundreds of other omegas would beg to take your place. You couldn’t wait for the day you quit.
I knew that I don't like him
“Then keep smiling,” Chet ordered through his grin. “What you do or don’t do is a reflection of me.”
If you act like a decent human being, I will smile.
You did notice a few more men looking your way. A few women as well, not hiding that they were whispering about you. Trying to hide your vulnerability, you held yourself the way you thought a goddess would. You also held yourself with pride since the dress you wore was your own design. A sleeveless black dress with a middle slit, it was bold and alluring. The glitter throughout the fabric made you shine like stars in the night sky. The finishing touch was the matching collar, a tasteful way to protect you from any alpha who even thought about marking you.
YES, act like the Queen you are! Don't let them make you feel worthless or insecure. The fact that she's wearing her own design is such an lovely detail; love it. Wait, a MATCHING collar? That's even greater! And the wish to be seen as an equal (in a relationship)? Yes, yes, YES!🎆🎊
“You’re my date. It’s my right to touch you,” he sneered. He had no right. It didn't matter if he was an alpha and he was rich. The urge to slap him across his face was so strong your palm itched. “So, get the stick out of your ass.”
Excuse me?! 😡With every second I despise this man more. The audacity! That's right, I DON'T want to sleep with you! Can someone please tell him that Women/Omegas aren't just a piece of meat to play with.
Navy your writing is excellent! I really can't stand him.đŸ˜€ Corretcion, Í can't stand THEM. And no matter what, I support her should she decide to throw a drink in their face.
Little question though - that growl, was that Bucky?👀
“And not that you’d have any extra cash to tip, but it’s taken care of,” he continues, your face hot at the assumption that you couldn't afford to tip the staff. “Just behave and try not to make a fool out of either of us, you got it? Wouldn’t want your boss to hear about it if you do.” Biting back a retort, you freed yourself from his grip. There wasn’t enough liquor at this party to get you through the rest of this evening. “Don’t worry about me, alpha. Go have fun,” you said, your eyes burning as he walked away.
Yes, please leave and you don't need to return either. By the way, I am able to pay my own drinks, thank you. And don't even get me started on those double standards.
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An intoxicating scent hit you out of nowhere, making you grip the bar as you inhaled. Plums, whiskey, sandalwood. The blended aromas had your mouth watering, and a whimper threatened to slip out. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Desire burned in your stomach. As quickly as the scent excited you, it seemed to wrap itself around you in a soothing embrace. How could a smell leave you hot and bothered and also feel like a hug?
Oh? He is here! Feeling like a hug? Aww, I love that.đŸ„°
Studies over the years showed that not every bound pair was the same. Some couples felt the bond instantaneously like a firework exploding. Others felt it like a small burn that slowly consumed them over time. For a few, the spark took a long time to ignite. You couldn't ignore this burn if you tried.
That's SO interesting! Please tell me more. Please, please, please?
You welcomed the slight chill in the air as you stepped onto the large balcony. It was lit up with sparkling lights, yet it didn’t take away from the stars that shone in the sky above. The alpha who caught your eye stood by the railing, alone, like he was looking over a kingdom. You felt foolish for going out there to bother him.
So powerful, why does he look so powerful. This description is one of my favorite parts of this story!❀
He didn’t look put off by your question, and he didn’t let go of your hand either. “I’ve come across a few delectable scents before, but I don’t think I’ve ever described anyone as divine,” he answered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. An intense longing behind his eyes had your knees weak. “I haven’t smelled anyone like you.”
Divine? How can he be so...?
He is lethal and noone can convince me otherwise. He accepts what she says but asks to be able to really understand her point of view. Moreover, he dosn't pity her for what happend.
He parted his jacket so he could look you over. Unlike Shane leering at you earlier, Bucky seemed to take in the details of your design with a careful eye. “You made this? It’s stunning,” he said with pride that rivaled yours. You lost your breath when he ran the back of his finger along your torso, heat spreading through your body like a wildfire. “Like you.
Perfect, just perfect. She is right, he IS dangerous.
He looked almost impressed with your answer. “I appreciate your honesty,” he praised, his thumb sweeping over your lips this time. “And it won't be enough. Once I get a taste of you, I won’t let you go.” “I’m going to want you every night.” He tilted his head when you shifted in your seat. “You feel it, don't you?” The low growl Bucky emitted made the nearby guests move away, but you weren’t afraid. “Ignore it? I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. I would've fucked you right out there on the balcony if that couple hadn't interrupted us,” he said, your body hot and needy at the thought of him fucking you while you looked out at the view. “I’m lucky finally finding you didn’t send me into a rut.”
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“No, it doesn’t,” he said. There wasn't even a whiff of fear, likely because he had nothing to lose. “In fact, I think you should quit your job and move in with me.
“And all that in exchange for what? Being your whore?" He snarled, and you were delighted to hear that sound. “Trust me, doll, you may want me to fuck you like a whore, but I’ll treat you like a goddess. Like my equal,” he replied, his promise touching something deep inside you and drowning out most of your fear. He looked vulnerable, too, as he moved closer. “I know it’s a lot to have to depend on me, but with me you wouldn't have to do this on your own. My finances don’t mean I have power. You’d have power, too,” he said. You wanted to believe you would. “In fact, I think you’re the only person in this entire city who could bring me to my knees. That’s power.”
Okay, wait that's a bit fast. I won't be depending on your money or mercy.
I love that during this whole conversation, he really listens and doesn't just brush her off.
“What the hell are you doing? I said enjoy the free booze, and do not embarrass me. You can't even follow a simple instruction,” he snapped. You refused to bare your neck when he showed his teeth. He wasn’t going to embarrass you either. “The only reason you can even step foot in this place is because of me. You fucking sl-”
No, please GO AWAY! And how dare you to call her a slut?!
“She’s my mate,” Bucky said through his teeth, making Chet’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Biology may say you’re an alpha, but you’re nothing. And I’m tempted to crush your windpipe for insulting her.” He squeezed harder and smirked when Chet wheezed. “When her boss asks how the gala went, you’re going to sing her praises. If you don't, I’ll hunt you down and make sure you can never knot anyone ever again. And that’s just the start of what I'll do to you.”
Yes, show him that he shouldn't mess with her. So hot đŸ„”
“Thanks for the free booze, Chet. And don't worry about me getting a ride home. I think you should worry if that omega still wants you after your
 performance,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s. “Have a great night.”
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“Just wait until I tie you to my bed and get a real look before I fuck you. It’ll be a shame to wreck something so pretty, but you’ll thank me for it,” he replied, looking back at the road as he sped up. Oh, you’d thank him over and over. “Touch yourself, but don’t put your fingers inside.”
You moaned, an image of you on your hands and knees flashing in your mind, Bucky’s strong hands pulling you back to meet every thrust until he locked your bodies in place. You could practically feel his teeth sinking into your neck to fully seal your fate. Or would he make love to you, linking your fingers together and kissing you with care as he tenderly pushed his knot in? It didn’t matter. He’d give you everything, and you wanted it all.
Wait what? He will what?😳
Ruind but also yes please
Okay, this is kind of long, but this story is so great!
Thank you so much for writing and sharing this with us!💜
Where Worlds Collide - Intro
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Pairing: Silver Fox!Sugar Daddy!Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Female Reader
Summary: Your boss forces you to be eye candy for an alpha at a gala, but things take a turn for the better when you meet another alpha. Does it matter that you don't belong in his world?
Word Count: Over 9.2k
Warnings: Smut, v. fingering, possessive behavior, dirty talk, instant connection, A/B/O dynamics, talk of bonding, misogyny, unspecified age gap, insecurities, world building, choking (not our reader
 yet), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: I'm pretty proud of the intro to this world, lovelies! @whisperlullaby, @targaryenvampireslayer, @tavners, here it is! Ant thanks to @queenoftheworldisdead as well. ❀ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Soft music drifted from the ballroom as you stepped into the lavish venue. You’d never been to a gala before. Your family wasn’t wealthy enough to receive an invitation, nor did your last name carry any influence. The only reason you were there tonight was because of the alpha on your arm, all thanks to your boss’s insistence that you accompany him.
It was an evening of style, grace, and luxury, and you didn’t belong.
You held your breath as you walked deeper into the ballroom, the glittering chandeliers casting a refined glow over everything. A mix of alphas, betas, and omegas socialized and gossiped, their glamorous evening wear glittering under the lights. You had designed a few of the dresses and suits, but none of the people wearing them would recognize you. The alpha you worked for always took the credit. Complaining about it wouldn’t help. After all, you’d only sound like an ungrateful omega and hundreds of other omegas would beg to take your place.
You couldn’t wait for the day you quit.
Chet’s grip on your arm brought you back to the present. “Keep quiet and smile,” he ordered, a haughty expression on his face as he led you through the place. You didn't want to judge all men named Chet, but you had pegged him as a douchebag the second he went in for his fitting and he was proving you right. You couldn't even enjoy that he was objectively handsome since his personality made him less attractive.
“I am smiling,” you said. Wrinkling your nose at the overwhelming mix of scents and expensive colognes and perfumes, you did your best to make your smile look natural. The servers looked like they were doing the same as they served everyone. It was strange how a room so enormous could make someone feel so small.
“Then keep smiling,” Chet ordered through his grin. “What you do or don’t do is a reflection of me.”
“I know,” you muttered. Because it was all about him and you were just his omega arm candy. You really should’ve demanded overtime pay from your boss, but that conversation wouldn’t have ended well.
“As it stands, perhaps I made the right choice by bringing you,” he said, nodding to a few older gentlemen. “I can smell their envy.”
