#they were the opening of a door that helped me find myself

[satellite-evans]

sweet nothing

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando often finds himself running home to your sweet nothings <3

Word count: 1.2k+

Warnings: tooth aching fluff, self doubt, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

I know I know, another Taylor Swift based song, but honestly I could not help myself lol hope you guys enjoy xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Lando knew the world would always ask more of him.

More speed, more podiums, more perfection.

It was never enough—no matter how hard he pushed, how flawlessly he executed each lap, how many times he stood on the podium drenched in champagne. There was always another race, another challenge, another voice questioning if he could be better, faster, stronger.

He had spent his life chasing milliseconds, his every move analyzed under a microscope. Every qualifying session, every tire strategy, every split-second decision picked apart by experts, fans, and critics alike. The cameras never stopped flashing, the media never stopped pressing, and the world never stopped waiting—waiting for him to falter, to crack under the pressure, to prove he was human after all.

It was exhilarating, yes. But exhausting all the same.

Some days, the weight of expectation settled so heavily on his shoulders that he felt like he might collapse under it. Some nights, even victory felt hollow, lost in the endless cycle of needing to prove himself over and over again.

But when he came home to you, none of it mattered.

Because you asked for nothing.

No questions about strategy, no discussions about points or standings, no expectations he had to meet. Just you—curled up on the couch in one of his oversized hoodies, waiting for him with that familiar, soft smile that made his entire world slow down.

The moment he stepped through the door, the noise of the outside world faded into silence. The cameras, the flashing lights, the headlines—they ceased to exist. Here, he wasn’t Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, the rising star, the man under constant scrutiny. He was simply Lando.

“Long day?” you asked softly, setting your book aside as he crossed the room.

He didn’t answer right away—just let out a slow, heavy sigh as he dropped onto the couch beside you, his body sinking into the cushions as though the weight of the world had finally caught up with him. His eyes, usually alight with adrenaline and mischief, were clouded with exhaustion, the telltale signs of another grueling day etched into the tension in his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

You didn’t need to ask for details. You already knew.

Without hesitation, you opened your arms, wordlessly offering him the one thing he could never find anywhere else—solace. And the moment he leaned into you, his body pressing against yours, his face buried in the crook of your neck, he let out another sigh, this time softer, more relieved. The kind of sigh that told you he had been holding his breath all day.

Your fingers found their way into his curls, threading through them with slow, soothing strokes. The steady rhythm of your touch was his anchor, grounding him in a way nothing else could. Not the roar of the engine, not the rush of a podium finish, not the validation of the world’s applause. Just this. Just you.

“Talk to me,” you murmured, your voice a gentle invitation, not a demand.

But he didn’t need to. Because with you, silence was never empty—it was full. Full of unspoken love, of quiet understanding, of a peace he could never quite put into words.

You never asked about his lap times or his championship standings. You didn’t care about the noise of the world outside these four walls—the pressure, the scrutiny, the endless cycle of proving himself again and again. All you ever asked of him was to simply be. To exist without expectation. To rest without guilt. To love and be loved in return.

He shifted slightly, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. A silent thank you. A silent I love you. A silent I need this more than you know.

His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw, your lips brushing against his skin like a promise.

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

Lando exhaled a quiet laugh, the kind of soft, sleepy sound that only you ever got to hear. It wasn’t the boisterous, camera-ready chuckle the world knew—it was something smaller, something sweeter, something just for you. He tightened his arms around you, burying his face deeper into the curve of your neck, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. Like home wasn’t a place but a person.

You.

As the evening stretched on, neither of you moved much, perfectly content in the quiet, tangled mess of limbs and warmth that you’d melted into. The television hummed softly in the background, flickering light dancing against the walls, but neither of you paid it much attention. The real comfort was here, in the way his fingertips traced absentminded patterns against your arm, featherlight and soothing. A subconscious habit—like he needed to remind himself that you were real, that you were here, that this moment belonged to him and no one else.

Every once in a while, he would sigh, a deep, contented sound that made your heart swell. You knew this was rare—Lando allowing himself to simply be. No overanalyzing, no worrying about tomorrow’s practice sessions or race strategies, no weight of expectation crushing his shoulders. Just this. Just love, wrapped up in a lazy, sleepy embrace that neither of you wanted to break.

After a while, you nudged a small box on the coffee table toward him. “I brought your favorite.”

He peeked up, blinking at you sleepily before glancing at the box, the familiar packaging instantly recognizable. His tired features softened, his lips curving into the kind of smile that made your chest feel like it was wrapped in sunshine.

“You always know what I need,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, like he was too at peace to speak any louder.

You grinned, nudging your nose against his in a playful Eskimo kiss. “That’s my job.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at you in that affectionate way that made your heart flip. His arms tightened around you, his nose brushing against your cheek, his lips ghosting over your skin with the gentlest, most reverent touch. “Best job in the world.”

And he meant it.

Because what could possibly be better than this? Than coming home to you, to the way you just knew—when he needed quiet, when he needed a distraction, when he needed to be held without saying a word. Than feeling this overwhelming, all-consuming love in the simplest, softest of moments, wrapped up in your warmth, your laughter, your everything.

Eventually, he let himself sink further into you, his head resting against your shoulder, his fingers curling lazily into the fabric of your shirt as his breathing evened out. You felt the way his muscles fully relaxed, the last of his tension melting away, like you were the only safe harbor in a world that constantly asked more of him.

And you were.

The world outside could wait. The pressure, the expectations, the endless cycle of proving himself—it could all wait.

Because right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Home.

And for the first time that day, he felt like he could finally breathe.

Because in a world that always demanded more, you were the one thing that never did.

And that, he knew, was everything.

[imagine-you]

If I Open the Door To Heaven Or Hell 2/? [Wally Clark/Reader]

Summary: Something Wally mentions in the meeting with Maddie's friends catches your attention. Word Count: 1.8k Author's Note: The new episode gave me ideas. I have no one to blame but myself. Spoiler alert...it's body shots.

Read on AO3 // Part One

What you had with Wally was new and exhilarating and sometimes terrifying. You were learning new boundaries and territory, seeking places to step where you couldn't before. You hadn't told the others about your relationship, because you didn't want them to scrutinize it, but you knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out.  

Secrets had a bad habit of coming to light when you were dead. 

Now that the dam had broken, it was like you couldn't get enough of each other. You were both focused on helping Maddie, but whenever you got a spare moment, you found each other. Wally had taken to surprising you by pulling you into classrooms and making out on desks. You made use of janitor closets and locker rooms and on one memorable occasion, the rooftop of the school.  

You felt breathless as you stared up at the night sky with Wally's fingers intertwined with yours. You hadn't bothered to put your shirt back on, sure no one would manage to find you up here.  

You turned your head to see Wally already watching you. Besotted was the first word that came to mind and you felt like you were floating.  

"We've got to go soon," Wally reminded you.  

"I know," you sighed, turning towards him so you could hook a leg around his and wrap an arm around his waist. You let your head rest on his shoulder, your fingers tugging briefly on the drawstring of his sweatpants. "What do you think it'll be like? Trying to talk to Maddie's friends?" 

"Weird," Wally responded with a laugh. "Worst game of telephone ever." 

You had to concede he had a point. Telling Maddie to tell Simon to tell whoever what you said did sound a bit tedious. But it was the only connection to the living you had and figuring out how to get Janet back to the school so Maddie could get her old life back. You would do anything to help Maddie get the opportunity you would never have, even if it meant rolling away from Wally's warmth and touch to grab your shirt where he had thrown it earlier in his haste to get it off you.  

You held Wally’s hand up until you were right outside the auditorium. You let his hand slip from yours, sending him an apologetic smile, before you opened the door. You walked into the auditorium to see chairs set up on the stage. There were four arranged off to the right that had pictures of Charley, Wally, Rhonda, and you taped to them. There were another three chairs set up and then two others off to the left that you assumed were for Simon and Maddie.  

"Aw, come on," Wally groaned when he saw the layout of the chairs. "We're not even sitting next to each other." 

"We'll survive a few minutes apart," you promised him before sneaking a quick kiss. "Let's just do this." 

Wally nodded his head, already trying to get his head in the game, before he bounded up to the stage.  

You sat beside Rhonda and enjoyed her sarcastic remarks at the expense of Maddie’s friends, even adding in some of your own just to get her to laugh. You knew she was having a hard time after visiting her scar and getting her to simply smile felt like a personal triumph.  

You noticed Wally glancing over at you from time to time, but you were worried if you looked at him that you wouldn't be able to stop.  

The group was trying to decide how to get Janet back to the school. You thought about it for a moment before leaning forward in your chair.  

"What if we tell her Mr. Martin is gone? I mean, we're pretty sure that's what happened, right? If she knows he's out of the picture, at least for now, maybe she'll come back here." 

"Oh, uh, Y/N is talking now," Maddie informed Simon, pointing helpfully at your chair.  

Simon squinted, as if he was trying to see you, and nodded his head. You knew he couldn't see you, but his eyes were fixed right where your chest was, and it made you just the slightest bit self-conscious.  

"Hey, dude," Wally interrupted, snapping his fingers at Simon. "Show some respect! Stop staring at her y'know," he said, gesturing towards his own chest.  

Charley glanced over at Wally in surprise, but Rhonda turned and arched a brow at you.  

"Interesting," she commented.  

Maddie relayed your message to Simon before she changed the subject, leading to other ideas being presented. Xavier brought up salt as a way of creating a barrier to keep Janet contained.  

"He's clearly the brains of the operation," Rhonda observed with an unimpressed roll of her eyes.  

"Salt's not going to do anything," Charley added, looking like he wanted to laugh. "Unless you plan on doing body shots with Janet and hoping she cowers in fear." 

"Damn, I miss body shots," you heard Wally chime in and you finally ended up glancing over at him in surprise.  

Your surprise turned into contemplation and from there a plan hatched.  

The next evening, you waited until Wally was distracted by the others before you left in search of what you needed. Typically, you would have grabbed a bottle of tequila, some salt, and limes. But you were stuck inside a high school, so you would just have to settle for the best you could find.  

You started in the principal's office where all the best contraband was stashed. You didn't find tequila, but you did find an emptied water bottle that had been refilled with vodka. Next, you tried the cafeteria and found lemons and a knife. Salt evaded you, but when you tried the teacher's lounge, you did find sugar packets. It wasn't the best combination, but it would have to do.  

Either way, you were sure Wally would love it.  

You reconvened with the others and sidled up to Wally.  

"Meet me in the auditorium in fifteen minutes," you whispered to him before making your exit again.  

There was a booth at the back of the auditorium where the light and sound control boards were kept. It was half past six and the drama club had already vacated the premises, so you were guaranteed to be left alone. The whole reason you picked it was for its promise of seclusion, but also the couch that was tucked into the corner of the booth. You had stolen a blanket from a teacher's classroom and draped it over the floor. The vodka, sugar, and lemons were spread out on the blanket like an offering.  

You waited on the couch until Wally found you twelve minutes later.  

"Hey," he started, looking from you to the blanket and contraband on the floor. "What's all this?" 

"Well," you said, standing up and approaching him. "You said you missed body shots, right? So, I thought..." you trailed off, letting him put the pieces together himself.  

Even in the dim lighting of the booth, you could see Wally's eyes darken with want. Before you knew it, he was crowding into your space, cradling your jaw in his palm, and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss grew heated and Wally had your shirt rucked up under your arms, his hands holding you at the small of your back and between your shoulder blades, keeping you close to him. 

"Wait," you gasped, breaking the kiss.  

Wally groaned, letting his head fall to your shoulder. He pressed a light kiss to the crook of your neck.  

"C'mon," you coaxed, trying to usher him over towards the couch.  

"Right," Wally agreed, letting you push him down onto the cushions. "Just got distracted," he admitted with a grin up at you.  

You felt yourself flush before you turned and grabbed the supplies. You handed him the lemons and knife. "Cut those for me," you instructed him while you grabbed the sugar packets and vodka.  

You joined Wally on the couch, reaching out to grab the blanket and drape it over your laps in case you made a mess. Wally dropped the knife on the floor and then handed you a lemon wedge. You gave him a sugar packet in exchange. Before you could put the lemon wedge in your mouth, Wally was in your space again. He nosed along your jaw before finding your neck and licking up from your collarbone to just below your ear.  

You shivered, feeling want surge through you, before he gently tipped your head to the side.  

"Got to make sure it sticks," he murmured, before he opened one of the sugar packets and let it pour over your neck. You felt some of the granules tumble down and land on the blanket, but most of it stayed where Wally intended.  

He was quick to fit his mouth to your neck again, eagerly lapping up the sugar and even taking a moment to suck a kiss into your skin.  

"Wally," you breathed, knowing that you were on a tipping point. Either Wally would take a shot or you would abandon the plan and let him have you now.  

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all, before he twisted the top off the bottle and took a swig. He hissed before letting out a delighted laugh when he noticed you put the lemon wedge in your mouth, the rind smooth and bumpy against your tongue. He fit his mouth to yours, pulling the lemon into his mouth and sucking on it, before he spit it out onto the blanket.  

Before you knew it, your back was on the couch and Wally was over you. He kissed you, letting you taste the tang of lemon and sharp sweetness of the vodka and sugar as he licked into your mouth.  

"So good," he groaned into the kiss. "You're so good to me," he whispered before trailing his kisses back to your neck. You could feel him trying to get all the sugar free, chasing the sweetness stuck to your skin. "Can't believe how lucky I am." 

You grinned helplessly up at the ceiling of the tech booth and let your fingers run through Wally's hair. You tugged playfully at it and he nipped at your skin in retaliation, sending a shiver down your spine.  

You let Wally continue until you knew you were going to have one hell of a mark high up enough on your neck that you would have to find a scarf somewhere to cover it up.  

"Come on," you said, pushing lightly at his shoulders. You had let Wally have his fun and now it was time to have yours. "It's my turn," you told him when he refused to budge.  

That was enough to get Wally up and reaching for a sugar packet. You couldn't help but laugh watching him so eager to let you reciprocate.  

Wally might have felt like he was lucky, but you were the one who had truly lucked out with him. As you grabbed the lemon wedges where they had fallen to the floor, you hoped you would get to show him every day of your afterlife just how much you really loved him. 

Author's Note: If you would like to see more, have something you would like me to write for this 'verse, or want to be tagged in future updates, please let me know!

[writingsfromhome]

Unspoken Signals

A/N: reaaaallly tried to get this out for v-day. It’s been a while, I’m a bit rusty, but this is a quick fic w Harry and you as coworkers and a casual something else. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

—————————————————————-

“Well this is different,” I comment.

Before me sits a dozen children and they’re all very quiet. It’s music to my ears after the last hour.

“I didn’t know kids could even do yoga.”

“You didn’t know kids could stretch?” I raise a brow.

“The meditating part,” Harry clarifies. “I didn’t know they could quiet their minds and their demon mouths.”

I laugh softly and turn back to the kids. A couple are starting to get restless, peeking one eye open or scratching their noses—picking them more like. But it’s nice for the few minutes.

Both Harry and I worked at an art museum that had recently lost some of its funding and had decided to open up revenue streams by introducing “kids fun weekends”. So despite having zero training in early education, staff at the museum found ourselves having to look after children and host workshops from time to time.

So far we’d been volun-told to help with a crafts day, a movie night, wellness day, and an upcoming museum sleepover.

And I was so not being paid enough to deal with hyperactive children.

“Why do kids even need a wellness workshop?” Harry continues to whisper back to me. “They’ve got stressful jobs or something? Bloody put me on one and let me go home.”

“Anyone can experience stress Har,” I roll my eyes. Harry was one of those people who didn’t care about being politically correct when he spoke. Which led to a lot of bickering between us that most of our coworkers had gotten used to.

“The stress of any of these kids does not bloody compare to the stress of an adult.”

“Don’t be such an ageist,” I reply.

“Ageist? What the fuck,” he swears. “Do you just put a word in front of -ist and create a new prejudice?”

I gasp and hold his shoulder, “prejudice? Where did you learn such a large word?”

“Now you’re just being a word-ist,” Harry says smugly.

I snort despite myself, “And you’ve always been a prick.”

“Piss off,” Harry whispers. “This is unfair.”

We stand in silence, forced to do our job of keeping watch over the kids. But as they grow more agitated and so does Harry, I realize I really didn’t want to be here either.

“Well have you seen the new fake-Monet collection?” I ask.

It wasn’t actually fake-Monet. It was a local artist we were hosting in our community gallery that showcased…local artists. The first piece we ever saw hung up looked like a Monet so we took to calling him that.

“No. Not after that first forgery.”

“Wanna ditch this and check it out?”

“Fuck yes.” Harry’s eyes finally draw some life to them.

We leave our two other coworkers to deal with freshly-meditated children and sneak away.

The art museum wasn’t a large building; the ground floor was taken up by the open lobby, offices, the gift shop, and some of the more permanent exhibits. The second floor had revolving galleries and the community gallery sat on the third floor.

“D’you think anyone’s actually going to buy the guy’s fakes?” Harry asks.

“Probably,” I jam the button for the lift. “I saw a couple more pieces and they were beautiful.”

“You find any piece of art beautiful.”

“Well they are! It’s easy to find beauty in a lot of things if you’re not a prick.”

The lift arrives and the doors open; the reflection inside show a tall curly-haired annoyed bloke. Walking in with him is a shorter girl, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not a prick.” He looks down at me. “I just have standards.”

Suddenly in the enclosed space of the lift we’re gravitating towards each other like we tended to do. I smile up at him sweetly and he tsks and pushes me away by my chin; a conversation taking place with just our eyes.

The thing with Harry and me—because it was just a thing we didn’t label, was simple: we liked being around each other (despite being able to get on each other’s nerves).

We kinda just orbited each other and we were comfortable with it; some days he would follow me home and we’d hang out, get dinner, sleep together, and other nights I’d show up at his and we’d fold right into one another.

It was fun, and it felt cool not to label it. It felt very adult, like Harry and I were mature enough to appreciate the other in every aspect without being possessive enough to need to label it. Like somehow we were proving just how secure we were by doing it like this.

“You just like being judgemental,” I say and as the doors open onto the third floor I turn to walk out. “Because you’re an idiot.”

Outside stand at older couple who’ve definitely heard the last bit. I apologize and pray they don’t complain to anyone about the staff.

“Very unprofessional,” Harry goads as he laughs. “Do you harass all the elderly at the museum.”

“Shut up!” I shove him against the wall and he stumbles down.

“Oi!” He calls out as I walk away. “Oi! Help me up!”

“Help yourself!” I finally turn. He’s sprawled on the ground like this was his bedroom—because I’d seen the inside of his bedroom I would know. But he stays for so long I hurry back, not wanting anyone to walk past and get us in trouble for laying in the middle of the hall.

“I knew you’d come,” he smiles sweetly, his large hand in the air ready for me to grip.

“C’mon—“

I see it coming too late and he’s already trapped me in. He pulls me forward and I stumble into him, nearly catching myself on the wall. Nearly. I tumble into him instead.

“Grow up!” I scramble off of him as quick as I could. Because the one unspoken rule in this thing between us was staying nothing but platonic coworkers at work.

And that was the other thing about us—this unlabelled situation we were in. That as casual as we appeared there was a lot of orchestrating going on behind the scenes in order to be this nonchalant.

For example, only touching outside of work, not asking about dates the other went out on the weekend before, like saying you’re funny and where’ve you been when it’s been a while so as not to say I really like you and I want to be around you more and when you’re not around I miss you more than an unlabelled half should. Like getting drunk when I spot him at a club with another girl so I can continue to convince myself I really didn’t care all that much.

It was just Harry. At most we were just friends.

“This is me grown up,” Harry catches up to me. He can sense I’m annoyed and maybe he’s crossed a line so he lingers slightly behind.

I ignore him as I push the glass door into the gallery. This was one of my favourite spaces because of the large windows and views of the garden below planted by friends of the museum.

But mostly I loved it because it was a revolving door of local artists and it reminded me that everyone had a story to tell. And every story was beautiful.

“Don’t cry this time,” Harry whispers to me as he walks down the gallery to the far end.

“It was one time,” I mumble. That I actually cried. Usually I just teared up.

I couldn’t help it though, there was so much meaning and time put into these pieces. So much love and grief and every emotions on the spectrum. And I felt it all.

I decide I’d stop calling the artist fake-Monet because with a few more paintings I began to recognize his own signature style. He paints about personal community and finding it in public spaces—pockets around London.

“Hey look at this one,” Harry says when I’m a few pieces away. I walk over.

It’s unmistakably Hampstead Heath, the park a half hour walk from here and 15 from Harry’s place. It’s where we spent a lazy summer day a month or so ago. We were both free on the Saturday, our calendars opening up. I met Harry at his and we’d trekked through the hazy city to feel the cool breeze of the sturdy trees and the splash of the water. Despite the stickiness, we’d tucked into each other and pretended the shade was enough to keep us cool—enough to be so close. We read our book, took a summer nap, ate our picnic, and chatted about the rest of our lives. Passerbys would see two friends, or maybe two something-mores.

It’s only when the sun slinked down towards the horizon did we pack up. We walked back to his flat, took a shower together. We had dinner with his friends. It had been such a beautiful day I had ached with it because I knew how temporary it was.

But how perfect it had been. It had felt bigger than us.

Harry pointing it out toes that line again; he remembered it too, as something to reference. As something to compare to the beautiful richness of the tapestry before us—lavenders and lilacs, pinks and blues, sage, and dusty hues.

“Beautiful,” I murmur. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder now, I can’t tell who’s leaning on who.

“It…actually is.” Harry says in a hushed voice back. “I’m sorry fake-Monet that I doubted you.”

I look up at him in surprise, Harry rarely changed his mind. “Actually?”

“Yeah.” He looks down at me. “I think I get it.”

The expression in his eyes as he says this, as they fill with meaning, I have to look away. But the painting doesn’t help. It’s too full of my own meaning. Our meaning.

But there was no our.

“Wow.” I straighten up and move closer. “Look at that blending. And the details those are actually people.”

“They’ve all got their own shadow too.” Harry moves closer towards me again. He points it out.

“I’m gonna go look for shadows in the others.” I chirp just so I can get away. So I can keep denying.

A few hours later, the day is giving to nightfall. I badge out with Harry and we walk down the steps towards the iron gates.

“See you tomorrow?” I ask.

“I’m not in tomorrow.” He reminds me.

“Oh yeah your parents are in town?”

“Yep,” he fidgets with his phone and we stand in silence for a beat.

“Well I should-“ I say just as he asks, “Would you want to-“

We pause, awkward laugh. We were never awkward.

“You first,” I urge, wanting to know what he was going to ask.

“No it’s nothing. I should go. Got to clean my flat before my parents see how I live.”

“Don’t forget to hide the rolling papers from your bedside,” I tease. “And the magazines under the bed.”

“Oi I haven’t got magazines under the bed,” he smiles. His dimples make a handsome appearance. “They’re loud and proud on the coffee table now.”

“Except you haven’t got a coffee table.”

“If you know so much about my flat how about you come home with me and help me clean it? You can stay over.”

Come home with me. Casual, so casual.

But I know how calculated it had to be. I’d been there. Somehow I knew this is what he’d been trying to ask in the first place.

“What time are your parents getting in?” I ask.

“They’re early birds. Probably after 8.”

“8? Holy hell.” I swear.

“They want to do breakfast and then take me to visit my grandparents.”

“Right. Yeah well, imagine I’m still not out by the time they show up. That’d be so awkward. And there’s no way in hell I’m getting up before 8.”

His cheeks take on a slight blush. “They’ve…it wouldn’t be the first time they came over to a girl in my bed YN. I’m not 16.”

“I know. But…still awkward.”

“So?”

“I…don’t want them to get the wrong idea. We’ll see each other the day after. You’re working then right?”

My heart squeezes a bit at his crushed look before it’s swapped for happy, for easygoing. “Yep. Can’t get rid of me that quick.”

We part ways, I go mine with a heavy heart.

***

“So,” I check in with Harry at lunch the day he’s back. It had been a hectic day yesterday with a new group of kids and a new workshop to facilitate. Plus someone was quitting after being yelled at and Harry had missed it all so I wanted to update him. “How was your day off.”

“Shite,” he says. We walk a few streets over to a Pret. “Mum and dad wouldn’t stop whinging about my future and about settling down like I’m a fucking balding man in my 50s losing all prospects. I’m only 25!”

“Yeah total bummer having a day off for that,” I comment even though I have a hard time getting my next breath in. I can’t imagine my own parents caring that much about my life to spend a whole day with me talking about it. And what if I had stayed the night and accidentally bumped into them—would they have approved?

Should I even care?

“Then my nan basically told them to piss off but they started filling her head with it and then she’s asking me about any girls I’ve taken on dates lately. Started giving me relationship advice!”

“What was that?” I tease. “Take her on a walk and buy her some flowers? Go star gazing? Movie for 2 quid?”

Harry glances at me and his seriousness throws me off balance a little.

“What?”

He opens his mouth, then shrugs and closes it. “Nothing.”

“Sorry did I offend you?” I try to think of why he might be reacting this way.

“No, she actually did say some pretty old-fashioned shite. But I can take it from her. It’s my parents that drive me nuts.”

“Well I wish you were at work. Want to hear what happened?”

So I change the subject and we talk about what he missed. He’s more subdued today and I don’t read into it. He wasn’t mine to read into, I have to remind myself.

We talk about the gallery sleepover in two weeks, whether we were actually going to come in our PJs. When we get back to work we’re on different floors and I try not to miss him again.

***

“I actually brought mine—the appropriate pair.” My coworker jokes. We’re in the staff kitchen making an afternoon tea. Tonight was the gallery sleepover and I was not looking forward to it. But because I was working it I had the day off tomorrow and at least that was something to look forward to.

“I just brought a ratty tee. I don’t think I’m sleeping anyway.” I say.

“I hate that we got picked for this,” she continues. “I actually don’t even like kids. Why do you think I have none?”

“Well tonight will just be birth-control.”

“Trust me I don’t need it.” She cackles and walks away. My phone buzzes with a text.

Harry: Might be late tonight. cover for me if anyone asks?

Y: ur not even working the day how are u gonna be late?

Harry: got a thing. Just cover pls?

Y: obv

I wonder what was going on with him.

We hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to hang out the last week and work had been too busy to properly catch up. Plus our manager had been putting us on conflicting projects so I really had been missing Harry.

Even though Harry and I were friends there was something about distance and fondness that was proving true lately. And I hated it. So I’d gone on a string of dates this week. Hence my busyness.

I’d gone out on a date a week ago and even though I ended up going back to his place all I wanted to do was text Harry. Ask him if he was up, what he was doing. I’d forced myself to shut my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted.

After we close the doors to the public that evening we begin setting up for the kids’ sleepover. It’s so hectic nobody notices Harry’s late but he slides right in helping me string the lights in our biggest gallery. We work on the projectors next, I yap to him for 10 minutes straight and he barely replies. He’d been quiet since he got here.

And for the next few hours Harry and I entertain and help children have fun, we put on a fancy puppet show loosely based on famous artists—art projections included.

We sneak away to the kitchen after we take our bow for a tea break.

“Wouldn’t happen to have a flask on ya?” Harry sighs as he strains his tea bag.

“God I wish,” I stare into the dark abyss of my earl gray. That performance had really taken it out of me. “Who d’you think’s most likely to have something stashed away?”

“Well,” Harry yawns like he hadn’t slept all week and points to an upper cabinet. “Behind the cleaning stuff.”

“What?!” I gasp. “Seriously?”

“Well last time I saw it was last Christmas. Probably got some alcoholics here. I dunno if the stash is still there.”

“Well this is naughty,” I find a couple travel-sized liquor bottles like the kind you get on planes. I take one so that somebody else can have the delight of the other.

Harry sticks his mug out and I empty half the bottle, doing the same to mine.

“Make sure it’s covered,” he advises when I throw it in the bin. I shake it around until I can’t see it.

“Much better,” I cheers my mug to his. He catches my eye and it feels like we’re co-conspirators again. I pass a smile that’s only half-returned. “So what’s the deal with you?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up from his drink.

“I’ve barely seen you all week. And you’re late tonight. And you look haggard as hell.”

