#thinking about that last image made me smile on my way to work this morning because it's so horrible it loops around to hilarious 😂
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This scene in The Bear hit like, so many kinks of mine 👀👌💯🔥
#there are some delicious fics of them on AO3 jsyk#thinking about that last image made me smile on my way to work this morning because it's so horrible it loops around to hilarious 😂#my kind of dark humour#anyway this scene was hot as hell#the bear#carmy x nyc chef#carmy x chef#new york chef x carmen#new york chef#nyc chef#carmen berzatto#chefzatto
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BSD Men : When They Have A Wet Dream About You
Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, Chuuya, and Sigma
❗WARNINGS❗: SMUT, MDNI, wet dream, breeding kink, moaning, masturbating, arousal, groaning, moaning, public, praise and etc
Summary :They all start off with the wet dreams. They simply just have a huge crush on you
🖤DAZAI🖤
It would've been another normal day at the office if it weren't for you jumping on his cock. Nobody else was in the office, but anybody could've walked in at any moment. Dazai was sitting on his chair while you straddled his lap. Your tight walls were soaking his cock. You felt like heaven. If he relaxed even a little, he would cum instantly. He had to try his best to hold it in.
He couldn't help but moan and whimper. One of his hands was gripping onto your ass and the other was on your clothed breast. Your hands were messing up his hair and clenched tightly on his shoulders. Your moans made it hard for him to hold himself back from bending you over his desk. He wanted to fuck you vigorously.
"How were you worried about getting caught if your moaning this loudly~? Ngh~! So tight~" he moans
"I can't hold on much longer~ mmn~! god, I've never felt this good, Dazai~" you moaned
When you moaned his name, he almost came right then and there. He felt his orgasm and he was feeling a bit desperate. Using his hands, he made your hips move faster to quicken the pace. You moaned louder "Then cum on my cock, bella~ agh~! You feel too good~ I'm gonna cum so much~!" He whimpers
Both of your moans became louder and a couple more seconds later you came together.
Suddenly Dazai wakes up. He gasps a moan as he cums on his pants. His clenches tightly on his futon while gently arching his back. Ecstacy washed over his entire body. His body was hot and twitching from his climax. His cock throbbed aggressively inside his pants.
After he finished cumming, he was breathing heavily. His mind was blank, but as he calmed down from his orgasm, he remembered his dream about you. He wished it was real. He wish he could kiss, touch, feel you. It was like he needed you. Maybe he's only thinking this way because his mind is a little fogged up from suddenly waking up. He cleaned himself up before going back to bed. It took him a long time to go back to sleep because he couldn't stop thinking about you and the dream.
In the morning, he got up to get ready for work. He was still thinking about the dream. It felt too real to just forget about it. When he arrived at the office, he noticed that you weren't there yet. Since he didn't sleep well last night, he decided to sleep on his desk for a couple of minutes.He was woken up by someone shaking him awake
"Dazai, get up" you said in a soft voice
When he heard your voice, his mind went straight to how you moaned in his dream. He jolted a bit before looking at you
"Kunikida told me to tell you to do you work. Do you think I need to help you with your papers, again?" You asked him while raising an eyebrow and sounded slightly annoyed
He kept staring at you for a couple seconds. His cheeks had a small tint of pink. It didn't help that your hand was on his shoulder just like it was when he was dreaming about you "There's nothing I'd like more, Bella, but first I must go to the bathroom" he gave you a warm smile before he rushed off to the bathroom. You just looked him confused
When he made it to one of the stalls, he palmed his erection. Why did you have such a huge impact on him? His hands were moving on their own as his right hand began to stroked his cock. He wanted to stop but he also didn't. It felt too good. Images of the dream popped into his head, only fueling to his arousal and pleasure. He was panting quietly, trying not to be loud.
His hand was stroking his cock aggressively. He was so desperate to cum. He imagined fucking you like he did in his dream and cumming inside you. He didn't last very long after the thought of it. It wasn't even five minutes before he came. Cum was spilling out of his dick. His cock was Throbbing against his hand as he gasps. His cock was covered in his own cum, except, he only wished that it was covering your walls instead.
He walked back in the office to see you already doing some of his paper. You pulled up a chair next to his chair. He sat down and pretended nothing happened. He looked at you with a smile "if not doing my work makes you sit next to me, I might just never do it"
You rolled your eyes with a smile" I believe you, and because of that I'm never helping you again after today"
He gasps dramatically "that's so mean! But you said the same thing yesterday" he smirks while resting his head on his hand "do you have something to tell me?" He teases
You smirked and leaned towards him. His eyes widen slightly and his smirk went away. You rested your hand on his thigh which made him twitch. You chuckled softly before saying "You fucking wish"
You took your hand away and went back to doing his papers. He was dazed as fuck. He whined "don't play with my heart like that, bella" he cross his legs to hide his new erection, cursing himself.
You laughed "well, hurry up and finish your papers, idiot"
It's an understatement to say he's obsessed with you. He really hopes one day you can call him yours and he can call you his.
💚RANPO💚
He doesn't know how, but you were in his apartment and you were both on the bed. You were on top of him and riding him in a desperate way. His head fell all the way back, exposing his neck and Adams apple. His hands gripped your hips and digging his nails into your skin. His moans were loud but his whimpers showed desperation and how much pleasure he was feeling.
Your moans only made him tremble and closer to his release. "So amazing~ ah~! you feel amazing~!" You moaned
"I cant get enough of you~ mmn~! J-just like that, y/n~!" You suddenly jumped on his cock more quickly and rough. Pure ecstacy flowed throughout his body. You moaned louder and tightened more around him. "Y-y-yes~ ah~! don't stop~! I-im- gonna c-c-cum~!" He whimpered loudly
"Me too~! Mmn~ This feels so good~!" You moaned
His cock couldn't handle the pleasure of being around your walls anymore and came inside you. He arched his back and whimpered loudly. You did the same and came with him. His whole mind went blank for a couple of seconds. His breathing was shallow and his heart rate was quick. He suddenly woke up. It was morning and he was exhausted. He was beginning to move around, but felt something sticky in his pants. He looked down and saw the mess he made while he was asleep. He then remembered the dream he had of you and blushed.
He felt gross, not because of having a lewd dream but because of the gross feeling he made in his pants.He cleaned himself up and put on clean clothes to go to work. He was sitting at his desk and couldn't do anything besides think of you and eat his snacks. He stared blankly at his desk until you randomly threw some candy on his desk and slightly startled him.
"Thought you would like them" you simply said and gave him a smile
He looked at the candy and smiles "ooo~ someone's been thinking about me" he teases as he looks at you
"If anything, it looked like YOU were thinking about something or someone" you tilt your head at him "what were you thinking about?" You asked
He blushed since he couldn't tell you the truth. He began to whine "I'm simply bored!" He made an excuse
"That doesn't answer my question-" your sentence was cut off as he fake snores
You sighed and dead panned, but you just ruffled his hair and went back to your desk. When you ruffled his hair, he slightly leaned more into your touch. After the dream, he wanted to feel more of your touch. He wanted a real touch from you and not by some dream that his unconscious made for him. Before you left completely, he stopped fake snoring and said "give me a head scratch, y/n. That felt nice" he made another excuse
You chuckled "I'm guessing you haven't washed your hair and there's just a bunch of dandruff in it" you teased
He looked offended as you giggled at him "what are you talking about? Look at YOUR hair" he teased back
Now you looked offended "your hair is greasier than mine" you began to laugh
He smirked at you "you know that's not true. Compared to yours that is" he put his hands behind his head and laughed
You gave him an offended look, but he knew If he wanted you to scratch his head he'd have to apologize "I'm just kidding, y/n, but please scratch my head for the world's greatest detective" he smiled at you
You rolled your eyes playfully and smiled "just for a bit"
you began to scratch his head. He had a soft smile on his lips and sighed softly. He loved your touch. He felt at ease and comfortable when you did. You stopped scratching his head "now get to work" you smiled and walked away
He sighed and laid his head on the desk as if he was tired and bored, but he just didn't know what to do with himself besides just think about you, but he smiled to himself softly. Hes never felt so disappointed yet relaxed and happy. He didn't like this feeling, but for some reason, he couldn't help but think it also felt nice.
💜FYODOR💜
It was in the middle of the night. You sat on his desk with your legs spread apart and he was in-between them. His cock was feeling your tight, wet walls for the first time. His legs were slightly trembling. His body only felt immense pleasure. He fought the urge to cum by closing his eyes and focus on something else just for a few seconds. He gripped so harshly on your hips that he'd probably leave bruises there. You moaned softly while gripping onto his shoulders. Your hand was clenching his hair. He moaned softly as well
"amazing- ah~ oh, lyubov~" he had a soft smile on his face.
He loved seeing how good he was making you feel. He loved how you were both one. He loved this moment. "So good~ faster, Fyodor~" you moaned in a pleading way
He pressed his forehead against yours and chuckled softly. His pace became faster and you both moaned louder. Your walls tightened and twitched around his cock. He was deep inside you and hitting all the right places. You arched your back as he kissed your neck "so beautiful~ your mine now, love~" he moans against your skin
"I-im- going to- c-cum~!" You moaned
"Me too, love~ ngh~ don't hold back~" He went faster and just as he was about to cum, he wakes up while breathing heavily. He cums in his pants as he gasps. He closed his eyes and felt the ecstacy go throughout his body. When he finished, he was panting heavily and slowly remembered the dream. He sighed from slightly being disappointed in himself. He got up and out of bed. He realized it was 3 am and decided to go take a cold shower.
It was morning now. He was working on his monitors and you saw him. He seemed to be focused as you walked towards him. "Good morning, Fedya"
He realized that you were there and looked at you with his normal calm face "good morning, y/n" he looked at you as you walked towards him
"Have you been working all night again?" You sigh slightly disappointed in him as you begin to sit on his desk
He noticed you sitting on his desk and remembered that that's where you were sitting when he dreamed of you last night, but he ignored it "I couldn't sleep"
You hum in response, understanding his reason, but you smirk "were you dreaming about me weren't you?" You joke
His eyes widen slightly but he decided to joke along too "wouldn't you like to know" he teases
You chuckle "how rude, and I was going to make you breakfast, but I guess you don't deserve it" you get off the desk
He chuckles "I'd appreciate it if you did"
You sigh to pretend your annoyed "I guess I will" but before you left you kept looking at Fyodor's face.
You noticed how tired he look and he looked back at you He didn't say anything but was curious as to why you were staring at him. You tilted Fyodor's chin up slightly to get a better look at him. He looked at you with a slight surprised look. "you need some sleep, Fedya. After you eat, go sleep" you told him softly. You just cared about his health
You walked away and left him slightly Flustered. He smiled to himself softly . He loved your touch and how you cared about him. It seemed like this crush wasn't going to die down any time soon.
💙ATSUSHI 💙
You were underneath him. Your hands were on his back and his forehead was on your shoulder. His hands struggled to hold himself up from the overwhelming pleasure. He moaned loudly but so were you. Your moans were beautiful. It was a way of you telling him that he was doing a good job at satisfying you. Your skin was soft and your body was perfect just like you. Your walls made him unable to think about anything else besides you. His pace was fast but gentle. Your legs were wrapped around his hips to feel him deeper inside you. Every touch you made on his skin was just pure pleasure to him because he was sensitive.
"Your so beautiful~ mmn~! how did I get so lucky?" He whimpered
You put a hand on the back of his head "this feels good~ ngh~ don't stop~" you moaned
His pace became faster and a bit rougher. He wanted to treat you gently and give you a perfect experience. You arched your back slightly and scratched his back gently. You kissed his neck and shoulders lovingly as if you truly admired him and his body.
"Your doing good~ mmn~ just like that, Atsushi~" you moaned against his skin He gasps slightly
"Your so perfect~ ah~ i- can't hold on anymore~" he whimpered
"Me too~ ah~ don't stop~" you pleaded
His thrusts became faster. The pleasure was unbearable for him now as he lost his limit and came and you soon came with him. Your body's were trembling and your hearts were pounding. You moaned loudly and he was in pure ecstacy.
He opened his eyes and was sweaty. He saw it was morning, but he felt gross and sticky. He looked down and saw a wet stain in his pants and immediately remembered the dream. He felt disappointed and embarrassed. He quickly got up and changed and put his dirty clothes in a washing machine. He even took a quick shower to clean himself before work.
He made it to work and started to do some papers on his desk. He noticed that you weren't there yet. After a couple of minutes he heard "good morning, Atsushi" you smile at him
He jumps at bit and blushes slightly "o-oh g-good morning, y/n" he stutters
He couldn't even look at you, but you didn't pay much attention to that. You noticed how red Atsushi was and got concerned for him "are you alright, Atsushi? Your cheeks are red" you tilted your head
He couldn't be blushing because you did literally nothing, right? He blushed more and looked at you "u-uh yes! I promise you I'm ok" he stammered a bit and afraid he was gonna make it obvious
"Are you sure? Do you have a fever?" You gently put your hand on his forehead to feel his temperature Your touch made him blush even more
"i-i I'm sure, thank you!" He grabbed your hand and placed it on the desk. He still didn't make any eye contact with you
"did I do something wrong?" You asked worried
He looked at you shocked. He was finally making eye contact with you "n-no! It's just- i- " he looked away for a second "I've just been ... Stressed" he made a small excuse
You looked at him with a bit of worry "then...let's go out after work. You deserve to have your mind free of whatever makes you stressed...if that's ok" you asked
He looked at you and blushed. You seemed to really care about him "i- I'd love to" he smiled softly
"We can buy some tea on rice. You love those right?" You smiled back
He looked at you with so much appreciation. How did you remember that he loved tea on rice? He gave you a warm smile "I'd love that" He loved how you appreciate him, notice his abilities, and comfort him when he can't do so himself. He can't thank you enough for everything you've done and made him feel. He really does like you
🧡CHUUYA🧡
You were both in his apartment a d on his bed. You were on top of him and jumping in his cock. His head was on the pillow and his back slightly arched. His eyes were closed and a small smile was on his lips as he moaned. You were finally where he wanted you to be and you seemed to be made for him. His hands rested on your thighs. Your hands were on his chest to keep yourself balanced. Your moans were so beautiful and such a turn on for him. He couldn't stop looking down at where you two are connected and how well he fits inside you. Everything is perfect.
"God, your so beautiful~ ngh~ I've been waiting for this for so long~" he groans
You chuckle softly "I've been waiting for you too~ ah~ this feels amazing~" you moaned as your pace became quicker
He suddenly flipped you over and got on top of you. He kissed your neck and started pounded into you. You gasp a moan and clawed his back. He thought you were so cute like this. He couldn't hold back anymore. He couldn't handle your tight walls anymore
"F-fuck~! I'm gonna cum~ y/n, I can't~" he groans as he struggles to hold on a little longer
"Im at my limit too~ mmn~ t-too good~!" You moaned
After a few more thrusts, he came inside you. His body was overwhelmed by peak pleasure and his arms were trembling. You came with him and both moaned loudly. He woke up in his bed slightly sweaty and hot. He felt sticky and wet in his pants. He looked under his blanket to see a wet spot on them. He felt disgusted yet disappointed, but only because he wished the dream was real. He went to clean himself and went to work.
You and him were partners for a mission Mori sent you both on and he seemed a bit more extreme. He seemed more pissed off and annoyed at the thugs you two had to deal with. He basically beat the shit out of them in less than a second and seemed to be in a rush when there was no need to be. He couldn't even look at you in the eye, hell, even in the morning he seemed to not necessarily ignore you, but he seemed to have something in his mind.
After the mission you finally spoke up. You were walking beside him "Is there something bothering you, Chuuya?" You asked with concern in your tone
He jumped a bit when you finally spoke, but he just sighed "yeah, is it that noticable?" He was honest
You giggled softly "You just seem more pissed off than usual today"
He looked at you confused "what does that mean?"
You laughed "well, whats been on your mind?" You asked curiously
He blushed and looked away from you "nothing important"
You rolled your eyes, not believing his words. You threw small punches on his shoulder "your lying" you whined slightly
He scoffed and rolled his eyes "well, I was just pissed because I wanted something to be real but it wasn't"
You didn't exactly get what he was saying "what do you mean?"
He stopped walking "you know when you want something but your too afraid to reach for it?" He asked softly while looking ahead of him and then looked at you. His eyes were soft and kind
You blushed slightly and thought about his words "I know exactly how you feel"
He blushed a little more. The way you looked at him made him think you were so cute. He looked away from you and you chuckled softly
You nudged him gently with your elbow "let's go out to drink! It's all on me" you wink at him playfully with a smile
He laughed a bit "alright, if you insist"
He would never admit it but he liked it when you nudged him or punched him gently. He always thought it was cute and he didn't mind the physical contact either. He realized it was a bit cold outside since the sun was setting and you didn't have a jacket or long sleeve. You were hugging yourself to try to warm up your body, but he then puts his jacket around your shoulders. You looked at him blushing.
He was blushing slightly while looking away "you idiot, why didn't you bring a coat?"
You laughed a little "thank you, in fact, good luck getting this back" you teased and smiled brightly
You two were bickering after that, but he loved these kinds of moments. He seemed happy with where his relationship with you is at, at the moment, but he hopes it soon becomes more.
💛SIGMA💛
You were both in the sky casino inside his office. You were sitting on top of his desk and he was pounding into you. Your foreheads were pressed against each other. He was panting and softly moaning and so were you. His eyes were closed as he was trying to focus more of the pleasure of your wet, tight walls and how it stroked his cock way better than he expected.Your arms were wrapped around him and his were on your hips. Your legs wrapped around his to push him deeper inside you and to keep him closer. He then put his hands on his desk and began to scrape the wood with his nails, leaving scratch marks on it.
He then suddenly began to kiss your neck and collarbone "God, your so perfect~ mmn~ I want this to last forever~" he moans against your skin
You held the back of his head "it can, Sigma~ mmn~ your mine and I'm yours~" you moaned
His thrusts became rough and fast. His hips hitting against yours and making a loud clapping sound. You both moaned louder and gripped onto each other more harshly. He decided to kiss your lips passionately as he thrusts quickly. He was at him limit and he could tell that you were too. Your moans were muffled by the kiss, but they were getting louder and louder. After a few more seconds, you both came together.
He then abruptly wakes up from his dream. He feels a wave of pleasure come over him and clenches his hands against the sheets. It felt like heaven and pure bliss. He groans deeply and breaths heavily. After his orgasm, his mind was only thinking about the dream. He felt disgusted with himself in more ways than one. He also didn't like that he had to change his clothes and clean himself up. He felt sweaty and tired from the intense climax and decided to get out of bed to deal with the mess he made.
It was finally morning and you noticed that Sigma seemed to be ignoring you. He doesn't want to but he can't even look at you in the eye without his body having a reaction whenever he does. He would have a hint of blush on his cheeks whenever he saw you and walked the other way. By the end of the day, you decided to go to his office and confront him. It wasn't out of the norm to just randomly walk into his office to chat with him since you were both just that close to eachother.
You walked into the office and saw him look immediately uncomfortable when he saw you "u-um what are you doing here? You can't be here I'm really busy-" he says slightly panicking
You ignored his words and just spoke up "did I do something wrong? If I did please tell me" you asked worried and nervously
He looked at you surprised, but then he looked away with embarrassment. He looked away "n-no, you didn't do anything wrong" he says softly
"Then why have you been ignoring me?" You were genuinely asking
He looks at you surprised again and then just sighs "I just- I didn't want to-" he couldn't make up an excuse, but then he saw you and you seemed really devastated.
He then gets up towards you and grabs your hands gently "I promise you, I'm not mad at you and you did nothing wrong...I'm sorry, for making you worry" he sounds genuine
He stared at your hands while he said these words but then finally gained confidence to look into your eyes. He blushed more, but he wanted you to believe his words. You blushed and then looked at your hands that were being held by his.
He then quickly let go of them "s-sorry, I shouldn't have done that" he scratches the back of his head and looks away
you smiled and scoffed "it's fine, I didn't mind" He looks at you with blushed cheeks.
You looked back at him for a few seconds but then quickly looked annoyed and kicked his leg gently, but still make him wince in pain "don't scare me like that, idiot. I thought I did something to hurt you and you just wanted to ignore me. Just tell me you don't like me"
He widen his eyes "n-no! That's not it! I really like you- I mean- not like that, but you know what i mean-" he sighs deeply trying to calm down "I'll make it up to you" he said calmly and seriously
You punched his shoulder gently "you better. You got me scared for nothing"
He sighs in a relaxed manner "of course, I'm sorry again "
You smiled softly "just.. don't do it again"He smiled back at you.
He liked thought you didn't mind touching his hands and that you seem to genuinely care about the friendship you two have. He hopes one day he can actually call you his
#bungo stray dogs#bsd fyodor#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd chuuya#bsd ranpo#bsd smut#bungo stray dogs dazai#fyodor dostoevsky#bsd atsushi#Bsd Dazai#Bungou stray dogs smut#Dazai x reader#Dazai smut#Ranpo smut#atsushi smut#bsd sigma#Sigma Smut#Chuuya smut#Fyodor smut#bad headcanons#bsd imagines#BSD#chuuya x reader#sigma x reader#atsushi x reader#ranpo x reader#fyodor x reader#fyodor x y/n#fyodor x you
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Aim for the Sky Part 32 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You're struggling through your pregnancy, trying to stay calm as your worries about Bradley grow as quickly as the baby. Bradley wants to put his best foot forward at work, making himself available for office hours, but maybe he's made himself too accessible.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealous
Length: 3400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Bradley's new office was coming along nicely. Everything was standard issue Navy grade, but he started adding some touches here and there to make it look more personal. The file cabinet was covered in ultrasound photos, one column of Rosie and one of her younger sibling.
He glanced at the wedding photo on his desk before adjusting it and wincing. You were still mad this morning that he overdid it at the Hard Deck last night, but he wished you would just let it go. It's not like he drove home drunk or anything. Nat and the guys were just excited to learn he was going to have another kid. The drinks just kept coming.
There was a knock on the door, and then Maverick poked his head inside. "You have a minute?"
"Yeah," Bradley replied, waving him inside. "It's not like I can tell you no. You're my commanding officer, Mav."
The older man chuckled, setting some folders on the desk. "I need you to keep all of the forms updated for each of the pilots. It's best if you work on it every day and then update the hard copies. You should have time to do this between visits during your office hours."
Today was the first time Bradley was holding office hours, and honestly he felt a bit like a college professor: the aviators were kind of his students, and he was responsible for making sure they were prepared to fly.
"Not sure how busy my office hours will be," Bradley muttered. He should probably send a text to remind you he'd be home a little later than usual tonight. While he didn't want to make a habit of missing dinner with his girls, this was a far cry better than being deployed.
"You might be surprised," Maverick replied with a smile as he backed toward the door. "You've got a lot to show the others, Lieutenant Commander."
Then he was gone, and Bradley could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks. He just wanted to prove himself, but the first time someone had him up against the wall, scrambling for an answer, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He'd only started to advertise his extra hours during today's lecture, so it would probably be another week or so until someone came to him for any sort of guidance on a Monday evening. But he would try to be ready.
He was just opening one of the folders from Maverick when there was another knock on his door. This time when he looked up, he was met with a flight suit complete with a Golden Warriors patch identical to the one he wore. That would have been enough to let him know it was Indigo, but then he met her eyes as he stood up behind his desk.
"Lieutenant Jeffries," he greeted with a smile as she strode inside. "How can I help you?"
She studied his face with a knowing look for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile of her own. "Sir, I can think of so many ways you could help me. It's not even funny."
Bradley blinked, brow furrowed as he examined her. "Well, why don't you start with an easy one? It's been a long day. And something tells me you might be regretting the late start you got at the Hard Deck last night."
Her laughter filled the room. "I could never regret finding the officer hangout before the rest of my peers from Texas. I need to keep the edge I have over Rex and Spice." When she started to close the door, Bradley frowned.
"Keep it open," he said casually, reaching out to catch it before it shut. He didn't want anyone thinking he was playing favorites, and the little pout on Indigo's lips convinced him she wanted to be his favorite aviator. But she didn't argue. She simply sat down on the edge of the couch and looked up at him.
"The easiest way you can help me is by telling me where I can improve," she said, fingers toying with the zipper at her neck. "I want to be the best you've ever seen."
------------------------------
You couldn't tell if Cat was actually annoyed with you or if she was just teasing, but you were too exhausted from a restless night to care.
"I can't believe Bradley told Jake you're pregnant before you told me yourself! I just saw you last night!"
Her gaze dipped down to your belly as you stood before her in the lab. You knew you were showing. There was no denying it now. You had a bunch of appointments coming up with Dr. Morris, and you were just going to keep getting bigger until you had to wear the maternity tent again. You knew you were already huge and that you'd probably never be your normal size ever again. And the last thing you wanted was Cat Coleman of all people scrutinizing your appearance when she always looked pristine.
Everything was made worse by Bradley's interactions with Indigo. She was everywhere on base, but now she had taken over your bar, too. You saw her this morning but managed to duck out of the way before those piercing eyes landed on you. She knew what you looked like now, and Cat's gaze lingering on your belly was doing nothing to give you a boost of confidence.
"Please make sure you're eating and drinking enough," she told you. "We don't want another repeat of Annapolis where you could barely give a presentation. Or a repeat of the day you fell at work."
You gritted your teeth. "This pregnancy doesn't even feel like my last one. Okay? I'm eating just fine. Too well, actually."
You turned on your heel, boot squeaking on the floor and headed out to collect Rose from daycare. Everything was just a reminder of your size right now. Visions of candy bars danced in your head as you told yourself you'd go home and eat a sensible dinner while Bradley held his office hours. But you already knew... you just knew Indigo would squeeze her way in there with her pretty eyes and her perky tits. And your husband seemed to be oblivious to her. At least you'd tried to convince yourself he wasn't actively looking. But you knew she found him attractive. You could smell it on her a mile away.
Tears filled your eyes as you approached the daycare facility. If he was looking at her, you couldn't blame him. Indigo was beautiful, her body stunning even in her flight suit. Meanwhile you looked like an exhausted, lumpy, khaki-covered potato with acne and zero energy.
"Let's go home," you whispered to Rose, trying to smile at the daycare staff as you pushed her out in her stroller.
You were absolutely fine. You were totally fine. Or at least you would be. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.
But all week long, you heard the same collection of call signs spilling from Bradley's lips, and Indigo's was always the first one. She was the fastest, most cunning, smartest, most decisive pilot he'd ever flown with. Any time you asked him a question about work, she was the answer. And he was late coming home almost every day.
"Hey, Sweetheart. Sorry, I had to stay in the infirmary with Spice after she strained her shoulder," he said, rushing inside on Friday night as you made dinner. "She couldn't even raise her arm to get her helmet off."
He kissed your cheek, letting his hand rest on your belly for a beat before he ended up on the floor next to Rose's play mat where she was trying her hardest to crawl to Tramp. As soon as Bradley showed up, she changed her mind and tried to get to him instead.
You pressed your lips together as you turned off the stove burner. "Did anyone else stay with you and Spice?"
"Yeah, Indigo hung out," he replied easily, brushing his fingers along Rose's hair with a smile. You swallowed hard, watching him on his hands and knees in his khaki uniform. He looked so good. Like ridiculously good. Broad shoulders and big biceps and a handsome smile.
"Why am I not surprised?" you muttered, turning away from him.
"I think they're friends," he said. "It's kind of amusing getting to experience the love and hate dynamics amongst the group. The women tend to stick together on the ground, but anything goes in the air."
Your stomach ached with hunger pangs, and the only thing you wanted to eat was ice cream. When you realized you'd eaten a frozen burrito barely an hour ago, you desperately wanted to go to bed hungry, but you started to feel guilty about the baby.
"My parents listed their house today," you announced, trying to change the subject before you started to cry.
"Did you hear that, Nugget?" Bradley scooped Rose up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen where you were plating two meals. "Your grandparents are moving here to spend more time with you. And next summer, we'll take you and your little brother or sister back to Virginia to see where ol' Goose and Carole used to live, okay?"
He peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling wildly, and every negative thought started to get fuzzy around the edges. When his brown eyes met yours, you nodded toward the table, and his arm slipped around your waist.
-----------------------------
Bradley came home from his office hours on Monday to find you wearing only his old UVA shirt. The soft cotton was hugging your bump and showing off your legs, and he was ready to get on his knees and beg for you.
After he put Rose in her crib for the night, he met you in bed where you were wearing your glasses, your face freshly scrubbed. He was plainly getting hard in his gym shorts the more he looked at you. It was so obvious. When you stood on your knees and coaxed him closer with your finger, he met you there.
"I hope you know how good you have it, Roo," you whispered against his lips.
He knew. He knew all about it. He let his hand slide down over your belly, keeping you in place when you tried to scoot away. Then his fingers slowly yanked up the hem of his shirt until he was touching your pussy.
"Of course I know it, Baby Girl." He circled your clit with his middle finger before slipping it inside you. "I've got my Rosie. And my hot, pregnant wife with her perfect pussy." When you whimpered, he kissed your nose. "I've got it all."
You dragged the shirt up over your belly and chest, tossing it aside. For a beat, Bradley went completely dizzy at the sight of your tits. Then you made everything better by placing your hands on your breasts, working them until beads of milk appeared. Your head was tipped back, pussy squeezing his middle finger, and Bradley almost lost his mind.
His kisses were rough. He knew it. But you were whining Roo as he got undressed, and then you were guiding his lips to your tits. He had to have it dirty. His cock was so fucking hard, he needed to make you scream.
"Oh, fuck," he growled as his lips grazed your nipple, lapping up your milk until he thought he was going to pass out. Every inch of your body was so sweet and supple, but he wanted you babbling and begging.
Bradley meticulously cleaned you up until you were clinging onto him, then he pushed you onto your back. Without hesitation, he started fucking you. When you needed a hand over your mouth to keep from waking Rose, he was all too happy to help. When you spread your legs wider, he watched his cock glide inside your welcoming body over and over again until he felt his orgasm in his balls.
"Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, waiting until you nodded against his palm to lose himself. Hips thrusting, filling you with shallow strokes, he fucked you until your pussy was dripping. He watched the mess he made dribble down your ass before catching it with his fingertips. "I swear I don't think I can keep my cock out of you long enough for you to not be pregnant ever again."
You snorted before reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips. "After this one, I'm going right back on the pill. No more slip ups," you whispered. Bradley watched as your tongue darted out, licking his sticky cum and swallowing every drop.
"No more slip ups," he echoed, smiling at your belly. He'd never consider this a mistake. Not in a million years. A surprise? Absolutely. But not a mistake.
Bradley's phone lit up where it had been discarded on the floor when you slipped into the bathroom. He had a text from an unknown number with a Virginia area code. At first, he thought it might be his cousin Brenda letting him know she had a new phone number, but when he opened the message, his brow creased in confusion at first.
Lieutenant Commander, thanks for spending so much time with me today in your office today.
Only three people had been in his office with him earlier. One was Maverick. One was Forrest who he had to reprimand. The third was Indigo. Bradley hadn't been giving out this number, but it was readily available if anyone wanted to look through the registry in the lobby of the building where his small office was housed.
He scratched the rough stubble along his jaw, contemplating if he should respond after nine in the evening. He saved her number under her call sign and tossed his phone on the bed when you walked back in with a smile on your face. He should wait until the morning to respond if at all.
You yawned when he passed you. "I'm ready for bed, Roo."
"Give me a minute to brush my teeth, and I'm right behind you."
---------------------------
By the end of the week, your parents had two offers on the house where you were raised. They were officially downsizing to a cute bungalow a few streets over in Coronado, and you were excited. Or you wanted to be.
But every time you let your heart fill with happiness over your parents or the baby, you remembered that Indigo was texting your husband. You saw it for yourself. Right after he fucked you so good, you could barely walk, you glanced down at his phone on your bed. He had her number saved in his phone, and you wanted to cry.
You could ask him for permission to look at his phone. You could see what his reaction was. That would give you a good gauge of what exactly was going on between them. But Bradley had never once asked you to hand your phone over to him. He'd ever insinuated that there would be a reason he didn't trust you.
Unsure what else to do, you sat in your office during your lunch break and cried. The tears were hot and miserable on your cheeks, and a headache instantly started brewing behind your eyes. It took you almost ten minutes to get yourself under control, and by then you didn't even feel like going to the cafeteria for food.
When someone knocked, you looked up at your door. Maybe it was Bradley. Maybe you could get his phone from him somehow and check it yourself. "Come in," you called, voice soft from all the tears you'd shed. Instead of your husband, Jake strolled inside. "Did you get lost? Cat's probably in the lab."
"Aww, come on, Angel," he drawled, dropping down into your extra chair. "I came all the way up here to see you."
"Oh." You were a little surprised. Everyone was so busy as the last quarter of the year was beginning, you felt like you hadn't seen much of him.
"Why do you look so sad?" he asked, already leaning forward to stand again. "Want me to grab you and the baby something to eat and bring it up here?"
"No," you told him quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little stressed." You tried to smile, but you felt like you could cry again. "Are you having a slow day?"
"Nah." He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just had to get away from your annoying husband and his band of misfits clogging up the comms with their exercises."
"Band of misfits?" you asked with a soft laugh.
