#this was long i hope the read more is working!! i'm gonna take a shower and then maybe...cry in bed i'm exhausted

[v6quewrlds]

HOMIESEXUAL II, BURROW & IOSIVAS.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow/andrei iosivas x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀6.8k.

summary⠀⁎⠀just as you begin to settle into a slow ease with andrei, joe's late night texts sends you spiraling. paralyzed by the memories of what could have been, you find yourself back to square one.

author's note⠀⁎⠀read part i here. already planning a third part <3 first part focused mostly on andrei, this part focuses mostly on joe. don't ask me what the timeline is or how long anyone's been together, idk man. warnings⠀⁎⠀some usage of y/n, vicious cycles part ii, reader is going through it, literally just angst, sam lowkey meddling.

You leaned against your kitchen counter. Pale marble pressed a deep line into your skin as you took slow, shallow sips of your steaming cup of coffee. You drank it black with just a spoonful of sugar, a silent protest to the bitter taste of the morning after receiving Joe's text. The sun painted the room in a warm glow, but it did little to ease the chill that had settled in your chest.

The subtle creaking of your floor gave away heavy footsteps, interrupting your thoughts. You turned in the direction of the sound to find Andrei emerging from your bedroom, a hopeful smile on his face. "Good morning," he greeted you, stretching out his arms in a yawn.

"Hey," you managed to reply, your voice a bit hoarse from the previous night. He crossed the room and wrapped you in a gentle embrace. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for answers you weren't ready to give.

"Good," you lied, your mind racing with the weight of your decision. "Really good."

You could feel his heart beating in his chest as he processed your words, and you could hear the deep inhalation as he tried to modulate his reaction. Andrei pulled back, his hands lingering on your arms as he searched for the right response. "So, we're okay?" His voice was a soft whisper, hopeful.

You nodded. "We're okay," you assured him, your voice steady despite the tumult in your thoughts.

"That's all I needed to hear." Andrei's smile grew, crinkling the corner of his eyes. "I really like you. I know we're taking it slow, but I want you to know that." A large hand came down to cup the side of your face, thumb soothing circles into your brown skin before he leaned down to kiss you. It was gentle, slow, and filled with promise.

You returned the kiss, feeling a pang of guilt. You knew you had to tell him about Joe's message, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. Not yet. Instead, you chose to bask in the warmth of his affection, if only for a little longer. "I'm all yours, Andrei," you said, your voice earnest.

As you broke apart, Andrei's eyes searched yours for reassurance. "I'm gonna head out, hit my apartment before practice," he said, reluctance in his tone. "But, I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Soon."

He leaned in once more, softly whispering a question of, "Promise?", against your lips, all deep and soft and sweet. "Promise," you laughed against his lips, the sound light and airy, the promise feeling heavier than it should have.

Once Andrei left, the apartment felt too quiet. The echo of his footsteps down the hall seemed to amplify the silence that followed. You knew you had to get to work, but your legs felt like lead. With a deep sigh, you placed your half-empty coffee mug in the sink and headed to the shower. The hot water washed away the lingering scent of Andrei, but not the weight of Joe's words in your thoughts.

You could practically hear his voice saying those sweet words.

Are you free tomorrow?

You were, in fact, free.

We should do something.

God, you craved to be near him.

Miss seeing you.

You hated that you didn't hate him. Hated that you could feel his words' warmth through your phone's cold screen.

As you stepped into the shower, the hot spray did nothing to wash away the feeling of his embrace from your mind. You knew you had to tell Andrei, but you were scared of losing him and scared of losing your self respect in the process.

The office was bustling when you arrived. By the time Jess met your eye, you had already read and reread the text message fifty times over. The weight of Joe's words hung over you like a dark cloud as you attempted to read into every word choice. You made your way to Jess's desk, where your friend was buried in paperwork, and dropped your bag with a loud thud.

"Tell me everything," Jess demanded, her eyes immediately recognizing the distress in your posture. The two of you retreated to a more secluded area of the office, where the hum of the photocopier and the occasional ring of a phone couldn't penetrate your hushed conversation.

You recounted your tumultuous evening, the text from Joe, and the spiraling that followed. Jess listened intently, her eyes focused on your expression and intermittent sighs.

When you were done, Jess took a deep breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, babe. But, you don't talk about Andrei half as much as you talk about Joe."

The truth of Jess's words stung like a slap. You had been so focused on Joe that you had neglected the good thing you had with Andrei. "I know," you mumbled, dropping your eyes to the floor. "I'm just... every time I think I can move on, it's like he senses it and fucks with my head."

"Babe, you have to start taking some responsibility for your part in this too," Jess said firmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You can't blame Joe for everything, as fucked up as he is. You have to figure out what you truly want and stick to it. Joe can't get through to you if you just… shut the door."

You nodded, knowing your friend was right. You had been playing a dangerous game of push and pull with both men, not truly committing to either. "I know," you sighed. "But it's hard to ignore him when he's been part of my life for so long. It feels incomplete."

Jess anxiously bit her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of understanding and frustration. "I'm sorry, babe. I know it's complicated, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not healthy for you."

You sighed, biting your bottom lip. "I know," you echoed. "You're so lucky you locked down Sam."

Jess rolled her eyes playfully. "You know it wasn't always roses."

"Yeah, but you guys make it look easy now," you said, trying to lighten the mood. "All lovey-dovey and happy."

"It's not easy, but it's worth it," Jess said, her voice filled with conviction. "You just have to figure out what's worth fighting for and who you're willing to fight for it with."

You nodded, following Jess as the two of you headed back into the office to settle into a full day of meetings and paperwork. Despite your friend's advice, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were drowning in a sea of indecision. Every time you thought you had made up your mind, a new wave of doubt crashed over you.

Joe had a headache. It was the kind that lingered, the kind that felt like it was trying to tell him something. He'd had it for days, ever since he pressed send on that late-night text to you. Your read receipts were still on, so he knew you had seen it, but you hadn't responded - something he was aware was entirely intentional on your part. He knew he had crossed a line, knew that he had no right to expect anything from you after everything. Yet, he couldn't help but hope you might answer in whatever way you saw fit. He wanted you to tell him off, to block him, to do anything but ignore him.

The weight room was unusually quiet for a Thursday night. The echo of weights clanking against the floor was the only sound that pierced the thick air of competition and sweat. He was in his element, his muscles flexing with each rep, the grunts of effort escaping his lips as he pushed through an impromptu workout.

His mind was racing, replaying every interaction with you since he had stepped into the league. Flashes of moments and bites of sound played in his mind like a movie reel, the sweetness of your laughter, the magnetism of your figure, mixing with the harshness of your silence. He had to do something, had to find a way to explain why he had always been so afraid of what the two of you could have been.

He heard the clinking of Sam's workout bag before he saw the defensive end enter the gym. Sam's eyes met his, not a single hint of surprise in his expression. They had known each other for too long, had seen each other at their highest and lowest points. Sam knew he would be here. "Need a spot?" Sam offered, his voice carrying over the gym's ambient noise.

Joe removed his headphones, the music's thumping bass cutting off abruptly. He nodded, welcoming the distraction. "Yeah, thanks, man," he said, gesturing to the barbell on the rack.

As Sam helped him lift the weight, Joe couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that his friend knew something was up. Sam always had a knack for reading him, and Joe's restlessness was as clear as day. "So, how's it going with... you know?" Sam asked, his voice low enough not to carry.

Joe let out a heavy breath, setting the barbell back onto the rack and swapping places with Sam. "It's complicated," he said, not meeting Sam's eyes. "She's not answering my texts."

"Maybe she's just busy," Sam said, not bothering to hide his skepticism. He knew full well the kind of hold Joe had on you. "Or maybe she's finally putting her foot down. Gained a backbone or something?"

Joe chuckled, the sound hollow. "Maybe," he allowed, though he doubted it. "I don't know what I'm doing, dude. I just keep fucking things up with her."

Sam paused his reps, eyeing Joe with a mix of frustration and pity. "You know what you're doing, Joe. Always have."

Joe rolled his shoulders, ignoring the accusation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam set the barbell back, siting up with a groan. "It means," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "that you keep playing games with her because you think you don't deserve what you really want."

Joe's eyes narrowed, but Sam continued, unphased. "You're afraid of being with her, of committing to her. You think you're not good enough for her, so you keep her at arm's length so she doesn't find out. It's annoying, really. You both deserve better."

Joe felt the sting of truth in Sam's words. He rolled his neck, the tension building. "It's not like that," he protested, though even he could hear the doubt in his voice. "I'm just... I don't know what I want."

"Well, you're going to have to figure it out," Sam said, his voice firm. "Because if you keep playing this game, you're going to lose her for good. And I can't say I'd blame her if she chose Andrei. He's sweet to her, treats her right."

Joe's jaw tightened at the mention of Andrei's name. He knew he didn't have the right to feel possessive, but the thought of losing you to his teammate, someone who could be around you all the time, was like a knife in the gut. He had always thought of Andrei as a friend, but now, the line felt blurred. "I know," he said through gritted teeth. "But it's not that simple."

"I don't know, it might be, bro," Sam said, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "Sometimes, things are exactly as simple as they seem. You love her, she loves you, but you're too scared to tell her that because you're afraid of the expectations that come with it."

Joe couldn't argue with that. He had spent so long building a wall around himself that the thought of letting someone in, really in, was terrifying. But as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew that the wall had been built for one person, and one person only.

"Look, I know it's not my place," Sam started again, his voice softer. "But she's like a little sister to me. I hate seeing her agonize over you. If you're not capable of giving her what she deserves, then maybe you should step aside."

Joe's hands curled into fists at the thought. "Fuck," he muttered, the weight of Sam's words sinking in. He knew his friend was right. He had been selfish, playing with your emotions because he was too afraid to step up to your expectations. But could he really let you go? He didn't know if he had the strength to do that.

"Just think about it," Sam murmured, turning to leave the weight room. His words hung in the air, thick and heavy as the silence settled once again. Joe knew Sam was right, but thinking wasn't the problem. It was the doing that had always been his issue.

You hummed to yourself as you put away the last of your folded laundry, setting aside a few stray pieces of clothing you recognized as belonging to Andrei and a jacket you borrowed from Jess.

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand brought you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen, caught off-guard by a memory notification from your Photos app. It was a video of you and Joe, probably taken during one of your many easygoing nights before it all became so serious.

The two of you were laughing, the camera wobbling as Joe tried to get a good angle of your face while you attempted to explain some ridiculous late-night food combination. You watched it once, twice, the familiar warmth of nostalgia washing over you.

"What the hell is that?" He laughed, blue eyes twinkling as you continued to giggle hysterically. Your words kept getting caught in your throat as you tried to explain the combination of bacon and peanut butter on toast.

You closed the odd sandwich together, holding a corner out for him to try. "It's good, I promise," you said through your laughter. Joe eyed you skeptically before setting the camera down against the toaster, the video shifting to show the two of you standing in his kitchen.

An oversized sage green long-sleeve belonging to him hung off your smaller frame, the hem of the shirt brushing against your thighs as you stepped closer to him, trying to convince him to take a bite. He was dressed in sweats and a ridiculous tie-dye t-shirt, the colors of his outfit clashing horribly against each other.

He leaned in, the smell of mint on his breath as he took the bite. His eyebrows furrowed as he chewed, and you couldn't help but laugh harder, the sound echoing through the phone. The memory washed over you, a warm wave of nostalgia that you hadn't felt in a long time. But it was the way he looked at you after he swallowed, with a hint of wonder in his eyes, that made your heart clench as you watched.

"Good?" you asked, watching him expectantly.

Joe grumbled with a reluctant smile, wiping the crumbs from the bread on his lip. He leaned in for another bite, the two of you sharing a laugh as you held the sandwich away from him like a prize. His hands grabbed at your waist, playfully trying to take a bite without your permission before resorting to kissing you instead.

"Delicious," he murmured as he pulled away from your lips, his wandering hands making it clear he wasn't just talking about the sandwich. You only hummed in response, tearing the remainder of the sandwich in half as he reached to shut off the camera.

The video ended there, but the memory didn't. It played on in your mind, the way his hands felt, the way his mouth moved against yours, and you realized you had been holding your breath. You set the phone aside, your heart racing as you sat on the edge of your bed, the coolness of the comforter a stark contrast to the heat that seemed to envelop you.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to feel everything you had been pushing down for weeks. The longing, the regret, the anger. It all gripped at your heart, pulling you back to a time when you didn't have to think about the consequences of your actions. Back when you lived, breathed, and loved Joe without apprehension. But you knew you couldn't live in the past. With a deep breath, you stood up, tucking the stray strands of hair behind your ear and walking into the bathroom to splash your face with water.

The coolness helped to center you, but the reflection staring back was one of uncertainty. You had promised yourself you would take things slow with Andrei, that you would give him a chance. But as much as you tried to convince yourself that you had moved on, Joe remained a constant in your thoughts, a shadow haunting your happiness.

You beelined for your phone, your brain screaming at you to get up and delete the video, to erase every trace of Joe from your mind. But your thumb hovered over the screen, unable to follow through. Instead, you decided to just block his number, hoping - in vain - that would be the end of it. The video remained, but at least you wouldn't be so tempted to respond to any more of his messages.

Andrei loved the build-up to game days. The adrenaline was palpable, the tension in the air was electric, and the camaraderie among the team was something he cherished. Everyone was hyped up, settling into their seats on the team plane, ready to take on the Cowboys tomorrow. The conversation around him was a mix of trash talk and strategy, bonds being strengthened with every laugh and shared glance.

You had sent him off to Dallas with a good luck message, a photo of yourself in a #80 jersey attached to the sweet message.

The seatbelt sign flickered off, and the team started to move around the cabin, the noise level rising as the players talked and stretched their legs. Andrei felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Sam sitting in the empty aisle seat next to him. "Hey, Drei," Sam said, reaching a hand out to dap him up. "Seat taken?"

Andrei grasped his hand with a shake of his head. "Nah, man, have a seat."

Sam nodded and took the empty seat. "Look, I know I don't have the right to say anything, but I had to talk to you about something. Get it off my conscience." His expression grew serious as he leaned in closer to Andrei. "How are things with Y/N?"

Andrei's smile faltered a bit. "Good," he said, unsure of where this conversation was heading. "We're taking things slow, but it's all good."

Sam leaned in, his expression earnest. "Look, Joe's my boy, and I don't want to get in the middle of your business, but I care about her too. Just be careful, Drei. Let things happen naturally, you know?"

Andrei nodded, not quite sure what Sam was trying to tell him but appreciative of his concern. "Yeah, man, we are. Things are good. Why?"

Sam took a deep breath, his gaze darting around the cabin before settling back on Andrei. "It's just, Joe's been... I don't know. Different. He talked to me about her the other day, and it was like he realized for the first time that she's actually with someone else. And they're stubborn, you know?" He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I just don't want you to get hurt, man. He's got a history with her, and I know it's not fair, but sometimes, history has a way of repeating itself. I'm sure she's trying her best to let you in, but she could really break your heart, dude."

Andrei nodded, his thoughts racing. He had felt the same tension from Joe lately, the way he had been looking at him, the awkward pauses in conversation despite the front he was putting up of being a good sport. Andrei knew he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to lose you, but he also didn't want to be the rebound or the guy who messed around with his friend's girl.

Andrei sighed, eyes darting over to Joe who was playing a round of chess with BJ. "Be honest with me, dude. If she had to, ultimatum or whatever, who do you think she'd choose?"

Sam's gaze followed Andrei's. "If it's down to it, she'll always choose Joe," he admitted, his voice low. "It's just the way it is. I'm not saying it's right or fair to you, but that's the reality. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she's still holding on to what could have been with him. And Joe... he's realizing he might actually lose her for good and it's not sitting well with him."

Andrei nodded slowly, taking in Sam's words. He knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he appreciated the honesty. "I gotta ask you something, 'cause it's been bothering me," he began. "Why didn't anyone say anything when I first started seeing her? A bunch of guys on the team knew about Joe and her, but no one warned me. It's kinda fucked up, you know?"

Sam's expression tightened, and he leaned back in his seat. "It's... complicated, Drei," he said, his voice a mix of regret and loyalty. "We all thought it was a good idea at first, keep our mouths shut, let things play out. We didn't want to start any drama, especially with you finding your rhythm in the offensive. Maybe we should've said something, I guess. I just don't know if it would've made a difference."

Andrei nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew Sam was right; you and Joe had a history that ran deep. It wasn't fair to any of you, but here you were. "Thanks for being straight with me, Sam," he said, his voice tight. "I'll think about it."

The rest of the flight passed in a blur, the conversation with Sam playing on repeat in Andrei's mind. He knew he had to talk to you about it, but the right words escaped him. How could he express his fears without pushing you away or making you feel guilty?

The team arrived in Dallas, and the day of the game approached fast. The energy in the hotel was intense, players going through their pregame rituals, eyes glued to game tape, and coaches barking out last-minute instructions. Andrei found refuge in the routine of it all, pushing his conversation with Sam to the back of his mind as he focused on the task at hand.

The offensive played an explosive game, coming out with a win against the Cowboys. On the flight back to Cincinnati, Andrei found himself isolated from the rest of his exhausted, but jubilated teammates. By the time they touched down, Andrei was texting you with an excuse, telling you he'd see you tomorrow, that his mind was exhausted and he just needed to crash at his own place tonight.

On the other side of the phone, you were frowning as you read the text out loud to Jess. The two of you were in a familiar position on game nights when Sam was away, sauced wings forgotten on the coffee table as you dissected every text message and emoji. "What do you think that means?" you asked, biting your lip.

Jess took a swig of her beer, shaking her head. "Maybe he's finally realized you'll never get off Joe's dick." Her tone was blunt, unable to hide her laugh when you sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, I know it's harsh, but you've got to cut that shit out. You either go for Joe or you stick with Andrei. You can't keep playing this game, especially if Joe's gonna keep popping up like a fucking jack-in-the-box every time you get cozy with another guy." Jess was tipsy, clearly. Her words always held a little more bite when she had alcohol flowing through her system.

You sighed, setting your phone down. "The thing is, I finally brought myself to block Joe. But now Andrei's acting weird, and I don't know if it's because of Joe or because he's just tired from the trip."

Jess leaned in, her voice softer. "He said he was too tired to be present with you. Maybe just believe him?"

You nodded, feeling a little foolish. "Why can't my relationships ever be normal?" you said with a groan, flopping back on the couch, and taking a sip of your beer.

Jess reached over to grab your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "I love you, so much, babe. But you gotta start making your own decisions, stop letting these men dictate your happiness," she said, her gaze full of sisterly love. "You're a badass, and it's about time you start acting like it."

The front door rustled as Sam turned the key, letting himself in. Jess stood up to greet him, pressing a few sloppy kisses to his lips, congratulating him on the win as she began to babble in his arms.

"It was a beer kinda night, huh?" Sam asked, holding Jess' waist in one arm as they shuffled over to the couch where you sat nursing the rest of your lukewarm beer.

"Your beer kinda sucks, Hubbard," you muttered, scowling when he reached over to pluck the beer from your hand in response.

Sam chuckled, placing it aside. "You know I don't stock that shit," he said, pecking Jess' cheek as he sank into the couch next to Jess. "What's with the face?"

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. "Boys," you muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he stood to head off to the kitchen. "I shouldn't have asked. Not surprised."