He shrugs, “I’ve been helping one of my mates out with moving out of his girlfriend’s. They broke up. He’s a mess so…”

“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that. “That’s kind of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Do I?” I widen my eyes.

“Piss off.”

He cracks with a smile—a full Harry smile and I feel my heart beaming just to soak it in.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” I ask tentatively. I knew he had the day off too.

“Uhm,” cagey Harry returns. “Maybe. I’m not too sure right now.”

“Ah okay.”

We sip in silence that threatens to smother us. I get up as quickly as I can without wasting my precious drink.

“I’m gonna head back out.”

“Alright.”

I head back to the star-lit room where sleeping bags are laid out like mismatched brick throughout the floor. Some kids are cozied within, others sit on top. They’re all engrossed in the “bedtime story” being told by a local author.

It’s sweet, I think. This would become a core memory for a lot of these kids, drinking in the whole night through all their senses. I wish I had more memories like this. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so fragile all the time.

Adults staying overnight got their own gallery blankets and I drag one over to the far end, enough for any kid who needed assistance could find me but far away that I could be on my phone and not distract them.

Some time later another body joins me with his own blanket.

“Sorry,” Harry says as he sits.

“For what?” I play pretend. Just like these kids were doing tonight. What could you possibly be saying sorry for? What could I possibly feel entitled to you for? We’re just friends.

“For being weird earlier. I…well I have to tell you something and I’m being weird instead.”

My heart begins to thump in my chest.

“Tell me what?”

“So I’ve um…I’ve got a-“ Harry clears his throat. I glance up at him and he’s looking out towards the ceiling. “I have a girlfriend. I know we…we’re not…”

“Jeez Har,” even though ever atom inside of me is keeling over with something I can’t exactly examine yet, I play the joker. The friend. “If this is you telling me you’re getting serious with someone that’s all you have to say.”

“Really?” He turns to me and on the shiny hardwood floor so does half his body. I ignore how his knees feel pressing into mine. “You’re…okay?”

His voice is anything but casual.

“Yeah! It’s not like we’re a thing.”

Even still, I can’t say it. I die a little more.

“Yeah well I wasn’t expecting it. She’s the daughter of someone my dad knows? Pretty sure they orchestrated it but we went on a couple dates and then she asked…well she wanted to be exclusive I…”

“Well that’s good. For you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Thank god,” the air whooshes out of his lungs.

“I feel like I should be offended. You thought I was going to be mad or something?”

“No not mad…” he trails off. I look at his reaction and find him looking at me already. Even though it’s dark I can still see his eyes and they feel like they’re reading everything on my face. In a hushed tone he repeats himself, “not mad.”

I shrug, biting my lip hard to feel something other than the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Emotions I never thought would surface this strongly.

“I’m good. Actually I’m not good. I think that bottle we found was rubbish I’ve got to go toilet—“ I use his knee to pull myself up. “Save my spot.”

I walk away without sparing a glance back because my act is crumbling. I’m crumbling. And I don’t understand it.

If you asked me two weeks ago I would have gone on how fun it was to be with Harry but how the idea of being with him seriously would be weird. Would throw off our balance. But now I want to puke my guts in the toilet at the idea of having to let him go. Because he’s the one who moved on.

And as hard as I try tears still escape my lashline and make trails down my cheeks as I study myself in the brightly lit mirror. How could I be mad when we were just casual? How could I hate him if all he did was look for something serious. Someone serious.

Suddenly what had felt fun and mature feels childish and disposable.

I was disposable fun.

“Get it the fuck together,” I tell myself. “You’ve got nothing to cry over. You could get yourself a boyfriend too. He’s not your soulmate or something jeez.”

I blow my nose and give myself another pep talk before exiting the toilets back to where Harry waits for me.

“You alright?” He asks. A loaded question.

“Yeah. Regret doing this for the whole night though.”

“You could sleep. I’ll take first shift.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“Who gives a shit,” Harry tugs me so that I fall against his shoulder and it’s the worst thing in the world.

I don’t curl my arm through his like I might’ve before. Or cozy into his chest. I stay there like a stiff robot until sleep takes me. Even then it’s not long enough.

—1 month later—

I’m heading home after an uneventful day, ready to sink into bed and turn my brain off. These days my brain talked too much and I really wish there was an on/off switch for it.

“Um hiya?” A soft voice says as I exit the turnstile in the lobby. I turn towards the voice and it belongs to a sweet looking girl about my age with harsh features softened by a layered bob. On me it would look ridiculous but she looks like she was born to rock the style she was in.

“Hi,” the rule of thumb was even though you were clocked out if you exited from the lobby in work clothes and somebody stopped you, you had to help them. I’d forgotten to tuck my badge away today damnit.

“I’m waiting for someone? He hasn’t been answering his texts I was just wondering if-“

“You could ask reception?” I point to the desk behind her. “They can page who you need.”

“They weren’t really helpful,” she shrugs. “I’m assuming you work with him? Harry?”

It’s the last name I’m expecting from her lips. I nearly stumble back trying to take her in again with the new knowledge of who she might be.

“H-Harry?”

I’d heard her the first time. I’m just trying to grasp at a second to collect myself.

This must be his girlfriend. The one who wanted to be exclusive. And I hated that I’d liked her in our two minute interaction.

He hadn’t spoken much about her since he told me a month ago but since half of our relationship before her was being intimate, we barely talked and when we did it was mostly just work and the relationship felt really fragile and rough.

I could see what Harry saw in her—she was attractive. And not pushy; she let Joey at reception push her around which was hard to do. And she was meeting Harry here, at work. It must be getting serious.

All these thoughts race through my mind in a millisecond.

“Oh! Harry yeah,” I nod when she confirms. “Of course I know him. I think he was in a meeting might be why…I can go back in and check if you-“

“Oh no! Sorry I’m not trying to be a bother. You’re probably going home I just wanted to make sure he was still in?”

“Yeah! Yeah he’s in. I’ll tell Joey—reception, to page him if he’s out. He’s nicer than he seems.”

“That’d be perf,” she beams. I die a little more, unsure why I was helping her this much. Unsure why it bothered me this much.

Ever since Harry had ended the thing we didn’t have, my life had felt haunted. The ghosts of every emotion I killed in the moments we’d been together began to surface and they were torture. Biggest of all was regret and shame. Regret over what could have been if I’d just admitted how deeply I felt months ago. Shame because I wasn’t supposed to feel this way for Harry. Because he obviously didn’t feel the same way, he never would, and it would be embarrassing to ever admit it.

Our actual relationship had gone like this after that night—avoidance -> awkward small talk -> light bantering -> finally, being able to talk semi-normally again.

We stopped hanging out outside of work however, so every day I got to see him was a day I was excited to go into work. My friends told me I had to do something about it—confess and see what he says, or move on.

And I’d tried to move on. But every guy I tried to date didn’t hold a candle to the flame that warmed my heart; to the idiot I had the misfortune of falling for after we ended things.

Or maybe I was just the idiot.

And here I was self-sabotaging by helping his girlfriend. There was definitely something wrong with me.

“Elsie!”

Both our heads turn to the voice.

“There he is,” I say but she’s already squeezing my arm and walking towards him. Harry doesn’t realize I’m standing there and I watch him smile at her in a way that sends a spike to my heart. Then he notices me.

“Oh YN,” his eyelids flutter a few times too many. “Uh-“

“YN god sorry I didn’t even get your name,” Elsie turns back to me. “YN was helping me.”

“Yeah? Thanks,” Harry looks visibly relieved and flashes me a grin. I raise my brows and smile back.

Home. I had to get home.

“Well I figured Har already had a hard time finding a girlfriend, I didn’t want him to lose her so quickly. This isn’t even a very big place.”

Harry’s expression is unreadable but Elsie laughs.

“Very funny,” Harry responds.

“I know.” I gear myself up to say bye. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow, let you get to wherever you’re going. It was nice-“

“Well we’re just hanging out with some friends,” Elsie says.

“YN knows a few of them,” Harry says. I watch his eyes bug a little as he realizes he’s stepped onto a minefield and watch him back away smoothly. “Some of the younger crew go out for drinks sometimes.”

“Ah,” Elsie says as Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder from behind. He was laying it on thick but I don’t think Elsie noticed his hiccup. “Well why doesn’t she come!? YN you should join us! One more friend!”

“Oh I don’t think she wants to-“

“I was honestly just gonna go ho-“

I stop talking the same time Harry does.

“No you should!” Elsie says. “Don’t listen to Harry.”

I catch his eye and they’re saying please don’t.

Don’t tell me what to do, mine say.

Don’t be stubborn.

Challenge accepted.

“Ok! Maybe one drink.” I say as Harry huffs. It felt dangerous, having a non-verbal conversation in front of his girlfriend.

I was an idiot, I confirm. An idiot making bad decisions.

“Yay! Let’s go.” Elsie takes Harry’s hand and drags him to the front door. I nearly laugh at his face as he’s dragged past me—he was mad.

And it comes out a couple hours later. By then I’d had more than a single drink, have befriended most of the people I don’t know at the table and have caught up with those I do know. Harry had been mostly attached by the hip to Elsie and I tried not to stare daggers at it.

They’re an interesting couple, you can tell Harry is distracted most of the night and she tries to accommodate by being around and talking to him. He leaves a hand on her at all times but she doesn’t wrap herself around him the way I used to. Maybe she wasn’t touchy.

Maybe I was being obsessive.

So I distract myself with everyone, with drink, with a particularly cute boy who introduced himself as Elsie’s uni friend. Who happened to be brother’s with Harry’s old flatmate. Small worlds.

“YN,” Harry tugs my sleeve as Grant and I talk—if you can call heavy flirting just talking.

“What?!” I snap after the tugging gets aggressive.

“I need to talk,” He points to himself and then me, “to you.”

I could see he was well past tipsy. It wasn’t often Harry drank to this point so I follow him to find out what was going on.

I follow him to a patio table that had just been vacated, empty glasses littering the surface. An untouched shot sits in the middle. The tableau tells a story—art was everywhere.

“What?” I ask.

“What’re you doing?”

“What am I?” I laugh. “What are you doing? I think you’ve had a few drinks too many mate.”

“You’ve got drinks,” he replies.

“Yeah…” I look back at the half finished drink I left at the bar. “I did have more than I thought. I feel like I drink a lot more when there’s a lot of people around? Otherwise I’m just nursing my drink-“

“Why did you decide to come out tonight? When you’ve met my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

“When I’ve…what?! Your girlfriend invited me no thanks to you.”

“Yeah but you never come out anymore. And suddenly you want to come out when Elsie asks?”

“What d’you mean I never come out anymore?”

Harry sighs. “You stopped hanging out.”

“Yeah because you got a girlfriend? You stopped inviting me out!”

“No what? No! You’re always…it’s an open invitation I don’t need to specifically invite you out I-“

“So why did you invite me specifically before?” I call him out, feeling more sober than I was a few minutes ago. “You stopped inviting me. We stopped hanging out. And so I stopped inviting you when I went out cuz I thought you had a girl and I didn’t want to make it complicated I-“

My voice catches on an unfiltered emotion and I want to die. I feel heat creep up my cheeks as I try to swallow it down and hope Harry doesn’t notice. Fuck!

“Anyway your girlfriend invited me so I came! It’s not a big deal.”

“I didn’t…” Harry scratches his nose and looks uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to stop. I…it was complicated and I-“

“It’s fine. Whatever Har.”

“It’s not,” his brows come together. “Obviously s’not. I’m sorry? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

I almost laugh at what he’s said and how it sounds: I didn’t mean to make you feel. Well, neither did I.

“Yeah whatever. I’m not mad about it.”

“Sorry.” He says instead.

“Thanks,” I clear my throat for good measure, not wanting to be too emotional. I want to tell him I missed him but I don’t think it would be appropriate.

“I thought-“ he breaks off with a laugh. “Nevermind.”

“What?” I push him lightly. “You know I hate when people don’t finish their thought. It’s going to drive me crazy—what?”

“No this one you won’t like. Nevermind.”

“Tell meee,” I poke his shoulder until he slaps my hand away.

“Stop that! I hate when you do that!”

“I know.” I say smugly. “So?”

“It’s stupid. I thought you came here to annoy me or something. And then you’re practically sitting in Grant’s lap…”

He’s right. I wouldn’t like it.

“Hold on,” I bring my hand down on the table. “You thought I was flirting with Grant to annoy you? Why would I-what!?”

“Like I said,” he doesn’t make eye contact. “It was stupid. Nevermind!”

“No it’s not nevermind. You don’t drive what decisions I make in my love life.” Lie. “Got that?”

“Jeez you can’t get angry after forcing me to say!”

“I can!”

“Can you quit bitching I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll be as big of a bitch as I want to be.” I cross my arms.

“Unfortunately, I know.”

“That’s a completely stupid thought to have-“

“Surely not all your thoughts are winners. That’s why you don’t say all of them.” Harry says, then laughs. “Actually you do. And I always have the displeasure of hearing all of them.”

My jaw drops. “It’s like you’re purposely saying the stupidest shit right now. Like you want to be a prick.”

“C’mon you little shite,” Harry tugs my arm until they uncross. “I’m joking, remember jokes?”

I want to say something snippy, tell him off, but as my arms fall away his hand slides down until the tips of our fingers brush. It makes me feel touch-starved, like I’d been isolated in the woods for the last two months growing crazy for human touch.

Harry senses the shift and his smile dies down, his throat bobbing up and down.

How was it that Harry, out of every man I’ve ever met and continue to meet, has this effect on me? How can one touch quiet my mind so completely while pushing my heart into overdrive.

Why, I want to ask the universe. Why was it this man in front of me that made me feel so intensely?

“YN,” he says.

I should pull away. I should because his fingers creep further now pressing into my palm. I want them to slide higher until they’re tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I wanted him closer.

“I missed you,” it comes stumbling out. And the shock of it pulls me out of whatever trance I just found myself in.

I pull my hand away and Harry straightens up, his gaze clearing too.

“Sorry.” My heart is in my throat now. “Sorry. I didn’t—that was inappropriate. I’m gonna go back now…”

“Wait,” he calls out as I head back to Grant knowing my heart wasn’t in it anymore. That I was going home.

“Hm?” I try to blink away the shame as I turn back towards him.

“D-do you…regret anything?”

I raise a brow and he flushes. I was making this torture for both of us but I wanted him to ask.

Stupidly, I wanted him to know.

“Between us. I know we never…we’re just friends. But did you ever regret…us?”

I shake my head. “No. No. Never. It was some of the best times.”

It’s like I’ve said the wrong thing. His face falls and I decide I had to go. Had to. I was afraid what else might be spilled out between us.

I don’t even remember what I tell Grant, just that I grab any of my belongings that I can spot, ask him to throw his number into my phone, and hightail it out. And I nearly make it to the tube when a warm hand grips my arm.

“Get off—oh!” I nearly whack Harry with my purse but he ducks anyway. “What the fuck Har!?”

“Sorry. Sorry sorry!” He lets me go and I miss his warmth. “I didn’t realize!”

“Yeah! You can’t just grab a woman at night like that!”

“Obviously! I wasn’t thinking! I was just trying to get to you-“

“Why?”

“Bloody hell you know why YN!”

I stare at him. His face doesn’t hide a single thought, a single emotion. It’s vulnerable, and terrifying.

“Don’t take the piss.” He grabs my arms and gives me a shake. “You know. You know.”

“I-don’t do this. Har, you have a girlfriend. I don’t want to be that girl ok?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because that’s awful and-“

“No! Why didn’t you say anything when we were together? Any time we were together? When I told you I had a girlfriend? Why were you always so…cool?”

“Me? Cool?” I laugh. “There’s nothing cool about me Har.”

“Well you’re hard to fucking read then! I dunno! I was always leaving hints and signals that I actually liked you. And you always ignored them!”

“Hints? Signals?” I gape. “When the—what the hell do you call hints?!”

“I…I wanted you to meet my fucking parents for god’s sake. Did you really never-“

“If I’m hard to read so are you mate,” I lean against the closest thing—a mailbox. My legs are jelly. “Was that when you vaguely suggested I wake up in your bed while your parents were down?!”

“Fine well I bought you chocolates that one time, I’ve even got some of your tees in my room! I-I tried to plan romantic dates for us—Hampstead! I tried to tell you-“

“What?” I’m not asking him anything. I’m just questioning everything; everything I avoided and played off had meaning. Of course it did. Everything had meaning, but I’d just thrown our dictionary out the window so it would mean nothing. Because I was afraid.

“Really?!” Harry sighs. He crouches down and runs his hands through his hair. “Am I that bad? I thought I was making it so clear but you always brushed it off. I felt like an idiot for falling for you when it was just s’pose to be casual. I thought I was being a bloody simp.”

I inch down to where he crouches.

“You fell for me?” I whisper.

When he looks at me it’s with eyes that look like broken seaglass. With a mouth curved down so low that I want to kiss into a smile. Into a laugh.

He cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. I give in to the sigh and his lips lift ever so slightly.

“How could I not?”

“I thought I drove you crazy?” I grasp his hand. “I thought I was just a fun distraction I-“

“I never said the second part.” He interrupts.

“You sure?”

“You were reading the wrong hints.”

I laugh and so does he. It almost turns into tears.

He stands and extends a hand that I take, his warm palm covering mine.

“Now’s when you return the confession,” he says without letting go. “So?”

“What? I’m not hiding any confessions!”

“Liar,” he tugs me close. “Your heart’s racing.”

“That’s from getting up so quickly.”

“You’re full of shite.”

We’re smiling so hard I’m sure we look like crazy people on the street.

But he had a girlfriend. Oh god. A sweet girl I’d just met today.

His expression grows confused as mine must turn to worry. I untangle myself.

“Harry…”

“I know.” He finally clues in.

“We can’t-“

“I know.”

We stare at each other for a heartbeat.

“I’m gonna go. Or else…”

“Just like that?” He asks.

“How else is it supposed to be?” I demand. “We can’t do this Har. And please…if you like her…respect her at all—don’t break up with her just to be with me. I wouldn’t be able to stomach it.”

“Then I’m just lying to her.”

“I…” I shrug. “I dunno. I just don’t want to be the reason for her heartbreak okay?”

“You’re being a sensitive snowflake. Breaking up with her is the right thi-“

“You can’t call people snowflakes-

“I can if that’s what they’re being-“

“I’m going home.” I tell him. It’s the last thing I want to do.

He opens his mouth with whatever quick retort he always had. But he must think twice about it. His face draws into a frown.

“Sort yourself out.” I instruct him. “Just sort it out. And then one day soon we can see…y’know.”

I half turn away, but can’t bear to leave without touching him one last time. Who knows when the next time will be. I flit to him so I can press my lips against the warmth of his cheek, so intoxicating. Like an addict only sniffing the alcohol in their cup. And when I feel his body loosening, about to hold my own, I flit away and rush into the tube without a glance back.

I don’t register anything on the ride home. I’m too shocked to even cry about it.

I wash the day away, the scent of him and the look on his face when he realizes we each had been trying to hold out own glaring neon signs to each other.

It’s late when there’s a knock on my door. I figure it’s my roommate forgetting her keys, and since I’d been laying on my bed in my towel after my shower too numb to sort myself out I end up opening the door basically naked.

It’s Harry.

His eyes roam over my terryclothed figure with a smile.

“What—what are you doing here!?” I grab the edge of my towel to keep it in place.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He asks.

“No-stop!” I push my hand into his chest as he crosses through the doorway. “Why are you here?”

His eyebrows draw together, hurt. “I…I didn’t think I was that drunk—we did just admit our feelings to each other a few hours ago right?”

“Yes but!” I put my hand down because his heart is beating fast under my hand and I don’t want to feel it a second longer. “You were also supposed to sort yourself out and-“

“Can you just let me in?”

I stare at him.

He stares back.

“Fine!” I give up and move aside. He closes the door behind him. That’s when I notice his hands. “What’s that?”

“For you.” He holds a bouquet up. “I know they’re shitty. I couldn’t find much at this time of night-“

“No hold on, I don’t understand.”

“We’ve wasted enough time throwing out shitty hints that apparently neither of us could read. We should never be detectives.”

I stay still, waiting for an explanation. Any bloody explanation as to why he’s here and not with his girlfriend!

“I went back to Elise. She knew something was wrong right away. I tried to deny it. She asked if something was going on between us-“

“God seriously Har! I said not to-“

“Did you want me to go back and pretend to be in love with her when I just had a fucking bomb go off in my life!? I know you don’t want to be that girl YN but I don’t want to be that shitty guy who stays with someone because he feels bad! What does that make me?”

I can picture Elise’s face in my mind. Oh god.

“She wasn’t mad-“

“You wish.” I snort.

“No she wasn’t. Well she was at first because she thought I was with you and her at the same time. I explained. I apologized. She got it. She…turns out she was still hung up over her ex. That she really liked me but she was mostly doing it to get her parents off her back. Because they never like who she dates. Which wasn’t a great thing to hear but…I’m pretty sure I saw her catching a cab as I was leaving. Maybe she went back to her ex.”

I’m dumbfounded with his retelling of what happened after I’d left.

“She’s okay. Are we?” He asks when I don’t reply.

The bouquet looks rough, like it was maybe clutched too hard and the flowers are nearing the end of their life. I imagine Harry rifling through a flower stand to find something for me. Coming here because he couldn’t wait.

I was kidding myself. I couldn’t wait either.

“Okay.”

“Okay??” He asks but he’s closing the distance because he’s reading me. He already knows me.

“Fine.” I say as he loops his arms around my waist. I stretch my arms up around his shoulders, clasping them at his neck. Something throbs deep in my chest. I missed him.

“I missed you,” he says. Always reading my mind.

“I didn’t know I could.” I say to him. His eyes are filled with a raw emotion that mirrors whatever’s aching in my chest.

“You’re like something from the gallery,” he cups my face. “Beautiful and original, breathtaking and you pass by it every opportunity you get just to get another glimpse. It makes you realize what you’ve been missing your whole life.”

“Aw Har,” my voice wobbles. If this was Harry when he was direct and not giving shitty hints I don’t know how I was going to survive us.

“What?” He whispers.

“You’ve got a soft side. You’re not actually a prick.”

His dimples make an appearance as he smiles. “I told you. I’ve just got standards don’t I.”

I wanted all of him—god how did I fool myself this whole time. I wanted all of him. He was just so lovely. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” I whisper back. His grin disappears and he tugs me ever closer.

“You’ve already ruined me.” He says. “I can’t look at any piece of art without thinking of you. I can’t go a day without wondering about you.”

“Is that healthy?” I murmur. My heart drums.

“Who the fuck cares about healthy?” He laughs.

We gaze at each other, the blood rushes through my body at high speeds.

“Mutual ruin?” I ask.

He responds with a kiss so passionate that I forget how to breath. I’m sure my towel was being held up by our bodies at this point.

“Mutual ruin. Or you can just ruin me.” His lips brush against my ear, feather down my neck. “I’m madly in love with you YN. There’s nobody but you.”

I don’t know whether to laugh from giddiness or cry from how my heart overflows.

“Har, I think I get the hint.” I say instead. He laughs.

“Fucking finally.”

💟💟💟💟

[navybrat817]

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for Valentine's day ficlets ❤️❤️❤️

Could I please have "Go ahead, lock your doors, change your phone number. I’ll still find you.” with Lee Bodecker, pwetty pwease? Thank you!!!

Oh, this man! @perdidosbucky-yyo , since you had also requested Lee.

Late Night Visitor

Pairing: Dark!Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Summary: The sheriff pays you a visit one night.

Word Count: Over 710

Warnings: Possessive behavior, implied noncon, abuse of power, Lee Bodecker (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You were getting ready for bed when someone knocked on your door. You hadn’t invited anyone over, and it was a bit late for a surprise visitor. Grabbing your robe with a nervous breath, you tiptoed toward the front of your house. Times like this you wished you didn’t live alone. 

Maybe if you had someone looking out for you, they’d keep you safe from-

“Open up, sugar! I know you’re in there!” you heard from the other side of the door. “Ain’t polite to keep the sheriff out in the cold, so show me some hospitality and lemme in.”

You swallowed. Lee Bodecker. People either feared or respected him, or both for some. He thought he ran the town just because he had a badge, and maybe he did. 

But he never inflicted any kind of power over you. He was kind when he stopped into the diner at the same time and day every week. Used his manners with you, always left you a nice tip. So you started bringing some pie you baked from home and gave him a slice to go with his meals. You were just being polite. Nothing more.

You should’ve known he’d take your kindness as some form of courting.

“Bet you’re sweeter than any slice of pie, sugar,” he once said, lust in his eyes that he didn’t bother to hide before he tipped his hat and left.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, resting your hands against the door as if it would keep him out.

“I was hungry and wonderin’ if you had any of that pie for me to eat,” he said. Your stomach rolled as you imagined him licking his lips. “I know you bring ‘em from home just for me.”

“I was being nice,” you said, shrieking when he slammed his fist against the door.

“So was I. ‘S’why I kept them boys off your tail. Smart girl, don’t tell me you forgot?” he snarled. “Time to pay up.”

You closed your eyes. Some guys were giving you a hard time one night during an already painful shift. You mistakenly asked Lee if he could politely ask them to leave. He did. And while they didn’t care to listen to you, they shut up pretty quickly when Lee showed his gun. He made sure they all left you a nice tip, too.

“You know I’ll always take care of you, sugar,” he promised, leaving just a few moments after the group did. 

You found out the next day that Lee arrested them. Something about open alcohol containers and harrassment and resisting arrest. None of the guys around two looked at you twice anymore. You heard the whispers and saw the sneers from some of the women. Everyone thought you belonged to the sheriff.

That was the problem. You weren’t anyone’s property, and Lee would own anyone who ended up with him. That couldn’t be you.

“I didn’t forget. It’s just…” you tried to come up with an excuse. “It’s late, and I’m going to bed.”

“Just lemme in, sugar.” You froze when the door handle jiggled. The unamused chuckle that followed almost made you run. “Open the door and open them legs for me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You backed away when the handle jiggled again, your heart leaping to your throat. “Please, just go, or I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Call the cops? I am the law, Sugar,” he reminded you. He was right, and none of the deputies would help you. “Will you run? Hide? Go ahead! Lock your doors, change your phone number. I’ll still find you.”

You covered your mouth, but it did little to contain the scream you let out when Lee kicked the door open and stepped inside like he owned the place. You couldn’t back away or run as tears spilled over. Your body knew he was going to own you before the night was over, and you couldn’t fight even as your mind screamed.

“Makin’ me work for it? Not very nice, sugar,” he rumbled, strolling forward and gripping your arm. 

“Please…” you prayed. God wasn’t listening. Not today.

“Wasn’t gonna use the cuffs on you ‘til later,” he smirked, digging his finger in until you whimpered. “But I guess we’ll start tonight.”

Love and thanks for participating! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[heinousarrogance1]

the post above was the inspiration for this little fantasy, thanks @cutenbrattyyx for aloowing me to use your post here. A Room to Let 

(TW Non-Consent Fantasy)

One of the great things about living in a college town is the number of sophomore girls eager to get off campus housing.  A house conveniently located within easy walking distance of both the campus and the party strip downtown with a fairly spacious bedroom, with a private bathroom, and run of the rest of the house, a cleaner who comes twice a week, and an almost ridiculously low rent, I have a regular stream of applicants every fall. It’s a pretty easy sell even if I am a single older man.

After showing the room a couple of dozen times, I settled on taking in Jenny as this year’s tenant. A cute but also kind of timid girl, never objecting if I was standing a little too close or looking a little too long.  She showed up to move in the weekend before school started ,  and I handed her the key, gave her the wifi password, and helped her move her boxes upstairs.  The whole fatherly helper vibe.

For the first month all was well, she got comfortable around the house, even hand a couple of friends over for a study group in the dining room,  and enjoyed the absence of an RA giving her shit for stumbling in drunk at 3 AM on the weekends. Now if there is one thing you can count on from young women just out of the nest with too much freedom  it’s overspending. The first of the month rolls around and when I knock on her door and ask about the rent she’s sheepishly admitting she is a bit short and can she have a few days.  Of course Jenny.  We keep up this charade for a week and a half.  And it’s Friday night, I hear the shower run in her bathroom and the sounds of her blow dryer going so I know she's getting ready to go out.