You did notice a few more men looking your way. A few women as well, not hiding that they were whispering about you. Trying to hide your vulnerability, you held yourself the way you thought a goddess would. You also held yourself with pride since the dress you wore was your own design. A sleeveless black dress with a middle slit, it was bold and alluring. The glitter throughout the fabric made you shine like stars in the night sky. The finishing touch was the matching collar, a tasteful way to protect you from any alpha who even thought about marking you.
Reaching up instinctively to run a hand over your collar, you felt your heart ache. Your inner omega wanted a mark, but the thought of being tied to someone was somewhat terrifying. You respected omegas who wanted to go the traditional route by staying home and being submissive, but you didn’t want to be submissive outside of the bedroom. You wanted a partner who would view you as an equal.
Your false confidence didn’t last long when Chet’s grip on you tightened, your body immediately going stiff. You’d have to take a long shower and dry clean your dress just to get rid of his scent. “Loosen up,” he ordered.
“Maybe I’d loosen up if you weren’t digging your fingers in,” you whispered.
“You’re my date. It’s my right to touch you,” he sneered. He had no right. It didn't matter if he was an alpha and he was rich. The urge to slap him across his face was so strong your palm itched. “So, get the stick out of your ass.”
A shiver rolled down your spine when you heard a low growl come from another alpha. Glancing around, you didn’t see anyone looking directly at you. It probably had nothing to do with you because why would anyone care if an alpha was bossing you around?
Chet’s hold on you loosened nonetheless. “And just so we’re clear, you have no intention of sleeping with me?” he asked as an omega in a revealing dress sauntered by. Your date didn’t bother to hide how he was undressing her with his eyes.
“That’s right,” you said. You made it clear to your boss that sex wasn’t an option, and he was oddly on your side. Maybe he thought Chet could sway you if he tried hard enough. If he even thought of using some sort of alpha command on you, nothing would stop you from lashing out and making him sorry.
“Then you’ll have no problem finding your own ride home should I choose to leave with someone else,” he said.
“So, I can’t make you look bad, but you can leave with another omega?” you asked.
“You got it. You’re smarter than you look.” He tapped your nose with a condescending grin. “And here I thought you were just a pretty face.”
The prick was pushing his luck. “Listen you-”
“Chet, my boy! Good to see you!” A man interrupted, uncaring that you were speaking.
“Shane,” Chet smiled. “Always a pleasure.”
The bulky alpha shamelessly looked you over, his scent almost making you choke on your next breath. “And who might this be?”
“Pretty, isn't she?” Chet cut in before you could answer, puffing his chest out. “Doesn't say much, but I’m not exactly interested in her conversational skills, am I?”
You bit your tongue when they chuckled. Be seen and not heard. It was insulting.
“Come join me, but leave the omega,” Shane said unapologetically, taking another look at your chest. What would happen if you threw a drink in his face? “As entertaining as she would be, we have business to discuss, and we don’t need the distraction.”
“Of course,” Chet smiled, turning you toward the bar as Shane walked away. “Since he doesn't want you around, why don't you take advantage of the free drinks until I get back?”
“I’m not-”
“And not that you’d have any extra cash to tip, but it’s taken care of,” he continues, your face hot at the assumption that you couldn't afford to tip the staff. “Just behave and try not to make a fool out of either of us, you got it? Wouldn’t want your boss to hear about it if you do.”
Biting back a retort, you freed yourself from his grip. There wasn’t enough liquor at this party to get you through the rest of this evening. “Don’t worry about me, alpha. Go have fun,” you said, your eyes burning as he walked away. A few heads turned your way when your scent soured. It wasn’t enough that you had to attend an event where you didn’t belong, but your date just had to rub salt in the open wound by reminding you of such. “Fucking asshole,” you muttered, making your way over to the bar to order a drink.
Plastering a smile back on your face when you got the bartender’s attention, you ordered a whiskey on the rocks. You wanted something that would go down smooth but leave a little burn. You also preferred opting to watch the bartender make a drink in front of you instead of grabbing a glass of already poured champagne. The drinks were likely fine, but better safe than sorry. And like hell would you accept a drink from your sorry excuse for a “date” if he offered you one. He was lucky you-
An intoxicating scent hit you out of nowhere, making you grip the bar as you inhaled. Plums, whiskey, sandalwood. The blended aromas had your mouth watering, and a whimper threatened to slip out. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Desire burned in your stomach. As quickly as the scent excited you, it seemed to wrap itself around you in a soothing embrace. How could a smell leave you hot and bothered and also feel like a hug?
No
 It couldn’t be your mate.
You caught a small movement out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped breathing when you found a pair of blue eyes fixed on you that belonged to a devilishly handsome man. He leaned against the wall, his wool-blend black suit fitting his thick body like second skin. Streaks of gray lined his luscious brown hair and peppered his beard, too. He looked like the kind of alpha who would have omegas kneeling at his feet, and it frightened you how badly you wanted to get on your hands and knees and crawl toward him.
His. Mine.
Lifting his tumbler to his lips, he kept his eyes on you as he sipped the expensive liquor. You wanted to look away but couldn't as the air crackled between you. He had you under some sort of trance you couldn't snap yourself out of. As frightening as it was to have a scent hit you so strongly, a feeling like this hit you square in the chest, the thought of him staring at another omega that way nearly made you hiss because you didn't want anyone else on the receiving end of those blue eyes.
He smirked like he read your mind and pushed himself off the wall. You did whimper out loud when you realized just how large he was. Dominant, assertive, yet there was something almost playful in his smirk when he finally broke his gaze. You greedily inhaled with the hope of catching more of his scent when he strode toward the nearby balcony, smooth and fluid as a server quickly took the empty tumbler from his hand. The men at the gala were all posturing, but no one could match the confidence of that alpha.
So how were people not surrounding him, begging for a scrap of attention? Was he untouchable among those who deemed themselves untouchable? He certainly didn’t look like the kind of man who chased after anyone. No, people went to him.
He wanted you to follow him, right?
Downing your drink in one gulp, your feet moved before you could stop yourself. “I don’t need this alpha,” you whispered, the words bitter in your mouth as you followed his path. If you were smart, you’d walk the other way and not look back. Yet the thought of never seeing him again made your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to examine.
Does he know?
Studies over the years showed that not every bound pair was the same. Some couples felt the bond instantaneously like a firework exploding. Others felt it like a small burn that slowly consumed them over time. For a few, the spark took a long time to ignite. You couldn't ignore this burn if you tried.
You welcomed the slight chill in the air as you stepped onto the large balcony. It was lit up with sparkling lights, yet it didn’t take away from the stars that shone in the sky above. The alpha who caught your eye stood by the railing, alone, like he was looking over a kingdom. You felt foolish for going out there to bother him.
Steeling yourself with false confidence again, you walked over to stand beside him. You weren’t close enough to touch him, wanting to leave him a respectable amount of space. You could always use the excuse that you just needed some fresh air if he asked what you were doing.
Stealing a glance at him, you didn’t want to believe that you had a true connection with this man, that he could be your mate. No way would an omega like you be his match. Would he even want an omega like you? One with dreams to do more, be more?
“Beautiful,” he said, his voice thick like honey and the whiskey you drank. Of course, his voice would be a powerful weapon. But he wasn’t scenting you, or trying to tear your collar off, or doing anything to indicate that he felt the sort of spark you had. Maybe that was for the best.
“It is,” you sighed, looking out at the view. You couldn’t deny the beauty and how much easier it was to breathe since you weren’t surrounded by the suffocating bodies and scents. “It really is something.”
“I was talking about you.”
You whipped your head toward him so quickly you nearly hurt your neck. The flare of heat in his eyes hypnotized you again, but this time you didn’t want him to draw you in. A man of his stature, his power, he could chew you up, spit you out, and leave you a shell of yourself. But seeing him up close, his laugh lines, and the touch of softness in his gaze, you wanted to know all about him and the life he lived.
You were in so much trouble.
“Thank you,” you breathed.
“I don't think I’ve seen you at a gala before. I would've remembered you,” he stated. You weren't sure what to say to that. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky if you’d like.”
You blinked a few times. “You’re James Barnes,” you whispered, not having to belong in the inner circle to know who he was.
James Buchanan Barnes. One of the wealthiest alphas in the city, his family came from money and it was no secret that Bucky, as he liked to go by, wasn’t bound to anyone. People assumed that he didn't want to share his wealth with anyone beyond his charitable donations, or that he was either extremely picky in choosing a mate. And here he was talking to you. This was the man you thought could be your mate.
You were in way over your head.
“I am,” he said, looking at you expectantly.
It took a moment, but your name tumbled from your lips as you shifted toward him. He inhaled when a breeze rolled in and you hoped your scent got to him the way his scent got to you. The way his eyes darkened, it had. Your inner omega wanted to purr with delight.
Time stood still when he took your hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure,” he whispered, his lips brushing your knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind me being forward, but
”
“But what?”
You held your breath when he turned your hand and ran his nose along your wrist with a small growl. It was bold, intimate, possessive, and you got impossibly wet from the action. Had Chet or another alpha done that, it would've been a different story. “You smell divine,” he whispered against your skin.
You whined before your inner hackles went up, making him pull his mouth away immediately. He at least had some level of respect and sensed the shift in your stance. “How many omegas have you said that and done that to?” you asked when you had no right to feel jealous.
He didn’t look put off by your question, and he didn’t let go of your hand either. “I’ve come across a few delectable scents before, but I don’t think I’ve ever described anyone as divine,” he answered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. An intense longing behind his eyes had your knees weak. “I haven’t smelled anyone like you.”
This alpha was telling the truth, but he wasn't a boy scout either. He knew how to fuck, you could tell, and he likely broke hearts without intending to. You didn’t want to be the next victim if a quick fuck was all he was looking for.