He returned with a protein bar in hand, taking his seat and shifting an affectionate Jess into his lap with a smile and a kiss to her forehead. "I spoke to Andrei yesterday. I don't know what kind of magic hold you have over these guys, but it has to be studied." Sam's words cut through the air, his gaze steady on you.

You paused, "You talked to Andrei?"

Sam nodded. "I had to. He had some questions and I felt kinda shitty that no one warned him about you and Joe." He took a bite of his protein bar, eyeing you as he chewed.

"Sam," Jess gasped, a hint of a scold in her tone. "Andrei just sent her a weird, cryptic text."

Sam's gaze softened, looking at you with concern. "What's up with that?"

"I don't know what's going on. Maybe it's just the stress of the season or the travel, but it feels like something's off." You picked at your fingernails, your gaze on the TV that was playing the game's highlights.

Sam looked at you with a furrowed brow. "That's weird. He seemed fine when we left Dallas."

Jess leaned forward, placing her hand on Sam's knee. "Well, maybe he's just tired. You all are."

Sam nodded, swiping a hand over his face. "Yeah, could be. But I'll keep an eye on him."

Whatever had come over Andrei that night didn't seem to stick around for long. By Monday night, he was asking you to come over after work. You agreed, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. When you arrived, Andrei greeted you with a warm smile, his arms open wide. You fell into your usual routine, ordering takeout before Andrei's hand slipped under your shirt, then shifted you into his lap, teasing you about your inability to pay attention to the movie you picked out.

"Just focus, baby," Andrei murmured in your ear, his voice filled with amusement as you squirmed against his lap.

You licked your lips, releasing a strangled moan as your hand moved down to cover Andrei's dipping into your leggings. You could feel the heat rising in your face, the tension in the room thickening with every touch. You bit back a surprised moan when he flipped you onto your back, the couch cushions molding to the curve of your spine as he hovered over you, a fiery determination in his eyes.

Andrei's kisses grew more urgent, his hands exploring your body with a gentle insistence that made your toes curl. You could feel yourself getting lost in him again, the warmth of his touch pushing your worries to the furthest corners of your mind.

His familiar heartbeat soothed your own as you pressed your cheek to his chest. "I missed you yesterday," you spoke up with bated breath.

"I missed you too," Andrei responded, stroking your cheek gently.

The two of you lay there, basking in the afterglow, your breaths gradually evening out. The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

You allowed yourself to be swept up in the final touches of wedding planning with Jess as the season came to a close. Each step was a welcome distraction from the question marks of your love life. The bachelorette party came and went, followed by the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.

The dinner was supposed to be a swirl of laughter and goodwill, but when you and Joe found yourselves staring at the only two empty seats, side by side, the air grew thick with uneasy hesitation. You felt the heat from his leg when he reluctantly sat to your right, his broad frame taking up more than his share of the formerly empty space.

His eyes would flicker over to yours as you spoke, a gentle smile tugging at his lips, but he remained mostly silent. It was strange, the way he could make you feel so at ease and so frazzled all at once. As the evening progressed, Joe remained polite and friendly, but there was a distance between you that was palpable.

And it killed you.

The wedding day was a blur of formalwear and champagne toasts. As maid of honor, you were busy ensuring everything went off without a hitch. The ceremony was beautiful, and as Jess and Sam shared their first dance, you couldn't help but shed a few tears.

By the time the groomsmen began to loosen their ties, the reception was in full swing. The open bar was doing its job, and the dance floor was crowded with swaying bodies, the air thick with the scent of cologne and alcohol. Sam was in the middle of a dance circle, Jess clinging to his arm as she threw her head back in an elated laugh.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to find Joe standing there, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey," he greeted. His cheeks were flushed, a hint of whiskey on his breath. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just taking a break. My feet are killing me."

Joe chuckled, his eyes sweeping over you. "You made a great speech by the way. I thought it was really sweet."

Your heart skipped a beat. You had tried to ignore the way Joe looked at you that night, the way his eyes held yours just a second longer than anyone else's, the way he made you feel like you were the only other person in the room.

You forced a smile. "Thanks, yours too."

"I know this is probably the worst time to do this, but can we talk?" Joe's voice was low, barely audible over the thumping music.

Your pulse quickened. You had hoped to avoid this conversation, at least until Jess and Sam were out of sight. But here he was, looking at you with those pretty blue eyes that seemed to see straight through you, and you folded. "Sure," you said, your voice a whisper.

You stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air a relieving departure from the stuffy reception hall. The music was a distant hum, muffled by the glass walls. You leaned against the railing, your heart racing as Joe stepped closer, mirroring your stance.

"Look, I know we've had our issues," he began, his voice earnest. "But I've never stopped caring about you. So, I figured I should actually apologize for being such a dick."

Your throat tightened. "You don't have to, Joe." Your eyes were downcast, hoping to avoid showing him just how uncertain you were.

Joe's expression grew serious. "No, I do. I messed up. And I know you're with Andrei now, and I respect that. I just needed to tell you I'm sorry for how I handled things." He paused, searching for the right words. "It's my fault we're not together. I was too scared to be the man you deserve."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "What are you saying, Joe?"

Joe took a deep breath, looking out at the twinkling city lights. "I'm saying that I love you. And I don't want to see you settle for less than what you deserve." He turned to face you, his gaze intense, hoping you'd met him just a quarter of the way. "I know Andrei's a good guy, and he makes you happy in ways that I never did. So, hold on to him. Give him a chance. You deserve it."

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of doubt or hidden intent. 

Then you scoffed, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Joe's brows shot up.

Your eyes searched his, the weight of his words heavy on your chest. "You're telling me you love me now? After all the shit you've put me through?"

Joe took a step closer, reaching out to touch your arm gently. "I know, and I'm not asking for anything in return. I just want you to be happy, even if that means it's with someone else."

"You're a fucking coward, Joe," you spat, pushing his hand away. "You can't just say 'I love you' now and expect me to be okay with that. I am trying to move on and you pull this shit with me? Fuck you."

Joe's eyes widened in surprise at your outburst. "Y/N, I'm just trying to be honest with you. I didn't mean to mess up your night."

"Well, you did!" you exclaimed, your voice echoing in the otherwise quiet balcony. "I can't believe you'd do this here, of all places."

Joe's face fell. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I didn't want to ruin Jess and Sam's day, but I had to tell you how I feel in person. I didn't know when I'd see you again."

Your hands flew to your head, fighting back tears of frustration. "This isn't fair," you murmured, your voice cracking. "You can't just do this to me, Joe. Not now."

Joe reached for you again, but you stepped back, holding up a hand to stop him. "No, don't. I can't trust myself around you."

"Y/N," he pleaded, but you were already turning away, facing the skyline again as you gathered your words without the threat of his baby blues breaching your thought process.

"I'm so angry with myself," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I thought I was getting over you, Joe. I really did. But here I am, still feeling like this."

Joe stepped closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder but not quite touching you. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I wish I could fix everything."

You ignored him, your mind racing as the emotions of the past few months crashed over you like an all-consuming wave. "I'm so in love with you, it makes me angry. Why can't you just be what I need?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Joe said softly, his own voice cracking. "I wish I could be that for you."

The music from inside the reception grew louder as someone opened the balcony door. The cold air doing little to settle the heat building between you two. You could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as you exhaled slowly.

"If you know, why couldn't you just do it? Why are you always out of reach?" you demanded, your eyes swimming with tears. "I fucking love you, Joe. And it's killing me that I can't have you."

Joe's gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw tightening. "I don't know," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "If I had a chance, I'd fix it. But, you deserve to be happy with Andrei. He's good for you."

"But what if I can't be happy with Andrei?" The question slipped from your lips before you could catch it. You saw the pain in Joe's eyes, and it mirrored your own. "What if all I want is you?"

Joe took a step back, his face a mask of torment. "Don't say that. Please don't say that."

"It's so fucked up," you laughed incredulously. "Andrei's right in front of me, begging to be loved and all I can think about is missing you, asshole."

Joe's gaze met yours, and you saw the true sadness in his eyes. "It's not your fault," he said. "We had our moments. We had a good thing going."

Your breath hitched. "Yeah, we did."

For a moment, the world outside of you stopped spinning. The laughter, the music, the distant chatter of your friends – it all faded away. You stared at each other, the truth of your feelings hanging in the air like mist.

"I miss you," Joe admitted, genuine pain reflecting in his eyes.

Your chest ached. "I miss you too. So much it hurts."

He stepped closer, his hand brushing your cheek. You felt his warmth seep into your skin in that familiar way that always managed to leave you defenseless. "Then why are we doing this to ourselves?"

Your eyes searched his, a mix of anger, love, and despair swirling in their depths. "Because you won't let me go, Joey," you murmured. "Because every time I start to move on, you pull me back in. You can't do that anymore, sweetheart. It's not fair."

Joe leaned in closer, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your bottom lashes. "I know," he whispered, his breath warm on your skin. "I'm sorry."

Your chest tightened as you leaned into his touch, craving the comfort he seemed to still bring you. "Why can't we just be together?" you asked, the desperation in your voice clear.

"I don't know, baby," Joe said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But we can't keep doing this to each other."

You felt the tears falling down your cheeks as you nodded. "But it's so hard."

Joe leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "I know it is, baby. I know. But it's Jess and Sam's night, we can't do this right now. Gotta get back inside, focus on them."

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. "I know," you whispered.

Joe's hand lingered on your cheek before he pulled away. You felt the chill of the breeze replace his warmth. He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours one last time before he turned and walked back towards the party. You watched him go, your heart feeling heavier than it had in a long time.

Hot tears clouded your vision as Joe disappeared back into the reception, leaving you alone on the balcony. The cold night air did little to cool the fire of emotions burning within you. You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to calm down. With a heavy heart, you turned and went back inside, finding a bathroom to collect yourself. You wiped your eyes, touched up your makeup, and took a deep breath before returning to the ballroom.

As you stepped back into the bustling room, the music and laughter hit you like a wall. You spotted Joe across the dance floor, stopped by some Ohio State teammates before he could make it to the bathroom, and felt a pang of guilt. His nose was noticeably red, eyes puffy from crying, even from your spot several feet away from him. You knew that look all too well. You had seen it before, reflected back at you in the mirror.

You found Jess and Sam, who were dancing together, their happiness so palpable it almost made your heart ache. You couldn't ruin this for them. You couldn't let Joe ruin this night for you. Not again. You approached them, a laugh erupting from your chest as Sam sloppily spun Jess around before dipping her for a kiss that received cheers from your friends.

"You two look amazing," you yelled over the music, your voice tight but contained.

"I'm so glad you're here, babe," Jess exclaimed, clearly more inebriated than you previously thought. Sam grinned at you, his eyes glinting with the same love and happiness that filled Jess's voice.

You forced a smile, your thoughts still swirling around Joe's confession. "Me too," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice from betraying your emotions.

When you finally stumbled into your hotel room a few hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, fully dressed, the weight of the evening's events pressing down on you. The room was spinning, not just from the alcohol but from the tumult of emotions you had kept bottled up all night. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the wedding reception that still rang in your ears.

Your phone remained still on the bedside table, taunting you with the silence from both Andrei and Joe. You contemplated for a moment, biting your lip nervously before exhaling a "Fuck it," and reaching out for it. Your thumbs worked quickly, swiping through your phone to find Joe's contact, unblocking him before you could change your mind. Then you dumped it back onto the table, exhaling softly as you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep.

[princessmaeee]

R A I N Y D A Y

Request : Hii i have a thanos or T.O.P request for you.. A surprise thunderstorm keeps reader and him both indoors. Wrapped in cozy blankets, they binge-watch his favorite old movies, teasing each other over preferences, sharing popcorn, and eventually dozing off in each other’s arms. Just some fluff or you can add some spice if you want

So it's not 100% exactly what I was asked for but close Enough. I'm not use to request yet ahah, but i'm pretty happy with this cute One-shot. I goes for T.O.P more Than Thanos for a change. It was my first time Writhing about him so I hope it's gonna be fine.

No Smut Sadly, I didn't had enough concentration, by cats didn't stop causing trouble around and I really wanted to finish this Tonight. Anyway, I hope it still gonna be cute and You will all like it.

Enjoy !

Fun fact : The arguing part is 100% my life with my best friend. He love old movie cause they are way better than what we have today, but i'm really picky about visual quality so I hate when He want me to watch another classic I didn't watch yet. So we alway fight about it but the friendly way

You were so excited to finally have a date with Seung-Hyun, you waited for this day all week long like a teenager. As much as you love your boyfriend, it’s kinda complicated for both of us to plan dates since he’s often really busy with his work. Between shows, practice, interviews, drama or movies, you barely have time to see each other. So when the morning finally came, you got up so fast out of your bed and opened the curtains of your window before the disappointment punched you like a full speed car.It was a rainy mess outside. You planned to go on a walk out of the city and now, with this terrible weather, you had no ideas of what you could do. With a heavy sigh, you take your phone and text Seung-Hyun.

‘’ It’s rainy outside today, what should we plan now ? :(  ‘’

You go on the weather Application to look if this rain will be there all or if it was just for this morning. Unfortunately, it will rain the next three days and high probabilities for a Thunderstorm by the end of the day.  Another Sigh escaped your lips as you put away your phone before getting up to take a towel before going into the bathroom to take a hot shower. When you came back, Seung-Hyun had answered you

‘’ I can come over and we can watch a movie. I already took a day off so Rainy or not I’m all yours for today ;) ‘’

You felt your cheeks blushed as you smiled brightly, happy to read his message. You answered his message.

‘’ Sounds like a good plan ! ‘’

He was fast to reply.

‘’ Good, I will be at your place in one hour ‘’

You quickly look around you, panicked. Your room was a Mess and you didn’t have time to clean the rest of the apartment. You were busy at work and barely had energy for chores. You gave him a positive answer with a smiley and put on some cozy clothes. Baggy jeans and one of Seung-Hyun Hoodie who was clearly too big for you, but who cares ? It’s comfortable and smells just as good as him. Once this is done, you quickly put your dirty clothes in the washing machine, clean up the dirty dishes, mop the floor really quickly and go put the trash outside. An hour later, it was almost perfect. You still had some paper on your dining table but it was your paperwork so you let it there, for  now. It will be chaos if you lose it cause you put them at a random place just to make your apartment look good. When someone knocks at the door, you smile as your heart starts beating faster in your chest and you open up. Your smile got bigger when you saw your boyfriend. You look around outside of your appartement en let him in.  You know he’s very careful when he comes to your place, but you always fear that some paparazzi or crazy fans could follow him and you don’t want Seung-Hyun to have a scandal since your relationship is still secret, you prefer double checking just in case. The moment your door was closed, you felt your boyfriend's hands on your hips, turning you around and kissing you. It was a gentle kiss, but you could feel that he restrained himself. 

«-I missed you, he said against your Lips, making you smile.-I missed you too »

You answered his kiss by passing your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, but he broke the kiss and pulled himself back.

«-I bring Some good old movies and some popcorn, he said as he removed his coat.»

You smile and give a look at his choices as he goes to your kitchen to put the Popcorn in the microwave. Taking your place on your couch you weren't able to know what movie you wanted to watch.

«-Why did you choose old movies ? -Cause they’re the best movies, what else ? -I could have been down for a Disney One, you answered. -Please don’t tell me you don’t want to watch old movies cause of the quality -Well…»

You gave him a look as he raised a brow, knowing he touched the problem. You always have this kind of conversation when it comes to movies. 

«-Have you seen those ones ?-No…So I guess you should choose the one we're gonna watch because any of them look good…»

Your boyfriend stayed silent for a moment. You noticed he wanted to reply something but nothing came out. He was just too shaken to reply to something. When the Popcorn was ready, He put it in a bowl and joined you on the couch.

«-You’re lucky I love You, he finally said, cause your movie taste are a disgrace »

You continue arguing and teasingly fight about the movies until Seung-Hyun chose one and put it into the console before coming back next to you. He gave you a simple summary about the story before it started. At least he chose a musical, close enough to a Disney one.  At the end, this movie was pretty good and the next one he put one was even better, as the third one.  You were sitting between his legs, your back against his chest on your big L couch, eating the second bowl of popcorn when the TV suddenly shutted down. It caught you by surprise, but not as much as the big thunder sound you heard from outside, letting a scream out of you. You weren't scared but it was so sudden. Seung-Hyun opened his phone screen.

«-The weather announced it. Thunderstorm and possible power cut. -Life gave me a chance to escape from your old taste in movies, you teasingly said. -And do you want to escape from me ? »

You felt a shiver pass your spine when his hands went under your sweater to find a place on your waist as his lips kiss your neck. 

«-Of course not, you managed to answer.»

You felt him smile as he continued to kiss your sensitive skin, sucking and biting it here and there to let you hickeys. You grunt and turn around to face him before slamming your lips against his. Seung-Hyun’s hands slide on your back to pull you closer to his chest. 

«-Maybe we should go to my room, you said between two kisses-The couch will be prefect »

Skilfully, he lay you on the couch without even separating your lips. His hands, back on your waist, slid down your hips as he pressed his own against you making you blush as you could feel his hard one on your inner thighs. You gasp at the feeling and brake the kiss.

«-Yeah, Right, we never did it there yet anyway, you answered with a smirk before going back to his lips.»

[cuntyhunty22]

Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you.

Paring: joel x reader

Description: Joel is a regular at your bar, you rely on him for comfort and advice, feelings are there but the line was never crossed (until one night) he saves you from you toxic abusive boyfriend

Outbreak isn't a thing.

Tags: smut. Dirty talk. Daddy kink. Daddy issues. Sexual tension. Domestic violence. Mature language. Cream pie. Gun mentioned.

This is my first story in a long time. It's gonna be broken up into parts because it's longer than I anticipated. Bare with me 🫶🏼

It was a hot Monday afternoon at Bucks Bar and Grill. It's just a little hole-in-the-wall bar in this small southern town. Everyone who comes here knows each other. You have worked here since you were 18; you are 29 now, so it's kinda like family. They all have watched you grow up, been there for you through all your trials and tribulations... your issues with your absent father, your alcoholic mother, and now your very toxic narcissist of a boyfriend.

It's about 4:30 when people start coming in as the day whines down, mainly people who've been up at it all day come in around this time..and you look around in hopes one of your favorites shows up… Joel Miller.

He's a great guy and someone you have always looked for advice from. I guess he was the closest to a father figure in your life. From just coming to talk to at the bar or inviting you to cookouts at Tommy and Maria's. Which you have always been too chicken to show up to because your boyfriend would go fuckin mental if you did. And just like clockwork, he walks through the door. Tight teeshirt, worn-in blue jeans, and some work boots. His salt-and-pepper hair more curly than usual. You aren't gonna dismiss the fact that he's a very handsome man; you've always thought that. But I suppose it's been something you've never really thought in your brain, with him being over 20 years older than you and the fact you’re still in this shitty relationship you can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try, how many times he's cheated, how many times he's put his hands on you. You stay. It's probably the abandonment issues, to be honest.

Hey, darlin’, how are you doing today? Joel says to you as he sits in his usual corner spot on the bar. You just look at him, and it's like he can read your face. "I'm okay, just getting through the day." You crack a smile trying to defuse the conversation. You knew that would eventually start because today you didn't wanna think about your issues. You just wanted to work, make money, and talk to your customers.