Time for my move.  A quick rap on her door and I open it without warning,barging in  to find my cute little sophomore Jenny taking naked mirror selfies.  I stepped over to her, talking loudly about the overdue rent, but the entire time my eyes were on her lithe naked body.  One hand grabbed the wrist holding her phone,twisting it to see that she was taking photos, not video and the other went to the back of her neck, bending her swiftly over the dressing table.I pinned her down with a grip in her neck, her face almost up against the mirror.  “Rent is Due! Jenny..”

She began to beg, “please no, don’t please.. I’ll get the money..” but I just held her naked body down with one hand  in her hair at the back of her neck, as the other freed my cock. She tried to struggle but pinned down and against the dressing table there was no escape.  I pushed my cock into her and she was already wet. God she was so tight and warm around my cock. “The little slut likes showing off, doesn’t she” I growled in her ear.  

 I slammed into her over and over, each thrust bottoming out painfully inside her unwilling little cunt.   Soon her tears started and her objections and resistance  trailed off into deep wracking sobs, as if her body, if not her mind accepting that this is what had to happen.  That’s when I reached around with one hand to rub her clit, a finger gliding over it in time with each thrust into her. It didn’t take long for the little slut to respond, her hips starting to push back, grinding her ass against my almost of their own volition, which only made the rubbing of her clit more intense. It didn't take long before her tormented body betrayed her, cumming hard as she was raped in her own bedroom. 

 I paused, not wanting to cum yet, holding myself still inside her as she came down, then I  started to thrust again, this time slowly, methodically building her back up towards another orgasm.  Her sobs shifted to moans, and again my hand slipped under her to caress her hard little bud, as I moved slowly inside her. This time her orgasm built more slowly, but finally  came crashing over her in waves, making her body shudder. Her moans were feral, like an animal in heat.  I thrust in deep and began to cum inside her, groaning with the pleasure of taking her like this the first time. I would not be the last.  I picked up her phone, sent a quick text message to her friend group begging off the weekend’s activities because she felt sick. Now I had the whole weekend to fully break her.  It’s going to be fun.

bend me over and r@pe me? 🥺

[morgana-larkin]

Alright, the highly anticipated part 7 of 'Just Tired'! I have to say that I received so many compliments and comments about this series and I'm so happy that everyone is enjoying it so much! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Just Tired - Part 7

Warnings: Manipulative relationship (mentioned), swearing, sex references

Words: 4.3k

“Turn that damn thing off!” Melissa yells at the alarm that’s blasting.

“Melissa, that’s your own alarm.” You say with a yawn and she groans before she turns around and turns off her alarm. She then immediately snuggles back into you and you chuckle. “Melissa, we have to get ready for work.”

“Five more minutes please, being held is nice.” She says and you wrap your arm around her and she hums. 5 minutes go by and you rub her arm.

“It’s been five minutes Melissa.” You say gently while stroking her hair.

“No it hasn’t.” She says and you chuckle.

“I’m afraid it has.” You tell her. “It’s just before 6 and I need to get ready if I’m gonna bike to school.” You say before getting up.

“Why are you biking to school?” She asks and you look at her.

“Yesterday you told me to find my own way to school.” You say as you pick out an outfit.

“I forgot I said that. Can you drive us to work?” She asks as she gets up.

“You trust me with your car?”

“I trust you with it more than I trust myself with it right now.” She tells you as she picks out an outfit to wear from her suitcase.

“Alright, I can drive us then.” You say.

“Perfect, is it alright if I go have a shower?” She asks and you nod.

“Go for it.” You tell her and she goes to the bathroom. 

You take a breath after she leaves the room. You just shared a bed with your crush as she just split up with her manipulated husband and you’ve known her for a week and a half. You really need to get laid if you keep thinking about her and already have a huge crush on her. You both get ready and then you leave before 7 so you can stop and get some donuts that’ll cheer Melissa up. After you pick up the donuts, you drive you both to work as Melissa happily eats the donuts.

“Here.” She says and feeds you a donut as you drive. You take a bite and you smile as you chew it.

“Chocolate.” You say and she looks at you. “My favourite.”

“I might have guessed that with the fact that you have hot chocolate at home.” She tells you with a smile before she continues feeding you the donut and eating a donut for herself.

You both reach the school and you get out and you see Melissa still sitting in the car so you walk to the passenger side and open the door.

“It’ll be alright.” You tell her and hold out a hand for her. She undoes her seatbelt and takes your hand and you help her up.

As soon as you both walk in you’re being dragged by Barb and brought to her classroom, as well as Melissa who has a donut in her mouth. Melissa takes the donut out of her mouth as Barb closes the door.

“What happened yesterday?” She asks Melissa.

“Barb, we had a whole conversation about this on the phone, remember?” Melissa tells her.

“I remember, but how are you doing and how were you last night?” Barb asks her.

“Been better but I have to put it out of my mind and teach some kiddos.” Melissa says.

“Melissa, you should have taken the day off.”

“I’m fine, and it’ll help me keep my mind off of things. So please, stop worrying about me” She says to both of you before leaving the room.

“How was she last night?” Barb asks you.

“Kept asking for physical touch.” You tell her.

“That’s what helps her mind.” Barb says and hums. “Can I ask you a favour?” She asks you and you nod. “She might want to be clingy today, would you mind if she was clingy with you? You just have to tell you’re ok with any kind of physical touch if she needs it.” Barb asks you.

“I don’t mind, I can’t believe what she must be going through but I want to help her.” You tell her and go to leave the room.

“Y/n.” Barb says and you turn around to face her. “Thank you for helping to take care of her, I know Melissa appreciates it and so do I.” She tells you and you nod before leaving the room. You enter the break room and you see Melissa at the coffee machine making a new batch and you walk up to her.

“Hey Melissa.” You say to her and she glances at you before she pours some coffee in her cup. “If you need anything today then I’m here if you need me.” You tell her.

“Y/n.” She says with a sigh and you keep looking at her.

“I’m just looking out for you.” You tell her and Barb walks in and Melissa steps away from the coffee machine.

“I already told you that I’m fine.” She says, loud enough that the whole room hears and turns to look at her. “In fact I’m better than fine, I mean I couldn’t be anymore fine, I mean I’m fine. Did I mention I’m fine?” She asks and you nod.

“Ya, you did a few times.” You tell her.

“That’s because I’m extra fine.” She says before she grabs her things and heads out the door.

“What was that about?” Jacob asks.

“Nothing, and you heard her, she’s fine.” You tell them before you follow her out and you pass by Mr. Johnson on the way out.

“Interesting.” He says as he watches you follow Melissa down the hallway.

“Melissa.” You call her name as you follow her into her classroom and close the door. 

“Y/n, I’m not fine.” She tells you and you walk up to her.

“Do you want a hug?” You ask her and she nods as a few tears slip down her face. You wrap your arms around her and she immediately reciprocates and hugs you back.

“How am I supposed to get through today if I can’t even get through this morning? And morning only started 2 hours ago.” She asks as you pull away from the hug.

“Easy, by looking at your little Eagles, look at those bright little faces of theirs and it’ll put a smile on your face and you know that you don’t want to let them down. Because you’re their teacher and you’ll do anything for them.” You tell her and she looks at you. “Something another teacher taught me last year.” 

“Well, she’s right.” Melissa says and sighs.

“Just have to get through until 3pm and then you can cry or be angry all you want, or even not feel anything, totally up to you.” You tell her and she nods.

“Thank you.” She says and you nod.

“Of course, anything for the ginger goddess.” You tell her and she giggles. 

“Well can this ginger goddess ask one more thing from you?” She asks and you nod.

“Well physical touch helps me as you know, and I was wondering if, well if…”

“Of course.” You say and she looks at you.

“I didn’t finish the question.” She says and you shrug.

“You want to know if you can ask for touches if you need it.” You tell her and she tilts her head at you. “The first part of the question gave the rest away.” You tell her and she chuckles. She then grabs your hand and you look in her eyes.

“Thank you.” She tells you. “Really.” She adds and you nod.

“If I’m being completely honest, I’m enjoying the physical touches after not getting any for, well, about 5 years.” You tell her and she gives you a confused look.

“The last time I got anything was the first day I moved in with my friend and she gave me a welcome hug.” You tell her. “And that was the last time.”

“Well, I guess we’re both getting what we need out of it then.” She says and you nod.

“I guess so.” You tell her and then you hear students arriving and you look at Melissa before you let go of her hand and you see her looking a bit stressed and you get an idea. “You know, seeing as it’s still the first week and our students seem to be friends with each other, we could do a combined class and watch a movie or do a fun art project.” You suggest and she looks at you. 

“I’d love that.” She tells you and you nod before you both walk out of the classroom. You then come back near her and you grab Gracie’s hand who was trying to sneak in Melissa’s class again, before looking at Melissa.

“Your classroom or mine?” You ask her.

“Mine.” She says and you nod.

“Be there after taking attendance then.” You tell her and she nods with a smile before you cross the hall with Gracie who’s complaining. “Let me tell you a secret, Gracie. You’ll actually see your friend again in a few minutes.” You tell her as you enter your classroom.

“Ms. Y/l/n” You hear and you turn around.

“Yes?” You ask and see someone from the front office there. “One of the parents is requesting that their child is transferred to Mrs. Schemmenti’s class.” She tells you and you look at her confused and you see Melissa coming up to you both.

“Which child?” Melissa asks them.

“The student is named Gracie.” She tells you both.

“Well we both know the reason why.” You tell Melissa and she hums.

“Thanks Maia.” Melissa tells the woman and she nods before leaving.

“I’ve been asking for her name since I started and she never gives it.” You tell her.

“They don’t give their names to newbies as they never stay.” She tells you.

“Well I’m staying and I will get my cheek kiss.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you with a smile.

“You’re such a dork.” She says and then walks to her classroom. “See you in a few minutes.” She tells you before entering her classroom. 

You enter your classroom and after you take attendance, you get everyone to grab their chair and bring it across the hall to Melissa’s classroom.

“Ok, Ms. Y/l/n’s class, you can place your chair wherever you wish.” Melissa tells them all and you bring your chair right next to Melissa’s and she smiles at you. “Ok now I want you all to get into groups of 2.” Melissa says and you see all the students talking to each other. “Wanna be in my group?” Melissa asks you and you nod.

“I mean we already shared a bed so why not?” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Who isn’t in a group?” She asks and you just watch her interact with all the students as she talks them through the art project before she gets you to give 5 pieces of blank paper to each group

“So they have to draw 10 animals and write the name of them?” You ask her as everyone gets to work and she nods. “Well your students have a huge advantage as you just taught them animals the other day.” You tell her and she winks at you. “You’re playing dirty Schemmenti.” You tell her and then she starts drawing. “What are you drawing?” You ask her.

“A dog.” She says and you snort.

“I don’t know what kinds of weird ass dogs you’ve seen but that’s not a dog.” You tell her and she flicks your knee and you look at her in shock.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, and I’m not the best artist, just like you.” She tells you as she continues butchering the picture.

“Oh god, give me that, fottere.” You say as you take the drawing and she looks at you and tries not to laugh.

“Did you just swear in italian?” She asks as you fix the drawing and you nod.

“Yep.”

“And how many swear words do you know in italian?” She asks you and you shrug.

“Enough of them.” You tell her and then show her the improved drawing of the dog.

“And you said you weren’t any good at drawing.” She says. “Compared to mine this is actually good.”

“Melissa, I think any of their drawings of a dog will look better than yours.” You tease her and she looks at you wide eyes and mouth open while trying not to laugh.

“You’re sure bold to be teasing me.” She says as she begins drawing something else and you start drawing a monkey.

“It’s easy to tease you, dolcezza.” You say so naturally and she whips her head at you.

“Are you teasing me with that nickname?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“No, I think you’re sweet so I called you sweet, or at least something close to that as I think dolcezza means more dear or doll.” You tell her.

“Dolcezza is a word that can be used to describe sweet or sweetheart.” She says and you smile at her.

“It’s perfect then.” You tell her and show her the picture of your monkey.

“I like it, cara mia.” She says before showing you her picture of a bird.

“Oh, using nicknames as well?” You ask her and she nods with a smile.

“Ok, Tesoro.” You say and she leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, quirks her eyebrows and has a smirk.

“Are you challenging me to nicknames in italian? Cause if you are then need I remind you that I’m Sicialian?” She says

“You’re also American like me, so maybe I am.” You tell her and she smiles. 

“How about un accordo?” She says and you look at her.

“What kind of agreement?” You ask her.

“Damn, you know italian more than I thought you would.” She says before looking back at you. “Let’s keep talking but every sentence has to have at least one italian word in it, first one that can’t, loses.” She says and you quirk an eyebrow at her before shaking her hand.

“You got yourself an accordo.” You say and she smiles.

10 minutes pass by and Melissa is looking at you with a smirk. You’re weighing your options out before you sigh.

“Alright I fold, you win.” You tell her and she giggles. “You’re the italian queen.” You add.

“Damn right.” She says and then winks at you. “If it makes you feel better, you lasted 10 minutes longer than I thought you would.” She tells you and you look at the time.

“It’s only been 10 minutes.”

“I know.” She tells you with a smirk and she sees you pouting but that makes her laugh. She then shows you the picture of the horse she drew.

“Not bad, so it’s just dogs that you have trouble drawing?” You ask her and she nods.

“You made it really good though. Why are you good at drawing them?”

“I used to draw my dog all the time when I was growing up.” You tell her as you continue you’re drawing.

“You had a dog growing up?” She asks and you nod.

“I did, a golden retriever. My parents got me her as I was a single child and saw that I did a lot of things by myself.”

“You’re lucky that you’re an only child.” She says. “Siblings are annoying.”

“You have a sibling?”

“I have 8 of them.” She says and you widen your eyes.

“8 siblings?” You ask in disbelief and she nods. “Damn, I thought you were gonna say you have like 1 or 2 siblings, not 8.” You say.

“Well most of them might choose to stop talking to me when they hear I’m getting divorced. My Ma might as well, or at least take me out of the Christmas dinner rotation, which is a huge dishonour in my family.” She tells you.

“Your family just casts people out without a thought?” You ask and she nods.

“I already stopped talking to one of my sister’s after Nana died, she brought one of Nana’s dishes to the wake but did it wrong.” She tells you and you tilt your head and give her a weird look.

“Wait, you stopped talking to one of your sister’s because she brought a messed up meal?” You ask her.

“Well not completely, she left my whole family high and dry when Nana got sick. Then showed up to Nana’s wake with a bad dish, that was the nail in the coffin. Metaphorically as Nana was cremated.” She explains to you. “We didn’t have a pet when I was growing up, although my 8 younger siblings were crazy enough that we didn’t need something else causing chaos.”

“You’re more of an enigma than I am, actually you’re a whole level by yourself.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“And this is the panda, which is spelled p-a-n-d-a.” Gracie finishes explaining her and her friend’s animals.

“Good job Gracie and Nancy.” You tell them and they nod before going to sit down. Just then the bell rings and you and Melissa sit up to round up both the classes.

“I’ll be up front, you should be in the back to make sure there’s no troublemakers as there’s 40 kids.” Melissa tells you and you join the kids at the back of the line. 

“Ms. Y/l/n?” One of the students say and you look at him.

“Yes?”

“Why did we have classes with Mrs. Schemmenti’s class?” He asks you.

“For fun. We wanted everyone to get to know other kids in the same grade as them, makes it more fun.” You explain to him.

“But there’s 3 second grade classes.” He says.

“Well we couldn’t fit like 60 students in one classroom.”

“So we’ll have a combined class with Ms. Teagues classroom as well?”

“We’ll have to see.” You tell him and reach the caf.

Melissa makes sure that all the students has a lunch and then she looks over to see you bending down to talk to one of your students before he hugs you and you hug him back. Then you stand back up and make your way over to Melissa before you both walk to the break room.

“What were you talking about with that student?” She asks with a smile.

“He was telling me that he’s glad I’m his teacher this year.” You tell her and she hums.

“The kids already love you and it’s been 2 and a half days? That’s impressive.” She tells you and you smile. “By the way, how old are you?”

“I’m 25.” You tell her and you see her eyes widen.

“Jesus christ, I can’t believe I’m friends with someone who’s 23 years younger than me.” She says and you stop her by walking in front of her.

“Wait, did you just say…friends?” You ask her and it seems like her brain caught up with what she said. “We’re friends?”

“Yes, the teacher who doesn’t make friends with newbies, made friends with one newbie. If you tell the other 2 then I’ll have no problem kicking you out of my life.” She threatens and you smile while nodding.

“Does this mean I can also sit next to you at lunch?”

“We’re not that close.” She says while pushing you out of the way to the door to the break room.

“Melissa, Y/n, did you really do a combined second grade class without me?” Janine asks and Melissa nods. “Why was I excluded?” She complains.

“It’s none of your business short stack.” Melissa tells her.

“But-”

“Janine, just drop it ok.” You tell her as you sit down across from her. She sits back in her seat with a pout and you roll your eyes. “Pouting won’t get you anywhere or puppy dog eyes. I had a dog growing up and I’m now immune to them if a human uses them on me.” You tell her before she sighs.

“It just feels like you’re excluding me even though we’re friends.” Janine tells you

“We are friends but none of this had anything to do with you.” You tell her.

“What does it have to do with then?” Jacob asks.

“It has to do with something that’s none of your business, like Melissa said.” You tell them both and you see Melissa smiling at you. “By the way, Melissa, how’s it going with that dyslexic kid?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“It’s good, I spoke with her and the parents at the end of the day on Monday and they’re happy how we’ll all be helping her.”

“Wait, you and Melissa both have dyslexic kid in your class?” Janine asks you and you shake your head.

“Just Melissa, she got transferred to Melissa’s class. Although that makes 2 kids that Melissa has taken from my class.”

“If you really want then I could have it where Nancy is transferred to your class instead so I can have 20 kids instead of 22.” Melissa tells you. “I mean that’s the only reason that Gracie wants to be in my class is because Nancy is there.” Melissa tells you and you hum.

“I thought you were getting the dyslexic student?” Janine asks you.

“You ask a lot of questions short stack.” Melissa tells Janine.

“It’s not a bad thing to be curious.” Jacob says and Melissa glares at him and he immediately shuts up.

30 minutes later Melissa gets up and she walks out while sending you a text. Once she’s gone you go to her contact and look at the text.

Melissa: Need you

You read and then you look at Barb who nods before you begin packing up your stuff.

“I just remembered I have to photocopy some papers for the next project. I have enough for my class but not enough for Melissa’s.” You tell them and then get up.

“Wait, you’re combining with Melissa’s class for the whole day?” Janine asks and you nod.

“It was only going to be half the day but half of my students are friends with her students. I think they were in grade 1 together. So we thought we’d just do the whole day, have a good afternoon.” You tell them and then leave.

You get to Melissa’s classroom and you see her swinging in her seat. You walk up to her and stop her seat and she looks at you. 

“What’s up?” You ask her as you sit in your seat.

“I was thinking about something that Joe told me a few times, that I was lucky that he wants me because no one else will.” She tells you.

“That’s just a downright lie and you both know it. You are the WHOLE package while the only thing he’s got going on for him is his package, and it’s probably not even that good.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks and you nod. “At the beginning, sex was good. But for the past 15 years he never made sure I finished, I’ve been having to satisfy myself after.” She tells you.

“Wow, that’s such a let down for you.” You tell her and she hums. “When I have sex with a girl, I always make sure she finishes however many times she wants.” You say and you miss Melissa’s eyes get darker.

“Well all the girls you’re with are lucky.” She tells you and you look at her. You slip your shoes off and then you put your feet on her chair beside her legs and lightly swing her back and forth. 

“Maybe you could be lucky too.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “Have you ever been with a woman?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“Only men as it wasn’t an acceptable thing in the 90’s.” She tells you and you hum.

“Do you want to be with women? Because I know the perfect bar we could go to and many women would be dying to have sex with you.” You tell her and you see a blush reach her cheeks.

“Ok, but-but not this weekend as I haven’t even told Joe that we’re over yet. All I did was pack my things and elbow him in the face. Although I did tell him that I didn’t need him anymore.” She says.

“You could tell him right now, over text.” You tell her.

“Isn’t that a shitty thing to do though?”

“It is, if the person hasn’t been a manipulative asshole for 25 years.” You counter.

“I’ll send him a text after school is done. That way I don’t have to teach a class after whatever he sends back to me.” She says and you nod.

“You might have to go back to my place to get your things as you wanted to stay at Barb’s tonight.” You tell her.

“About that, can I stay at your place for one more night? Barb said she’ll set up the extra bedroom for me tonight but asked if I could stay with you again.”

“Of course, you’re always welcome at my place.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

At the end of the day you’re saying goodbye to all of your students and then Melissa comes up to you when they’re all gone.

“Ready to go?” She asks and you nod before you go and grab your things and head out with Melissa.

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[lvnleah]

Bug’s Valentine’s

based on this cute idea 🥹

When Viv was home from Manchester you always knew it meant one thing. You’d get what you had nicknamed a “Vivi day.” That meant that you got to spend an entire day with Viv, sometimes even sleeping over at her and Beth’s flat.

“Bug,” Viv said, grabbing your attention from where you sat on the floor playing with Myle. “Is there anything you want to get Mummy for Valentine’s Day?”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as your little brain tried its hardest to think.

You looked up at Viv, frowning slightly. “What’s bal…bal-en-tines?”

Viv chuckled, sitting down on the floor beside you. “Valentine’s Day, Bug. It’s a day where you give people you love something nice to show them you care.”

Your face lit up instantly. “Like Mummy?”

“Yeah,” Viv nodded. “Like Mummy.”

You gasped. “I need a present!”

Viv smiled. “That’s what I was thinking. Do you know what Mummy likes?”

You tapped your chin, thinking very hard. “She like football. An’ smoothies. No yucky green ones!”

Viv laughed. “That’s true.”

You thought some more. “Mummy like cuddle!”

“That’s a good one,” Viv said. “But maybe we can get her something extra special too.”

Your eyes got very big. “Like what?”

Viv smirked. “Hmm, how about flowers?”

Your whole face lit up. “YES!”

Viv stood up and held out her hand. “Alright then, let’s go get Mummy some flowers.”

You grabbed her hand and bounced to your feet. “I wan’ pick pink one!”

“Then we’ll find the best pink ones,” Viv promised.

The flower shop was very pretty, and you were very serious about picking the best flowers for Lotte. You looked at all of them, even sniffing a few before picking the biggest pink ones you could find.

“These,” you said, nodding very seriously. “Mummy like these.”

Viv smiled and helped you get them all wrapped up nicely. When the lady gave them to you, you hugged them very tight.

“Careful, Bug,” Viv said, adjusting the paper a little. “You don’t want to squish them.”

“I won’t!” you promised, holding them even tighter.

Viv just laughed and paid before taking your hand. “Let’s go surprise Mummy.”

You waited very patiently, only asking Viv a million times when Lotte would be home, but finally the door opened.

“MUMMY!” you yelled, as Viv opened the door to her flat.

Lotte barely had time to say hello before you shoved the flowers at her. “For you! For bal…balentines!”

Lotte blinked, clearly surprised, but then her whole face softened. “Bug… did you pick these for me?”

You nodded very fast. “Yeah! Vivi help but I pick the pink one all by myself!”

Lotte smiled before kneeling down and pulling you into a cuddle. “Thank you, baby. They’re beautiful.”

You beamed, snuggling into her. “You like ‘em?”

“I love them,” Lotte said, kissing the top of your head. “And I love you.”

Your little heart felt so happy.

“Happy Balentines, Mummy!”

Lotte chuckled, holding you close. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bug.”

[nagaytoe]

Cor Meum

(Latin) [noun] my Heart

Ć̷͚̇ŗ̷̧̨̡͍̺̤̠͎̱̬͙̥̝̤̆̈́̈͌́́̀̀̐̓̈́̉̈́̽͂́͐͋̓͛̔̈́̓̋͆̔̀͗̄̆̌́͂̕̚͘͠͝o̴̧̜̭͇̣̘̫̜͍͚͈̰̣͚͈͉͉̝͔͇̾̿̏͛͗̑̚͜͝͝ͅw̶̧̛͖̭͚͈̙̬̯̼̬̻͇̹͊̓̈́̔̋͆̊̆͛͜͠ͅ-̷̢̧̘̜͈̞̻̳̫̠̟̘̳̜̬̗̪͗̈́S̸̨̡̢̼̺̤̮̰͍̺̞̃̏̀̓̇͌͐̉̑͒̈́̃͂̈́̌͆̍̓͗͌̽͐͌̚͝͠͝ͅǫ̵̺̜̝̫͇̼͉̫̪̫͈̹͕̱̱̳̝̱͔̫͚̟̭͍̫̖̭̲̞̩̱͔͓̘̪̝̦̜͓̟͉̐̐́̊͂́̐̀̿͂͘̕͠l̷̡̧̨̧̰͔̪̳̪̼͉̥̹̩̞͎̘̣̱̦̞̳̙̲̤̣̹͔̦̣͚̞͉̗͉̝̰̝̟͉̼͓͖̝̈̈͂͆͋̑͒̈͑́̈́̇͆͂̈́̃̂̏̿̐̽̀̊̃̏̉͘̕͘͘͜͜͜͝ͅX Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Requests: Open

TWs, Tags: Multilation, Murder, Guts, Vomiting, Delusion, Manipulation, Crowe and Reader are in an established relationship, Sol and Reader don't formally know each other

Pink heart garlands decorated the hallways, the faint scent of roses permeating the air, despite the amount of people here. Some students' lockers, once again including Geo’s, were filled to the brim with love letters. You couldn’t fathom why people made such a big deal of this day, treating it equally to far more important holidays.

Nonetheless, this year, you were not as unaffected by the Day of Love as you usually were but who was to blame for that? None other than Jericho Ichabod.

The two of you were together for almost half a year and it was by far the best time period of your life. You could not wish for a sweeter, more attentive boyfriend than him and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined a future with him every now and then - like moving in together, getting married, adopting some animals.

“Are you even listening to me?” A feminine, smokey voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked over to the blonde girl next to you with wide eyes. Brtittney sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with bright pink acrylic nails.

“Seriously? I’m trying to help you here, you know?”

It was true, you had asked Brittney to help you pick out a Valentine’s day present for your beloved Crowe, since you couldn’t settle for one single thing.

The presents were either too dull, too basic for someone like him, other ideas were way too personal and expensive for Valentine’s day and were better suited for his birthday.

Brittney and you pushed through the crowd of students as you were on your way to the cafeteria.

“Sorry, Brit, I just… I feel like such a bad partner for not immediately coming up with something fitting for him…” Your eyes were cast down to the floor as you sighed heavily. The girl next to you rolled her eyes and smiled at you, nudging your side with her elbow. “You are not a bad partner, seriously, I don’t think I have ever seen Crowe this happy. You could probably give him a random stone you picked up from the street and he’d treasure it like a diamond necklace.”

She wasn’t wrong, Crowe wasn’t the materialistic type by any means, but you still wanted to give him something meaningful.

“I was thinking about getting us a sun and moon necklace, but I’m not sure whether he will like it or not .”

The blonde woman sent a deadpan expression your way, as if to ask you if you were being serious.

Averting your gaze, you were left to admit that he would most likely like it a lot. He liked jewelry, he liked celestial bodies, there was no chance he wouldn’t love it, if you were being frank.

“The only challenge is how you’re gonna get that, though. I doubt any local shop has this exact piece of jewelry in store right now.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you thought about ways you could possibly obtain this present for him.

“I’m sure some shop has the charms I need, I can just make the necklace myself.”

Brittney nodded at you in agreement, before pushing open the door to the cafeteria.

-

After almost an hour of looking for the charms you needed, you finally managed to find the perfect ones. A simple, golden sun with a small, round gemstone right in the center of the charm for you and a silver crescent moon, an oval gemstone adorning the middle for Crowe. Getting them was a hassle, especially since the mall was filled to the brim with people frantically searching for Valentine’s day presents. However, getting something sweet for Crowe was worth enduring the suffocating crowd.