"Bunch of children," he replied with an eye roll. "Look like they just graduated from high school." His eyes went wide. "Oh shit, that probably means I look old now."
"You don't look too bad for someone older than me," you promised with a smirk. "Hey, do you know anything about any of those new pilots?"
"I know they like to hog the line in the cafeteria. One of them took the last slice of pizza yesterday, and I had to wait for a new pie to finish baking. Food should be based on seniority. I outrank all of them."
You were laughing at his smile now. "Hey, maybe I should get something to eat. And it might be nice to get out of my office for a few minutes."
"I'll walk you down." Jake stood and helped you to your feet. "Can't hang out too long though. Mav has a fire under his ass about getting Phoenix, Bob and I in the air this afternoon."
You headed to the cafeteria with Jake, getting a chance to hear his side of the wedding plans after listening to Cat for weeks. They wanted something small and simple, but he assured you there would be room for the Bradshaws on the guest list. Once you had a tray piled high with a salad, breadsticks and once slice of pizza, you took a seat while Jake headed back out to the tarmac to get back to work.
Your lunch tasted incredible. The cheese from the pizza was practically melting in your mouth. When the cafeteria started clearing out, there were only a few tables occupied, and you started stacking the plates on your tray. You could have a calm, reasonable conversation with your husband. He'd let you look at his phone, and everything would be fine.
"Okay, but what's up with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"
Your eyes darted up from your tray to find two officers sitting a short distance away. The one facing you had a patch on her flight suit that said SPICE, and you recognized her call sign from conversations with Bradley.
"He's hot, but he's wearing a wedding band," she added.
You swore your heart stopped at her words. Then you realized that the woman with her back to you was Indigo. Her jet black hair was wound up in a tight bun that accentuated her long neck even from behind, and her laughter set your teeth on edge.
"I already told you," she said, and you had to stop breathing to make sure you heard every word. "His wife is a civvy. I saw her at the bar the only night he showed up. They have one kid, and apparently she's pregnant again. At least that's what I heard Lieutenant Trace saying."
"What does his wife look like?" Spice asked, casually taking a sip of her drink as if your world wasn't crumbling to pieces.
"It was hard to tell in the dark, but her face seemed okay. Nice-ish body, but come on..." Indigo gestured to herself. "The man's only human, and his wife is definitely older than me. That much is easy to tell. And she'll be huge again soon."
You tried to get up from your seat quickly, fighting with yourself to get out of the room, but it was too late. Both of them were standing now, still chatting as Indigo turned your way. As soon as her eyes landed on your face, you saw them widen. That pretty blue color looked terrifying as a smile of recognition spread across her lips.
Indigo absolutely knew who you were now. Her eyes dipped down to the hyphenated name pinned against your chest, and now she knew you weren't a random civilian. She knew you were an officer who worked on North Island. She knew way too much as she took in every inch of your body. And she looked really pleased by what she saw.
-----------------------------
He has his sweet moments, but Roo doesn't see the bigger picture here. Next chapter will reveal if Rose is going to have a brother or a sister. Any guesses? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 33
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The hear me out cake.
It has been, for the past month, a famous trend on Tik Tok.
And today, it has proven to be the bane of your existence.
"Tsumu, please" You tried to open the door, but it was locked
"No! Don't look at me! I'm too ugly! Hideous!"
"No you're not!" You sighed audibly
"Quit decieving me! I know I am!"
This has been going on for hours now. And you don't know how to put an end to it.
It all started when you were both just chilling on the couch this morning, right after you woke up from a movie night. Atsumu's head was on your chest as he looked over at your phone, watching videos with you as you scrolled through the endless abyss of Tik Tok.
Everything was going fine: with one of your hands massaging his blond locks and the other holding your phone up, he was really starting to get sleepy. This week of training was harsh, after all. This was all he needed: a relaxing weekend with the love of his life.
It was all going fine. Really.
Until it wasn't. Until that damned video appeared on your "for you" page.
"Our hear me out cake!"
Two girl, probably barely above 16, said together while smiling at the camera. A big chocolate cake was seen next to the camera, and they held printed images of characters and celebrities.
Both you and Atsumu already knew about the trend. You're both chronically online, after all. So, you decided to watch the video.
After a while, you were starting to get bored of it. You were going to scroll, but decided against it. You kept watching.
And damn it, you really should have skipped this video. You really should have. It would have spared you of a lot of suffering.
Because the next and last "Hear me out" the girls showed was...
"Atsumu Miya. The volleyball player"
"No way" one of them laughed "No way you're into him"
Oh oh. This is NOT good.
"HUH?" Atsumu jumped off of you, snatching the phone from your hands and rewinding the video to make sure he heard it right.
"Hey, Tsumu! Give me my phone back!" You said, trying to forcefully grab it back yet not managing to. You were no match for a literal athlete, afterall.
"Atsumu Miya. The volleyball player"
"No way. No way you're into--"
"Tsumu..."
"Atsumu Miya. The volleyball player"
"No way. No way--"
"Atsumu."
"Atsumu Miya. The volleyball player"
"No way--"
"Atsumu Miya."
"Atsumu Miya--"
"Atsumu Miya--"
"Atsumu Miya!"
You "stole" your phone back, glaring at him
"You can't just grab people's phone like that! It's disrespectful and..."
Just one look at him made you forget you were even angry at him before.
He looked utterly and undoubtdely heartbroken.
"Tsumu..."
"Be honest" he started, looking at the ground "Do you think I'm ugly? Am I a... hear me out?"
"God, Tsumu, no!" You hugged him tightly "You're beautiful, my love!"
"You don't need to lie to make me feel better!" He pushed you away and dramatically put his hand on his chest. "I know I look like a homeless guy who hasn't taken a shower for the last 3 weeks - no, years!"
"Tsumu, you know that's not true..." You tried to hug him again
"Don't come any closer!" He pushed your arms away "I'm going to isolate myself in my room so no one is infected by my uglyness!"
You would've been hurt if you didn't know your boyfriend.
He looked like a highschool girl who just got rejected by her crush right now, but all he needs is time to calm down. He'll get back to normal soon enough
Except he didn't.
And that's how you found yourself in the position you've been in for 2 endless hours: head against your shared bedroom's door and trying to convince Atsumu to open it.
"Tsumu, open the door, please" You sighed, sitting with your back against the door and waiting for a response, only to be met with silence
"Tsumu, you're not hideous" You heard footsteps approaching you.
"...really?" He said from across the door
Yes! It was working! He was actually listening to you now! You couldn't let this opportunity pass.
"Yes! You're one of the most - scratch that, the most handsome man I've ever met!" You got up, resting your hand against the door "You're beautiful inside and out, I love you and couldn't be prouder to have you as my lovely, amazing and beautiful boyfriend" You smiled, praying to God that this would do. You really just wanted to lay down and cuddle with him.
The door finally cracked open, but not entirely. You could only see one of his eyes peeking through the tiny opening he made
"Say that again" he said, eyes unblinking
"What?"
"Say that last part again" he looked at you, gaze so strong you felt weak "Please"
"I love you?? And I'm proud of having you as my boyfriend??"
"Why do you sound so full of doubt?!"
"I love you." You said, laughing a little "And I'm very proud to have you as my amazing boyfriend."
Maybe this worked! He'll finally open the--
Nevermind. The door was closed yet again.
Not again! What did you do wrong this time? Maybe it's because you were laughing? Well, you'll just have to try again--
"I LOVE YOU TOO!!" Atsumu said, opening the door and literally throwing himself at you.
"AHHH!"
It was so sudden that you crashed to the floor, with him on top of you and your lungs with little to no oxygen. You weren't sure how you were even breathing at this point.
"I love you!" Atsumu said again, resting his head against your boobs in a (hopefully) not perverted way.
"I love you too" you smiled, caressing his hair "Now, why don't we go watch a movie? I missed you! I didn't see you for 2 long, torturous hours!" You said, laughing a little
"Sure!" Atsumu answered, getting up. Then, like a kid who did (or rather, was planning to do) something naughty, he suddenly began to run away
"Where are you going?"
"I'm just going to write a little comment on that video!"
"ATSUMU, NO!" You got up and ran after him.
"ATSUMU YES!" He began to run faster.
You were not able to stop him in time. Again, he was an athlete, afterall.
His PR team had to deal with the media later.
Whatever. It's not like any of these people's opinions on him mattered anyway.
What matters is that you think he's handsome and funny and your lovely boyfriend. And he'll do his damn best to make sure that never changes.
~ I heard we have a new Atsumu fan here! Welcome @someprettyname!!
Masterlist
#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu#hq atsumu#haikyuu atsumu#atsumu x you#miya x reader#atsumu x y/n#atsumu x female reader#hq x reader#hq#hq fluff
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FRENZY ៸៸៸ part two
Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect.
៸៸៸ part one here ៸៸៸ you must read the first part in order to understand this one!
៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader
៸៸៸ minors dni
៸៸៸ wordcount: 14.2k
៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut
៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him.
៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.
៸៸៸ a/n: sorry again for the way i had to post this in two parts, still i hope it was worth the wait!
៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut
៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press, standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The next morning, you were late waking up to log into your work account but Jake was still there, drowsy and smiling at you from the moment you opened your eyes.
You briefly remember the early morning pouting he gave you, hard against you and lips all over you, and in turn you remember how you made a promise to yourself swiftly after rejecting his needs.
Your face heated up the second he said good morning to you, flustered over the fact that not only do you want him, but you want him to want you like that again, despite your rejection. After all, you let him sleep over, and he didn’t try to take advantage of you despite sporting an intense boner through the majority of it.
He sees the way your eyes check him out upon waking up too, but you stay silent after he gives you his good morning greeting.
“Are you hungry? I can step out and pick up some breakfast so you can work.” He offers, stretching his arms out wide and tapping you to stand up. “I’m staying again today.”
Your eyes widen at him, but the smile on your face betrays that little red flag in your head that has forced you, up to this point, to struggle to give him what he needs.
“I’d like that.” You nod to him, cheeks permanently warmed at the image of your shining boyfriend. “Sorry about last night.” You blurt now, standing up and stretching yourself.
“It’s fine love, it's just hard to keep my hands to myself sometimes.” He says, intensely watching your reaction.
You lend a pause in your stretch at those words, having heard them before when your ex did things that made your body ache for weeks. There is a pull in your gut hearing him say that before you remind yourself that they’re just words. He just really likes you, and he did stop when you told him to.
He is not your ex.
“I wouldn’t have hurt you though,” He continues, seeing you deep in thought in front of him. “If you’d have let me, I mean.”
“Jake I–” You stop yourself, feeling a flood of words on the tip of your tongue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You confirm, now moving forward to hug against him. “I would have–”
“You would?” His eyes light up, smile brighter than you’ve ever seen before.
“No, I mean,” You stutter in panic, hugging him tighter. “I would have touched you if you asked.”
His eyes go dark instantly, making his smile seem more eerie than anything as you look up at him.
“I’m okay with doing the touching, we can work our way up to the other stuff…maybe? If that’s okay?”
“Oh, baby, that’s more than okay.” He coos out, now losing his appetite for actual food and wanting nothing more than to show you just how good he could really be for you. His arms hug you tightly before releasing you, and he ushers you across the room. “We can talk about this later though, you’re already late, right?”
You nod, feeling a bit better about initially rejecting him and doing just that, moving to the small nook that holds your desk and PC and listening to him slip his shoes on.
“I’m going to grab breakfast, and I’m gonna stop by my place to grab some clothes.”
He leaves before you can answer, which is nice because part of you didn’t want to hear your own voice accepting that.
Accepting that he’s leaving right now, accepting that he’s coming back to stay another night, accepting that you feel perfectly fine with all of this despite your inner demon advising you to run.
You don’t know who you are in this moment, but what you do know is that you’re safe. That’s what’s driving you to act blatantly against what your own brain is telling you.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re clinging and Jake is fucking devoted to the feeling of it.
Devoted to the way your fingers, so much smaller than his own, grab him to kiss him. Devoted to the way you kiss the bruise above his brow, and the way you ask him to stay for another night, and another, and another, up until he finds himself doing his and your laundry together just so he doesn’t have to go back home to grab more clothes to rotate through.
It’s been a week since he’s been in your apartment, rolling around on your bed with you in it, cleaning himself in your shower, washing himself with your soap. It’s like only the two of you exist in this space, where he is the only one to step out and see the sun, solely so you don’t have to.
Or, solely so you can’t. He doesn’t think he’d let you at this point, now that you’re his and you prove it with each kiss and hug. All you need to do is sit and look pretty, sit and love him. That’s what your purpose is in this relationship, he will do the rest.
Given, he’s also fucked his fist each second he can get in your bathroom. But goddamn do you cling. You whine when he separates himself from you even for a moment, and day by day he can see you come closer and closer to fulfilling his need to be loved by you entirely.
Your phone hasn’t received any unsavory messages you’ve noticed as well, they haven’t needed you to come into the office, and all you can manage to think is that…you’re in love with being in this apartment with him.
Only good things happen when Jake is with you and you’re growing so attached that you’ve thought more than once to just move him in with you. Your mother would scold you, your ex would kill you, and arguably, Jake would absolutely do it.
He waits on you hand and foot. Cooking, cleaning, doing your laundry, holding you and giving you some of the best sleep you’ve had in years. You refrain from considering it seriously though, because this relationship is still so new. You don’t want to freak him out or cause an uproar in your already fucked up and unsteady life. You’re throwing yourself in like you always do, but…is it so bad when he’s doing the exact same thing?
Until he’s not, anyway.
“Love,” Jake starts, tapping his chin with the tips of his fingers as he lounges on your bed. “I need to go home today.”
Your heart immediately sinks.
“What? Why?” You ask in a voice that plainly shows your panic.
“Well,” He taps on his chin again before moving his hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure my mailbox is probably full by now, I need to clean out my fridge, and I should probably check my course work.”
“You’re…in college?”
Jake nods with a snicker, laughing at how he’s given up his entire life for you.
“Yeah, probably won’t be soon though.” He laughs, shaking his hair out and then looking at you with big, rounded eyes. “Just for the day, I’ll be back before sunset.”
You look down in a disappointed way before nodding to him.
“Aww, babe. Don’t be like that–” He mock pouts as he turns to you, grabbing both of your cheeks and squishing them up, forcing your lips to pucker before landing a harsh kiss against them. “I’m coming right back, I promise.”
You nod again, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face.
“You’re so cute, it’s going to kill me one of these days.” He smiles back at you, hopping up and preparing himself to head back to his apartment.
What you don’t know is that, while Jake wasn’t lying and that he should at least clean out his fridge, he needed to go home.
He needs to unload the footage onto his computer, he needs to watch it back, he needs to fuck something.
And so, he does just that.
The second he gets back to his apartment, it’s almost uncomfortable. Unfamiliar scents, no warmth, rotting food in the fridge, neglected pillows and bed sheets.
Even so, it’s like he acts on instinct when he walks past everything he needs to do and lands himself at the window. His mind takes over in an instant.
It felt like so long ago when he first saw you from here, knowing you were the most beautiful, the perfect girl for him. Knowing you would love him too, and that you’d never want to leave him. He smiles at his victory, knowing that you’re sitting in that apartment right now thinking about him too. If he knew where he would be now, he thinks his former self may have very well fucked himself to death. After all, he’s felt you, tasted you, and even seen parts of you based on the little image he sent to himself from your phone. Everything happened better than he knew it would.
If it weren’t for your ex, perhaps you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment. Perhaps you wouldn’t have clinged to him so immediately.
In a way, he almost wants to thank the man before he eventually strangles the life out of him.
He’s tasted almost all of you by this point, and each moment it happened is trapped within the files of that little camera there. All of it, for him to remember. Each kiss and makeout session he made sure happened in the view of this camera, and so badly does he want to watch over and over again the moments where you gave in to him. The moments where you needed him.
He’s quick to push the camera to his pc, uploading a weeks worth of files before placing it back onto the window sill and immediately shoving his hand down his pants.
Jake shivers at the first unrestricted graze of his hand against his cock, eyebrows falling into that of probably one of the most pathetic faces he could ever make in his life. The relief is so good, so painful.
He can’t fucking help it. After jerking off multiple times a day before finding himself in your apartment with you, it’s hard to only do it once a day within a short time span of a few minutes. He felt so restricted in terms of his release, and he has so much cum to give right now. He’s aching for it. He wants to bleed it dry.
He wants you so bad at this point, seeing you dangle yourself in front of him and not yet give in to at least going down on him– he needs this. He needs it now.
Even if it’s not you touching him, he needs to release before he takes it from you. Before he does something stupid and makes you hate him forever. Before he really does become your ex. It felt like he was going insane in your apartment, surrounded by you, only wanting to fuck you, and still not getting to.
God, the footage is so grainy but it hits his cock so fucking fast. He memorized each moment as it happened, and now watching it in third person makes him feel as if he’s some sort of ghost. Like he’s having an out of body experience and can see and feel you in a completely different light.
In more ways than he already has, even.
He releases within thirty seconds, barely holding his cock when he doubles over at the footage of that very first, harsh kiss you gave him. Sensitive and twitching, his raging length spilled all in his pants, drenches them through even, as his body shakes with the need for more.
And as if it never happened, he takes a firmer hold of his cock now, fast forwarding the footage to each and every kiss, wondering how good those lips of yours would feel elsewhere on his body. How pretty your moans would sound for him, how cute your hand looked gripping your tit in that little nude of yours, how–
He comes again, forcing him to let out a choked sob and drop his head to his desk. God, it hurts. He’s so sensitive, and still, he wants you so bad. His dick is still raging, aching, and begging, especially when he thinks of how you’ve been clinging. How your hands have fucked yourself, and how badly he wants them to stay on him forever.
God he wishes your fingers could slice him open, leaving painful and love-filled reminders of not who you belong to, but of who he belongs to.
When he thinks of how he’s only doing this right now because you have your claws buried into him already, almost refusing to let him leave you, he knows he could come another four or five times within the next thirty minutes solely because you cling, and cling, and fucking cling. Fuck..
That’s so hot to him.
He’d let you cage him up in a heartbeat, he’d let you fuck his entire life up and then laugh at him for it. It’s what you deserve. To have a man willing to do anything for you, someone willing to give up everything just to hear you breathe, to have him be that person.
Third release, forcing him to hold his breath to the point of feeling faint.
The veins on his neck protrude, sweat now dripping down his brow.
It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts.
But it doesn’t hurt enough.
And all day he does this. Until the sun is telling him that he needs to go back to you, until his hair is drenched in sweat and his arm is sore. Until his body feels weak and his cock feels spent, raw, and still throbbing for more.
It hurts when he puts on a new pair of pants, hurts even more when he forces himself to squat in front of his fridge to clean it out, opting to toss everything into a bag rather than sifting through what’s good and what isn’t.
Now more than ever does he want you against him, knowing that he’s fucked himself half to death solely to keep himself from scaring you, and still he isn’t satisfied.
At this point, nothing will satisfy him but you. He knows this now.
He’s quick to lock up, even quicker to toss his trash, and finds himself inside of your lobby at a loss.
Goddamn his libido. Goddamn this love for you.
He can’t stop wanting you, and he can’t just fuck the need away himself at this point. He needs you to fuck his brain quiet, only you can satiate this horrifyingly deep hunger.
Waiting, watching, waiting, waiting, waiting.
He’s waited enough. He’s done waiting.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake appears at your door right on time, and you were expecting to see his smiling face and big stretched out arms to greet you as you open the door for him.
You didn’t get that though. In fact, you found yourself frozen with the door half open as you stared at your boyfriend and the way his terrifyingly small pupils looked back at you before instantly growing twice the size. So different from this morning, heaving, lips shaking, eyes darker than they’ve ever been.
Before you can even ask why he’s looking at you like that, you learn exactly why.
“I’m going fucking insane.” Jake says shortly in a hot whisper, stepping forward and slamming the door behind him. You feel his hands on you instantly, slipping under your shirt and grabbing your waist tightly. “Can’t be away from you, can’t be with you, I can’t stand it.”
You just listen, feeling him walk you into the living room, fluttering his lips all over your face and neck, only to press you up and against the window with his entire body pinning you there with a slam.
You’re shocked, unable to do anything but listen to him and feel the way his hands grip and search your entire body for something to hold onto.
“All fucking day,” Jake seethes out angrily, pulling back from you and grabbing your face to turn it. Almost pissed that you simply exist in front of him right now. “Right there.” He says, pointing directly to his apartment. “I sat right there trying to deal with this.” He presses his hips against you, letting you feel exactly what he’s talking about. “And still, I need more.”
Your brain goes numb. Or maybe it goes hot, you’re not sure. You’ve only recently realized that he turns you on beyond belief, it’s difficult to decipher the difference between horniness and fear right now.
“Jake–” You turn back to him, now using your own hands to grab his face, forcing his eyes to steady and look at you, as if to bring him back to reality. “Do you need–”
He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, hands running up just to press you harder against the window, his hips chasing whatever he can get from you. Like he’s using you in this moment, as if you’re not real and simply a doll for him to release against and inside of.
He’s fucking gone. Outside of himself, and you, and the universe as a whole.
“What I need,” He says, pulling back and stating in an almost demanding tone. “Is for you to take care of me.”
You knew this would come sooner or later, and you’d been trying to work up the courage to do it. You’ve run his patience dry, and you guess it’s now or never at this point.
“Just tell me.” You whisper submissively, wanting to give him whatever he needs solely so that he won’t leave you.
You see his expression soften within a split second, his hips release their pressure against you, and he pulls his hands back.
“Fuck.” He lets out apologetically, demeaning himself for losing his control and being so blatant. Pointing out his fucking apartment to you. “Baby, I’m sorry, I–”
You’ve already made your decision, understanding exactly why your boyfriend broke his composure. This past week proved enough to you that he wasn’t in it to fuck you, and even though his needs weren’t being met, he still worked hard to meet yours, you feel…
Yeah, you’re happy he did this. Even the force didn’t scare you entirely. The only thing that scares you is him leaving you over this. And he watches as you do it, sinking to your knees and reaching out to hook your fingers into the loops on his pants.
“Baby,” He warns you, feeling you pull him straight to you. “Wait, wait.”
You don’t, knowing that if you were to stop now you might end up talking yourself out of doing this again.
“No,” You shake your head, lifting on your knees just to rub your cheek against the length in his pants. “Let me take care of you, I’ve neglected you enough.”
God, he fucking buckles. Dropping right to his knees in front of you, pulling you in by the face, and kissing you as hard as he possibly can. His entire body quivers, bursting in a euphoric sense of arousal as the hairs rise on his body at the very image of you on your knees for him.
“You’re so good to me,” He mumbles through kissing you. “So, so good to me.”
And you just let yourself feel it. Intensely, to the point that even your stomach flips at knowing what’s about to happen.
Strangely enough, it flips in a good way. You haven’t felt like this in years, and it brings so much glee to you knowing that Jake is right here, willing to let you make him feel good. Willing to let you feel these things again, willing to make you feel good if you work up the courage to ask for it. And most of all, he’s staying.
“Stand up then.” You whisper in a smile. “I’ll take care of you, so don’t run back home to do it yourself anymore.”
Jake shakes his head with a smirk, happy to get what he not only wants at this moment, but what he so desperately needs.
“I did that for you, and look where it got me.” He says, standing and staring down at you. “Nothing will ever satisfy me, only you can.”
You chuckle shyly, reaching up to fumble with his button only to have him take over for you, dropping his pants and gripping himself.
“Don’t be so sure though.” You swallow around a lump in your throat at the size of him, proving why you were always able to feel it and not quite ignore it. “I don’t have a lot of practice with this.”
Oh, could you be any more perfect? Any more fucking endearing? With those pretty eyes staring down what he wants to put in you so bad, not even knowing how he’s only ever gotten this hard for you and you alone. Fuck, he could give it to you so good, he could fill you until you can’t breathe, he could keep you forever.
You look so pretty like this, with your lips trembling as you wet them, with the way your smaller hands swat him away as if to ask him to let you try and hold it yourself.
He could shoot his load right now if you asked him to, looking so fucking docile on the floor for him. He needs to look away, he needs to prepare for this.
“I don’t know if I can, um,” You start, gripping him and noting that he’s thick, there’s no way it will all fit in your mouth without absolutely suffocating you. “Jake, I genuinely don’t know if I can fit all of it.”
He lends you a short chuckle as he takes in a breath, his fingers going down to tip your chin up at him. You feel it pulse in your hand as he looks at you, almost feeling his quickened heartbeat through the vein that runs up the underside of it.
“Love, I don’t need it to fit.” He smiles, pressing it harder into your palm. “Even this is enough right now.” He lies, pressing his hips forward as if to show you that he’s lying.
He needs it to fit so bad.
You eye him down, feeling the twitch release a little dribble of precum that rolls down and onto your circled fist. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked at another person this way, wanting to taste it, almost needing to.
Rubbing your legs together, almost uncomfortably, you swallow again as you keep your eyes trained on his before glancing back down. You pull your hands back just to see the way it drops. God, it’s so heavy. You can imagine he’s full of resentment for how long it’s taken you to simply look at it. His cock rages at you, darkened in color and glistening in the light of the setting sun through the window.
All you can do is stare.
And all Jake can do is stare too, watching you do math in your head of what you need to do with him. He’d take anything, fucking anything, from you right now.
“Mm,” Jake hums for a moment, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tighter. “Like this.” He instructs.
“I know how to give a hand job, you know.” You roll your eyes playfully, despite totally forgetting how to do it now that, you know, you want to.
“Yeah, don’t tell me that.” He warns, annoyed that you’d even say that right now. “Just, grip me harder–” He closes his eyes, pretending that you’ve never touched a cock that wasn’t his own, noting how your hands have always been gentle with him, save for that day you dragged him around by the shirt in a kiss.
You listen, trying to grip the girth of it as tightly as you can while dragging your hand forward and back, forcing little grunts out of him.
“Yeah,baby–” he encourages you, “Just like that.” He continues to lose himself to the feeling in soft moans, blinking down and now moving his hips in your grasp, fucking forward a bit harder. “Use your other hand too..”
You listen intently, never having to use both hands on a man like this before. You try to squeeze him, offering as much pressure as you can as he swivels his hips forward and back, slicking your hands up nice and wet with his precum. Unbelievable how much he has, actually.
You look up when he lolls his head back in a drawn out moan, staring at the expanse of his neck and the way it tenses when he swallows around the same moan. And then, suddenly, in a split second he hangs his head back down and looks at you as if he can see everything you are, everything you ever have been, and everything you ever could be. You gasp at his expression, feeling totally lost and in awe when you see that gaze go dead as he stares back.
His lips fall slack when his hips pick up pace, essentially fucking your fists rather than letting you do the work. And when you glance away from him, tuning in to the consistent pre-cum spilling out of him, he sees you lick your lips.
He watches, he sees you want it.
So, very gently, he places one of his hands on the back of your head, encouraging you to do it. And it’s like he can taste colors when you let him and instantly wrap your lips around the big, swollen head of his leaking length.
The half-moan-half-amazed-chuckle that falls out of him only comes from the fact that you instantly stretch your lips around it, lapping at his tip in an almost hungry way.
“God, fuck–” He keeps his head hanging forward, watching intently as you take him further and further into your mouth, up until you release one hand and grasp his thigh to hold onto. “I’ve dreamed of this.” He admits, shocked that you’re really going to do this for him.
You blink up at him, trying to smile around the heavy length pressing your tongue down. If you’re going to do this, the least you can do is make sure he fucking loves it. Not to mention, the fact that you’re also enjoying it only drives you to do more. Like the wall inside of you has been shattered and nothing could ever stop you from wanting him in any and every way possible.
He smiles through a deep groan at the way your lips still curl around him.
Never in his fucking life did he imagine you smiling while sliding his cock down your throat. Really, you did that entirely on your own and somehow, he feels even more insane than he did walking into your apartment earlier.
You’re making it fit, and all he can do is help you, now bracing that same hand on your head and pressing further into your mouth..
More, more.
And when he feels your fingernails dig into his thigh and his cock hit the back of your gagging throat, he chokes out, eyes tearing up, and he sobs out your name in a desperate attempt to compliment you for it.
That sound alone from him went straight through you, igniting a long awaited arousal within your belly. You feel the drip, relishing in the feeling of being wet for the first time in fucking years. He’s so big, and he’s so suffocating. You want to do this, you want to hear him cry out your name again.
Even when he tries to pull his hips back, you grab onto him and hold his hips in place, pushing your lips further down, depressing your tongue even more as the thickest part of him cuts off your airways. Your throat restricts around him, and you feel proud of it. Proud of choking on him, happy to keep doing it.
He stutters in awe, gripping the windowsill with his free hand and using the other to feel your hollowed out cheeks. Shit, you’re going to taste him, he’s going to give you all of it, he’s going to–
Shocked, floored, entirely drunk for you, all he can do is watch as you choke. His body did not warn him at all when his cum shoots into your throat, warming your belly with that first swallow around him.
Your reaction to it is immediate though, as he watches with half-crossed eyes the way you pull off of him and let his cum spurt out and drip all over your face. Down those beautiful cheeks, onto your plush lips, and down your neck.
It won't stop. He just keeps coming. His entire body trembles as he stares at you, and you stare back before closing one eye due to the fact that there is now cum in your eyelashes, and you fucking smile at him.
The image alone keeps him hard as his body finally stops twitching. You, there on your knees, smiling up at him drenched in him.
“Baby,” He soothes out with a raspy tone. “Fuck, you didn’t have to do–”
“I’m wet. Jake.” You smile, as if you’re admitting this to him to gain some sort of congratulations for it. And in a way, you are. He has no idea how amazing it is to you right now that you can feel your panties go sticky. It feels amazing to admit to him, actually.
It’s so relieving, it’s so warm, it’s something you never should have missed out on in the first place.
“What?” He asks with uneven breath, dropping to his knees in front of you again, rubbing the cum into your skin with his thumb as he caresses your face. “You are?”
You beam at him, smiling with a nod.
“Really?” He asks again, in disbelief because this was all it took?
You nod again, leaning back on your arms and watching him follow, hovering over you and slotting himself between your legs with a hungry gaze.
“Can I feel?” He asks abruptly, crawling over you to the point that your back hits the side table behind you, keeping you from lying all the way down.
And you nod before you think about it. Wondering if this is how it’s always supposed to be. Always willing, always wanting, always needing.
He stares at you when you nod, glancing down to your middle then back at you as if to gain another confirmation.
You nod again, this time wanting to hide your face in your arms. You anticipate it, wondering what it’ll feel like to be touched there again by a hand that isn’t your own after all this time. And when you feel his shaking hand dip into your sweat pants, you don’t even shutter. You don’t shy away.
You’re surprising yourself even, letting out a gasp when he cups your core and looks down at you with a cautious smile.
“You’re dripping, baby.” He smiles as he balances himself on one arm over you, rubbing his hand back and forth and memorizing the dips and folds he can feel through this flimsy fabric. Then, his more intrusive thoughts spill in an unintentional and needy groan. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”
Words that would make you recoil are no longer scaring you. You can tell he wants to apologize for saying it too, but goddamn, you loved hearing it. In fact, your entire body pulses at the words, feeling his hand do nothing more than hold you there and gently rub. His eyes are pleading though, with his lips pouting as he relishes in thoughts of probably fucking his fingers into you just to see if he’s right.
Or maybe it’s just you hoping that’s what he’s thinking about. You can’t help the way you clench, letting out a strained breath as you lurch forward and hug him around his neck, squeezing so tightly as you whisper against the shell of his ear.
“You can touch me– if you want.” You whisper, physically feeling the goosebumps against his neck raise to your lips. “Just go slow.”
You still need to go slow, after all, you don’t know how your brain may react to this, despite loving it at the moment. Relishing in the fact that someone managed to make you feel horny again. You feared that you never could again. God, he’s amazing.
“I’ll go so slow for you,” He whispers back, twisting his hand in your pants to hook his fingers around your panties to pull them to the side. “Oh, baby, you really do want this, don’t you?” He whispers again upon really feeling you drip, trying to slide his fingers through the slick mess before rubbing circles around your hole. He’s lost his train of thought now, only able to feel one sense at a time so that he can fucking memorize how you coat his fingers entirely.
He moans again from deep in his chest along with you, despite knowing you’re the only one feeling the pleasure of his fingers. You feel his moan vibrate through his throat when you kiss him there, anticipating what it’s going to feel like when he slides a finger in.
And it’s like you see stars when he does, slowly pressing one into you as he wraps his other arm around your waist to hold you in place, sitting back on his knees and forcing you to stand on your own infront of him.
There he holds you as if he’s afraid you’ll start to fight, relishing the feeling of your wet walls hugging his finger all while you cling to him through it. He was right, you are tight despite how wet you’ve gotten. It’s almost like you’re a virgin despite knowing that you’re not.
Your body is reacting this way for him, and you’re hugging him, and your pussy is clenching for him. He just knows that if he manages to fit his cock into you, he’d fucking lose it. You’d squeeze him so tight, and he’d fuck it so deep. Fill you up, deeper, deeper, until the only name you know is his.