"Want your typical order?" Yeah darlin you already knew. You laugh "well Mr miller I seem to know what you like" you seen him smirk and his eyes get dark. Shit you thought.. did I just flirt with him. (Yes you did.) you set his whiskey down, along with a beer. As you do that he notices a light bruise on your cheek bone you attempted to cover with makeup. Darlin.. I don't mean to be rude but what the fuck is on your face.. he reaches up to gently brush your face ..did he- you cut him off. "It's nothing I'm just clumsy and I smacked my face off the sink getting out of the shower." Joel scoffs because he knew it was a lie clear as day. I've told you, you need to leave. You need to take care of yourself because if something happens to you.. he trails off his sentence like he just let more off than he's just a regular at your bar. " Joel I'm fine" you replied. "I have to go out to the shed and change a keg.. I'll be back if you need me."

You go back behind the bar to grab a new beer keg because one blew just before the rush came in and you finally have a moment to fix it. As you're walking outside you feel someone follow you.. here it is your shitty boyfriend paid you a visit. Hey I need $50 he says. " I gave you $100 this morning.. I don't have-" bitch I know you fucking do he yells.. you can tell he's been drinking more than he should have. As he raises his voice at you Joel appears just a few feet down eyeing the situation.

"I said I don't have it.. not until tomorrow.. why do you think I'm working open to close today." I don't know! Boyfriend screams. Probably because you get off on the attention these old men give you because you'd rather be here than be at home with me.. YOUR BOYFRIEND. "Well someone has to pay the bills instead of blowing money on drugs alcohol and who knows what the hell else." DONT YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT YOU FUCKING WHORE. You are nothing. You work in a bar. In these tiny ass shorts taking money from people that only wanna fuck you.. your gonna be nothing just like your parents.. he grabs your arm hard already leaving hand prints.. you notice Joel has moved just a bit closer with a lit cigarette in hand.

" here take my card there is some money on it, just leave me the fuck alone and don't come back here tonight." You are fighting back tears because this just answered what Joel was asking not even 20 minutes ago. Your boyfriend take the card lets you go and starts walking away. Joel still watching, as boyfriend passes by him. Whores I tell ya, boyfriend tries to joke with Joel.. and Joel looks at him with an expression you've never seen on him.. you've heard he has a dark side but you've never witnessed it until now.. if looks could kill your boyfriend would be dead on the gravel.

You felt so embarrassed.. you knew people knew the situation but you've done pretty good at no one witnessing the shit you deal with. As soon as your boyfriend was out of eyesight you felt this heavy embrace around you as you stand there sobbing. Hey hey hey darlin it's fine.. I'm here we are gonna fix this.. your head is buried into his chest. His warm body on yours, the smell of cologne, whiskey, and cigarettes has taken over your mind.. all these emotions flooding you.. your shitty boyfriend.. how much you hate him.. and oddly enough arousal from being touched gently by a man.. which hasn't happened in god knows how long..

his hands linger on your shoulder as you look up at Joel he's already staring at you. "I need to go back inside..." no he responds take a minute.. you pull away from him and all of a sudden you feel even more empty then you did before.. you came to the realization that you are touch starved and that just ignited a fire in you.

"I have to Joel.. I have to make money because he's going to spend it all, I know he is" you start to tremble again and Joel grabs your face, listen to me... as of right now nothing like this is ever going to happen to you ever again ya hear me...im going to take care of you... "WHY JOEL" you scream at him. "Why because I'm so fucking damaged , because you see a girl with issues and you automatically wanna save- Joel cuts you off by his lips crashing into yours, at first your hesitant and you try to fight it but you couldn't deny that this just what you needed, you needed to feel something besides hate and dread.

You give into the kiss and it gets deeper hungrier, his hands still holding both sides of your face just pulling him closer and close as the kiss gets more passionate you let out a soft moan and that made Joel go crazy. He picks you you up, your lips never leaving one another as you wrap your legs around him and he backs you up against the building, the kisses still building as if that's even possible, Joel's lips eventually leave yours to trace kisses down your neck gently biting, making that soft moan not so soft. Shhh darlin, does this feel good.? "Yes.. uh fuck. Joel put me down." He looks at you confused.

I'm sorry I shouldn't have- "no you should have..

I just hate that it took this situation for it to.. that I'm just not in the best situation right now for this to happen.. that people will have opinions on the age difference "

Then leave him. And fuck em

•

You go back in to finish your shift.. and Joel doesn't leave.. he watched you all night but this time instead of glances of making sure you were okay.. it was glances of pure lust.. pure want.

It's about 2 am now, your kicking everyone out And closing things down. And it hits you that you now have to go home... and you're really unsure if you should.. the bar finally cleared out.. except your kitchen closer.. and one man.. Joel was still here.

"I should get going." You're going home.? He asks concern all over his face. "Joel I have too.. if I don't it's gonna be worse if I do..." don't.. darlin please don't.. we will deal with him.. "Joel there is no we.. sure we shared a moment.. but I'm in a relationship.. and this.. this shouldn't happen I'm the same age as your daughter practically, you know how that will look on me.. on you.. what he will do.."

it kills you saying this because honestly it's the last thing you want to do is hurt a man who has been nothing but kind and caring.. and hell maybe there is something there.. that's the thing you know there is and that scares the hell out of you.

"So yes I am going home." At least let me drive you he says.. "I can't.." give me your phone he demands.. "what why." My number, my address it's there, and take this.. he hands you a wad of money.. you don't even want to know how much is there.. "absolutely fucking not.. Joel.. I can't take your money." You can and you will..he replies.. text me when you get home and I swear if anything goes down if he so much even tries to touch you. You call me. I'm being serious now I ain't playin I mean it you call. "Okay."

Promise me darlin... "I promise."

•

When you make it home it's about 3:15 am.. and your boyfriend isn't home... or so you thought.

"Hey I'm home.. you here.?" You still have your bookbag on.. and you hid the money Joel gave you. "Hello.?" You call out again..

*thud* *thud * followed by moaning..

you scof "you've got to be fucking jokin." You walk upstairs to find your boyfriend fucking another girl. "HEY WHAT THE FUCK" the girl screams. "In our bed!!??? I mean I knew your were shitty but this shitty.!?" He tosses the girl out of the bed and charges toward you.. you fuckin bitch , do you know you ruin my life.. that I have to cheat on you to even get laid.. when's the last time you let me touch you huh.?

He's screaming right in your face backing you up against the railing of the stairs. You shove him.. which you knew was a bad idea because that shove was followed by a punch to the face and a shove that sent you falling down the stairs.. good fuck you you cunt I hope you get brain damage.. oh by the way she sucks better dick than you.. and skinner.

You lay there for a second.. thankfully the fall wasn't as bad as it could have been. You took a quick second to regain your head because you knew he'd be coming down those stairs.. and as soon as you got to your feet here he came..

I need that money.. he screamed.. what did you make tonight being that little whore you are.. huh..? He's standing in front of you now.. give me your book bag. He demands. "No." If you don't give it to me now you bitch I swear to god.. "you swear what huh..?? That you'll hit me.. that you will rape me.. again..?? What else could you do.?"

I'll fucking kill you. He smirks. At the moment you reach for the pocket knife you put in your boot. He chuckled... oh am I supposed to be scared..?? "Don't fucking touch me.. I'm done here okay.. done.. I'm leaving." Fine go.. but give me the money you said you would.. "I gave you $150 in cash.. and there was at least $400 on my card.. what more do you need.!? I'm not giving you anything else ever again..!"

At this moment he's backing you up against the wall his hands heading toward your throat.. and before he could reach them you slice his arm.. YOU CUNT..!! And you took off running to your car.

•

•

You put your car and drive and sped out.. blacked out from trauma and adrenaline not knowing exactly where you were going until you arrived..

The house is what you would think for a well established contractor. Gorgeous but still very homey nothing over the top. You know it's so late and he's probably fast asleep. You're still spiraling as you bang on the door as hard as you can.. because you were unsure if he decided to follow you or if there was a tracker on your car..

"JOEL.! JOEL.! Please answer.. fuckk" and the door swings open and pulls you inside like lightning. Once you're in, he's holding you as you sob. Sob harder than you probably ever have in your whole life.. baby.. hey.. breathe for me okay.. he looks at you.. you need to breathe. " he- you choke- unable to catch your breath about to have a full blown anxiety attack. The knife still in your pocket but it's now stained your shorts with blood..

Joel looks down and then looks back up at you.. is that your blood..? His jaw clenches and his eyes black as the night. " his blood" you managed to say.. he relaxes a bit.. did he follow you..? "I don't think so.. I don't know.. there might be a tracker on my car but I'm unsure.." okay.. I'll go look. Give you a minute to calm down. Let me grab you something to change into... do you want a beer.? "Okay.. and yes.. but Joel..?" Yes darlin.? "Please don't leave me alone for long. I won't.. and thank you for keeping your promise. That made you crack a slight smile. He brings you out a big flannel to put on and a pair of sweats..

you changed collecting yourself in the bathroom. You ended up just wearing the flannel and underwear because it was over sized on you. You walk out into the living room Joel sitting on the couch two beers waiting. "I know you gave me pants but I hate pants and I just want to be comfortable so if it's inappropriate I'll put them on." He chuckles. Babygirl you are worried about not wearing pants.. of all things... you laugh "yeah that's kinda stupid to be the thing I'm worried about isn't it." Are we calmed down..comfortable.. anything else I can get you.? " I'm alright."

Okay.. walk me through what happened.. you explained everything to him.. tonight.. the past 2 years.. all of it. You can stay in the guest room until you figure things out.. I'm not letting anyone hurt you ever again okay... you are safe. "But what about your daughter.. will she be okay with me here, I don't wanna overstep..I'll drive to my parents.. it's better there than being with him."

No.

You are staying here. "Joel I just left someplace that dictated what I did please don't tell me what the hell I should do and where I should stay." He looked hurt. I didn't mean it that way darlin I'm sorry. I just know if you are here you are safe. Sarah will be fine. She comes and goes because she's at college. Not only that maybe you could be friends. You laugh. "Yeah okay be friends with the man's daughter who saved me.. and oh I had a hot make out session with him in the same night that I sliced my boyfriends arm - ex Boyfriend Joel pipes in.. "sounds like a great plan" Joel chuckels. Okay I didn't say it was perfect or ideal or hell not odd but you would be safe and frankly that's all I give a damn about.

•

It's about dawn now and you haven't slept at all.. darlin do you wanna try to sleep Joel asks. "Honestly I don't think I can.." come here.. Joel stretches out on the couch patting up to his chest.. you crawl up to him laying your head right down as he wraps his arms around you. Covering you with the safest you've felt. Do you think you could sleep now.? "No.. but I like this.." you let out a deep breath finally fully relaxing besides the butterflies you feel from being this close to Joel. As you exhale warm lips touch your forehead in a sweet kiss. Hmm..I'm sorry- Joel huffs..

" don't be.. " you lift up pushing your lips onto his and hunger hits.. the kiss was so eager so passionate. Your tongues caress one another begging for more pulling the kiss deeper and deeper as he bites your bottom lip.. you feel heat between your thighs building. " Joel fuck..-mhmm.." his lips leave yours finding your neck.. he goes straight to the spot that made you moan earlier.. as he does this your hands in his hair which is something you fantasized about. You did a slight tug and he himself let out a moan. God baby is this okay..he strares at you as his hands trace down under the flannel to your ass. Grabbing it.. literally worshiping it.. you moan again... I think that's my answer he chuckled.

He continues kissing that sweet spot on your neck and you just feel yourself flooding. Your hands roam around his body as you feel the bulge in his pants.. you carefully squeeze and Joel lets out this animal like moan. He grabs your hands being careful not to be too rough with everything you've been through.. baby don't worry about me let me take care of you..

he shifts you around legs on the floor and he gets between them. Kissing up your legs on your tattoos.. ya know.. I have always found these so sexy.. kissing continues upward. "Mhmmm is that -ahh fuck mhmm.." your sentence is interrupted the touch of his fingers grazing your heat through your panties.. can I take these off..?? He asks. And as much as this is heated he is so gentle with you.. which in this moment is what you needed. " yes" you whimper. He slides your panties off the sides your leg open wide for him to dive his tongue right into your wetness.

Mhmm- your- so- he manages to say between licks- so wet- so soft. You arch back pulling him more into you, grinding yourself on his tongue as he licks and sucks. " ahh I'm ahh fuck I'm-" he then slides 3 fingers in he doesn't even bother building it up because he knew you needed it. Fingers curling right where you need them, in and out of you at just the right pace. You couldn't hold it in anymore you've tried to contain it. The room is filled with your moans of ecstasy.. it all building up.. Joel still working on you, fingers in and it as he sucks gently on your bud.. you reach down and pull his face to you, your wetness on his beard but you didn't care, lips crashing together full of need as Joel still working woks his fingers on you..

"Joel - I " I know baby.. mhmm go'head I got you. Cum for me. Let go. And you did you let go. "Fuck oh my god.. Joel's lips back on yours as you catch your breath and the ecstasy of your orgasam washes away. Feel good? He asks.. "considering there is a puddle on the ground what do you think." Mhmm made a mess for me huh baby.. you blush as that hasn't happened in years. " yes." Let's wash up and try to sleep huh. Joel says. "Okay" you follow him to the bathroom then to his bedroom to sleep.

•

You wake the few hours in Joel's bed. Staring at the ceiling you're not sure how to feel. From pretty much stabbing your ex.. to having Joel give you the best oral you've ever experienced to now laying here naked in his bed. You roll over to find his spot Empty but a note was left.

*darlin I'm sorry to have you wake up alone, had to go check on a project, please text me when you wake.. I'll be day dreaming about drowning in that sweet wetness.*

-Joel

You can't help but to smile.. you check your phone to see you have 59 calls from an unknown number and texts.. which you assume are your ex.. you block and delete all of them.. knowing your going to have to change your phone number.. now you text Joel..

* as lovely as it was to ride your face and fingers I think there is some thing else I want to ride today.. (attached image ) you naked in his bed.

-incoming FaceTime : Joel miller

"Hi"

Hi darlin

"Old man I'm surprised you knew how to FaceTime"

Old.. he chuckles.. this old man knows how to do lots of things..

"I'm well aware"

You work today correct..? I'll be there when I'm finished.. this next part might freak you out but just listen to me.. there is a gun in the nightstand.. I want you to take it with you okay. No arguing just do it.

"Okay.. Joel... I woke up to a bunch of calls and messages im scared."

I know baby take the gun okay.. just precaution.. I'll see you later.. and we can talk about what else you're riding.. oh btw Tommy said hi.

"Jesus Christ Joel you told Tommy.!? Fine whatever hi Tommy. Okay see you later.

*facetime ends

•

You get dressed in clothes you had in your car.. little black skirt.. tank top and Joel's flannel. You pull your hair up into a clip.. doing your makeup the best you can to hide the new bruises.. grab the gun and head out the door.

It's about 4 when you get to work.. and if the timing is right Joel will be here in 45 mins.. when you get there the older lady who you work with pulls you into the kitchen. Sweetie pie you alright..? Your old man was in here looking for ya.. real distressed...said something about you owe him money.. you give in and you tell her everything.. what happened where you've been ..

she's the closest to a mother and if you want to be safe you need the truth out there.

Oh honey I'm so sorry she says.. "it's okay.. it's just time to move on and end this." Sooo Joel miller huh.. she chuckles I mean I can't blame ya he's a gorgeous man and an even better human.. he's been through it too ya know.. she looks at you. " I can tell but I don't ask.. I'm just thankful he exists.. but I'm worried people will judge.." do you think he could make you happy? She asks..

"honestly right now there is not many things I'm sure of.. but he is the one thing I am."

•

Joel walks in.. beautiful as ever. You don't know if it's the left over feelings from making a mess In his living room or if he has always been this attractive.. he hasn't even touched you and you feel a heat between your legs.. but today it's ruthless.. it wild.. it's wanting him in every way possible.

He smiles when he notices that green flannel tied around your waist. You grab his order not even having to ask him and take it over to him.. " Mr miller.. whiskey neat and a beer." You always give me what I want huh darlin. "Is there anything thing else you want Mr miller.." you lean across getting close to him faces inches apart. Actually there is.. but I'm not sure it's appropriate to bend you over in a full bar.. don't want them to hear those sweet little moans..your mouth drops. "

"Is that something you've thought about before..??" If we are being honest here, I've been enchanted by you since you started working here. Your tan skin, your green eyes.. those lips. Your face is now a million shades of red. " I need to work I'll be back..." you take off the flannel revealing the cheeky little skirt you have on that hugs all your curves.. you glance back and Joel looks like he just had to adjust himself.

•

Finally 2 am rolls around.. the bar clears out and it's time to get ready to head home... well Joel's home. Kitchen lady left so now it's just Joel and you left in this bar..

" so Mr miller.. bar is empty.." he cocks his head looking at you.. he sweeps you off your feel planting you on the bar.. mhmm I've thought about you All day he whispers in your ear as he kisses across your jaw working his way down to your neck right to that spot. "Hmmmm yeah what about..." you guide his hands between your thighs to you lacy panties you have on. He doesn't even bother teasing he just reaches right in making your body arch. " daddy please" you smirk because you knew that would unlock something. Circling your bud with the right amount of pressure to get you right where he wants you.. Slid a finger in just because.. and what do you want from daddy.. still sliding that one finger in and out just to keep you on edge..

"I want... ahhh mhmm fuck.. " focus look at me, he cups your face eyes locked in. What do you want.. tell me.. " as much as I want to ride you.. I want you to fuck me.. " how he ask.. still teasing toying with you. " on this bar Joel.. fuck me on this bar.. so when you come in here the only thing you think of is me screaming your name as I cum all over your big cock." He's taken back a but he just looks at you and smiles.

He slides your panties off and pushes your skirt up.. you undo his belt unzipping his tight jeans where you can fully see how hard you have him. You reach in and pull it out, and god is he big, long and girthy you just knew he was going to fill you up. He takes his cock and rubs it against your entrance pre cum on the tip mixing with your wetness. Look at me.. you look up and he pushes his cock into you.. " fuckin Christ.. you fill me up so good.." Joel's thrust starts easy and gentle just getting used to each other building it up. And after each thrust it intensifies as he puts your legs on his shoulders thrusting Even deeper into you.. you gonna cum for daddy he says thurts getting harder and faster like he just can't get enough of you he just needs more and more and more. " yes" you whimper "but only if you cum in me.. I wanna feel you explode inside of me.." that's all it took to send Joel over the limit. Hard thrusts as he reaches up to rub your clit.. "my god- I - I " yes darlin come on I'm right with you.. "ahhh fuckkkkk" you feel it come over you as he fills you up. And you cum together. Joel lays there for a second trying to comprehend that just really happened.. "did we just fucking cum at the same time..?" He chuckles yes we did. He's still inside you. AS he pulls out you feel the hot seed drip out of you. Hell of a day to wear a skirt-

Crash

Window bust.

Grab the gun.

•

You fucking whore.!!! You hear your ex scream. He's standing outside the big window looking in. Joel zips his pants as he plops you off the bar. Gun.. you have the gun..? He looks over to see it already pointed in your exs direction. "Go home.! I told you I'm done leave me alone.!"

No bitch.. come outside and I'll finish what i started yesterday.. you and your geezer, cant believe you'd fuck someone old enough to be your father.. but that makes sense right.. because you never had a daddy.. so you have to fuck the first one who even gives you the closure you need huh.. can he even fuck you.? Actually I just did Joel replied smugly.