Once you arrived at your apartment, you immediately beelined towards your bedroom to get to work, shopping bag in tow. Sitting down on your soft bed, you carefully unpacked the pendants, along with two black leather cords to attach the charms to.

It reminded you of when you were younger, when times were easier. Back then, you made necklaces like these for fun, to give to your parents or friends as presents. To you, it always felt far more personal than store bought jewelry. Of course, now that you were grown-up people expect you to give them presents other than hand-made ones, but you knew Crowe would never judge you, especially not for pouring time and effort into making something for him.

Taking a look towards the clock attached to the wall right over your bedroom door, you noticed you had two hours left until Crowe would come over.

The two of you had decided to meet up at your place in the evening and spend the night together, especially since Valentine’s day was on a friday this year. Perhaps tonight you could take things to the next level in your relationship. It was not like neither of you wanted to have sex, but he was your first boyfriend and you did not want to rush things, a decision he was perfectly fine with. A rush of warmth spread through your body at the thought, causing you to feel giddy as you got to work.

Time ticked by, soft music played in the background which you put on right before you started creating the necklaces. Looking at the time, you noticed not even half an hour had passed and you were already finished, the sun necklace already hanging around your neck. You pondered for a moment and decided to watch your favorite show in the meantime, during your wait for Crowe. While you turned on your TV, your mind wandered back to the walk towards the mall. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, constantly looking over your shoulder as you made your way towards your destination. It was a feeling that had accompanied you for quite some time now and since you’ve been with Crowe it has only gotten worse. You shook your head, trying to disperse the thought. Due to the lack of another explanation, you decided your imagination must be playing tricks on you. Eventually, you put on the show and decided to relax a little, longing to get rid of the familiar tickling feeling right behind your ribcage, the feeling of dread. Losing yourself in your favourite show seemed like a good way to escape your thoughts right now.

-

Your gaze wandered towards the clock and you noticed Crowe was running half an hour late already. Usually he was never late to anything, but whenever that was the case he informed the person waiting for him. Grabbing your phone, you opened his contact and called him.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times and a few more after that until you were sent to his mailbox.

Worry started to settle deep in your stomach. What if something happened to him? You knew that this town wasn't the safest, danger lurked in every dark corner and especially with how dark it was outside during this time of the day, your fear was not unjustified.

Just as you went to try for another call, the doorbell rang. Heaving a sigh of relief, you sprang off the bed and rushed towards the door, not bothering to turn off the show.

“Hey, I was starting to-”

It was not Crowe standing in front of your door.

Red eyes locked with yours as you gazed up at the man in front of you in confusion.

“Can I help you?”

The man looked vaguely familiar, if you remember correctly you shared a class with him.

He nodded and smiled, although it looked strained, like he was forcing himself to keep his composure.

“May I come in?”

Just then you noticed the box in his hands, causing you to cock your head to the side as you eyed him up and down for a moment. Black dress shoes, dark green pants with a chain in a lighter shade attached to the waistband and a black shirt. Underneath, a green-black striped long sleeve peeked out, effectively covering his arms. Straight, shoulder-length black hair, some green streaks scattered across the strands, framed his pale face but the most intriguing feature were his piercing vermillion eyes.

“I’m expecting a visitor…” You rubbed your arm awkwardly, trying to ease the tension coursing through your body. What was it about this man that made you feel so on edge?

His eye twitched ever so slightly and the corner of his mouth quirked downwards a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gone before he is here.”

Shaking your head, you stood your ground. You didn’t know this man, nor did you know what his intentions were.

His smile dropped and his eyes narrowed as he stretched out his arms, offering the present for you to take.

“Will you at least take a look at what I brought you?”

You eyed the box suspiciously, taking it from his hands with hesitance evident in your movements.

“Come on,” he nudged you, an unsettling smile on his face once more. “Open it.”

The man almost seemed excited as you began to take the lid off the box. Your blood froze as you gazed upon the contents.

A heart.

Blood smeared all over and a note to top it off:

With this I ask your Love

Give into me, let yourself fall.

For when push comes to shove

You will be all mine, after all.

You dropped the box in shock, your hands coming up to clutch over your mouth as you looked at the man in horror, a crooked grin spread over his features.

“Do you like it? Did you notice the initials I carved into it? It was quite troublesome, muscle is a tough material for engraving.”

Taking a step back you went to slam the door shut, launching the box outside in the process. However, just before it could fully close, the man stuck his shoe in between the door and the frame.

“What’s the matter, Pumpkin? I thought you wanted his heart so bad?" The man spat out the words as he pushed the door open, overpowering you with barely any effort.

He stepped over the doorstep, kicking the box further into the apartment and closing the door behind him.

"I would have given you my own heart, but I still need it to love you.” Gazing upon you, a sinister smile graced his features.

You felt bile rise in your throat.

“Do you not recognize it? The heart, I mean. Seems like you didn’t hold it as dear as you were supposed to, huh?”

His chuckle caused you to throw up all over the floor in front of you.

“Oh, Pumpkin, don’t worry. I am glad, actually. That means you never truly loved him, did you?”

He took a step closer.

“Perhaps… he was just a distraction until you found your true soulmate?”

Another step.

“Is that it, Pumpkin? I am here now, you need not longer endure his presence.”

Just then it hit you.

You never mentioned that the visitor was male.

This was not some elaborate sick joke, this man in front of you killed someone, your Lover's blood was on his hands.

Your gaze snapped up to meet his, eyes wide in shock and brows furrowed in fury.

“What…what did you do?” It took far too much effort to speak as you choked out each word.

The man stepped over the contents of your stomach strewn across the floor and stretched out his hand in a comforting gesture, though it felt more looming than anything else.

“I just took care of the trash.” He said it in such a nonchalant fashion that it made you sick.

Slapping his hand away, you quickly backed away, your mind racing as you contemplated your next move.

His gaze darkened, the red eyes staring at you grew into slim slits.

“Pumpkin, are you not happy I have freed you of him?”

This guy was nuts, just what on earth was he talking about?

“We can finally be together, just you and me with no one else in the way.”

His eyes locked onto your necklace and the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.

“What the hell are you talking about, I don't even know you!”

Taken aback by your statement, the man momentarily stopped in his tracks, hurt lacing his facial features now.

“I'm Sol, you… you know me.” He said it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, as if he couldn't wrap his head around the fact, the mere possibility of you not knowing him.

“We've been in the same art class for three years…three years which I spent desperately trying to get your attention.”

Slowly but surely he grew irritated.

“Look, Sol,” You tried your best to diffuse the situation for that is your only option as of now. “I'm sure I have seen you around, but you have never talked to me, have you?”

Sol's brows furrowed in irritation now.

“I have talked to you before, I have tried to befriend you and gain your affection, but you?”

The man scoffed as he stepped closer, his pace not slow and careful anymore but fast and purposeful. Before you knew it, he had your upper arm in a bruising, vice-like grip.

“You cut the conversation short. Every. Time. You disregarded me over and over again.”

He leaned in closer to your face and you felt a heavy weight settle in your stomach.

“I didn’t get why…and I have tried with all my might to prevent blood-shed, but you forced my hand, Pumpkin. The moment you officially started dating that slug, I knew I had to get active… I couldn't idly stand by and watch someone take the love of my life from me.”

He cupped your cheek with his free, ice cold hand and you started breathing faster.

“I tried to win you over, even as you were dating him but you acted like you weren't interested in me in the slightest… Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?”

Sighing, he lowered his head momentarily.

“And now seeing this necklace on you… you always knew you were mine, didn't you? Even if it was some part hidden in the depths of your heart…”

The sun necklace.

Sol meant sun.

You unintentionally marked yourself as his property, further playing into his delusions.

“Were you just stringing me along, wanting to see how far I would go for you? You were aware of my presence all this time, weren't you?”

Sol leaned in closer, shuddering in delight as he took a deep breath, inhaling your scent.

”All those years I've spent longing for you, watching your every move…”

Your breathing grew ragged, the panic in your stomach increased tenfold at the realisation and coursed through your entire body.

“It was all worth it. And to know you love me too… it's better than anything I could ever imagine.”

With every word he spoke you took more eager breaths, trying to calm yourself but ultimately ending in hyperventilation. Tears streamed down your face, which he wiped away with his thumb, the touch feather-light and filled with adoration. Had anyone else done it, had Crowe done it, it would have been comforting, but coming from him, especially in the current situation it disgusted you more than anything.

“Shh, Pumpkin, calm down, I'm here…it's alright…”

Sol pulled you closer to him, wrapping his strong arms around you.

You failed to recognize the words he muttered, too occupied with your own thoughts.

You could have prevented this.

You are the reason Crowe is dead.

If only you had been less ignorant.

The world around you started swaying a little, the lack of proper oxygen due to hyperventilation getting to you.

Sol carefully picked you up and as much as you wanted to thrash in his grasp, you couldn't, far too disoriented and weak to do so. Your arms were aimlessly flaying around, only earning a few grunts from him whenever you managed to hit him.

“Let's relax a little… I see you left your favourite show on, perfect to relax to, isn't it?”

He laid you down on the bed, climbing in right after and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace once more.

You could feel your consciousness slipping away and no matter how desperately you tried to hold onto it, it was no use, you couldn't will your body to breathe more calmly and evenly.

He kissed the top of your head and tried to comfort you, although it did nothing but unsettle you further.

“Don't worry, Pumpkin…I'm here now and I won't leave until your visitor arrives.”

Your visitor won't ever arrive.

Sol won't leave you anymore, will he?

A sinister chuckle with an edge of playfulness to it, echoed from his direction as he spoke the last words you heard before passing out.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pumpkin.”

[starrdevereauxx]

Caught Outdoors

By Starr Devereauxx 💋

Dev has been keeping a low profile since the incident at Brandon’s wedding. She’s been doing her best to keep her head out of her lustful thoughts and get back to business. It’s been hard for her to find her rhythm back to normalcy.

Taking a pause on her photography, Dev decided to take time to just pour into her and find out what her goals and aspirations are. Dev is really looking into herself and figuring out what really moves her.

One morning Dev went for a walk to a beautiful park nearby. She felt the need to be outside, since nature is one of her favorite places to be. She took her journal, her morning coffee, and her favorite headphones and took a seat on a bench under a beautiful weeping willow tree. She wore a pink plaid skirt with a red heart crop sweater that barely covered her pierced nipples. The sun was shining all over her freshly oiled body as she began to journal her inner thoughts.

“Dear Journal,

Since I let Brandon fuck me, all I do is think about being fucked all the time. Submitting all my holes to anyone, any time, anywhere. My body aches to be used by a dick whenever I see someone just walking by me. I was in the store yesterday and a man said hello to me, I instantly wanted his dick in my mouth. Just to suck him til he came all over my mouth and down my throat. I wanted to feel his hands all over my body while he took out his frustrations on my tight pussy and my plump asshole. I wanted to be delightfully punished, then sent on my way. I’m so horny right now. I could fuck myself right here just thinking about it…..”

Dev noticed that her panties instantly became soaked while she was writing. Her intrusive thoughts got the best of her and she had get this nut out of her, her pussy was aching with excitement.

Dev looked around to see who could see her. There were a few passers by but not a lot of people. She parted her legs towards the sun and reached down in her panties, opening her lips and gently rubbing her clitoris gently as it began to get wetter and wetter the deeper her thoughts went. She kept her eyes open to see who could see her, almost not caring she began to rub harder. She took her other hand and put her fingers in her asshole, pushing in and out. She imagined in her mind that a stranger was taking her anal cavity for a hard rough ride, while another stranger ate her pussy from the front.

Dev began to moan loudly in the middle of the park, taking deep breaths and dripping all over the bench, getting closer and closer to climax. There was a rustle in the bushes behind her. She quickly paused to look around to make sure she didn’t have an accidental audience. She didn’t see anyone, so she continued to her climactic journey.

Rubbing aggressively against her clitoris and fingering her asshole, mouth wide open feeling an imaginary dick inside it as she squirted all over her panties, the bench and even watered a flower below. Dev’s flushed face showed her satisfaction as she pulled herself together to walk home. She removed her underwear and carried them home, letting her thick chubby pussy blow in the wind underneath her skirt. The light breeze tickled and teased her with every step she took.

On her way home, she couldn’t help like she was watched the entire time she was out there. Not that she cared about being watched, but just wanted to remain safe outside vulnerable for the taking.

Dev made it back home and showered to prepare for the rest of her day. Soon as she was finishing her shower, a note slid under her door. She jumped back immediately frightened. Who would do such a thing? Was she seen at the park? Was she followed home?

Wrapped in her bath towel, she bends down to pick up the envelope. It’s addressed to “the gardener”. Dev became puzzled by the title, but opened it any way.

The letter read..

“My dick throbbed watching you water the flowers. Next time, you’ll be doing that on my throbbing dick”

Dev didn’t know how to feel. One part of her was scared to death of a stranger watching her and following her home. On the other hand, she was aroused at being objectified and being used to cum. A part of Dev enjoyed the thought of some stranger jacking his member to her pleasing herself. She put the note in her journal and kept going about her day.

Dev ran some errands, had a few meetings and then went to a near by cafe to finish up some work. The entire day went extremely well, but she couldn’t get over the fact that someone watched her fuck herself in public. She decided to take the long way home and ended up passing the park she was at during this morning’s sunrise. Seeing how the sun was starting to set, she felt this was the perfect time to do her evening journal entry and take in the sunset.

Dev pulled her car up the park and took her journal to the same unoccupied bench she sat at this morning. This time she was wise and removed her panties before she even got out the car, just incase she was inspired to “garden”.

She pulled out her journal and the letter fell out. She thought, “I wonder if he’s out here right now?”, then took the letter and sniffed it. Taking a long deep breath, she felt her blood rushing and couldn’t hold back any longer. She parted her legs, pussy already dripping with anticipation.

The bushes began to move. She jumped up.

“Hello, someone there?” Dev called out.

Nothing.

She walked around the bench and close to the bush to see if she could see someone.

Nothing.

Then suddenly rushing towards her, a tall figure came behind her, holding her hands behind her back and subduing her. Dev couldn’t break free.

She could feel his dick poking her in her back, hard as steel. He’s breathing hard on her neck, and it’s making her increasingly horny. For a second, he just holds her and they are just standing there breathing hard. Dev breaks the silence.

“Sir, what are you doing?” She said softly.

“I see you got my note” he said while his other hand begins to take off his belt and open his pants.

“Sir please, I don’t know what you want.. don’t hurt me” Dev begs.

“You came here because you want this. I’m gonna treat you like the little slut you are” he replies, dick fully exposed.

Dev immediately feels her mouth water. She manifested this moment and she wasn’t about to let it pass her by. He was right, she did want this, and now she’s gonna get it.

The stranger begins to massage her big vanilla breasts as he’s telling her all the things he’s going to do with her. Dev isn’t even putting up a fight. She’s acting helpless but hoping for all the things he’s saying. She continues to beg him to stop, and her begging is only turning him on more.

The stranger’s dick is pulsating so hard that he can’t bare to hear her talk anymore. He pushes her on her knees and forces his giant dick in her mouth. Dev’s eyes and pussy begin to water. He thrusts his member back and forth, in and out of her wet mouth. He released a hard breathing moan. Dev begins sucking his dick so well, she almost forgets that she’s being forced. The stranger begins to go harder using her throat as his personal fuck toy.

“Suck my dick like a good little whore. I’m going to make you my little cum dump. You are gonna drink my cum. You wanna drink my cum you little bitch?” He said lustfully to Dev.

She shakes her head yes with delight in her teared filled eyes.

He drops his head back and smiles. He begins to go harder. Dev can barely breathe. He’s training her throat in the middle of the park. The sunset is their backdrop to this dick sucking event.

It’s been about 15 mins and he’s close to releasing his orgasm.

Dev awaits his cum.

The stranger holds his head up and grabs her by the back of the head.

“I’m about to cum, open your mouth wide slut. Open your throat for me. Swallow me bitch. I’m right there, I’m rig-“

He explodes in her mouth, filling her mouth with a giant load of his cum. It’s spilling out the corners of her mouth and her eyes are wide as she chokes a little.

She gulps and then licks her lips clean, Leaving no trace of his load. Dev opens her mouth to show him that she’s swallowed him whole.

He pats her on the head in approval.

“Good girl, that’s my good little whore” the stranger smiles.

Dev smiles back “thank you sir”

She gets up and walks back to get her journal off the bench and walks back to her car. Just to see another note on her window.

She looks around to see if the stranger is around and he seems to have vanished in the wind.

“I’ll be seeing you again soon” the note reads.

Dev holds the note close to her chest and smiles. She starts her car and drives home. As she drives home, her body is still reacting to what has happened.

She pulls into her parking garage and sits there for a moment before gathering her things.

She unlocks her car and gets out. Waiting for the elevator to get to her high rise apartment, she’s holding the note in her hands. She makes it to her door.

Dev punches in the code to her door and suddenly someone covers her mouth and said

“I hope this isn’t too soon”

The door opens.

To be continued…..

[sjsmith56]

Nothing More Real

Summary: AU story of an established actor, directing his first film, visiting a bookstore he wants to film in and falling for the owner. Told from her POV.

Length: 6.5 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (unnamed and mostly undescribed)

Warnings: some slight drama over filming romantic or sexy scenes but the rest is fluff

Author notes: That recent selfie of Sebastian Stan was the inspiration except I interpreted it as him taking a picture of someone he loved. There are elements of Sebastian in this (his love of books, reference to acting in nude scenes, his open support for women) but I made him an AU version of Bucky Barnes who is successful but wanting more out of his career and his personal life. With this being Valentine’s Day I thought it was a good day to post it.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, then was slightly startled by the gentle knock on the door. A polite voice on the other side asked if I was ready for my makeup. She didn’t say anything about me holding anyone up, or that she had other clients waiting on her, even though I knew I was doing exactly that. Tightening the belt of the hotel robe that I wore over the large towel wrap, I opened the door and came out to the makeup specialist, Mandy. The hair stylist, Georg, was in the adjoining room, preparing Bucky.

“Sorry, nerves,” I explained. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s alright,” said Mandy, putting her hand on mine and squeezing it. “Bucky explained everything. All the spouses and girlfriends go through this at one time or another. You’ll be fine. If you would remove the robe to expose your shoulders and come sit in the chair we’ll get started.”

I did as she said, then sat on the tall stool, as she placed a soft hair band on my head, to keep the hair off my face while she cleansed it. She complimented my skin, raving over the skin care regimen I must follow and the beautiful colouring I had. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I still used plain old over-the-counter products that I bought at the drug store, and rarely wore makeup at all. As she worked I kind of tuned out thinking over what had led me to this very moment.

Two years ago, I was in my hometown, an adjoining suburb of a bustling city. I owned a bookstore, started up with my late husband’s life insurance payout, specializing in hard to find books, mostly those that were out of print. We had a loyal clientele that would make the short journey from the city and the surrounding areas on a regular basis to see what new offerings I had. I visited estate sales and yard sales often, looking for those treasures that some people didn’t realize they had. It helped that I had a retired bookbinder and repair specialist, my dad, at my disposal. He would lovingly restore some of the more worn first editions I found, using techniques gleaned from years of experience, teaching them to me so that I could turn the bookstore into more than just a place to buy books.

One day, a woman came in, browsing through the bookstore, looking at not just the books, but the entire space itself. When I asked if she needed help, she just smiled and gracefully declined. She did buy a book, casually asking who the owner of the shop was. Then she gave me a card that said Maria Hill, Location Scout.

“I work with a production company that is going to be filming in the area in a few months. We had a bookstore lined up for filming but they had a fire and now we need a new location. Your shop was recommended by a friend of a friend of a friend. Would you be interested?”

I didn’t know what to say. This shop was my living and from what I knew about filming on location, the production company could take weeks or even months to film scenes. That kind of interruption could be fatal to my business. She sensed my hesitation and smiled.

“We would pay you to use your place and could even use you as an extra if you want to pick up some money.”

“I don’t know.” I looked at my store. “I’m quite protective of my store and my stock. Giving up control to a film production would be difficult for me.”

She looked back at how I had things set up. “What if we replaced the books with remaindered ones for the filming, and put yours into storage?” I shook my head, still not convinced. “Why don’t I get the director to come and see you? He’s in the city with the casting director looking for local actors to fill some of the supporting roles.”

I wasn’t sure if that would alleviate my concerns but I was willing to listen to his pitch. Giving her one of my cards, I put my cell phone number on the back, then rang through her purchase, wondering if she bought it to grease the wheels. When I got home I called my dad and told him about the encounter. We talked for some time about the pros and cons of agreeing to it but I was still leaning to not doing it.

The following morning I opened up and spent a couple of hours unpacking and inspecting some boxes of books I picked up at an estate sale. Just as I finished one of them, the door opened, ringing the little bell I had on it so I would hear it if I was in back. I glanced up to say good morning to the customer, and my mouth went completely dry. The man who entered was dressed casually, and wore a ball cap to hide his hair but I recognized him right away as Bucky Barnes, an actor who had become famous working in several well received independent films. Why was he in my store? Croaking out my welcome, he smiled back at me, and stepped further inside, stopping at several shelves to look at the books, even holding on to one, then another.

Trying not to stare at him, I decided to do some dusting, bringing out the duster, dust cloth, and the tall step stool. I pulled out the top shelf of books on the one display running the duster over the shelf, then wiped the books with the dust cloth. As I got into it, finishing that column of books and starting on the next one, I totally forgot about Bucky Barnes, the customer. It wasn’t until I heard a polite cough behind me that I remembered he was there and turned. My foot slipped off the top of the stool and I fell towards him. Almost instantly, he stepped forward and expertly caught me, just like in the movies.

The first thing I noticed was that he smelled incredible. I don’t even know what the scents were as my dad wore Old Spice and my deceased husband never wore anything scented. He was also strong, much stronger than I was expecting. I’m not a waif and with the momentum I had as I fell I was sure we would both end up on the floor but he was solid and caught me easily. His beautiful blue eyes were now looking at me with concern.

“Are you alright?” The way his voice rumbled was somewhere between intoxicatingly masculine and “get in my bed” sinful. I gulped while he looked over at the stool. “You took quite a tumble there.”

“Fine,” I rasped, then cleared my throat. “I’m fine. Thank you. You can let me down now.”

Then he smiled and seeing those perfect white teeth finished me. I got all hot and flustered, totally aware that my cheeks must be flaming red as they were burning right at that moment. He lowered me so gently that I didn’t realize my feet were now on the floor.

“I’m Bucky Barnes,” he said, then gestured towards the fixtures. “My associate Maria Hill was here yesterday and thought it could work for my film and I have to agree. It’s a much nicer store than the one we were going to use. What do you say about letting me film here?”

“You’re the director that the location scout said would contact me?”

He nodded his head as I asked, then smiled again, holding up the four books he picked.

“I’d like to buy these. They’ve been on my “to read” list for a while but my book store contact could never find them.”

Now I was really hooked. Bucky Barnes, the actor, who was in the area, for pre-production on a movie he was directing, was in my store, buying books. Not only that, he had just caught me as I literally fell onto him. It must have been too much because the next thing I knew I was looking up at his worried face, while I was on the floor. My first instinct was to get up but he put a gentle hand on my shoulder, keeping me down.

“Stay there,” he commanded. “You must have had some vertigo or a low blood sugar moment. I caught you before you dropped.” That damn smile came out again. “Maybe you’re falling for me.”

I groaned at his awful joke but he didn’t take it personally. Eventually, he did let me stand, and allowed me to ring his purchase up, then he stood there, all 6 foot 2 inches and 185 pounds of movie heartthrob (I looked it up later), and asked me out to dinner the next night, to discuss using the bookstore for his movie.

“Oh, I can’t,” I said. “Thursday nights I’m open late.”

“Well, surely, one of your employees can take over,” he suggested.

I shook my head. “I’m it. This is a one person business and I do good business on Thursday nights. Tonight would be better or Friday.”

He glanced at my left hand, seeing my ring. “Won’t your husband object?”

“I’m a widow.” There was a flicker of emotion on his face but he quickly masked it.

“My condolences. Unfortunately, I have a pre-production meeting today that will last well into the late evening. I’m leaving for LA on Friday as I have filming on another movie to do so it will have to be tomorrow.”

“Busy man.”

“It’s how I make my living.” He leaned across the counter, fixing those blue eyes on me. “How do you eat meals or take a break when you’re here on your own?”

At first I was hesitant to answer. I mean, I’m a single woman talking to a strange (albeit famous) man about being here on my own. But those damn eyes were definitely a window into his soul because I saw genuine curiosity and concern in them.

“I sit in the back room with the door open so I can see the front door. It has a bell on it, to alert me to a new customer, and I put my sandwich down to come out and help them. When I have to use the facilities, I lock the door and put up a sign saying I’ll be back in 5 minutes. My customers understand and wait for me.”

“Huh, makes sense.” He frowned a little then seemed to come to a decision. “How about I bring you something to eat and hang out with you in the store? The movie is going to be set primarily in a book store and although the script has been written and I’ve had some preliminary rehearsals with the leading lady and several others, I think I could benefit from your expertise in running an independent small business on your own. I’ll pay you for your time ….” He stopped as if realizing that how he worded it could be misinterpreted and blushed. It was refreshing to see him being flustered. “I should say I will pay you for sharing your knowledge and experience as a bookseller, and give you a movie credit as a technical consultant.”

“I haven’t agreed to you using the book store, yet,” I answered, wondering if my loudly beating heart was audible to him as it was pounding in my ears.

“That’s true, but I’ll give you the credit no matter what. Please say yes.”

I remember how that word please did something to me, something I hadn’t felt for several years.

“Alright, bring sandwiches as they don’t get cold when I get busy. I’m open to just about anything but there’s a sandwich place a couple of blocks away that I always buy from, since I support local businesses. I have tea here so if you drink coffee you’ll have to bring your own. When you get here, the food stays in back.”

“6 o’clock is okay?” I nodded and he picked up his bag with the four books he bought. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He opened the door, looked up and grinned at the ringing bell, then tipped the brim of his ball cap and left. I remember thinking what an old fashioned thing that was. Men didn’t tip their hats to women anymore. It was a sign of respect, maybe even admiration. What was so special about me that a man like him could admire? It bothered me for the rest of the day until I got home and called my dad to let him know of this latest wrinkle. I tried to downplay my reactions to Bucky Barnes but my dad was always a perceptive man, even when we spoke on the phone.

“He tipped his hat to you? You don’t get that every day, do you?”

“Does it mean anything?” I asked, then waited as he took his time answering.

“Do you want it to mean anything?” I thought about it, then Dad said something that resonated with me. “It’s been four years since Dan died. He was taken far too young for both of you. I know that you’ve dated but haven’t felt any connections past a second date.”

“This isn’t a date, Dad,” I interrupted.

“I know, it’s a business meeting where he’s bringing you sandwiches, and eating them in your back room, picking your brain, then watching how you run your business. He sounds interested and invested in making you comfortable with him taking over your livelihood for the duration of filming. If he does talk money, make sure he pays you what you would expect to make in sales, plus a gratuity for the upheaval to your business.”

“You think I should do it,” I declared.

“I think you should consider it and then decide yourself. At the least, you can always say you had dinner with Bucky Barnes.”

That was Dad, pragmatic to the core. When Bucky showed up early at 5:50 he brought sandwiches from the local shop, a large coffee for himself, and earned major bonus points for bringing a slice of cake each from the bakery around the corner. I had already cleared my desk and brought plates and cutlery. After all, I was civilized. He noticed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled, showing those perfect white teeth again. As we sat and took our first bites, finishing chewing so we weren’t talking with our mouths full (see previous reference to being civilized), he looked intently at me.

“What would you like to know?”

“What’s the movie about?”

“It’s kind of my take on Notting Hill but without the paparazzi, the cheating boyfriend and the irritating roommate,” he answered. “I play an actor, in town to film a movie, and I find this little bookstore with a charming manager who I develop a crush on. On days when I’m not filming I’m at the store, enjoying the atmosphere, finding that it gives me what the movie business doesn’t, a calm place where I’m accepted at face value. We have a love affair, then the filming ends.”

“That’s it?” I asked, after sipping some tea from my insulated cup. “No happy ending?”

“Oh, there’s an ending but not even the other actors know what it is yet as I have sworn the writers to secrecy.”