He’s losing it again, hearing your little whispered moans against his ear, hanging on him like a fucking pet, god, he wants you to squeeze the fucking blood out of him. You’re being so compliant, so submissive, so–
“Do you even know…” He starts babbling, trying to silence his thoughts by giving them straight to you as his finger slides out, eagerly shoving two back in at a much quicker, much harsher pace. “How much I’ve dreamed about this?”
You shake your head noting how he’s already mentioned dreaming of you once. The thought has you spreading your legs out to feel how deep his fingers reach inside of you. There’s no pain involved in this, despite his pace not being nearly as slow as he said he would go. You’re not upset, you want him to go faster, you want him deeper, you want to hear him talk.
“So many times, baby, so many times.” He soothes himself more than you through these words, losing himself more and more each second to the feeling of your core clenching his fingers. “You’re even prettier to me right now,” He continues to babble, listening to you hum in his ear at the pleasure you feel. “I want you to take everything from me.”
“I want you to wrap your legs around my neck, I want you to rub my nose in it, I want you to suffocate me, I want—”
“Shit, Jake.” You moan out his name for the first time at the dirty words. They’re a lot to take in only because you know it truly is a lot, or rather, it should be. But you fucking want that too. You want everything from him, you want everything he wants. Everything. “What else?” You urge him to keep talking.
“I want you to pull my hair,” He says, instantly feeling your fingers slide up his neck and into the thick of it, tugging immediately. “I want you to make it fit here too.” He continues, curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting his own hips against the dense air in your apartment.
You moan again at his hot words. You’re overwhelmed by how much you want more, how much you’d let him, right here, right now.
“Keep going,” You sing out, feeling it in your stomach and knowing that this familiar feeling is so much better than you’ve ever felt before. “Tell me, Jakey, fuck–” You continue, huffing at the way his fingers quicken even more.
“Sound so pretty saying my name, fuck,” He groans now, more level than before as he feels your legs close around his arm, fingers relentlessly hitting the soft spot inside of you. “Tell me that I’d never hurt you, that only I can make you feel like this.”
You nod aggressively as your brain hits a wall, unable to fulfill his request. Every muscle in your body tenses in pleasure as you begin to shake, moving your own hips against his fingers and tugging his hair harder without intention.
He moans out at how tight you hold him, wanting nothing more than to lay you out and bury himself into you, to feel your pussy jerk him off.
“Feels so good, baby, right?” He continues to talk, feeling your tight walls try to push his fingers out with each threat of your build up, his mind is spinning. “Say it–” He stutters, feeling his own body react the same way yours is. “Fuck, please, say that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” You whisper out of breath against his ear, the hot breath sending him overboard as he immediately pulls his fingers from you and grips his cock instead, ignoring your whimper of the lost build up.
“Yeah,” He cries out, thrusting his hips against his hand. “So let me– please, please let me.”
His face looks so broken when you stare at him in shock, eyes pleading for you to give him all of it. To give him everything right now. How could you fucking say no to that expression? How could you ever say no to him?
And still, with your orgasm half-fulfilled, you’re entirely enamored with the way you instantly want it too. As if you’re rushing head first into a brick wall with him, and you stop just to think for a moment.
Should you?
Do you intend to keep this man forever? Do you want him to leave? Would you be able to picture a day without him?
It confirms in your brain right then and there. You do intend to keep him. You don’t want him to leave. You could never picture a day without him at this point.
If he wants to have sex with you right now? Why not? You’re sure that if he is truly wanting to stay, sooner or later you’ll feel him pumping inside of you. Why should it matter that it happens now rather than tomorrow? Or next week? Or even next month?
Instantly upon your snap decision, you stand on shaking legs, watching him watch you. His hand gripping himself harshly to prevent a pathetic and untouched orgasm, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.
You smile, dropping your pants, panties, and then lifting your shirt right up and over your head. All he does in response is wince, grip the base of his cock harder, and try to focus on not spilling and wasting his cum on your floor. Brain only slightly trying to distract him with the idea of grabbing those sticky panties to suck them clean.
“Really?” He chokes, out of breath and standing up, swiping your panties up quickly and crumpling them in his hand.
Then, you feel one hand on you after he drops his length, and the other rubbing those same wet panties against your skin, as if he has a death grip on them and you. Still, he walks you right back to the window and against it, speaking in that same, needy and shaking breath. “Baby, are you sure?”
You look away, feeling vulnerable and shy but so willing, so ready when you nod and throw your leg around his waist as if to tell him that you’re more than sure.
He gives you a breathy chuckle, pulling back just to lift his shirt off of him, hang your panties at the base of his cock, and then he grabs your leg and holds it in place. “Right here?”
He can’t tell if he’s even alive right now, with your pussy sitting spread open right up against him as you let him hold you here, your ass is probably looking great for the camera right now. Your panties feel so good in their rightful place, dangling just in front of his balls. You feel so good in your rightful place, right up against the wall with him trapping you here.
You nod again, pressing your hips forward, proving to him how hungry you feel for him right now. Finally feeling dirty and not hating yourself for it.
“Right here.” You confirm, tuned into his lips and leaning forward to lick against them. “That’s what you want, right?”
He’s stunned by how you take control while still being somehow submissive to him about it. Almost like you’re shaming him for wanting it, almost like you don’t want to admit that you want it too.
“Is that what you want?” He asks, trying hard not to think about how you’ve shifted entirely within the span of however long it’s been since the two of you started this. Is this how you act when you're horny?
“How could I not?” You confirm again with a confident tone, watching your boyfriend break in front of you. “Look at you.”
Jake can’t bear to look at himself, he knows he looks just about as pathetic as he’s always wanted. Never quite able to feel pathetic enough to satisfy him, only now understanding why he chased and chased the feeling to have you like this.
Controlling whether he can stick his dick in you, controlling whether he can fuck off and die.
That’s how it’s supposed to be in a relationship, but somehow it’s something else between both of you. For him, it’s like you’ve intentionally edged him for an entire week and for you it’s like you finally have control over your own sexuality again.
You feel powerful, and Jake wants to be entirely at your mercy.
“No one has ever wanted me this bad and waited.” You finally say to his intense and loving stare. “I want to give you anything you want.”
If he had a tail, it would be wagging so fast right now. It’s like he’s being given a treat for being exactly who you needed him to be, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing it.
“I could wait longer,” Jake mumbles, inching his lips to yours and letting his other hand cup one of your tits. “You could make me suffer,” He continues, whispering it right into your mouth. “Could lock me up and starve me of it.”
You lean your face back, a little shocked at his choice of words there.
“So you meant those things you said earlier?” You ask, remembering how he babbled on about wanting you to suffocate him, about how he wanted you to take everything from him.
“Do you want me to be honest?” He counters, now pressing his hips forward and letting his cock weep against your thigh.
You nod to him.
“I want you to take it all out on me.” He admits, gripping your tit in his hand tighter, hiking your leg up higher. “I want you to control every aspect of my life.”
Honestly, it shouldn’t be a thought that brightens your brain but it does. It sounds toxic, and you can’t even tell if he’s saying this just because he’s horny and is about two seconds from slamming you up and against this window with the force of his cock alone. Somehow, you love the thought of all of it.
“Every aspect?” You ask with interest. “What do you mean?”
He chuckles as he hangs his head, watching his length pulse constantly against your thigh and the panties hanging off of it. Only then does he release your tit and use your panties as a way to position his cock up, lining up with the wet of your core that is only for him.
“It means–” He starts, sliding into you with a paused moan, hiccuping slightly as he furrows his brows. “I want you to make me cry for you.” He continues with a tilt to his head as he watches the way you wince at all of the strength he has to hold you up like this, to slide into you like this. “I want you to hurt me, and I want you to love doing it.”
He bottoms out after that, holding you in place and feeling your walls struggle to adjust to the tight fit.
“It’s what you deserve.” He soothes out to you, kissing you once. “To take someone the same way you’ve been taken.”
You recoil instantly, pussy restricting in horror at the reminder of why you never do this with another person, but god the way he lifts on his toes just to plunge somehow deeper into you. The way his lips trap you even more, the way his force is nothing but fucking amazing to feel. All you can do is moan, bump your head against the window, and squeeze him.
“You said you wanted to give me what I want–” He slides out of you just a little bit. “So, can you?” He pushes back in, listening to you get wetter at his words and feeling your answer when you can’t seem to speak for yourself.
“I said I’d never hurt you, love,” He coos out this time, watching your body shift up against the window as he picks up some sort of rhythm, taking you the way he’s always wanted you. Right here, against the window. “But I never said that you couldn’t hurt me.”
Why the fuck is that so hot? God, why does a man like Jake offer you so much? Why is he doing this to you? Why is he doing it to himself? Why do you love it?
You find yourself nodding as you moan out, still not quite adjusted to his size and the way he made it fit into you in such a…pleasurable way. It doesn’t hurt at all, it feels good.
“Yeah, I knew you would.” He continues to talk as if he’s not internally losing it, but months worth of pretending, several orgasms today alone, and having your pussy hugging him just as tightly as he knew it would? That’s helpful.
And now, as your fingers grip at him through his harsh and deep thrusts, all he can do is hold your leg against him, lean forward, and stare directly into his apartment window. As if he’s mocking his former self, as if everything in the world has fallen into place. You wouldn’t leave him now, never, you’d be just as stupid as everyone else if that were the case.
He has faith in you, in himself, in this, and the way you drip all over him.
He knew you’d be perfect for him.
It doesn’t take long, really, for him to pull an orgasm out of you when he’s doing it this good. In fact, you don’t even have to reach a hand down to help pull it out of you by the time your body begins to stiffen up at it.
His pace is slow, his cock is deep, and fuck his entire body is on you. You couldn’t squeeze your hand down if you tried, in fact, you don’t think he’d even consider letting you do any of this on your own.
His grip is so strong, you can feel your sweat stick to the window as you slam your head down on his shoulder, sliding up and down the window with each of his powerful thrusts.
It feels so good to do this again.
“Jake–” You hiccup against his neck, listening to his heaved and choked breaths through each thrust. “I wish I had done this sooner.” You manage to get out, body tensing and relaxing by the minute with the threat of an orgasm. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
And honestly, you don’t know what’s gotten into you, nor do you fucking care. If you want to cry, you’ll fucking cry. It’s been too long since your tears hit you out of pleasure, or happiness, or fucking safety. At this rate, you’ll never let this man go.
“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you, arms shaking as he holds you up and thrusting in as deep as he can go.
You feel him stutter in his pace, his hips stopping as you feel his heavy cock pulsate against your clenching walls.
“Are you close?” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Is that why you’re sorry?”
You look at him with glassy eyes, smiling dazed at him as you shake your head.
“No,” You smile wider, running your hands up and into his hair, remembering what he asked for before. You tug, forcing his head to tilt back so that you can attach your lips to him. “I’m saying it because I want you to always make me feel this good.” You whisper against his pulse point, kissing it hard.
You feel him lose composure at that, his hips immediately moving again, slamming up and into you so hard that you can’t even hold your head still enough to kiss him there again.
“Ah, fuck,” He whimpers out, “why would you fucking say that to me right now?” He continues, relentlessly fucking himself against the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. “You still make me feel so insane, only you could do this to me.”
You smile, having learned that he appears to love the torture anyway.
“You love it though, don’t you Jakey?” You say, loving the way he loses it for you, learning how badly he’s wanted this, seeing him intend to stay.
And at those words, he can’t take it anymore. Fuck the camera, fuck anything else in the world that isn’t you. He ignores that wince on your face when he slips out of you, ignores the way the panties fall from his length, and focuses entirely on the way you hug him as he carries you straight to the couch.
Right there, he drops you and watches the way your tits bounce at the motion.
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He says, feeling the arousal run through his veins, knowing you’d love to hear him say that while never knowing just how true it is. “How are you real?”
You smile, hiding your face as you feel his hands hold your thighs open. You know what he’s looking at, and you can’t force yourself to see him do it. Solely because you know it’s going to swell your heart so big that you’d only fear the day he wants to leave it empty.
And you don’t respond either, because you can’t. His fingers are spreading you open and you can hear him drop to his knees yet again for you. You wan’t to look so bad, but still, you fear the love in his eyes.
You fear and want all of it.
He hears the sharp inhale you give when he spreads you out, really inspecting the single spot on your body that no one on this earth should ever see aside from him.
“This is where it hurt the most, isn’t it?” He asks, staring into the hole he’s already fucked, watching it beg him for more despite his words that probably stab your soul.
You’ll never understand how he can take your pain and turn it into something you don’t mind hearing though. Yes, that’s where it hurt the most, and still, that’s where you want him the most.
“Yeah, baby?” He asks again, reaching an arm up and forcing you to look at him. “This is what you were so afraid of?” He continues, dipping down and rubbing his face directly into the folds and inhaling a deep breath.
“Y-yeah.” You choke out at the feeling, in awe of how you knew his eyes would make you terrified. He still stares up at you as he does it, pointing his glare straight through you and into your fucking spirit.
Only Jake can make you fear nothing else in this world aside from the thought of losing him.
“I’ll make it better,” He says, boosting his ego at the way your legs wrap around his head. “You’ll always want me here,” He continues, cooing out with each taste and lick of your budding arousal. “You’ll never want me to stop–”
No man has ever wanted you this bad while having you, even as you experienced the trauma of just that. Your ex wanted you physically, but something about the man drying to drown himself in your pussy right now makes you feel like he wants you on a level far deeper than what’s possible.
He’s eating you out like he wants to eat you whole. Like he could devour you, and never spit you out of his mouth.
“Shit, shit–” You moan, hands shooting down to his hair yet again, finding yourself loving the way his grown-out roots feel softer than the harsher dyed section of his hair. You tug harder than you have before, feeling his tongue search and yearn for everything you have to offer him.
“Mhm.” He mumbles with a mouth full of pussy, rolling his eyes back at how you do just as he suggested before. Rubbing his nose in it, letting him continue to lose himself in the point of all of his problems.
And it’s as if you forgot that this only happens to reach a point of coming. The experience alone feels like one long and drawn out orgasm already, it doesn’t take anything at all for him to get you there.
It’s like he already knows it too, because you go entirely silent with a held breath as he holds your hips and buries his tongue deep inside of you. He wants to feel it, he wants to taste it. And he suffers for it, really, neglecting his own cock and knowing he’s going to come through this alone anyway.
As expected, he does. Upon the first gush of your slick hitting his tongue, his cock pulses, his balls squeeze up, and he can feel it shoot out of him each time your pussy shakes against his suffocated mouth.
And your hands, so perfect in his hair, pulling without even knowing. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, this is more than he could have ever asked for.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By this point in your relationship, the two of you have moved so quickly that it doesn’t even scare you. In fact, if it slowed down at any point, you’d probably be preparing a suicide note simply because you don’t want to be in this world without Jake.
Since the first time you got intimate with him, it’s like it hasn’t stopped. You’re shocked at his thirst for you and even more shocked that someone so fucking perfect would waste his breath on you even for this long.
It hasn’t been that long, really, since the first time you touched him. A few days at most, but it’s like that moment solidified a lot for the two of you.
One, he’s not going to be sleeping in his own bed anytime soon or, ever, really. Two, you’ve learned through at least two more sessions of Jake’s mouth on you that he really does want you to live up to his requests. He makes it known how badly he wants you to make him suffer, how badly he needs you to give him everything he wants. Thankfully, he’s patient with your reluctance. And Three, your ex is no longer a threat.
Each message you receive, you just hand your phone to Jake and he takes care of it.
It doesn’t even translate in your head that you’ve been barred from answering your mother’s calls until the police show up at your door for a wellness check. Where, of course, Jake answers,
“Yeah, she’s here.” You hear his voice as you lay flat against your bed, heaving breaths as if he didn’t just have the tip of his dick in you. “Why?” You hear him question.
A few more muffled words and you hear the door close and his footsteps making his way to your room.
“Cops.” He dead-pans, “Your mom thinks you're dead.” he adds with an eye roll.
Your internal panic, a feeling you had once been so accustomed to that now feels almost foreign, takes over your body.
“Fuck, my mom!” You say in a fast breath, rushing onto your feet and throwing on a pair of his soiled sweatpants.
Jake hangs back but listens to your conversation from your hallway, listening intently to how you speak to other men, cops or not.
“Yeah,” You say, scratching your temple with shame. “I guess I didn’t realize she was calling me so much.”
Try five times a day.
“I’ll call her now, sorry for wasting your time.” You continue with that nervous chuckle that you used to use on him during your dates.
And then you’re back in the room, looking at him with a raised brow.
“Why didn’t you tell me my mom has been calling?” You ask, a little annoyed that it’s gotten to the point of freaking your mother out.
Jake shrugs, then looks at you apologetically.
“I don’t like when she forces you to talk about it.” He finally says, sulking his shoulders and huffing out. “I don’t like that she tells you to be careful around me.”
You roll your eyes, relieved that he’s just being himself and wanting to keep you happy.
“Still, you should have told me. She’s going to have a fucking heart attack thinking he showed up at my work place again.”
Jake’s entire brain stops working, his body going rigid as if the cold air outside is hitting him in full force.
Your eyes immediately widen as you slam your hand over your mouth. Fuck, you forgot that you told her in a hushed tone, explaining that it’s okay. That Jake wouldn’t let anything happen to you.
Fuck.
“He what?” Jake says, dumbfounded at the slip of your words.
“Jake, wait–” You try to get an explanation but he’s not having it.
“You haven’t been at work, what do you mean he showed up?” He glares, chest heaving as his heart rate picks up.
“It was from that day when you first stayed over,” You look at the floor apologetically. “I didn’t want to talk about it…” You trail off, feeling his energy hit you in the face at how he’s completely shifted from that loving, soft boyfriend you’re so used to.
“You kept that from me!?” He seethes out in disbelief. This whole time he thought he fucked your ex up enough to prove what would happen if he even fucking tried it. By you explaining that it happened just after Jake found him, that’s a direct insult.
A threat.
A fucking death wish.
“I didn’t–” You stutter trying to explain yourself. “I didn’t think it would matter since you were here. You were keeping me safe.”
“You lied to me?” He continues interrogating you, coming up to you and practically demanding an answer through his eyes.
You look away, nodding.
“You said you wanted me to keep you safe, what would have happened if you had to go to work again?” He drones on and on, seemingly stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell him. “What would happen if they called you to go in today?”
Already you’re starting to cry, feeling stupid for not making a bigger deal out of it. To be fair, not talking about it helped and you did intend to tell him at some point. That just…never happened.
“I would have asked you to stay with me at work.” You say, feeling numb as the fear of losing the man in front of you steals your every thought. “I’d have not gone. I’d have quit. I don’t know!”
Jake backs down at your words, only able to soften his rage if you’re the one who causes it.
“Baby,” His soft voice shocks you when you feel him come back to himself, as if to comfort the fear he just instilled in you. “I’m not mad.”
Yes he is, you know he is.
“Now you’re the one lying.” You argue, pushing him away only to feel his grip on you tighten.
“Am I?” He asks, urging you to keep talking. “Are you mad at me now?” He continues, intentionally pushing your buttons.
“Mad that I should have already known?”
“Mad that I didn’t let you talk to your mom?”
“Mad that I’m keeping you safe, while you keep putting yourself in the position to be hurt by him again?”
You stare at the floor.
“Mad that this is your fault?”
Yeah, you are mad.
“Fuck you, Jake.” You break, feeling his strangling fingers on your skin scratch and leave welts when you force yourself away from him. “Fuck you for all of that.”
“What else?” He presses, hanging on specific words. “Fuck me for what else?”
You just stare at him, and he can see the anger in your eyes.
“For not being there when it happened?” He asks gently. “For not killing him when I had the chance?”
When he had the chance.
“What do you–” You try to ask, but he just continues, closing back in on you.
Somehow, you need it, despite wanting to pull away every time.
“Fuck me for wanting this from you, right?” He says, much closer to you and dipping down to kiss you. “Fuck me for wanting you to be this mad, hmm?”
You break again, something deep within you spiraling into a different type of insanity you’ve never felt. You don’t feel trauma, you don’t feel scared, you feel…enraged.
“Fuck me for thinking you look perfect,” He whispers against your lips. “Fuck me to fuck me, fuck me to fight me, fuck me.”
The repeated words fit into your brain like they belong there. Like this anger is supposed to be filling you with pleasure rather than dread. Like you’re supposed to feel just as in love as you are mad.
“Just fuck me, baby.”
And god fucking dammit. How does he crawl into the depths of your brain, like a fucking roach, and kiss all of the areas you don’t know exist? How the fuck does he wake shit up inside of you that you never dreamed of having, or feeling, or wanting.
“I hate you.” You say, and meaning it too.
Because you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone more than you do now.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He smiles, dipping his hand down into the sweats you put on and sliding into the same slick he had spilling out of you just before the pigs showed up. “I love it.” He chuckles against your lips when you refuse to moan at his touch.
You’re pushing against every good feeling inside of you right now, thinking only of how this rage spills out of you and against his fingers.
“So wet to hate me–” He says, pressing and pressing and pressing for you to just fucking– “Hit me.”
He sees your eyes shine at the very thought of how badly you must want to do that, unknowing of how much he wants it too. Needing it almost.
And oh, the moan he lets out when your weak hands raise to shove him back. He plays off of it, stumbling back to your bed just to fall on it. Waiting, knowing you’ll come take him for all he’s worth.
“Come on, love.” He encourages you. “Make me sorry.”
You hate him, and you hate that you love it. Love that he loves it, fucking adore that he wants this, he wants to let you do whatever you want to him.
To kick, cry, scream, release everything that’s been trapped in your head for years.
You don’t even falter, feeling it bubble up and overtake every thought. Dripping down your legs as if this is the only way you could ever fulfill your own pleasure again. Only now to you slide the pants back off of you, so horny out of your mind that all you can manage is to feel these emotions drip for him.
He watches you straddle him bare from the waist down, sees your breath shaking, and your lips quivering.
Jake knew you had it in you.
“Take them off.” You demand, rolling your eyes at the way he looks up at you with pure bliss.
“Hit me first.” He offers, feeling his cock strained against his own pants that he haphazardly threw on when he heard the knock at your door. “Hit me, and I’ll fuck the hate out of you.” He lies.
“Take them off.” You repeat, cold hands reaching down as you do it yourself, lifting just enough to shove them down far enough.
And god, the breath is knocked clean out of him with the way you just take him. You slide down perfectly, bottoming him out in one motion. He can see now that you need this perhaps even more than he does.
“God, come on baby.” He moans, feeling you just sit still on him.
“Jake,” You warn, running your cold hands up to his neck on instinct. “Shut up.” You squeeze.
The smile that forms on his face is pornographic at best, and drunk at worst. You see him love every instant of it, and you don’t want to admit that you do too.
You didn’t know it would feel so good to have a man’s neck in your hands, squeezing it just to shut him up. Releasing it just to hear him gasp out a praise.
“So good,” He praises, eyebrows knitted together as he loses himself to the way your pussy chokes his length. You’re not even fucking him, you’re just– “So perfect.” He continues, nearly wailing out at the immense love he feels inside.
And then, you do. You hit him. Power hungry and entirely at a loss for your own pleasure, you land a harsh and loud slap right against his face, only for him to moan louder.
Only for him to fuck up.
Only for him to grip your sheets so tight that you hear a rip.
Again. You slap him, feeling your anger slowly fizzle with each frantic moan he gives back.
Again, and again.
“Shit, you love that, don’t you?” He manages to say, feeling his cheeks sting with red-hot passion, only to be hit again, and again. “God, make it hurt.”
At this point, you know that you could never give him enough as the rage leaves your body entirely and it’s replaced with nothing but the need to just….fuck him. Never in your life have you ever been blinded by a need so badly, save for safety.
And you have that now, don’t you? You have Jake now, right where you want him, right he wants to be. He wants you to feel this, he made you feel this.
The first bounce felt like pure agony, slamming his cock into you by your own force, feeling him stretch you open, hearing it slap and echo against the walls.
“Make it hurt?” You finally say, pinching his cheeks together and forcing him to look at you. “I don’t think I could hurt you enough if I tried.” You admit, quite truthfully, mind you.
Jake gives you a crooked smirk.
“Try it anyway.” He coos, feeling the way you repeatedly arch your back just to ride him faster. “Could fill you up, right here, right now, flip you over and make you take it if you’re so worried that you can’t.”
It runs through you like a cold shiver. You don’t want to give up this power, you want to try.
“That’s big talk for someone asking to be choked right now.” You dead-pan at him, voice even and calm. You continue to move your hips, listening to his repeated moans with each breath. “So loud and needy for it too.”
Jake nods proudly and drunkenly, reaching his hands out to yours and forcing them back on his neck.
“I could be needier.” He says, pressing your hands against his airways.
You take over for him, choking his remaining words out of him and forcing him to moan.
“You said you’d make me take it?” You seethe out through your own pained moan, riding him so hard that you feel sensitive. “Like you think it would hurt me?”
He shakes his head rapidly, implying that you’re wrong to think that. Wanting to tell you that if he made you take it, you’d love every second of it. You wouldn’t tell him no.
“After promising you never would, Jake?” You question still, knowing he can’t answer. You squeeze harder as you watch his face darken, the blood rushing to burst in the whites of his eyes. “Is that it? You want to hurt me so that I hurt you back?”
He nods in a daze, wanting nothing more than to die like this now, or some other day. To hear your voice, feel your hands, and know that you’re fucking him through it.
“You don’t scare me.” You finally say, releasing the grasp and listening to the sharp inhale he takes in. “As much as I wish you did, you don’t.”
That’s all it takes really, knowing that he could work you like a puppet and you’d still love him. Why else would you say that? You wouldn’t fuck him like this if you didn’t mean it. Your mother long forgotten, the anger gone, it’s just a raw form of you and him right now.
Everything you’re saying is more truthful than he ever thinks you’ve been with him.
“Want me to?” He finally asks with a wet gasp as he continues to catch his breath. “I bet I could.”
“You can’t.” You say, now slowing your hips as your legs tire out, bracing yourself on his shoulders to take a breath.
“I can.” He says, immediately overpowering you. He sits up quick, flipping you right over and onto your back. “I can make you feel anything I want.” He whispers darkly to you. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest, lost entirely from this reality. “Anything you want.”
You just stare up at him, willing to accept his words even more when he slams his length into you, so deep that you feel nothing but the pain of it.
For the first time, he’s hurting you through pleasure alone.
“Could make you love it too,” He continues to dote on himself as he watches the sparkle in your eye dim. “You love it already, don’t you?”
“I’m not afraid.” You manage to mutter out through a guttural groan, wincing at the way he drives himself into you at such a speed that all you feel is pain.
“I can’t take you seriously when you talk like that.” He chuckles, feeling entirely in control of whatever entity is running his body right now. “I see you baby, you’re terrified to lose me.”
Your eyes die in that moment, because out of anything in this world, he’s pinpointed your biggest fear.
“So pretty when you’re scared too,” He hums out, not relenting at all with the force of his hips when he lets your legs fall around him, and he finds himself burying his face between your tits. “Maybe I should threaten to leave you.”
Instantly, you cry.
“Just so I can eat up these little tears you have for me.”
You wish he would shut up.
“So I can taste the way you come on me, and feel your pussy try and lock me here.” He smooths over your nipple at the words, slowing his hips and pulling out just to the tip. “Your body tells me more than you know, love.”
Your eyes roll up when his pointed thrust shoves your body across your sheets, your hands reach for his shoulders, clawing for any sense of normality to this moment.
“So quiet.” He lightens his own voice now, letting it fall against your collarbone in a tone just above a whisper. “So stubborn.”
Your mind awakens at the insult, hoping he’s right.
“To think I’d ever leave you.” He smiles, lifting up to meet your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He tastes your tears and it’s just enough for him to forgive you.
To forgive you for not hitting him enough, for not choking him until he died. To forgive you for even thinking you’d need to talk to your mother, and for fucking lying to him.
And only now does he go quiet, fucking you will full intent now that he’s already in your head at every turn and corner. He can tell with the way you don’t even realize your previous orgasm.
With the way it bubbled out and down his balls, hugging his cock so tightly that all he could do was keep fucking with your mind, toying with threats only to silence them.
And then, you inhale a sob, and breathe out his name, so pretty to your ears, even more beautiful to his own.
“Don’t leave me.” You chime out, body numb and emotions threatening you into a panic attack.
“I’m right here, love.” He chuckles. “You’re shaking.”
You are. More than you can even comprehend, your body is shaking from feeling everything and nothing at once, all the way up until you do feel something.
“Ah, shit.” You cry out, hugging his body so tightly against you. “Right there–”
And Jake does it, angling his hips to repeatedly hit the spot inside of you. Knowing you’re sensitive, knowing you can take it, knowing that he can’t when he feels every drop in your body push him out of you.
Instantly he plunges back in, listening to the wet sounds of all that love you must have for him. He can barely move in this suffocating hug as your body shakes and quivers more than it ever has, even through your past traumas, even through the cold nights this city offers.
He has spent you and fucked you dry.
“There she is,” He echoes into your ear. “The girl of my dreams.”
The only energy left in you is enough to give him a smile before your tunnel vision fades into nothingness.
It feels calm in the darkness he gives you, and even calmer when you wake up feeling as if all of this was a dream.
It wasn’t though, because you can feel the way you’re still leaking all over your bed. Your own slick mixed with his, and you don’t even remember when or how he orgasmed because he certainly was taking his time before you initially fainted, but you’re glad he did. You think he is too, with the way he clings to you like a puppy, as if he didn’t just fuck reality straight out of you.
Lending you the gift of floating, and of pain you find yourself to love.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Waking up the next morning felt like you were a new person and you couldn’t be happier to see the saddest version of you die. The only fear you need to have is that Jake may some day choose to leave, and he said himself that he never would.
You trust him more than anyone, more than yourself even, considering he’s managed to force you into facing so many versions of yourself that you didn’t even know you had.
This is the first morning you’ve woken up without your skin crawling and you can’t help but shake him awake, destroying that blushed and sleeping face of his.
“Jake,” You shake him, feeling him stir instantly and lend you a crooked smile. “Wake up.”
You listen to his morning stretch as his body vibrates in a yawn, and then he’s nuzzling his face even further into your naked chest.
For what feels like hours, you find yourself engaging in pillow talk. Logging into work? Long forgotten. Calling your mother? Forgotten. The pain in your body? Ignored.
You tell him everything. Every detail of your life, your first memory, your first laugh and cry. All of the times your heart has been shattered, your least favorite colors and favorite words in the world. And he just…listens.
He nods, he smiles, he coos and kisses you throughout all of it.
And then–
“You know, a while back before we met, I came home and noticed some of my things were missing and messed with. I can’t help but feel like he’s known where I’ve been this whole time.”
Jake stiffens in your grasp before relaxing. It happened so fast that you don’t think anyone but you would have noticed it.
“Some of my panties were gone, and the batteries in my toys went missing weeks ago–not that it matters now or anything.” You continue, watching his face intently. “ At first I thought that maybe I was just forgetful but– now i know that it really was him.” You pause, smiling at him. “I’m just kind of waiting now, wondering if he’s ever going to try and do it again.”
“Do you want me to kill him?” Jake chuckles out as if to offer a funny little solution, one that he has genuinely considered more times than he can count. And he should have already, honestly.
You feel warmer at the way he makes jokes, but you know better than anyone that Jake jumps into action driven only by rage at times.
“He won’t come near you again, love, haven’t I proved that to you already?” He continues, imagining the blood of his man on his fists again. Imagining the way his bones would crack so beautifully.
You nod in an almost shy way to him.
“You’re safe with me.” He says, wrapping his arms around himself as you cradle him. “You’re safe with me.” He continues, repeating it more to himself because he feels as though he can’t fail you again, “You’ve always been safe.”
You haven’t believed words so deeply until you met him.
“He already fucking knows–” He whispers shortly, cutting himself off. “I’ll kill him.” He whispers a bit louder, uncaring if you heard that first slip of his words.
Something in your brain floods at those words. A confirmation that you’ve seen him break before, and it wasn’t your imagination. Your protective, loving, and sweet boyfriend has a side to him that you’ve yet to truly see. Those words were more believable than any of the sweet things he’s ever said to you.
And still, you almost want to encourage it, reminding yourself of the image of your ex the day he showed up, all bruised up. And then to the image of Jake with his own little battle scar.
Deep down you think you knew what happened.
And you still wonder how such a perfect man fell into your lap? Your bruised up, pain-loving boyfriend, breaking his soft persona and showing you a glimpse of something that feels….unnervingly beautiful to you.
Unsure, almost, you feel. As happy as you are that he lied to you, you try to not think of how Jake found your ex with nothing more than an out-of-context description of your abuse. You try not to think of the way he looked away from you when you mentioned the items in your apartment that went missing.
You try not to think about how close he lives to you, and how he always managed to show up when you couldn’t hang out.
How all of his interests matched your own, up until he never spoke about them again when he started staying with you.
How he only looks at you, how he only talks to you, and about you.
How he always knew what to say to you.
You try not to think about how you saw him toss his own laundry into your washer many nights ago, seeing a glimpse of what you thought could have been a pair of your own missing panties. Or how he always accidentally picked up your toothbrush rather than his own in the mornings.
You push those thoughts far into the back of your mind, knowing that you were just being paranoid, grasping to not trust a single person in this world as you fall into this life with him. Even if all of those instances were with purpose on his end, you know you’d simply accept them as normal. You’d accept him, you wouldn’t think twice.