“I haven’t smelled anyone like you either,” you admitted, grudgingly pulling away. His heady scent made it hard to concentrate. And standing close to a man who wore a suit that cost more than half a year’s rent was another reminder that you were a girl playing dress up, nothing more. “I should go. I shouldn’t be here.”
Bucky stopped you from turning away, his grip on your arms tender so you wouldn’t feel threatened. “And why is that?”
“Because I don’t belong here, and I don’t expect you to understand that,” you replied.
It was bad enough to let your guard down by following him out there, and you couldn’t let him seduce you more than he already had. You were lucky the very presence of him didn't trigger your heat. And how would your story end? He was a rich alpha, and you were a struggling omega. Was happiness really in the cards?
Your eyes widened when you heard the rumble in his chest, his scent producing a soothing aura that wrapped around you. Your lip trembled slightly as the rumble faded. Bucky could’ve let you walk away, yet he was comforting you. It made you want to cry.
“I may understand better than you think,” he whispered. Did he? Did he feel alone in that crowd of people there? “But help me understand why you feel that way.”
You rapidly blinked to keep the tears at bay. What was there for him to understand? “Okay,” you whispered back. The fact that he wanted you to talk to him meant something. “For starters, that crowd is kind of
 well, awful from the short time I observed and interacted with them. They think they’re better than everyone else because they have so much, but they have no right to look down on others.”
The people in the gala simply flaunted what they had without a second thought. Being there made you appreciate your friends and their genuine interactions more. They worked hard for everything they had. They wouldn’t have anything against people born with a silver spoon in their mouths if they showed a little humility.
Bucky's chuckle surprised you. “Money doesn’t equal class, and believe me when I say they aren’t worth taking up any space in your beautiful mind,” he said, giving you a small smile. “To be honest, I came out here to get away from them because, save a select few, they're fucking assholes.”
You found yourself smiling, too. No wonder he has been standing by himself. “Is that the only reason?” you asked curiously, reaching up to touch his perfect hair simply because you could.
He looked at you, a mixture of lust and something soft. Standing like this you felt like a couple. “I may have wanted you to follow me, and I’m glad you did,” he said, his tone calm and casual as butterflies filled your stomach. “You’re the first person I’ve considered approaching in a long time, but you looked a bit upset when you went to the bar. I didn’t think bothering you would win me any favors.”
You exhaled. Was he the alpha who growled when Chet gripped you too tightly? “I
” you shivered when another breeze rolled in.
He shrugged his jacket the moment he spotted you shivered. “May I?” he offered.
You hesitated. Bucky had a powerful scent, and how would it look to Chet if you wore another alpha’s jacket? Chet wasn’t your alpha, but he could run his mouth and get you in trouble with your boss. It didn’t matter that you wanted to quit one day. Today wasn’t that day because you financially weren’t ready. That was the excuse you made up in your head.
But your inner omega wanted Bucky’s scent to surround you and you replied in a small voice, “Yes, please.”
Bucky carefully placed the warm jacket around your shoulders. “I know the crowd bothered you for good reason, but who specifically upset you and how can I fix it?”
“My date,” you answered. You didn't have it in you to lie to him. It also wasn't up to him to fix it.
Bucky hummed, running his hands up and down your arms. It helped warm and relax you. “What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes landing on the collar around your neck. You wondered what he would do if your mating gland was exposed, and you had to push that thought away.
“His name is Chet and he’s discussing business with some alpha.” The change in his scent was subtle. He seemed too confident to be jealous, but he didn’t seem pleased either at the thought of you being with someone else. “They were extremely condescending, and I couldn’t exactly throw a drink in their faces or put them in their place since I’m just an omega.”
Bucky snarled quietly, his eyes blazing. “You’re not just an omega,” he said. He was upset on your behalf. Was he not like other older alphas who wanted omegas to be subservient? “Maybe I should have a chat with them.”
You purred before you could stop yourself. Bucky offering to stand up for you felt better than you wanted to admit. “You don't have to do that,” you said, running your fingers through his hair again. You wanted to soothe him the way he soothed you. “Besides, I’m not really on a date with Chet. He just wanted me to be eye candy for the night.”
Bucky almost snarled again, but raised an eyebrow instead. “And you agreed to that? I have the feeling you aren’t the arm candy type.”
You giggled. He was right about that. “Didn’t really have a choice thanks to my boss,” you told him.
“Your boss? What exactly do you do for work?” he asked carefully.
He asked a lot of questions, but you didn't mind since he seemed genuinely interested. Maybe he assumed you were an escort. “I'm a designer,” you answered, smiling to yourself. “At least, I want to be. I’m just an assistant at the moment.”
“Let me guess. Your boss is an alpha, makes you do the grunt work, and takes the credit?” he mused, humming when you solemnly nodded. “And he convinced you to come here tonight because Chet is a client?”
“Something like that. It was either that or I get fired,” you laughed bitterly. “And if he fired me I’d get blacklisted, then I’d have no job, no money at all, and I’d lose my tiny apartment and
”
His nose wrinkled when you trailed off. You were so embarrassed, and you couldn’t stop your scent from souring. Talking to one of the richest alphas ever about your problems wasn’t something you thought you’d experience tonight, but that soothing rumble and smell came out again to help you breathe easier.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” he said with a touch of firmness so you knew he didn’t pity you. You could take a lot of things, but not pity.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you said, smoothing out some of the fabric on your dress and not wanting to dwell on the topic. “I actually made this,” you told him. It was silly, but you specifically wanted to hear something nice from Bucky to make you feel better, which was bad. You shouldn’t want compliments from him or want him period.
He parted his jacket so he could look you over. Unlike Shane leering at you earlier, Bucky seemed to take in the details of your design with a careful eye. “You made this? It’s stunning,” he said with pride that rivaled yours. You lost your breath when he ran the back of his finger along your torso, heat spreading through your body like a wildfire. “Like you.”
Your mind raced, the heavy weight of his gaze pinning you in place. The longer you stood there, the more you wanted him. You had to snap out of it. “You’re dangerous,” you whispered, shaking your head as his hand fell away. “I should go inside.”
He stepped back, his eyes searching yours. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No,” you replied honestly. Some of his actions were forward, but he wasn’t pushy. He was the sort of predator who probably gently played with his food before he sank his teeth in, yet you weren’t completely afraid of the bite. “Though I’m wondering why you don’t have a date tonight. Keeping your options open?”
Maybe he really did want to live the bachelor life.
The corner of his lip tugged when you narrowed your eyes. “I come to these things to make a short appearance. That’s all,” he explained. Even the wealthy had obligations. “Unlike some alphas my age, I’m not interested in having a date for the sole purpose of eye candy. And because most of the people here are fucking assholes, I don’t usually find anyone to take home.”
“So, you aren’t interested in taking me home?” you tried to tease. If he said no, you could lick your wounds later since you’d likely never see him again. If he said yes, you
 Well, you didn’t know what you’d do.
He reached out and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close enough that you felt just how big he was. A shudder wracked your body, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you. “I’m very interested in taking you home,” he breathed.
You lifted your eyes to him, his desire matching yours. “I-”
A young giggling couple stumbled out to the balcony reeking of booze. They took a few steps forward and Bucky moved you out of the way before they could crash into you. The ferocious growl he let out made the laughter cease, but it had you purring like a bitch in heat. “Leave,” he ordered, keeping his arms tight around you. The underlying threat in that single word had the couple rushing back inside, but they had effectively ruined the moment.
“I think that alpha almost pissed his pants,” you teased to cut through the tension.
“He’s lucky he didn’t tumble over the railing,” he said, loosening his hold on you and taking in your expression. You felt naked under his stare. “You aren’t ready to leave with me just yet.”
“I’m still here with a ‘date’,” you reminded him to cover up any feelings or doubts in your mind.
Other than Bucky being wealthy, powerful, and smelling like a sinful kind of heaven, you didn’t fully know him. Something within you felt like you did, but going home with him for the night
 What if you disappointed him? What if he decided he didn't want you?
He gave nothing away as he stared at you while you felt like your eyes told him everything. It wasn’t fair how in control he looked when you were close to spiraling. “Let’s go sit inside,” he suggested, finally cracking a smile when your face scrunched up. “No one will bother us, and I’d like to keep talking to you even if you don’t decide to leave with me.”
“I guess it wouldn't hurt to sit with you for a few minutes,” you said, especially if he would keep others away from you.
His hand on your hip felt like it belonged there as he guided you back inside. The scents and mindless chatter didn’t bother you as much now, likely because all you could really smell and concentrate on was Bucky. Did his kisses taste like plums or whiskey? Both?
He brought to a corner near the bar, far enough away from the mingling crowd that you still felt a bit of privacy. You kept his jacket around you though the room was considerably warmer than it was outside, not quite ready to give it back to him. “Drink?” he asked, angling his chair so that his knees were touching yours. There was no table in front of you. Anyone looking would see how close you were.
“No, thanks,” you said. You already downed a glass of whiskey and your head was spinning thanks to him.
You felt his gaze on you for a full minute before he spoke again. “Your ‘date’ isn’t the reason you’re hesitating to leave,” he said, scratching along his beard. You bet it would feel wonderful between your thighs. “Is it me? Am I too old for you?”
You had to laugh. “You’re a gorgeous silver fox, so that isn’t the problem,” you said. Beneath the suit you knew he was in great shape, too.
He smiled a gorgeous smile, appreciating the compliment. “So it isn't my age. Do you think I won’t treat you well?”
“I know you’ll treat me well,” you answered, avoiding his gaze. You knew that in your core. “But I’m afraid of what happens in the morning.”