I was going to respond to that but the bell rung on the door and I stepped out to find a pair of regular customers entering. Bucky watched from the doorway as I pulled out three books that had been placed on hold. They visually inspected the books then asked what the damage was. I gave them a price, which they agreed to and I rang them up, chatting as they brought out their own cloth bag to put them into. Slipping in a few bookmarks which I picked up from book trade fairs I wished them a good evening and watched them leave. Just as I got back to the room, the bell rang again and I made an apologetic face at Bucky as I tended to the next customers, chatting with them as they were regulars. More came in and although I got quite busy I noticed he was browsing the shelves, pretending to be another customer. No one seemed to notice who he was so it was a convincing improvised performance. After a steady hour or so of customers it began to taper off and I was able to slip back to have a few more bites of my sandwich.

“You weren’t kidding,” he said. “You get a lot of repeat business?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “That’s why I’m reluctant to close down. Many of them make the trip from the city or nearby towns. If I’m not open, I’m not sure they’ll come back.” I sipped my tea. “You could pay me well for the time I shut my store down but if I lose my base of regular customers I might not have enough business to keep it open afterwards. This is my living and I’m invested in keeping it.”

He listened carefully, then was quiet for some time while he thought before seeming to come to a decision.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize the hit you could take if you turned the store over to us. This fire that hit the other bookstore has really forced my hand.” He rested his chin on his clenched fist. “I would build a new set but it would increase my budget. I wanted a place that looked authentic and used, you know what I mean?”

I nodded, understanding completely.

“You could always duplicate my bookstore in an existing empty retail space,” I suggested. “There are a few places here or in the city that would probably jump at the chance to have you there even on a temporary basis. You would need shelving, counters, and stock. If you built from scratch using used fixtures and buying remaindered books then it would have that funky independent bookstore look. You would also control the space, using it whenever you wanted and setting up your equipment without having to worry about upsetting the owner. At the end of filming you could sell off the inventory as official souvenirs of the movie. You know, buy a piece of cinematic history.”

I smiled hopefully at him with that rather unlikely last suggestion and he reacted with definite amusement but also with respect. Another customer came in and I left him to his thoughts and the rest of his sandwich. When I returned he had our cake slices ready to eat. He stood up, pulled my chair out for me, and waited for me to sit down until he did. Then he fixed his gaze on me.

“I think you’re right about building a purpose built set in an empty retail space. If there is any way you could work with our set designer to replicate what you have here before filming starts I would really appreciate it. She’s a local and you could arrange times that work for you. I don’t want to risk your business being permanently disturbed by our filming. The success of my little vanity project isn’t worth affecting your livelihood.”

It was a surprising admission from him, but it was made sincerely. He stayed until closing time and helped me shut the store down, waiting as I locked the doors. We lingered outside on the sidewalk, not saying much of anything but definitely feeling a pull towards each other.

“Thank you for letting me come over and observing you at work,” he said. “It was quite illuminating and I think I’ll work with the script writers to incorporate some new dialogue into the film based on what I witnessed.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied. “Thank you for dinner. The cake was a nice touch.”

That smile came out again, and I spontaneously kissed him on the cheek. We shook hands then we both kind of pulled the other in for an impulsive and more intense kiss, one that made me feel all sorts of things.

“You’re quite the woman,” he murmured, his arms feeling quite natural around me. “Can I call you sometime, just to talk?”

“Sure,” I stammered, then shrugged. “When you’re not busy with premieres and dating starlets and stuff.”

“Oh sweetheart, that’s all posing for the cameras, just part of the job. I’m much happier curled up in my favourite chair, a book in my hand, my dog asleep near me, and some nice music playing in the background. I go to the premieres and parties because I have to maintain a presence but I would much rather spend hours talking to you than being there. You’re real and I’ve had a better time with you in the last few hours than I’ve had in a long while.”

“I bet you say that to all the bookstore owners.”

With a soft smile, he shook his head, then kissed me again, leaving no doubt in my mind that there was definitely something worth exploring. After getting me safely in my car, and double checking my cell phone number he let me go and despite his words I didn’t expect to hear from him until he returned for filming. The next day a large bouquet of flowers was delivered to the store, along with the contact information for his set designer, and a cheque for my input that was more than generous. Bucky phoned that night and we talked for three hours. He phoned every night except Thursday as I was working, then he began video calling, introducing me to his dog, Tilly, a mutt who obviously adored him.

I did meet with the set designer and together we found a large empty retail space in the city, in a small strip mall that was struggling to stay afloat. Bucky gave her the okay to rent more space there to use as their production offices. Two weeks before filming started he showed up at my bookstore on a Thursday night with sandwiches, and dessert. It felt like he had always been doing it and we picked up our relationship where we left it, except this time, he followed me home in his car and stayed the night.

When filming started I saw less of him but we still talked and he made the effort to see me at least once a week. He met my father, finding common ground with him in their shared love of books. We did have a little bump in the road when I visited the set on a Sunday they were filming. It was the first time I was there and they were preparing a romantic scene between Bucky and his leading lady, Natasha Romanov, a very attractive actress. Wanda, a production assistant was waiting for me just outside the house they were using as Natasha’s place, leading me inside. The living room was set up with soft lights, candles and partially full wine glasses. Bucky and Natasha were talking with a third person, the intimacy coordinator, according to Wanda, going over the ground rules for their romantic scene. There was some joking between Bucky and Natasha then she got in position while a stand-in stood with her while the positioning was checked on a monitor by Bucky and his assistant director, Sam Wilson. Then he nodded at Sam and took his place where the stand-in had been. The clapper board, or slate, as they call it on set was brought in front of the camera to mark the beginning of the scene, then Bucky said “roll camera,” the camera operator started it, said “rolling” and Sam took a few seconds to call out “action.”

I felt weird watching my boyfriend kissing another woman in a way that was disturbingly familiar. Then the camera moved back as they moved to the couch and he laid on top of her, kissing and touching her with what seemed to be intent. When Sam called “cut,” Bucky got off of her like it was no big deal and came over to the video monitor, watching it intently, then pointing out issues in lighting or positioning. As a makeup artist touched up Natasha’s hair and makeup, they adjusted the camera angle and some lighting then they went through the scene again with the intimacy coordinator. I felt a touch on my arm and turned to see Wanda looking at me with concern.

“Do you want to wait in the other room?” she asked. “They’ll be calling lunch after they get the scene in the can.”

I nodded and she led me through an adjoining door to a den, bringing me a bottle of water, as I sat on a couch in there.

“They are just acting,” she said kindly. “It looks real but it isn’t.”

Even though she was trying to be supportive, I still felt odd about what I saw and just nodded. She left me there and I sipped the water, waiting. It was almost an hour before lunch was called, but all I could think about was that they must have gone through that scene several times. When Bucky came in, he kneeled down in front of me.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes searching my face. “Wanda said you seemed upset.”

“No … yes,” I answered, struggling to keep my face neutral. “Are love scenes always like that?”

He frowned slightly. “Realistic? Yes. But it doesn’t mean there is anything between us. We’re both professionals and we separate our personal emotions from what we’re doing so that it looks like we’re into each other but we’re not. It’s all technical.”

“It looked real.”

“Hey,” he said softly, cradling my face in his hands. “This is real.”

He kissed me then, languidly caressing my tongue with his, as he gently threaded one hand into my hair while the other pulled me closer to him. When he pulled his lips away he continued holding me, rubbing my back.

“Have you ever fallen in love with an actress after doing romantic scenes?” I asked, still feeling insecure.

“When I was 18 and still a virgin,” he answered. I looked at him in disbelief. “Really. I had no romantic experience and I fell in love with my leading lady in the high school play. After our first rehearsal kiss I was sure she was the one, then when rehearsal was over, she went out to her boyfriend and gave him a kiss that must have reached to the back of his throat. It was gross.” It made me giggle, which made him smile. “I do love scenes because I’m a formally trained professional actor and it’s expected when I’m the lead in a production. I’ve done nude scenes with a man and a woman, separately, but I don’t get aroused by it because it’s really quite uncomfortable to be in front of a film crew with another naked person, pretending to be in love or lust, and having the whole scene broken down into “put your leg here, and your arm there, don’t fart, don’t burp and for God’s sake if you get a leg cramp don’t scream.”

“Okay,” I said, a little grudgingly. “I guess it’s something I have to get used to but would it be okay with you if I didn’t watch those scenes until the movie comes out?”

“Sure.” He kissed me again. “You know I love you, right?”

“What?” I gasped.

“I love you. You’re it for me.”

Before I could respond then Sam interrupted us, saying a closer look at the last scene filmed showed a shadow from the sound boom. Smiling apologetically at me, Bucky got up, then pulled me up with him to give me a hug.

“Wait for me,” he said. “We’ll talk some more.”

I stayed, found a book and read it. When they wrapped for the day, the activity level got considerably louder as people prepared to leave. I looked out into the hallway, seeing people going back and forth as some equipment was too valuable to leave in the house, even though a security guard would be on duty. Stepping into the living room, I watched as Bucky talked to Natasha, telling her she did good work that day, then hugging her. He had a quick conversation with a couple of people then saw I was there and told them he had to go.

“Ready to leave?” he asked. “Come to the trailer with me while I change then we’ll go.”

He took my hand and led me to a large trailer, like the type used in a work camp. All the actors had their own rooms with their wardrobes in it for that set. When we got inside his room, he closed and locked the door then pressed me against it, kissing me enthusiastically. When he finally had enough and allowed me to catch a breath, I looked at him.

“What’s got into you?”

“You. You’re in my head, and in my heart. I’ve wanted to say it for a while.”

“What stopped you?”

He caged me in between his hands that were placed on either side of my shoulders.

“Trying to find the right romantic moment.” He scanned my face as if he was mapping it. “I know that scene was hard for you to see but you really don’t have to feel like you don’t matter. I liked you the moment you fell off that stool into my arms and then fainted. I was impressed watching you work, handling your customers with such patience and professionalism. As we talked on the phone, then by video call, I realized that those times were the best part of my day. The film industry is all about make believe but there’s nothing more real than how you make me feel.” I smirked at his rhyme and he chuckled with me. “I adore you, and want to be where you are as much as I can.”

“How will we make that work?”

“I can move here.”

That stunned me. He was willing to move here instead of staying in Los Angeles? I could only respond with one word.

“Why?”

“Because this is your home and it’s where your business is. It’s important to you. After all this I don’t want to take you away from it.”

“But that will make you less visible and ….”

He kissed me again, softly, almost reverently. “When a guy finds the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with, nothing is as important as her. This film, my first as a director, was important to me because I was ready for a new challenge, one that didn’t depend on me being that guy you see in the gossip rags or the entertainment programs. We can still keep a place in Los Angeles and New York for when I have to be there but I want to put down roots here, with you.”

“But would that mean you would marry me?”

“Not how I wanted to ask you but yeah. I want to marry you, have a family, bring Tilly up so she can get to know your dad, and you keep your business because it’s part of you, a part I love.” He looked hopefully at me. “Of course, it only works if you love me, too, and say yes to marrying me.”

“Yeah, I love you.” I started to cry, as he looked at me like I was something precious. “I want to marry you.”

“Guess what?” he asked, after he kissed me again, even though I was blubbering. “I just figured out the end of my movie.”

“I thought you already had an ending.” I wiped my cheeks with my hands.

“I did but after I met you I didn’t think any guy worth anything would leave someone like you behind. So, I asked the writers to come up with a happy ending and now I’ll get them to tweak it, just a little. It might be based on us, a bit. Are you okay with that?”

I nodded, as I knew that if I spoke I would start to cry again. While I sat on the couch, he wiped off his makeup with facial wipes, as he usually showered at the hotel or at my place, then changed into his regular clothes. Then he drove us in his rental car to my dad’s house, and told him I said yes, because of course he spoke to my dad first. We celebrated with steaks and beer. Six months ago, we got married in a private ceremony with his family and mine at a mountain resort. Tilly brought the rings down the aisle on a ribbon tied around her neck. Bucky had another film lined up a month later and worked on getting a distribution deal for the movie which brings us to why I was sitting on a tall stool in a hotel room getting my hair and makeup done.

It was the world premiere of Bucky’s film, Nothing More Real. Yeah, he used part of a line that he said to me for the title but I didn’t mind. As he explained to an interviewer the movie became more personal to him once he met me.

After my makeup was completed and hair styled into something other than my usual comb it out and fasten it with a barrette, a stylist brought out the three choices of evening gowns we made earlier in the day. Bucky’s stylist, Michael, had recommended her, knowing I was still dealing with the glitz and glamour of being in Los Angeles. All three dresses were casually elegant, nothing too extravagant or risqué. I chose a black off the shoulder style that I felt beautiful in. After making sure that all the seams were straight and my smoothing undergarment wasn’t bunching up anywhere, Lesley nodded her approval and helped me slip on the heels, low ones as I absolutely refused to wear the five inch ones that seemed to be the norm. She handed me my clutch then gestured to the adjoining door.

“I brought jewelry,” I said, reaching for my little case with some necklaces and earrings.

“Nope, Bucky got you something,” she answered. “Let’s go show off for him.”

I came through the adjoining door and he turned around, his face alight at the sight of me. He shook his head but it was because he couldn’t get over how I looked.

“Stay right there,” he said, reaching into his pants pocket for his cell phone. “I want a picture of how you look at this moment to send to your dad.”

Leaning against the closet door he aimed the camera at me, staring at the image for some time until he pressed the shutter button. I’ll always remember how he looked in his navy slacks and a white shirt while staring at his camera then at me. Looking beyond at Lesley he smiled and thanked her for finding the perfect dress. She just smiled and closed the door.

“Where’s your tie?” I asked, stepping closer.

“Not wearing one. Going for that casual elegant look.” Sliding his phone into his front pocket he placed his hands on my waist, gazing at me. “You look stunning and will make me look good just being beside you.”

“I bet you say that to all the bookstore owners.”

He laughed then hugged me, his mouth close enough to my ear that I could feel his breath on it.

“No, just the one I love. Now, I have something for you. Kind of a six month anniversary, world premiere gift.”

“Aw gee, and I didn’t get you anything.”

He went to the night stand beside the bed and pulled out two cases, one small square one and a longer slim one.

“Normally, the big jewellers provide pieces for the red carpet but I want the world to see that I appreciate my wife so much that I want her to have something unique with meaning to her.”

He opened the long case to show a white gold and diamond pendant shaped like a book. Explaining that it was custom made he fastened it around my neck. Then he opened the small case showcasing a pair of white gold diamond drop earrings. After I fastened them, he took another picture then received a text that our ride was waiting. Putting his jacket on he took my hand in his.

It wasn’t a long drive, but I could tell he was nervous. Although he had investors for the movie, he had put his own money into it and his reputation. For someone who wanted to transition into being a director it was a gamble. The red carpet was intimidating for me, but Bucky held my hand, and made sure that no one treated me with anything less than respect. There was one instance where I waited at the side while he was on camera with one of the entertainment programs, and was asked who inspired him. He smiled and said the usual, then he stepped away from the reporter, looking for me. When he saw me, his face broke into a soft and knowing smile.

“There, right there, is the person who inspires me the most,” he said, gesturing for me to come forward. His publicist frowned as she wanted the focus to be on him but she stepped back and let me go to him. Putting his arm around me and giving me a side hug he faced the reporter again. “This is my wife and she is the happy ending I always wanted. I cherish the day that the location scout walked into her bookstore and asked if we could film there. She said no, but I kept going back because there was something special about her, something real that I had been needing.”

It was an “aww” moment that was replayed for days. The reviews were great, calling Nothing More Real a gem of a movie, that realistically portrayed a romance between two people who needed something more in their lives. It didn’t get nominated for any major awards but it was always on a “best of” list of romance movies and gave Bucky a strong push into becoming sought as a director. It also increased my business as people came to find the bookstore behind the movie. Even though the movie was filmed in a set, built in an empty retail store in a strip mall they knew the real thing was even better. So was life and love with my movie star husband, who loved me as I was, because I was real.

One Shots Masterlist

[drippingghoneyy]

Unforgettable - Viktor x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a night out with your friends at a bar in the Undercity, Viktor walks you back to your room. Everything is calm until Viktor notices a small tattoo on your hip…

**continuation of “ My Oh My”

Genre/ Pairing: m/f, Viktor x fem!Reader, (Written in Viktor’s POV)

WARNINGS: MDNI! NSFW, smut, pwp, Implied Curvy Reader, Tattoo, alcohol consumption, biology, tension, teasing, grinding, jealousy, possessive!Viktor, dom!Viktor, sub! fem!Reader, dom/sub dynamics, brat, piv, fingering, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, big dick Viktor, pet names, begging, scratching, friends-to-lovers, voice kink, obedience kink, nipple play, bondage (mentioned), degradation, claiming, "whore”, “slut”, “sir” .. (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: looong. 9.7k.

Notes: *I needed more filler and thought the tattoo idea was cute. It also connects things in a little bit. *I feel like curvy fem biology assistant x Viktor will be a common theme in some of my work. They will not be connected... *I tried to continue from Viktor's POV, and I don't quite like the ending. *This is the 3rd smut I've ever written so be kind. Where can I improve? what did you like? what did you not? Reblog and like!! I read all of them, they make my whole day!

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

You grabbed my hand before pulling me along with your group of friends as you started to leave the bar, hidden away in the Undercity.

The trip back to the academy seemed to pass in a blur, the cobblestone streets of the undercity a stark contrast to the gleaming spires of our academic sanctuary. The warmth of your hand in mine was a lifeline, a connection to the reality of the world outside this bar, and I held onto it tightly, my thoughts spiraling out of control.

As we approached the grand archway that marked the entrance to the academy, you leaned into me, the alcohol in your system making your movements a little sloppier than usual. "V," you shouted over the noise of the city, "walk me back to my room?"

The request was simple, but the implications were vast. At that moment, I knew that the lines of our friendship were about to be redrawn. I nodded, my heart racing, and as the group split off, Jayce and your best friend exchanged knowing smiles, the kind that said they'd been waiting for this moment for a long time…. 

As we walked through the dimly lit hallways of the academy, the echo of our footsteps seemed to amplify the silence between us. The scent of your perfume mingled with the faint odor of the undercity, a heady combination that made me want to devour you whole. I allowed myself to look over you, really look at you, for the first time that night.

The tight skirt and revealing top you had chosen for the night out highlighted your curves in a way that was both tantalizing and infuriating. The way your hips swayed with every step was a silent invitation that I was desperate to accept. The undercity had brought out a side of you that I had never seen before, a side that was as alluring as it was dangerous.

We reached your door, the hallway dimly lit by flickering candles. You fumbled with the lock, your hands unsteady from the drinks. "Let me," I murmured, taking the key from your trembling hand. The lock clicked open, and the door swung wide, revealing the sanctity of your private space.

As I stepped inside, the reality of what had transpired in the Undercity bar began to sink in. I couldn't help but question if the fiery, flirtatious woman who had danced so seductively for me was the same person I knew as the sweet, shy assistant. The walls of the academy felt like they were closing in around us, a stark contrast to the openness of the undercity streets.

The room was a reflection of your academic life, filled with books and notes, a stark contrast to the seductive figure you had presented earlier. The scent of ink and paper filled the air, a comforting embrace that only served to amplify the tension between us. You turned to me, your eyes searching mine, a hint of vulnerability peeking through the mask of confidence you had worn all night.

Was it all just an act? A part of you that you had allowed to surface for a brief moment before retreating back into your shell? Or had the under city truly changed you, unearthing a side that craved attention, that desired to be seen and claimed?

You stepped closer, the warmth of your body radiating through the fabric of our clothes. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I could see the under city in yours, a wild, untamed place where the rules were different. The shy, reserved assistant I knew had been replaced by a woman who was unapologetic in her desire. But was this the real you, or a facade you wore for the night?

"I had a great time tonight," you said, your voice a soft purr that made my skin tingle. "I'm so happy you came."

"Are you?" I asked, my voice low and gruff. "Or are you just happy to have your knight in shining armor come to rescue you?"

You smirked, a hint of challenge in your eyes. "Maybe a little bit of both," you admitted, your hand sliding up my chest. "But mostly I'm just happy to see you."

The air grew thick with anticipation as I searched your eyes, and the realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. You had seen me watching you, had felt my gaze on you all night long. The smirk playing on your lips grew wider as your hand slid up my chest, your thumb brushing against the neckline of my shirt. The heat from your touch sent shockwaves through my body, making my breath hitch in my throat.

"Viktor," you whispered, your eyes sparkling with mischief, "you didn't come to pick us up with Jayce, did you?"

I swallowed hard, unable to find the words to lie to you. The truth was written all over my face, a blend of desire and possessiveness that I had been unable to hide.

"I... I was worried about you," I finally managed to say, my voice a rough admission of the emotions I had been trying to keep at bay all evening.

Your smirk grew wider, and you stepped closer, your breasts brushing against my chest. "Worried, or jealous?"

The question hung in the air between us, a silent dare that sent a shiver down my spine. I knew what you were doing, the way you were testing me, pushing my boundaries. You had seen the hunger in my gaze, the way I had devoured you with my eyes as you danced, and now you wanted me to admit it. You wanted me to confess that I hadn't just been watching over you for your safety, but because I couldn't take my eyes off the woman you had become in the Undercity's embrace.

Your eyes searched mine, looking for the truth that was written plainly on my face. You knew me too well, knew that my desire for you was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for years, a secret that I had kept locked away. But as the night had worn on, as I had watched you flirt and laugh and sing, the lock had begun to rust, the key turning in the tumbler.

You stepped closer still, your hand now resting on my chest, your thumb tracing lazy circles on my skin. "I know you were watching me," you whispered, your breath hot against my ear. "I could feel your eyes on me all night."

Something within me snapped, the last thread of restraint giving way. I pulled you into me, my hands gripping your hips with a fierce possessiveness that I hadn't felt in years.

"You were such a slut," I murmured into your ear, the words coming out harsher than I intended. "Every move, every laugh, every glance."

Your eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing your features, but it was quickly replaced by a smoldering desire that mirrored my own.

"Was I?" you whispered back, your voice a challenge.

With a growl, I crushed my mouth to yours, the kiss rough and demanding. Your body melted into mine, your arms wrapping around my neck as we devoured each other. The taste of the undercity still lingered on your lips, a tantalizing blend of sweetness and danger. I knew then that I couldn't fight it anymore. I wanted you, all of you, the shy professor and the wild creature of the night.

Your hand found its way to my cane, wrapping around the cool metal as if it were an extension of my body. You used it to pull me closer, the strength in your grip surprising. The cane clattered to the floor, forgotten as our kiss deepened, your nails digging into my skin. I didn't need it to stand anymore; your embrace was all the support I needed.

Our tongues fought a passionate battle, tasting and exploring each other with a fervor that was long overdue. The sweetness of your mouth, mixed with the faint tang of alcohol and the bitter taste of the coffee we'd shared earlier, was an intoxicating cocktail that had me reeling and hungry for more. Your moan was music to my ears, a symphony of desire that had been bottled up for far too long.

My hands found their way to your ass, the soft flesh beneath my fingertips sending shockwaves through my body. I had dreamed of this moment for years, imagining the way you'd feel in my arms, and reality was so much better than my wildest fantasies. You arched into my touch, your body begging for more as we continued.

With every squeeze, you moaned a little louder, the sound of your pleasure music to my ears. The fabric of your skirt was thin, offering little resistance as I explored your curves with an insatiable hunger.

Each rub of my palm against your skin pulled more noises from you, and the feeling of your ass in my hands was intoxicating. The confidence you had displayed in the bar was now melting away, leaving behind a need that was raw and undeniable.

I broke the kiss, leaving us both panting messes. Eyes dark with desire, raked over me, drinking in the sight of my flushed cheeks and swollen lips. A smirk played on your face as you leaned in to whisper, "Did you enjoy the show?" The jealousy from earlier still lingered like a dark cloud, but it had transformed into something else entirely—possession.

"You put on quite the performance," I replied, my voice a low rumble of approval. "But remember, you're mine." My words were a declaration, a stark contrast to the gentle academic who had taught you so much. In this moment, I was of the undercity, the man who had claimed you long ago.

Your eyes widened a fraction, a spark of surprise followed by a smoldering heat. "Is that so?" You challenged, your voice a breathy whisper. The way you leaned into me, pressing your body closer, told me that you didn't just enjoy the show, you reveled in the power it gave you. But I wasn't about to let you think you had the upper hand for long.

"You know it," I said, my voice a low, commanding growl that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the room. "Every move, every smile, every sway of your hips was for me." I slapped your ass, the sound echoing through the room like a declaration of war. The cheek flushed a deeper red under the sting, and you gasped, your eyes lighting up with a mix of shock and arousal.

I took a step back, allowing you to process the sensation, watching as you bit your bottom lip, your eyes never leaving mine. Your breaths grew shallow, your chest rising and falling with the effort of keeping your emotions in check. I could see the wheels turning in your mind, the desire to submit to me, to let go of the control you had clung to so tightly all evening.

As the sting began to fade, I reached out, my hand gentle as it traced the outline of the red handprint on your skin. You trembled under my touch, your eyes never leaving mine as I took in the sight of your body's reaction to my claim. It was a heady feeling, one that made me feel alive in a way I hadn't felt in years. The scent of your desire filled the air, a potent aphrodisiac that had me aching to possess you fully.

Your breaths grew shallower, your chest rising and falling in a tantalizing rhythm that matched the beat of the music still pulsing through my veins. The way your eyes searched mine was a silent question, one that I was more than eager to answer. I leaned in, my lips brushing against your ear as I whispered, "You're mine, and I'll never let anyone else touch you like that."

The words seemed to unleash something within you, and you pushed into my touch, your hips rolling against my hand. I watched with a hunger that was barely contained, the way your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned. Your reaction was everything I had hoped for and more, your body begging for the release that only I could give you.

"Viktor," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I want... I need..."

Your confidence was slipping away, and in its place was a vulnerability that was almost painful in its beauty. I stepped closer, my other hand coming up to cradle your cheek, my thumb brushing away a stray strand of hair. "What do you need, little one?" I asked, my voice gentle despite the raging desire within me.

You looked up at me, your eyes wide with a mix of want and fear, but couldn't quite look up at him. "I... I want you to fuck me," you managed to get out, your voice shaking with need. The words were a declaration, a surrender to the passion that had been simmering between us for so long.

Her grip on my hand tightened as I took a step closer. "Are you sure?" I murmured, voice a gentle rumble. "I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"I'm sure," you said, the conviction in your voice leaving no room for doubt. "I want you, Viktor."

The walls of the academy seemed to close in around us, the air thick with the tension of unspoken desires. I felt a thrill run through me at the thought of claiming you here, now, but I knew better than to let that happen. Instead, I leaned in, my lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was demanding. You melted into me, your body fitting against mine as if we had been made for this exact moment.

Breaking away from your mouth, I whispered, "Take me to your room." The command was soft, but the urgency in my tone left no room for argument.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed with excitement, handing me my cane before leading the way through your room. The sound of your high heels clicking against the stone floor was like a seductive promise of what was to come.

As you opened the door, the warm glow of candlelight spilled into the hallway, revealing a sanctuary of knowledge. Books and stacks of paper piled high, creating a labyrinth of wisdom that was quintessentially you.

Yet amidst the chaos, your bed stood out like an oasis, large and soft, the pristine soft green sheets a stark contrast to the dark wooded frame. It was a beacon of comfort in a sea of scholarly ambition, and it was here that my darkest desires took root.

For a brief moment, the image of you, bound to that very headboard with silken cords, flashed through my mind. Your wrists and ankles tied to the four posts, your body stretched out and offered to me like a sacrifice to some ancient deity of lust. But tonight was not the night for such games. Tonight was about claiming what was mine, about showing you the depth of my hunger and the intensity of my need.

The room smelled faintly of coffee and vanilla, a scent that was as comforting as it was arousing. As you led me through the maze of your academic sanctuary, the sight of your bed brought forth a deluge of impure thoughts. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the room, a bastion of comfort in the chaos of your intellectual world. The dark wooded frame of the bed was a silent sentinel, watching over us as we approached.