"Joel call the cops" you hand him your phone.. not taking your eyes off your ex gun still pointed at him.. oh so you couldn't finish it with your knife.. so sugar daddy gave you a gun..?? your ex chuckles all cocky. He's the one that gives you money.? Huh.? The one that brings you food.? You remain silent ready to pull the trigger.. darlin we have to go outside.. the alarms are going off and the police are here.. "we can go outside through the back.. he will probably meet us there but maybe by then the cops will be here.." Joel leads the way holding your hand that doesn't have the gun in.. if I open this door and he's here I'm beating the hell out of him you hear me.. I don't want that to scare you.. or make you look at me differently.. because once I start I don't think I can stop. he stares at you worried. "Do what you have too." He opens the door and you ex lunges at you. Knocking you to the ground.. gun flying.. he punches you blood everywhere.. But Joel towers over him and pulls him off of you .. Joel lands a few good punches and he doesn't stop.. he keeps hitting him over and over and over.. a truck pulls up.. followed by cop cars.. lady who lives next door comes running over. Oh honey.!!! She says.. pulling you away as Joel is still punching your ex.. Tommy comes running pulling Joel off.. cops swarm around us.. pulling you and Joel separate ways.. "JOEL" you scream. "JOEL." "I need Joel don't fucking touch me.. "

you hyperventilate and pass out.

Part 2 coming soon.

Music gives me most of my ideas or I listen to something and it amplifies it

[cellophanejpeg]

i know you want my touch for life | s. hanta

s: After confessing his feelings for you and running away, Sero finally comes back to you.

w: blood, injuries, bathroom sex

n: my deepest and most sincere apologies for taking so long! my brain was throwing a tantrum ): thank you to everyone who commented, liked and reblogged this series! hope you stick around for more Sero thoughts in the future! beta read by my queen @jemifis | read on ao3

previous | start here

Please, call me back.

Hanta, let’s talk about it. Please.

Don’t push me away.

I miss you.

You stare at the text messages you’ve been sending Sero for the past week as you walk down the street on your way back from the grocery store. He hasn’t read the last one yet, though. His last words said to you still echo in your mind, even a week later. You haven’t seen him at work, so you suspect he’s changed his patrol shifts on purpose just so he can avoid you.

You don’t understand why he ran away after confessing. If he had stayed, he would’ve heard you say you loved him back, but he decided to literally jump out the window, leaving you in shock. You remember it had taken a few minutes for you to come to your senses, processing what just happened. Then, you had grabbed your phone to call him, but he has been ignoring you ever since.

The door to your apartment beeps once you type the password to it and you step in, taking off your shoes before closing it behind you. Immediately, you know something is wrong. The air is colder, an icy draft is coming from the window you didn't leave open when you left. Carefully leaving your bags of groceries on the floor, you activate your quirk and walk carefully through your home.

A sound comes from your bathroom, something dropping to the floor and someone swearing. You immediately recognize their voice.

“Hanta?” You say, from the bathroom door.

He's still in his hero costume, sitting on the floor, back turned to you. The supplies from the emergency kit you keep in the cabinet are all scattered on the floor, some bloody gauze and cotton balls staining the white tiled floor. Sero jumps when he hears your voice, looking over his shoulder to you.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” You rush towards him, kneeling on the floor to see blood everywhere. He presses some clean gauze on an ugly wound on the right side of his stomach.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, trying to hide his wounds from you, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“What happened?!” You look for his eyes, but he avoids you. Your hands touch his, gently prying them apart from his wound. When you see it's a gash, not a stab wound, you almost sigh in relief. At least, you wouldn't have to take him to the hospital, “Here, let me help you.”

You grab some scissors from the sink cabinet to cut around his uniform so you can clean the cut. The silence fills the gap as you carefully cut through the fabric; you feel his eyes on you now that you’re concentrated on the wound. You open an antiseptic bottle and dab a gauze on it.

“Are you going to tell me what happened, or you’re just gonna stare at me the whole time?” You say, carefully dabbing the wet gauze on his cut.

“Villain…” He says after hissing from the sting, “got away… I don't know why I came here…��

A small smile curves your lips. “I'm glad you did. I missed watching Gossip Girl with you.”

Sero looks into your eyes for a moment before you resume your ministrations on him. A comfortable silence falls over you both; he watches as you take your time, enjoying the sensation of your fingers gently grazing on his skin. Then, you walk over to your bedroom and pull a shirt and a pair of sweats for him to wear.

“I think you should shower before I patch you up.”

He stands up, with some difficulty, and starts zipping down his hero suit. If this was before, you’d be basking on the sight, watching every curve and crease of his abdomen. But it’s different now. Sero ran away after confessing his feelings for you, and maybe he made a mistake in your eyes. You don’t want him to run now, so you don’t even mention the time you spent apart from him.

Even though this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to him.

“Sure,” he responds, taking the clothes from you. You grab the doorknob to close the bathroom door, but he stops you, wrapping his hand around your wrist, “Angel…”

You swallow hard, avoiding eye contact.

“I’m sorry–”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” You interrupt him, putting your own feelings aside. Of course you want to talk about it, you want to spill your guts to him, say you love him back and kiss him until you’re out of breath. But if he doesn’t want to be with you, his friendship will have to do.

You can’t lose him, not over some stupid crush–

“I shouldn’t have run like I did…” Sero interrupts your thoughts. Your gaze snaps up to him and you see the sincerity.

“Please, don’t…” You plead, tears watering your eyes, “don’t ever do that again.”

He cups your cheeks to wipe the tears that are already rolling down your face, touching your foreheads together and whispering another apology.

“If you had stayed, you would’ve heard me saying it back.” You finally confess, wrapping your hands around his wrists, and closing your eyes. You miss the way he tenses at your words, snapping his eyes open. “But I don’t want to lose you… So if you didn’t mean it, if you said it in the heat of the moment… let’s put it behind us and–”

Sero’s lips press against yours, swallowing your words. You pause for a moment, before giving into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls you closer, slipping his tongue past your lips. He walks you backwards until your lower back touches the sink and, at that, he hooks his hands behind your thighs and helps you up – grunting, since his wound is still very fresh –, on the cold marble surface.

“Hanta.” You try to say, but he’s already pulling your shorts down your hips. “Wait, stop.”

Sero looks at you with hunger in his eyes, but pauses his movements, fingers so close to your core, itching to touch you.

“Your wound–”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he interrupts, burying his face on your neck and gently biting your skin.

“But–” you try to protest, but he doesn’t let you.

“Please, Angel,” he mumbles against your skin, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, “please let me love you, please.”

Heat blooms in your stomach as your heart skips a beat. Thoughts escape your mind as he makes his way down on your body, licking, sucking your skin, and gently nipping on your soft flesh. He pulls your shorts down, along with your underwear, unceremoniously, not wanting to waste a second without touching you. You lift your hips, one side at a time, so he can undress you easily and, soon enough, your ass is on the cold sink.

Sero spreads your legs and knees on the floor, burying his face in your heat. With every lick and stroke of his tongue, you grow wetter and your breath grows heavier. Then Sero pushes two fingers inside you as he stands up, pressing his lips against yours again.

“Can't wait any longer, sorry, Angel, I just–”

He sounds so needy, that you can't help but give in to him. You nod, making sure he knows it's okay for him to give in. Sero unzips his suit, revealing his already hard cock and you barely get a look before he's pushing inside you.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, bottoming out and grabbing your thighs so tightly that his blunt nails dig on your skin.

“Shit, Hanta.” You gasp as he starts a quick and hard pace, “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” he confesses, “Missed you so fucking much.”

You lace your fingers behind his neck, bringing his face to yours, touching foreheads and bumping noses. An occasional kiss is shared between the both of you, but it's mostly curses and affectionate words. You know when he's about to come as his thrusts start to quicken and the moans that slip past his lips are broken.

“I love you!” He breathes on your neck, releasing his orgasm and spilling everything inside you, “Fuck, I love you. I love you so much, Angel.”

A smile spreads on your face, as you recover from his outburst.

“I love you,” you respond, carding your fingers on his hair, “I have been loving you since we were stupid teenagers.”

Sero breathes out a laugh, pressing his lips on your neck.

“Sorry I ran away like that,” he whispers, cupping your cheek with a hand, “I was a little embarrassed…”

You're still smiling at him when you press your lips on his gently.

“I'm glad you came back.” Your hand wraps around his wrist gently. “But I need you to shower. It's a miracle you're not bleeding again.”

Sero laughs, pulling away from – and out of – you.

“Join me?” He takes your hand in his, a pleading look on his face.

You roll your eyes, “No. Shower and then we can go again.”

“Then, we can watch Gossip Girl?”

You laugh out.

“Yes, we can.”

You stand on your toes to kiss him on the lips. Then you push his shoulder, towards the shower box.

“Now, go.”

“Love you,” he says, “see you in a bit.”

“See you.” You leave the bathroom, butterflies in your stomach, joy flooding your senses.

@lousypotatoes @shoyosdoll @fresa-luna @crazyvalerie1236 @siillkie @jeanbabygirl @bookcluberror @joshhutchersonisdaddy @mudibleee

[nnight-dances]

FOR LOVERS WHO HESITATE.

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (ft. xu minghao)

GENRE: fluff, some angst

TROPES: best friends to lovers, reader is oblivious and an idiot sometimes, kinda he fell first and she fell harder, reader is a moa lol and also a hopeless romantic, wonwoo is in photography school and a youtuber.

it's raining cats and dogs when you step out of the shower and the burst of thunder that follows has you thanking that your commute from work to home hadn't seen any such rain. it's a big night for you, after all, you can't have anything spoiling it. it's txt's comeback night and for once, your schedule's freed up in time for you to be able to enjoy the coming weekend with some brand new music from your favorite kpop group. what's more is you had a date on saturday and where usually you would be shaking with nervousness, you actually quite liked this guy. his name was minghao, and he made you feel a calmness with him that you had yet to feel with another man on any dating apps. maybe there was hope after all…

you apply your prized lavender-scented body lotion as you re-listen to some old albums that have been close to your heart and hum along happily. you're about to turn the kettle on for some tea when you hear the doorbell ring. with a sigh, you glance at the time. there were only a handful of people who'd drop by your place at 9 on a friday. 

"wonwoo," you murmur when you start to vagule recall texts from him about coming over for ramen and ice cream. you pad over and open the door to the tall man peering at you through his glasses, "you didn't read my texts again, did you?" 

you gasp in feigned offense, "wow, you're really just gonna assume i didn't? of course i did! and that's why i knew it was you barging into my house this late at night."

"late?" wonwoo questions your wording as he lets himself in and then pauses when he catches sight of the elaborate set-up in your living room. the tiny projector you had bought ages ago and long-forgotten about is now out and function, displaying your laptop screen on the white wall, open on txt's youtube channel. 

"ohhh," he slowly turns around in realization, "are they coming out tonight?"

"coming back, yes," you call out from the kitchen, turning the kettle on like you'd planned, "i'm making some tea, you want any?"

"no, but i'll have the ramen you promised me." 

you narrow your eyes at him, "you do realize you promised yourself ramen, right?" 

"come on, y/n!" wonwoo starts whining, "you never hang with me anymore! it's always just work, home, txt, hinge boyfriend, work, work with you. what about jeon wonwoo time? what about best friend bonding hours?"

you can't help the chuckle that escapes you, watching the tall man slumped against your light blue fridge with a pout on his lips. he pushes his glasses back with sleeve of his black hoodie to stare you down. 

"...i hear you, sir," you start, "but to be fair, we did hang earlier this week when i took you out to lunch for getting a million subscribers on your youtube channel." 

"that doesn't count!" he complains, "that was like, duty-based hangout."

"right," you laugh, "listen, woo, i do wanna hang but you did see my plans for the night in the living room. so i mean, if you wanna grab some ramen and watch five men being silly before their new music drops… you're more than welcome." 

this time wonwoo's quiet, mouth moving undecidedly as he weighs his options. then, he shrugs, realizing he wasn't going to change your plans for the night. "eh, sure. it's not like it's my first time anyway." 

"cool! we have a plan!" you clap, "glad we came to an understanding." 

wonwoo laughs as he watches you take out to packets of ramen and start preparing the soup for them. now that he knows he gets to spend time with you, he relaxes, taking in the light blue pyjama set you have on. it matches the scrunchie in your hand and the hairclips that hold your bangs back in place. he notices how in the silence you naturally start humming a song under your breath, the melody vaguely familiar to wonwoo from the time he's spent listening to txt with you. 

truth be told, wonwoo really needed this tonight. he's had a long week of juggling classes and content creation, now that he had the new burden of pleasing a million people who had put their trust in him to speedrun and try out the newest video games. he's also had to meet up with friends, old and new, who reached out to him thanks to his new milestone. while he was always so grateful for the support, at the end of the day, he was an introvert and it was only in solitude he could gain back the energy he'd spent. 

except of course, solitude came back when it was with you, nevermind the real definition of the word. easy to say, over the years of your friendship with wonwoo, he'd become used to finding comfort in your warmth, though it changed with time. when you were both in college, it meant studying together and holding each other through the hard times. when you graduated and went on to get a job at a publishing company you'd always admired, wonwoo continued school to get a masters in photography like he'd always dreamed. now, comfort meant escaping his dorm room to drop by your place so he could bother you. 

sometimes, he hesitated, worried that he might actually be bothering you. you were an actual working adult, after all. but then, he'd find you sending him stupid memes in the middle of the night on a working night and he'd change his mind, knowing he couldn't go another week without seeing your face. 

"hello? you're just gonna stand there and watch me do all the work?" 

your stern voice breaks wonwoo out from his daydreaming and focus on the two steaming bowls of ramen that have appeared on the kitchen counter. "oh, sorry," he says, "just zoned out."

"not that you would've been much help with your hands of disaster."

"hey," wonwoo calls, "that's unfair, i'm a perfectly competent cook."

you raise a brow at him, "really, woo? would you say a perfectly competent cook would cut his thumb on a potato peeler? or, what was it the other time, would he spill boiling hot soup all over himself?"

wonwoo purses his lips. "whatever. i can just wash dishes if you're gonna be so mean about my cooking skills."

"sorry, woo, but there are no skills to be mean about," you murmur as you top the ramen with some fried egg. "anyway, here, take these and i'll bring us drinks. beer good with you?"

"you know it, sir," he confirms as he carries out your orders, balancing the bowls in each hand and making his way to the living room. he takes a seat on the couch, when something on the screen catches his attention. though your youtube screen is crowded with suggestions related to txt on different variety shows, there's a video in the corner that shows wonwoo's face. he recognizes it as one of his newer videos this week, one he made to thank his followers for their overwhelming support. he's honestly surprised to the red bar under the video indicate that you'd already watched the whole video. he didn't think you'd have the time to watch an hour long video.

he can't help the satisfied smile that creeps up his face, feeling a new level of accomplished knowing you were so up to date with his content.

"you're really just gonna grin like that to yourself?" your voice calls out, "i'm scared, should i keep a weapon close?"

wonwoo shrugs, "i don't know, would you really have the guts to kill your favorite youtuber?" 

you're caught off-guard and when you see wonwoo's video on the screen, you redden, averting your gaze as you place two cans of beers on the table. "so much for supporting my best friend," you mumble, adorable pout on your lips as you break open your chopsticks, stirring the hot ramen around. 

wonwoo keeps his smug excitement over the fact that you didn't deny his claim to your favorite youtuber and simply joins you in cooling his noodles. "anyway, i thought that txt was releasing new music? why would that include them being silly?"

"the countdown live, obviously," you inform him before slurping some ramen.

"ahh, right, i forgot those were a thing. when does the live start?"

you turn your laptop to yourself and scroll till you find the link to the countdown live, "hmm, let's see. it says here that there's 33 minutes." 

"wanna watch an episode of demon slayer while we wait?" wonwoo asks gingerly, ready to be rejected immediately. but you seem distracted by your phone, your quick typing indicating you were texting someone. "hm? texting a new guy?" he asks, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. 

you hum out a yes and after a minute, you put your phone down, smile on your lips. "you must really like him if you're texting him back that fast," he comments.

you look at him with a chuckle, "i met him last week on hinge. woo, he's stunning and genuinely nice. how rare is that combination?" you sigh, "i honestly still think he's a little too good to be true but i guess i'll find out tomorrow."

"tomorrow?" he asks, "where's he taking you out?"

you cough, "we're going to a museum and then to lunch at an italian place."

"damn," wonwoo mutters, "he's rich then, i presume?"

you hit wonwoo's arm, "what's your next question? how much does he make a year? his criminal history?"

"i mean, does he have one?"

"wonwoo," you warn him, "he's a perfectly nice guy. or so i hope. anyway, wanna watch this episode of txt's show? it'll warm you up for the live." 

wonwoo quietly nods as you click on the recommended video. he takes a deep breath to settle the storm in his stomach and sips his ramen soup to clear his head. he was here to spend time with you, not fight with you over questionable dates you found on hinge. 

"that one's soobin, right? he's my favorite," wonwoo smiles when the guy's dimples deepen with a joke another member cracked. 

"i thought you liked beomgyu!" you laugh, "you're a really unfaithful one, aren't you?"

he shrugs, "i don't know what you're talking about, i've always been biased toward soobin." 

"you didn't even know his name till five minutes ago, but sure, woo, if you insist."

the episode ends with both of you weak with laughter, partly because of the goofy nature of the games txt was playing but mostly because throughout, one of you would make a remark that would get the other laughing and build from there. it really was a never-ending battle with laughter when wonwoo was around. 

"oh, i must know what happens next! i know soobin's gonna win this thing," wonwoo says. 

"ahh, as much as i want to watch the second episode, we should tune into the live or we're gonna be late," you tell him. "we can watch the second one some other time?"

"it's a date," wonwoo teases back before he can stop himself from filtering his thoughts. but it's too late, you've turned to him with a look of scrutiny, wondering if he was joking or not. 

"right, okay, here it is," you pull up the live, which has been on for about five minutes. soobin is in the middle of talking about the album when you tune in. "ohh, look, your favorite boy's talking about the album."

"i see that," wonwoo smiles, "where's your favorite guy at?"

"hmm, wait… ah, there he is, yeonjun with his new haircut," you gasp, "god, black hair suits him so well." wonwoo narrows his eyes at the black-haired guy you've pointed out. you're right, he looks amazing, though he can't tell if it's the hair or just his general abundance of beauty. 

the rest of the countdown live goes not unlike before, with you helpfully supplying wonwoo with any context he might missing behind the member's comments. at exactly midnight, wonwoo watches their new music video with you, laughing when at its end you immediately click the replay button. after its third re-watch, you switch to spotify and listen to the entire album once before nodding in satisfaction.

"that's a solid album," wonwoo comments, smiling at your half-contained excitement. "it's everything i need to get through life till their next comeback," you say, "the title track's my favorite for the first time. although that might change as i relisten to the album."

"the title's the catchiest so that's probably right," he says. wonwoo's about to say some more about the album when he catches the look in your eyes. "what's wrong?"