He forced your gaze back to him with a large hand. “What are you afraid of?” he asked, his thumb brushing your cheek.
Everything.
“I’m afraid if I get a taste of you it won’t be enough for one night,” you said, your heart pounding as he stared into your eyes. Like he was staring deep into your soul. “And it isn’t fair that you have that kind of power over me.”
He looked almost impressed with your answer. “I appreciate your honesty,” he praised, his thumb sweeping over your lips this time. “And it won't be enough. Once I get a taste of you, I won’t let you go.”
It wasn’t a matter of if with him, but when. “You couldn't possibly want me for more than one night,” you said. He knew you were just a struggling designer’s assistant and didn’t run with this crowd. You lived in different worlds.
“I’m going to want you every night.” He tilted his head when you shifted in your seat. “You feel it, don't you?”
You feigned innocence when he held your gaze, your heart racing. God, he had felt it. Was it an explosion, a slow burn, or something else? “Feel what?”
Bucky smirked, not at all fooled. “That you’re my-”
“Don’t say it,” you begged. Speaking the word would make it real and it wasn't something he could take back. “Because if you don’t want that or me, we can just go our separate ways and ignore it.”
He hadn’t marked you, and you hadn’t claimed him either. You didn’t know what it would feel like to have his knot, so you couldn’t possibly miss it. And neither of you would have to depend on the other. You could walk away with as minimal damage as possible, and you’d find a way to remain whole. So would he.
The low growl Bucky emitted made the nearby guests move away, but you weren’t afraid. “Ignore it? I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. I would've fucked you right out there on the balcony if that couple hadn't interrupted us,” he said, your body hot and needy at the thought of him fucking you while you looked out at the view. “I’m lucky finally finding you didn’t send me into a rut.”
You thought the same about your heat. “Bucky-”
“Our scents call to each other. We call to each other,” he said, placing his hand on your chest. How did your heart feel fuller from his touch? “Tell me you didn't feel a connection when you caught my scent and looked at me.”
“I felt something,” you admitted.
“And it compelled you enough to follow me outside, to open up to me,” he said. You couldn't deny that. “You may say you don’t belong here, but something inside you says you belong with me.”
“And that doesn’t bother you? Scare you?” you asked. Having mates could be wonderful, but what if he wanted that pull with someone who wasn’t you?
“No, it doesn’t,” he said. There wasn't even a whiff of fear, likely because he had nothing to lose. “In fact, I think you should quit your job and move in with me.
You looked at him like he suddenly grew another head. “Quit my job and move in with you?”
“Yes. Your boss doesn't deserve to have you as an assistant, and you wouldn't have to pay rent if you stayed at my place.”
You didn’t attempt to laugh off his request since he was completely serious. “You realize that sounds insane, right?” you added. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary though. Some couples who took their time building their bond still moved in right away.
“Insane would’ve been marking you the moment I saw you and dragging you home the way some alphas do,” he said.
You bristled. “It’s too soon for you to mark me,” you said, even as your mating bond throbbed.
“Don’t worry. I won't mark you tonight,” he assured you. Hurt crept up for a split second before he ran a finger along your collar. You visibly trembled and realized that he did want to mark you. He just wasn’t doing so tonight out of respect for you. “But you can still be mine in every other way until that day comes.”
You opened your mouth to argue. He hadn’t marked you, but you still felt owned. “You really think people want you with an omega outside of your tax bracket?”
“You think I give a fuck what they think?” His handsome face twisted in a scowl as he looked around. “And if they even think about insulting you, I’ll ruin them. It’s that simple.”
“It isn’t that simple,” you said.
“Why not? I know you're meant to be mine and you know it, too.” He touched your collar again, your mating bond throbbing almost to the point of pain. “You won’t need to worry about money or a roof over your head because I’ll give it to you. And a space to design your own clothes and make your dream come true.”
It sounded too good to be true, and nothing in this world was free. “I have my rent. If I break my lease-”
“I’ll pay what you owe.”
Your rent was probably pocket change to him. At least you didn’t have a roommate you’d have to worry about. It was always too risky to rely on someone else to help with bills and utilities. “And all that in exchange for what? Being your whore?”
He snarled, and you were delighted to hear that sound. “Trust me, doll, you may want me to fuck you like a whore, but I’ll treat you like a goddess. Like my equal,” he replied, his promise touching something deep inside you and drowning out most of your fear.
You just wished the remaining would fade away.
“I want us to be equals, but do you realize that you’d have all the power until I get my designs off the ground, right? I’d have to rely on your money, your roof over my head,” you said, swallowing the small lump in your throat. Did he realize what he was asking of you? To push aside the small amount of pride and independence you had? “I’ve done fine on my own and to have to depend on you is something else altogether.”
You hoped he at the very least realized how vulnerable you were right now by opening up more.
He looked vulnerable, too, as he moved closer. “I know it’s a lot to have to depend on me, but with me you wouldn't have to do this on your own. My finances don’t mean I have power. You’d have power, too,” he said. You wanted to believe you would. “In fact, I think you’re the only person in this entire city who could bring me to my knees. That’s power.”
You smiled a little. Could you really bring him to his knees? “As flattered as I am that you want to take care of me, do I have to decide tonight?” you asked. He was saying all the right things, and it was tempting, but there was so much to figure out beyond the living arrangements.
“We can discuss it more tomorrow if you’d like,” he said, looking around as you let out a breath. He had no doubt in his mind that you would spend the night. “Have you seen your date?”
You looked around, too, not at all worried when you spotted him. A complete contrast to how you felt at the beginning of the evening. “He’s
” You gestured to the bar where Chet was flirting with the loosely dressed omega from earlier and staring right down the front of her dress.
Bucky growled and swept his eyes over you, no doubt catching how you pressed your thighs together from the sound. A growl really shouldn't be that sexy. “Not a very faithful alpha, is he?”
“Well, he isn't my alpha, remember?” you pointed out. Someone like Chet would never be. “My boss only ‘suggested’ that I go with him tonight, and I made it clear I wasn't going to sleep with him.”
There was another hint of a growl before he smiled. “Wait right here. I’m just going to tell the young pup that you’re going home with me.”
You gripped his arm as he tried to stand. “Easy, old man. I didn't say I was going home with you,” you teased, knowing full well you were in fact leaving with him.
“Old man?” he smiled.
You shrugged. “You called me ‘doll’, which sounds like something an old man would say.”
“I think an old man is exactly what you need.” His eyes flashed with a deliciously dark promise that he was right and you’d enjoy every single inch of what he’d give you. “And you didn’t explicitly say you'd go with me, but we both know I’ve swayed you to go to my place.”
“You alphas are so cocky.” You refrained from rolling your eyes since he was right in this instance. “But maybe I should just stay here a bit longer and make you work for it since you want me so badly.”
He chuckled. “You’d rather stay here? Fine by me,” he said, leaning in close. “I’ll just slide my hand up your dress here and now and feel just how wet you are for me. I doubt anyone would notice if I made you come on my fingers. They’re too caught up in themselves.”
Your eyes closed when he touched your thigh. “You think I'm wet for you?”
“I know you are. I can smell it. Can practically taste it. You’ll let me taste you, won't you?” he purred, and you could only tremble as his hand moved higher, your legs parting to give him more access. “In fact, why don't I drag your ‘date’ over and let him watch while I lay you out and feast on your cunt? Show him what you'll never give him a taste of?”
You weren't sure if the pool of arousal was from the thought of Bucky eating you like a starved man, making that sad excuse for an alpha watch while he got you off, or both. You wondered what it would be like to taste yourself on his lips. “And why would you let him see what I look like when I come?”
He seemed to consider your question. “That’s a good point. He shouldn't see how you look when you come.” Bringing his hand to your face, your breath hitched when he caressed your cheek with such care. “But you’ll never have to hide that beautiful expression from me.”
“Hey!”
You pulled away from Bucky in time to see Chet storm over. “Shit,” you whispered when he furiously looked between you and Bucky. You were shocked smoke didn't come out of his ears.
“What the hell are you doing? I said enjoy the free booze, and do not embarrass me. You can't even follow a simple instruction,” he snapped. You refused to bare your neck when he showed his teeth. He wasn’t going to embarrass you either. “The only reason you can even step foot in this place is because of me. You fucking sl-”
Bucky was out of his seat before you could blink, his hand wrapped tight around Chet’s throat and cutting off the remainder of his insult. A few patrons gasped and stopped to watch as Chet clawed at Bucky's hand, but no one stepped in to help. The anger that poured off your alpha was enough to deter anyone from getting involved. And you were loving every second of it.
“She’s my mate,” Bucky said through his teeth, making Chet’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Biology may say you’re an alpha, but you’re nothing. And I’m tempted to crush your windpipe for insulting her.” He squeezed harder and smirked when Chet wheezed. “When her boss asks how the gala went, you’re going to sing her praises. If you don't, I’ll hunt you down and make sure you can never knot anyone ever again. And that’s just the start of what I'll do to you.”
It was almost humiliating how turned on you were by Bucky's dominant display. You thought you’d be an omega who wouldn’t want an alpha acting like, well, an alpha, yet his defense of you meant a lot. “Bucky.” You stood up and smiled when he looked at you, his anger shifting to something softer. “You can let him go.”
Chet fell to the ground and coughed once Bucky released him. Your alpha bared his teeth with a snarl and Chet showed his throat like an obedient dog. It was clear who the top alpha was.
“Apologize,” Bucky commanded. Not only did Chet cough out an apology while avoiding your gaze, a few others said “sorry” as well. That was how powerful this man was. And you wanted him more than anything.