Jake is your only safety. He would never do anything to harm you, he’s proved that.
You hold his head tighter against your chest, breathing out a sigh and accepting everything at face value, pushing back the slight doubt in your head that everything he has done for you, to you, and with you, isn’t normal.
“Did you tell him already?” You sigh out in a calmer tone, soothing him with your fingers in his hair. “That you’d kill him? Is that really why you had that bruise?”
Jake stiffens under your grasp briefly.
“What do you m–” He starts.
“I won’t ask how,” You cut him off. “But thank you.”
He relaxes, thumbs now rubbing hearts into your skin, stomach bubbling in butterflies.
“I did.” He now admits reluctantly, feeling dangerously close to a truth you don’t need to see or know about. “I couldn’t just let another person think that you still belong to them.”
You pause, then nuzzle closer to him.
“I knew from the first time I saw you that I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you.” He continues, spilling and spilling. “I knew that you’d be mine.”
You try not to think too hard about it, asking out gently and instead choosing to just love him harder.
“When was the first time you saw me?”
Jake goes silent and tries to read the air in the room, sensing how relaxed you are against him.
“Eighteenth of October at the supermarket. We both made spaghetti for dinner that night.” He lies, never intending to admit that the first time he saw you was through your window. Never admitting that he actually already knew you by that eighteenth of October. That he followed you to the market.
He says it so confidently, and the fact that he’s right about what you cooked should scare you. The fact that you must have seen him that day too should make you feel unnerved.
You choose to ignore that too.
“Was your spaghetti good?” You ask, allowing yourself to spiral into the safety that he offers you. The image of your bruised ex boyfriend bringing joy to you, the idea of Jake keeping his promises making your stomach tingle with even brighter joy.
“No.” He admits with a chuckle. “Yours was probably better.”
“You really would kill him, wouldn’t you?”
Jake nods.
You trust him.
He’s not lying.
He would never lie to you.
Him knowing what you cooked that night is a coincidence. Him remembering the date and month is just him being mindful. Your lost panties must have gotten tangled in his laundry, surely. He found your ex because you probably let sensitive information slip without realizing it.
He met your mother and uncle by coincidence.
He’s the perfect man by chance, and you’re lucky to have him.
“I love you, you know.” You say, feeling him immediately shift away from your chest to look at you.
The look in his eye when he’s immediately getting on top of you, it’s still as if he’s about to wisp away with you in his arms to another realm. You’ve already been there before, and your body warms at the thought.
“What did you say?” He asks, voice shaking and somewhat far away from your own dissociated reality.
“I love you.” You say again, watching his lips quiver, and feeling his hands squeeze you.
He did it. He’s won.
And at the end of the day, you don’t think Jake could ever lose. After all, you’ve never felt so safe in a grasp as tight as this one, as painful as this one. You’ve never wanted a man to leave his fingerprints on you so bad.
As you look at him, seeing him lose himself from reality, you follow suit. Losing yourself with him, feeling that painful grasp on you turn into begging hands. Swelling him under your palms, soothing his stinging skin with your lips, listening to him encourage you, knowing that if your ex ever tried to step into this room, he wouldn’t make it out alive.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
oh, the horrors, amirite?
this is the last of the fic. there is not a part three.
taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs
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cam girl (part five)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.
When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.
Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.
You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.
Rafe: sore?
You reply: as fuck.
Rafe: you loved it
You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.
You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.
You reply: so did you
Your phone buzzes again.
Rafe: send an ass pic
You: are you always horny?
Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard
You: and i’m the needy one… lmao
Rafe: are u sending it or not
You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.
The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.
Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.
Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.
You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.
You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.
But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.
Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.
You text: wish u were here?
Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night
You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…
Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you
You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.
maybe, you reply.
Rafe: you took my cock so good
You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.
You: show me it
Rafe: you’d like that huh
You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it
Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick
You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.
You: what? i can’t tease you too?
Rafe: no
You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it
Rafe: only good girls deserve it
You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that
Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night
He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.
Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.
Rafe: ???
You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening
He only texts your name.
You: rafe :)
A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.
You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.
You: am i allowed to touch myself?
Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.
Rafe: if you promise me something
You: what?
Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight
Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.
The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.
You: i can do that
Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready
You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.
Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.
You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.
You pick up your phone.
You: might have to go back to sleep after that…
Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.
Rafe: order breakfast for yourself
The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?
You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3
Rafe: did u call about the heat yet
You reply: i will
Rafe: do it now
You: bossy
Rafe: now
God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.
It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.
You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.
When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.
The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.
You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.
He joins the session and lust fires through you already.
“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”
figure8: much better
figure8 tipped you $100.
“What’s that for?” you giggle.
figure8: for looking so pretty
“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”
You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.
figure8: goddamn
You smile.
figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second
“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”
figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?
You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.
You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”
figure8: maybe?
“Depends on your mood,” you say.
figure8: the fuck does that mean
“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”
figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol
“Shut up.”
figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night
“I hate you,” you laugh.
figure8: you love me and this dick
figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass
You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.
figure8: fuckkk just like that
“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.
figure8: i wanna see them ripped off
“These were expensive,” you pout.
figure8 tipped you $500.
figure8: there, you can buy more
“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.
figure8: rip them off right now
You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.
You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.
figure8: shake ur ass
You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.
figure8: let me see ur asshole
The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.
You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.
figure8: holy fucking shit
figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass
figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger
You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.
You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.
figure8: is it nice and wet?
“Mhm.”
figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?
You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.
figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it
You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.
figure8: hows it feel?
“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.
“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.
figure8: fuck yes
You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.
When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.
As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.
figure8: u like that?
“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”
You get the reaction you were hoping for.
figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?
“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.
figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?
“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”
figure8 tipped you $1000.
figure8 has left the session.
You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.
You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.
When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.
“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”
“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.
Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.
With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.
You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.
“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.
“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.
Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.
“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.
He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.
“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.
You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.
You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.
Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.
He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.
“Tighter,” you whisper.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.
His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.
“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.
“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”
His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.
“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”
“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.
You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.
Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.
You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.
“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”
The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.
Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.
“Don’t do that,” he instructs.
“My neighbors-“
“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.
“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”
“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.
“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”
“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”
The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.
“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.
You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.
As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.
“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.
“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.
You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.
Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.
“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”
You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.
He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.
“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.
You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.
“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”
“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”
He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.
“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.
“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”
His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.
The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.
“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”
His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.
Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.
He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.
He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.
“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”
His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.
You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.
“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”
You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?
“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.
He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.
“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.
Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.
Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.
Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.
He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.
“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”
“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.
“Cancel?”
“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean?” you whisper.
He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.
“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.
“They didn’t already fix it?”
“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”
“So, you spend another night cold?”
“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”
You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.
“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”
“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.
You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.
“Hotel?” you repeat.
“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”
“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”
Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.
You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.
You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.
“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.
“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”
You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.
This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?
But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.
You’re not sure what to do.
{ read part six here }
#I MIGHT HAVE GONE TOO FAR WITH THIS ONE!!!#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#rafe#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine
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Caught in 4k H.C.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, and Tamlin
Warnings: mdni, 18+, smut, masterbation, mentions of multiple kinks if you squint
Summary: A collection of head cannons where you catch the ACOTAR boys fantasizing / jerking it :) Just for funsies and I hope you like, lol. I also included photos for each! <3
SR’s Note: Honestly I saw this new photo / fan art of Lucien andddd I had to do something with it. The ween was staring at me… I was quite literally caught in 4k. SO, here we are, here’s an idea, I rolled with it. Enjoy, all you freaks (;
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Rhysand
Would absolutely be jerking off at his desk, in his office. Doors locked, he thinks no one is home.
He would start slow of course, then speed it up, thinking about you — how you looked before you’d left for downtown Velaris this morning, your hair up in that cute ponytail that showed off your pretty face.
Last time he had you at his desk your hair had been in a ponytail. His fist made for a rather sturdy hair tie.
“Ohhh,” he let out a small sigh, thinking of how your body looked as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind, your round little ass reverberating with every snap of his upper thighs against it. He squeezed his cock harder, thinking about the sounds that came with those thrusts-
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his head rolling back as he relaxed back in his chair, pumping his cock faster and faster, the image of your naked body pushing him toward his impending release. The way the desk would creak as his dick reached unimaginable depths inside you, sliding in and out so fucking fast; your body fit perfectly with his.
“Rhys! I’m back!” Your honey-filled, sing-songy voice rang out from the downstairs foyer just before he could release, and he immediately halted his movements. How long had he been doing this? He glanced at the clock — surely you hadn’t been gone that long.
The soft patter of footsteps rang out on the stairs, and he stuffed his still-hard dick back into his formal pants, struggling to tug the zipper up and attempt to conceal his erection. You’d surely notice, and he’d surely be embarrassed.
The door to the office swung open, and sure enough, you stood — bags in hand, ponytail and all. The bright smile on your face faltered when Rhys’ failed attempt at a warm greeting was recognized.
“What’s wrong, sweet heart?” You asked, setting down the paper bags and striding over to his desk. No no no, he thought. You needed to get out of here, at least until he could calm down.
“Nothing, my love.” He smiled, embracing you as you moved to sit on his lap. You shifted slightly, looking at all the papers atop his desk.
“You’ve got a lot of work it seems,” you say. He sighs lightly. “Yes my love,” he responds, kissing your cheek. The feel of you against him stiffens his cock, and he can only pray you don’t notice.
“Mhm,” you hum, shifting on him once more. Rhys’ breath comes out ragged, and you side-eye him with a smirk. “Almost the same amount as when I left earlier,” you point out. A small tinge of pink flushes his cheeks and you chuckle, kissing the tip of his nose before gazing tensely into his eyes.
“What were you doing up here all alone, anyways?” He meets your eye with an equally challenging stare. “Working.” He says coolly. You smile humorlessly, moving to straddle him instead. Instinctively, his hands cup your ass, squeezing hard. He knew what you were doing, but you didn’t care. It worked, and that’s all that mattered.
“I have something… else… you could work on, if you’d like?”
Cassian
He’d trained with you enough by now that he’d gotten used to your… attire. The way your tight leathers clung to your body, every dip and curve of you outlined for everyone to see.
He didn’t care so much now that you’d been together so long, but something about you striding in that morning stirred something in him.
You were laughing in that vivacious way you did, usually with Gwyn and Emerie and Nesta — a lot of times, when he was lucky, with him too.
He smiled at the sound of your voice, floating down the stairwell toward the training ring. His back was to you; but when he turned and caught the sight of you, your legs bare and midriff exposed, his breath faltered a bit.
Sure, he’d seen you completely nude before, but in front of your peers? Your friends? Especially during training… he wasn’t sure how he would handle two hours of this kind of torture. He could already feel the blood rushing to his cock at the sight.
“Y/N this isn’t- You know for training you can’t-“ he fumbled. Gwyn giggled, and you rolled your eyes.
“Cassie, it’s like a hundred degrees in here today. You said we weren’t doing hand to hand anyway; what’s the harm in lighter clothing?” You shrugged. He only stared blankly at you, commanding his eyes not to drift past your collarbone.
His hand jerking his cock later that day was the harm in lighter clothing.
He let out soft breaths, leaned back as he sat on the edge of his bed.
He thought about how that tiny little tank top was stretched thin across your generous chest, how his eyes traced over the outline of your bra when you did your warm ups. Gods… how many times he’d ripped thin little things like those off of you, how many times he’d toyed with you, undoing your lacy bras you’d wear just for him…
He kept pumping, thinking about how your tits bounced when he purposefully assigned the group jumping jacks and high knees exercises, and how painful his cock grew during your session.
He thought back to the times he drilled into you on this very bed, your knuckles white on the headboard as he shoved his cock deep inside of you, your screams of pleasure only encouraging him further.
It was borderline torturous today during cool down yoga, watching you in downward dog, your spine arched, your long legs on display. Under your shorts, he could only imagine the panties you had on — maybe his favorite, the glittery kind he could easily slide down your legs with his teeth.
Usually, this was before he would lick your cunt until you shook beneath him, your slick covering his lips and chin.
Had no one else attended training this morning, he honestly would’ve taken you right there; yanked your mini shorts over that perky little ass and drove himself straight inside of you. “You want to tease me? You know what happens when you play around,” he knows you love it when he spanks you-
“Cassie?”
He stilled, his chest heaving as he opened his eyes. Lo and behold, you were before him again. You hadn’t yet changed out of your training attire, and as your eyes trailed over his form on the bed, taking in what he was doing — you closed the door behind you.
“Baby, I-“ he stammers, and you only smirk at him.
“I suppose the new outfit this morning worked, hm?”
Azriel
It was hard, so painfully hard having a mate as beautiful as Azriel. So hard having a mate so beautiful, but was gone so often on missions that you found yourself at times taking care of your needs on your own.
You couldn’t blame him for it, you were quite lucky. But little did you know, he would need to take care of his own twice as much.
On this occasion, it was a case of… well, miscommunication. He was scheduled to be gone on a mission, and you’d told him you would stay the night with Morrigan instead of being alone in your shared home for the evening.
Of course, that was not what happened.
Azriel finished his mission early. He reported to Rhys, flew back home, and was happy to have a night off with rest and relaxation. He even lit candles in the house, for christ sakes.
He knew you were at Mor’s, and though he missed you so much, he didn’t want to take away from girls night. He’d walked in on one once and… well… let’s just say he’d never do it again.
Azriel was padding around the flat, finishing the last few sips of black coffee from his mug when he passed the sapphire door. His steps faltered, only for a moment, and he tipped his mug back to drain it, still eyeing the opened door.
Curiousity, and years of spy work must have gotten the best of him. He sat his mug on the hallway table, pushing against the usually locked door. This room was off limits to everyone, that was, except you and Azriel.
His breath caught in his throat as he made his way through the room, sitting in the plush chair near the center of it.
“Oh…. my…” he breathed. He leaned forward, his gaze flickering between the various vibrators scattering the ground. He stared, feeling unable to move — that was, other than his dick, which began to twitch beneath his leathers.
He continued to gaze, cataloguing which items weren’t in their holding places. Other than the vibrators, there were clamps missing, and maybe-
His cock fucking throbbed. He sat back in the chair, yanking on the ties and binds to free himself from his pants. Finally, finally getting his dick in his hands, he allowed his mind to wander further.
When were you in here alone? It had to be within the last few days, it didn’t look like this before he left. He slid his scarred fingers over his long shaft, thinking of you in this room, the things you’d done together in here. What you’d likely done alone.
“Mmmm,” he grunted, holding himself tighter. He thought of your tight cunt, how he had to work his thick cock into you every. Single. Time. “Fuck,” he muttered. You always looked so beautiful, a gorgeous, ruined mess for him, all tied up on the bed. Gods, the sounds you’d make, how they’d echo off the walls, through the entire house-
“Fuck baby, so tight for me,” he groaned. He usually wasn’t so vocal, preferring to hear you much more instead, but alone… he wished he could talk your ear off. Tell you to play with yourself, right in front of him so he could watch.
Gods, if he were here, watching you cry out against your vibrator thinking about him… there’s no way he would be able to hold back.
“Good girl, good fucking girl, take it, take all of it-“ he sucks in a breath, his gaze snagging on a pair of lacy underwear discarded by the bed. He quickly snatches them up, remembering how they looked last time you’d had them on.
The soft sound of the front door opening and closing pulls Azriel from his haze, immediately tossing the underwear back under the bed. He shoves his dick inside his leathers, groaning as his pants protest against his size. You weren’t even supposed to be back tonight — maybe the plans with Mor fell through.
Within minutes, he’s closing the door as quietly as he can, sure you won’t suspect a thing. He smiles lightly to himself. Hopefully, if you’re home to stay, you’ll be in the mood to finish what he’d already started.
He’s almost halfway down the hallway, heading for the foyer when a cough sounds from behind him — the other end of the hallway. He turns slowly, and sure enough; his eyes meet yours. Only for a moment though; he can’t help but notice the sheer nightie you’ve managed to slip into, breasts pushed up from your hands clasped behind your back.
“Having fun in there by yourself?” You tease, jerking your chin toward the sapphire door across the hall. Azriel doesn’t move a muscle, his thoughts racing.
“H-how did you know I was in there?” He asks, his tone low. You only giggle, taking a few steps toward him and revealing your hands at once. One held his mug, which he hadn’t noticed wasn’t on the hallway table anymore.
“Seems we’ve both forgotten to put our things away, hmm?” You wink. “I’ve lived with the Spymaster long enough to pick up on a few things, Azzie.”
Lucien
With Lucien, things were always *almost* a little more than “friendly”. Sure, you’d been best friends for centuries now, but over time, you’d both begun to realize there was more to it than just being friends.
“It’s truly not that complicated,” Tamlin explained. “She likes you, you’re clearly in love with her — I don’t see where the problem lies?” But, Lucien still only sighed.
“We’ve been friends so long, I just don’t want anything ruined,” he’d explained. That only made his High Lord friend laugh.
“I think it was ruined, my friend, the moment you let your feelings cloud your judgement. Which was a very, very long time ago.”
Honestly, he wasn’t wrong. In your youth, you and Lucien were simply platonic; you’d grown up together, bonded over the horrors you’d both endured and helped each other through, and found comfort in relying on one another.
But over time, that changed. Suddenly, attending Balls and Galas with Lucien sent flutters through your stomach. Going to dinners with him on quiet evenings warmed your heart, and now when he brought you flowers for your table — it felt new, it felt… more.
“Well, aren’t you the loveliest couple Prythian has to offer!”
This would happen often.
One of you, or both, would hastily explain that you’re just best friends. Well, you used to, anyway. Last time the older woman in the market made a comment as such, Lucien just smiled politely and held your hand tighter, continuing on as though nothing happened.
The moment that had tipped it all though… oh boy. You’d been in the kitchen of the manor, baking apple tartlets as autumn was approaching and they were Lucien’s favorite from back home. He had joined you, wanting to learn from someone with such a talent and, honestly he just wanted to spend time with you.
“Okay, next we need flour… Lucie, that’s you,” you whispered the last part, and Lucien snapped out of his daze. His hand dropped from his chin, propping his head up on the counter as he gazed at you from across it.
“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry,” he stood, searching for and grabbing the bag of flour from behind him. You smiled, taking it from him and measuring out a few cup fulls. He resumed his position, looking to you once more.
You met his gaze, your hand stopping midway between the bowl and bag. “Lucien, I thought you wanted to help me,” you said.
“Right, right, I do,” he moved toward you, pushing up the sleeves of his tan waffle-knit sweater as you dumped in another cup. Your breath caught as his hands appeared on either side of you, the sudden feeling of his toned body pressing against your backside lightly ceasing the air from your lungs. You tried to remind yourself to resume your breathing as normal — the steady rise and fall of your shoulders measured now by his chin resting atop your left one.
“Next… we, have two eggs,” you explained. You take them from the carton, and Lucien chuckles behind you, his body so close you can feel every movement and muscle beneath his clothing.
“Allow me,” he says smoothly, his arms caging you in closer along your sides as his hands rest atop yours. “I think I know how to at least do this part.”
You allow yourself a laugh, but it comes out breathless. He does as such, cracking them into the bowl and setting down the shells.
“Alright, now next is… hey!” You squeal, turning to face him in shock. He laughs, his smile radiant as you look down your nose at the dash of flour smeared on it. You reach for the bag, but you’re too slow — Lucien has both of your wrists held tight in an instant, pinning you to the counter with his hips against yours. Your noses are mere inches apart, and he continues grinning.
“Lucien, this isn’t-“ He doesn’t let you get another word in before he smushes his lips against yours, and you instinctively soften against him. Years, you’d waited years for this — the feel of him against you, his lips touching yours. All of those almosts, all the lingering touches, all of the sleepovers and hugs that went on too long, all those times your hand held his.
Now that he’d had you once, he only wanted more.
Which was why he sat in his favorite spring meadow now, trying to clear his head.
He couldn’t.
He only thought of you.
You, in all your beauty. The way your hair would always fall perfectly around your face. How you felt, your soft lips pressed against his. How your body, he was so careful to protect, felt pressed against him that day. He hated how hard his cock was just thinking of your ass pressed against him.
When he’d caught you off guard and finally kissed you… Gods, you’d look so lovely laid across the counter, wrists held above your head in his grip. He’d worship you and kiss every inch of you if you’d let him. Tartlets be damned; he’s sure you’d taste even better.
He was smiling to himself in the afternoon light when the most beautiful voice made itself heard before him.
“I can only wonder what you’re dreaming about to have such…” You playfully tease, your sentence trailing off. His eyes fly open, and he sits upright, looking at you and trying to find some kind of response.
“No! No, I uh, was just drifting off, just lounging here, against this uh…” he pats the fallen tree trunk behind him.
“…wood?” You finish. He shakes his head slowly, a smile creeping onto his lips. You giggle, dropping to your knees before him and adjusting your skirt around you. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and he blushed.
“Well, tell me what you were thinking, then? Maybe I’ve thought of things similar.”
Eris
It was a beautiful morning — perfect for the horseback ride Eris had planned with you that day. He knew you had a few duties to tend to into the evening, and he wanted to squeeze in a little alone time beforehand if he could. You were more than happy to oblige.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen the leaves this red so soon in the season before,” you pointed out, looking around the autumn grove in wonder. Eris looked too, his focus landing on you once more like it had countless times already that morning. He knew, of course his mate was gorgeous, but… you were truly getting the best of him today.
“Maybe the season is getting longer,” he said absentmindedly, watching how your hips moved forward and back as your horse trotted along. Fuck, if you didn’t have obligations clogging your schedule later today, he’d have you off that horse and sitting on him instead. Gods what he’d give to feel that tight, pulsing cunt throbbing on his awaiting dick-
“Ooh! Eris look! Those are honeycrisp!” You said excitedly. “We have to get some, your mother has been looking everywhere for these.” Eris mentally kicked himself for being such a … guy. He was so happy just to spend time with you right now, and of course his mind was going to sex when his absolute gift of a mate was innocently noticing the apples dangling from the trees, thinking of others while his mind was only thinking of you.
Then again, he only ever seemed to think of you.
“Anything for you, dear.” You flashed him a smile then, and his spirits lifted higher. He led his mare toward the trees, sliding off and tying the reigns as you slowly approached behind him. You were shorter than him, and though you had enough courage for the entire Autumn court, you didn’t mind a gentle helping hand every once in a while. You handed your mate your own reigns, watching as he tied them to a branch as you also made to de-saddle.
His strong hands slid around your waist, firmly placed on either side as he hoisted you from the animal with ease and set you gently on the ground in front of him. You grinned up at him then, your hands still on his shoulders as a sudden rush went through you. You couldn’t help but remember the excitement you’d felt all those years ago when he was but a simple schoolgirl crush to you; that feeling remaining even now that you’re mated to the Autumn heir.
“I love you,” he said then, his one hand cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned into him, his hands roaming over your body as you felt his pants tighten slightly against your stomach. You chuckled, breaking for air before he got too many ideas.
“Apples?” You suggested. He nodded, swallowing thickly, but you could see the lust swelling in his irises. Once all your tasks were done today, you were sure you’d be seeing more of this side of him later tonight. “Apples,” he agreed.
The Lady of Autumn was more than thrilled with the discoveries you and Eris had come back with, her gratitude for the both of you evident before she bid the both of you goodbye. Watching you go, even for a few hours felt like torture for Eris. He shook his head, cursing the dirty thoughts racing through his mind — but they wouldn’t stop.
They surely didn’t stop as he sat before the fireplace at sunset, lazily sipping the last remnants of whisky from his glass as he scanned over the court’s weekly newsletter. The words were a blur; he was just passing the time and waiting for you to come home. Waiting to get his hands on you again.
Gods, your lips had tasted so good this morning, so warm against the cool air of the grove. Fuck, that little waist… when he’d had you the other night, bent over on the bed, fucking himself into you relentlessly, his hands gripping your smooth skin-
He wasn’t sure when he set down his glass, or when his paper hit the floor, but his fingers were now gliding over his cock, throbbing with need. His head rolled back, short breaths coming out between his parted lips.
The way your body moved this morning… he let out a soft groan. He thought of you, sitting on his lap, the fire casting a golden glow around you, bouncing up and down on his length. You didnt need any other fire — you emitted light yourself, everything you did, everywhere you went. You were the sun itself.
“Y/N…” he sucked in a breath, yanking on his cock. He thought about the tiny lingerie you’d wear for him, how he could pull it down over your tits and take one of your nipples between his teeth as you rode him harder…
His groans were cut short as a soft, familiar mouth met his, and he slowed his strokes but smiled into the kiss in realization. You pulled back an inch, a few tendrils of your hair tickling his neck and shoulders as you leaned over the couch above him, taking the scene in fully.
“Did you miss me?”
Tamlin
The sharp knock at the door startled him, his gaze drifting from the reports on his desk to the entrance of his study.
“It’s nearly ten thirty, Sir,” Alis peeked her head in. “I’m going to turn in for the night, unless there was anything else you needed.” Tamlin’s eyes widened in realization, and he looked at the wall clock for confirmation. Sure enough, 10:27 p.m. He sighed heavily.
“No, no, I’m quite alright Alis. Tell me, has Y/N turned in already?” He asked. His heart clenched as he tugged on the bond with no response. He’d told you he would be done with these reports hours ago, but, per usual to no avail. He hated disappointing you.
“I haven’t seen her since nine, Sir.” Alis said. He only nodded, and she closed the door quietly. Tamlin rubbed his eyes, shuffling his files into neat stacks and flicking off his table side lamp before heading toward the master bedroom.
Upon entering, his heart dropped even more. Of course you’d gone to bed, why wait up? He’d done this before. Promised to be done with work only to stay awake for hours into the night, not giving you the attention you’d deserved from him.
You. His mate.
His mate that, upon further inspection, must have believed he would finish on time tonight. You’d fallen asleep in a petal-laden lingerie set, barely leaving anything to the imagination. Tamlin’s lips pressed into a thin line — it was one of his favorites. Now he really felt bad.
Not only did he feel bad… he felt horny.
He stepped as quickly and quietly as he could across the hall toward the master bathroom, closing the door and leaning against the sink.
His chest heaved, and he stared at himself in the mirror, his cock growing harder and harder in his pants. He needed a shower, now.
He flipped the water on, allowing the steam to cloud in the bathroom before he cracked open the door to the hallway, just an inch so some of the hot air could filter out. The moonlight illuminated the space enough through the window — he avoided turning on the lights.
It was only after he’d stripped and gotten into the warm water that he’d started fisting his cock.
Images of you played in his mind, some recent, some from the past. The first time you’d made love in the garden — you had daisy petals all through your hair, your back bridging as it arched in pleasure while he ate you out. Gods, you tasted so sweet — sweeter than any honey Tamlin had ever tasted, in his court or beyond it.
His free hand braced against the cool tile of the shower wall, his other running along his thick length faster.
The images burned into his brain of you laid out on his desk — one he’d been spending so much time at lately with his stupid papers — your mouth open, crying out his name as he worked your clit with his fingers.
Your hands felt so good tangled in his hair… he’d missed that so much, he knew it was his own damn fault for not giving you enough of really anything lately.
“Gods Y/N,” he gritted out, his teeth clenched. The warm water ran over the defined muscles of his back, a reminder, but not quite as exact as the feeling of your fingers on him during those nights of the frenzy. That’s when you’d gotten that adorable, flowery little number anyway that you were wearing now — were you asking to be fucked like that, again?
He groaned at the thought, biting his lip in anticipation. The way you’d looked, so peaceful and delicate, your hair laid prettily on your pillow — but he knew.
Every once in a while, you wanted him crazy. You didn’t want nice, gentle, garden love-making. You wanted mating-bond, frenzy-crazed, sex. The kind that had you once drenching the sheets with your cum, squirting from you as your mate pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. The kind that had you shaking as you sat on his face, his nose nudging your clit as his tongue played in your folds.
“FUCK,” Tamlin swore, pumping his dick so hard, feeling his release building, imagining your tongue on him instead, your awaiting mouth and beautiful, round eyes gazing up at him from the floor…
“Looking for somewhere to, finish?” You asked, stepping lightly into the shower behind him. Tamlin stilled, his face flushing at being caught in the act.
“I… sweetheart I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I-“
“You didn’t,” You interjected, crossing your arms beneath your breasts. Tamlin’s cock jerked, his eyes roaming hungrily over your naked body. The cute outfit was something, yes, but your body, just you — now that was something he’d prefer over anything.
“…but I wish you would have.” You raised an eye brow at him.
His eyes darkened at your words and he chuckled, looking to the floor and shaking his head slowly.
“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to last very long-“
“Try me,” you challenged, stepping forward as his gaze met yours. “We haven’t yet done it in the shower.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚
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honeymoon!kento , fem!reader, suggestive content !! minors dni pls <3
A cruel icy chill licked its way up your spine coaxing a soft, sleepy groan from your tired body. You hand blindly tapped around you, trying to find the hem of your blanket so you could warm yourself up but before you could find it you felt the warmth of it enveloping your figure before an even warmer touch ran itself down from your arm to the dip of your waist.
You felt a soft blush kiss your cheeks as you thought about who would be touching you so gently.
Your husband Kento Nanami placed a soft kiss to your temple, smiling down at your sleepy figure next to him. Your face was squished against your pillow, hair tousled and a soft pink adorning your sleep puffed cheeks. Truly a work of art, he couldn’t help but think.
You felt him run his hand the curve of your hip before placing itself firmly on the soft plush of your thigh causing your leg to twitch involuntarily.
“You awake yet, darling?” He asked you softly, placing another kiss to your temple as you stirred. “Mmm,” you murmured in response, trying to find the energy to turn to face him but the newfound heat from both his touch and the fluffy blanket had you lulling in and out of consciousness. How desperately you wanted to take in your husband in all his morning glory - after all, it was the first night after your wedding. The events of last night flooding your memory causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies and yet another burning heat dancing its way across your cheeks. The image of his blissed out face, his hot touch and passionate kisses. You’d lost track of how long you devoted yourselves to each other - your soreness and exhaustion now making far more sense. You were wiped out.
And yet, the desire to see your devastatingly handsome husband overrode that exhaustion. Your eyes fluttered open, body aching as you looked up at Kento. He smiled down at you again causing your heart to ache with adoration. How lucky you felt to see him like this. Hair messy, cheeks pink, lips still red and swollen from your hot kisses and his own teeth gnawing at the soft flesh in an attempt to muffle his saccharine noises.
Your eyes trailed down to his neck, adorned with semi-permanent kisses and nail indentations. Trailing lower, your eyes widened at the scratches along his strong pectoral muscles. Your fingers gently traced the marks brows furrowing in concern. “D’ya run into a werewolf last night, my love?” You cooed, running your hand up towards his neck causing a rush of goosebumps to trail up to where your hand met his jugular.
“Mm, more like my gorgeous, insatiable wife.” He all but purred reaching up to cover your hand with his. You grinned bashfully up at him before whining and hiding your face in the pillows.
“Ah, don’t hide from me, beautiful.” he sighed, reaching over to place his hand on the back of your neck, coaxing you to look back up at him through your lashes. “There ya are.” heather murmured leaning down to place a soft kiss onto your lips.
“I made you some breakfast, dear. Do you want to eat in the kitchen or would you like me to bring you your plate?” Your lips parted in shock. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Kento to make you breakfast in bed, but for some reason you expected him to just call in room service or order in - you hadn’t even gotten groceries so he’d clearly been up much earlier than you expected.
“Ken, you didn’t have to do that!” You whined, fingers curling around his bicep. He only kissed your forehead before running his hand down from the back of your neck to your arm and then taking your hand that had previously been gripping his bicep and placing a kiss on your knuckles. “Can’t have my pretty little wife eating room service after such working so hard for me last night… What kinda husband would I be if I let that happen?” He all but scoffed, smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he watched you blush at the mention of last night.
“Ken,” you groaned shaking your head but not being able to resist the smile playing at your lips.
“Can we eat here?” You asked, not really wanting to leave the warmth of your bed quite yet. Though you didn’t really think you could if the ache in your legs was anything to consider.
“Breakfast in bed it is.” He nodded, squeezing your hand in his before standing.
You couldn’t help but ogle him as he stepped out. Shirtless and stunningly gorgeous under the golden rays of sunlight peeking into your bedroom as if also wanting to sneak even the tiniest of glimpses at your darling husband.
He came back quick enough with a wooden tray full of an array of delicious foods. Eggs, toast, both pancakes and waffles in case you couldn’t decide (he’d eat whichever you didn’t want), hash-browns and of course your favorite warm beverage accompanied by his usual plain black coffee. You couldn’t help but giggle at the mugs he had used, white and simple with big red cursive letters spelling out Mr. and Mrs. You remember giggling at Satoru’s proud face as you opened his engagement gift to you.
“Now ya don’t even need to tell people you’re married! Just bring these to work everyday! I’m the best aren’t I?” He had cackled, clapping his hands in a self-congratulatory manor. Kento had only rolled his eyes at him, telling him that the ring around your fingers would be more than enough but you knew he secretly loved the idea of the mugs.
Clearly.
“Looks delicious, Husband.” You murmured as he set the mugs down on the bedside table before taking a seat next to you on the bed. You had managed to sit up while he went to get the food, only struggling slightly with the soreness between your legs.