My gaze lingered on the bed, the images of you bound and at my mercy playing in my mind. We stepped closer to the bed, and you turned to face me, your eyes searching my face for a hint of the desires that I had kept hidden for so long. I knew that you saw the hunger in my gaze, the raw need that had been building since the moment I had laid eyes on you in that undercity bar.

You reached up to my face, your hand shaky with anticipation. "Viktor," you whispered, your voice a soft caress against my skin. "I trust you."

With those three words, you had given me the world. I knew that this was a pivotal moment, one that would change the course of our relationship forever. The academy had been our sanctuary, a place where we had built a foundation of friendship and respect. But tonight, in the dim candlelight of your room, the undercity had followed us, bringing with it a passion that neither of us could ignore.

Gently, I pushed you backward, my hands guiding you until the backs of your legs hit the bed. You sat down, and I knelt before you, taking your hands in mine. The fabric of your skirt was still rucked up a bit around your hips, revealing the lacy dark red underwear. Only a peek but, I assume that they left little to the imagination. I kissed the inside of your wrists, feeling the pulse of your excitement against my lips.

"You think it'll be this easy to get me on my knees again?" I chuckled darkly, my eyes never leaving yours. "You're going to have to work much harder than that, my dear."

The laugh that bubbled out of me was a mix of nerves and excitement. You blushed, looking away for a moment before meeting my gaze with a playful smirk. "Is that so?" you challenged, lifting your chin in defiance.

My hands slid up your legs, my thumbs tracing the sensitive skin just beneath the edge of your underwear. "You see, the thing is, my sweet," I murmured, my eyes locked onto yours, "you're used to being in control here, aren't you?" Your cheeks flushed at the accusation, but the spark in your gaze told me that you didn't disagree.

You nodded, meant only as a tease, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "But tonight," I continued, "tonight, the roles are reversed." With a quick tug, I pulled your skirt up over your hips, revealing the dark red lace panties that matched your bra. "And if you think I'll let you sit in judgment of me again, you're mistaken."

My eyes fell to the spot where your thigh met your hip, and I saw it—a small, delicate tattoo that read "unforgettable." It was almost as if it were a brand, a mark of ownership that sent a jolt of possessiveness through me.

I couldn't resist the urge to run my thumb over the inked skin, feeling the indentation of the letters. The sight of it, so unexpected yet fitting, was like a siren's call to the depths of my desire.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as I touched the tattoo. "Viktor," you breathed, your voice a tremble of pleasure. "What are you doing?"

"Claiming what's mine," I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them. The tension in the room grew palpable as I traced the word with the pad of my thumb, the smoothness of your skin contrasting with the roughness of the ink. The sight of it, so intimate and personal, was like a declaration of war on my self-control.

"Is that what you think this is?" you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and seduction. "Claiming?"

I met your gaze, my eyes dark with desire. "You know it is." My hand slid up your thigh, my thumb continuing to caress the tattoo as I leaned in, my breath hot against your skin. "You're mine, and I want everyone to know it."

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you considered my words. "Everyone?" The challenge in your voice was unmistakable, and the smoldering heat between us grew.

"Everyone," I reaffirmed, my thumb still lingering over your "unforgettable" tattoo. The word was like a brand on your skin, a declaration that no one would ever forget who you belonged to. "Everyone who dares to look at you, to think they know you, will see that you're mine."

You took a sharp breath in, the implications of my words sinking in. I could see the conflict playing out on your face, the struggle between your academic persona and the woman who craved to be claimed. But as my thumb swiped over the ink again, the decision was made. You leaned back, your body arching slightly, giving me better access to the treasure hidden beneath the fabric.

"Viktor," you whispered, a hint of amusement in your voice, "you really are dense sometimes." Your laugh was like a cool breeze on a hot summer's day, sending a shiver down my spine as your eyes searched mine for understanding. "That tattoo...it's not about someone else claiming me."

I felt a rush of relief and something else, something deeper that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I leaned in closer, my hand still resting on your hip, my thumb pressing into the word "unforgettable" once more, slightly harder than before.

As I did, a soft whine of desire slipped from your lips.

Suddenly, I was transported back to one of those late nights in the lab, the kind that felt like forever ago. Your hair had been pulled back into a messy bun, strands of it sticking to your forehead as you squinted into a microscope. It had been a rough week for you, the kind where the pile of assignments and projects had grown to a mountainous height, and the endless stream of faculty meetings had left you drained. But there you were, in your element, the soft hum of the machines lulling us both into a rhythm of focused work.

The lab had been our sanctuary, a place where we could be ourselves without the prying eyes of Piltover society. The room was bathed in the soft blue light of the monitors and the occasional beep of the heart rate monitors. The scent of antiseptic and the faint odor of formaldehyde were the only interruptions in the otherwise quiet space.

It was in this serene environment that the sound of shattering glass pierced through the air, jolting me out of my thoughts. I whipped my head around, the cane clutched in my hand as I searched for the source of the disturbance. My eyes fell upon you, standing still as a statue, your eyes squeezed shut in what could only be an attempt to process the chaos you had just wrought. In your hand, a delicate shard of what had once been a beaker, the remnants of some experiment you'd been working on.

As I took a step towards you, the pieces of glass crunched beneath my feet. My eyes locked onto the trail of tears that streaked down your cheeks, glinting in the candlelight like diamonds. "You're crying?" I asked, the words barely a whisper.

Panic flooded my chest as I saw the tears on your face, your eyes screwed shut tightly as if trying to hold back the deluge of emotions threatening to spill over. My legs propelled me forward, the cane forgotten as I reached for you, the need to comfort and protect you overriding everything else. "You're crying?" I managed to get out, the words a jumble of concern and disbelief.

My heart hammered in my chest as I took the shard of what had remained of your beaker out of your hand, carefully to ensure there was no broken glass, tossing it aside. "What happened?" I asked, my voice thick with concern. "Are you okay?"

You took a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath your shirt. "I'm fine," you said, your voice too calm, too collected for the storm of emotions I could see playing out on your face. But the tremor in your voice gave you away. "It was just an accident."

"No, you're not," I said firmly, pulling you into my arms. Your body was stiff against mine, a stark contrast to the softness of your skin. "What's wrong?"

For a moment, you remained silent, your breath hitching in your throat as if you were fighting back a sob. Then, like a dam breaking, the floodgates opened, and the words spilled out in a torrent of despair. "I can't do this, Viktor," you whispered against my chest, the warmth of your breath seeping through my shirt. "I'm not good enough. All of my work, all of the late nights, the experiments, the research—it's all for nothing."

I held you tighter, my heart breaking at the sound of your anguish. "What do you mean?" I prodded gently, my voice a soft caress against your hair.

"Everything," you said, the word coming out as a choked sob. "I can't keep up with the research, the expectations... I'm not... I'm not as good as they think I am." Your voice broke, the dam of your composure shattering into a thousand pieces at my feet.

I pulled you away from me slightly, holding your waist and looking into your tear-stained eyes. "You are amazing," I said with all the conviction I had. "The work you've done, the knowledge you hold, it's mesmerizing." I couldn't believe the words I was speaking, the raw emotion that was spilling out of me. It was like I had been holding in a tsunami, and now the levee had broken. My thumb pressed into your hip gently, the gesture a silent reassurance amidst the storm of doubt swirling in the room.

Pulling you away from me slightly, I held onto your waist, keeping you close while still giving you space to breathe. "This is just a moment of weakness," I reassured you, my eyes never leaving yours. "And that's okay. We all have them."

I wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of my thumb. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what," I promised. "Whenever you need me, I'll be here."

The air was charged with unspoken words and the electricity of our shared moment. You looked up at me, your eyes glistening with unshed tears and hope. "Viktor," you whispered, the sound of my name on your lips sending a bolt of desire through me, "I've worked so hard, and sometimes it feels like it's all for nothing."

"Never," I said fiercely, my hand tightening on your hip. "Your work, your dedication, it's not just noticed—it's etched into the very fabric of this world. The mark you've left on science, on the minds of those who dare to dream of a better tomorrow, it's permanent."

My thumb pressed into your skin, resonating with each beat of your pulse beneath it, a soft whine falls from your lips,. "You're not just a professor, not just a researcher," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "Your work is etched into the very fabric of this world, and it will never be forgotten. You are unforgettable."

The memory of the undercity bar, the sound of your laughter, the way your hips had swayed in that dress, it all came rushing back. You had been mine all along, and now, in this moment of vulnerability, the truth was laid bare. The word "mine" echoed through my mind, a feral growl of possession that I hadn't felt since the days when the undercity was all I knew.

As the haze of the past cleared, my grip on your waist tightened, my thumb pressing harder into your skin as the reality of your words hit me like a blow. You were in pain, feeling lost and unseen, and all I wanted was to be the one to show you how wrong you were. You were so much more than you thought, so much more than the sum of your fears and doubts.

The control that I had held onto so tightly began to slip away as the word "mine" reverberated through my mind like the tolling of a bell. I had tried to keep my desires buried beneath layers of academic decorum, but in the face of your vulnerability, I was undone. My thumb pressed into your skin, the word "unforgettable" now a brand of ownership in my mind, as the possessiveness I had felt in the bar grew.

You leaned into my touch that I hadn't cared to realize I tightened, your breath catching as you looked down at me, your eyes filled with a mix of amusement and something darker, something that mirrored the hunger in my gaze. "You do remember," you said with a laugh, the sound of it like a siren's song.

I looked up at you, my pupils blown wide with desire. The control I had so carefully cultivated around you, the walls I had built to keep my feelings at bay, were crumbling like ancient ruins before an unstoppable force. The room spun around us, the only anchor the beat of your pulse under my thumb.

"Of course I do," I murmured, my voice thick with need. "How could I forget, what's mine?" I leaned in, my dark smile growing as I licked a slow, deliberate path along the edge of your underwear, tracing the line of your hip where the ink met your skin. The taste of you, the scent of you, it was intoxicating.

With a gentle bite to the sensitive flesh of your hip, I whispered, "You're mine." The words were a declaration, a promise, and a threat all rolled into one, and as you shivered in response, I knew you felt the gravity of them. Your pupils dilated with desire, the same emotion that was raging through me like a tempest.

"Say it," I demanded, my voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the very air around us. "Tell me you're mine."

You looked at me, the playfulness in your eyes replaced by a smoldering heat. "Viktor," you breathed, your voice a caress that sent a shiver down my spine. "I am yours."

It was like a dam had burst within me. The control I had fought so hard to maintain shattered into a million pieces, leaving in its wake a primal need to claim you, to make you scream my name as you climaxed. My hand slid up to the waistband of your underwear, and with a swift tug, I exposed your nakedness to my eager gaze.

"Viktor," you gasped as I leaned in, my mouth closing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, your legs spread wide before me. The taste of you was intoxicating, the sweetness of your arousal a siren's call that I couldn't resist. My tongue traced the path my thumb had taken moments before, each touch sending a jolt of pleasure through your body that had you writhing against me.

As I kissed my way up to the apex of your thighs, you whispered my name, your voice a mix of desperation and need. "V," you pleaded, your breath hot against my ear, "make me yours."

The words were like a key unlocking the floodgates of my restraint. I could feel the urges I had kept caged for so long breaking free, the need to claim you, to show you who you truly belonged to, coursing through my veins like liquid fire.

My finger trailed over the slick wetness between your legs, the sound of your gasp echoing through the room like the sweetest symphony. "Look at you," I murmured, a smirk playing on my lips as I took in the sight of your arousal. "So eager, so needy. You really are a whore for me, aren't you?"

The word "whore" hung in the air like a challenge, a dirty, beautiful word that sent a shiver of excitement through your body. You squirmed under my gaze, your cheeks flushing a delicious shade of red. 

But instead of protest, a low, needy moan slipped from your lips as I teased you, my finger grazing over the slick folds of your sex through your panties, the ones you wore just for me.

The sound was like music to my ears, a sweet symphony of desire that only served to fuel my own. Your hips bucked involuntarily, trying to chase my touch, and I couldn't help but laugh darkly at your eagerness.

"Look how wet you are for me," I murmured, the smugness in my voice unmistakable as I felt the heat of your arousal seep through the fabric of your panties. My finger drew a lazy circle around the spot that made your breath hitch, the fabric growing damper by the second. "It's like you're begging for it."

Your eyes widened, a mix of shock and pleasure as I chuckled darkly. "V…," you protested weakly, though the arch of your back and the way your legs fell open wider spoke volumes.

"Don't bother," I said, a wicked smile playing on my lips as I pulled your underwear to the side. "You can't hide from me." My finger continued its dance, now sliding over your slick skin, teasing your clit with feather-light touches that had you gasping and squirming beneath me. "You're so eager, so desperate for my touch."

Your eyes snapped to mine, a challenge in their depths. "Is that what you think?" you whispered, your voice a challenge. But the way your hips rocked into my hand told me the truth, and the smell of your arousal was like a drug, making my head spin and my cock throb.

"You're so wet, so ready," I taunted, my voice dropping to a growl as I watched you react to my every touch. "Tell me how much you want me."

Your eyes fluttered shut, your voice a breathy moan as my finger found the spot that made your toes curl. The sound of your need filled the room, a symphony of desire that had my cock straining against my pants. You were so wet for me, and the smug satisfaction that filled me was like a drug.

"Please," you begged, your voice a whimper that sent a shiver down my spine. But I wasn't done teasing you, not yet. I leaned in closer, my breath hot against your skin as I whispered, "What do you want, my little whore?"

You arched your back, pushing yourself closer to my touch. "You," you moaned, the word a desperate plea that had my pulse racing. "I want you."

With a chuckle, I slipped my finger inside you, feeling the warmth of your desire clench around me. You gasped, your eyes flying open to meet mine, filled with a mix of shock and pleasure. "

"See?" I murmured, my voice a dark purr of satisfaction. "You're begging for it, aren't you?"

Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as you tried to push down the embarrassment. Whining in protest, your voice a breathless whisper that sent shivers down my spine. But your body betrayed you, arching into my touch, silently begging for more.

"So wet," I repeated, my thumb now circling your clit in a steady rhythm as my finger pumped in and out of you. "So desperate." Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, and I could feel the tension building in your body. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?"

Your eyes snapped to mine, a mix of anger and desire in their depths. "Viktor," you warned, your voice a whip crack in the quiet room.

"No," I said, my voice firm as I continued my relentless assault on your clit. "that isn't how you address me, you know that love,"

Your eyes widened, the challenge in them flickering before being replaced by a mix of lust and submission. "Sir," you corrected, your voice a breathy whine that had me smirking in victory.

"Much better," I said, my voice a dark promise as I added another finger, stretching you around me. You were so tight, so warm, and the way you clenched around me was like a fist to my heart. I could feel the tension coiling tighter.

Your breath was coming in short, sharp gasps now, your eyes locked onto mine as I picked up the pace, my thumb circling your clit in a relentless rhythm. "Sir...," you moaned, the sound like a sweet symphony of need that had me fighting to keep from losing control. But I had to claim you, all of you, in this moment.

With a final, hard press of my thumb, I watched as your orgasm crashed over you, your body tightening around my fingers as you screamed my name. The sound of your pleasure was like a battle cry, echoing through the room and sending shockwaves of desire through my body. But before you could fully come down from your high, I pulled my hand away, licking the sweetness of your arousal from my fingers with a smug smirk.

The taste of you was intoxicating, a heady mix of salt and sweetness that made me crave more. It was like a drug, a delicacy that I hadn't had the pleasure of indulging in before. My eyes never left yours as I savored the flavor, watching the way your pupils dilated with every slow lick.

"I apologize for not taking my time," I said, the words a dark promise as I leaned over you. "But I need you, sweetness."

You nodded, eyes glazed with pleasure, your swollen lips parted in a silent plea for more. The sight of you, sprawled out on the bed, had me aching with a need that was almost painful. My hands moved to my waist, unbuckling my pants with a swiftness that was almost violent. The sound of the leather protesting, like a gunshot in the quiet room, echoing through the air like a declaration of war.

I stepped out of my pants, my cock springing free, thick and hard with desire for you. The fabric of my boxers strained against my erection, a testament to the depth of my need for you. You watched with hooded eyes, your chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, your own arousal evident in the way your breasts heaved.

With a predatory grace, I moved over you, my knees pushing your legs wider apart. You didn't protest, didn't say a word, just nodded, your eyes glassy with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The sight of your swollen lips and the soft gasp that escaped when you caught a glimpse of my cock straining against my boxers sent a bolt of pure desire through me. I knew what you needed, what we both needed, and I was more than ready to give it to you. Oh but look at you, I thought, what's another few minutes..

Pulling myself to you, my mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was all fire and heat, the taste of your arousal still lingering on my tongue. Our tongues fighting together, which seemed to go on forever, our breaths mingling as I explored every inch of your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating against my lips and sending a shiver down my spine.

As we broke apart, I took a moment to appreciate the sight before me. Your bra was a thing of beauty, a delicate scrap of fabric held together at the front, that had barely contained the perfection that was your breasts. With a flick of my wrist, I undid the clasp, and the garment fell away, revealing you to me in all your glory.

Your breasts spilled out, hardening under my gaze. I took one in my mouth, suckling gently as you gasped, your hands threading into my hair. The taste of your arousal still lingered on my lips mixing with the sweetness of your skin, causing me to groan against you.

You were so responsive, your body arching into my touch, your nails digging into my scalp as I kissed and licked my way down your neck, my teeth grazing against your collarbone.

Your breath hitched as my hands slid down to the waistband of my boxers, and with a swift tug, they were gone. My cock sprang free, hot and heavy with the need for you. I positioned myself between your legs, my knees pressing into the bed, and with one hand, I guided the tip of my cock to your slick entrance.

The anticipation was palpable, the air thick with the scent of our desire. With every shallow thrust, you could feel the head of my cock teasing your entrance, the velvety heat of you begging for more. I watched as your eyes rolled back in your head, a soft mewl escaping your lips with every pass, the sound like a symphony to my ears.

My hand found your neck, gently squeezing as I whispered, "Look at me." Your gaze snapped to mine, the hunger in your eyes matching my own. "You're mine," I said, the words a declaration that sent a shiver down your spine.

As I pushed into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You were so tight, so hot, like nothing I had ever felt before. It was like coming home, like finding the missing piece of myself that I had been searching for all my life. Your walls stretched around me, welcoming me in with a sweet embrace that was more than I could've ever hoped for.

The stretch, the feeling of you around me, consuming me in a way that nothing ever could. Your eyes widened, a silent gasp escaping as I filled you completely, and I watched as the pleasure painted your features, a masterpiece that was solely mine to behold.

Your nails dug into my back, leaving white-hot trails of pain that only served to heighten the pleasure. The sound of your wetness was like a siren's call, a sweet symphony of desire that had me fighting to keep my pace slow, to savor every second of this moment.

"Please...," you breathed, the sound of your voice like a sweet caress against my skin. But I wasn't done speaking, not yet.

"You're so tight," I murmured, my voice thick with lust as I felt every inch of you squeeze around me. "So perfect."

With a smirk, I began to move, my hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you arching up to meet me, your nails digging into the flesh of my back. "Is this what you want, sweetness?" I taunted, my voice low and gruff. "Me, claiming you, making you scream my name?"

Your response was a whimper, your eyes glazed with a mix of pleasure and desperation. "Yes," you whispered, the word barely audible. "More."

I chuckled, the sound dark and possessive as I leaned down, my mouth brushing against your ear. "You want more?" I whispered, the words a promise and a threat all in one. "Beg for it."

Your breath hitched, your body trembling beneath me. "Please," you whimpered, the word a needy plea that had me smiling against your skin. "More, sir."

The way you said "sir", whining so desperately for me, was like a knife to my restraint, the last thread snapping under the weight of your need. My hips began to move faster, my cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, filthy sound that had us both gasping.

"You're mine," I said, the words a declaration that seemed to echo through the room. "Mine to take, mine to use."

Your moans grew louder as I picked up the pace, my cock driving into you with a fervor that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room. "That's it," I murmured, my voice a dark purr in your ear, "Take it all, my sweet little whore."

The sound of my voice, thick with desire and command, seemed to resonate through your body, causing your walls to tighten around me. My grip on your neck tightened only slightly, a silent demand for your absolute surrender, and you gave it to me without hesitation, your eyes rolling back in your head as I filled you completely.

My hips snapped against yours, the force of my thrusts pushing you into the mattress, the sound of our bodies colliding a symphony of passion that seemed to echo through the room. "Look at you," I murmured, my voice low and smug, "Begging for me to fuck you harder."

Your breath hitched, and you whimpered my name, the sound like a sweet curse on your lips. My other hand slid up to cup your breast, my thumb flicking over the hardened peak as I watched you come apart under me.

"You like that, don't you slut?" I whispered, my voice a dark promise as I pushed deeper. "You like it when I talk dirty to you, when I tell you what a good little whore you are." Your eyes snapped to mine, the challenge in them fading into pure, unbridled lust.

With each word, I could feel you tightening around me, your pussy gripping my cock like a vice, as if you were trying to milk every drop of pleasure out of me. "Yes," you breathed, your voice a tremulous whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.

My grip on your neck tightened more, the thrill of power coursing through me as I watched the way your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. "You're so beautiful," I rasped, my voice low and gruff, the sound of my own need echoing in the room. "So fucking beautiful when you come apart for me."

I leaned back, taking in the sight of my cock disappearing into you, the way your pussy clung to me, begging for more. "You're so wet," I said, my voice a dark whisper that seemed to resonate through the room. "So fucking wet, like a river around me."

My hips slammed into you, the sound of our bodies meeting a sweet symphony that seemed to block out everything else. "Look at you," I growled, "taking it all, like the good little slut you are." Your cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink at the words, your eyes snapping to mine with a mix of anger and arousal that only spurred me on.

Your walls tightened around me, a silent plea for release, and I knew you were close. "Come for me," I demanded, my voice a dark command that seemed to vibrate through your body. "Come on my cock, show me how much you need this."

With a final, brutal thrust, I felt your body shatter around me, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Your nails dug into my back, leaving deep, red marks that I knew would bruise and ache for days. The sound of your pleasure was like a siren's call, a sweet symphony of desperation that had me groaning your name.

Your pussy spasmed around me, the sensation like nothing I had ever felt before. "Fuck," I whispered, the word torn from my chest as I felt the beginnings of my own release. "You're so tight, so fucking tight."

As your orgasm began to fade, I slowed my pace, my cock still buried deep within you. I leaned down, my mouth hovering just above yours, my breath hot against your lips. "Again," I murmured, the word a dark promise. "I want to feel you come on my cock again."

Your eyes searched mine, a silent question that had me smiling in victory. "Do it," I said, my voice a gentle command, "make yourself come for me, sweetness."

Your pussy tightens around my length, as you begin to grind into me, setting the rhythm of our hips. The sound of your wetness filled the room, a sweet symphony that had my blood pumping faster. I watched as your hand slipped between us as you touched yourself, the way your eyes fluttered closed and your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red.

Your fingers danced over your clit, the little nub swollen and begging for attention, and I couldn't help but lean down to kiss you again. The taste of you was addictive, a drug that I never wanted to live without. Your breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as you worked yourself closer to the edge, your hand moving faster, your hips rising to meet me.

The sight of you, so lost in pleasure, so beautifully shameless was like nothing I had ever seen before. The way your breasts bounced with each movement, the way your stomach tightened and your back arched, it was a masterpiece that I could've watched for hours. But I had to be a part of this, had to feel the sweet release that was building within you.

My hand found yours, my fingers entwining with yours as we worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. I felt your pussy spasm around me, the tight grip of your orgasm almost painful, and it was like nothing I had ever felt before. You were so close, so close to coming again, and the power of it was intoxicating.

With every stroke of your hand, I pushed into you harder, my cock swelling with the promise of release. "Come for me," I rasped, my voice a dark demand that seemed to echo through the room. "I want to feel you come apart around me."

Your breath grew ragged, your eyes squeezed shut as you chased your climax. "I'm close," you whimpered, your voice a sweet symphony of need that had me groaning. "please, sir...."

The feeling of your pussy clenching around me, the way your body was trembling with the force of your need was like a drug, a high that I never wanted to come down from. "Come," I whispered again, my voice a dark command that seemed to resonate through your very soul.

And then it was there, the sweet release that had been building for what felt like an eternity. With a scream that seemed to shake the room, you came apart in my arms, your pussy spasming around my cock in a delicious symphony of pleasure. Your nails dug into my shoulders, your legs tightening around my waist as you rode out the waves of your climax.

My own orgasm washed over me, a tsunami of pleasure that seemed to rip through every inch of my being. I could feel my cock pulsing within you, my hot release filling you, marking you as mine. The sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before, a heady mix of power and ecstasy that had me groaning your name against the softness of your neck.

We remained like that for a moment, our bodies trembling in the aftermath, our hearts pounding in a frantic rhythm that seemed to match the beat of a drum. The sweat-slicked between us, a testament to the passion that had just unfolded between us. Our breaths were ragged, mingling in the air as we both tried to come down from the high.

Slowly, I pulled out, the feeling of you clinging to me, the warmth of your pussy like a glove around my softening cock was almost painful. But it was a pain that I reveled in, a sweet agony that reminded me of the power I held over you. Your legs fell open, your pussy glistening with the proof of your desire, and I couldn't help but admire the sight.

You collapsed against me, your body a boneless mess in my arms. The warmth of your skin against mine was like a brand, searing the memory of this moment into my very soul. Your breath was warm and fast against my chest, your heart hammering like a rabbit's, and I knew that you were feeling the same mix of emotions that were coursing through me.

I wrapped my arms around you, holding you close as the aftershocks of our passion continued to ripple through us. Your head lolled against my shoulder, your eyes closed, and for a brief moment, the world outside this room ceased to exist. It was just you and me, our bodies tangled together in a mess of limbs, our breaths mingling in the humid air.

As your breathing slowly evened out, my cock softened, slipping from your warm embrace, leaving a trail of cum between us. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air, a heady perfume that seemed to cling to our skin, a reminder of the intimate dance we had just shared. I could feel the stickiness of it on my stomach, a sweet reminder of your surrender to me.

Your chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm, the soft puffs of air against my neck sending shivers down my spine. Your body was a delicate, sweat-slicked canvas, a masterpiece of passion that I had been privileged to paint. Each tremble, each gasp was a testament to the power I held over you, a power that seemed to grow with every touch, every shared moment of pleasure.

Our skin was a patchwork of dampness, the sweat that had beaded along your spine now mingling with mine. The feel of your bare breasts pressed against my chest was intoxicating, the softness of your flesh a stark contrast to the firmness of my own body.

With a gentle smile, I kissed you once more, a soft press of my lips to yours, the taste of your passion still lingering. "Thank you," I whispered, the words a benediction, a declaration of victory and surrender all rolled into one. "For letting me have you like this."

You blinked up at me, your eyes still hazed with the afterglow of pleasure. "Thank you," you murmured, the words a soft echo of my own, a gentle acknowledgment of the power I held over you. "For...for making me feel so...happy...."

I chuckled, the sound low and deep in my chest, a rumble that seemed to resonate through the room. "Always, sweetness," I murmured, kissing you once more.

But the moment was short-lived, the reality of our situation crashing back into the room like a tidal wave. The academy, our responsibilities, the fact that we had just crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. I knew that we couldn't stay here, tangled in the sheets, forever.

With a sigh, I pulled away from you, my body already mourning the loss of your warmth. I stood, the cold air of the room hitting my sweat-soaked skin like a slap, and began to dress, my movements efficient and swift. "We can't do this again," I said, the words a heavy weight in my chest.

You sat up, your eyes wide and confused, your cheeks still flushed with the remnants of passion. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice small and vulnerable.

Turning to face you, I took in the sight of you, naked and beautiful, the evidence of our love-making still glistening on your thighs. "I mean," I began, my voice gruff, "that this can't happen again."

You stared at me, the hurt in your eyes like a knife to my soul. "What, why?" you whispered, the question a plea that I had no answer for.

"Because it's not right," I said, my voice firm despite the tremble in my chest. "We're mentor and student, you're Heimerdinger's protege, and I'm...I'm just a professor."

The words hung in the air like a noose, tightening around my neck with each syllable. I knew that what we had just done was wrong, that it could ruin everything we had worked so hard for. But as I watched the tears begin to spill down your cheeks, I also knew that I didn't want to lose you.