“Thanks for the free booze, Chet. And don't worry about me getting a ride home. I think you should worry if that omega still wants you after your
 performance,” you smiled, linking your arm with Bucky’s. “Have a great night.”
There was no need to fake your confidence as you and Bucky walked out together. It didn't matter at the moment what they thought of you. All you could think about was how Bucky defended you, and how he called you his mate. It was out in the open. He

Oh, God.
“Thank you for defending me, but you do realize you just told everyone that I’m your mate, right?” you whispered. That gossip would spread before the night was over.
“Is that what I did?” he asked, smirking when you hissed and glared. “And you don’t need to thank me. He had it coming.”
The smirk was still on his handsome face as the valet brought his car around. What the hell were people going to say? He didn’t care what they thought and neither should you.
“Listen, Bucky, just because you
”
Bucky held your face in his hands, leaning in so close you felt his breath against your lips. His mouth barely grazed yours, carefully teasing you with the promise of what was to come. “Just because I what?” he rasped, and you swear you felt more slick stain your already ruined panties.
“You better get me off before we get to your place,” you said instead of finishing your original statement because you truthfully forgot all about it when his lips touched yours.
Your insides tinged with more heat and desire when he nipped your bottom lip. “You better say my name when I get you off.”
“Should I say Bucky or James?” you smirked.
“Bucky. Reserve the name James for when you’re upset or extremely serious,” he winked, thanking the valet before helping you into his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice.
“And you won’t mark me tonight?” you asked once he got up, touching the back of your collar to make sure it was still secure.
“We still have a lot to figure out before I mark you,” he said, leaning over as you sighed in relief. “But before we go
”
His mouth landed on yours, both strong and soft as he took possession of yours. The entire gala could've gone up in flames and you wouldn't have noticed since all you felt was him. You tasted his hunger when his tongue plunged inside, and there was a hint of desperation, too. He was starving for you and you moaned, deepening the kiss to show that you were just as eager.
You panted when he broke the kiss. “Don’t make me regret trusting you,” you breathed, your eyes once again giving everything away.
His nose bumped yours affectionately as he dragged his lips to your forehead. You didn't expect such a fond gesture from him, and you had to bite your tongue so you wouldn't blurt out how nice a kiss to the forehead felt. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss against your skin.
Your heart felt full, and your inner omega wanted to shout with joy. “Take me home then.”
Bucky sped off a moment later, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him. Your core ached as you looked at him, giving you a chance to once again take in his profile. The saying of aging like fine wine probably rang true for him. You imagined he was always good looking, but he was both rough and refined thanks to his age. People who said perfection didn’t exist clearly never saw him before.
“You like what you see?” he asked.
“I do, but you know that,” you answered, his jaw clenching when you pulled your dress up to reveal your legs. “And didn’t you promise to get me off before we got to your place?”
The sexual tension that had been building up spiked, and you sensed his need to claim you in some capacity was rising to the surface. “Give me your panties,” he ordered, giving you a sharp look. “Now.”
“You’re bossy,” you smiled, pushing your dress higher. He swore under his breath when you gripped your underwear and slid it off, your slick practically dripping from the flimsy fabric. No one ever got you that wet before. “But I kind of like it.”
He chuckled, licking his lips. “You like it because it’s me,” he pointed out, snatching the underwear out of your hand once it was within reach. You watched with a whine as he brought it to his nose and deeply inhaled. “Fuck
” he growled, bringing the fabric to the tent growing in his pants next and rubbing all over it in a filthy display. Watching him ruin his pants with the scent and slick of your pussy had you soaking the seat beneath you. “Spread your legs and show me that pretty cunt.”
You trembled when he took his eyes off the road. Pulling your dress over your hips, you obediently spread your legs and let him get a good look at what would soon belong to him. “You like what you see?”
“Just wait until I tie you to my bed and get a real look before I fuck you. It’ll be a shame to wreck something so pretty, but you’ll thank me for it,” he replied, looking back at the road as he sped up. Oh, you’d thank him over and over. “Touch yourself, but don’t put your fingers inside.”
Bringing your hand between your legs, you gasped at how sensitive you were. It was like you were in heat, but fully aware of your surroundings. “Like this?” you asked, moving your fingers along your folds.
“Just like that,” he whispered, his gaze darting between you and the road. You hoped one day he’d fuck your throat while he drove. “Now give me your hand.”
You presented your glistening fingers to him, giving him the opportunity to grip your wrist and suck the wet digits into his mouth. You felt his mouth water from your taste, the groan of arousal in his throat making you shake. He didn’t stop until he licked your fingers clean. “You taste just as divine as you smell,” he said, releasing your hand and reaching over to cup your mound. “And I need more.”
“I need more, too,” you moaned, his palm rubbing your clit and building that ecstasy within you. He teased your dripping hole with another finger, but didn’t push inside yet. You arched your hips, trying to get him to breach you. “Please.”
“That’s a good girl saying please,” he praised, finally pushing a thick finger inside. You clenched around him so tight, your body wanting more. “Fuck, you’re tight. And wet. Made just for me. Imagine how good you’ll feel once you’re stretched around my cock.”
“Want your cock,” you moaned, opening your legs wider. “Want your big cock inside me.”
“Yeah, you do. You want my big, bare cock in your soaked cunt,” he said, pushing another finger in, your slick coating them. You didn’t let anyone fuck you bare before, but you’d let him. “You want my knot, too.”
You moaned, an image of you on your hands and knees flashing in your mind, Bucky’s strong hands pulling you back to meet every thrust until he locked your bodies in place. You could practically feel his teeth sinking into your neck to fully seal your fate. Or would he make love to you, linking your fingers together and kissing you with care as he tenderly pushed his knot in? It didn’t matter. He’d give you everything, and you wanted it all.
“Are you hard just thinking of fucking of me raw?” you moaned, the need to rip the top of your dress open to reveal your breasts strong. No
 If your dress was going to get torn to shreds, he could do that himself. “Coming so deep inside me you’ll drip out of me days later?”
The next growl he let out was inhuman, his fingers curling until you cried out. “My good little omega has a dirty mouth on her,” he smirked.
“I do have a dirty mouth. You should fuck it sometime,” you smiled sweetly before your mouth fell open, his expert fingers fucking you deep. Talking dirty to him helped stamp down your emotions a bit, but they were threatening to surface the more he touched you. “Bucky.”
“That’s it. Say my name. Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded. Your back arched, gripping the leather seat until your hand ached. Your body certainly knew who owned you. “Tell me who’s going to take care of you.”
You bit your lip to hold back your whimper, your heart pounding out of control. No one took care of you. No one wanted to until tonight, and you hadn’t wanted that either.
He stopped moving his fingers, keeping perfectly still as you hissed in frustration. Was he really going to build you up and not let you finish? “Tell me,” he demanded again, gentler this time.
Your eyes burned, but you swallowed your pride. Again. “You, Bucky,” you whispered, trusting that he’d be an alpha of his word. “You'll take care of me.”
He cooed when you whimpered, slipping a third finger in and moving them again. “That’s my girl. My good omega. I know that wasn’t easy for you to say,” he praised, so proud of you. Part of you was proud of yourself, too. “Do you need to come?”
“Yes!” you cried out, desperately trying to ride his fingers as the pressure grew. You were so close. Just a little more

“Then do it. Get that slick all over my hand and seat,” he said, pushing against your bundle of nerves once more as your body locked up. “And say. My. Name.”
Waves of pleasure rolled through you, colors blurring your vision as you cried his name. Your eyes rolled back as the squelching sound of your cunt filled the car, his fingers helping you ride it out. You were drowning, unable to breathe until you broke through the haze. You felt ruined already by his fingers. Oh, his cock was going to destroy you.
“Fuck, that’s it. Give it to me. That’s my good girl. Can’t wait to feel that all over my cock.”
He only removed his fingers when you whined and licked your essence away with a low moan. The beautiful bastard still looked so put together, and hadn’t swerved once while he drove. “Holy shit,” you exhaled, your walls still fluttering. The orgasm took the edge off while leaving you wanting more. “Did I
 soak your hand?”
“You did,” he confirmed, your face hot. “Fuck, I’m going to need an entire weekend to eat your sweet cunt just to start,” he said, flashing you a smile. “And you make very pretty sounds when you come.”
You managed a smile as you slumped in the seat, your dress still bunched around your waist. “What do you sound like when you come?” you asked breathlessly.
“You’ll find out,” he promised.
You trembled again when he put his hand back on your thigh, your hand immediately covering his. You needed his touch to ground you, but didn’t want to say so. “I just realized something,” you said once you fully caught your breath.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“If you’re my mate but you haven’t marked me yet, and you plan to pay for
 well, everything for me for the time being,” you said, a laugh bubbling up when you saw that your window was fogged up. You drew a little smiley face, making you laugh more before you glanced at him. “You’re kind of like my sugar daddy.”
The look on his face before he laughed made him look younger, the sound affectionate and happy. How many managed to make him laugh like that? “Does that mean you’re going to call me ‘Daddy’?”
“Don’t push it, old man,” you giggled. Though if anyone could sway you, it would be him. “Why don’t we just stick with ‘alpha’ for now?”
“That and Bucky,” he suggested, turning his hand so your palm rested against his. “I like hearing you say my name, doll,” he added in a whisper.
“I like saying your name, Bucky,” you said, your brows furrowing. “But who came up with that nickname?”
He chuckled again, your skin tingling when he lifted your hand to kiss it. “You don’t want to hear about that.”
“Yes, I do,” you said.