“Hope it’s as delicious as it looks, Wife.” He grinned, placing a gentle kiss to your lips before greedily placing three more; one the side of your mouth, your cheek and then a final one on your lips once more.
You had breakfast in relative silence, a comfortable one full of shy smiles and lingering stares. You understood what honeymoon phase meant now, it felt like everything - every touch, every glance, every word was dipped in honey. Your heart fluttered like it did when you first started dating - though you can’t really remember a time when it had ever stopped or wavered. With Kento in your life, it seemed like everything was rose colored and bright. You could guess due to your recent wedding the feelings had only been amplified. A new big step; a new milestone in your relationship. It only made you giddy for what was to come but at the same time, you wanted to bask in whatever this feeling was. After all, you had the rest of your life together.
#husband nanami … save me husband nanami ….#hehehe hope u like it 😽 make sure to hit that subscribe button and SMASH the like chat ! 😼#kento fluff#kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk scenarios
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warnings: pregnancy, mentions of vomit, i think this is cuteeeeee
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it was a cold december morning when your world completely changed.
the two faint lines on the pregnancy test confirmed all your doubts, finally finding an answer to your nausea, headaches and dizziness that you had for more than two weeks.
the realization washes over you in waves, equal parts joy and disbelief but full of joy. you tocuh your stomach softly, still flat but a soft smile spreads accross your face. this tiny secret, this fragile beginning on a new life is yours to treasure for now.
but, you don't want to keep it a secret for long. you think of kei - his quiet strenght, the way his guarded exterior softens when it is just the two of you and of course, his desire to be a dad.
you have been with kei for nearly a decade, having met him at university. even since then, he had made it clear that, between his future goals, having a family was a priority for him and, as you grew older, his idea didn't seem to change.
you want to tell him in a way he'll never forget.
a week laater, the perfect opportunity present itself. kei's mom calls one morning, asking if you can help her tidy up the attich ahead of the holiday season, as well as keeping an eye on you.
"kei says you have been feeling sick lately."
"oh, he's just exaggerating, i'm perfectly fine!" you answer into the phone. "but yeah! i would love to help you."
when you arrive that same afternoon, she greets you warmly, leading you up the creaky stairs with a smile. as you walk through kei's childhood bedroom, your eyes water at the image of a little baby having a room just like his but you save your tears and go up.
the place smells of old wood due to the amount of furniture they have been saving for years and you quickly set to work, sorting through different christmas decorations and boxes alongside her.
it isn't long before you open a box filled with old books. kei's mum smiles softly, telling you stories of some of the books, telling you anecdotes of akiteru's and kei's childhood.
"oh!" kei's mom exclaims, face lighting up as she holds up a worn-out book. the cover is faded, edges frayed and it is clear that it was a well-loved book.
"kei adored this book as a kid!" she turns the book around -The Velveteen Rabbit. "he asked me to read it every single night and would sob whenever i tried to pick up another book. he was fascinated by the idea of toys becoming real through love."
you let out a soft "aw" and pick up the book.
"he would say hello and goodbye to his toys every single day and he would sleep next to them, ugh, so cute." she laughs. "one time, he kissed his stuffed dinasour and told me it would protect me while he was at school and he even left it on the kitchen counter a few times so the dinosaur would look at me." she smiles. "he was my cute little boy. still is, i guess."
"he is truly the sweetest."
"i'm glad he has you, really." she states, giving you a quick look at you keep flipping through the pages of the book. "you make him really happy."
"he makes me happy too."
you smile. warmth blooming in your chest at the image of a young kei, so small and full of energy. it's in that attic, surrounded by the stories of his childhood, that the idea comes to you.
a few days after, you take a different route home, finding yourself in the main street of the city, browsing through the different children's bookstores to find a pristine new copy of The Velveteen Rabbit and after many failed attempts, you enter the last bookstore. your eyes browse the shelves, browing through the different titles, completely dissapointed about the fact that it seems to be out of stock.
"mayi help you?"
you quickly turn to look at the young girl wearing a cute uniform and a big book of books.
"yes! is there any chance that you have a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit? i've been looking everywhere."
"actually, we just got a book restock of new editions." your eyes widen at her words,and you feel like you could cry of happiness. "it includes a little rabbit plush." the girl leaves the giant box she was carrying on the floor and opens it, showing you its contents.
the book is included in a beautiful box filled with rabbit decorations and you can see the cutest little plush you have everd seen in your life.
"could i get one?"
"yes, of course! let me ring you up if you are done."
--------
on christmas' day eye, you feel like you could die of nerves. the day had started out in the worst way possible, with you vomiting everything that dared to enter your mouth. apart from that, you had been feeling extremely tired and dizzy, which worried kei to death, he had never seen you this sick and he couldn't understand wy you were so persistent on not visiting the doctor's office.
"maybe we should just stay home. my family will understand"
"no! i swear i'm fine."
"you've been really sick lately, i'm worried."
"you don't have to worry about it." you say, getting comfy under the blanket in the sofa, the rubbish bin right next to you in case you couldn't make it to the toilet. "i had a really big breakfast and maybe that's why my stomach is acting up."
"you ate an apple for breakfast."
"kei, my love." you run a hand through his hair and he sighs, closing his eyes for a second. "you don't need to worry."
"i...." he opens his eyes again, sending you a glare. "i feel like you are hiding something."
"what? why would i?"
"i don't know, you've been acting really weird this past couple of weeks." he answers, holding your hand and kissing it. "you've stopped drinking coffee."
"i'm changing my habits."
"uh-huh." kei kisses your lips softly. "whatever you say, pretty."
"i'm just..." pregnant. "nervous about tonight."
"what about tonight?"
"presents and everything. you know i always want them to be perfect."
kei smiles, kissing you once again. "you always get the best presents. no need to worry."
you nod, thinking about the perfectly wrapped box hidden in your closet and pray that it is indeed, the best present.
----
as night falls, the tsukishima household grows quiet, everyone sleeping in their respective beds except for you and kei, who always enjoy having a cup of hot chocolate as you relax in the sofa.
"i love this." kei says softly, putting ar arm around you, holding you closer to his chest. "i love spending christmas with you."
you smile, kissing him slowly for a few seconds before you pull away.
"i actually... i want to give you a present now."
"oh?" kei's eyebrow rises and a playful smirk makes its way to his face. "baby, my whole family is here."
"it's not that, you perv!" you hit his chest playfully and stand up to grab the small package under the tree, your heart pounding as you give it to him. "i hope you like it."
he smiles as he unwraps it, peeling back the paper until the book and toy are revealed.
he pauses, his expression unreadable as his eyes take in the title.
"how...?"
then, he opens the cover.
Can’t wait for Dad to read this to me! See you next July! <3
kei's breath catches and his gaze flickers to you, wide. "what? is this...?"
you nod, tears gathering your eyes. "we're having a baby."
his lips part but no words come. instead, his hands begin to tremble and his eyes grow misty. slowly, he sets the book aside, reaching for you, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he was afraid of letting you go.
"i..." his voice craks as he pressed his face into your shoulder, hands roaming your back. "i'm so happy. the happiest i've ever been."
you giggle, stroking his hair as he cries softly.
"i knew you were hiding something from me." he laughs, kissing your neck. "i... holy shit."
he pulls backs just enough to look at you and you swoon at the sight of his teary face. softly, you clean his tears with your thumb and kiss his cheeks before he cups your face in his hands, leaning to kiss you tenderly.
when he finally rests his forehead against yours, he smile. "thank you," he whispers. "for this."
you wrap your arms around him, holding him close. as the night goes on kei asks you questions and, obviously, freaks out at the realization that he is going to be a father, you know that you've given him the best gift he could ever receive and that, even when you were still at the beginning of this long journey of becoming parents, he had given you the best gift he could ever give you: unconditional love.
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I mean, it can’t hurt, right? Just… as an experiment. Yes, an experiment! I have been practicing a lot lately, after all. If someone had told me how hard it is to actually edge, to reach that perfect point and just… stop, I’m not sure I would have started doing it. But I AM getting better at it! If he could see me it would be sooo… but I’ll have another session soon, and I want to be able to tell him that I’m doing it, I’m following the program, that I’m doing well in therapy for once, that unlike all those other hacks he made me better…
I’m tired, and I know it’s harder for me to hold back when I’m tired… but at the same time I have to be able to control myself. That’s what he said. It’s all about impulse control or something… and if I fail and go over? No, I can’t be too hard on myself. But at the same time he would be disappointed. I don’t want to imagine that. Not that he ever tells me he is disappointed, but I can tell. I could almost imagine him looking so sad the few times I accidentally came… I need to make him proud. I need to train more. Sure, I have to work tomorrow but one edge, just the one…
Fuck, I love social media. It’s like… the algorithm knows how to push me deeper and deeper… and I feel less alone, knowing there are so many people gooning and edging and encouraging one another. To think I was ashamed of the stuff I liked before! Like, admitting that watching a girl being spanked turned me on would get me red like a tomato. Now… a spanking does nothing for me. I need more, and the screen delivers. It’s so fucking good to see so many good girls, drooling and edging like me and writing on their skins what willing fuckholes they are… The words come to me and I’m muttering them… cunt… useless toy… living cumrag… I’m not sure I can stop myself from mumbling anymore. I watch them smile before getting their stupid mouths fucked by a huge cock, shutting them up and turning them into the useful dolls they are…
Jesus! That was close. I didn’t expect to hit the edge so quickly! My pussy must be more sensitive lately. Makes sense. Two weeks without cumming is a long time… but he looked so proud of me last session… no way I can throw that away for a moment of relief. I’m in control. Not my body. Me.
Okay, I did it. Time to get some much needed rest.
Fuck…
Turning in bed. My cunt is soaked and it’s insistent, demanding. I have to work tomorrow. I can’t… I put my pillow between my legs. I don’t know why I feel like it will calm my pussy down a bit. I’m making no sense. Fuck, thinking that made me wetter. I’m making no sense. I’m dumb. I’m stupid. I’m just a horny bitch in heat…
My hips move on their own. I’m not entirely awake, not entirely asleep. I’m almost… not there. Like I’m just watching my needy body hump the pillow, like I’m merely a passenger and my stupid, horny body is taking over…
No. No. I’m in control. I won’t cum. I won’t…
That was too close. Much too close. But I did it. I stopped right at the edge. I didn’t cum.
I was a good girl.
Good girls edge. That’s not something the therapist said. At least I don't think so. I saw it online. But he explained edging to me, so he must want me to be a good girl for him, right? No, that’s silly. He’s a professional. He’s teaching me control. I want to learn from him. I want to be a good girl for him. I want him to…
It’s two in the morning already. Time slipped by like… like it was soaked by my pussy juices. I like that image. My needy cunt is so permanently wet even time gets slick. I might be going crazy. I need to snap back to reality. I need to focus. Tomorrow I have to work, and I’m already going to be running on like, five hours of sleep.
Well, I’m going to be fucked tomorrow either way, right? Not much difference between five hours of sleep and four. And I do have a few audios saved…
One more edge. That’ll be all.
God, I love how audios make me feel. As soon as I put the headphones on and that low, barely audible pulsing sound comes on, I can feel a tingle snake all over my skin. And her voice… It’s so soft, so gentle, so caring… and so desperate at the same time. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to her, but it always makes me feel… like she’s holding me. Guiding me. Telling me what I am. What I could be. What I should be.
I know I’m saying the words out loud. I couldn’t stop myself from doing it even if I wanted to anymore. The girl in the audio and me, we are one and the same. I can’t tell where the audio ends and my mind begins. Her words are my words. The only part of me that remains is the watchful eye that’s always alert now, always ready to pounce and stop me from going over the edge.
Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier. Edging makes me prettier. Edging makes me more obedient. Edging makes me a slave to my cunt. Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier…
I can feel him railing me in his office. I can taste his cum on my tongue. I can see the pleasure in his eyes, the way it gives me purpose…
Shit! That fantasy almost got me. I can’t be the only one that thinks about their therapist that way, right? No, no judgment. No shame. That’s what he says, so surely he wouldn’t begrudge me a little kinky fantasy starring him…
I wonder if I should tell him. Fuck, that would be amazing. To look into his eyes and tell him every detail that my mind conjured up, how I want him to take over my mind, to tell me what to think, what to wear… who to be.
Twenty past four in the morning. Four-twenty. I should sleep, but come on. Timing’s too good. One joint, one more edge, and that will be it. Weed always makes edging better, anyway. I feel so… happy. I don’t have another word for it. Bubbly. Happy. Slutty. Maybe I should make someone else happy like me…
I should probably buy like, a mask or something, just to be safe. But I don’t have one now and I want them to see all of me… I want every inch of my body to be porn, to make someone happy… It doesn’t matter who. I need to be useful. I go on the website.
I blame the lack of sleep and the weed. I’m not dumb. I’m… it’s just… good girls are porn. Fuck, that feels good to say. I log on and…
There it is. Of course, first try. A stiff cock. I can’t see the owner’s face, and I don’t care to. I vaguely remember a time when I would have felt disgusted. Now I can’t think at all. Mu pussy clenches in anticipation, and my hand rubs it softly, insistently. We share the moment in perfect peace, masturbating as one, both mindless and entranced by our own bodies…
Suddenly, the fear comes. I want to be useful. I want… I need to make that cock cum. That’s my purpose. That’s all I want to be. But what if I can’t? How can I know exactly what kind of slut this cock wants to cum to? What if I’m not… good enough?
Then, the man starts typing and the fear melts away, replaced by a warm blanket of peace. He tells me what to do. Suddenly, I don’t need to try anymore. I don’t need to think. I don’t need to worry. I don’t need to be anything but an extension of that wonderful cock. I don’t think I even read the words in any meaningful way. They bypass my brain and go straight to my body, and obedience is instantaneous.
I’m on all fours, stretching my buttcheeks apart, struggling to look at the screen. I want to see it. I want to feel worthy.
I barely catch myself. Seeing it tense up, hearing his moan, seeing his cock shoot cum for me, just for me… it almost makes me break my edge. I feel… proud. I feel perfect, as if I’ve found the exact corner of the universe that exists just for me to occupy, that wonderful purpose… He ends the video chat quickly. Maybe he’s embarrassed. It only shows me the dangers of cumming. Cumming brings bad thoughts. But edging…
Dawn arrives. I’ve been… away. I’ve become whoever, whatever the person on the other side of the screen needs me to be. I’m fuzzy. I know I’ve called someone daddy and begged him to sneak into my room at night… I know one woman made me spank myself with my hairbrush until I cried, and she came to my tears. I think I danced for a group of older men, but I can’t be sure. Maybe I… fell asleep at some point? I don’t know. Nothing feels real. I don’t feel real. I feel like a beautiful fiction.
The alarm goes off. I should shower. Have a coffee. Go to work. Be a person.
Sure, I’ll do all those things. I just need one more edge to start the day…
Just one more…
I know I’ll have an amazing therapy session in two days.
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu
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Picture You *˚:✧。Beomgyu
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ boyfriend! Beomgyu x fm!reader
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Summary: As you try and navigate long distance it all may just be come too much for you and Beomgyu.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Fluff and angst!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Author's note: Yeah idk lowkey this kinda hurt me 😭 also not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes!!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Masterlist
--
It had been six months. Six months since you had made the difficult decision to move for work. The air is bitter as it bites against your exposed skin, the wind pushing you backward. The sky is an endless sea of gray, and the leaves crunch against your hurried steps as you walk. Six months since you left Beomgyu and your old relationship behind, forcing you both to navigate long distance. You pull your phone out of your pocket and check the time. He was going to call you soon. You pick up the pace rushing to get home to free yourself of the cold and to save yourself from missing him any longer.
Finally, you reach your front door fumbling with the keys as you unlock it and push the door open. Suddenly you hear the familiar tones of a ringtone start playing from your pocket. It’s Beomgyu. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest. Not bothering to hang up your bag or coat you run to your room tripping over your own feet. Entering your bedroom you sit at your desk slightly out of breath and cheeks warm. You take a deep breath before you accept the call.
As you swipe to accept the call Beomgyu’s face fills your screen, soft brown eyes and hair longer than you remember barely brushing the top of his eyes. His gaze shifts as he’s looking at the screen, his whole face lighting up–eyes sparkling and a blinding smile gracing his lips.In an instant the anxiety and ache of missing him disappears.
“Hey baby.” His grin spreads wider taking over his whole face. Your heart tightens against your chest.
“Hi Gyu,” you say, forcing a smile hoping he won’t notice. You pause and quickly add, “How was your day today? I know it’s still pretty early there but how’s it going?” You shift your eyes away from the screen, refusing to meet his gaze as if it will stop him from seeing through your facade.
Beomgyu tilts his head in confusion, watching you closely. “Well nothing really, just my usual morning you know? Breakfast, work and thinking about you…”
You feel a smile tug at your lips, heart fluttering at his words but just as the heaviness you’ve been carrying in your heart returns. “He’s not here.” You remind yourself. He’s nothing more than just a screen with the image of the boyfriend who you miss so dearly.
“I miss you, you know?” You admit, and silence feels the room. There was something so vulnerable about the way you said it that made Beomgyu pause. His expression softens almost instantly and you feel your heart start to grow heavy. You continue, lifting the heaviness of your previous confession “I mean just the long-distance thing, it’s hard.” You give a dry laugh, a poor attempt at trying to ease the ache in your heart.
“I know baby, but we can get through this…I promise” He says quietly. His tone was no longer playful and silly but it had a more serious edge to it. “I miss you too, everyday.” He’s trying to reassure you. You can feel the genuinity and vulnerability in his words as they register. You know he’s hurting too.
You want his words to be comforting to you, you truly wished that his words alone could give you the reassurance you're looking for but to you they’re just words. They can’t hold you and tell you it’s all okay, they can’t kiss away your pain and they certainly can’t erase the undeniable distance between you and him. You can feel yourself slipping away with each passing moment.
You let out a sigh. “I just wish you were here,” you try and keep your tone calm and even but ultimately fail letting the last few words out in a shaky breath. You force your eyes shut not wanting your tears to fall especially in front of Beomgyu. “It’s so hard being here without you.” Your voice wavering with each word, heart breaking as you finally release your feelings that have been bubbling inside begging for air.
Silence fills the call. You open your eyes, confusion prominent on your face as you take in Beomgyu’s lack of a reply. Once your gaze lands on his face it isn't as soft and warm, there is a certain hardness to it and you notice his clenched jaw. You feel your chest begin to tighten.
He lets out a long sigh. “You think this isn’t hard for me too?” The warmth in his tone has vanished. The sharpness of his words cuts into you like a knife. You’re taken aback.
“Well I–” you hesitate, searching for the right words to say. “I didn’t say it wasn’t hard for you, I’m just talking about me..” With each word you say, your voice gets smaller, feeling embarrassed. “Were you acting like a child?”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah it seems we talk an awful lot about how you feel.” His hard gaze turns to you through the camera. “Do you even care about how I feel? Because you sure don’t show it.”
“Beomgyu–” Before you can get another word in, he’s cutting you off. Anger evident in his voice as each word harsher than the one before.
“No, let me talk,” he snaps. You flinch back in your seat, eyes glued to him on your phone screen. “Everytime we talk it’s always about you. How hard this is for you. Do you ever stop and think about how this might be hard for me too? That I miss you just as much? How could you when you don’t even bother asking.”
His words hit you like a slap to the face. You feel your throat tighten as you hit with a wave of emotions.
“That’s not fair–” you say, words trembling with a mix of guilt and anger. “I do care about how you feel but anytime I ask, all you do is brush me off and act like it’s all no big deal, Do you know what that says to me?” You feel anger rising in your own body as you start to feel frustrated by his lack of understanding.
“Here we go again with the ‘you’. It’s always about you.” He mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Well what am I supposed to say? I’m doing everything I can, and it’s still not enough, clearly. What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know!” You shout back. Tears well up in your eyes registering the gravity of the argument. The first argument you’ve had since you both started long distance. “I just don’t know anymore. I just wish things could be the way they were. I hate this. I hate this because it feels like I’m losing you Beomgyu.” You look at him hoping to see his face soften as he gives in to comfort you but all you're met with is his harsh gaze.
“Well maybe you’re the one pushing me away.” He says coldly. “Maybe if you weren’t so caught up in feeling miserable, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
You hold your breath, feeling like you’ve been punched in the gut. “W–what?” Tears gloss over your vision turning Beomgyu into a blurry mess.
“Just…everytime we talk all you do is look for reasons to be upset and the only reason we agreed to do this was because we were supposed to handle being apart from each other.” He sighs. “But every time we talk it’s all you can ever talk about. You just can’t focus on anything else.”
The tears finally spill over streaming down your face. “I’m just struggling…I miss you so much and I don’t know how to pretend everything is fine when it’s not.” Sobs are racking your body struggling to keep the tears from falling.
“I get that it’s hard because I’m not trying to say that it’s easy,” His tone softens ever so slightly but it keeps a frustrated edge. “But you just dwell on it. I just wish you would try and focus on something other than how much you miss me. I miss you too but I’m trying to make this easier. I’m trying to make this work.” He grimaces as he speaks, hating himself for making you cry.
“I’m doing my best.” You wail unable to keep a level head and steady tone.
“Y/N I know that this might suck to hear, but that's just it, you’re not trying.” He lets out another frustrated sigh. “It feels like you’ve already given up.”
“I haven’t given up,” you sob. “Maybe things are just harder for me.” You hiccup, wiping the tears from your face. Your eyes are all puffy and nose stuffed from your tears.
“It’s killing me too Y/N!” He snaps. “I struggle here without you too. We’re in this relationship together. I have days where all I want to do is hold you and kiss you but you know what these calls are what I look forward to because at least I’m lucky enough to see and hear your voice. I cherish what we have. I don’t sit here and dwell on what we don’t.” He’s yelling now, his eyebrows furrowed as he continuously runs his hands down his face and through his hair in frustration.
“Beomgyu–” you stammer.
“You know what, I can’t do this right now.” His cold voice cuts you off. “I need a break.”
“Wait, please–” you say, voice breaking.
Before you can get another word in, the call cuts off and Beomgyu disappears from your screen and all you can see is your own reflection. Red eyed and tired. His last words repeat in your head and a small part of you wants to call him back to settle this but you know the last thing he wants is to hear your voice.
You wipe your tear stained cheek and get up from your desk with a shaky sigh. You move towards your bed grabbing your blanket and wrapping yourself in it but not before throwing yourself on your bed. You curl into yourself struggling to find any sense of comfort.
As you lay there, the silence deafening, the weight of everything hits you all at once. The loneliness, the distance, and the lack of him by your side. It’s all too much.
Eventually you let your eyes close ignoring the continuous stream of tears down your cheeks hoping that when you wake up things will be better.
–
The next morning comes too soon. The sun reaches in from your blinds and you slowly blink awake and without even looking you can tell that your eyes are entirely swollen. Once your mind has registered that it’s morning your hands fly around your bed looking for your phone. You bring it to your face, stomach filling with butterflies hoping to see a message from Beomgyu but almost immediately you are left with disappointment as you see nothing. No message, no call.
You sit up in your bed feeling the uncertainty gnaw at you. You try and take your mind off of things scrolling through social media endlessly but everything you see is just a blur feeling so distant and irrelevant. You close out of your social media and go to your photos torturing yourself with photos of you and him together over the years. Doing nothing but making the ache in your heart worse.
Hours pass and you do nothing but lay in your bed staring at old pictures of Beomgyu the pain of missing him never relenting. You have his contact open on your phone finger hovering over the call button. You want nothing more than to call him but you know that he wants nothing to do with you right now. But, the silence between you is too unbearable. You press the call button heart racing. You bring the phone to your ear listening to the rings from the other end.
Just after three rings you hear the unfamiliar sound of his voicemail.
“Hey it’s Beomgyu..leave a message.”
Your heart sinks as you listen to his automated message, disappointed that he didn’t answer. Before you have the chance to hang up you hear the sound of a beep. You freeze, silence hanging in the air before you muster the courage to speak. “Hey…” you tremble. “I know you must not want to talk right now, but I–I don’t want to leave things like this..” You pause swallowing hard. “I know I messed up but I miss you..I miss us..Please call me..” You hit the end button and let out a shaky sigh. You lay back down staring at the blank ceiling. Now all that’s left to do is wait.
–
It wasn’t until noon the next day that you received any acknowledgement from Beomgyu. You’re sitting at your desk after throwing yourself into your work when you receive a text message.
Gyu - We need to talk. Can I call you later?
Your heart almost beats out of your chest as you send a reply.
Y/N - Of course, whenever you’re ready
Hours pass before your phone rings and his contact lights up your screen. You let out a deep breath before accepting the call.
“Hey.” Beomgyu’s deep voice answers. You notice how tired and out of it he sounds and you can’t help but feel guilty for it.
“Hey..” You respond unsure of where to begin.
“I got your message and sorry I didn’t respond sooner I just–needed some time to think.” He says quietly.
“You nod your head even though he can’t see you. You find yourself smiling as you listen to his calm tone, a complete turn-around to his yelling you heard not too long ago. “It’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry about how it all turned out…I didn’t mean for it to go that far.” You sigh.
There’s a long pause and you can hear Beomgyu shifting around through the call. “I know,” his voice is softer now. “I said so many mean things to you and I should’ve explained myself better instead of lashing out at you..I’m so sorry Y/N. I was just frustrated,” he sighs. “The distance is harder than I thought it would be.”
You grip your phone a little harder. “It’s hard for me too, Gyu..I miss you so much. Every day.”
“I miss you too.” His voice breaks slightly “We’re trying so hard but we only ended up hurting each other. I don’t know how to fix this..”
“I think,” you pause, swallowing hard. “We need to communicate your feelings more, instead of bottling them up and letting it all come out during our calls.”
“You’re right,” he sighs. “I thought I could be strong for the both of us hoping that it would make things easier. I guess I was wrong.”
“I want to know how you feel too,” you say gently. “It’s okay to be frustrated and upset, I want us to be able to be honest with each other even if things get hard.”
He lets out a small chuckle sadness still laced within. “You’re right, I’m sorry for not letting you in before.” You hear a breath before he speaks again. “I don’t want to lose you baby…I love you too much for that.”
Your heart swells. “I love you too, Gyu.” You smile. “I want to make this work with you. I really do.”
“Let’s promise that from now on we’ll be more open with each other, you say gently. “No matter how big the problem, I'd rather hear it from you than to lose you from any more misunderstandings.”
“Agreed,” he laughs. “You know, I’ve been thinking…what if I…made a trip to go see you?”
Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, a rush of excitement flooding through you. “Really? You would do that?” you ask, unable to hide the smile that spreads across your face.
“Yeah, I think it would do us both some good,” he replies, his voice warm. “I want to see you. It’s been too long.”
“I would really like that Gyu.” Your smile spreads even further at the thought. “It would be so great to see you again.” Warmth spreads through your body at the thought of seeing him again.
“Soon, I promise,” he reassures you.
At the thought of seeing him again and all of the things you could do together it’s hard to get rid of the smile on your face.
“God I love you.”
He can only laugh in response.
#txt x reader#txt scenarios#txt fluff#txt angst#txt#txt reactions#beomgyu#choi beomgyu#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu fluff#beomgyu angst
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How You Play the Game Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley doesn't hear from you after the first game, he thinks that's it. But you got his heart pounding and made him smile, and he wants to see you again. The realization that maybe something that perfect should be left as a one night stand hits him hard, but he wants to know if there could be more.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst and smut (18+)
Length: 5600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger
Bradley was laying in bed on Saturday morning with the New York times app open on his phone, scrolling to find your article. When his eyes settled on your name below the title, he tapped on it. The app took him to your full biography and a picture of you in front of Wrigley Field.
You even looked beautiful in your stock photo image. He was tempted to save it to his photo gallery, but instead he skimmed your bio. You'd lived all over the country and played every sport imaginable as a child. You had graduated first in your class from Syracuse University, and you were undefeated at sports trivia.
The smile on his lips grew as he read the article that you must have submitted before your deadline last night. Your writing style was fun and entertaining, and you had even mentioned the comment he made about the catcher for the Angels. Bradley groaned and tossed his phone aside. He wanted to see you again.
But as he got out of bed and headed for his bathroom, he reminded himself that last night had one night stand written all over it. You were in California for work. You both said that hooking up like that wasn't something you normally did. He was sure you just did it for a bit of fun. Bradley was an idiot for catching feelings after a few hours with you, but it felt like he already knew you. Talking to you in person felt like reading your articles, because your writing matched your personality so well. Witty, intelligent, funny and charming.
"Chill the fuck out," Bradley told himself in the bathroom mirror. "It's done."
Then he spent the day trying to think about anything that wasn't sports related. He even took a ten mile run up along the beach to kill some time. And when Nat asked him if he was going to the Hard Deck, he decided that would help.
But everyone there was wearing Padres gear and talking about that game one victory. And Bradley swallowed hard when he saw that Shannon was working behind the bar. He hadn't thought about her much recently, and she definitely hadn't crossed his mind at all when he'd been with you. But nevertheless, Bradley smiled when she greeted him.
"Hey, Rooster," she said with that grin that he was so used to. And she poured him a beer before he even asked for one. "You think you'll stick around for last call?"
He watched her hand as she slid the beer across the bartop. "I'll let you know?" he asked, barely able to meet her eyes.
"Sounds good. I'll start a tab for you."
He just nodded and turned to find the other aviators. Sleeping with Shannon tonight might help Bradley get you off his mind. But did he want to? He kind of liked the way warm thoughts of your voice and your smile kept bubbling to the surface. He could hear you asking him if he'd write back to a text from you. Honestly, he had been low key hoping you'd contact him today, and then he could have proven that he'd write back immediately, just like he promised.
But he'd heard nothing. No text. No call. You hadn't done anything with his phone number.
"What's your problem?" Nat asked, pinching his arm until he snapped out of it. "I asked you three times if you wanted to play pool with me."
"I'm not in the mood," he groaned, rubbing his arm as the TV screen caught his attention. They were playing World Series highlights and talking about tomorrow night's game.
"Why are you pouting?"
He rolled his eyes. "Nat, I'm not pouting."
"You are. Is this because Bagman is flirting with Shannon?"
Bradley glanced over his shoulder and saw that Nat was correct. Jake was leaning on the bar, trying his hardest to get Shannon to smile. "Nah. I told you, that's just casual. Doesn't mean anything." He sipped his beer.
"Well whatever is bothering you, either tell me about it or get over it, because I want to beat Javy and Reuben at pool for once."
Bradley closed his eyes and told her, "I met someone at the game last night."
"No!" she gasped. "Tell me everything."
After he hesitated for a beat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on your name in the NYT app before handing it to her. He watched Nat as she skimmed the screen and examined your photo.
"Oh! You met her? Oh, shit....you hooked up with her!"
"Yeah," he grunted, glad that his best friend didn't need much help to figure out exactly what was going on with him. She never did.
"You like her! Why can I so easily picture you happily married to a sports writer? You could have six kids, and each one would play a different sport. One would play softball, one would be a kickass hockey player, one would play soccer, you'd probably have a ballerina-"
"Nat," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "I'm not going to see her again. I gave her my number, but I haven't heard from her." He turned back to the bar to find that Shannon was alone again. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he stayed until last call.
"Bradley. She's probably covering game two! You could go back to Petco Park tomorrow."
"Yeah," he grunted. "She's definitely covering game two. She told me she was. Right after I gave her my number which she hasn't used. It was just a hookup, Nat."
"I'll buy you a ticket," she said, fishing out her own phone. "An early Christmas present."
"Don't you dare. The resale price is up to almost a thousand bucks for the nosebleed seats."
She sighed and said, "Fine. But you should still think about going."
----------------------------
After you spent most of your weekend in your hotel room doing research and writing, you decided to take a few hours off on Sunday afternoon. And it was during this time, when you went for a walk through Balboa Park, that you let yourself accept the fact that you'd been working like a maniac all weekend to try to keep your mind off of Bradley.
Your hotel room smelled like his cologne or aftershave or maybe his laundry detergent. It was nice. Kind of comforting. You wanted to lay in bed with him until you smelled like it, too. But on Saturday morning, when you had thrown away the rogue condom wrapper, you decided it was better to throw away his phone number, too. You tried to rip that sheet out of your notebook since you no longer needed those stats, but you couldn't do it. Instead it was tucked away with your other work items, and you hoped you wouldn't cave and contact him.
After you took a shower, you grabbed your bag and your media pass and headed out early so you would have time to get some food when you got there. You liked that the ballparks usually served up local treats, and you'd get there in time to actually enjoy some fish tacos or a poke bowl tonight. You even thought about grabbing a local beer and drinking it on the main concourse before heading up to the box. You decided to go up and set down your computer and then find the beer cart.
But when you approached the narrow stairs that would take you up to the press box, you froze.
"Ace."
He was standing there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, an earnest look on his handsome face.
"Bradley," you gasped as your heart thudded with excitement. "What are you doing here? Did you win another contest?"
"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I bought a ticket."
You knew the tickets were reselling at a premium price, and as he pushed away from the wall and dropped his arms to his sides, you asked, "Really? You're that much of a Padres fan?"
He shrugged and kind of shook his head, but your breath caught in your throat when he said, "You never texted me, Ace. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a single second, but you didn't text or call me."