"sorry, i feel bad for making you sit through that for like, three hours."

wonwoo's heart melts a little when he catches you fiddling with the hem of your pyjama top. he lets out a lighthearted chuckle, "you didn't force me. i had fun, y/n."

you smile, "i had fun, too. i always do with you." wonwoo's heart skips a beat at your admission, his cheeks warming up, "oh, right, i should show you the new speaker i bought the other day." you stand up and run over to your room excitedly. 

a few minutes pass and wonwoo sighs, hand at his chest, trying to calm himself down. he rests his head against his arm, slumping against the sofa, as his mind races. this won't do, he thinks, closing his eyes to shut out his bothersome thoughts. 

perhaps, he calms down a little fast because when you return with the speaker clutched in your hand, you find him dozing off on the couch. you smile at the sight, plopping down next to him. "always falling asleep anywhere, aren't you?" you mumble under your breath, eyes drawn to the portrait of serenity that wonwoo was. you watch him breathe steadily for a while before you rest your head against his arm, inexplicably drawn to the sight before you. 

you felt… weird, almost itchy, when you're this close to wonwoo. his eyelashes were longer than you expected at this distance and you have to contain the desire to brush your knuckles against them. you wonder what he must be thinking, to appear to be so at peace. you let out a hum unknowingly and wonwoo stirs. 

he comes to with a start, feeling a weight on his arm that hadn't been there when he fell asleep. and then he opens his eyes, almost convinced he's still dreaming when he finds your head against his hand, blinking solemnly as if you had been watching him sleep.

wait… hadn't you actually been watching him sleep? wonwoo starts to wonder but you cut him off when you whine, "you dozed off, jeon wonwoo." 

"sorry, i didn't mean to," he mutters, unusually shy. 

"well, it's fine. it's getting late," you say. then, after a moment, "do you just want sleep over? it's kind of a trek to your dorm from here."

wonwoo hesitates, blood rushing to his face at the idea of sleeping over at your place. "no, it's fine, i'll just go back."

"no, i would feel too bad letting you do that," you insist with a pout, "plus, it's saturday tomorrow so you don't have to worry about rushing back to class or anything."

he pauses. you were right, it was a pretty reasonable proposition once he thought about it with straight mind. "then, i will," he agrees, "but where do i sleep?" the question comes from the knowledge that you did only own one bed, the one that was in your bedroom. never mind that it was big enough to fit you both, the fact that it was in your bedroom made it off-limits in wonwoo's mind. 

"my bed?" you ask.

wonwoo sits up, "absolutely not."

"damn," you mumble, but don't think much of it, "i guess you'll have to take the couch then?"

"that works for me."

you narrow your eyes at him, not wanting to push him to sleep in your bed if he really was that strongly against it but you can't help but pry a little more. "you sure you don't prefer a soft mattress with proper pillows?"

"you forget that i can fall asleep anywhere at any given moment with minimal trouble," he shrugs. "but i will ask of you to lend me one of your plushies."

you chuckle at that, "alright then, if you insist. i'll bring you a blanket and a plushie." when you leave to accomplish said missions, wonwoo takes a second to marvel and… well, panic at his situation. 

he'd only ever slept over at your place once and that was when he passed out from drinking too much soju. that didn't really count, especially since that time hoshi and karina had also passed out next to him on your floor. so this really felt like a big deal to wonwoo. 

you come back with a pile of a soft pink blanket and a matching pink bunny in your arms, dropping them next to wonwoo on the couch. "there," you say, "you want tea before you sleep?"

"nope."

"anything else? water?"

"oh, is there a toothbrush i can borrow?"

"ah, right. i should have some spare ones lying around. come, i'll show you."

it's nearly 2 am by the time wonwoo's in bed (couch), changed into some oversized shorts you had and sporting the same skincare that you used every night. it's all a little much for his poor heart, doing these domestic things with you as if he hasn't been down bad for you since he can remember. 

"okay~ goodnight, woo, sleep tight!" you call out. you pat his cheek, crouching next to the couch as you watch him settle down for the night. he mumbles back a goodnight somewhat quietly and you can't help but laugh to yourself at how adorable wonwoo looked.

"tell me if you need anything, okay?"

you stand up, ready to head to bed yourself and really, wonwoo should be thankful he can be alone at last, perhaps, collect his thoughts and rest his brain for the day. but being up so late must be getting to his reason because he reaches out to hold your wrist when you're about to leave, with a hurried, "wait!"

you stop with a raised brow, "what's wrong?"

"my goodnight kiss!" he blurts out with a sudden rush of courage. "i need one to fall asleep."

silence follows his words and wonwoo's ear slowly start to burn up when he hears the echoes of his absurd request playing back in his mind. he lets go of your wrist just as quickly he'd reached for it, covering up with a half-laugh, "i was just kidding. good night!" 

a beat passes and he thinks you must really find him ridiculous to not respond to anything he's said but before he can dig himself any further into the hole he's made, he feels your hair brush against his skin. he barely has time to register your body leaning over him when he feels you lips press against his cheek. the moment should last forever but it's over all too quick. wonwoo can't see your face in the darkness but he hears your voice near his ear, breath soft, "good night, woo."

he could die now, he really could, and he would die a happy man. he muffles the sound that escapes his throat when he hears the door to your room creak as you close it behind you. you, on the other hand, stare at yourself in the mirror in disbelief at what just happened. 

you really didn't know what to make of wonwoo's request out of the blue, but something about the way he looked so cozy, hair sticking out every which way in the moonlight that spilled into your living room, something about this night in general had you feeling strange. you felt the same itch you'd felt when you found yourself unable to take your eyes off a sleeping wonwoo. it's like when you encounter a beautiful cat lounging in the sun and had to drop everything so you could take in its joyful existence. you couldn't move an inch, completely fascinated by this being before you.

"what the fuck am i thinking…" you mumble, feeling your cheeks warm up. "i must be really tired." 

turns out even after a night's sleep you feel as confused as you did when you fell asleep. with a grunt of frustration, you roll over in bed and choose to scroll on your phone to distract yourself for a bit. it's almost 11 when you hear a knock on your door. you contemplate pretending to be asleep but then there's another knock, followed by wonwoo's, "y/n?"

you feel too bad leaving wonwoo to fend for himself in your home so you force yourself out of bed, patting your hair down as you pad over to the door. "hey, morning–" 

your greeting is interrupted mid-way when wonwoo's face moves close to you – hilariously close until he's kissing your cheek. your breath catches in your throat and you freeze up. wonwoo stands back up, arms on the doorway, a small smirk on his face. what had possesed him overnight? 

you could only ponder in defeat when he merrily called out, "good morning! did you sleep well?" 

"i… did…" you start and then stop, hand coming up to the cheek where wonwoo had kissed you. "what was that for…" you wonder more to yourself but wonwoo picks up your flustered question and shrugs.

"i was only paying you back for your goodnight kiss," he smiles, unsettling you to your very guts, "that was your good morning kiss."

you groan, suddenly losing all clarity. frustrated, hiding the blush creeping up your neck, "you know that's not a real thing…" but where you mean to sound harsh, you simply sound bewildered. wonwoo swallows his chuckle and pats your head, "i'm hungry. can you make me breakfast?"

you glare at him, trying to figure out what his real plan was but he simply follows up with, "pretty please? you wouldn't let a guest in your home leave on an empty stomach, right?"

"i- uh, let me wash my face and i'll make you something," you say, pausing for a split second befroe shutting the door in wonwoo's face. you speedrun your morning routine despite your very best efforts to act and thus, feel normal, you wash your face and brush at your teeth at an abnormal speed. you stare at yourself in the mirror when you consider changing out of your pjyamas and mentally scold yourself for acting like an idiot.

"stupid," you tell yourself as you leave your room to find wonwoo cackling at his phone screen. no matter how you look at it, wonwoo's acting different… he seems more confident, or rather, full of conviction, though you couldn't think of any reason why that would be. 

etiher way, in an attempt to act normal, you start making eggs for breakfast, scrambled and slightly runny the way you know wonwoo likes them. "toast?" you ask him as you whip the eggs onto a plate. "yes,," he calls out, "with some butter, please!"

you sigh as you place a slice of toast on his plate, sliding it toward him. you plop the stick of butter next to him with a knife and tell him with a sarcastic smile, "you can butter your own toast." 

"i sure can," he says with a satisfied smile. you really can't understand what he was thinking and it pisses you off, but not nearly enough to sit next to him as you dig into your own plate of eggs.

"as thanks for feeding me two meals in a row," wonwoo starts, swallowing a mouthful of food, "can i do anything for you? buy you a new pan? go grocery shopping with you?"

"i'm good, thanks."

he frowns at your curt reply. "ohh, how about a movie? it could make for a solid saturday night."

"sorry, i've a date tonight, remember?"

"ah, that," he says, flatly, "i mean, if you have time later right?"

"i'm pretty sure i'm gonna be beat by the time i'm done with the date. maybe tomorrow," you say but you know he can tell you're only half-heartedly saying so. he gives up after, thankfully for you. 

"all right, i should get going! as it turns out i forgot my clothes in the dryer for two days straight and someone threw them onto the floor…" you let out a horrified gasp at wonwoo's casual confession, "so i should probably deal with that."

"dude, please, why aren't you running back to your dorm right now?" 

"alright, alright, i get it! see you later, y/n!"

with that, the man's off, seeming somewhat appropriately concerned for his clothes now. you sigh once you hear the door close after him, resting your forhead on your fist. your head hurts and it's not even noon. you're mostly just having a hard time comprehending the last 12 hours you spent with wonwoo. 

it's not out of the ordinary for you to do impromptu things with him like this but you feel strangely empty now that he's gone. what's worse is your mind keeps replaying this morning when he kissed your cheek like a broken record. it makes you feel like a pervert, thinking about the kiss as if it wasn't wonwoo, your best friend for life. plus, there's that itchy feeling that won't let up every time you think about him. "man, this sucks," you groan out, opening your phone, "and i still have to get ready for that date." 

in an efffort to clear out the weariness you feel, you hop into the shower and take extra long in there, singing along to the new txt album and letting your worries wash away with the new vanilla scented body wash you'd bought earliere that week. without a doubt, you feel much better after, patting your damp skin down with some skincare.

that's when you're suddenly reminded of how last night wonwoo had crouched next to you, ridiculously focused on applying the products you handed him all over his face. he looked adorable, straining to get every pore covered as his fingers ran over his face. he had to squint of course since you'd told him you wouldn't stand him getting your precious skincare all over his glasses. after he was done, he'd elbowed you lightly, "how do i look?" 

"so clean and healthy, my princess," you joked as you patted him on the head. the proud look on his face made you swoon a little–

what the actual fuck. "fuck," you curse out loud when you realize you'd lost your newly regained sanity to the walk down last night's memory lane. "what the fuck," you repeat under your breath as you through your last steps in a hurry. you feel yourself spiralling again when a ping on your phone saves you. 

it's minghao.

minghao: afternoon, y/n! hope u slept well last night :)

minghao: just wanted to tell you i might be a little late cuz i forgot i had to run an errand for my mom! sorry

you melt a little at how sincere he is in informing you of every little change in your plans and can't help but feel a little guilty for viewing the date as a burden. that's right, you owed it to minghao to respect the date and approach it with an open mind. confusing feelings for your best friend for another day. 

you: hey!! thx for telling me but don't worry about it 

you: i'll text you when i get there so you know where to find me 

minghao: that would be great yay

minghao: can't wait to see you 

you: me either :) 

— 

minghao is amazing, exactly as you expected him to be. he shows up at the exact ETA he'd texted you earlier and not without a whole rose in his hand. when you turn impossibly red and shake his kindness away with a, "...but i didn't get you anything," he smiles and tells you to take it, "it's an apology for me being late to our first date." 

you inwardly lose it over his emphasis on first date and calm yourself down, accepting the rose with a thankful smile. you had to keep it together if you want there to be another date, for real. he's incredibly sweet the whole time, walking through the museum at a comfortable pace – enough that you'd be able to admire the piece but not too long that you ended up staring into nothing. 

after over an hour of perusing the museum's collection, your feet start to hurt a little, no thanks to the uncomfortable loafers you'd brought out for the special ocassion. it's like minghao senses your discomfort and offers to rest at the museum's in-house cafe and get some refreshments. "ahh, i'd love that," you mumble shyly, embarassed that he could see through you so well. 

over coffee, you try not to stare at minghao, noticing the few strangers who would pass by your table and do a double take at the man in front of you. he did catch the eye, what with his blonde hair which sat just right by the nape of his neck. you couldn't think of the last time you'd seen someone pull off a mullet so well.

"sorry if i'm a little out of it today," minghao starts with a small smile, "i slept much later than i usually do because my friend came over without notice."

"wait, you won't believe it but something really similar happened to me last night too," you say with a grin. "what did your friend want?" 

"really?" he asks with a similar smile. "also, well, he's not really a friend, more like a former roommate who can't get over the fact that i got a job and now have my own place. he likes to cope by barging in and having meals with me or watching a movie."

"wow, it's insane how similar your story is… my friend's still in college so he likes to also barge in and eat my food that i cook and watch stuff with me."

the two of you share a laugh, thrilled at the newfound similarity. "that's cool, we're like each other in a lot of ways, huh?"

"yeah, that's pretty cool," you agree. this is bad. you can't stop smiling. was minghao always this charming?

not that you would know, you remind yourself, laughing at his blunt sense of humour all throughout lunch, barely focused on the taste of the pasta minghao had ordered. you feel unlike yourself. like you're floating and all you could feel was minghao's magnetic charm, keeping you focused on him and him alone. or maybe that was the wine talking. 

that's how you end up at your place, kissing his face, before you can comprehend the situation. "fuck," you breathe between kisses, "i don't usually kiss on the first date." 

minghao pulls away with a small grin, "i don't either." with that, he kisses you again. and again. eventually, you make it to the couch, each somewhat recovering in their own way. now that you're back to your senses a little, you're more than glad things didn't go any further with minghao. it really was only the first date. you would hate to regret any of it later. 

"oh, i'm so rude, i didn't even offer you a drink or anything," you stand up, embarassed, "can i get you something? water? tea? coffee? um, i also have beer but i don't know if that's to your taste." 

minghao chuckles, "you don't have to worry, y/n. i'm good as it is."

"no, that won't do. we've been here for like 20 minutes and i haven't even gotten you water," you say, walking over to the kitchen.

"to be fair," you hear minghao say smugly, "we were kinda occupied for a hot second."

"...right," you mumble, reddening a little, "well, i'm gonna get you something whether you want it or not, so what will it be?" 

"some tea would be great," he admits finally. "nice, two teas coming up in five," you call out. you spend another 30 minutes just talking to minghao over tea, when you hear a knock at your door. you frown. 

you try to excuse yourself but minghao gets a phone call at that very second so you silently gesture to the door and he nods in understanding. you open the door and almost close it right back when you see wonwoo on the other side. he's grinning, all merry as if he didn't just interrupt your date. 

"wonwoo?" you question, "can i help you?"

"wow, that's cold," he says. "am i interrupting something?"

"actually, yes. remember the date i had today?"

"i thought that was just some boring stuff like museum and italian food?? now, he's followed you home??" 

you shush wonwoo urgently, thankful that minghao was still on the phone and couldn't hear his rude comments. "wonwoo, i'm busy. i'll hang tomorrow–"

"no, i wanna say hi to your date," wonwoo declares, pushing by you and into the living room where minghao talking on the phone. "rude, bro's on the phone in the middle of a date."

before you can ridicule wonwoo's stupid reasoning, minghao turns around, apparently done with his call and raises a brow when he spots the new figure next to you. you grimace apologetically, "sorry, minghao, this is the friend i was telling you about earlier. i tried to stop him but he wanted to say hi–"

"you've been badmouthing me behind my back?" wonwoo interrupts you with an unimpressed look, shaking his head. "whatever she's told you about me, i'm sorry. i'm wonwoo, nice to meet you."

minghao stands up and strides over to shake wonwoo's hand like the nice guy he is and introduces himself. "nice to meet you, too. i'm minghao." 

"i just came by because we had plans tonight," he says, with a side glance at your perplexed face, "but i guess i must've gotten the time wrong or something."

"oh, no, no, you're probably right. i've been here longer than planned," wonwoo doesn't miss the small smile minghao throws at you. "but i should head out, too. i also have some guests coming over later tonight."

you look deflated at how things are going, "are you sure?" minghao nods as he gathers his things – things such as a brown leather jacket that looked more expensive than any item of clothing wonwoo owned – and heads for the door. you follow him like a lost puppy. 

when you reach the door, out of wonwoo's earshot, you apologize to wonwoo again and he brushes your sorrys off, "don't worry about it. i'm the one who should be sorry for taking off like this. i would've liked to spend time with your friend."

"i don't know how that would've gone down," you say uneasily, "but thank you for today. really. it was great."

"i'm glad to hear that," minghao says with a grin. he reaches close and hugs you, a warmth radiating between you when he pulls away. "thank you for letting me take you out. i hope we can do it again some time." with that he places a kiss on your cheek and takes his leave. 

once he's gone, you go back inside and sigh, a mix of feelings in your chest. on the one hand, you feel uneasy now that your date with minghao is over, doubtful of whether he really meant his words about wanting to go on another date with you. your past experience had taught you can never tell with men, even if they told you they loved spending time with you with the sweetest smile on their lips. 

on the other hand, you were now alone with wonwoo, which was a whole another problem on its own. a problem you didn't feel equipped to handle right now. not when you still hadn't sorted your feelings about him out. whatever it was, it wasn't easy and it sure as hell didn't become any easier when wonwoo was staring you down, intently. 

"...wonwoo," you start, voice low, "i'm really sorry but i don't have the energy for this right now. i just want to head to bed now."

wonwoo doesn't hide the look of hurt on his face. "what? it's like six right now."

"yeah, but i've had a long day and–"

"is this because i interrupted your date with minghao?"

you feel an rush of annoyance rush to your head but reign it for the sake of your friendship. "it's not about anything other than the fact that i'm tired."

"you seemed perfectly energetic when minghao was here. why'd you invite him over anyway? i thought you kept it chill on the first date." 

"well, have you considered that i just genuinely liked him enough to bring him over? more importantly, i don't see how any of this is your business, wonwoo."

"of course it is! i care about you–"

"if you care about me, maybe don't cut my date short next time!" 

the silence is resounding, following your silence and you hate yourself when you see the grave look on wonwoo's face. he was being for real right now. but you really can't bring yourself to understand him.

"wonwoo, i'm sorry, i just don't know what you want from me, okay? i thought you would support me when i'm finally have some luck finding a boyfriend–"

"what i don't understand is why you want to find a boyfriend so bad. i think you're happy enough as it is and you only seem to become upset over men. why invite heartbreak into your life–"

"because i'm a romantic, wonwoo. i just want to fall in love!" you tell him, "i got degree my parents wanted, settled for a job that makes me enough money and maybe a little happy sometimes, but the one thing i want to do for myself is find someone i can love. i want to experience love, at least once in my life. is that really so bad?"

wonwoo scoffs much to your utter disbelief, "some romantic you are…"

"what the fuck did you just say?" 

you see him visibly inhale deeply and sigh. "y/n, i don't have a problem with you finding love." 

"really? because it sure looks like you do? i know you don't really care about love but–"

"why would you think that?" 

"well, have you ever been in love?" you ask him incredulously. 

"of course i have!" he cries out, "i'm in love with you, y/n." 

"you wouldn't–" you start when he says he's been in love and then stumble over your words when you hear his next words. you stop short with your mouth hanging open, "you're– wait, what?"

over the recent years, wonwoo had thought about whether his feelings really needed to be said out loud at this point – he felt like he was crazy obvious. but looking at the shocked look on your face right now, it was clear that if you would never have figured out his feelings without him telling you. which is fair, he can't expect you read people's minds but what really got his heart in a twist was the fact that you hadn't even remotely considered him liking you, which meant you were far from liking him back. 

though this a fact he's gotten used to, he feels the sting stronger than usual, maybe because the last day has him confused. to be honest, when you'd kissed him without a warning, it got to his head. thought maybe he had a chance after all. it was that high he'd been riding the whole time; that morning when he shamelessly kissed your cheek, this evening when he invited himself into your place when he knew you had a date over. 

but now he's positive he was delusional because all you have are platonic feelings for him at the end of the day.