He stole a glance at you. Through the heavy scent of your orgasm, you detected joy seeping from him. It made you feel happy, too. “Okay,” he smiled, running his thumb along your hand. “I got the nickname a long time ago
”
You twisted more in your seat to face him as you listened, lost in his voice and smile. There was so much you had to learn about your alpha. His likes and dislikes. What he would be like before, during, and after his ruts. He had a lot to learn about you, too. You wouldn’t give up on your dream of becoming a designer, and accepting his help may not be such a bad thing.
And maybe accepting the fact that you had a mate to depend on wouldn’t be such a bad thing either.
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So, what do we think so far? Love and thanks for reading! ❀
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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tan1shere · 2 days ago
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omg yesss i clicked on the wrong account😭 but i love ur writing and would love to see ur take on smth like that! maybe smth based off of that one lyric from the weeknd “Wanna fuck a skinny model right before her runway show, And we did it on the floor, that's why she walkin' kind of funny” yk ? sorry for the mix up!
Your Secret
Billie Eilish x vs female reader !
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A/n: you're completely ok love ! I hope you enjoy <3 - update I went into vs today and ugh I'm thinking of another similar fic đŸ˜©
Summary: It wasn't Vitorias secret anymore. It was yours.
Warnings: smut, use of the name daddy, dunno if there's anything else to report yall should know the deal by now !
Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs @bilsdillldough @mystiquemm
Masterlist
Was it wrong? Possibly, but you couldn't care less. Whenever you had a show she was there watching, but you ofcourse had to have your fun before hand. She claimed you looked extra tasty in your outfit and needed to do unspeakable things to you. It was your secret. Nobody even knew you were together, nor suspected anything. They might've known you were friends but that's common in the celeb world. Everyone knew everyone.
You were about to go on in 15, but you feel hands on your waist in your dressing room. You knew it was her hands. "Hi." She spins you to face her. "Hey." - "you smell good." You breathe out, then in. Taking it in. "Yeah?" She says going to kiss your neck. "Bub-" She hums in response. "Not the neck we talked about this." But she wasn't playing. Not today. You'd always say to leave hickey's in spots you two could see, but considering the time she had, she gave 0 fucks today. She needed to ravish you and fast.
"Bills-" Ears were off. Not hearing a single thing coming out of your mouth. "P-please." You then moan as you feel her bite, her grip on your waist tightening. She was feral today. "Babe, I-" she turns you around, backing you up against a wall. Your heart picks up, what if someone came in. "You, we-" She pulls back. "You've never complained before when we do this?" Shes right you don't, but something seems more dangerous today. That and the fact your covered in purple and red splotches. Her body presses against yours more and you feel it. "Billie." She smirks. "What?" She knew what, but time was ticking and she needed to fuck you.
You stay silent. "I know you can feel it hm?" You swallow. Deciding to give in and let her do whatever she needs. When all of a sudden, you're laying on the carpet and her body is hovering above yours. Yet you can still feel it with how close she is. And it's driving you crazy. Your needs growing by the second, but you hear her belt jingle, as she unbuckles it. Everything was speedy, you probably had about 10 minutes left, maybe less. Her fingers move to the lingerie you were wearing, just moving it to the side as she gets the fake dick out.
You were glad there was a time limit, because she'd forever tease you, taking as much time as possible until you were a mess for her. But, she now realizes she could just snap her finger and you'd be on your knees, in a puddle. You feel the tip of it against your folds, her moving it to your entrance soon after. Hastily slipping in, and not surprisingly with ease. Her finger moves down to your pussy. "You're very wet, wonder why." She was too cocky for her own good. Her pace instantly harsh but you sure as hell didn't mind.
"Who got you wet huh?" Her face was so close to yours, moving her lips down to your cheek. Your neck. "Y-." But her hand grips your jaw. "The word I'm after starts with a completely different letter. You know this." You gulp, closing your eyes. "Daddy did.." You silently say, breathing heavily as she picks up speed. "Didn't quite catch that, what?" You open your eyes to look right at her. "Daddy, made me this wet." Her cockiness returns, smirking down at you. "Good girl, much better. And who's going to make this pretty angels legs shake?" You choke on your spit as she snaps her hips, harder.
Your head spins as you try get out the answer. "D-daddy." You stammered, feeling your release approaching. And within seconds you're leaking all over the fake cock. Breathing heavily as you come down from the high. She pulls out, earning a whine from you. She takes it off, going to grab some tissues to clean you up. Adjusting your outfit back the way it was. She gets you to stand, chuckling as you wobble. Giving your lips a sloppy kiss. "3 minutes, angel!" Someone calls, you swallow. Having no time to do all you needed to. Luckily there was only two hickeys.
Unluckily they were both in visible spots. Your heart still beating fast, you put the white wings on and go for the door. "Hey baby." Billie says, sprawled out on a couch in your dressing room. She had been watching you struggle to put the finishing touches on, very amused at her work. "Just remember who got you like that as you're walking out. All those eyes on you for the wrong reasons need to know who you belong to." She winks. You bite your lip. This was not going to be easy to do. Wasn't much of a secret anymore either.
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littelovelunette · 3 days ago
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sevika and reader with babies/children?
through the power of the hexstrap (or adoption) sevika and reader have kids and fluff ensues
thank youđŸ«¶
Sevika's Little One (2)
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Even though the childbirth wasn't exactly thought through and planned, you and Sevika still vowed to love her every step of the way no matter how hard life got.
You were in the delivery room, panting heavily after you'd given birth.
You felt a little light headed due to the loss of blood but the thought of holding your baby girl was enough for you to fight to stay awake.
“She's a beautiful, healthy girl.” The nurse said and handed her to you. You saw her, the tiny red face all scrunched up trying to adjust to the lighting of the hospital room, fists clenched tight in the towel she was in.
“O-oh, hi
” you said weakly, “She's so
 she's so beautiful.” You said, trying not to sob in happiness but you couldn't help it.
Sevika was next to you, even though she had tears in her eyes although she refused to acknowledge it.
“What do you want to name her?” Sevika asked, her voice a little shaky, as you passed her to Sevika's arms.
She was careful, holding her in such a way that her flesh arm was in contact with her little bundled up body, instead of her mechanical arm. “She looks like me.” Sevika said, voice weak as she watched the little baby in her arms intently.
“Heather.” You suddenly said, “Let's name her Heather.”
Sevika, not really paying attention, because she was still locked in her baby's trance, took a minute to respond. “Heather
 it's soft. Like her.”
“Mhm, that's why it's perfect.” You said with a little giggle. Heather, it would be. Your daughter's name.
A symbol that you and Sevika were a married couple, a little sign of your love for each other.
Sevika was extremely careful with the child and although her one hand was big enough to hold the baby without having to use her mechanical hand, she still preferred the baby stayed in your arms.
It was a little sad, Sevika thought her own baby wasn't safe in her arms but slowly the tension began to loosen and one day, when you woke up, Heather wasn't in her crib.
You were instantly in a panic but then you saw it— Sevika walking around with Heather in her arms, holding the baby up, showing her around the house and introducing her to everything with a baby voice you've never heard before from Sevika's mouth.
“And this is the kitchen, where I'm gonna be cooking for a while.” Sevika said to Heather who's big grey eyes were gazing around curiously, “Because mama needs rest, mhm?”
You leaned against the doorway, watching her bond with Heather. “You cooking, hmmm? Well, I guess I can expect to be poisoned first thing in the morning then.” You joked.
Sevika rolled her eyes, “I cook just fine.” Sevika held Heather close to herself, “Look at her.” She said holding the baby side by side to her own face, “She looks like a complete copy of mine!” There was more shock than awe in her voice that made you laugh.
“I think it's evident.” You walked upto the pair of them, taking Heather in your arms, “But she has my lips.”
“Uh-huh?”
“Yeah, they're not asymmetrical.” You said as you held the baby up, smiling at the little face that seemed so shocked to be there. “I wonder what her first words will be.”
“When's her feeding time?” Sevika asked.
“In an hour.” You replied, sitting down at the dining chair, cradling Heather.
“Want breakfast?” Sevika asked and you nodded, “Only if you wear the apron.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please? For Heather?”
Sevika huffed a sigh, picking the pink frilly apron from the counter and wearing it silently. You had to choke back a laugh at the sight. The big mighty Sevika dressed in a frilly pink apron was a sight to behold.
“Look, Heather!” You said and pointed to Sevika. Heather's big eyes looked around and locked on Sevika's face, a very toothless grin appearing on her lips.
“Oh, she's a gremlin.” Sevika said in an uninterested voice as she prepared the batter to make you some pancakes.
“You weren't saying that back when I gave birth.” You muttered before looking at Heather who was outstretching her small hand up as if wanting to go to Sevika. “Looks like Heather already has a favourite parent.” You laughed and got up, walking to where Sevika was, with Heather in your arms.
Sevika glanced up, smirking slightly. “Oh yeah?”
After breakfast and feeding Heather, you were already tired for the day. Sevika was fawning over Heather as per the usual, dolling her up and saying the same thing every now and then, “I can't believe she's our daughter.”
“Sevika?” You called and she hummed looking up.
“She looks exactly like you, save for the lips, right?”
“Mhm
?”
“You were this cute as a kid? Awwww!”
Sevika flushed a dark shade of red, using Heather's body to hide her face. “I hate you.” She mumbled against Heather's back making Heather give another wide not so toothy grin. They were all you needed.
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rhyrhy · 3 days ago
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“'Cause we're way too involved, just to cut and not call”
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Situationship! Abby Drabble
àŁȘ𖀐.ᐟ Warnings: none, just two idiots pining, fluff, 2k words. IFY This was 110% Inspired by this — more Abby here —
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The sound of Abby’s door clicking shut behind you was second nature by now. You’d met her after being transferred to the WLF base. thrown into a new routine, a new home, with new faces. Eyes feeling- no, knowing you are sizing you up. And hers, Abby, had been one of them. What started as a proper passing familiarity. working the same routes, seeing her in the gym, nodding at each other across crowded mess hall tables. had turned into nights spent in her room, pretending it was casual.