"I can't," I continued, my voice softer now, "I can't risk losing you."

You wiped at your eyes, a sad smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "You won't," you said, the conviction in your voice unshakable. "I'll always be here, i’m yours…."

But as I watched you, the love in your eyes, the trust in your voice, I knew that it was a promise I couldn't keep. "You don't understand," I said, my voice breaking. "This isn't just about us, it's about our futures, about what's right and what's wrong."

You nodded, the understanding in your eyes making my heart ache. "I know," you said, your voice a mere whisper. "But sometimes, Viktor, you have to take a chance, I did..."

I stared at you, the weight of your words like a boulder on my chest. You took the chance... 

Could we really risk it all for this? The line we had crossed was thick and indelible, a stark reminder of the boundaries we had shattered. But as your eyes searched mine, filled with fierce determination, I knew that the choice had already been made for us. We were in this together, for better or worse.

"We'll figure it out," I murmured, the words barely leaving my lips as I reached out to brush away the tears that clung to your lashes. The love in your eyes was a siren's call, a promise that I couldn't resist. I knew that I couldn't walk away from this, not now, not after feeling you shatter around me, not after feeling your love in every inch of my being.

"But," I added, my voice firm despite the tumult of emotions that raged within me, "we have to be careful." We had to find a way to navigate the treacherous waters of our newfound relationship without capsizing the ships of our careers and reputations. "We can't let anyone know, not yet."

You nodded, the understanding in your gaze a balm to my frayed nerves. We would keep our secret, our love a hidden treasure that we would share only in the shadows, a guilty pleasure that we could never reveal to the world above.

As we dressed, the air thick with the scent of sex and the unspoken promise of future encounters, I knew that we had set ourselves on a path that was fraught with danger and temptation. But as I watched you pull on your shirt, the fabric clinging to your damp skin, I knew it was a path I was willing to walk...

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[softxsuki]

Hello! If requests are still open I would like to submit one for the valentines day event? I would like a confession letter from baji (he's liked me for a LONG while but bc I have low self esteem/been in a bunch of failed friendships and relationship (some of wbuch he had a part if bc he didnt wanna see me with another man), I only saw him as a friend and didn't really allow myself to have feeling for him (like im a really optimistic/extroverted person but I'm also rlly scared of getting close to people as my most recent friendship breakup resorted in me getting fucking insomnia that took weeks to recover from). Tone: hurt/angst to comfort/fluff where after I try to go out on a date (and fail), he finds me crying onnthr curb, ion wanna see his fsce (bc we got into an argument) and then he tries tos ee what's wrong but I'm hiding my feelings, we get into an argument and I run off (it's super dramatic too). Other info: we've been tight since middle school (i saw him as a big bro/cool guy figure. Looked up to him) ans latches onto him even as I gained and lost friends gjnffjdnmd

Sorry if its too confusing or complex dndndn

Have a lovely day!

Confession Letter from Baji

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Baji x Gn!Reader| Genre: Comfort, Fluff | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 500 |

Warnings: mild language, jealousy, crying

Note: You painted a whole scene for me, so thank you. Hope you like !

You were at home sulking over the events of the day; a failed date once again due to your inability to fully trust a guy again, to Baji finding you crying on the curb, the argument that ensued after, and you running away from your own feelings, taking yourself back home.

You felt so pathetic, why couldn’t things work out for you? Why did you have to have these feelings for your friend despite how much you tried to push them away? There was no denying them anymore.

A knock at your door, forces you off your feet, opening the door to find no one there, but instead, a letter on the ground with your name on it.

Strange…

You wipe away your tears and bring the letter in with you, opening it;

Y/N,

Before you crumple this up and throw it away, please wait…I’m sorry okay? I was just…upset. I realize I’ve been holding my feelings back for so long that my instinct is to scold you for going out on dates…it’s probably jealousy honestly.

We’ve been close since middle school and I’ve seen all the crap you’ve been through with fake friends and failed relationships…which I’ve probably scared a few potential love interests of yours away myself…but I can’t help it. I like you. What man stands around and lets other guys talk to the person they like? Despite how lame I’ve been to keep it to myself instead of just telling you…

But after tonight, I can’t hold it back anymore. I like you, Y/N. I have for a while and I hate to see you hurting…I know I could treat you well. Our friendship is proof of that, but I want to be more than just your friend. I want to hold you when you’re hurting and kiss your tears away. I want to reassure you and build you up after all the times you’ve been knocked down by losers who don’t know how to treat their lovers…

I’m tired of running from my feelings, I just hope I haven’t pushed you away by telling you this. 

Come find me, please.

Love, 

Keisuke.

You can’t help but smile at the letter, the guy could hardly spell (let’s pretend like there were many spelling and grammar mistakes in the letter…the editor in me couldn’t actually do it BFHKEAF), let alone put words together on paper, but he tried for you, and it was beautiful. 

Maybe these feelings you had for him weren’t so bad after all. Maybe this could be your first good experience with a relationship. Baji always treated you well, despite the times he’d get moody after you’d mention dates you had gone on, but now you knew why–he liked you back.

You laugh to yourself, wiping the remainder of your dried tears. Time to find happiness with your best friend. The thought filled you with hope, making you excited for the idea of dating him. 

Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

Posted: 2/14/2025

[kyndahot]

CONTINUING THIS! this.. is so much longer than I intended it to be LMFAOOO *throws this at you like bird seed*. ALSO something about us - daft punk is their song. I do make the rules now. Seer Obscura's text is in purple for clarity's sake-- I'm not confident enough in my writing or grammatical ability to trust their dialogue is legible otherwise LOL I could get away with it more confidently in shorter posts seer obscura can cook morgan has a cat & a green thumb

So Morgan offered them his bedroom to sleep in while he was away but he isn’t very confident that they actually take him up on the offer from their very hesitant “I’ll decide later.”

He didn’t push it past that— if they were uncomfortable with it then his couch could make a decent pull out and he had some extra bedding in the hallway closet to make it a better place to sleep.

It’s really late into the night when he arrives back home, Seer Obscura texted him earlier in the day that they’d be heading out after they fix up the apartment.

“I can take care of it myself, friend. Just take care of Sage’s food and water bowls and head out.”

“Morgan, it’s fine. I wouldn’t feel comfortable if I didn’t leave it sparkling.”

He lets out a tired, breathy laugh. “Fine, if it helps you sleep at night.”

“You know it will.” ⸙⸙⸙ Unfortunately, he receives news at the airport that his flight would be delayed by a number of hours. He calls Seer Obscura to let them know. "Feel free to just head on out anyway. I'll probably hole up in the closest hotel when I land and get home tomorrow. Sage is good about eating only when she's hungry so just give her a tiny bit more food than usual and she'll be fine until I arrive." "No problem, get home safe, Morgan. And let me know when you land, alright?" "Of course, have a good rest of your day." ⸙⸙⸙

Its deathly quiet when Morgan enters the apartment. With a sigh, he just drops his bags unceremoniously at the door, peeling off his blazer and tossing it on the couch as he passes by. He opted out of the hotel room, he was plenty homesick as it was and he'd survive a few hours of missed sleep if he could see his cat and cozy apartment again. Dragging his feet lazily down the hallway, he stops to graze his hands across the leaves of his split leaf monstera. It warms his heart to see that all of his plants seem to be as lively as ever in his absence--he wasn't ever worried that they would decline under Seer Obscura's care. if he didn't give them better instructions he was sure they would throw themselves head first into research on plant care. A yawn escapes him as he shuffles down the hallway, wayyy too tired to bother getting ready for bed— he had every intention of just belly flopping into bed in his work clothes. That is, until he opens the door and makes out a human shaped mass under his covers. Sage, his ever so doted on russian blue, immediately gets up from her curled up position by Seer Obscura's frame and stretches before hopping off the bed and running her silver-furred body against his calves. Morgan wasn't very careful about how loudly he swung the door open so it doesn't take long before Seer Obscura stirs, lazily dragging their upper-half to sit up. "Morgan? I thought you would be arriving tomorrow?" It takes him a second to come to his senses before responding. "I didn't think you'd still be here." Rubbing their eyes, they let out a small hum. "Well, I did finish cleaning up relatively early but I decided to--" they pause for a beat before continuing. "Hm... you'll see it in the morning, I'm sure. Point is, I was going to stay behind to keep watch until early tomorrow morning." Without thinking, he finds himself moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "Keeping secrets from me? That's more cryptic than I'm used to you being--nowadays, anyway." He can barely make out the small tired laugh Seer Obscura lets out, "Yeah, well, it's taking a lot of effort to not spoil the surprise. Oh, let me move to the couch--" Morgan places a light hand on their shoulder to stop them, "Hey, hey, you're good where you are. I'll take the couch tonight." "Morgan, it's your bed. It got plenty of use from me while you were away." He feels himself grin at the thought. "Really? I'm glad to hear it-- but still. You're fine where you are." Seer Obscura grumbles before scooting to the other side of the bed and slapping the side now unoccupied. "Then we're sharing the bed." Morgan coughs on his own spit at their suggestion. There is no hesitance in their voice, just unwavering nonchalance at the idea. "I-Im sorry?" "If I'm to stay here then you're staying with me. We're adults, I can trust you to behave if we share a bed. And well, I doubt you take me for the type to get handsy." The man laughs, "Uhh, I guess? If you don't mind at all? Do you want me to like... sleep with my head on the other end of the bed? Or we can put a pillow between us--" Groaning, Seer Obscura flops back down and turns their back to him. "You're ridiculous. Sleep how you like, Morgan, but decide quickly before I sleep on the floor to spite you."

"Ouch! Fine, okay. Goodnight, friend." "Goodnight, Morgan." ⸙⸙⸙ The two go to sleep knowing that someone occupies the space next to them, so there isn't much tossing or turning from either of them. Still, its a comfortable rest. Seer Obscura is the first to wake, eyes fluttering open to find they've turned to face Morgan at some point in the night. His expression is soft, the light weaving its way through the thin curtains bathe his skin in a soft glow. They're glad to see him rest so soundly after what sounded like exceedingly boring back-to-back meetings. They look down to see Sage had saddled herself in between the two of them, leaning against Morgan's side with a content light purr. Smiling softly, the seer moves to pet the cat until they notice the weight stopping them from doing so. Morgan's hand was resting atop their own. ⸙⸙⸙ When Morgan awakes, Seer Obscura is already gone, but they leave behind a text advising him to check his fridge. The grin that spreads across his flushed cheeks is unwavering for the rest of the day when he sees the inside of his fridge is filled with containers full of different foods, his favorite foods, meal-prepped for the day-- even more lining the inside of his freezer, enough to last him a couple weeks. For the remainder of the week, he enjoys that his apartment smells of them. Both of their cooking and of their person.

Seer Obscura plant/cat sits for Morgan while he’s out of town for a week and freaks the fuck out bc they don’t have the slightest idea of how to take care of plants. They just volunteered because Morgan has pretty eyes and a pretty smile with cute dimples and he mentions that he needs to find a sitter and before they know it they’re standing in his apartment with his keys in their hands.

The note he leaves behind is pretty vague and when he’s guiding them through his apartment, Seer Obscura reaches for his hand to stop him in his tracks, waving the note in their hands.

“What is a little bit of water to you? A little bit of water? Like… a cup? Half a cup? How many seconds do you count down when you’re pouring water out of a watering can? Or do you use a hose? Don’t laugh, I’m being serious, Morgan.”

Morgan gave them more concrete measurements (mostly for their sake, how much a certain plant needs of something he’s long been using muscle memory for) and they take it so seriously they’re actually pulling out measuring cups & spoons for it. Whenever he gets a text during a meeting he has to take a deep breath and keep his expression as stoic as possible because the way they talk in person vs the tone of their texts is so juxtaposed—he can’t imagine their voice in his head being this frantic and he so badly wants to laugh.

[quynhorlose]

nah nah i don’t think y’all Understand i don’t think you Get it i don’t think it’s Clear okay wolfstar fucking RAISED me, man, i don’t even think i was exposed to what being gay WAS before i stumbled across a stupid cringey tumblr post about these two dead wizards when i say they were a gateway ship i mean they were THE gateway ship okay i can’t even verbalize how much they mean to me and have always meant to me because every single time i think i’ve moved on from them i come right back they’re like my fucking true north do y’all have any idea how frustrating it is to never be able to escape these bitches it’s been YEARS i can’t go on like this

[tonycries]

A Million Dollar Baby! - N.K.

Synopsis. Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, landlord! Nanami (kinda), oraI (male + fem), cúmplay, reader’s a tease, unprotected, creampíe, down bad FERAL Nanami, spítting, bréeding, messing up his glasses, pantý-stealing, he’s sweet but fúcks so MEAN, mentions of Higuruma, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.8k (wild)

A/N. Decided it was high time I feed my Nanami girlies hehe.

“Just get the money and go.” Nanami deadpans, like a mantra. Giving a rapt knock on your apartment door, “I swear m’making him buy me lunch for this.”

Now, it wasn’t that Nanami was exactly upset about taking over Higuruma’s landlord duties for the day - no, in fact, he was the first one at his friend’s door with a bag of prescription medicine for the other man’s fever and the suggestion to take the day off.

But it was the thought of finally coming face-to-face with you - that mysterious new tenant that’d just moved into his building. The one that had Nanami wondering whether you were really as “sugary sweet n’ irresistible” as Higuruma raved you were. 

Though, he can’t imagine you’d be particularly happy about being woken up at 10am on a Sunday for overdue rent - he certainly wasn’t.

Seriously, he had no idea how Higuruma managed to do this every-

Click!

“Higu- you’re not Higuruma.”

Oh, and suddenly, Nanami gets it.

If he got to see this view, too, then he might just become the landlord himself.

It’s as if you knew you’d be playing with his sanity as soon as you opened that door, dressed in a fitted t-shirt that did absolutely everything to show off every bit of skin he shouldn’t be looking at. Your lips curving into a sinful little smirk when you notice his eyes dancing off that excuse of fabric you call “shorts”.

“Um…” you hum, after a few moments of silence. Leaning against your wooden door frame to give the tall man an appreciative one-over, “Nanami, right? You’re Higuruma’s friend?”

It’s as if the sound of his own name jolts Nanami right back into his senses, clearing his throat as he readjusts his glasses. “Y-yes. Nanami Kento.” And he winces, fuck he’s never stuttered like this. Never, even in the toughest of board meetings. Yet, here he was - making a fool out of himself. 

Knowing he’s completely fucked when your delicious grin only widens, he bows politely, “Apologies for barging in like this, ma’am. But Higuruma’s sick n’ m’here to collect the rent in his place.”

You wave off his formality, introducing yourself. “Ah, of course. I’ve seen you around, always been too nervous to come up and say hello, though.”

And, suddenly, Nanami’s glad you never came up to him to talk out of your own volition, he thinks he’s rather put off embarrassing himself for later. Coughing softly, “I apologize, s’my fault. It was rude of me to not introduce myself first.”

“Well, better late than never, right?” you continue in your smooth tone. Before your eyes catch down his broad shoulders, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clipboard held between his long, long fingers. “Right- the overdue rent. I swear, Higuruma’s always such a sweetheart, he doesn’t bother to remind me.” Opening your door wider to give Nanami a good look inside your cozy apartment - something forbidden. “Come in come in, I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere in here though, maybe you can help me find it.”

Oh? 

And Nanami knows this is dangerous. He knows this is much more than his simple plan earlier of just “get the money and go”. He knows that little glint in your eye certainly does not bode well for him as soon as he steps through that door. 

Yet, he answers anyway, “Of course, lead the way.”

Every bit of small talk in your sultry voice has Nanami gulping, loosening his favorite yellow tie while he follows you inside. Averting his eyes from the curve of your shorts, he takes in the neat state of your apartment. 

That is, until-

“Here we are.” you lead him to a towering pile of clothes piled unceremoniously on your tv room couch. Gesturing airily at the mess, “I’m sure I left my wallet in one of my pants, so you can just sit here until I-”

“I’ll do it.” Nanami’s quick answer stuns the both of you momentarily. But before you can resist, he’s shrugging off his jacket, ignoring the heat of your gaze when he bunches up his sleeves to reveal strong, veined forearms. “It’s only fair, since m’bothering you so early.”

You chuckle, “Oh? What a gentleman, we can do it together then, handsome.”

So here he was - sat on your cramped couch, your thighs flush against his, tackling your laundry. This was definitely a far cry from getting the rent and leaving - but, alas, Nanami can’t find it in himself to complain when he neatly folds up your clothes. 

Whereas you were hastily throwing them god-knows-where, hissing, “Where- is it-” 

“Patience.” he’s humming, placing another t-shirt on your coffee table. “Higuruma’s in no hurry, he can barely get out of bed right now.”

You click your tongue in frustration, “But you, Nanami-”

“-are perfectly fine helping you out.” Nanami cuts in, flashing you a gentle smile. Your eyes widen at the sight of a soft dimple at the corner of it. Which makes him tear his gaze from that pretty pout on your lips to turn back to his dwindling half of the pile, “Besides, it would be a shame if such a nice apartment was messed up by- by-”

Fuck. 

Was that what he thought it was?

His fingers tremble, looking so fucking big wrapped around that those tiny strings of hot pink. Sinful. Obscene. Shit, if he tried he could just rip it to pieces with his bare hands right now - even if you’d been wearing it.

“Hm?” you’re gasping at the sight of the man before you, body stiff, ears a guilty red, gaze hardening at where he was holding onto one of your panties. Oh, shit. You pluck the offending piece of material from his hands, “Oh- whoops. Um- that can’t really be folded.” Throwing a wink at the flustered man - and the lingerie right back at him. “Evidently.”

It was all too much for Nanami, and he’s bringing a hand up to cover his blush - before ripping it off like it burned when he realized it was the same hand he held your panties with. 

Somehow, he manages to choke out, “Maybe- maybe we should try looking somewhere else.”

And it was true - the few messy clothes now leftover (and…Nanami couldn’t forget, your underwear) didn’t show any signs of hiding your wallet. 

“If you say so~” you muse, getting up from your seat - only to get down on your knees. Right in front of Nanami’s manspread legs. 

“Wh-what are you-”

“Under the couch.” you interrupt, enjoying this way too fucking much for the poor man’s sanity as you flash him a cheeky grin. And he smacks himself mentally for letting his imagination be toyed by your teasing whims. “I might’ve dropped it under the couch, so won’t you be a dear and help lift it while I look?”

He couldn’t get up fast enough, almost stumbling over his long legs to crouch down beside you - just anywhere away from this scandalous position. “Ready?” Nanami rasps, biceps bulging tight against his button-up when he easily tilts over your couch. 

“More than.” you take a second longer to admire him before going back to your mission.

Which - whatever’s left of the rational part of Nanami’s brain really thinks might just be to drive him insane instead finding that fucking- what was it- wallet? 

“Hmmm seems it’s not here either, right, Ken?” He doesn’t know what he’s reeling at more - the fact that you used his first fucking name or the way you were arched so teasingly like that. On your knees, spine curving into a delicious little bend that has the crotch of his pants growing just a bit tighter. And- shit he was wrong. So, so wrong. Because those weren’t a sinful pair of shorts like he’d initially thought after all, instead, they were more like underwear. Flimsy and thin, bunching up perfectly at the crease of your hips. 

You were captivating. 

At his heavy silence, you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Oh? Was it the name? Sorry, Nanami, you’ve just helped me so much that it ah- slipped out. I won’t do it again.”

“No.” he grits out, the both of you surprised by the ragged hitch in his answer. Already so disgustingly missing the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue. “I’d like it if you called me that- ‘Ken’ that is, if you want.”

“Well then, Ken.” you brush up unnecessarily against his sculpted body as you move to get up and dust yourself down. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my wallet’s not down there.”

Shit, he thinks, looking down at the empty spot of carpeted floor for the first time. You little tease, you knew what you were doing. 

Grinning unabashedly as you tug on his arm, “Come on! There’s one more place to look.”

As you pulled him along to the kitchen, Nanami had held out the hope that maybe - just maybe - this would be an actual attempt at finally paying off your overdue rent. Maybe he could walk out of this unscathed and holding onto whatever’s left of his dignity (and lacking the raging boner that was threatening against his slacks right now).

But every feeble hope of that was thrown out the window the moment you instructed him to hold the rickety, certainly unsafe chair propped up in front of your counter steady. 

“I swear I must’ve left it somewhere up there.” you grumble. Not wasting a moment before climbing onto it and rifling on top of your high cabinets. “No harm in trying, right?”

He gulps, palms getting sweaty on the wooden back of the chair with the effort to keep it still. “Are you sure you left it on top of there?”

“Huh? Yes yes, of course.” you answer absentmindedly. Your shirt snagging on your arms as you raise them even higher, “Think you can see something from down there?”

If Nanami could see the top of your shelves, then he didn’t want to find out - not when one glance upwards blessed him with a forbidden glimpse right up your t-shirt. All it took was a flash of skin before he was hit with the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Ken~”

“Fuck!” he breathes, when he looks up involuntarily at the sound of his name. Face burning when you raise a brow, “U-um, m’not sure.” 

Yeah, he sure could see something - hell, he wanted to see more. 

He urgently swipes at the sweat slowly beading at his forehead, immediately regretting his actions when the chair tips ever-so-slightly. “Shit, I apologize, n’ I also apologize for what I’m about to do-” He gasps over your soft yelp, before wrapping two warm hands around the small of your waist. Searing. Soft. Planting you softly on the firm floor like some lil’ ragdoll, “-but I can’t let you put yourself in danger this way.”

Before you know it, you’re back in the safety of the ground. Stood right in front of a determined Nanami as he cranes his head up in your stuffy kitchen, backed up against the counter as he takes over looking for your wallet. 

“Let me, instead.” he grunts. 

But oh even with how genius he thought it was to look instead - even with how he stopped himself from looking at that sinful little slice of heaven - Nanami Kento had another problem. 

A problem that presented itself in the way that your body was pressed flush against his muscled chest, two of your thighs straddling his thick ones. Caged perfectly against him, exactly in the way he shouldn’t have been imagining - but did, anyway. And shit if he angled his body just right he could feel the heat of your core - the way your eager front was drawing in closer. 

“Ah-” he grunts when your soft palm glides lightly across his pecs. Jaw clenching while he tries to blink his hazy eyes back into the glaringly empty top of your cabinets, “My apologies, seems uh- your wallet isn’t- here-” 

Each word is wrenching out of his pretty, worry-bitten lips, a ragged gasp with every accidental brush of the pads of your fingers at the hem of his tight pants. 

“It isn’t there, hm?” you purr, a low honeyed tone that has all the blood in Nanami’s body rushing to his fat cock. “Well what do you suppose we do about that, Ken? Since I can’t pay the rent?”

Nanami doesn’t know whether you’re talking about the rent or that massive tent in his pants he really couldn’t explain away. Instead, he spits, “You knew what you were hah- doing, didn’t you, you lil’ minx? You don’t have your fuckin’ wallet here.”

And the air is so thick, so heady that he can only bring himself to pull away mere millimeters from where he was hovering near your face. 

But even that was too much - and in a split-second, you have your deft fingers wrapped tightly around his speckled tie. “And if I did?” Pulling close enough to ghost your lips against his, “You’re smart, Ken. So m’asking once again, what do you suppose we do about that?”

As if to draw out the answer from him, you’re giving a long, hard drag of your hot cunt along the outline of his swollen cock. You could almost feel every throb and nudge of his veins along the side, and it made you salivate.

“I suppose…” he answers, guttural, like some dark, primal part of himself is peaking its head out with each hot breath fanning your face. A large hand coming up to squish your cheeks into a pretty pout, pursing your lips perfectly for him. “That you hit me if you don’t like this, darling.”

And fuck for all how much of a gentleman Nanami acted - he kissed the exact opposite. All but ruining your lips in such a messy clash of teeth and tongue and him. Devouring you. 

“Fuck- shoulda known.” he’s letting out a humorless laugh, swiping his tongue across your glossy lower lips. “Should’ve known when you invited me in. Such a tease.” Drinking in your breathless moans, sucking on your tongue, “Such a- ngh- horny lil’ thing. This what you wanted all along?”

You hum into the kiss so drunk, “Maybe.” Dancing your hands all across where his toned muscles were fighting against the restraints of his shirt, “But you really can’t blame me.”

And maybe it was true - maybe this was inevitable. Either way, Nanami didn’t know, nor did he really care - not when you were letting out such sweet gasps when he bites down on your bottom lip - just a little punishment. Kissing his way down your heated skin, giving a languid lick at where he suspected that secret sensitive spot on your neck would be. 

“Oh! Ken.” you moan. Bingo. 

He’s unbuttoned his shirt now - or maybe it was you. Fuck, either way you couldn’t tear your eyes off of his pretty washboard abs. Curving and dipping like he was sculpted meticulously. 

And that’s all it takes for your already-dripping cunt to grow impossibly wetter, and he could feel it leaking through those flimsy cotton shorts of yours. Forming a messy sheen right at that damp spot of precum on his pants.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, my love.” Nanami murmurs, swiping a thumb down that sopping wet slit of yours through your shorts. Just marveling at the way that simple touch makes another wave of your sweet sweet juices bead through the fabric. “Hah, absolutely dripping. This all f’me?”

At your half-delirious nod, he flashes you a smile so handsome that it only makes you squirm more impatiently. “How sweet.” Giving your nose a chaste peck, “So good to me. So needy.”

“You’re the same, though.” you accuse, hotly.

And it’s true - Nanami couldn’t deny the aching need of his cock, the way he all but moans in response, “Then tell me- hngh tell me what you want. I’ll give you- anything-” Managing to get out through hot, sloppy kisses planted right on your wobbly lips, “-anything.”

But, ah, you always did manage to surprise him. And instead of an answer, you’re getting right down on your knees in front of him like you did not too long ago - though, this time, you’re reaching up to fumble with his belt. 

“Wan’ taste you.” you huff when his expensive notches prove too stubborn. “Wan’ feel you in my mouth so bad, Ken.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles darkly, easily loosening his belt and his pants along with it. Rock-hard cock sensitive and just smearing a pool of precum where his fat head springs up to hit your lips. Such a pretty shade of gloss. Nanami laces his hand on your scalp to guide you forwards, slowly, “Then take it. Take it f’me, pretty.”

He was so pretty that you possibly couldn’t not - a delicate blushing red at his very tip, glistening and absolutely soaked in precum down the long path to his creamy base, his heavy balls. So girthy that it made your cunt clench in anticipation.

And then there’s no more talking. Hell, you barely get enough time to admire Nanami’s massive cock before he’s bullying it between your lips. Wetting his thick, angry tip with your saliva, just enough to eye down at the way your lips bulge so prettily around him. 

“Gonna hafta open w-wider if you wanna take me, pretty. Open hah- yeah jus’ like that.” He’s reeling your head back, all the way till you were just kissing at his thick, angry tip. “Now spit on it, my love.”

Despite being the one to say it, Nanami’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief when you’re readily decorating his swollen length with a steady stream of spit. Your soft palms smearing the saliva along his length. 

You’re slurring, “After all, I still haven’t found my wallet, right?”

And oh he doesn’t even have to ask for what comes next - doesn’t even have to make a noise. 

Immediately, you take him in inch by fucking inch. The deliciously salty twang taking over your senses, and he’s so hot and heavy over your tongue. Veins pulsing in a dizzyingly throb! throb! throb! against the roof of your mouth.

“Are you- are you sure you can-” You shut up his doubts by rubbing your hot tongue along every sensitive ridge you could reach. Bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless little pace to milk his pretty cock for all he’s worth. 

Nanami’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Was this what heaven felt like? 

“F-fuuuck, oh you-” his words are catching in his throat with each flick of the tip of your tongue against his sensitive slit. Just the way he liked it. “-ngh guess that sharp mouth of yours wasn’t just hah- good for teasing, huh?”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute - the complete opposite of the reserved man that’d come knocking on your door. Hips grinding up into your warm tongue mindlessly, slow. Languid - like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “Oh you feel so heavenly- so fuckin’ good it should be illegal.”