He was close enough now that you could smell him, and you almost whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. "You really wanted me to use your number?" you asked, meeting his eyes once again.
"Of course. That's why I wrote it down," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Shit, I shouldn't have come here to see you." He was blushing profusely and looking at the floor. "You wanted that to be a one time thing, didn't you?" he asked, glancing up at your eyes with a slight grimace on his face.
Well now you weren't so sure. You thought he had just written his number down as a tactic. It wouldn't have been the first time you had a guy see how far he could get you to go while making you feel like you had some sort of safety net. Making you think he was really into you. But maybe Bradley actually was?
"Bradley, I-"
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "In an effort to not completely ruin the perfection of Friday night in my mind, I'm gonna go."
You watched him turn, and he made it about ten steps before you ran to him, reaching for his bicep. "Bradley, wait." When he stopped, you bumped into him, but he steadied you. You swallowed hard. He was so attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him all weekend. Inviting him back to your hotel room again had been a fun fantasy you'd indulged in since late Friday night. "Do you want to sit with me again? In the box?"
He looked surprised now. "Yeah."
"Okay." You linked your fingers with his and led him back to the stairs. He still looked a little tentative as you added, "Let's go."
When you used your card to open the door, you made it halfway up the stairs before you paused and turned to look at him. He was one step below you, and your height just about matched up with his. He still looked a little surprised, but there was a soft smile on his lips now, and you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around his.
"To be clear, did you buy a one thousand dollar ticket so you could stand at the bottom of these stairs and try to see me again tonight?"
"Yes," he said clearly and without hesitation. You shook your fingers free from his and wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. Your nose brushed along the side of his as you felt the prickle of his mustache against your skin. And then his hands were on your waist as he welcomed you into his arms. He parted his lips for you as you dragged your fingers up into his hair. Then he broke the kiss long enough to rasp, "I like you, Ace."
You kissed his lips once more before running your lips along his mustache. He squeezed your waist a little tighter as the door opened behind him. When you saw that it was Raya, another sports writer, you took Bradley by the hand again and led him all the way into the box.
"Don't get into any trouble today," you whispered, pushing him down into the same stool he had occupied on Friday night. "I got you in with my pass."
"I'll be so good," he promised, looking up at you with eyes far too innocent for the rest of his smirking face. And somehow you doubted it.
-------------------------
Bradley couldn't keep his hands off you as you worked. He kept finding ways to trace little circles along your back. The pace of game two seemed to be a lot faster as the Angels got into a better groove against the Padres, and you were frantically keeping your stats as you typed away.
"You want something else to eat?" he asked you between innings as you scribbled out some notes that he supposed must have made sense to you.
"Yes, please," you said, turning to smile at him. You watched Bradley stand, and he headed to the table lined with food. You seemed surprised that he had been sincere when he said he wanted you to text him. Yeah, he'd been joking around a little bit when he wrote his number down in your notebook, but he was kind of crushed when he hadn't heard from you.
When Bradley turned to take the food back to that little spot you and he were sharing in the last row, he saw the reporter in front of you turn around and start giving you a hard time.
"You gonna bring your boyfriend to each game, New York?"
Bradley wanted to punch this asshole in the face, because who even made comments like that? But instead he watched you sigh dramatically and say, "At least I can get laid, Quincy. You're such a hater. Now turn around, I'm busy."
But Bradley did shoot Quincy a glare for good measure, and he didn't take his eyes off him until he had turned around. "More food," Bradley told you, setting the plate down where you could reach it without it being in your way. Then he settled onto his stool and draped his arm across the back of yours while you picked at the food.
You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Thanks," just as the Padres hit a home run. Bradley desperately wanted to cheer, but nobody cheered in the press box, apparently. So he sat quietly while you updated your stat sheet and ate a taco.
"Which team do you cheer for, Ace?" he asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You know, when you're not working and allowed to cheer."
Your lips parted in silence before you pressed them together, and then you said, "I never tell anyone my favorite teams."
Bradley examined your face for a beat. "You want to tell me, don't you?"
"Oh my god," you moaned, head tipped back. "Yeah, I actually do."
As Bradley shook from the laughter he was trying to hold in, you leaned in close to him. "You can tell me," he said, grinning. "I'll keep your secret."
You let your palm come to rest on his abs before sliding it along to his waist as you pressed your lips to his ear. "You can't tell anyone. Ever."
The feel of your lips on him, about to divulge something so important to your career had him pulling you closer. You laughed softly as your lips bumped his ear, and Bradley stifled a moan.
"I won't say a word about it," he promised.
"My favorite team is the Toronto Blue Jays."
That was about to become Bradley's favorite team, too. Maybe he could go to a game with you when you were allowed to cheer.
"Do you know what their mascot is named?" you asked as you eased yourself back into your seat. When he shook his head, you picked up your pencil and wrote in the margin of your stat sheet.
Ace.
Bradley laughed again. You had him smiling or laughing nonstop right now, and he couldn't believe it was already the eighth inning. It was getting late in the game now, but you were still writing.
Do you want to come back to my hotel with me again?
And then he realized that this was the first time he'd thought about fucking you all day.
Bradley leaned in close and kissed your neck a few times before he said, "Only if you save my number in your phone." Because as much as he'd been thinking yesterday about how good it felt to have sex with you, he wanted to hear from you when it wasn't a game day. He wanted to keep talking to you.
During the break at the end of the inning, you pulled your phone out and made a show of flipping to the previous page in your notebook and entering his phone number into your contacts list. Then you turned your phone screen away from him and typed something out, and he just waited to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he did, he looked at his messages and saw that you had sent him a photo of you with the Toronto Blue Jays mascot. And you captioned it with: Be honest, which Ace do you think is cuter?
He typed out to you, I'm not sure if you knew this, but I'm wildly attracted to blue feathers.
When you looked at your phone again, your laughter was loud enough to have Quincy turning around and earning another glare from Bradley. And just as the ninth inning started, you texted Bradley one more time. I hope you replaced your wallet condom, Boy Scout Bradley.
Truthfully, he had not. Getting lucky hadn't been his primary thought when he was just wanting to see you again. He muttered, "We're gonna need more than one, Ace."
And as your hand came to rest on his thigh, you tapped your lips with your pencil eraser. "I saw them for sale in the hotel lobby."
---------------------------
You couldn't remember feeling this way ever before. At least not with someone you barely knew. Bradley had your bag on his shoulder and he was practically carrying you across the parking lot as you laughed. You liked him a lot. He came back to see you again today. He was so funny and sweet, and you should have texted him on Saturday.
"You seem very eager," you whispered against his cheek as you kissed him at the crosswalk. You were running your hands all over his shoulders and dipping your hands inside his Padres jersey.
He picked you up to carry you across the street with the crowd of other pedestrians. "I'm hoping you'll show me your blue feathers tonight," he rasped, making you laugh even more.
"I knew you liked the other Ace better!"
He kissed your neck, and once he had you inside the hotel lobby, he said, "No, you're my favorite."
"Condoms," you whispered, pointing toward the small convenience shop next to the front desk. Bradley set you down and grabbed up all ten double packs of condoms and dumped them in front of the young guy who was working at the front desk.
"Is that all you needed, sir?"
Bradley pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, looking at you while he said, "Well no, that's not all I need." His gaze was openly needy as he looked at your face, lingering on your lips. You felt warm all over, and when Bradley had all twenty condoms in his hands again, you hooked your fingers though the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him toward the elevators.
"Let's go, Boy Scout."
Bradley groaned as the elevator door opened and you pulled him inside. He stood before you with your computer bag, so many packs of condoms and an erection that you could plainly see behind his zipper. You giggled and ran your thumbnail up and down his zipper as you said, "You're adorable."
He swallowed hard as you led him out on the top floor and down the corridor toward your room. "Ace? Baby?"
"Yeah?" you asked, unlocking the door as he stood behind you and let you feel him pressed to your lower back.
"Maybe you should finish writing your article first? I don't want you to get too close to your deadline again."
You opened the door and backed into the room, pulling him in with you. "No," you whispered before you kissed him hard. "I want you right now."
You grabbed one of the double packs of condoms from his hands, and he let the rest of them fall to the floor. The smile that you and he shared had your tummy doing somersaults as he gently set down your computer bag. You continued to back up slowly to the bed as he followed you. When you toed off your shoes, you watched him pause to pull his off as well. And then you were holding up the condoms and walking backwards across the bed on your knees until you reached the middle.
Bradley was frozen, just staring at you with a crooked smile on his face and his hands on his zipper. "I'm waiting," you whispered. And then you weren't waiting anymore at all, because Bradley was on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as his weight pushed you down into the bedding.
You moaned into his kisses as you ran your fingers through his hair. He already felt, smelled and sounded familiar to you. He tugged on your shirt until he was kissing you through your bra.
"You don't taste like beer today," he murmured against your skin, teasing you with his mustache.
"No, you managed not to spill," you replied, pulling your own shirt off as he unhooked your bra. His mouth was all over your breasts once he tossed your bra on the floor, and you were arching your back up against him. "You feel good."
He groaned into your skin while you felt him grind against your core through way too much fabric. "Ace." His hands were cupping your breasts as he let his lips drift down your belly until he was kissing along the top of your jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped your pants and let him pull them down your legs. And then he was still fully clothed, giving you head just like two nights ago.
He was good at it, too. But when you started to touch your own breasts, he got distracted, lips grazing your clit as he watched you. When he lazily brought the pad of his thumb up along your slit and started teasing you, the sounds you made were so needy. You thought he could probably get you off like this if you wanted him to.
But you sat up and made quick work of his jersey buttons while he slipped his index finger inside you. "Bradley," you moaned softly as he kissed your neck and finger fucked you. He just seemed to want to make you feel good, and your hands stalled as you pushed his jersey down off both of his shoulders. Your palms came to rest on his warm biceps, and you could feel his arm muscles working as he fingered you.
"Tell me what you want, Ace," he grunted, stroking your clit with his thumb. He'd said that on Friday as well.
"I want you naked and inside me."
He let you undress him then, and you took his cock in both of your hands. You watched him roll onto his back as you teased him with your fingers, running your nails down along his thighs. The veins in his neck were strained, and his cheeks were flushed as his eyes darted from your face down to your hands and back up. He was glorious. Huge everywhere. Tan and muscular and perfect. So hard and eager to please.
When you straddled his hips and planted your hands on his shoulders, he pulled you to him, kissing your lips until you were laying flat on him. His length was gliding through your soaked pussy, and you moaned at the feel of him rubbing slowly against your clit. You mumbled his name, but he just kissed your lips harder, wrapping those big hands around your hips.
With each little movement of your hips grinding against him, you were closer to fucking him, so you gasped, "Condom."
"Mmhmm," he hummed, one big hand at the middle of your back while he reached blindly around the bedding in search of the small package. His lips were still soft and perfect on yours, unhurried as he handed you the condoms. You pressed your forehead to his as you fumbled trying to open one of them, and then you were sitting up between his legs, rolling it down his length, ready to go.
You guided yourself down around his cock, and he felt incredible, just like before. "Oh god," you whined softly, taking every inch of him while he grasped your thighs hard.
"So pretty," he whispered, watching you fucking him. Soon you were riding him fast and rough, bracing your hands on his abs. You couldn't even talk or formulate words as you whimpered, because he was hitting that sweet spot inside you. With every movement you were getting closer, and Bradley looked like he was struggling to keep it together.
You took his right hand, and brought it up to your mouth, sucking on his index and middle fingers to get them wet. "Baby, it feels too good," he groaned, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Then you guided his hand down to your clit, and you started cumming almost instantly. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your clit against his fingers with each stroke of your pussy along his cock.
Loud, incoherent noises filled the room as you came, riding him without finesse, head tipped back. And then Bradley was sitting up, right arm wrapped around your waist while he braced himself with his left palm on the bed. He whispered praise against your skin, pausing to kiss you as he thrust his hips up to fuck you as you came down from your high. "You're so hot. So good."
He sucked on your neck before his movements became jerky, and then he was chanting Ace! as he came too. He collapsed back against the bed with you held tightly to his chest, and you ran your fingers along his sweaty neck and up to stroke his jaw.
---------------------------------------
Bradley had nearly fallen asleep with your warm body draped over his and his soft cock still buried inside you. And then your phone alarm went off, and you were instantly scrambling to find your jeans amongst the pile of clothing on the floor.
"Shit," you muttered, glancing at him as you silenced your phone and checked the time. "I need to finish writing and submit my piece."
Bradley nodded and rolled onto his side and reached for a tissue to take care of the used condom. The last thing he wanted to do was go home now, but you had work to do, and he needed to be on base in the morning. He stood as you scooped his jersey up off the floor, but instead of handing it to him, you slipped it on. It fit you like a cute, little dress.
"My article is almost done," you murmured, retrieving your bag from near the door where he had set it down earlier. He smiled as you stepped around all the other packs of condoms. "I just need to add in my stats and proofread everything."
"Okay," he whispered, unwilling to break the spell that he felt like he was under when he was in your presence. "I can head out." He started to reach for his undershirt and boxer briefs, figuring you could just keep his jersey if you wanted to wear it.
But Bradley found himself wanting to ask if he could see you again. You saved his phone number this time, and while you were going up to Los Angeles for game three, he was hoping you'd be back in San Diego again. He was almost pissed now that the Padres were up two games to none in the World Series, because the more games that these two teams played, the longer you'd be in California. And LA was a hell of a lot closer to San Diego than New York City was.
As he held his clothes in his hand, you bit your lip and looked at him while your computer booted up. "You can stay. If you want?"
He froze, trying to process what you meant. "Stay?"
"Yeah," you whispered, taking him by the hand. "While I write."
He instantly dropped everything back to the floor as you pulled him to the desk chair. He sat down and then you sat on his naked thigh, entering your impressively long password and pulling up your mostly completed article. You flipped through your notebook to your stats sheet, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on your leg.
"You wanna help me?" you asked, typing away. "Tell me when Soto was on third."
Bradley skimmed the sheet and found the information. "Bottom of the sixth inning. Right before Grisham hit a double." He leaned in and kissed your neck as you murmured thanks.
"And when did Hill replace Darvish?"
Bradley read your sloppy notes and smiled. "Halfway through the seventh inning."
"Perfect," you whispered, and Bradley held you quietly as you scrolled to the top of your article and read it out loud. Your voice was captivating, and you somehow made the game he had seen in person even more interesting. He chuckled at the part where you mentioned how the Angels' coach had tripped coming out of the bullpen, and you smiled at him over your shoulder before you finished reading.
"Damn, Ace," he muttered as you saved it one last time and logged in to submit the article. "That was brilliant." Bradley was getting hard again. Some sort of combination of what you said and how you said it turned him on.
You closed your computer and laughed softly, nudging his erection with your knee as you turned in his arms. You glanced down at his cock, standing at attention for you, and Bradley could feel himself blushing. "Oh," you gasped, running your fingernails along his length as you grinned. "Eager again."
Bradley groaned and let his head tip back as you kissed his neck. "I think I'm always going to be eager for you. Talking about sports and wearing my Padres jersey are certainly helping."
Your laughter was his undoing as your lips met his warm cheek, and then Bradley watched your face as your pussy cradled his cock so that he was gently throbbing against your clit. "How many more condoms do we have?" you asked, fingers in his chest hair.
"Nineteen," he replied, voice deep and raspy with need.
"I'll be right back," you promised, kissing his lips before you stood and grabbed the unused condom from the bed. His jersey was open, offering him a peek here and there of your tits and belly as you moved. Then you were rolling this condom into place and straddling his hips on the chair.
Bradley pulled the jersey open wider so he could watch you sink around his cock. You felt like perfection, and the way your body looked as you took him was making him dizzy.
"You know," you sighed as he bottomed out inside you, "if the Angels start a different pitcher for game three, it could really throw off the Padres plans."
"Yeah?" he asked, stroking the soft skin of your waist as you rolled your hips. "Tell me more."
"Mmm, well, they've been following the same plan the whole season, right?" you asked, your lips grazing his as you spoke.
"Yeah, they have," Bradley agreed, already ridiculously close as you fed him this brand of dirty talk.
"I think they should try something new and start Hermans instead," you whined, kissing him hard as you rode him.
"Are you trying to turn me on right now, Ace?"
"Yeah," you gasped as you fucked him harder. "Is it working?"
"You know it is, Baby," he groaned, grinding his hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you already know how to make me wild."
Then you were gasping out pitching stats, your voice breaking as you rode him so well. Bradley was barely keeping it together, and then your fingers were in his hair, tugging at the roots. He knew what to do now; he licked his fingers and brought them to your tight clit, and your eyes went wide.
"Yes!" you gasped, seemingly surprised that he had you cumming almost instantly. And the sight of your tits bouncing in his face was the last thing he saw before he sucked on your nipples and came hard.
His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his breathing evened out. He was trying to focus on your words, because they sounded very important. "If the Padres sweep the Angels, then I won't be back in San Diego. But if they go to a game six scenario, maybe we can see each other again?"
Yes, your words were very, very important. He wanted you to come back to San Diego, but he was determined to see you even if you didn't. "I could come up to LA. Get a ticket for game three. If you want."
You pulled away from him, and then Bradley was looking up into your surprised eyes. "Yeah?" you asked softly.
"Sure, Ace," he mumbled, running his knuckles along the soft valley between your breasts. "I'd love to. But it's up to you."
Your voice was soft. "Okay."
Then Bradley kissed your lips and said what was on his mind. "We should keep doing this. Me and you. Until the World Series ends. Until you have to leave California."
He could feel your pussy squeeze his soft cock as you started kissing him and running your fingers through his hair. And a few minutes later, he had you in your hotel room bed, snuggling up with your back pressed to the front of his body as you both fell asleep.
--------------------------
Bradley is out there dropping a cool grand just to try to verify if that was actually a one night stand or not. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
PART 3
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The CEO Collision - Part Three
Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)
Warnings / content for Part Three: alcohol consumption, profanities, seonghwa is involved in a scandal, this part contains smut (mdni / 18+), oral (f and m receiving), penetration / piv, protected sex (pill). Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.
Word Count: 11.2k
Masterlist for The CEO Collision
The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of work. Your schedule was packed from morning to night with meetings, strategy sessions, and overseeing new developments at your company. The company was preparing for the launch of its newest diagnostic imaging device, and every detail required your attention. From approving marketing materials to meeting with engineers to ensure production timelines were met, you barely had time to breathe.
Meanwhile, Seonghwa was in Daegu for a business trip, overseeing a major expansion project for his own company. He was working closely with new suppliers and negotiating contracts, ensuring the company’s foothold in the region remained strong. The two of you were only able to meet twice these past few weeks with the presence of your families. But you stayed in touch through texts, though the messages were often brief—updates on your respective schedules, quick remarks about your days, and the occasional playful teasing.
It was a Thursday morning at work, and you knew you were going to have to work over the weekend too as you had to attend Yunho’s father’s retirement party tomorrow night. You dearly missed Seonghwa, and as if on cue, he messaged you.
Seonghwa: How’s the launch prep going? Still sane? You: Barely. If I see another typo in these reports, I might scream Seonghwa: You’re the CEO. Just yell. It’s therapeutic You: Sure, and scare my staff half to death? Seonghwa: Consider it a bonding exercise
You chuckled at his last message before putting your phone aside and getting back to work. Despite the distance, the tension from the last time you saw him didn’t dissipate. If anything, the brief moments of flirtation over text seemed to stoke the flames. You’d catch yourself rereading his messages, biting your lip as you thought about his smirk, his touch, the way he’d kissed you against your car and in his library.
But the busyness of your days left little time for daydreams.
A knock at your door was heard before Nari walked in, an anxious look on her face that immediately made you alert.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried. “Please don’t tell me we lost data or something.”
“Oh, Ms. Y/N,” she cried, “Yunho said he wants to introduce me to his parents tomorrow night at his father’s retirement party! What should I do?!”
You blinked, processing Nari’s sudden outburst before letting out a small laugh of relief. “That’s it? Nari, you scared me half to death!”
“I’m sorry!” she wailed, clutching her phone tightly. “But this is serious! His parents! What if they don’t like me? What if I mess up? What if—”
“Nari,” you interrupted, standing up and walking over to her. “Take a deep breath.”
She nodded, inhaling sharply and exhaling slowly as you guided her to sit down. “Okay, I’m breathing. Now tell me what to do. I can’t mess this up!”
“You’re not going to mess this up,” you reassured her, pulling a chair over and sitting across from her. “Yunho adores you, right? He wouldn’t introduce you to his parents if he didn’t think they’d like you too.”
“But—”
“No buts. You’re charming, sweet, and smart. Just be yourself,” you said firmly. “And maybe tone down the worrying, just a little.”
Nari let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks flushing. “You’re right. I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?”
“Just a little,” you teased, offering her a smile. “Now, what are you wearing?”
Her eyes widened, the panic returning. “I have no idea! What’s the dress code? What if I’m overdressed? Or underdressed? Or—”
“Nari,” you said, holding up a hand to stop her spiral. “First of all, it’s a black-tie event. Second, I’ll help you pick something out after work, okay? You’ll be perfect.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you, Ms. Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.”
You laughed softly. “Just come over to my place tomorrow. There’s a whole team coming to doll my family up. I’ll have them bring some gowns for you too.”
“Deal,” she said, standing up. “I owe you.”
“Big time,” you teased as she left your office, a newfound spring in her step.
As the door closed, you leaned back in your chair, smiling to yourself. It was nice to see Nari so excited, even if she was a bundle of nerves. And while you wouldn’t admit it out loud, helping her plan for Yunho’s parents was a welcome distraction from your own thoughts about Seonghwa.
-
The next morning at work, you were really tired, and Nari was working at your desk while you laid down on the sofa in your office, trying to take a power nap.
You groggily opened your eyes, still feeling the effects of a restless night as you tried to adjust to the morning light. A loud gasp from Nari quickly jolted you awake, your senses on high alert.
"Y/N, you need to see this!" Nari’s voice was filled with disbelief, and she was already staring intently at her laptop screen.
You sat up from the couch, wiping sleep from your eyes. "What happened? Did something go wrong with the data?" you asked, already feeling a spike of concern.
Nari didn’t answer right away. Instead, she clicked her mouse, and before you could even get close, she gasped again, her hands shaking slightly as she pointed at the screen. "Look at this, Y/N."
You walked over, her frantic energy infectious, and peered at the screen. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the headline:
“CEO Park Seonghwa Caught in Scandal with Young Actress Lee Yoona: A Relationship Blooming?”
The article included several pictures—one of Seonghwa dining with Lee Yoona, the 22-year-old actress, at a trendy restaurant, another showing the two of them walking out of the venue, looking comfortable with each other, laughing together as they left. But it was the final photo that made your stomach twist—Seonghwa carrying Yoona bridal-style into a hotel.
You stared at the image for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. Your mind tried to process the details, but your heart was already racing, caught somewhere between confusion and anger.
Nari leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper as she read the article aloud:
“CEO Park Seonghwa has been spotted multiple times in the company of actress Lee Yoona, sparking rumors about a blossoming romance between the two. The latest photos taken at a five-star restaurant in Daegu show the two enjoying a private dinner, followed by Seonghwa carrying Yoona to a hotel in a highly intimate gesture. The 8-year age gap has raised some eyebrows, but sources close to both parties suggest that their relationship is more than just a professional one. Lee Yoona is currently in Daegu, filming for her upcoming show ‘Are we in love?’ set to release later in the year, while the reason for CEO Park Seonghwa’s visit to Daegu is unknown.”
Nari clicked her tongue in disbelief. “This is crazy, Y/N. I don’t believe for a second that Seonghwa would do something like this. You and him…” She paused, turning to look at you, as if trying to gauge your reaction. "You’re sort of engaged, right? I mean, he wouldn’t—”
You couldn’t respond immediately, your brain still foggy from the overwhelming sensation of seeing Seonghwa with someone else so… intimately. “This can’t be real, right? He’s… with her? Just like that?” You let the words hang in the air, feeling the weight of them pull you down.
"Come on, Y/N, don't jump to conclusions." Nari’s voice was firm, trying to ground you in logic. "I’ve known Seonghwa for a while, and I honestly don’t think he’s like that. I think… I think the media just twisted things, like they always do. I mean, look at how they spun the dinner. Who knows? It could’ve been completely innocent. You’ve seen how the press exaggerates everything."
You shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your mind. "I don’t know, Nari. This is different. They were so close... Seonghwa's always been professional. But this—this isn’t professional."
Nari leaned back in her chair, her gaze softening. “I get it, I do. But don’t let this media storm get to you. You haven’t heard his side yet, right? And don’t forget, there’s always the possibility that this is nothing more than an innocent dinner, blown out of proportion.”
You let out a shaky breath, feeling like you were about to fall apart. “I need to hear from him. I need to know what’s going on."
The article lingered in front of you like a bad dream, and all you could think about was how your world had just shifted in an instant.
Nari sighed, offering you a small smile. “I’ll support you no matter what, Y/N. But before jumping to conclusions, talk to Seonghwa. You deserve to know the truth straight from him.”
You nodded, still in disbelief, but the one thing you knew for sure was that you had to confront him. You needed clarity. This wasn’t something you could just ignore, especially with the way your heart was reacting to seeing him with someone else.
You reached for your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked the screen and stared at Seonghwa’s contact. Should you call him now? Or wait for him to reach out? You hesitated for only a moment before you hit his name and waited for him to pick up.
He didn’t pick up. There were no texts from him either. It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. Where was he?
Picking up your phone once again, you scrolled through his contact info and dialed his number, your heart racing as the call connected. The phone rang, and your stomach churned with each passing second.
Then—voicemail.
While you waited for Seonghwa to call you back, you looked up his name online, seeing dozens of articles about the scandal. As you scrolled through the articles, your heart sank with every new headline. The media had taken the story and spun it into something much worse than it probably was.
One article in particular caught your attention. It was a detailed write-up about Seonghwa and Lee Yoona, describing their dinner together at a well-known high-end restaurant in Daegu. According to the piece, Seonghwa had been seen laughing and chatting with her before they left together, with some sources claiming that they had been "inseparable" the entire evening. The most damning part of the article was the photo of Seonghwa lifting Yoona in his arms, carrying her bridal-style toward a hotel entrance late in the night. The paparazzi had captured the moment perfectly, making it look like something straight out of a romance movie—except it was far from romantic to you.
Your hands shook slightly as you read the speculation. According to the article, the two of them had been spending "increasingly intimate time together" and rumors of a relationship had started swirling ever since they were seen together at a gala a few months ago. There were comments from people who claimed to have "witnessed their chemistry" and one particularly nasty line about how Seonghwa had always been "a man of many loves."
You clenched your fists, a mixture of anger and confusion bubbling up inside you. How could he not tell you about this? If it was nothing, why hadn’t he reached out to clear the air? Why hadn't he said something before all of this? You trusted him, but now, everything seemed clouded in doubt.
The worst part was that you couldn't stop imagining the look on his face when he carried Yoona into that hotel. Could he have been with her? The idea gnawed at you, the jealousy and betrayal making your stomach twist.
But then, you remembered something—something important. You hadn't seen the whole story. You didn’t know the truth.
You took in a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. You had to give him the chance to explain. If Seonghwa was who you thought he was, this wouldn’t be the whole picture. There had to be a reasonable explanation. But then again, could there be?
You set your phone down for a moment, looking out the window, trying to calm yourself before your nerves completely took over. Why wasn’t he calling?
-
You stood near the entrance of the elegantly decorated ballroom, feeling the weight of the night pressing on your chest. The chatter around you was lively, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the room, but you barely registered any of it. You had been at Yunho’s father’s retirement party for over an hour now, and still, there was no word from Seonghwa.
Your parents had been urging you not to jump to conclusions, insisting that you wait until you spoke to him directly. They kept telling you that these things often got blown out of proportion in the media. But despite their reassurances, you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach, the gnawing feeling that maybe you were wrong to trust him. Why hadn’t he reached out by now?
Yeosang and Yunho had been doing their best to distract you, introducing you to people you barely remembered and trying to keep the conversation light, but your mind was elsewhere. You could feel the tension building, making it harder to breathe. Every time your phone buzzed, you jumped—each time hoping it would be Seonghwa, but it never was.
Just then, Hongjoong appeared beside you, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on you. He gave you a small smile, though there was concern in his gaze.
“Hey,” he said softly, leaning in slightly so only you could hear. “You okay?”
You gave him a tight smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just... waiting for Seonghwa to explain himself.”
Hongjoong’s brow furrowed, and he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Look, Y/N, I know you’re upset, but Seonghwa? He’s not the type of guy to do something like that. I’ve known him for years, and I can tell you, he’s not that guy.”
You nodded, but your doubts remained. You had heard people say that before—he’s not that guy. But the articles didn’t lie, did they? He was photographed carrying Lee Yoona into a hotel, and the entire media had already decided what that meant. Could he really have just been helping her?
“But why hasn’t he called me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why hasn't he said anything about it?”
Hongjoong’s expression softened, and he gave you a sympathetic look. “I don’t know. He hasn’t responded to my texts yet either. He’s supposed to be here tonight. But believe me, he would never betray you like this.”
You wanted to believe him. You really did. But the silence between you and Seonghwa was stretching on for too long, and it hurt.
"I just don't get it," you murmured, turning your attention back to the people mingling around you. "He should’ve said something by now.”
Hongjoong’s gaze softened further as he gave you a comforting pat on the back. “I know. But he’s not the kind of guy to hide something like this from you. Don’t forget who he is, Y/N. He values honesty above everything.”
You nodded, though your heart still felt heavy. His words were a small comfort, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Every minute that ticked by without a word from Seonghwa seemed to make the situation worse.
“Maybe... maybe he’s just scared,” Hongjoong added after a pause, his voice thoughtful. “We both know Seonghwa. He doesn’t do well with conflict, especially when it comes to things that matter.”
You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I just don’t understand why he hasn’t reached out. It’s not like him.”
“Well, maybe he doesn’t know how to explain himself,” Hongjoong said gently. “But he will. I’m sure of it. Just wait and see.”
You wanted to believe him. But every part of you was screaming for answers, and the longer you waited, the harder it became to stay calm.
Half an hour later, Seonghwa entered Yunho’s family mansion, his presence commanding immediate attention. Wooyoung followed close behind, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his expression. Ignoring the whispers and curious looks from the crowd, Seonghwa scanned the room until his eyes landed on Yunho. He crossed the room in long strides.
“Yunho,” Seonghwa said, his voice low but urgent. “Have you seen Y/N anywhere? I need to talk to her.”
Yunho studied him for a moment, then nodded toward the staircase. “She’s in the study upstairs. She needed to finish a call.”
Seonghwa didn’t waste a second, muttering a quick thanks before heading upstairs. He knocked on the study door before pushing it open. You were standing by the window, your phone still in hand, though it appeared the call had just ended. When you turned and saw him, your expression shifted, a mix of surprise and guarded relief.
“Seonghwa,” you said softly, though the tension in your voice was unmistakable.
“Y/N,” he began, closing the door behind him. “Please, let me explain everything.”
You didn’t move from your spot, but your posture relaxed slightly. “I’m listening.”
He let out a breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had been lifted by your willingness to hear him out. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t contact you. My phone—” He held it up, showing the shattered screen. “It’s completely broken. I… I got drunk after dropping Yoona at her hotel, and I must have broken it then. I know it was irresponsible of me, but I didn’t want to leave you in the dark like this. I… Wooyoung doesn’t have your number or Hongjoong’s so I had no way of contacting you. I knew you were coming tonight so I thought of speaking to you here directly.”
Your brows furrowed, concern flickering across your face despite the situation. “What happened, Seonghwa? I want to believe you, but the articles… they’re everywhere.”
He took a deep breath, stepping closer. “Believe me, Y/N, I know this looks really bad, but Yoona is like a younger sister to me, Y/N, and she sees me as an older brother. I would never… I couldn’t even think of her that way. Five years ago, her father—a terrible man—sold her to some man to pay off his gambling debts. She was just out of high school, terrified, and alone. She ran away, and I found her on the side of a road in Busan, badly beaten.”
Your eyes widened slightly, and the tension in your expression softened as you listened.
“I took her to the hospital, reported everything, and made sure those responsible were punished. I offered to support her college education, but she always wanted to pursue acting, so I introduced her to a friend’s agency. I helped her get an apartment here in Seoul. Since then, I’ve checked in on her occasionally to make sure she’s okay.”
You stayed quiet, letting him continue.
“As for the pictures of me carrying her… She had too much to drink and couldn’t walk properly. Wooyoung and another friend were with us the entire time, but the media conveniently left them out. They were passed out in the car from drinking, so I carried her to her room to make sure she was safe and then went back to my own hotel.”
Your gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before meeting his again. “Why didn’t you tell me about her before?”
“I should have,” Seonghwa admitted, guilt etched into his face. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “To be honest with you, no one other than Wooyoung knows about Yoona. Not even my parents—though they’ve certainly expressed their frustration with me now that this has come to light.”
Your expression softened slightly, the tension in your posture easing just a bit.
“I didn’t tell anyone because… well, money has never been an issue for me. I helped save her life because it was the right thing to do, not because I wanted recognition or acknowledgment. It felt private—her story, her struggles. And I thought keeping it that way would protect her.”