But the feelings had started to bleed through

First, it was the small things. Redoing her braid after you’d messed it up by tugging on it all night. Jokingly calling her patrol dog, your “baby” when she curled up beside you, earning a sound of amusement from Abby. Then she’d started catching your wrist before you could slip away, her fingers firm but careful. The dim glow of a lantern casting shadows across her face as she’d murmur, “It’s late. You can head back in the morning, yeah?” Now, after weeks of being apart. separate assignments. However the pit in Abby’s stomach from your absence was impossible to ignore. Too obvious to be anything other than what it was. Or what was building.
Abby was sprawled her bed, one arm tucked behind her head, a small smile on her lips as you stepped inside.
“Hey, stranger. Starting to think you forgot about me.”
You sat beside her, the mattress dipping under your weight as her arm stretched along the back, her fingertips brushing your shoulder, resting on the fabric of your shirt. This was supposed to be easy. No strings attached. But as she laughed, her gaze lingering on yours, something soft and knowing in her expression, she realized you both were in trouble.
in deeper than either of you would admit.
“Forget about you? Please, never.” You joked, bumping her shoulder with yours. Truth was, you couldn’t even dream of forgetting about her.
Abby humed, tilting her head to the side. Her braid following her small movement. “You say that now, but you haven’t even bothered to check in for almost three weeks.” There was tease lilt to her tone, but a small part of her was beginning to wonder if maybe you’d decided she wasn’t worth the trouble after all. Trying to push that past relationship troubles take over.
“Really?” You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking back to how long it had actually been. It clicked She was
counting? Regardless she was right. yes, it had been awhile. “Oh
 shit, I’m sorry, Abs. Got busy, I guess?” You rubbed your arm, glancing over at her. It was a weak statement but it’s all you could mutter out.
Abby rolled her eyes, nudging you with her knee. “Busy, huh? Couldn’t even leave a note or something?” She gave you a pointed look, pouting dramatically. “Im offended.” But as she took in your sheepish expression, her gaze softened. Her bottom lip out.
“Hey! Don’t do that. You’re a horrible communicator too, and you know it,” you chuckled, reaching out to tilt her face toward you with a finger under her chin. Scanning over the new scar on the side of her cheek.
Abby scoffed, still faking offense. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh?”
She smirked as your fingers gently lifted her chin, her eyes meeting yours. A familiar spark flickered between you, something that felt like it was always standing behind you. Looming.
You nodded jokingly, scanning her face again. “Mhm. I’m soo not taking accountability here.”
Abby rolled her eyes again, but there was a mischievous glint in them. She pouted again, though this time it was clearly more playful than serious. “Oh really? I see how it is.” She leaned into your touch, her voice much quieter than before. Fingers twitching to reach over and hold you more.
You chuckled, brushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear before cupping her face. “Oh Yeah? You do?”
Abby’s teasing melted away the moment your hands settled on her skin. Your touch was too gentle, too easy, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she should keep things light, keep up the playful air, but the way you were looking at her? Like she meant something? It was fucking terrifying. You always looked at her like that, always.
“Earth to Andersonnnn,” you teased, your thumb caressing over her cheek. Eyes on hers, like you were trying to read her thoughts.
Abby blinked, cheeks tinged with a rush of heat. She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Sorry, got lost in thought for a second.” Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, savoring the feel of your touch. It felt too natural. Too safe.
“I see that,” you hummed, shifting along the couch until you settled onto her lap, resting on her thighs. “Whatcha thinking about, hm?”
Abby’s hands instinctively found your hips, her grip firm but careful. The warmth of you against her sent a flood of emotions rushing through her. Ones she’d been trying to ignore for weeks, months. Ever since you first kissed her if she being completely honest with herself. Your arms around her neck, the soft sigh you let out. it wouldn’t leave her, ever.
She exhaled, her fingers absentmindedly skimming the hem of your shirt. “Nothing. Just
 stuff.”
“Stuff,” you repeated, unconvinced. You sighed, resting your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of pine. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop by sooner. But I
 I thought about you.” Your voice was quieter now. “I promise.”
Abby’s breath caught as you nuzzled closer, her fingers tracing lazy circles along your back. She closed her eyes, relishing in your warmth, in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against her. Worried hers was loud enough for you to hear.
“I thought about you too,” she admitted, barely above a hush. More than she should have. More than she wanted to. But admitting that meant something, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face what that was. It screamed at her, little did she know it was mutual annoyance. That nagging to just face what was happening, like taking the sun away from a blooming flower. Forcing the petals to stay shut. She swallowed hard, gripping your waist just a little tighter.
“No, Abs
 like, really missed you.” You sighed, pressing a small kiss to her shoulder before leaning back to meet her eyes. “Like more
 than I should.”
Abby’s heart thumped at your words. She averted her gaze, trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling creeping up her throat. But when she felt your lips against her skin, her resolve broke. She looked at you then. really looked at you. That look you’d always given her whether you knew you were doing it or not. Your face, so open, so
unguarded. A expression she hadn’t yet memorized.
“More than you should?” she echoed, voice barely above a whisper.
You sighed, tilting your head back to stare at the ceiling. A thousand words wanted to spill but the only one you let fall was..
“Yeah.”
A long silence stretched between you, those heavy with unspoken words.
The warm of her fingers traced slow invisible patterns along your waist, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions she didn’t know how to name. Or if she should. She took a deep breath, exhaling shakily before finally admitting, “I
 I’ve missed you too. More than I should.”
You glanced back down at her, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips. “Not just me then?” you murmured, resting your forehead against hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin.“Good
 I feel better about that.”
Abby closed her eyes, savoring the weight of you against her, the way your fingers danced along her arm like this was something much more. “No, not just you,” she murmured, her voice softer now. She opened her eyes, searching your face for something. reassurance, maybe. A sign that this wasn’t just in her head.
You chuckled, running a hand along her arm. “I mean, you are so cute. How could I not think about your stupid face?”
Abby let out a short laugh, swatting at your arm. The tension eased just slightly. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Miss ’Too Busy to Check In,’” she teased.
“Oh, shut up! Now I’ll find you every day just to spite you. How’s that?” You grinned, tilting her face up once more, Faces much closer than before.
Abby huffed, pretending to be put off, but her heart was hammering against her ribs. “You better. I’ll be waiting for it. Every single time. No pressure, though.” She smiled, raising an eyebrow at you as your hands cupped her face. “Oh? And what else? Gonna bring me flowers too?”
You scoffed, arching a brow back at her. “Oh? What kind of flowers would Miss Anderson want?”
She pretended to think about it, tapping her chin before grinning. “Lilies. The white ones.”
You let out a soft laugh. “Lilies? That’s real romantic, Abby.” you hummed. “But I like the idea. It’s a deal then. ilies for your time.”
Abby chuckled, playfully swatting your arm. “Oh, so now it’s a trade? Fine, You’ve got yourself a deal.” Her fingers idly traced the back of your neck as she softened, her gaze stamped on yours.
“Good. You don’t have a choice anyway.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Now, can I kiss you, or are we just gonna flirt until the sun comes up?”
Abby pretended to think about it, her fingers still playing with the hem of your shirt. “Hmm
 such a hard choice.” She whispered back, but the hunger in her eyes betrayed her.
“I think I’ll go with option one. C’mere.”
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haikyu-mp4 · 2 days ago
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Bad flirt – Sakusa x reader wc 591 – f!reader, brother!Hinata
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Every time you saw Sakusa, you seemingly seethed with annoyance. Hinata thought back to his friendship with Kageyama in high school, when they would bicker endlessly to the extent that people thought they were the ultimate rivals, and decided that what you had with Sakusa- it must be love.
And what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t play Cupid?
He constantly dragged you along to events with the jackals, as those were the only events Sakusa occasionally attended. He would try to include both of you in conversations and even drinking games. Unfortunately, his plans always failed, as you would either avoid the curly-haired man or bicker with him endlessly.
Hinata told himself that all it would take was a small kiss and you two would realise your feelings for each other.
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Your brother sat down beside you on the couch, while you watched him with suspicion. Like a proper lady, he crossed one leg over the other, rested both hands on the upper knee and cleared his throat delicately.
“Sister, dearest. May I ask about your thoughts on my teammate, Sa-“
“No.”
“Okay, worth a try.”
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He needed a new approach. He needed help.
No, not from their other teammates.
From alcohol.
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“Sakusa,” Hinata cooed as he slung himself into the seat beside him, unceremoniously clinking his beer into Sakusa’s glass of red wine, which in turn made the poor man anxiously grasp the tall glass so it wouldn’t fall.
“Hinata, be careful,” he scolded the energetic and undeniably drunk volleyball player.
“Why do you hate my sister?” he queried back in a whiney voice.
Sakusa scowled immediately, looking at the table instead of him. “I don’t hate her, she hates me.”
“She used to say you were so hot before I joined the jackals,” Hinata revealed. It looked like Sakusa was forming some profound thoughts from this information, but Hinata was not on the same track. “I guess you should never meet your heroes. Or celebrity crushes.”
Atsumu didn’t give them any more time to sit over there and be boring, pulling Hinata with him back onto the makeshift dance floor. This left Sakusa alone with his thoughts and a sudden flashback to when he first met you.
What the hell did I do?
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“What’s your problem with me?”
Your jaw fell and you couldn’t move your eyes from Sakusa, who had somehow found his way to your apartment and was now trying to catch his breath. His shoulders were hunched and he had one hand on his hip.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked in return, making him roll his eyes.