"wonwoo, i'm sorry, i had absolutely no idea that–" you don't even know what to say, you cut yourself off, "i'm- i can't give you a clear answer right now. but if you give me some time, i promise i can."

"you don't have to answer me, y/n," wonwoo says with a bittersweet smile, "i know how you feel about me. but i had to tell you at least once before i gave up. i don't want you to feel burdened by my confession, just– why don't you forget about it?"

you blink at his words slowly, "but–"

"i should probably leave," he says, "i've long overstayed my welcome here." with that, he heads for the door, not heeding your requests for him to wait a second, "sorry for ruining your date by the way," he calls out as he leaves without another glance. 

– 

it takes you a whole day of overthinking your entire life – after all, that's how long you'd known wonwoo now – to come anywhere close to an answer. and really, it's not much. so far this is what you have: 

a week ago, you had never once considered wonwoo as more than a friend. maybe the best friend you'd ever have, perhaps a rare and special connection that you wouldn't have with another person. while the idea had come up, through other people doubting the purely platonic nature of your relationship, you had truly never entertained the thought. not because you had something against it, but because you were convinced a link like the one you had with wonwoo was only possible in a friendship. 

but then last night had happened, and something had possesed you to kiss him on the cheek – that something might've something to do with the itch in your body every time he was closer than normal, something to do with the way you'd been captivated by his sleeping form. 

and reflecting back, you were dumbfounded by how many times wonwoo had tried to hint at his feelings. a few years ago, when you'd gotten drunk with friends back in college, they'd dared wonwoo to kiss the person he liked and he'd politely declined, muttering that he couldn't kiss someone who was being pursued by someone else. as it turns out, and as you had been too stupid to realize, you had been the only one there in a talking stage with a guy you'd met at your part-time job. 

then, there was the way he always responded to you quickly, no matter what, ready to do things he was otherwise reluctant to do. always asking to spend time, always trying to stay close. there was also the eye-contact that he barely made with other friends, even other people – the way you'd look at him to find him already looking at you. 

"i'm an idiot," you tell yourself as you stare at wonwoo's contact on your phone, wanting to hear his voice but not when you still were so undecided. 

that's how it gets all the way to friday and you still haven't reached out to wonwoo. if you're daft reaction to his feelings hadn't closed the deal, your radio silence for the past week sure did. but unwilling to accept that truth, you call him, only a little surprised when he doesn't pick up. 

he must be mad, you think. but as much as that thought scares you, you can't stand giving up already. you end up making your way to his college campus, hoping he'd be in his room, even though it was 6 on a friday night. 

uncertainly, you knock on his door. and then louder a few more times when you don't hear a response. you're close to giving up and walking yourself home when you hear faint voices inside. "--sick of you making me open the door every time—" it's wonwoo's roommate, mingyu. he stands before you, in boxers and incredibly shirtless, and you think you should've at least texted wonwoo that you were coming over. 

but despite your apprehensions, mingyu doesn't seem embarassed, just amused. "oh? it's noona." 

you can't help but smile lightly at mingyu's use of the honorific, as if you weren't only a few months older than him. but him continuing the yearslong tradition reassured you, though you were sure he'd heard some foul things about you from wonwoo over the past few days. 

"hey, mingyu," you wave uncertainly, and try to get a look into the room past him with no avail, "sorry to show up like this, but is wonwoo around? i was trying to reach out to him but he didn't pick up." 

"ah, right, wonwoo…" mingyu says as if he didn't quite know who you were talking about. you can see the gears turning in his head, probably considering if he should tell you the truth or not. the choice is made for him when wonwoo's voice reaches you. he's screaming, "KIM MINGYU, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS BACK RIGHT NOW— WE'RE FUCKING LOSING OUR LEAD BECAUSE OF–" 

you stifle a laugh at mingyu's guilty expression. "right, so he is here," you comment in what you hope is a neutral tone. "you think i can see him?" 

he pauses, looking unsure, "listen, i don't know the full details of what happened with you guys, but wonwoo's been really quiet the past week and i'm not sure if seeing you right now– if he's in the right state of mind…" 

"is that so…" you mumble disheartenedly, though this was a fact that you yourself had been grappling with. "i guess i should leave him alone, then." you're about to take your leave when an arm drapes itself over mingyu's bare shoulder, wonwoo's face poking into your view. 

you freeze up when you lock eyes with wonwoo's face, his smile visibly disappearing. "y/n? what're you doing here?" 

"i was just–" you rub your neck, looking away in an attempt to come up with a credible excuse, "i was just taking a walk around here and thought i'd drop by to say hi. but um, since you guys seem busy, i'll just find another time. anyway, good night!" 

with that, you take yourself out of their sight, rushing down the stairs to the room so fast that you almost trip over and die. thankfully though you've made it to the door that leads out without actually leaving a crime scene on the poor residents' hands. 

"y/n! wait!" 

you stop in your tracks when wonwoo's voice echoes in the stairwell and almost lose all feeling in your knees when you see him run after you, out of breath. "god, woman, since when have you been this fast?"

"sorry," you say quietly, though you're not sure why you're apologizing. 

"can we talk?" 

you look up at him in surprise, "...that should be my line."

"i know, gyu told me why you actually came by," wonwoo admits with a deep sigh, "that idiot, i can't believe he tried to shoo you away without even letting you in. sorry about him."

"no, he was just trying to protect your peace. i get it."

"really? in what world is keeping a guy from the girl of his dreams 'protecting his peace'?"

you gasp at wonwoo's blatant admission and swallow against the lump in your throat. wonwoo looks tired, you can tell from the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulder is set, and you feel guilty for adding to his exisiting stress. you owe it to him to give him a proper closure. 

"wonwoo, i'm so sorry i didn't reach out to talk this past week. i was just so in my head figuring things out and i kept losing the guts to face you. i truly can't express how much i treasure what we have, and honestly, i'm starting to doubt if it was always platonic. because somewhere along the way, i got so used to being around you, i didn't think about what it meant to be that close to someone.

"that being said, i still can't wrap my head around how i feel. i know it's not the clear answer i promised you, but if you give me a little bit more time, i will be able to think it through. but i understand if you wanna keep your distance with me while i do that. sorry." 

"why do you keep apologizing?" wonwoo asks you, brows set in confusion, "you're maybe the sweetest person ever to even think so hard about your feelings for me. and i understand if you need time, it's years' worth of feelings after all… but, there's one thing…" 

you perk up at the last part of his words, "yeah, what is it?"

"i don't think i can keep my distance from you," he says, eyes dropping to his feet for a few beats before meeting yours again, "i thought about it and honestly, the worst thing about the past week was that i couldn't just thoughtlessly intrude into your house and eat with you after a long day. maybe that's on me for having quality time as my love language, but god, y/n, i think i'd be a miserable man if i had to live without you."

"wonwoo, i…" 

"i'm warning you, if you say sorry one more time, i'm gonna do something bad. plus, i feel much lighter now that the cat's out of the bag. i can finally be the truest version of myself around you."

swallowing the millionth apology on your tongue, you say, "then let's not avoid each other. maybe spending time with you will help me understand how i feel–" you stop yourself mid-sentence when you hear what it sounds like, "wait, no, that sounds insensitive… what i meant was–"

"wait, no, you might actually be onto something," wonwoo says and you feel a chill run down your spine at the smirk that takes hold over his face. "perhaps i can find a way to make you sure about me? like, seduce you?"

"what? that's not what i was suggesting–" 

"i know but it's what i am suggesting!" he says, slowly closing in on you, hand coming to rest atop your head. "maybe i can finally let go and do the impulsive things i've wanted to do– don't worry, all within a limit, of course. think of it as the talking stage?" 

"the talking stage?" when he puts it like that, you can see some reason behind it. it wasn't serious enough to be a relationship but still served as a step up from your normal friendship with wonwoo. "i guess that wouldn't be not fine…"

"wouldn't be not fine…" wonwoo repeats your words under his breath, "so you're fine with it??" he sighs in relief, fingering coming to brush through your hair before they returned by his side. "alright then! glad we came to an understanding! now, i'm sorry i must excuse myself for i promised kim mingyu i'd be back at game night in no time." 

"oh yeah, you should definitely get back to game night," you say with a soft smile, but then catch him by the wrist as he turns around, "oh, wonwoo! thanks for letting me say my thing, by the way… and i'm sorry."

he sighs lowly at that, pulling you into a hug, "what did i say about apologizing again? now i have to do a bad thing or i'll be someone who doesn't keep his word." before you can protest, he pulls apart and leans in close to kiss your cheek. then he kisses your other cheek– and then, your forehead. you're turning beet red by the time he stops at your nose, laughing at your struck expression. "alright, now we're good. and i should be the one thanking you for taking my feelings seriously. i'll see you later, yeah? we should do something tomorrow since it's a saturday." 

"yeah," you agree and give him a slight push away, "okay, now go do your thing with mingyu or he's gonna hate me even more."

"he doesn't hate you, he's just–"

"don't wanna hear it! go play your games, gameboy!" 

"alright, miss, whatever you say."

– 

"watch it," wonwoo warns you, eyes fixed on your screen, "no, no, don't go that way, the turret's gonna hit you."

"i don't understand," you whine, "there's too many things on my screen." 

when you'd agreed to let wonwoo teach you how to play one of his favorite games, league of legends, you hadn't forseen the amount of stress would running in your veins. your head hurts and your vision is blurry. you've just started and you're only up against the easiest level of bots but every time you step outside the safety of your base, you seem to get immediately obliterated. 

"okay, y/n, here, let me show you," wonwoo shifts closer to you and if anything, it makes it harder to focus when you feel his shoulder come to rest against yours. at the same time, his warmth soothes you somewhat when he calmly instructs you where to go and how to attack the enemy. his tips help you drastically and in the next ten minutes, you've gotten to the enemy's turret, eventually scoring a kill.

"wonwoo! i got my first kill! did you see that?" you turn to him with a bright grin and find him sporting a similar grin, his hand coming to pat your head. "you did so well!" 

that's how you slowly make it through the first game, securing a victory, mostly thanks to wonwoo's overpowered skills, destroying his own lane and getting to the base in no time. "god, you're such a show-off," you mumble when you see the dramatic difference in KDAs on the final stat summary page. "i don't think i was built to be a gamer." 

"now why would you say that?"

"look at me, woo! i'm sweating my balls off and that was only against bots! i won't last a day in the real world," you complain with a pout, "plus my fingers aren't fast like yours. i take forever to cast my skill and by that time, it's too late."

"y/n, it took me like a week of playing to get my first kill against a bot," wonwoo tells with a grimace, "so the fact that you got through that with a decent KDA is incredible. and my fingers got because i played so much, i didn't get good in a day."

you sigh, resting your head on the couch, "hmm, you have a point."

"but we can call it day if you're tired," he says with a smile, coming back to rest his shoulder next to you and following your resting figure, "thanks for trying though."

"it was fun, but i'm gonna need a week before i can touch this game again."

you feel the laugh that leaves wonwoo in your own chest, the sound filling you with his joy, as if it were your own. without thinking about it, you shuffle closer to him, a soft sigh escaping you when you feel his bicep harden against your arm. 

"you good?" he asks you in a low voice when you stay unmoving for a while. you nod with your eyes still closed. "i'm doing great," you say, "just recharging." when wonwoo doesn't say anything in response, you take a peek at him to see him looking at you sideways, with a goofy smile. 

"mind telling me why you're looking at me like that?" 

"nothing, i just thought it was cute how you volunteered to play league for our date when you don't even know how to play."

you flush, "well, i figured i'd have you teaching me the ropes. and i've been wanting to play with you because you said it's one of your favorite games." 

"that's sweet of you, isn't it?" wonwoo says, unable to stop smiling. "you always treat me so well." 

"i do, for some reason. it's almost like i'm attached to my best friend or something."

you bite your tongue when you accidently let the words slip, tensing up as you start to correct yourself. "i didn't mean it like–" 

"y/n, don't worry about it," wonwoo shushes you with the same smile he's had this whole time. "i know what you meant. and i'm flattered." 

you sigh in relief as you drop your eyes to your lap, fiddling with your fingers, somewhat nervous for no real reason all of a sudden. maybe it's because you're conscious of wonwoo, afraid to slip up again and say something hurtful.

"you don't have to be so careful around me, you know?" he starts, "i've lived with this feelings for a while so it takes a lot for me to sway. and remember no matter what happens between us, i'm always gonna be your friend at the end of the day." 

"thank you for saying that," you say quietly, eyes still on your hands, feeling guilty. 

"hey, at least look at me if you want to show your gratitude."

"i can't. i'm…" you trail off, and then, "i'm sorry." 

"there it is again," wonwoo groans, "now you've done it. i'll have to punish you again for apologizing." his hand comes to rest atop your restless ones, slowly stopping your uneasy movements and intertwining his fingers with yours. and then steadily, he takes your hand close to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the knuckles. "the more you say sorry, the more i'm gonna have to work harder to make sure you fall in love with me, okay? and it's honestly pretty bad for my heart if i keep having to do things like this, so spare me."

bad for your heart? you question him in your head but don't voice iti, shaking your head at wonwoo's sly words. "you're insane," you murmur. 

"alright, that's more like it." 

– 

the following week, you see new sides of wonwoo because he takes it on himself to do all kinds things that are out of the blue for him. for one, he's been labelling every hang-out as a date, even when that day entailed perfectly normal activities you'd done a million times over with him. "it's an attempt to rewire your brain," he tells you with a foxy grin, "i'm making sure you don't forget to view me as a love interest."

speaking of love interests, he'd been straightforward with you that if you wanted to go out with minghao that would be fine. but you'd declined the possibility because you wouldn't know what to do with yourself around him now that you were immersed in the uncertainties of your relationship with wonwoo. and on thinking long and hard about the date with minghao, you'd gotten the feeling that you were interested in his looks more than anything. sure, he'd been so charming but it was wonwoo that was keeping you up at night. 

that's why you find a way to turn him down when he asks if you'd like to go on another date with him:

minghao: hey, y/n! there's a night market near where i live this weekend

minghao: i've never been able to go but i've heard it's super pretty

minghao: so i was wondering if you'd like to come with me? :) 

you: hey, minghao

you: i'm sorry, i don't think i can see you again

you: i really enjoyed our date but there's someone else i'm talking to atm

minghao: oh

minghao: i see

minghao: dw about it! it was nice to see you either way!minghao: but just out of curiosity, is this new person your friend from the other day?

you: huh??

minghao: you know the one who came to your place when i was over

you: …it is him

you: how'd u know

minghao: hehe i just got a vibe

minghao: he looked at you like you were lovers in another lifetime

you: girl what 

you: i mean that's so sweet but really?? didn't he just look at me like i was going to feed him for the night?

minghao: no way, when a guy looks at u like that… i don't know how else to say it but he'd love if you were a worm

you: interesting

you: thanks? idk

you: you're cool for a guy that just got rejected 

minghao: it's ok, i'm sure i can land another date in time for the night market ;)

you: of course you can 

you: goodnight minghao :)

minghao: night, y/n! maybe we'll meet as friends someday 

you: maybe…

"damn it, he's smooth…" wonwoo whines when you show him your screen the next day, only after you've made him promise you that he wouldn't jump to conclusions. "i don't think i can stand you being friends with him. like ever."

"wonwoo, i don't think that's gonna happen. but even if it did, i don't know, i think he'd make a great friend."

"oh he most definitely would. that's precisely the problem. i can't be outdone by another man like that," he says in a ridiculously grave tone, "he's too cool. i wouldn't stand a chance against him."

"you realize that the only reason i'm not going on that date with him is because i'd rather go on a date with you?" you poke wonwoo's arm with a soft smile.

the man hesitates, processing your words before a smile breaks out onto his face. "wait— i mean, of course i know i'm– wait, does that mean you–?"

"i'm in love with you, wonwoo. i think i've always been. i was just too much of an idiot to understand it."

wonwoo's imagined you saying something along these lines a lot but what he's been far more prepared for is you rejecting him. for the longest time, he's lived with the reality of you not reciprocating his feelings and that's honestly what became normal for him along the way. so when you look into his eyes, it's like you're looking into his soul and leaving him completely starstuck. all he can see is you before him for a solid few seconds before he truly comprehends you. 

"don't look so shocked! i thought this whole week was for this exact outcome!" you laugh at his speechlessness. 

"right," wonwoo swallows against his dry throat, suddenly shyer than he's ever been, "i'm just shocked. i didn't expect for it to actually work? i don't know, are you sure you love me? it's not just as a friend? like, i'd understand if it's just because we've known each for the longest time and seen each other through hard times."

"wonwoo…" you exhale, "are you rejecting my feelings right now?"

"no! of course not!"

"then why are you doubting me? i know how i feel about you. that's the whole reason why i took so long to give you an answer."

"i know," his gaze drops to the floor, head reeling a little. this is what he's wanted deep down for the longest time so he can't help but feel like he's dreaming right now. 

when you hear the doubt in his voice, you take his face in your hands, forcing him to look back at you. "wonwoo," you shake him, "i love you." you peck him on the nose. "i want you to be my boyfriend, if you'll have me."

"of fucking course," wonwoo seems to return to his senses when you press your lips against his skin. cheeks red and eyes wide, his hands find your body, fingers already by your jaw, pulling you closer. "i love you so much, i think it'll kill me one day. but for now i think being your boyfriend will do." 

you giggle at his dramatic statement and close the distance between you, feeling the warm of his breath like never before. he kisses you back immediately, letting out a low groan at the action, the hand at your waist, squeezing you lovingly. 

"can't believe i waited so long to do that," he says when the two of you pull back. 

you kiss his cheek with a soft mewl, "you're so warm, woo." 

"am i?" he wonders, arms moving on their own as they bring you closer to his chest. he kisses your forehead, "now we can both be warm." 

— 

"okay, okay, i'm ready to leave," you call out victoriously as you step out into the living room. wonwoo looks up from the projector screen where he's currently rewatching a run-through of a new game was gonna try out for his channel. but he immediately loses the smart comment he was gonna throw out there when he sees you, all dolled up and showing off the dress you're wearing with a smug smile.

it's a simple blue dress with a modest neck and long skirt that hugged your hips perfectly. and it also happened to be the dress wonwoo's birthday gift to you last year. you'd worn it out with him before but this is definitely the first time you'd taken it out on a proper date. and how appropriate for it to be a date with wonwoo himself. 

"you like?" you ask him as you walk closer to him, running a hand through his hair. 

"i love," he replies instantly, arm coming to your lower back, "you look heavenly. god, do we have to go out? i don't mind just staying here and watching you in this dress."

"no," you decline his ridiculous request firmly, "i've been wanting to visit this bookstore for the past year. so i'm sorry, love, but you'll have to do with watching me read if you really want to be creepy."

"it's not creepy if i'm your boyfriend, is it now?"

"...maybe."

"alright, i think i'm good to go then! let's go!" 

at the bookstore, you genuinely have to shake wonwoo off your back and force him to find a book he likes before you leave. he complains and whines about how he just wants to enjoy his girlfriend's taste in books but when he does finally wander off, you find him engrossed in a book he found in the science-fiction section.

you sneak up onto him with a grin, "enjoying yourself?"

he looks up, "...surprisingly. but only because i got kicked out…"

"you wanna get that?" you ask him, taking a glance at the book cover. "just drop in here," you show him your basket that already has a couple of your picks in it.