You can’t help but bat your teary eyes up at him in response, blinking away the lustful haze to drink in that utterly obscene sight above you. Nanami’s neat, blond hair uncharacteristically disheveled, stray strands sticking to his furrowed brow. Only deepening with each wrecked sigh that leaves his plump lips every time his abs flex with the movement of his fat head hitting the gummy back of your throat. 

He looks so pretty it makes you moan. 

Those electric vibrations going all the way down that wet divot on the tip of Nanami’s painfully hard cock to his heavy balls. 

“Oh shit- shit shit shit feels too good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you gag around him. “Don’t do that don’t-” This only makes you drag your sloppy mouth down him deeper, syrupy moans sticking to

him all the while. 

“Fuck!” Nanami shudders. And he’s pulling you down - hard - barely letting you get a feverish little breath out until your nose is hitting the neat patch of blond at his base. Rubbing up against his toned pelvis. 

Still moving in deep, relentless thrusts inside your gummy cavern. “S’real fuckin’ hard to treat you as nice as I want when you act like that, my love.”

And, of course, the only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles as you take him in faster. Cheeks hollowing to massaging his every sweet spot. Your jaw grinding against his twitching balls with each smack of his hypnotized hips against your mouth, fucking into you the way he wished he could do with your cunt. Frenzied. Sloppy. 

Yeah, this was heaven alright - but you were the fuckin’ devil. 

Of course, you wanted him to treat you like such a slut - so he does. 

Just dragging your stubborn mouth off of his twitching cock, Nanami only reaches down to place an accomplished peck on the pout of your mouth before hoisting you onto the counter. “What? You think I’d really ngh- cum before my darling girl?”

He’s groaning into your mouth, licking at the seam of your candied lips as two strong arms of his spread your legs so far apart it burned. “F-fuck, Ken-”

“Aw look. You’ve got another slutty pair, huh?” he gestures down at the drenched scrap of fabric you so proudly called “panties.” Sliding a thumb underneath to glide it underneath your puffy pussy lips. He’s echoing your sentiment from before, “Said you can’t find your hah- wallet, right?” Well, ya better start makin’ up for that now.”

In all of two seconds, Nanami’s hooking two fingers over your underwear - pulling - ripping. He was right -  Nanami takes a moment to admire your dripping cunt, glistening and needy for him - he could rip those panties right off of you. 

With just one hand pinning you to the cool marble of your counter, the other thumbing open your puffy folds, he’s giving all of your pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Mmm fuck-” he spits into your sloppy hole. Once. Twice. Letting it form a saturated little pool of your juices, before surging back nose-deep with a pained grunt. Again. And again. And again and again- “Jus’ as sweet- as sugary sweet ngh-”

Nanami didn’t think Higuruma knew about this little treasure trove when describing you - though, if he did, then he was well and fully intent on tongue-fucking every little thought out of him right now. 

“Hngh! Shit-” you’re keening when his greedy tongue laps up every bit of your syrupy sweet slick. Alternating - methodically, indecisively - between rolling over your throbbing clit and just dipping into your awaiting entrance. “It feels so- so good, Ken.”

“Yeah that’s right.” he gasps, wrapping those pretty pink lips of his to suck on your clit. Harsh. “Say my name- no, louder. Louder.” 

It’s all you can do to not just scream out his name without your neighbors filing a noise complaint. Dragging your sopping pussy all over his mouth - glistening and obscene right down the bottom half of his face all the way up to smear against his clear glasses. 

Such obscene squelches ring through your kitchen as Nanami keeps making out so messily with your sensitive nub. Ringing in your fucked-out brain, so obscene, so addictive that you barely even register the thick fingers dipping their way around your hole. 

You jolt when the cool metal of his glasses kiss your skin, “O-oh Ken what-” 

“Shhh shhh, darling.” he soothes. The tip of his manicured index circling around your elastic muscle. Hypnotic. “M’gonna take care of you. Gonna take such good-” With this, he’s bullying his fingers inside, “-care of you.”

Tears crinkle at the corners of your eyes at the sheer stimulation. Because for how sweet Nanami was talking you through this, he was absolutely ruthless on your cunt. Not half the man he was this morning - animalistic. Feral, even.

His sharp jaw grinding against your skin, fingers almost a blur with how depraved they were pumping in and out of you. Massaging every hidden corner of your plushy walls, yet you get the feeling that they were calculated. Nanami’s darkened eyes drinking in every whimper and twitch of your body over the glasses inching dangerously downwards. Searching, waiting for that one-

“Ngh!” You worry you’d have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for Nanami holding you down. Body jolting at sudden electricity running through your veins, “Oh- fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god Ken, there. Right there–”

But before the sentence has even left your heavy lips, he’s hitting your g-spot once more. Easily finding the bullseye that has you bucking and arching into his mouth like such a slut. 

And this time - Nanami lets you use his mouth all you want. The fingers splayed out to pin you down moves to toy with your puffy clit. Rolling between his fingers while he hisses out syrupy sweet praises, “Shit, never liked m’name that much- ngh- but it sounds so pretty on your lips. So sweet. So- oh-” 

The sight of your cunt just beading with need has him kissing it once more. All over your sensitive nub, your ravaged hole, hell, even down to the mess of slick dripping down at your thighs. Faster. Sloppier. No rhythm or rhyme anymore. 

“M’so close.” you whine, weaving your fingers through his blond hair to help ride his face easier. Jolting with each purposeful flick of his tongue. “Gonna cum, Ken.”

“Cum then.” he answers, simply, grinning a guiltily glossy grin, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, right?”

And then you do - stars behind your eyes and that little nickname you’d made Nanami in your mouth. Over and over while he tonguefucks you through your high. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–” you whine, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks eat time he swiped at your sensitive spots, dragging it out longer. Until your soft whimpers were drowning out the squelches from below. Until you were blinking your spotty vision back. Until you were squirming your hips higher up the counter to pull away from Nanami’s unforgiving tactics. “M’too sensitive- Nana-”

He tuts, interrupting your orgasm-drunk babbles, “Tha’s not what you call me.” Pulling away just enough to hum, “All I did was eat this pretty cunt out, darling n’ you already forgot my name?”

You shiver - both at his mean little tone and the absolutely sinful sight between your shaky thighs. Nanami’s lips plump and irritated, eyes foggy - glasses even more so with all the sloppy dredges of spit and your slick.

Shit, you think he’s never looked prettier. 

“Is that so?”

It’s all you hear before you’re hit with his glasses being gently placed onto your nose bridge - followed shortly by the realization that oh, you said that out loud. But Nanami basks in your sudden shyness, giving your lips a chaste, lingering peck. “You dirtied my glasses, y’know. Now you have to make up for that on top of the rent.”

And by the feeling of his thick tip kissing at your pussy lips, you had a very good idea about how you’d be making up for it. Making a mess. Sliding the curve of his head up and down. Up and down up and down up and-

“B-but don’t forget.” you manage to grit out by the time he’s nudging his divot against your clit. “You have to make- hah- make up for-” 

In a fluid motion, you’re reaching your fingers to dig into the irresistible tan skin at his hips, all hard muscle and the thick fabric of where he’d pulled his pants down just enough. You press down on his bulging back pocket, smirk growing at the familiar flash of hot pink you could spy, “-my panties.”

The moment the obscene little accusation leaves your lips, you give a soft tug forwards. Nanami’s towering body being pulled easily to push his weeping tip past your puffy folds. 

“F-fuck.” he’s throwing his head back at the feeling. “You hngh- saw, huh?”

Oh, if he hadn’t been imagining this the moment he’d stepped inside your apartment then Nanami thinks he might’ve just passed out right then and there. 

Because you were so warm, so addictive wrapped around his cock - even when he’s barely even in. That he just has to keep going - after all, it’s for the rent, right?

It’s what he likes to think.

It’s what he whispers - over and over into your open mouth as he bullies his thick cock past your gummy entrance. Letting your plush walls suck the ever-loving soul out of him with each lazy, lingering grind just to fit himself inside. 

“O-oh! Shit-” your nails leave jagged red marks down Nanami’s broad shoulders when he stuffs you full. Desperate. “Y-you’re so big, Ken–” 

At this, you feel Nanami’s girth grow even wider, stretching your walls until it felt like he was molding your poor pussy to the shape. Just reaching into your lungs. You squeal, “Wait- you got bigger- what-”

“I know I know, You got it, my love.” he’s soothing your cries with sugary kisses at the corners of your mouth. Drawing slow, methodical circles on your clit in time with his experimental thrusts. “You got it. You can take it. Shhh shh-” He’s drinking in your cute mewls, cupping your pretty face with his free hand, “You’ll take it right? All of it, like my good girl? You’ve gotta make up for it, right?” At your delirious nod, “Words, pretty.”

“Yes, please.” You buck your hips in a sultry tandem matching his, the cool frame of his glasses still kissing at your skin. “M’gonna take it all like your good girl, Ken.”

Shit, he can feel himself growing even bigger just halfway into you, “Then-” Angling your teary face down to watch the mess down below. The way your greedy cunt was trying to milk each and every inch of him like it was delicious. “-look.”

You can’t tear your eyes away as he delves into you so filthy. 

Not waiting for your pathetic whines about him being “too big” - no, Nanami’s only pulling you back from escaping like some sextoy - his favorite one. Still toying sweetly with your clit while he pushes against that feeble ring of resistance. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

“Ken!” you’re yelping out when he finally bottoms out. Your swollen folds meeting his drenched hilt, blond tufts of hair brushing up against your pelvis. Sighing, ”Finally.”

“Finally?” he’s dragging out his words with an already-crooked, pussydrunk grin. Eyes wild - bewildered almost at how well you were taking him. “S-seriously? Did you say ngh- ‘finally’, my girl?” Each word has him tapping more strength behind those thrusts, faster. Harder. Spitting out so contendly, “Finally- hah. Such a slut f’me, hm?”

He’s plunging into you like such an animal right now, so harsh that it was almost difficult to pull back. To dare subject himself to not be buried inside your dripping cunt for even a split-second. 

In response, you lick a long stripe up the sensitive area of his neck, splaying out a hand to squeeze Nanami’s pec - and the rapid heartbeat you felt beneath it. “You’re not- ngh- any better.”

“I know.” Nanami leers, unabashedly kneading at your sore tits now. Fucking you harder and harder into the counter. Connecting his sweaty forehead with yours to look you right in the eyes as he gruffs, “I’ve been thinking about fucking this pretty cunt as soon as you opened that door, y’know.”

You feel his cock twitch wildly at the confession, dragging against your gummy walls with his tip. Hitting - oh-so-expertly - that one sensitive honeypot of nerves. Which makes Nanami’s mouth fall slack with what a treasure you were. 

“Y-you’re such a-” you’re moans are syrupy and slurring together now. Holding onto the larger man for dear life, “such a pervert, Ken.”

Shit, you were squeezing around him so hard that it was almost impossible to pull out. Abs straining to keep up the loud staccato of skin-against-skin, and Nanami’s long, jagged rams inside your wet heaven.

Nanami’s nosing down your pulse, letting his hot tongue loll out to catch the salty drops of your tears, “Mhm, only for hngh- you. Because you’re my girl now, aren’t ya?”

So easy for him to trawl out those addictive moans with each drag of the upwards curve of his fat cock. Thick tip hitting your g-spot, your cervix - as if he was branding his name into your pretty pussy from the inside. Sloppy. 

Leaving a bruising little Kento. With his erratic fingers pinching and rolling your clit at the same feverish tempo of his cock bullying inside your cunt - Kento. With his heavy balls smacking against your ass, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure all the way up to his sensitive slit, rubbing up against your succubus walls - Kento. With the way your heels were now digging into those dimples at the bottom of his spine, sure to leave marks with the way you were pulling him impossibly closer. So needy - Kento.

Only getting sloppier. The only thing in your mind right now - Kento Kento Kento-

So, really, it makes sense when that’s the only thing you’re capable of getting out once you cum. It sneaks up on you at first, and then all at once - and before you know it, you’re cumming so desperately all over Nanami’s relentless cock. 

Over and over.

Your thighs spasming, such a slutty ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth with each wave of pleasure he’s forcing out of you by targeting your ravaged g-spot. Only a few more of those sloppy, mean thrusts left in the man himself before Nanami’s spilling into your greedy cunt. 

Painting your gummy walls white with each painful squeeze of his balls, he’s still thrusting - as if on instinct. Shoving his seed deeper and deeper down your cum-filled hole until he’s sure it’s overfilled. 

By god were you a vision, he’s thinking deliriously. Tears pooling at your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, throat to shoot to do anything but whimper when he keeps going in and out in and out in and-

And if he angled his head just right, he could see the hot globs of cum that take to trickling out from your puffy folds, pooling at a mouthwateringly creamy base around his hilt.

“Ah,” Nanami wastes no time squeezing his index into your already-bulging entrance, pumping the cum slobbering out back in. “Better- hah- better not waste any-” He could barely speak right now, cumming harder than he has in his whole life - in fact, his overworked cock was still shooting out wispy spurts of his seed. Like he couldn’t stop. “-after all, y’haven’t made up for all the overdue rent yet, my love.”

A/N. Concept inspired by this NSFW audio by IchigekiVA that my friend sent me <3

Plagiarism of work not authorized.

[r4di0h3ad]

just practice

paring! bsf!jj x reader

in which! you have a date coming up and you still haven’t lost your virginity, so you go to your best friend in the hopes he will help you out and save you from embarrassment

warnings! smut. loss of virginity. oral sex (f. receiving) pnv sex. unprotected sex.

part 2

you find jj at the chateau, laying in a hammock on the porch with his shirt off and a joint between his fingers. you could smell the scent of weed before you even made it to the door and jj gave you a smile when he noticed you.

“hey, j.” you greeted, now standing in front of the bench. “you busy?”

“what’s it look like?” he took a long drag from the joint and exhaled. you couldn’t help but grin at his glazed over eyes and his genuine, high smile.

you glanced into the screen door, looking for john b, or anyone else, but couldn’t see well from the smoky haze.

“anyone home?”

he shakes his head no.

“kie and pope are working, think john b’s out with sarah.” he says. “why? you okay?” his eyes soften and you notice his look of concern.

“yeah,” you smile, “everything’s fine, just need to uh- talk to you.” you had no idea how you were gonna go through with this without making it incredibly awkward. you already felt sick to your stomach at the thought of him rejecting you and never seeing you the same way after this.

jj nods and stubs out his joint. he stands up and opens the screen door, motioning for you to enter first.

“after you.”

you smile and step inside, but you soon begin to feel ill at the fact that you were really going to ask him this. you wanted this to happen, but you were terribly nervous.

you lead him to his room and close the door behind you. he sits on the edge of the bed and you follow, sitting crisss cross, facing him.

“you sure everything’s fine?” he asks, obviously questioning the fact that you wanted to speak to him in his room, and that you were silent.

“i told you about that guy i’ve been talking to for a few weeks, yeah?” you start, not wanting to make eye contact with the boy.

“yeah.” he nods.

you try not to pick at the skin of your fingernails.

“okay, well, he asked me out.” you say. “the date’s tomorrow.”

he furrows his eyebrows in question, noticing that you sounded kind of disappointed about something that was supposed to be good.

“well that’s a good thing, right?” he scoffed. “i mean, i cant remember the last time you went on a date.”

“shut up.” you nudge him. “yeah, it’s a good thing… i like him- i think.”

“alright, well, that’s all you wanted to tell me?” he asks. “you don’t need dating advice right? because i can’t help you in that department.”

you fight a smile at his remark and shake your head no.

“okay, here’s the thing.” you sigh before you force out your next words, absolutely dreading his reaction. “i don’t know if he’ll wanna sleep with me eventually, and, well he’s kind of experienced with girls and all that, and i’m kind of…. not.” you cringe at your choice of words, already regretting coming to jj out of embarrassment. you glance at him momentarily and he seems to be studying you, waiting for you to keep talking. “what i mean is, like-“ you sighed. you knew you sounded like a complete idiot, but you didn’t want to back out now.

“you know i’m a virgin, right?” you didn’t even want to look at him after the words came out of your mouth.

he smiled a little.

“i, uh, i figured.” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“don’t be a dick.” you shove him once again and he chuckles, which allows you to lighten up just slightly. “i’m saying that i don’t know what i’m doing - y’know, with guys and all that. i don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“so you want… sex advice? from me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows with suspicion.

you nervously bite the inside of your cheek and your face grows hot.

“well, i thought maybe a little more hands on.” you said before you could even stop yourself. you knew you had to just come out and say it or you would’ve backed out and nothing would ever come of this situation. you searched his face for a reaction.

he looked confused, but he didn’t seem whole heartedly against the idea. the silence between you both was becoming awkward and you felt the need to explain yourself, hopefully making the situation sound less like you were coming on to him and more like a friend just asking for help.

“i mean like, because you’re a guy and all, you would know what guys like best, i guess?” you said, as you watched him cross his arms over his chest and lean against the headboard of the bed. “and i was thinking about the fact that i’m going on a date for the first time since freshman year and now there’s a very high chance that i’ll sleep with him in the coming weeks, and it just- i don’t know, the idea of losing my virginity to someone i’ve known for a month didn’t really sound good to me.” you we’re rambling at this point to try and defend your case. “i would rather do it with someone i know, and trust.”

“you want me to take your virginity?” he asked, blatantly. “that’s what you came here for?”

you nod, probably chewing a hole into your cheek now.

“if it’s too weird for you, you don’t have to do it at all, it’s okay.” you said. “you were just the only person i felt like i could ask without it being awkward.”

“no, no,” his expression softens and he shakes his head, pulling his arms from his chest and taking his back off the headboard. “i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up because you expected this to go far south.

“yeah, no big deal.” he shrugs, even though in his head he knew it was a huge deal. he was going to be your first time and if he screwed it up, there was no telling what would happen between you two. “but, this won’t change anything between us right?” he asked. “like i just don’t want it to be awkward afterwards.”

“i swear.” you said, although you didn’t entirely know if that was the truth. “you’re just helping me out, right?”

“alright.” he responds. “you, uh, you wanna do this now or..?” he clears his throat again, visibly getting nervous, but your fears seemed to be disappearing now that you knew he wasn’t against the idea.

“the sooner, the better.” you said.

jj gets up from the bed and flips the lock on the door on the off chance someone were to come home.

“just a warning though,” you start, “i’ll definitely be really bad at this compared to the other girls you’ve been with.”

“that’s all right, you gotta learn somewhere.” he says, walking back to you and stopping right in front of where you were sitting on the bed. your heart started to race as the reality of what you were about to do started setting in. he sits down next to you and you could smell salt water and weed on his skin. “i’m gonna start with kissing you, is that okay?” you searches your face for confirmation and you nod, giving him the okay. “and you’ll tell me if i’m taking things too fast or if you wanna stop, right?”

you giggle a little at his attention to the matter.

“yes jj.”

you see a very slight smile appear on his lips before he slowly leaned in and connected them with yours. he tasted like weed but in the most perfect way as he skillfully moved his lips in sync with yours. his tongue softly swiped your bottom lip at the same time his hands found their way to the sides of your face and he held you there gently. you took him touching you as a sign to occupy your own hands with his body as you brought your hands around his back, feeling his bare skin.

his kisses started leading down your chin, and further down onto your neck where he connected his lips with your skin. you shivered at the new feeling of someone kissing your neck as he went lower still, reaching your collarbone. he pulled away and tugged at the him of your shirt, asking for more access to your body and he helped you out of the fabric.

“you doin okay?” he asks.

“totally fine.”

he connects his lips to your collar again as he carefully lays you down onto your back. he fights the urge not to leave any hickeys on you, knowing you had a date tomorrow.

you scoot your body up until you’re in the middle of the bed so that he can easily get on top of you. he continues kissing your body, getting lower and lower and with each passing second, you could feel yourself getting hotter and your arousal getting stronger. his mouth reached the waistband of your jean shorts and he looked up your for permission to take them off. you nodded and he unbuttoned them before sliding them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

jj kissed the curve of your hipbone and you mindlessly rolled your core up towards his mouth, to which you could feel him smirk against your skin at your neediness.

“i’ll get there princess.” he said against the space under your bellybutton. you practically lost your breath at his words and your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment.

he continued kissing you even lower, placing his lips over clothed core and hooking a finger underneath the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“can i take these off?” he asked.

“please.” you nod, almost sounding too desperate.

he pulls your bottoms down your legs, leaving you exposed to him. the first time anyone had seen you like this, and you were thankful it was jj and not some random boy who didn’t know the first thing about you.

“you still alright?”

“jj,” you giggle. “i’ll tell you if somethings wrong, okay?”

“just being courteous.” he joked.

he brought his hand to your now bare core and used his thumb to swipe a line from your entrance up to your clit, making you whine from just one touch. he spreads your wetness around your clit, his pants growing tighter at the sight of your arousal. as he rubs painfully slow circles, he searches your face for signs of enjoyment, but your eyes were shut tight and your lips were parted, quiet whimpers leaving your mouth.

“just relax, okay?” he said, to which you nod eagerly. you were totally not relaxed at all. in fact you were amped on adrenaline from the way he kissed you.

and then before you could register what was happening, you felt something new touching you. you opened your eyes and looked down at jj’s face in between your thighs, seeing his tongue swirling over your clit. it felt better than any time you had ever touched yourself. his eyes met yours for a second and you wondered why you never asked him to do this any sooner even though you pictured him going down on you many times before

your hands found their way to his blonde locks, your fingers tangling into his hair as you threw your head back on the pillow.

“oh my god, jj” you moaned, to which he picked up the pace a little. he gripped your thighs firmly, holding them apart, occasionally rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs to relax you.

his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, making you jolt your hips up in pleasure at the new sensation. your legs were trembling under his grip and jj didn’t think he could get any harder, but he was, in fact, getting harder by the minute.

“jj,” you moaned his name, “please don’t stop!” you were pulling his hair tighter, trying not to be too loud in case anyone were to come home, but it was impossible to keep your mouth shut with the way he was eating your pussy. “feels so good” you cried.

your hips were rocking back and forth, rolling in the same rhythm as his tongue, practically riding his face. he knew you were close based on the fact that your moans were getting closer together and your legs were shaking harder. he suddenly switched the direction of his tongue, now going side to side and occasionally sucking on your clit, swallowing your juices.

your back was arched off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for something to hold on to as your high approached in small waves. you moved one hand to cover your mouth, trying to stifle your moans, but jj immediately reached up to your arm and pulled it from your face, not stopping his movements.

“need to hear you cum” he said against your clit before harshly sucking on it.

“fuck” you moaned, his words alone almost leading you over the edge.

he snuck two fingers into your entrance and slowly moved them against the sweet spot inside you. the mixture of his mouth expertly lapping at your clit and his fingers pushing into you had you coming undone.

“fuck- don’t stop- please- don’t st-“ you couldn’t even get the last words out as you felt yourself completely lose control. you didn’t know how loud you were moaning because all of your senses had faltered as the tidal wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

he kept licking until you had fully ridden out your orgasm, and even then, he continued, his grip still tight on your legs as they trembled. you pushed his head away from the overstimulation and then lay limp, your chest rising and falling as you came down, your eyes still closed.

“need a second?” he asked, mockingly, his hands running up your torso and to your still covered breasts. he felt your nipples harden under your bikini top and he desperately wanted to get you out of it.

you wrap your arms around his back and pull him on top of you, connecting your lips with his again. he immediately kisses you back and reaches behind you to undo your top, which quickly comes off and jj’s eyes land on your breasts. he takes them both in his hands and leans over you to suck your nipple, making you shiver.

you occupy your own hands with his belt, fumbling with the clasp until it’s undone and pulling it through the loops.

he pulls himself away from your tits and starts undoing the zipper before his eyes meet yours.

“you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks.

“i wouldn’t be fully naked in front of you right now if i wasn’t.” you joke.

he gets up from the bed to take his shorts off and look around the room, presumably for a condom.

“john b’s gotta have some around here, hold on.” he says, opening up the top drawer of the dresser and rummaging through the pairs of socks and underwear.

“you don’t have to, jay.” you say, but he doesn’t listen, still looking inside the dresser for any small, silver packages. “i’m on birth control.”

he turns around cocks his head at you.

“what?” you question. “makes my periods lighter.” you shrug.

“i’m still pulling out though.” he says before he walks back to the edge of the bed and slides his boxers off, revealing his achingly hard cock. you visibly got nervous at his length, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. jj notices the redness in your face and gets into the bed, pushing hair out of your face with his fingers. “i’ll stop if it’s too much, just tell me.” you nod, anxiously and he positions himself on top of you, stroking his cock a few times before you feel his tip at your entrance. his eyes meet yours for confirmation and you give him a nod.

his cock slowly pushes into you, not even an inch as he doesn’t want to hurt you. you shut your eyes hard, preparing for it to hurt, but you feel barely any pain. he kisses your neck and pushes himself in a little farther.

“this feel okay?” he asks against your skin.

“feels good, j.” your hands find their way to his back again.

once he bottoms out, you feel a slight pressure at your cervix before he slowly starts moving, giving you time to adjust to the feeling.

you hear jj moan in your ear from the painfully slow strokes he was taking, trying to keep himself from going too fast for you. his cock rubbed against your g-spot and you kiss the area in between his collar and neck.

“i’m okay jj.” you reassure him. “faster, please.”

he picks up the pace and continues kissing your neck. your nails dig into the skin of his back.

“you feel so good” he moans. “doin’ so good for me- fuck.” he didn’t even realize what he was saying, but you enjoyed the hell out of it. his praises added to the pleasure of him inside you.

he was going fast enough now that you could hear your skin hitting against each others as your hips connected. every thrust was stroking your sweet spot and you were pretty sure you were leaving scratches on his back, but jj felt too good to even notice.

he leaned back a little so that all his weight was on his knees and his back was straight as he grabbed one of your legs for support and used his other hand to rub your clit at the same time he was fucking you. the double stimulation illicited a loud moan from you that encouraged jj to keep going, almost nearing his end.

his thrusts were getting sloppier and his breathing was heavier but he wanted to make you finish before him. your chest heaved, feeling the new sensation of him filling you up at the same time as his fingers worked on your clit. the pressure was building up and you knew you were close. you suddenly pulled him against you so that your chests were pressed against each others.

“fuck- jj” you moaned. “m’so close.”

his heavy breathing sounded like heaven to you as he started to fuck you even harder, his cock sliding perfectly in and out of you.

“sweetheart” he moaned into your neck. “m’not gonna last much longer.”

almost immediately after he said those words, you felt the band in your stomach snap as you came around his cock, squeezing and pulling him deeper inside you. you cried out his name as he fucked you through your second orgasm.

“fuck, baby-“ he pulled out of you and stroked his cock that was slick with your wetness. you watched his face contort in pleasure, his eyes barely open and his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed. his cum shot onto your stomach and tits.

he tried not to stare too long at the mess he made of you, realizing almost as soon as he finished that this was a one time thing he may never get you like this again.

he got out of the bed and grabbed a shirt of the floor, which he cleaned you up with and tossed it.

“you okay?” he asked again.

you rolled your eyes.

“how many times are you gonna ask that?” you scoffed. “i liked it, j. don’t know how my date’s gonna top that.” you joked.

then, jj remembered that this was all practice for you to go and have sex with another guy and he suddenly felt sick. he pulled his boxers back on and picked up your articles of clothing from the floor and tossed them to you.

the truth is, you didn’t even want to go on that date anymore. not after the way jj took care of you.

“hey, jj!” a voice, john b’s, ripped through the chateau and both of your eyes widened, looking at each other with panic. “you home?”

you swiftly put your bottoms and shorts back on in under 30 seconds and shrugged yourself into your flimsy shirt while jj was putting his belt back on. you quickly exited john b’s room before he could see where you both came from and you nervously greeted him in the living room to see that sarah and kie were home as well.

“heyy, jb.” jj said, awkwardly.

“what have you two been doing all day?” john b asks.

kiara walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer and when she turned around, she noticed the marks on jj’s back. she paused in her steps.

“jj, what’s with all the scratches on your ba-“ and then she realized. her face contorted in disgust. “ewwww, are you guys fucking serious?”

your face grows hot with embarrassment and you wanted to dig a whole to die in, but john b seems barely faced as he walked past you, saying something near you.

“at least you made that boy’s dreams come true.”