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “Looking back, I realize I should’ve told you,” he said, moving to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his. “But I never thought it was relevant, not until the media twisted it into something it wasn’t.”
You considered his words, your initial hurt beginning to dissolve into understanding. “I get that you were trying to protect her, Seonghwa, and I respect that. But if we’re… if we’re going to move forward, I need to know that you trust me enough to share these parts of your life with me, even if they seem irrelevant to you.”
His eyes softened, and he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll do better. I promise.”
You hummed in response, your gaze dropping to your hands still intertwined with his. For a moment, the warmth of his touch distracted you, but a flicker of memory broke through—the times he had ignored you after those drunken nights together. The question burned on the tip of your tongue, aching to be asked.
But you were too drained to confront it now. Today had already been an emotional rollercoaster, and this wasn’t the right time or place. It was Yunho’s father’s retirement party, and you still wanted to spend time with your friends and acquaintances, not unravel more layers of this complicated situation.
Seonghwa’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, drawing you back to the present. His brows furrowed slightly as he studied your face. “There’s something on your mind,” he said gently. “What is it?”
You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. I’m just… tired.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, clearly not buying your deflection. “Y/N, please. I can see there’s more to it than that.”
You hesitated, but before you could decide how to respond, he took a deep breath, his grip on your hands tightening slightly as if bracing himself. “Look… there’s something I… I need to say.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the seriousness in his tone.
“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his voice low but steady, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “I don’t expect an answer from you now. I just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not after everything that’s happened… I just needed you to know that.”
You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. His words hung heavily in the air, filling the space between you with a mix of tension, vulnerability, and unspoken possibilities.
Seonghwa took a cautious step closer, his hands still holding yours as if afraid you might pull away. His eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction.
“I know I’ve made mistakes,” he continued softly, his voice laced with regret. “And I know I haven’t always treated you the way you deserve. But I’m serious about this, about us. Even if I have to wait until you’re ready to believe me… I will.”
The sincerity in his words caused a lump to form in your throat. You blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the moment.
“Seonghwa…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
He smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”
The vulnerability in his eyes was disarming, and for a moment, all the hurt and confusion from before seemed to melt away. But before you could process your emotions further, a distant voice from downstairs called your name, pulling you back to reality.
You took a deep breath, gently pulling your hands away. “I should go back to the party,” you said, your tone steady despite the turmoil inside you.
Seonghwa nodded, stepping back to give you space. “Of course. Just… take your time, Y/N. I’ll be here.”
You nodded, turning to leave the room, but paused at the door. Glancing back at him, you saw the faintest hint of a hopeful smile on his face.
As you walked down the staircase and rejoined the bustling party, your mind was anything but calm. His confession replayed in your head like a broken record, making it impossible to focus on the cheerful chatter around you.
Hongjoong approached, offering you a drink. “Everything okay?” he asked, his sharp eyes scanning your face.
You forced a smile, taking the glass from him. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”
He didn’t push, simply nodding and clinking his glass with yours. As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances toward the stairs, wondering if Seonghwa was still upstairs, thinking about you the same way you were now unable to stop thinking about him.
-
The next morning, you were working from home. As you sat at your desk trying to focus on work, a notification lit up your phone screen. It was a breaking news alert with the title: "Statement from ATZ Entertainment about Actress Lee Yoona."
Hello, this is ATZ Entertainment.
False articles involving Actress Lee Yoona has been brought to our attention.
While it is true Lee Yoona was with Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, the nature of their relationship is strictly platonic and can best be described as that of an older brother and younger sister. On the evening in question in Daegu where Yoona is currently filming, Yoona joined Park Seonghwa and two of their close friends for dinner after a day of filming. During the course of the evening, Yoona unfortunately sprained her ankle, rendering her unable to walk without assistance. Park Seonghwa carried her to her hotel room to ensure her safety and left immediately after ensuring she was settled. The two friends who were present throughout the evening can also confirm these details.
The media’s selective use of images and omission of context has led to baseless and damaging speculations regarding Mr. Park and Ms. Lee. Both individuals have maintained a professional and friendly relationship over the years, with no romantic involvement whatsoever.
We urge the public to be discerning in their consumption of news and to avoid spreading unfounded rumors. ATZ Entertainment, in conjunction with Byeol Materials Group, will take legal action against individuals or entities who perpetuate false or malicious narratives that harm the reputations of either Lee Yoona or Park Seonghwa.
Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.
You could practically feel the weight of the statement as you read it out loud to Nari, who nodded approvingly. “That should definitely put things to rest,” she said confidently.
You hummed in agreement, though a small part of you still felt uneasy. The media had been relentless with its speculations, and you weren’t naive enough to think this would stop all the chatter. But at least now the truth was out there. And more importantly, Seonghwa’s words to you from last night echoed in your mind, solidifying your trust in him. Of course, you knew they would cover up the fact that Lee Yoona was drunk by claiming she sprained her ankle instead.
Nari stood up, a playful grin on her face. “Now that the drama’s clearing up, maybe you can start thinking about how you’re going to answer Seonghwa’s confession.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the heat rising to your cheeks. “Let’s focus on work, shall we?”
“Sure, boss,” she teased, stretching her arms above her head. “But don’t think I’m letting you avoid the subject forever.”
-x-x-x-
Dinner was unusually quiet, a rare occurrence in your family. Yeri was also present today. The clinking of utensils against plates filled the space, but the usual chatter was missing. You knew why—they were all waiting for the right moment to bring up the one topic everyone was thinking about.
Your father finally broke the silence, setting his glass down with a soft thud. “Y/N,” he began, his tone gentle but probing, “now that everything about Seonghwa has been cleared up, are you ready to move forward? Are you ready to get engaged to him?”
You paused, your fork hovering over your plate as the question settled in the air. All eyes were on you—your mother’s soft and encouraging gaze, Hongjoong’s more neutral but attentive expression, and Yeri’s subtle look of curiosity mixed with concern.
“I…” You hesitated, unsure of how to express the storm of emotions swirling inside you.
“Sweetheart,” your mother said, her voice calm and soothing, “we’re not trying to pressure you. We just want to understand how you’re feeling.”
Your father nodded. “Seonghwa is a good man. We’ve all seen that. But this decision has to come from you.”
Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “He’s been through a lot to prove himself, Y/N. And let’s not forget he confessed to you. That’s not something he’d do lightly.”
Yeri chimed in, her voice softer than usual. “And you’ve always been careful with your heart, Y/N. But you’ve also been happier since Seonghwa’s been in your life. Do you love him?”
The question hit you like a bolt of lightning, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. “I care about him deeply… and I know I have feelings for him,” you admitted, your voice steady but thoughtful. “But love? That’s… that’s something I’m still trying to understand.”
Your father exchanged a glance with your mother before speaking again. “It’s a big step, Y/N. And it’s okay to take your time. But ask yourself this—what do you see when you think about your future? Do you see him in it?”
The room fell silent again, and you stared down at your plate, your thoughts running wild. Did you see Seonghwa in your future? The moments you’d shared with him flashed through your mind—the quiet conversations, the laughter, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, the way he held you while he kissed you.
Finally, you looked up, meeting their expectant gazes. “I don’t have an answer right now,” you said honestly. “But I know I need to talk to him… there’s something I need to ask him. I need to figure this out first, for myself and for us.”
Your mother smiled softly, reaching out to place her hand over yours. “That’s all we ask. Take your time, and trust your heart.”
Hongjoong gave you a supportive nod. “And if he screws up, I’ll handle it. He is my bestfriend after all.”
That drew a small laugh from you, easing some of the tension in the room.
Later that night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, their words replayed in your mind. The question wasn’t just about Seonghwa—it was about what you wanted, what you were ready for.
And deep down, you knew you needed to see him soon. You knew you had to ask him about the multiple times you slept with him and the way he treated it like as if nothing happened.
-
Seonghwa sat at one of Mingi's high-top tables, his tablet balanced precariously on a stack of coasters as he scrolled through bouquet arrangements. His brow was furrowed like he was negotiating a billion-dollar deal instead of picking flowers.
“Roses feel too cliché,” he muttered to himself, clicking to view another arrangement featuring peonies and eucalyptus.
“You know,” Wooyoung began, sipping his brightly colored cocktail with a ridiculous paper umbrella sticking out of it, “this is taking way too long. Just give her flower-shaped diamonds and call it a day.”
Seonghwa didn’t even look up. “Should I?”
Mingi, who was behind the bar mixing a drink, whipped around so fast he almost dropped his shaker. “What?”
Hongjoong, seated at the other end of the table nursing a glass of whiskey, snorted. “He’s kidding.”
Seonghwa paused, looking up from the tablet, his expression unreadable.
“Oh my god, he’s actually considering it!” Wooyoung cackled, slapping his thigh. “I mean, imagine her reaction. Flower-shaped diamonds, Seonghwa. You’d be the most romantic guy in the history of romance. Ever.”
Seonghwa’s lips twitched like he was seriously considering it. “It would be efficient,” he said thoughtfully. “Flowers and jewelry in one.”
Mingi groaned loudly, slamming his shaker on the bar. “You’re not serious.”
“Don’t tempt him,” Hongjoong muttered, swirling the ice in his glass.
“No, no, let’s lean into this,” Wooyoung said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Add in a gold vase to hold the diamond flowers, and boom! The ultimate gift.”
Hongjoong choked on his drink, coughing violently. “Gold vase? Are you insane? You’re going to bankrupt him for life!”
Wooyoung laughed loudly. “Yooo our company is struggling, you could actually end up bankrupt!”
“Not likely,” Seonghwa replied smoothly, still scrolling through the bouquets.
Mingi leaned on the bar, pointing an accusing finger at Seonghwa. “If you actually show up with diamond flowers, I’m banning you from this bar. Forever.”
“Noted,” Seonghwa said dryly, but his small smirk betrayed him. In the end, as they continued their banter, he bookmarked a bouquet of white tulips, lavender, and garden roses. Simple, elegant, and meaningful—just like the person he had in mind.
Mingi leaned against the counter, casually swirling a drink in his hand as he eyed Seonghwa. “So, Mr. Park, when’s the big engagement happening? Got a date set, or are we still in the ‘waiting for permission’ phase?”
Seonghwa sighed, setting his glass down. “There’s no date yet, Mingi. Y/N hasn’t even said yes to the idea of us being engaged.”
Wooyoung gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Are you telling me you, Park Seonghwa, the epitome of everything women dream of, haven’t locked this down yet? What is she waiting for? A meteor shower? A handwritten letter from Cupid?”
“Or maybe she’s just sensible,” Mingi cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not everyone is swept off their feet by Seonghwa’s brooding CEO charm.”
“I’d argue it’s the lack of charm,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Seonghwa.
“She promised to give us a chance and get to know me better,” Seonghwa said evenly, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his tone. “I want her to feel comfortable with the idea before anything happens. She deserves that.”
Mingi nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But do you think she’ll say yes eventually?”
Seonghwa hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. That’s up to her. I can’t force it. All I can do is show her how serious I am about this… about her.”
Wooyoung snorted. “Serious? Please. You’re practically one step away from carving her name into your desk like some lovesick teenager.”
“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said warningly, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Wooyoung shot back, grinning. “I’m just saying, if you want her to say yes, you should make a grand gesture. You know, flowers, fireworks, maybe even a plane with a banner that says ‘Marry Me, Y/N.’”
“Do you hear yourself?” Seonghwa asked, exasperated.
“Actually, the flowers idea isn’t bad,” Mingi mused. “Not the plane, though. That’s overkill. But… Isn’t this one of those mutual agreements? Like, you both sit down with your parents and say, ‘Okay, let’s do it on this date with this theme?’”
“That’s how it usually works in families like ours,” Seonghwa admitted. “But…” He trailed off, his fingers idly tapping the edge of his glass.
“But?” Wooyoung pressed, his grin widening.
“I’d rather propose,” Seonghwa said finally, his voice quiet but firm.
The table went silent for a moment before Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “What?! Mr. Tradition himself wants to go rogue?!”
Mingi burst out laughing. “Rogue? He just wants to be romantic, you idiot,” Mingi said, before his tone dropped to a more sincere one. “She deserves to feel special, hyung. If proposing is what feels right to you, then do it. Forget all that business nonsense for a second.”
Hongjoong smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Listen to them for once, Hwa. They’re making sense. For once.”
Seonghwa chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “You’re all impossible, you know that?”
“Impossible but wise,” Wooyoung said, tipping his glass toward Seonghwa. “So are we getting involved? Do I get to sprinkle flower petals or something?”
Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but the small, genuine smile playing on his lips said it all. “We’ll see.”
But deep down, as the laughter and teasing continued, Seonghwa was already envisioning the perfect moment. One that would show you just how much he cared—beyond business, beyond expectation, beyond everything.
-x-x-x-
The grandeur of the evening was almost overwhelming, even by your family’s standards. You were at an exclusive charity gala hosted at a sprawling estate, complete with chandeliers, a live orchestra, and servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres.
Dressed in a sleek navy gown, you stood by your parents and Hongjoong, exchanging pleasantries with various guests. Across the room, you spotted Seonghwa with his parents, his sharp black suit highlighting his striking features. He was speaking with an older couple, but his gaze kept flickering in your direction.
“Y/N, Hongjoong, come meet the Baek family,” your father said, steering you both toward an elegantly dressed couple. Beside them stood two men—one looked to be in his late 30s, his wedding ring catching the light as he sipped his drink. The other, however, appeared younger, perhaps in his early 30s. His tailored suit and confident smile screamed wealth and charm.
“This is Mr. and Mrs. Baek,” your father introduced, “and their sons, Baek Hyunwoo and Baek Youngha. They run Baek Pharmaceuticals.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said politely, extending your hand.
Baek Youngha’s handshake lingered just a moment too long, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that felt deliberate. “The pleasure is mine, Ms. Kim. I’ve heard a lot about Aurum Medical Technologies. Impressive work for someone so young.”
“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile, stepping back slightly to create some distance.
As the conversation flowed, Youngha seemed particularly interested in you, asking about your work and future plans. Hongjoong, ever the protective brother, subtly stepped in to steer the conversation whenever it veered too personal.
From across the room, Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. He had noticed the way Baek Youngha’s gaze lingered on you, his expression far too appraising for Seonghwa’s liking.
“Who’s that?” Jongho asked, following Seonghwa’s line of sight.
“Baek Youngha,” Seonghwa muttered. “Youngest son of Baek Pharmaceuticals. And apparently, he doesn’t know how to keep his eyes to himself.”
San smirked, sipping his drink. “Jealous much?”
“Not jealous,” Seonghwa replied, his tone clipped. “Just observant.”
San raised an eyebrow. “Right. Observant. That’s why you’re glaring daggers at the guy.”
Meanwhile, you felt Seonghwa’s eyes on you but tried to focus on the conversation. Youngha leaned in slightly, his tone conspiratorial. “If you ever want to discuss potential collaborations between Aurum and Baek Pharmaceuticals, I’d be happy to arrange a private meeting.”
Before you could respond, Hongjoong interjected smoothly. “I’m sure any discussions like that would need to go through the proper channels. Our teams can coordinate if necessary.”
Youngha chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Of course. I’m just offering my personal insight.”
“Insight is always welcome,” you said politely, though you could feel Seonghwa’s gaze boring into the side of your head.
As the conversation wrapped up, you excused yourself to get a drink, feeling the need to escape the intensity of the interaction. Seonghwa seized the opportunity, making his way across the room to intercept you at the bar.
“You seemed… popular over there,” he remarked, his tone light but his eyes serious.
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Just networking.”
“Networking,” he repeated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s one way to describe it.”
You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Park, are you jealous?”
His eyes darkened slightly, leaning in just enough for only you to hear. “I don’t get jealous. But I do protect what’s mine.”
The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the bustling gala seemed to fade into the background. “Am I yours, Seonghwa?” you asked softly, testing the waters.
He straightened, his expression softening but still intense. “I’d like you to be.”
Before you could respond, Hongjoong appeared, his timing impeccable as always. “Y/N, we have another family to meet.”
You glanced back at Seonghwa, his gaze unwavering. “We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice low but filled with promise.
As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the pull between you growing stronger, the line between business and personal becoming increasingly blurred.
After speaking to couple more people, you excused yourself from a conversation, making your way over to the bar for another drink. The evening had been exhausting enough, and you needed a moment to yourself. As you reached the bar and picked up a glass of wine, a voice cut through the soft hum of conversations.
“Y/N! Over here!”
You turned to see Youngha waving at you with a grin, standing in a corner with San, Jongho, Seonghwa, and Hyunwoo. His invitation was warm, almost too eager, and you hesitated for a moment before walking over.
As you approached, Youngha pulled out a chair for you from the table right beside them with an exaggerated flourish. “Come join us. We were just discussing how someone like you probably has all the answers to the medical industry’s problems.”
You offered a polite smile as you sat down. “I highly doubt that, but I’m happy to join the conversation.”
Youngha leaned in slightly, his gaze lingering a little too long. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. From what I’ve heard, you’re quite the trailblazer. Smart, accomplished, and strikingly beautiful—a rare combination.”
San and Jongho exchanged a quick glance, their eyes darting toward Seonghwa, whose expression was unreadable but clearly strained. He stood slightly to the side, his arms crossed, watching the exchange with a carefully controlled demeanor.
“Thank you,” you replied, maintaining your composure. “I’m just doing my best, like everyone else.”
“You’re far too modest,” Youngha said with a chuckle, his tone playful but with an undercurrent of something else. “Someone like you deserves recognition. Maybe even someone who can match your ambition and drive.” His hand brushed lightly against the back of your chair, his intent far from subtle.
Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, and he straightened, his presence suddenly commanding. “Recognition is earned through hard work, not flattery,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a sharpness that cut through the air.
Youngha smirked, unfazed. “True, but a little encouragement never hurts, does it?” He glanced at you, his smile widening. “Y/N seems to appreciate it.”
“I’m sure Y/N appreciates sincerity more than hollow compliments,” Seonghwa countered, his eyes narrowing slightly.
San coughed to stifle a laugh, and Jongho took a sip of his drink, hiding his amusement. The tension between the two men crackled in the air, and you could feel it radiating off Seonghwa in waves.
“I assure you, my compliments are anything but hollow,” Youngha said smoothly, raising his glass toward you. “To Y/N, for being an exceptional presence in a room full of ordinary people.”
You tried to redirect the conversation, not wanting things to escalate further. “That’s very kind of you, but I think we’re all extraordinary in our own ways.”
Youngha chuckled, tilting his head toward Seonghwa. “Perhaps some of us have to work a little harder to stand out.”
Seonghwa’s smile was tight, his voice measured. “It’s not about standing out, Youngha. It’s about substance. Something you can’t fake.”
The subtle jab didn’t go unnoticed, and Youngha’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Substance, of course. But let’s not forget that charm has its own value.”
“Charm fades,” Seonghwa replied coolly, his eyes locked on Youngha’s. “Substance lasts.”
San leaned over to Jongho, whispering, “This is getting spicy. Should we step in?”
Jongho shook his head, a sly grin on his face. “Not a chance. This is better than a drama.”
You cleared your throat, desperate to break the tension. “Well, this has been an interesting discussion, but I think I need some air.”
Youngha stood immediately, offering his hand. “Allow me to escort you—”
“She’ll be fine,” Seonghwa interjected, stepping closer to you, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hand lightly grazed your elbow, guiding you away from the group.
As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the heat in Seonghwa’s gaze and the way his touch lingered just a little too long. Youngha watched you both with a knowing smirk, but Seonghwa didn’t look back.
Seonghwa led you toward the balcony, away from the hum of voices and the clinking of glasses. The night air was crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the tension you’d just escaped, and you were glad there was no one else at this balcony.
“Something bothering you?” you asked innocently, your voice laced with teasing undertones.
He turned to face you with a sharpness in his gaze that made your breath hitch. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice cool, though his eyes burned with something far hotter.
You smirked, tilting your head as you took a step closer, your boldness amplified by the wine you’d been nursing earlier. “I think Baek Youngha got under your skin.”
Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a thin line. “He’s irrelevant.”
“Is he?” you pressed, your tone deliberately playful. “Because from where I was seated, he seemed to be having a lot of fun trying to charm me. And you seemed… tense.”
“I wasn’t tense,” he snapped, too quickly, his eyes narrowing at the curve of your lips. “I was just—”
“Jealous?” you finished for him, stepping closer until you were inches apart, your voice dropping into something softer, almost daring. “You didn’t like the way he was looking at me, did you?”
His breath caught for a fraction of a second, his composure slipping just enough for you to notice. “He shouldn’t have been looking at you like that,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. “And you shouldn’t have been entertaining it.”
“Entertaining it?” You laughed softly, your fingers brushing the edge of his cuff as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “What if I was?”
His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to catch your wrist, holding it firmly but gently. “Don’t test me, Y/N,” he warned, his voice a husky murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.
You raised a brow, your smirk widening as you leaned closer, your voice a whisper. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Seonghwa. I think I might.”
His grip on your wrist tightened just slightly, his free hand coming up to your waist, hovering there like he wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer. “You’re playing with fire yet again, sweetheart,” he said, his tone rough, a warning, but there was no mistaking the flicker of desire in his eyes.
“Maybe I want to get burned again,” you replied boldly, your heart pounding in your chest.
Before he could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. San appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his timing impeccable as always. “There you are,” he said casually, glancing between the two of you. “Thought I’d find you here. Hongjoong is looking for you.”
You chuckled, grateful for the interruption, though the lingering heat of Seonghwa’s words stayed with you. “Guess we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Seonghwa gave you a small smile before stepping back, allowing you to lead the way.
You rejoined the crowd, a polite smile plastered on your face as your thoughts raced. Seonghwa’s intense gaze lingered in your mind, and despite your best efforts, the memory of his voice—low and dangerous—sent a thrill through you.
Hongjoong appeared by your side, handing you a fresh glass of champagne. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”
You laughed lightly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine. Just a bit warm in here.”
“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Seonghwa and the little disappearing act you two pulled earlier, would it?”
You choked on your drink, glaring at your brother. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how you and lover boy vanished for a good five minutes and came back looking… well, let’s just say the air around you was heavy,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Hongjoong, please,” you muttered, your cheeks heating. “It was nothing. Nothing happened.”
“Sure,” he drawled, clearly unconvinced. “Well, just a heads-up—Youngha hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked back in. And Seonghwa hasn’t stopped glaring at him.”
You glanced across the room, spotting Youngha chatting with some older businessmen. True to Hongjoong’s words, his gaze flickered to you more often than not. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed your every move.
The tension was palpable, and the evening dragged on as you navigated small talk and pleasantries. At one point, Mrs. Baek found you, her warm smile a contrast to the subtle competitiveness in her tone as she spoke about her sons and their achievements.
“Youngha’s been asking about you,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “It’s rare for him to show interest in anyone at these events.”
You smiled politely, feeling the weight of her words. “That’s flattering. But I’m not sure he and I have much in common.”
“Perhaps not,” she mused, “but sometimes opposites attract.”
Before you could respond, Seonghwa appeared at your side, his presence commanding as always. “Mrs. Baek,” he greeted smoothly, his voice polite but cool. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening.”
“Oh, I am,” she replied, her smile faltering slightly under his steady gaze. “Y/N was just telling me how charming my younger son, Youngha, is. I take it you have certainly met my son before?”
Seonghwa’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but his smile didn’t waver. “Youngha is certainly… persistent,” he said, his tone carrying just the slightest edge.
You bit back a laugh, feeling the tension crackling between them. “Excuse us, Mrs. Baek,” Seonghwa said suddenly, his hand brushing your lower back as he guided you away. “I need to borrow Ms. Kim here for a moment.”
Once you were out of earshot, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Jealous again?”
He stopped, turning to face you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t get jealous.”
“Right,” you drawled, crossing your arms. “So that little comment about Youngha being persistent was just casual observation?”
“Call it what you want,” he replied, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “But I wasn’t about to let Mrs. Baek start matchmaking you with him.”
You rolled your eyes, your lips twitching in amusement. “I can handle myself, you know.”
“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “But I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
Something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a moment, the noise of the gala faded into the background. His hand lingered at your back, his touch warm and grounding.
“Let’s just get through tonight,” you said finally, your voice quieter. “No more drama.”
He nodded, his expression unreadable. “No more drama.”
After the gala successfully concluded and you had dinner, you headed back home with your family, Seonghwa trailing behind as he needed to collect some documents from Hongjoong’s office. The ride had been mostly quiet, everyone tired from the long evening.
Once home, your parents quickly retired to bed, muttering about early meetings the next day. Hongjoong and Seonghwa lingered in the office room, discussing business matters, but even your brother eventually called it a night, leaving Seonghwa alone in the hallway. Meanwhile, you had settled in the living room, still buzzing with energy from the evening. You had just finished a call with Yeri when you saw Seonghwa emerging from the office, car keys in hand.
“Heading out?” you called, standing up and walking over to him.
He turned, surprised to see you still awake. “Yeah, I was just about to.”
“Stay a bit?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “If you’re free, that is.”
His expression softened, the faintest smile breaking through his usual composed demeanor. “Are you sure? It’s late.”
“I don’t sleep early anyway,” you replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.
“Come on then. Let’s chill in my room.”
He raised an eyebrow, but there was no mistaking the amusement in his expression. “Your room?”
“What? Too scandalous for you, Mr. Park?” you teased, already heading toward the stairs. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave.”
“I’m more worried about myself,” he muttered under his breath, though he followed you up the staircase.
You opened your bedroom door and stepped inside, gesturing for him to follow. “Make yourself comfortable.”
His gaze swept over the space as he entered. Your room was an eclectic mix of modern chic and cozy charm, a reflection of your personality. He walked toward the small seating area near the window, pausing to look at the neatly arranged books on your shelf.
“Nice setup,” he said, glancing back at you. “Very you.”
“Thanks,” you replied, sitting cross-legged on your bed. “What do you think? Should I add a shrine for all my business awards?”
“That might be overkill,” he deadpanned, though the corners of his mouth twitched.
“You’re no fun.” You reached for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the ambient lights that cast a soft glow across the room. “I’m going to change out of this. Be right back.”
Seonghwa nodded and took a seat on the chair near your window, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he nodded. “Take your time.”
With a small smile, you walked into your walk-in closet, flipping the light on. You set your bag on the shelf and began unclasping your jewelry, placing each piece carefully in its box. The faint murmur of Seonghwa shifting in the other room was the only sound as you reached behind to unzip your dress.
But the zipper refused to budge.
“Seriously?” you muttered, twisting and turning to no avail. After a minute of struggling, you gave up with an exasperated sigh.
Poking your head out of the closet door, you found Seonghwa leaning back in the chair, one leg crossed over the other. His suit jacket and tie were taken off, and the first two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. He glanced up when he noticed you, his brows arching in question.
“Uh… can you help me?” you asked, walking over to him, your tone casual despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “My zipper’s stuck.”
His expression flickered with surprise, then amusement, though he didn’t hesitate to rise from the chair. “Of course.”
Turning your back to him, you felt the warmth of his presence as he stood close behind you. His hands hesitated at first before pushing your hair to one side and then hovering near the zipper.
“Here?” he asked softly, his voice low and careful.
“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice barely audible.
His fingers brushed against your back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, he tugged it down, the sound of the unzipping loud in the quiet space. The fabric loosened, revealing more of your skin inch by inch. His touch was light, deliberate, but the tension in the air was anything but.
“There,” he murmured when he reached the small of your back, his voice rougher than before.
You turned to face him, clutching the gown to your chest to keep it from slipping. “Thanks,” you said, though the words came out softer than intended.
His eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The confined space seemed to shrink as the charged silence stretched. His gaze dropped briefly to your exposed shoulder, then back to your face, and the intensity in his expression made your pulse race.
“You should…” He trailed off, but his voice had a husky edge now. “Finish changing.”
A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips. “You’re right,” you said, your tone deliberately light, even as you felt the heat rolling off him. “But it’s much more fun to see you like this.”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice lower now, though his composure was clearly slipping.
“Like you’re trying very hard to look anywhere but here.” You gestured to your bare shoulder with a teasing flick of your fingers, stepping closer.
He took a steadying breath, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides. “I’m not trying anything,” he replied, though the slight rasp in his tone betrayed him. He lightly cleared his throat. “Anything else you need?” he asked, his tone laced with challenge.
You stepped closer, tilting your head. “Depends,” you murmured, the gown slipping slightly under your grip, exposing more of your chest that immediately caught his eyes. “Can you handle more than a zipper?”
His jaw clenched, his composure visibly cracking. “Y/N…” The way he said your name was almost a warning, but his hand rose, skimming your bare arm before settling firmly on your waist.
“What?” you teased, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Afraid you’ll lose control?”
“I’m not afraid, sweetheart” he shot back, his voice low and gravelly. “But you’re pushing me again.”
“And?” you whispered, closing the distance between you. “What are you going to do about it?”
His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “This,” he growled, before capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but hesitant.
The dress slipped from your grasp, pooling at your feet, leaving you in your matching navy lingerie, but you couldn’t have cared less. His hands were on you, strong and unrelenting, and the heat between you burned away any pretense of restraint as the kiss deepened into something raw, urgent, and utterly consuming.
Seonghwa’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you impossibly closer, his touch both possessive and reverent. You matched his energy, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to elicit a low groan from him that vibrated against your lips. It sent a jolt of electricity straight through you, making you press even closer, as though the two of you couldn’t get close enough no matter how hard you tried.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.
You smirked, brushing your lips against his again in a teasing kiss. “I might have an idea.”
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”
“And yet, you can’t stay away,” you shot back, your boldness fueled by the fire between you.
“I don’t want to,” he admitted, his tone dropping, heavy with meaning. His lips found the curve of your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your knees weak. You leaned into him, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as his mouth continued its maddening path along your skin.
“Seonghwa…” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and warning.
His name on your lips seemed to snap something in him, and he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet filled with a tension that left no room for doubt. “If this is too much, tell me now.”
You met his gaze steadily, your hands slipping down to the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t want you to stop,” you said while undoing the buttons and pushing his shirt off him. “I want this. I want you.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips crashed into yours once more, and this time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. He lifted you effortlessly, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed. You sank onto it, pulling him down with you, your bodies moving in sync as if they’d always known exactly how to fit together.
Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word fueled the fire between you, the room around you fading into oblivion. All that existed was him—his hands, his lips, his presence, consuming you in a way that felt exhilarating.
He pulled away from kissing you to trail kisses from your neck to the valley of your clothed boobs. Your hard nipples were visible beneath the lacy fabric and Seonghwa delicately placed kisses on each one before continuing his journey down your body until he reached the waistband of your thong.
“May I?” he asked for consent, and you nodded in response. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes… please,” you said, hips slightly bucking up in urgency, making him chuckle.
“So needy for me.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing it aside. He gently spread your legs wide apart before moving to settle in between your legs. He latched onto your clit, his wet tongue darting out to lick the bud. Your hand moved into his hair, gently tugging on his long strands, and your body feels like it’s on fire. He licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, letting out a small moan at your taste. He repeats his actions a couple of times before latching onto your clit again, gently sucking the nub. You squirm, bucking your hips up, and he smirks, moving his arms around your thighs to hold you down in place so you couldn’t move.
“Hwa… god, fuck,” you moan. He hums before lapping at your clit in a faster pace that had you gripping his hair. He let go of one of your thighs to bring his hand to your hole, slipping a finger inside while continuing to lap at your clit, the combination sending you into a moaning spree. It felt so so good, and you chanted his name over and over again while he increased his pace. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened and your hips kept bucking up.
Seonghwa knew you were close, and he continued his actions until you were crying out his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your body shaking in response. He licked up all your juices before letting your thighs go, putting his fingers in his mouth to suck them dry. “Delicious,” he commented, and you chuckled breathlessly before you sat up and reached out to his pants. He understood what you wanted and pushed his pants down swiftly along with his briefs, his cock springing out, the tip already a bit leaky.
You moved to wrap your hand around his dick, pumping it a few times. Your thumb brushed along his slit, spreading his pre-cum around. He audibly sucked in a breath through his teeth and you leaned forward to take his cock in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down his length, trying to take him as much as you can in your mouth, using your hand to cover his remaining length. His hand moved to hold your hair back while he watched you suck him off. His cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to lightly gag, but you continued your movements on him.
“Y/N… my love… fuck…” he murmured, throwing his head back. You hum, the vibration earning a groan from him. You let his cock slip from your mouth and before you could take him in again, he stopped you. “I’d rather cum in you, sweetheart, if that’s okay?”
“That’s okay,” you said and sit up on your bed, patting the space beside you. Seonghwa sat down and you wasted no time in straddling his lap. “I’m on the pill,” you inform him before aligning his dick with your entrance. You leaned in to take his lips in yours while you sunk down on his cock, moaning at the way he stretched you out.
“So fucking tight, so warm,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again. You gave yourself a minute to adjust, slowly rolling your hips against his before picking up the pace. His hands were wrapped around your body, holding you in place while you bounced on his dick. The sound of skin slapping, heavy breathing, and your moans filled the air and you were grateful that your room was soundproof.