"you're buying?"

"mhm, think of it as a token of our first real date?"

wonwoo smiles, eyes bright, "alright then. thanks." 

after that, the two of you walk over to the restaurant wonwoo had had reservations at. it was also a fairly new place but had gotten popular for being a couples' hot spot. and wonwoo understands why when the waiter shows you to your table for the night– it's secluded by a corner on the porch, with nothing but a candle illuminating the surroundings. 

"ah, we can also move the table so that both chairs are next to each other?" the waiter says with a polite smile, "would you like that?"

"yes, please!" wonwoo calls out enthusiastically and you squeeze his hand with a chuckle as the waiter nods and shifts for the rearrangement. 

"this is perfect," he says when you sit next to him. "this way, i can still hold your hand," he mutters. 

"you're cute," you tell him with a soft grin, "i love you."

wonwoo leans in to kiss your lips softly, leaving you a little breathless when he slips in a quiet, " and i love you more than you could imagine." 

author's note:

oh my god this fic took everything out of me to get out there... took a whole entire week but she's here, i really hope you guys like it!! i'm really down bad for wonwoo recently, to the point that he might've joined my bias line haha... more reason why tomorrow's gonna kill me. honestly though, this man will keep me going through some tough times (aka jeonghan and wonwoo shortage).

also, i lowkey fell in love with minghao while writing him here so expect a fic soon??? lol idk for a moment there i was confused who this fic was really for (sorry wonwoo i love u tho). as always, thank you for reading and i love reading what you think so please do let me know <3

[lizzieisright]

My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

power bottom!reader x subtop!Abby

Summary: Abby comes home agitated and asks for a different way to blow off her steam.

Tags: fingering (r and abby!receiving), oral(r!receiving), strap usage(r!receiving), tribbing, face sitting, Abby has to sit and watch as a punishment, light primal play(????), cumming untouched, Abby wears a collar, reader is a little bit of a pain slut, slight degradation (no name calling), begging.

wc: 6.3k

a/n: I was this 🤏 close to writing puppy play with werewolf alpha!abby, I swear

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Abby comes home from her usual “gym rats hangout” with twitchy fingers. You've learnt to notice those things because they signal the same thing to you: Abby is in the mood. 

“Hey Abby.” You greet her from your place on the bed where you've been reading the book Abby recommended a week ago. “How did it go?”

“Pretty normal.” She answers and you note her higher than usual tone: she is not telling you the whole story. “I'm gonna go shower.”

You hum and go back to your book, giving Abby the space she needs when she lies to you about her feelings. She will come and talk eventually, so you're not anxious - Abby has a very complicated relationship with being emotionally vulnerable and you follow her pace in these moments, letting her come to you. 

Abby takes a shower and comes back in her usual joggers and a muscle tee - you ogle her as a dutiful girlfriend should and she smirks at you. 

“Nice to know I don't spend my time in the gym for nothing.” Abby chuckles and you nod, eyes following her movements until she finally collapses on top of you, putting her head on your tits. 

Abby doesn't speak but starts to draw circles on your waist and you sigh from contentment: it's nice. Abby's hands always feel nice, and you tune yourself to her mood and relax, giving her the reins: restless Abby likes being in control, likes being busy and likes to take her mood out on you. 

“Hey um- Can we try something?” This is not dom Abby's voice. Dom Abby is quiet and cold, concentrated, scary even. This Abby is soft and warm, which confuses you for a second as you come back out of your lazy bliss. 

“What's up?”

“I got so pissed at these assholes today and I really want to not think about it.” She admits and you hum again, listening to her. “But I don't want to be in charge.”

You take a second to give Abby's words more precise form in your head. She is not in her usual subby mood, her hands are still gripping you tight, so she is not talking about subbing right now, but she doesn't want to have control...

“So you want me to dom you? But you want to top the whole time?” You finally say.

“Yes.” Abby looks at you with hopeful eyes. “Can we do this?”

You take a moment to think about it. You don't let Abby touch you when you dom her because she is usually in a subspace to escape her daily responsibilities and you decided long ago to spoil her, give her space to do nothing but be pretty. So right now your brain is trying to figure out how to get Abby into subspace by making her work. Ideas pop up in your head fast, and you smile at her. 

“Come here.” 

Abby climbs up and you weave your fingers through her unbraided hair, massaging her scalp before guiding her into the kiss. 

It feels different, having Abby press you into the bed and still maintaining your control over her, but there's really no dominant bone in her body right now. Yes, her sculpted arms are caging your face on the sides, but her mouth is so fucking soft you can help but smile into the kiss. 

“You want to fuck me, princess?” You whisper into her lips and Abby nods a few times. “Use your words.”

“Please let me fuck you.” Weak, weak little baby, you think as you caress her pink cheeks while she looks at you with big eyes. “Let me, please-”

“Bring me your collar.”

Abby's eyes glaze over for a second and she rushes to get the collar and give it to you so you can put it around her neck. You fasten it quite loosely, since you got into a habit of tugging on her collar and you don't want to hurt her.

“That's my good girl.” You tell her and Abby tries to kiss you, but you stop her roughly. “Who told you you can do that?”

“I'm sorry, ma'am.” She says, but you hear her impatience, her eagerness. “Can I kiss you, ma'am? Can I?” Abby's hands are twitching by your sides as she restrains herself from touching you.

“Oh baby.” You chuckle, amused. “Not yet.” 

“Fuck.” Abby whispers to herself, desperate. “Sorry- I'll be good, I'll wait.”

This is interesting. You are so used to Abby giving you all the control, asking you to do something instead of asking if she could do something that it throws you off balance a little. But you take your time and take a breath, then tug on her collar and kiss her. 

Well, you tease her: you make Abby chase your mouth, stopping her from crossing the distance when she almost touches your lips, and you can see a small frown forming. Oh, Abby is not happy with your game. 

“Ma'am-” Abby growls and you smirk. 

“Watch your tone or go sit and watch me touch myself.” The steel in your voice quickly puts an end to Abby's antics. 

“Please, ma'am, let me touch you. I've missed you today.” 

Abby's hands hover over your thighs and you take pity on her: you guide her hands to your hips and let her squeeze them. 

Feeling Abby's hands on your body reminds you of a second reason why you don't let her touch you when you dom her: she just feels so good. Her strong fingers digging into your flesh make your thoughts go out of your head and you take another breath to collect yourself. 

“You wanna kiss me, princess?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” Abby rushes closer, a little bold, like an over excited hound who has zero discipline. She likes it, you realise. Abby likes the game, likes pushing on your buttons. She moves her face dangerously close, testing the limits, her breathing fanning your lips. You put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she listens, but watches you almost maniacally, tracking your every movement. 

“Oh princess, you’re really impatient.” You say, amused. “If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to earn it.” 

Abby nods.

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll do whatever you want.” Abby whispers feverishly as she kneads your thighs. “I’ll be good.”

Seeing Abby so desperate but so determined makes you wet in your pants: it’s a new, more delicious kind of power trip. Abby wants to be active and do everything, but your one light touch stops her. One light touch against 5 '10 built like a brick woman who can do whatever she wants with you if she decides to - it makes you dizzy, to have so much power when Abby is not giving up hers. 

“Use this pretty mouth and make me cum, princess.” You order and Abby’s eyes go dark. She’d manhandle you usually, but right now she is looking at you, waiting for permission, even though her grip on your thighs is strong. You decide to drive her crazy even more and once again you move your face until you almost touch her lips with yours. “My good girl knows what I like, doesn’t she?” 

“Yes ma’am.”

You lick the corner of her mouth and Abby tenses, restraining herself from kissing you. You move your lips to her ear, slightly touching it, and Abby’s hold gets tighter.

“Mark me.” You kiss her under her ear. “Bruise me.” You kiss her under her chin. “Hold me down.” You murmur in a low voice right into her ear and Abby growls, really growls.

“Please, ma’am.” Abby pleads and tentatively tugs on your waistband. “I’ll make you feel so good.” 

You lift your hips up and Abby takes them off in a hurry, throwing them somewhere, not caring. You’re tempted to make her go and fold everything to tease her more, but you can’t ignore your own needs: your clit is pulsing, your skin is on fire, and you need Abby’s mouth on you. 

“Can I take your shirt off too, ma’am?” 

“Go ahead.” 

Abby’s fingers are even shaking a little as she takes your shirt off, leaving you fully naked. Her eyes are devouring you, the obsession and lust overpowering her. She doesn’t waste any time and tugs on your thighs to get you comfortable before she buries her face in your cunt, but you tug on her hair in return, moving her head away.

“What did I tell you to do?” You ask her sternly. “Don’t think just because you get to touch me you can do what you want.”

Abby kisses your thigh apologetically, grazing it with her teeth, and you pet her head. 

“That’s better.”

This is all Abby needs to latch onto your thigh and suck a bruise into your skin while you hiss and grip her hair tighter.

“Good.” You sigh, your voice breaking just a little when Abby moves to the other thigh and bites you, holds you between her teeth like a prey, sinking her canines to cause the pain she knows you like. “Yeah, good girl.”

Abby snakes her arms around your thighs and pins you to the bed - you know you won’t be able to move until she lets you, and it makes you roll your eyes from arousal. 

Abby watches you as she licks her way between your folds, opening you up - your taste weaves the moan out of her and she puts her whole mouth on you, licking and rubbing your clit as you leak on her tongue and sigh so heavy, so pretty above her. 

You look back at Abby and she looks absolutely fucking feral, her eyes trained on you like you're her prey, and you can only smirk at her tauntingly. 

“Big bad wolf, aren't you?” You mock her and grip her hair to push her further into your pussy. “I might get a leash then.” 

The grunt Abby lets out into your cunt and the hold getting tighter signals she likes the idea, and you chuckle before breaking into a moan as Abby doubles the effort and really eats you out. Her devilish tongue destroys you piece by piece, contrasting with the pain of her grip on you as she squeezes your thighs, spilling your flesh between her fingers. 

“You're doing, uh- so good, baby, fuck-” You whimper for her and Abby's brows go up in a pleading manner, as if she silently begs you to cum for her. “Add your fingers.” You order her and Abby listens right away, pushing two fingers inside you. “Fuuuuck..” 

“Can I make you cum, ma'am?” Abby asks in a low voice and you push her head back into your cunt.

“Yes-yes-yes-yes, fucking- give it to me, princess.”

There is a millisecond pause before Abby gets overpowered by her own desires, and then Abby's fingers start to curl inside you violently, almost lifting you up with the sheer force of each curl. Your moans get higher and higher until you're almost screaming on her fingers and her tongue as your orgasm builds up in geometrical progression, taking you out fully. 

You cum, gripping into Abby's hair painfully, clamping down on Abby's fingers as she continues fucking you through your orgasm, lazily rubbing your clit on her flat tongue. You feel like you just exploded, fell apart and can't find your own pieces again after what Abby just did to you. Abby sucks another hickey into your thigh and you melt into the bed, feeling high. 

“Can I get my kiss now, ma'am?” Abby asks, almost smirking at you.

“Spoiled little girl.” You murmur, but motion her to come closer. “Barely did her job and already asking for rewards.”

Abby whines quietly, her previous smug face turning into pleading one again. 

“Ma'am-” She can't argue with you, you have all the power, but Abby is desperate. “I made you cum, I was good.” She begs and you chuckle, caressing her cheek, cleaning your cum from her chin. 

“You fucked my brains out, princess.” You kiss her and Abby moans, turns into mush on top of you, opens her mouth for you, because hearing you say this almost makes her cum in her pants. 

You make out for a while, your wet hot mouth on her soft, warm one, feeling each other with your tongues. You calm down from your high, but Abby just gets more restless. She needs her energy released, she needs to burn through it, and you know exactly how she can do it. 

“Do you want to fuck me with your strap, babygirl?” You tease her, but Abby can only nod. 

“Yes, ma'am.” She gets bold again and kisses your cheek. And then she grinds against you and you can't help your surprised chuckle when you feel the hardness in her pants.

“Oh, you naughty girl. You took it to the shower, didn't you?” You can't help your smile when Abby blushes, caught, hiding in your neck.

“Ma'am, I wanna fuck you so bad.” She admits into your ear and your clit throbs. “Wanna see you cum again.” 

“You're so spoiled.” You scold her and tug her hair to make her look at you. “Straighten up.”

Abby sits up and you take her strap out of her pants, lining it up with your hole, and Abby, naive Abby, thinks she can just thrust into you, but you stop her with your other hand on her hip. Again, it's such a light touch, but it stops her immediately.

“No, you're just going to watch, greedy little girl. You're not pushing inside until I let you.” 

Abby nods and can only helplessly watch you play with yourself using her cock. You run it up and down between your folds, smearing your slick, and Abby watches it glisten in the lowlights of your bedroom. God she wants to fuck you, she wants to make you scream and leak onto the bed, she wants to hear you whimper how good she is, how good she is making you feel, but instead she watches you nudge your clit with her dick. 

You watch Abby's tortured face with a smirk, the soft silicone rubbing you just right. 

“I can cum just like this, grinding against your cock, princess.” You tell her and Abby looks at you, genuinely terrified. 

“Please, ma'am, I'll do so much better for you, I'll make you feel so much better.” She begs and you smile when her hips twitch. 

The relief Abby feels when you nudge your hole with the head of her strap is downright religious. She looks at you, waiting for permission, her fingers lightly squeezing your thighs. 

“Prove yourself, then.” 

You both moan when Abby smoothly slides inside after you coated her dick with your slick. She watches you, how you arch, how your naked body reacts to her, how your tits spill to the sides and your nipples tighten. She sees the shiver cover your skin from how good she feels inside you, and Abby can't stop herself but to go as deep as she can in your pussy. 

“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby sighs, her voice trickled in lust, as she thrusts into you slowly, her hips hitting the underside of your ass. 

You moan and tug on her shirt so Abby would get closer, and then you push your fingers under her collar, wrapping them around it, and hold Abby down while she ruts into you, desperately grunting into your ear. 

“So good f’me, princess.” You sigh and then moan when she thrusts into you so hard it makes you move up on the bed, knocking the air out of you. “Fu-ah-ck, shit, you're barely holding on, aren't you?” You tease her with your broken voice and Abby growls into your neck. “Look how you're fucking me, baby. Fucking look.” You growl in return.

Abby listens and tries to move away to see properly, but you only let her go as far as looking between your bodies since you still hold her by the collar. 

“God, ma'am- you're so wet, fuck-” Abby sobs and fucks you hard and slow, hungrily watching her strap move in and out of you.

“You did it.” You say between your whimpers. “Like a good girl.”

Abby scrapes her teeth on your neck, desperate, but you tug her back so she continues watching fucking you while you moan and dig your nails into her shoulder. 

“Ma’am, fuck, please-” Abby pants and looks up. “Can I go faster? Please, I'll be good for you, I'll fuck you so good, please.” 

You pull her closer and kiss messily, feeling as feral as Abby looks right now, bite her bottom lip painfully and feel her hips snap into you in response.

“Go ahead, princess. Make me cum on your cock.” You pant into her mouth and Abby's eyes go dark. 

“Thank you, ma'am.” She tells you in her scary fucking voice and you feel like the power shifts between you for this one second. She places both of her hands by your sides for stability, and you know this is it. You're going to be destroyed. 

The first hard thrust makes you squeak and then there is no break: Abby's pace is unrelenting, her hips are strong and she uses it to her advantage, slamming into your pussy, going so deep on each thrust it becomes hard to breathe for you. You moan and whimper into her ear, scratching her shoulder when Abby hits the spot just right, but you keep holding her by the collar to make her remember who is in charge here. 

“Fuck, unnnhhh, you're so good-” You tell her and Abby looks into your eyes like she can find a proof there, like the noises she fucks out of you is not enough. 

“Thank you, ma'am.” She pants and buries her head into your neck, licking your skin with her whole tongue, lapping at your collarbones. 

You feel animalistic, like both of you are stripped down to your instincts with all growls and grunts that leave both of your throats. Abby sucks on your skin and grabs your hip painfully, pinning you down so she can move even faster, harder, making your cunt squelch with how wet she gets you. You don't cling to her - you grip like a predator grips their prey in their claws, and the desire to hurt, the same desire Abby has in her, makes you dig your nails into her throat. Abby whimpers and gently bites your shoulder, licking her bite right away to soothe you, and she feels how your walls grip her strap, not letting her pull out easily, almost with a pop - you're close, you're so close Abby can't help but moan. 

“Ma'am, would you cum for me? Please, please cum for me-” Abby says into your neck as her hips keep drilling into you: by this point she doesn't care how tight you are, she is going to keep fucking you until you cum. 

“Fuck!” You sob, every movement of Abby's cock making you open up for her. “Fuck, baby- shit, keep going, yeah?” You feel like you are about to cry: it feels so intense, your legs start to shake in anticipation. “Holy shit-” You sob and Abby looks up at you, watching your now wet face with blown out eyes and an open mouth: you look like a god to her. “Baby-”

You squeeze your eyes shut from how much you feel as your orgasm bursts out, dragging you to the pits of hell with white hot pleasure and you can't help the scream ripping from your chest. 

Abby moans involuntarily: seeing you like this while she is in subspace, while she is serving you, is goddamn holy. She feels how her own clit pulsates and the desperation takes over her.

“Ma'am, can I cum?” Abby asks you shyly while she is fucking you through your orgasm, but you barely register her voice, so overwhelmed. 

“You better, princess.” You growl and then squeak as Abby gains her speed back.

The mess of whimpers and grunts gets louder as Abby approaches her orgasm while she is watching you cry from overstimulation, feels your fingers grip her throat, listens to the best sounds in her life and this all trips her over the edge. Abby ruts into you, chasing her orgasm, and moans into your shoulder when it finally hits her. Her hips erratically slam into you and you tug on her hair: the perfect mix of pain and pleasure makes Abby see stars.

You can't help the quiet moans that leave your throat on every exhale: you're still pulsating around Abby's strap, and Abby lies on top of you, making your sensitive skin feel her everywhere, even though she is fully clothed. 

“Holy fuck.” You chuckle, surprised. “Are you okay, babygirl?”

Abby hums in agreement. 

“Tired?” You are gentle now, smoothing Abby's hair out: you don't know her limits in this.. order of things, so you're being careful. 

“No, ma'am.” Abby presses her forehead to yours and you smirk. “Whatever you want, I'll do it.” 

“Yeah? Did it feel good to cum while you fucked me?”

“Yes, ma'am. You're so beautiful when you cum.” Abby looks into your eyes, needy, definitely waiting for something. “Can I kiss you, ma'am?”

You hum and pull Abby into the kiss and she gets bold, kissing you a little too aggressively than she is supposed to, but you let her - she deserves it. She shifts her hips and the strap presses inside you, making you gasp into her mouth. Abby gets excited and presses harder, but you stop her. 

“What do you think you're doing?” 

Abby just looks at you dumbly, caught in the act. 

“Please.” That's all Abby can manage. 

“Please what?” You hold Abby's chin between your fingers, making her look at you. 

“I want to make you cum again.”

You pretend to think, but then you let Abby go. 

“Take your clothes off.” You tell her. 

Abby nods and slowly pulls out of you: you feel your hot slick dripping down your ass and it makes you smile - you like knowing how well Abby fucked you. 