“Sho told me you used to like me, what happened?”
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish before you ultimately frowned, but Sakusa’s eyes betrayed his focus and strayed to the pout on your lips.
“You clearly don’t understand flirting,” you mumbled.
If there had been a cricket in the hallway of your apartment building, you would’ve known, because the silence that settled was so crisp you swore you could’ve touched it.
“You call that flirting? I thought you hated me for no reason!” Sakusa finally declared indignantly.
“I thought you were flirting back
”
Sakusa worried he might get whiplash from how suddenly your tone changed into sadness. He blinked and stuttered to find an answer, leaning on the door frame.
“I would have. Your flirting is really weird though, can we try another way?”
And that is how Hinata led Sakusa right into your arms without even meaning to.
masterlist
requested by @yaomomvs for my event, anything for you <3
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nanaminxs · 2 days ago
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Hi!!
I love your writingđŸ„č
I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a best friend!Dick Grayson x fem!reader smut where she comes over & complains to him about another bad hookup where she didn’t get to cum & he tells her he wants to make her feel goodđŸ˜©đŸ˜©
eats her out and maybe fucks her slow & deep ,,
heavy praiseđŸ˜©đŸ™đŸ»
I’m such a slut for him I can’ttt . thanks for reading heh love ur blogđŸ„č
Dick Grayson is always there for you. Has been since age 12. You go to him for everything, including every single bad hookup.
Most of the time you wouldn’t complain because at least the dick is decent, but the guy you were seeing was just too fucking focused on himself to care about your own needs.
Naturally, you sought out help from your closest friend.
“I just don’t get it,” You sulk, body slumping down into his couch wishing it would swallow you whole.
“He texts me to come over, I ride him til my legs are numb and he can’t even return the favor. I cannot count how many times he came just from a finger light touch. It was pathetic.”
Dick nods and occasionally lets out small hums in acknowledgment as he listened to you.
“Let me make you feel good then.” He blurts out, mentally face palming himself because—did he really just say that to you?
A beat of silence passes before you’re actually registering what he said to you.
“I’m..sorry?” Your head tilts to the side as it that’ll help you hear better.
“Let ME make you feel good.” He stands to his feet, cocking his head over to the hallway that stops at his room.
It’s so surreal. To him anyway—I mean he literally has the person he’s been silently inlove with for years in his bed while he ate her out like a man starved.
Your moans were like a lullaby to him, and he’d do anything he could to keep them going.
His teeth graze your clit, taking the small bud between his lips.
He lets go with a wet sound and his tongue darts out to cover your entire mound.
Your hands dug into his hair, back arching off the sheets you know you shouldn’t be on—but man does he treat you better than any prick you’ve fucked with before.
His thumbs spread your pussy lips and when you look down he’s staring right back at you with a pleading look that just screams ‘cum on my face’
You’ve probably never cum that hard in your life. Especially not from a guy.
Dick spits messily on your cunt, lips glossy and coated in the two of you.
He frees himself from his jeans and nestles right between your legs.
“I can take care of you. Better than everyone who hasn’t gotten a chance to worship you, pretty girl.”
His lips meet with yours. A mix of your slick and his spit mingling on your tongue. The head of his cock pushes into gummy walls and soon he’s burried balls deep into you.
Dick doesn’t shut up. But in that moment he found himself tongue tied—at a lost for words.
“Thereee you go. Jus’ like that. S’a nice fit, yeah?”
He pants out, eyes flickering from where u met to your face with a cheeky grin.
You scowl at him and he’s nodding in understandment.
His hips snap into yours at a slow pace, each stroke so deep his tip kissed your cervix.
“Fuck, Dick!” You moaned out, his lips found your jaw. Soft and simple.
“I know. Lemme take care of you baby—fuck! Let me be yours, let me fuck you how you deserve to be fucked.”
He’s so fixated on the way your cunt pulled him back in after he pulled out, and he’s wondering how on earth he’s managed to get your pretty ass into his bed.
“I got you—lemme feel you. M’right here.” He presses your thighs to your chest, smushed by his frame as he’s fucking into you slightly faster and with much more desperation.
He’d make you cum for the first time during a hookup, and it’s safe to say you’re stuck now because—who can resist a man who knows what he’s doing?
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ari-ana-bel-la · 13 hours ago
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can we have a charles dad where his teen daughter (roughly 14-15) is sick? how would he react and take care of her?
loving your works!!
Mama and Papa are here
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The apartment was filled with the warm aroma of homemade pasta sauce, simmering softly on the stove. Charles stood by the counter, chopping fresh basil while Alexandra stirred the pot, a content smile on her face.
"I think she'll like this," Charles said, glancing toward the clock. "She had that big math test today. She deserves her favorite meal."
Alexandra chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Always the caring Papa. She'll love it, trust me."
From the living room, Leo let out a small whine, his little body curled up on the soft couch. His dark eyes kept flicking toward the door, his tail wagging lazily in anticipation.
"He misses her," Alexandra said softly, watching the dachshund twitch his ears at every small sound.
"Yeah," Charles agreed, warmth filling his chest. "He always knows when she's about to come home."
The familiar sound of the key turning in the lock made Leo jump up immediately, tail wagging furiously as the door opened. But instead of the usual cheerful greeting, a quiet sigh escaped from their daughter as she stepped inside.
"Hey, sweetheart," Alexandra called, stepping into the hallway. Her smile quickly faded as she took in her daughter’s appearance. Yn's face was pale, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and her shoulders slumped with exhaustion.
Charles was by her side in seconds, his hand gently resting on her forehead. "Mon ange," he murmured, concern etched into his voice, "you're burning up."
"I—I don't feel so good," Yn whispered, her voice weak and trembling slightly.
Alexandra moved swiftly, her hand coming to Yn's back. "Let’s get you out of those clothes and into something more comfortable, okay? You’ll feel better soon, baby."
As Alexandra guided Yn to the bathroom, Charles hurried to their bedroom. His mind raced as he gathered everything they might need—extra blankets, a hot water bottle, the small box of medicine from the cabinet. His heart ached at the thought of his little girl feeling so unwell.
By the time Alexandra led Yn into the room, Charles had transformed the bed into a warm, comforting nest. He opened his arms immediately, and without hesitation, Yn crawled in, nestling against his chest.
"You're going to be okay," he promised softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead.
Alexandra knelt beside the bed, a cool cloth in her hands as she began to dab Yn's overheated face. "Let’s check your temperature, baby," she said gently, handing the thermometer to Charles.
Y/N barely flinched as Charles placed the thermometer in her ear. He wrapped his other arm protectively around her shoulders, whispering quiet reassurances.
"39.4," Charles read softly, his chest tightening. "She’s really warm."
Alexandra pressed a kiss to Yn's temple. "Okay, sweetheart. We’re going to give you some medicine, and you’ll feel better soon."
Charles carefully measured out the syrup, holding the spoon to Yn’s lips. "I know it doesn’t taste great," he said softly as she swallowed it with a grimace. "But it’ll help."
Leo, who had been pacing at the edge of the bed, finally decided he had waited long enough. With a small bounce, he leapt onto the mattress, curling up against Yn’s side and resting his tiny head on her shoulder.
"You missed her, huh?" Charles said softly, scratching behind the dachshund’s ears.
Yn let out a faint giggle, her fingers curling into Leo’s soft fur. "He’s so warm," she murmured sleepily.
Alexandra tucked the blankets tighter around their daughter. "How about we stay here with you for a bit? Would you like that?"
Yn gave a weak nod, her heavy eyelids fluttering shut. Charles exchanged a glance with Alexandra before shifting to lean against the headboard, allowing Yn to curl more comfortably into his chest. Alexandra slid into bed behind her, wrapping her arms protectively around both of them.
The room fell into a soothing quiet, the only sounds being the occasional stir of pasta sauce from the kitchen and the soft sighs of their daughter nestled between them. Charles pressed a kiss to Yn's warm forehead, wishing he could take the fever away just by holding her.
"Remember that story you used to love?" he asked softly, a smile tugging at his lips despite the ache in his heart. "The one about the little fox who wanted to find the moon?"
Yn hummed softly, her face half-buried in his sweater. "Yeah
"
"Want me to read it to you?" he offered, brushing his fingers gently through her hair.
"Okay," she whispered.
Charles reached over to the nightstand, pulling out the worn, familiar book. It had been her favorite bedtime story for years, and as he flipped to the first page, the memories flooded back—nights spent curled up together, the sound of her soft laughter, the way she used to fall asleep halfway through the story.
His voice was soft and soothing as he began to read. "Once upon a time, in a quiet little forest, there was a curious young fox who wanted to touch the moon
"
He felt Yn relax further against him, her breathing growing softer and slower. By the time he reached the middle of the story, her small body had gone limp against his chest.
"I think she’s asleep," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alexandra smiled softly, brushing a kiss against Yn’s temple. "You’re magic," she teased gently, her arms still wrapped around both of them. "Always have been."
Charles chuckled under his breath, the sound warm and quiet. "I just love her."
Leo shifted slightly, letting out a contented sigh as he nestled closer against Yn, his little head still resting protectively against hers.
For a while, they stayed like that—wrapped in warmth and love, the soft rise and fall of their daughter’s breathing filling the room. Charles tightened his hold, heart aching with tenderness as he pressed another kiss to her forehead.
"Sleep, mon amour," he whispered. "Papa and Mama are right here. Always."
â™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™„ïžŽâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ąâ™Ą
Authors Note: Hey guys. Please enjoy reading this chapter. My requests are open, and I am more than happy to fulfil your wishes.
-💙🩋
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