In one swift step, Seonghwa moved you onto your back so he could take control. He thrusted in and out of you in a comfortable pace, your legs moving around his waist. You pulled him even closer, and you felt him go deeper. “Seonghwa…” you cried out his name when he kept repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
He wet a finger with his mouth before bringing it to your clit, rubbing the nub in up and down motions. Your back arched while he fucked your pussy, and before you knew it, you reached your climax, legs shaking rigorously.
“I’m almost there, sweetheart, hold on,” he said, leaning down to reconnect your lips while he moved faster. In a few more seconds, he stilled, spilling his cum into you, his cock pulsing. He moved slowly, milking himself dry before pulling out and collapsing next to you. The two of you laid on your bed in silence, trying to calm down your heavy breathing.
Seonghwa reached out to cup your face with one hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. He glanced around your room, looking for something.
“Where are your tissues?” he asked.
“In the bathroom,” you replied, sitting up. Before you could get off the bed, he put his arm around your back and under your knees, lifting you up bridal-style while he carried you to the bathroom. You giggled in response, earning a wide grin from him before he set you down in your bathroom. He washed his hands while you peed and cleaned yourself, and you noticed the way his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. God, he was so beautiful.
You moved to wrap your arms around him from behind, looking at his reflection in the large mirror of your bathroom. He placed his hands over yours, a happy and relaxing sigh leaving him. “How do you feel?”
“I feel great,” you said with a smile. “How do you feel?”
“Rejuvenated.” You chuckled at that.
“Shower with me?” you asked innocently.
How could he ever say no?
#ateez#seonghwa#park seonghwa#ateez ff#ateez fanfic#ateez seonghwa#ateez x reader#ateez series#ateez smut#seonghwa imagines#jung wooyoung#choi san#wooyoung#kang yeosang#jeong yunho#song mingi#kim hongjoong#seonghwa angst#seonghwa smut#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa ateez#ateez stories#ateez ceo au#ceo ateez#ateez arranged marriage au#ceo seonghwa
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memory fails- c.berzatto
a/n: this is lowkey saddddd but wtv. this was intended for fem!reader but it's only mentioned once so feel free to imagine what you like :) also I fucking love Monk.
summary: there's no way carmy forgot such an important date, right? You'd better go down to the restaurant and check.
pairings: carmenberzatto x reader, platonic!syndeyadamu x reader
warnings: breaking up, parental loss, failing relationship, mean carmy, brief mention of sex, mentions of feeling used in a relationship, smoking.
Everything was too loud. His head hurt, his body ached and all he fucking wanted was to be at home, with you. He stepped outside the noisy kitchen and lit a cigarette, a habit he knew you hated but he just couldn’t take this anymore. Why did I leave my bed this morning? He asked himself again and again.
This morning, you were beside him, arms wrapped around his neck as he lazily kissed a trail up your neck, electing small giggles from your drowsy state. Today was meant to be his day off, but fucking Nat called him in for a meeting with Cicerio, a meeting that didn’t even happen. So now, here he was standing outside his own restaurant, the last place he wanted to be right then. He had spent the day practicing fucking timing in the kitchen. The sun was setting, he knew he’d missed the day with you. He knew you’d be upset. Never mad, always just upset, or frustrated. Just never fucking mad. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you mad. He brought the cigarette to his lips again as he smiled at the image of you that morning, one that will be burnt into his brain forever.
“Cousin! Your girl’s here!” Richie shouted from inside and Carmen’s daydream was shattered. He exhaled the remaining smoke and off he went, back inside where he saw you, arms crossed against your chest, looking guarded and upset.
“Hey, what’s up?” He asked as he pulled you into his office for some privacy. Richie, Tina and Sydney gave him stern looks.
“You remember what today is, right?” You asked him, a slight wobble in your voice. He scoured his brain for a few seconds and that was all you needed. “You don’t.”
“Sunshine, I’m sorry I-”
“Carm, if you don’t have time for this relationship anymore then what are we doing?” you sigh, sitting on the small black couch in the corner. “I’m sick of feeling like I don’t matter.”
“Sunshine, what? You matter more than anyone, more than anything! Wh-where is this coming from?”
“It’s my dad’s anniversary. You didn’t show up. Sydney showed up, Nat showed up, Tina showed up, hell, even fucking Cicero showed up! And my own boyfriend didn’t? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You were getting mad. For the first time ever he was seeing you get mad. His heart broke. He had made you mad. He made his sunshine mad. “I just wanted 45 minutes of your time to visit his grave!” That’s why it was just him and Ritchie in the restaurant earlier.
“Fuck…” He sighed out.
“Yeah Carmen, ‘fuck’! At this point, I’m kind of ready to break up Carmen! If this is how important to you I am, then maybe we’re fucking done!” You shouted, the entire restaurant and kitchen could hear you, thank god there were no customers but fuck, how could he miss such an important date?
His face dropped. You couldn’t actually mean that, right?
“Sunshine please-”
“No Carmen. I come second to fucking everything in your life! Today was the day you promised to be there for me! It’s not fucking fair.”
“Sunshine, you know that work is important,” he tried to reason and when he looked up he knew he had made a grave mistake.
“More important than me? More important than my dad’s fucking one-anniversary? More important than being there for me?” you challenged.
“Yes! Sometimes, yes! Not everything is always about you!” He shouted, and trust him, he knew he shouldn’t have. What he really wanted was to apologise and spend the next few days making it up to you. But he didn’t. He just dug himself a deeper hole. “Fuck’s sake- sunshine, just drop it!”
Had he had the emotional strength to look up, he would’ve seen the hurt evident in your face. He would’ve noticed the way your eyes glazed and how you started shaking.
“Fuck you.” You practically whispered. “Fuck your restaurant and fuck this shit. I have to at least allow myself some fucking self-respect Carmen! You don’t get to treat me like this anymore! We’re done.” You turn on your heel, walking out of the restaurant as Sydney follows after you, and Richie starts giving Carmen hell.
“Yo, that seemed pretty heated back there-” She started saying, trying to catch up to you.
“Please Syd, just… leave me alone,” you sighed, leaning against the wall outside the restaurant.
“I’m sure this is just… like he’s just being a dick-”
“He forgot the one thing I needed him to remember. The only fucking thing I asked him to remember. I never care when he misses my birthday, any and all family things, fucking date nights. I never care. I’m always understanding. But I’m so done. I’m done with this feeling- I-I’m just… I feel like I’m the only one who cares, y’know? Like I’m the only one who ever puts any fucking effort into our relationship, a-and when he finally does, it’s like he’s expecting a fucking medal for just… being a boyfriend. And I understand that he’s struggling, but there’s only so much comforting and support I can give before I feel like I’m being used. I am being used Syd. All he does is come home and he's either crying or manic, or mad, so I comfort him, and then he asks if he can fuck me, and of fucking course I say yes, because he’s looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes. And then he turns over and falls asleep, and I’m fucking alone again. I’m struggling too! My dad died! My…” You trailed off as Sydney pulled you into a comforting hug. “I fucking hate myself for staying with him, just hoping he’d be better,” you explain as sobs wrack your body. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you.
“He’s an asshole, and I think we both know you’re better without him, but I get this is hard too. How about we go back to yours and watch some Monk? It was your dads favourite, right?” She offered, a kind smile on her lips.
“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled through your tears.
“I’ll go grab my stuff, be back in a minute,” she smiled and walked back inside the building, leaving you with your thoughts.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I-is she ok?” Carmen’s eyes were on Sydney as she walked back inside the building.
“Fuck you Carmen,” Ritchie sighed, as Sydney started grabbing her things from her locker, ignoring his question. “You don’t deserve to know if she’s ok!”
“You didn’t go either!” Carmen pointed out.
“Yeah, cause I went with her to the grave yesterday, y’know, since I have my fucking job today?!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Look, I’m heading out, night,” Sydney mumbled out as she slung her bag over her shoulder, walking swiftly towards the door.
“Wait! Just… a-are we broken up then?” Carmen asked, terrified of the answer. The restaurant stilled.
“Yes,” all of them answered, Tina’s voice the loudest. It was unanimous. You were gone from his life. Carmen stalked into his office and slammed the door, a loud “Fuck!” could be heard, as well as things falling to the floor.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sydney walked back out to you and grabbed your arm, whisking you away from The Bear and to her couch, binge watching episodes of Monk with her and her dad, popcorn and beer in your hands until you inevitably fell asleep on her floor.
Carmen didn’t sleep that night. He just kept thinking about you that morning, the small smile in the darkness. Your soft skin against his lips and hands. Your lips against his. Your kind eyes. Your sing-song voice. Your sweet smell. Your perfect smile. Your determination and unbreakable spirit. You.
He had a lot to make up for, but how?
#carmy the bear#the bear fx#sydney adamu#carmy berzatto#the bear#syd adamu#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear fanfiction#the bear fic#fanfic#fandom
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A House That Has Everything: Chapter 3
A/N: I'M BACK AND I'M BRINGING THIS ONE BACK WITH ME. I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted one of these, but here is chapter 3! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.
Summary: Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?
Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (female & male), and some very sexy thoughts
Word count: ~2.5k
He doesn't even know her name.
******
It's still dark when Mr. Presley wakes from a light and fitful sleep. His dreams were filled with images of the maid, but he could never see her face. No matter how many times he turned her around, her face never appeared to him. His nightshirt is soaked in sweat and his hair is stuck to his forehead. He tries to go back to sleep, but is haunted by the same image again, so he decides to get out of bed. It's too early to wake his valet to dress him, so he pulls on some trousers and an unbuttoned shirt with a jacket. Running his fingers through his hair, he checks his reflection in the small glass. Inappropriate for a gentleman, but he doesn't have plans to see anyone.
He heads for the stables. Time spent with the horses usually relaxes him, but on his way he passes the library. Suddenly, he has an overwhelming need to go in and wait for the maid. She should be coming around to make the fire soon. Maybe he could apologize for his behavior yesterday. He wants to apologize for last night, too, but he would sooner die than admit to what he did. Completely forgetting how disheveled he is, he walks into the library to settle in one of the chairs with a book.
*****
Annabelle wakes at her normal time and dresses sleepily. Yawning, she collects the things she needs to tend the fires and starts on her daily routine. She thinks nothing of going into the library and does so without caution, like she's done every day since she's been there. Again, she's met with a surprise.
Mr. Presley sits in one of the large armchairs with his chin on his hand and a book in his lap. When she sees him, she gasps quietly and tries to turn and walk from the room.
“Wait, please, miss.” His voice is soft and kind, a startling contrast to yesterday morning when he yelled at her.
“Mr. Presley?” She cautiously walks towards him a little. He's an absolute vision sitting there in his unbuttoned shirt, his chest hair visible in the opening. For a second, she gets lost in thinking about touching him, but she quickly corrects herself.
“Come here.” He gestures for her to walk closer to him. She sets down her fire-tending supplies and walks over to him in the chair. In the time it takes her to get there, he stands up, his 6 foot frame towering over her 5 foot one. “What's your name?”
Her mouth drops open a little, both with the nature of his question and his tone of voice when he asks. He's gentle and sincere and it catches her off guard.
“Annabelle. Annabelle Martin, sir.” Before he can stop it, a small smile spreads across his face and he whispers.
“Annabelle.” She nods a little and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.
“I need to tend the fire, sir.”
“Oh, of course.” He gestures to the fireplace and she walks over to settle herself in front of it. She's keenly aware of his eyes on her as she works, but she can't figure out why he would want to watch her. It's quite distracting, him just standing there, and she slips and drops a piece of wood. She catches it, but she also feels a splinter dig into her finger and gives a small yelp. He drops to his knee beside her quickly.
“Are you alright?” She nods and looks up into his face. His eyebrows are pulled together in concern and he's so close that she can see his individual eyelashes. He really is beautiful and it kind of takes her breath away.
“It's just a splinter.” She holds her hand out and without thinking, he takes it in his softly. Her heart jumps with the subtle contact, but he seems to be focused on her injury. He leans down to look at the splinter.
“I think I can get it. May I try?” Their eyes meet again and this time it's his heart that skips.
“Yes, sir.” She whispers and they stare at each other for a beat before he looks back down at her pretty little hand and carefully extracts the small piece of wood. It takes him a couple of tries to get it fully, but eventually he does. He has an overwhelming desire to press his lips against her skin, but he holds back.
“There. Is that better?”
“Much. Thank you, sir.” He notices that her eyes are dark blue like the sky just before the sun disappears entirely.
“You can call me Elvis.” His voice is soft and kind and she feels like someone has poured warm honey inside her. But she shakes her head vehemently.
“Oh no, sir, I could never.” His heart sinks a little and he nods. She's right to refuse that lack of decorum between them. Still, he's overcome with a deep bitterness about the position he was born with. The money and status have their advantages, but he'd trade it all for the freedom to engage with people differently, especially now that he's met her. What would he give to be a simple farm boy right now?
“Right.” He stands up, turning away, and she finishes with the fire and then stands as well. His mood has darkened and she hopes it's not something she's done. She stands for a bit to see if he'll say anything, but he doesn't, so she turns to leave. Before she gets to the door she stops and looks back at him.
“I'm sorry if I offended you, sir.” He hangs his head and then turns to her.
“No. Sometimes I just wish… it's just…” He's not sure whether he should tell her the truth, but looking into her eyes makes it impossible to lie. “I'm quite lonely. And I forget that I'm not a person to you.”
Her heart breaks for him, all alone in this big house. There are people everywhere, but no one he can truly connect with. In this way, they have much in common.
“You are a person to me…” She pauses and then whispers. “...Elvis.”
He's shocked for a moment and then his face breaks into a smile that lights up her whole universe.
“Thank you, Annabelle.” She nods and then walks from the room. As soon as she's safely on the other side of the door, she leans back against the wall and closes her eyes, sighing deeply. Her heart is pounding and her hands are shaking. This cannot happen.
******
Annabelle goes about her daily business trying desperately to avoid running into Mr. Presley. She can't stop thinking about him, though. His soft eyes and smooth voice are constantly in her mind and she's started having dreams about him pulling her into his arms, propriety be damned. Several times she's woken up with such an aching between her thighs that she feels like she might explode. This is not how she needs to think about the man responsible for her livelihood.
Elvis spends his days doing his normal things, but he spends his nights whispering Annabelle's name into the darkness like a prayer. She consumes every open thought he has and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't trying to come up with another reason to talk to her.
One afternoon, he comes in from a meeting in town and is walking to his room to change when he hears something coming from one of the bedrooms. He quiets his steps and moves stealthily toward the door. Someone is singing a folk song in a beautiful soprano. The other maids don't sing while they work, so he knows it has to be Annabelle. He stands outside the door with his hand on his heart listening for a while. She sounds like a bird, hitting all the notes perfectly, her voice clear and strong. When she gets back to the chorus, he opens his mouth and adds the harmony.
Annabelle always sings while she works, so she doesn't think anything of it as she makes the bed. She barely even notices when another voice joins her song, but eventually she realizes it's a male voice, deep and smooth, and she freezes. When the sheet that she'd thrown out settles, she sees him standing in the doorway.
“You don't have to stop on my account.” He gives her a small and playful smile and there's a familiar heat between her legs. She swallows hard and tries to dispel the image of him throwing her on the half-made bed.
“I'm sorry to have disturbed you, sir.” She stands with her eyes wide like a bunny’s.
“You didn't. I was enjoying your song. This house needs some music.” He notices how nervous she seems and it crushes him a little. He'd been dreaming of the hint of familiarity she’d shown when he’d seen her last, hoping it might continue or even deepen. He walks a little further into the room and speaks softly. “Please don't call me ‘sir’.”
The quiet longing in his voice brings her out of her own head and back to a place of empathy. His wellbeing matters more to her than her own self-imposed discomfort. Still, she's not sure what to say next. What she really wants is to go to him and throw her arms around his shoulders, but that would be inappropriate on a level that even he would find shocking.
“Are you afraid of me?” He asks quietly, his voice edged with bitterness again.
“No, I'm not afraid of you, Elvis.” She whispers in return. And it's true. She's not afraid of him in the least. She's afraid of herself and her own desires.
“Good. I would like us to be…” He hesitates. Lovers? That's what he wants to be, but he could never say it. “...friends.”
She nods, not sure how she'll manage to control herself, but wanting to give him whatever he needs.
“We can be. I'd like that too.” He smiles again and she stifles a whimper. They stand there in silence for a few more seconds before he takes another step towards her and speaks.
“It is fitting that your name is what it is.” She looks at him curiously.
“Why is that?” He takes a deep breath and another step and continues.
“Bella means beautiful. And you are.” She tries to cover her sharp inhale by blinking, but he picks up on both and cocks his head to the side a little. Is he having the same effect on her that she has on him?
“Thank you… Elvis.” He decides to take a chance and walks directly to her, leaning inappropriately close to her ear.
“You're welcome, Bella.” As he pulls back to look her in the eye, the urge to kiss her is so overpowering that he has to turn away. He walks quickly to the door and disappears through it with such haste that she's left wondering if it actually happened. But the feeling in her stomach is undeniable.
He stops outside the door to steady himself, running his hand through his hair. Another second and he would've given in and had her right there on the freshly changed sheets. His head and his heart are both reeling as he tries to gather his composure.
Annabelle sinks onto the bed, her knees shaky and weak.
******
The small clock in her room reads 2:26am when Annabelle wakes with a whimper. Every time she closes her eyes, she's flooded with images of Elvis: his hands, his mouth, him ripping open her corset and pressing those perfect lips to places on her body that have never been seen by men. This time when she opens her eyes, her chest is heaving and the aching feeling between her legs is so strong that it's almost painful. Without thinking, she puts her hand there, holding herself and whimpering.
She's never been with a man in any way, having only kissed a few boys in the village, so the ways of pleasure are completely unknown to her. Still, her body seems to know what to do on its own as her hips begin to rock against her hand. A soft moan escapes her lips, but she needs more, more pressure or something. She looks around the small room, but of course there's no one there to see her. Her hand trembles, but she slowly slides it up her inner thigh under her nightgown. She's heard of women who experienced the delights of sin, but she never imagined herself to be one of them. Still, the ache is so strong that she almost can't stop herself.
As her fingers reach her center, the thought that Elvis could touch her like this explodes in her brain and her hips begin to rock again, her fingers slipping easily through the wet folds of her sex. If only his big hand was where hers is now, touching and teasing. She doesn't even realize that she's slipped a finger inside herself until she moans and adds a second one.
“Elvis…” She whispers in the darkness, her other hand clutching her breast, pinching her hardened nipple lightly. The image of his mouth on her drives her to pinch a little harder, pretending that it's his lips and teeth. She keeps her fingers pumping in and out as she rocks her hips and the other hand slides down her belly towards her center. And then she imagines his lips, his tongue, making their way down her body to this place that burns with need for him. She fumbles a bit, but it doesn't take her long to find a spot that makes her moan out loud and rub her fingertips over it with fervor. If only it were his tongue on this intimate place. The thought makes her clench around her own fingers as she rubs harder and faster.
“Oh God, Elvis!” She whisper-screams as the pleasure builds deep in her belly. And then she sees him on top of her. She knows from the other girls in the village what it means to make love and until now she never thought it sounded very pleasant. But right now, in this moment, she needs his cock inside her with a fire she didn't know was possible. Her mind is all lips and tongues and him moving his body against her, sliding in so deep, and before she knows it there's an explosion in her center and she bites her lip to keep from making too much noise. But she arches her back and bucks her hips and writhes as the pleasure overwhelms her and she pulses on her fingers and slows her other hand as the hardened bud softens.
“Elvis… yes…” She whimpers as she starts to come down from her high, sweating and panting. When she finally finishes, she lays in bed staring at the ceiling. Whatever that was, she needs to feel it with him.
Across the house, Elvis pumps his cock as the cum shoots out all over his hand and he moans.
“Bella…”
But it isn't enough.
******
Now what?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
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#elvis presley#elvis#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis fanfic#elvis presley fic#elvis smut#elvis fanfiction#elvis fic#elvis presley smut#elvis presley fanfic#elvis x oc#elvis x annabelle#elvis presley x oc#Elvis Presley x Annabelle Martin
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Baby Blues
First Lady of Private Garden Fic
AN: mature topic ahead, mentions of postpartum depression
Synopsis: The two of you are at odds once again, and deep down, Jack knows that there is something wrong with his wife but can't figure out what it is. He makes it his mission to get down to the bottom of it in order to help you.
Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader
The full fic to this concept
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
You massaged your temples as you sat down on your bed finally able to take a breather. All three babies had been officially home for two months and instead of it getting easier, you felt as if it was getting harder. Jack had been sent to the store by you to get more formula since your milk supply hadn't been that great lately. Probably due to the fact that you were barely eating, but that was another conversation.
The hope was that they would at least sleep for two hours so that you could lay down yourself, but you knew that it probably wouldn’t work out in your favor. You and Jack were still at odds and it would be sometimes awkward with both of you at home with the triplets which was 98% of the time. After almost losing you, that definitely took a toll on him, but the two of you would still argue about unnecessary things that wouldn't matter twenty four hours later.
In your mind you were trying your absolute hardest while trying to recover from having them since it hadn't been anything but easy. At this point, you didn't want to divorce him. Possibly legal separation, but the thought of divorcing him completely had never crossed your mind. Despite what had gone on in your marriage, at the end of the day you still loved him and couldn't see yourself living without him.
The front door opened indicating that Jack was back and you soon heard his footsteps as he made his way upstairs. He peeked in your bedroom and saw you sitting on the bed and staring off into space.
He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead and you gave him a weak smile.
“You feel okay, today?” He asked as he sat down next to you, but you just shrugged.
“I don't know. I just…” You got quiet and didn’t finish your sentence.
“Baby, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.” Jack replied as he grabbed your hand to place in his.
“I don't need any help. I'm fine.”
“Y/N, why are we doing this again? You're shutting me out and I'm trying to understand what is happening with my wife.”
“Hmm, so now you want to try and understand? You weren't concerned with how I felt basically the entire year in 2022 so why now?”
“I already apologized for that and I thought we moved past that.”
“Who moved past it? Because I didn't.”
“Why do we ALWAYS do this?” Jack exclaimed while throwing his hands up towards you, but all you did was attempt to put your excuse of hair into a ponytail because you didn’t know the last time you actually brushed it.
“We always don’t do anything, you brought it up so I answered your question.” You fired back while looking at the two mismatched socks on your feet.
“I’m trying here so the least you can do is cut me some slack!”
“Jackman, if this is what you call trying to at least attempt to act like you care about this marriage, this is one hell of a poor job.”
“Here we fucking go. Don’t you think that if I wanted a divorce or to separate from you that I would have done it already?” Jack asked and you could tell he was immediately filled with regret as his eyes went wide and all you did was stare at him.
“There’s still time to go to the courthouse today if that’s your heart’s desire since it’s only eleven in the morning. But let’s be serious I saved your fucking image because come the fuck on, I could have thrown your ass under the bus. No matter how you mistreated me and put your wife, someone that you gave your last name to on the back burner, I still did right by you. As much shit as you did and it wasn’t a secret, it got played out for the entire world to see but yet, I never spoke bad about you ONE TIME. Because as much as you constantly give me headaches, I love you and I do want to save this marriage. But if I’m the only one trying then fuck it. The one thing that really sticks out in my mind is when I actually did fight Anitta and you didn’t even ask me if I was okay, not once. Despite how she had acted towards me ever since she met me. I told you how I felt about her and all you did was ignore me in order to try and boost your career. The career that I helped you create, but whatever.” You simply shrugged your shoulders and tried to walk past Jack, but he caught your wrist and lightly tugged on it.
Deep down, he knew that he had been difficult towards you and it had been hard to process his emotions and Jack did feel some type of way about how he had treated you. He broke the one promise to you when you told him not to ever forget where he came from or the people that helped him get to where he was, but now he had done the exact opposite and the fame had got to his head.
It took him hearing it from his mother to finally realize it
“Y/N…. wait a second.”
All you did was turn to look up at him and let out a deep sigh.
“I promise to do better and do right by you….. And them. I’m sorry I just…. I know for a fact that I have to be better about expressing how I feel towards you and a few months ago, I thought that I was going to lose you forever. Please don’t ever think that I don’t love you because I do. I love you more than life itself and just for the past year I haven’t been the best husband that I could be and want to get back in your good graces and fix this. I’m tired of us fighting and we have three little ones that don’t need to grow up in a dysfunctional household. You know for a fact that divorce would never be an option for me on my end. I was serious when I asked you to marry me at nineteen and I’m still serious now.”
“It’s not just us anymore and they should always be your first thought.” You quietly said as you could hear through the baby monitor that they were awake.
“I’ll…. Go make an appointment with Fatima after I check on them.”
The two of you had been seeing a marriage counselor named Fatima and you could tell that she was genuine and also wanted the best for the two of you.
“That sounds like a good idea.” You quietly answered as you simply hugged yourself in your pink oversized sweater that Jack bought you years ago, not bothering to make eye contact with him.
“We’re going to get through this, baby. One step at a time.” Jack quietly said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
All you did was nod in response as you sat down on the bed and simply stared off into space.
Jack simply sighed as tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he walked out of your shared bedroom and was on his way to the triplets room when he pulled out his phone to do a quick google search.
He knew that something was wrong.
What are the signs of postpartum depression?
Insomnia.
Fatigue.
Poor appetite.
Mood swings.
Irritability.
As Jack kept reading the symptoms on the list, just about every one of them he had seen in you over the past month and he was kicking himself for not noticing sooner.
You were hurting and he was simply adding to it which was the last thing that he would have ever wanted to do. After checking on the triplets, he would text Fatima and look more into getting you help for this because this had to be the only explanation for what was going on with you. After coming home, you had been so happy and now it seems like a switch went off and you were the complete opposite. Jack quickly wiped away his tears before making his way into the triplets room to see Axel wide awake and staring at him. He quickly picked him up and cuddled him closer to his chest.
“Axel, I have to figure out what's going on with your mother and get her the help that she needs. I want for her to be able to see the three of you grow up, but if she keeps going how she is right now, that might not happen. I'm trying to be a better husband and a good father to you three, but I don't think I'm doing such a good job.” He quietly confessed as he brought him downstairs in order to make a bottle for him.
As he waited for it to heat up, he saw you come into the kitchen and attempted to take Axel from him. But you quickly heard his protests.
“Baby, go lay down. I got them. You're tired.”
“I'm fine. I can feed him.”
“Y/N, please just listen to me. Did you even sleep at all last night? You aren't fine.” Jack asked as you looked away from him and he knew that he had his answer.
“I need for you to rest. Don’t worry about them.”
“But…”
“Please don't argue with me. I know when my wife is tired.”
“Okay.” You quietly said as you made your way back upstairs.
When Jack had woken you up by kissing yojr forehead, it was starting to get dark outside and as you sat up in bed you simply sighed.
“Baby, come on. I ran bath water for you.” Jack didn't wait for a response as he grabbed your hand and led you into the bathroom and began to help you take off your clothes.
You glanced down at your scar across your abdomen and quickly looked away. It was still hard for you to look at seeing that you almost lost your life.
Jack helped you sit down in the bathtub and kissed your cheek and made sure you were settled.
“I'll get some clothes for you to wear and put them out on the bed and I'll order you some food. Wing Stop okay?”
You nodded your head as Jack left the bathroom, but he made sure to keep the door cracked in order to be able to hear you if you needed him. Ten minutes had probably passed before the tears started streaming down your face and they wouldn't stop no matter how hard you tried.
You were trying to stay quiet so that Jack wouldn't hear you, but he did once he had heard a loud sob. He immediately stopped what he was doing to go in the bathroom to check on you and the sight in front of him broke his heart.
“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?”
At this point your knees were to your chest as your head was resting on top of them and your arms were hugging your legs as you continued to sob.
“Jack…” You started to say before letting out another sob.
“Yes? Baby, you're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong.” He asked again as he was now sitting on the side of the tub next to you.
“That's the problem! I don't know! I'm so sad all the time. Why do I feel like this?”
“We're going to get you help. Whatever I have to do I'm going to make sure that my wife is okay.”
“Do you promise?” You asked in a whisper as you turned to look at him.
“I promise. You aren't going to feel like this forever if I have anything to do with it. I want you to get back to being your happy bubbly self. I haven't left your side since you got pregnant and I'm not leaving now. We're going to get through this.” Jack told you as he brushed some of your hair out of your face that had fallen out of the ponytail.
You nodded as Jack grabbed the Mielle shampoo that you used for your hair and began to massage it through your scalp. He didn't even know the last time you had washed it and figured that he would do it for you so that it was one less thing that you had to worry about.
As Jack washed your hair for you and conditioned it, your thoughts were running rampant. The last thing you wanted was to feel like this and you wanted to be the best possible mother to the triplets. You deserved it and they deserved it with as hard as it was bringing them into this world and all that you went through.
After he had rinsed out your hair, he grabbed an old t-shirt to wrap around it in order for it to be able to dry as he helped you out of the bathtub. Once he did and you were facing him, he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips which you gladly accepted.
“I love you and you’re going to be okay. We're going to be okay.” He whispered and you immediately nodded.
“I love you too.”
“Let me help you get dressed so I can finish your hair for you. You want me to blow dry it or let it air dry?”
“Blow dry it, please.”
“The Harlow salon is officially in business.” Jack said and you couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh.
Once Jack had finished your hair for you and putting it up, he made sure that you ate and the two of you were now sitting against the headboard in your bedroom as he was flipping through channels on the TV. You simply went and laid your head on his chest as his arms wrapped around you and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.
“Thank you for being here for me today.” You quietly said and you hugged him tighter.
“You don't have to thank me. You're my baby and your well being is important to me. I'm always going to make sure that you're okay and I’m sorry that it took me so long to notice.”
“Notice what?”
“That my wife was hurting. You have postpartum depression, baby. I looked it up and you have almost every single symptom.”
“Oh.”
“At least we know now what's wrong and we can do what we need to do in order to get you help. You mean everything to me even though I haven't been the best at showing it. But I'm going to do better for you and them.”
You hadn't even looked up the symptoms of it, but was going to take Jack’s word for it.
“I just want to feel better and be a good mom.”
“You will feel better and you're already a good mom. You just need a little help right now and that's okay. This is more common than you think, but it's not going to be like this forever.”
“What if we have more kids and this happens again?”
“We don't need to worry about that right now. Let's just focus on getting through this first.”
You nodded your head in agreement as you turned your focus to the television and you started hearing small whimpers on the baby monitor. You made a motion to get up and Jack immediately tried to stop you.
“Babe, I can…”
“I got it. You let me rest a little bit and I feel better.”
“Are you sure?”
“Promise. I'm fine. Like you said it won't be like this forever.”
A few months later, you were sitting backstage with the triplets and Jack was due to perform along with a few other artists and he made it up in his mind that he wanted all of you to come with him. Ivy and Autumn were crawling around on their playmat with their toys while Axel was in your arms sleeping as you heard the door open and he walked in.
He leaned down to kiss you while also kissing Axel's forehead as he sat on the floor and both of the girls crawled over to him.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He asked as he was making faces at Ivy who was laughing.
“We're fine babe for the millionth time.” You responded while laughing and checking the time on your phone.
“Just making sure!” He said as he held up his hands in defense.
Jack made sure to block off a room backstage specifically for you and the triplets. Urban would pop in from time to time to check on you too so that way they wouldn't be overwhelmed with all of the noise. There was a screen in the room so that you along with the babies would be able to watch Jack’s performance.
“Aren't you supposed to be getting dressed?”
“I had to check on my wife and babies first. Yall are my priority. They can wait.”
Just then Urban stuck his head in the door and was looking at the both of you.
“Neelam is going to murder you in the next two minutes if you don't hurry up.”
“Tell her I'm coming!”
“That's what she said.” You muttered before busting out laughing and Jack and Urban just shook their heads at you.
“And you call me the unserious one.”
“But you are!”
“You know this is the first time in a while that I've gotten a genuine smile out of you.” Jack said while getting up and coming to sit next to you.
“And I have you to thank for that.” You said as you adjusted Axel in your arms.
“Just doing my husband duties. We're in this for the long run, baby.”
“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You replied as Jack leaned down to kiss you, but was interrupted by Axel waking up and giving him a look.
“I… Axel fix your face. Your mom was mine first.” Jack exclaimed as you laughed at the face he was making at Jack.
Axel continued to stare him down before closing his eyes again and laying his head back down.
“You know you can't get mad. He is literally you in a baby's body. But back to what I was saying. You saved me in more ways than one so thank you smush.” You said as you leaned over to kiss him again.
“You're welcome, baby girl. If it's for you I'm going to do it without a second thought.”
Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, generationnow, sza, theshaderoom, and 1,592,006 others
y/ninsta: jackharlow said today is the first time in a while that he got a genuine smile out of me, so I had to take a selfie. Postpartum depression is real, and I thank my husband from the bottom of my heart for recognizing what I was going through and that I needed help. I love this life that I get to live with him and my babies 💕
jackharlow: always in your corner, baby. forever and always.
urbanwyatt: SERVING LOOKS 😍😍
danivalentine: jackharlow thank you for taking care of my baby girl. she is so loved by you and everyone else around her. 🥹
saweetie: love you mamas and we always got your back
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#jack harlow#jack harlow fic#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow x black reader#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow angst#jack harlow fluff#jack harlow fanfiction#jack harlow imagine
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