“You see this, princess?” You nod at her absolutely soaked strap. “You see how good you made me feel?” 

Abby swallows, really tempted to lick the strap clean since it has your cum on it, but you asked her a question and she has to answer.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I bet your pussy is drenched as well.” You smirk and Abby blushes while she takes her clothes off. “Come here, princess, and ride my clit.” 

Abby freezes for a second, taken aback, so, “Colour?”

“Green.” Abby says in the husky voice and gets on top of you. She slots herself between your legs and- “Oh my God-” Abby gasps when she feels your hot wet cunt on herself. “Oh my god it feels so good.”

You pant as you look over Abby: her collar is loose around her neck, her hair sticks to her back and her eyes are so wide it is almost funny, and you'd have teased her for this, but Abby starts grinding on your clit and all thoughts leave your head. 

Abby's legs and glutes are strong, meaning she moves fast and hard on top of you, bumping your clits together: she slides so smoothly since you're both soaked and you moan quietly, and the idea comes to you. 

“You're not allowed to cum until I do, do you hear me?” You tell her as sternly as possible and Abby whimpers. 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

You smile at her, mean - you know between the two of you Abby always cums quicker, so you just set her up for failure. And Abby knows it as well, looking at you with pleading eyes and an open mouth as her moans leave her lungs - she hopes you'll be kind to her. But you won't. 

You try to calm down your breathing and hold off your orgasm, even though Abby is moving perfectly: she is fast and her clit brushes over your clit just right. And then you feel how Abby sneakily tries to slow down. 

“Are you tired, princess?” You ask with mock concern. 

“No ma'am.”

“Then pick up the speed and make me cum.” You tell her with the steel in her voice. 

“But ma'am, I'll cum.” Abby whines. “I wanna be good for you, please.” 

“I told you, you don't get to cum until I do. Figure it out.” 

You're being mean to her and Abby doesn't have a choice but to pick the speed again and try to not cum, even though she feels how close she is: she is already twitching when your clit touches hers just like she needs it, and it won't take long for her to fail you. 

And Abby knows you are good at punishments, so she decides to do only one thing she can:

“Ma'am, please, I can't hold it any longer, please-” You frown and slap her thigh lightly, not pleased. “Please, I'll be good, please can I cum now, I'll do anything you want, I can't- It's too much-” 

Abby is sobbing but keeps going, driving herself insane: she can't stop herself from cumming but she also can't stop moving without you punishing her and Abby feels her adrenaline going up at the thought of what you might do when she fails you. 

“Don't even think about it, princess. I said no cumming.” You growl at her and Abby is done. 

She keeps moving pathetically, riding out her orgasm and thinking you will forgive her if she just keeps going even though her clit is pulsing and her slick is dripping down on your pussy, her pace lost and erratic. You move up and grab her by her collar, letting her moan into your lips as you watch Abby ride out her high. You're pissed off and Abby gets the tingles - the fun ones when she is scared of you but she is also absolutely fucking thrilled about what is to come. 

“Oh, this is a bad, princess.” You tell her coldly. You look so calm and collected while Abby is a mess. She can feel her lower stomach quivering from the aftershocks, her hair is stuck to her body and her face is fully red. “I didn't give you permission, did I?”

“No, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am.”

“Sorry is not gonna cut it.” You snarl. “You had the audacity to cum before I was satisfied.”

“I'm sorry, ma'am. Can I make you cum? I promise I will make you feel so good.” Abby pleads, but it's to no avail. 

“No. You fucked up, you won't get to touch me until I let you. Go sit at the edge of the bed.” 

If Abby could whine like a puppy, she would. But she listens and sits where you told her. 

“Give me your strap.” 

Abby perks up with a small hope as she passes you the harness: maybe you will let her fuck you again? Maybe, at least, she will get to lick your cum from the strap? Oh Abby would give anything to just taste you right now. 

But you take the dildo out of the harness and spread your legs, showing Abby your soaked pussy. 

“Hands behind your back and spread your thighs, don't even think about touching yourself. Bad girls only get to watch.”

Abby swallows and does as she is told and just watches as you drag the dildo between your folds, smearing it with your slick.

“You see this? Your cum is all over my cunt.” Oh fuck, Abby thinks. Oh no. She will have to- “Watch how I'm going to fuck it back in and make myself cum, since you were so busy being a brat.”

Abby whines. She can't help it - she is supposed to do it. It's her job to serve you, to please you and make you feel good, and you took it away to punish her. 

“Yeah, I bet it felt nice, not listening to me.” You murmur and moan when you push the dildo inside. Abby watches how it stretches you and her fists tighten, it is supposed to be her. “Can't wait to have your cum inside me, princess. The only good thing from this.” You scoff.

Abby bites her lip to cope with what she is seeing; you pull out and rub the strap on your pussy to collect the slick on her strap just to push back in. Her cum is in you. This thought makes Abby dizzy and desperate: she really considers not listening to this order as well and just- just touch you and taste you. 

“Your cock feels so good.” You taunt her and Abby whimpers. 

“Ma'am, please! Let me do it, I'll make you cum, please-”

“Quiet.” You bark at her and Abby listens. “You don't get to ask for anything. Be grateful you get to watch.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” Abby says in a small voice and quiets down. 

You relax and continue playing with yourself as if Abby is not even here - you're concentrated on your own needs right now, fucking yourself with the dildo, feeling how it rubs all over your walls, and it's not enough now. So you lick two of your fingers and put them on your clit, rubbing and flicking it the way you like, moaning when you feel yourself tighten around the strap. 

Abby is going to cry, she thinks: everything you're doing now is torturing her. She needs to be the one who fucks you and plays with your clit, it's her job. There are red crescents on her palms from how hard she is digging her nails into her flesh, and she is leaking on the bed, because you're so fucking hot. Abby can't take her eyes off you, off your perfect pussy with her cock inside, off your pretty face contorted in pleasure. 

“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby blurts out, not controlling herself.

“Yeah?” You smirk. 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

You like it when Abby compliments you, but she is being punished, so you don't give her a chance to redeem herself. You start rubbing your clit faster, feeling your orgasm approaching, and Abby whimpers again: she can see it as well. She wants to beg you again, she needs to make you cum, but Abby also needs to be good, so she stays quiet and doesn't look away. Your thighs start twitching and your moans get louder now, and Abby can't sit still anymore; she almost bounces on the bed, trying to cope with the fact that you're going to cum without her. 

“Fuck, it feels so good.” You taunt her again, knowing how much it upsets her. “Oh, I'm going to cum-” You whimper when you feel the first wave of orgasm washing over you before the whole tsunami of pleasure. 

Abby is panting, her mind is empty, and she watches you again like a predator, feral eyes trained on your face: you look so good when you cum. 

Tsunami hits you and you moan deeply, frozen in place as your cunt pulsates around Abby's strap. Abby doesn't even breathe, waiting for you to come down from your high. She tries her best to be good and patient for you, and you notice it. Abby is damn near tears, but she is still sitting like you told her to, and she is being quiet as well, waiting for you. You feel like this is enough for her and motion her to come to you when your high subsides. 

Abby is super fast as she climbs on top of you, getting comfortable between your legs again. 

“Hi, baby.” You tell her in a sweet voice and Abby buries her nose in your neck, squeezing you in her arms. “You did so well, sat through your punishment like a champ.” 

“Thank you, ma'am.” 

“Do you want to stop?”

Abby looks borderline hurt at your suggestion, and you laugh kindly.

“I’ll take it as a no.” You caress her cheek gently. “Well, since you’ve been so good, I suppose you can choose how you want to fuck me, princess.”

Abby moans at your words - she is so greedy she can’t pick an option right away, she can’t believe her luck! 

“Sit on my face.” Abby says in a low voice that faintly reminds you of her dominant side, but she quickly remembers her place. “Please.”

“Lie down.”

Abby listens and watches impatiently how you get up and swing your thigh over her chest, your soaked pussy so close to her face she feels how her own cunt pushes more slick onto the sheets. 

“Hold me down and leave bruises.” You gasp when Abby immediately wraps her strong arms around your thighs and pulls you down, making you sit on her face. “Good girl.”

Abby moans into your pussy and opens her mouth wide, as if she is really trying to eat you, and you relax in her grip - the pain from her fingers digging into your hips is mixed with the pleasure from her soft flat tongue and you feel amazing. And Abby is so eager, she eats you out feverishly, watching your every movement. Abby needs to make you cum, to hear you choke on your own moans, but right now you only make these quiet breathy moans - so she sucks on your clit and you twitch, overstimulated. Abby grins into your pussy and you frown.

“Oh, you wanna play games, princess?”

And then it’s Abby’s turn to twitch because you push two fingers into her and curl them. 

“Don’t you dare to cum before me again.” You growl at her and Abby mewls pathetically, tugging you even harder, pinching your thighs when you curl your fingers and hit her sweet spot. You whimper, getting high on pain-pleasure equilibrium, and all hell breaks loose. 

Both of you can’t stop your moans, and everything becomes a chain reaction where you fuck your fingers into Abby and Abby drags her tongue over your clit, sucking and rubbing it while her hands try to break your bones with the force she is holding you down. Your thighs are suffocating her, but she is in heaven: you’re all around her, all she smells, tastes, feels and hears - it’s only you. This is how it is supposed to be: Abby under you, serving you, making you feel good like no one, not even you, can.

“Fuck, baby, just like that-” You choke on your moan and Abby moves her hands to your hip junctions, keeping you in one place as her tongue fucks you like you need her to. “Yes, princess.” You hiss and buck your hips into her mouth, but the iron grip she has on you doesn’t let you. 

You keep curling your fingers inside her and Abby closes her thighs around your hand, trying her best to concentrate on you and not cum before you do, but your pace doesn’t falter even when your voice breaks and your hips twitch. Abby concentrates on your puffy, warm cunt and listens to your moans - but it seems to only work against her, spiking her arousal even more, bringing her closer to the inevitable. 

“You are tightening on me.” You smirk and thumb at her clit, making Abby’s hips jump. “You’re gonna cum when I cum.” You manage to tell her and then there are only moans and whimpers as Abby sucks your clit. 

And then she gently grazes her teeth over it and your climax hits you suddenly; Abby eases her grip on you, letting you ride her tongue while you moan and whine for her. You feel how her cunt sucks your fingers in and Abby is such a mess now, cumming on your fingers while you use her face to prolong your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” You whimper and sit on her chest, looking at Abby’s red wet face as she keeps moaning. “Came with me like I told you to, good fucking girl.”

You take your fingers out and Abby makes eye contact with you when you suck your fingers clean. 

“Oh god-” Abby sighs pathetically. “Fuck, ma’am.”

You chuckle, still riding your high, but you find your strength to move and lie next to Abby, petting her head gently with your shaking hand.

“You want to cuddle, princess?”

“I wanna hold you.” You are surprised, but you go back on top of her and Abby wraps her arms around you, caressing your back. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, princess.” You gently kiss her shoulder and then her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. High.” Abby chuckles. “Thank you. It was amazing.”

“You did amazing, baby. I’m proud of you.” You kiss Abby gently, feeling her whole mouth, trying to show her all the love you have for her.

“You got so pissed at me.” Abby grins and you roll your eyes with a smile.

"Was it too much?"

"I think if you want to punish me again like this, you'll have to tie me down. I almost broke, wanted to fuck you so bad." Abby murmurs and you kiss the marks on her throat. "Does anything hurt?"

You're surprised once again - usually you ask this question, but given the circumstances...

"Deliciously." You murmur into Abby's lips and kiss her again.

"We need to get a leash." Abby says suddenly and you snort.

"Yeah, we do."

[notiddygothgf]

xii

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ You're a devil ❞

★ c.w.: public foreplay, vibrator, smut, confusion again (thank you aki, we all say in unison), lovemaking ( uh ohhhh ), an epiphany. not beta'd

★ a/n: I'M BACKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! omg i have been writing this chapter for like weeks now. it's been so hard. honestly i'm not even entirely sure if i'm happy with the way it turned out, but it was necessary, i'll say that. y'all are gonna have a lot of fun! until shit gets real. not saying tm but enjoy my lovelies ;) (also, if you wanna be on the same wavelength i was on when i wrote this, stream 'My All' by Mariah Carey)

★ w.c: 20k

pornstar ; chapter index

FRIDAY EVENING, after work, after taking a long, relaxing shower, you pulled on some loungewear and wrapped yourself in a cardigan, but you couldn't quite settle. Your thoughts kept drifting back to tonight.

Aki hadn't called it a date, not exactly. He had only said, Are you free Friday at 7?. That was it. No real details. No mention of where you were going. But something about the way he had said it—calm, deliberate—had made your stomach flip.

Now, as you made your way downstairs to the mailroom, you felt a strange nervousness settling in your chest. It was ridiculous, really. It was just Aki. You had spent countless hours with him, had some... late nights together, had made more drunken mistakes with him than you were willing to admit. But tonight felt different. Like something was shifting, tilting into unfamiliar territory.

You ran a hand over your arms, trying to shake the feeling as you entered the mailroom. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead as you rifled through your usual stack of bills and junk—until something unexpected made your breath catch.

A box.

You froze, staring at it for a moment before picking it up. It was light, unmarked except for your name printed neatly on the label. No return address. No clue where it had come from.

Your heart gave an uneasy thud. You didn't remember ordering anything.

A prickle of curiosity ran through you as you carried it back upstairs, your fingers gripping the edges a little tighter than necessary. Once inside your apartment, you set the box on your bed, hesitating only a second before peeling away the tape.

The flaps folded open easily, revealing something soft inside.

A dress.

Your breath hitched.

Beneath it, a folded letter. Handwriting – neat and deliberate. Calm, calculated slopes and curves of pretty cursive lettering. You recognized it from the post-it note Aki had handed you the other day. Clean. Concise. Him.

I hope this gets to you on time. Wear this on Friday. I'll be around to pick you up at 7 PM.

No explanation. No unnecessary words. Just a simple request.

You read it again, something warm and nervous blooming in your chest.

Your fingers brushed over the dress again, lifting it from the box. It was beautiful. Black, sleek, form fitting in all of the right places without giving too much away. The fit looked perfect, which meant—

Aki had asked someone about your size.

The thought sent a quiet shiver through you. Maybe he had checked the uniform orders at work. Maybe he had gone through the trouble of asking someone. Either way, it meant he had thought about this. About you.

A nervous, fluttering feeling stirred in your stomach as you held the dress up to your body in front of the mirror. Your reflection stared back, wide-eyed, lips parted.

Was this a date? It felt like one.

You traced your fingers over the fabric, smoothing it down over your waist, picturing Aki standing in a store, picking this out for you. Would this suit her? Would she like this?

The thought made your breath catch.

And suddenly, the nervousness shifted into something else.

Excitement. The giddy kind, the kind you hadn't felt in a very long time.

What the hell is he doing to me?

The room seemed to hold its breath as you stood before the mirror, the dress clutched in your hands. The soft fabric felt almost foreign against your skin—smooth, delicate, but somehow heavy with meaning. You had barely noticed the tremble in your hands as you slipped it over your body, as though something deep inside you was already anticipating what tonight would hold.

As the dress settled, the sensation of being clothed in something that wasn't just meant for you, but for him, sank in. It wasn't about just looking good—it was about being seen, being chosen, being claimed. The way the dress hugged your form, the way it shaped you just perfectly, it felt like it had been made with him in mind. And suddenly, the nerves were no longer nerves. They were something else, something thrilling.

You traced your fingertips over the fabric again, feeling it stretch across your curves as you imagined him standing behind you, his eyes on you. The thought made your heart beat faster, the anticipation building as you imagined how he would look at you. This is for me, you thought. You belong to me tonight. The thought sent a surge of heat through you, a rush of excitement so powerful it almost made your knees buckle.

He had chosen this dress. He had seen you in it, imagined how it would feel against your skin, how it would look under his touch. This wasn't just a gift—it was an ownership of you, a declaration that tonight, you were his in every way. The dress was a symbol of that, a quiet but deliberate statement that you were being taken, in a way that made your pulse race.

You couldn't help but admire yourself, and it wasn't vanity. It was the feeling of being something to him—something special, something his. You wanted to look good for him. You wanted to embody everything he had imagined, to fulfill his desire for you. You weren't just getting ready for a date. You were preparing yourself to be his. And that thought made your breath hitch.

The mirror reflected your image, but it wasn't just the fabric of the dress or the way it accentuated your body that caught your attention. It was the way you felt in it—controlled, owned, desired. The weight of the dress felt heavy with that unspoken promise, and the excitement only intensified. Tonight, you weren't just dressing for yourself. You were dressing for him. You were preparing for what he had planned. The thrill of his expectations made the anticipation damn near unbearable.

You slipped your fingers into your hair, tugging it back into an intentional style, something that would look just right when he finally saw you. Every touch felt deliberate, as though you were getting closer and closer to being the vision he had in mind.

Your makeup, too, was done with the same careful attention—nothing extravagant, just the subtle touches that made you look like his. A hint of blush to highlight your cheeks, a soft dusting of mascara to make your eyes appear just a little more doe-like, just a little more vulnerable. You wanted him to see that. You wanted him to see you, but a prettier versionof you, the one that was his to look at, to control.

The sound of your flip-phone ringing snapped you back to reality. You glanced down at it, at the small computer that held so much weight. Slowly, you reached for it, turning the thing over in your palm and flipping it open.

Aki Hayakawa.

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you hit answer and held it up to your ear. "Hello?"

His voice replied to you – deep, smooth, sexy as all hell. "Hey. Did you get the package I sent?"

You glanced down at the smooth, buttery black fabric draped over your legs, fighting back a grin. "Oh, that was you?" You teased. "Didn't have a return address. Figured it must have been a secret admirer."

"Very funny," He replied, not sounding the least bit entertained. (Okay, well, maybe a little bit). "We're going out to dinner tonight. I don't know if you figured that out by now."

"Where?" You asked. You surmised that it would have been somewhere nice, given the sleek nature of the dress he had sent you.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," He replied, leaving your question unanswered. "I'll be heading out within the hour. Be ready for me."

Gently, you set your phone down on the counter. Then, taking a deep breath, you sighed – a dreamy, breathless one. A dangerous one.

He finally showed up, and the sight of him stole the breath from your lungs. That damned suit—you knew it well. You had seen it many times before, perfectly tailored, sharp against the broad line of his shoulders. But tonight, it looked different. Or maybe it was the way he stood in the doorway, framed by the dim evening light, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers in one hand and an elegantly wrapped gift box in the other.

Flowers – freshly cut. A bundle of red and pink roses, speckled with white flowers in between. They were swaddled in brown wrapping paper, tucked neatly in his palm.

Your heart stuttered.

"Oh my God," you murmured, stepping forward as warmth spread through your chest. "Come in, let me put these in a vase."

He handed you the bouquet, his fingers grazing yours for the briefest moment—just enough for a flicker of warmth to pass between you, a silent awareness neither of you acknowledged aloud. He didn't move right away, watching you as if memorizing your reaction, as if uncertain whether he had done enough to make up for his absence earlier.

You held the flowers close, inhaling their delicate fragrance, then looked up at him with something between wonder and quiet amusement. "Would you believe me if I told you no one's ever given me flowers before?"

He let out a low chuckle, something soft threading through it. "I'm glad I could be the first," he said, his voice gentler now. His gaze searched yours, unreadable for a moment before he added, "It's the least I can do after leaving you hanging at the office."

You turned away, busying yourself with the flowers, though you could still feel his presence behind you. There was something unbearably tender about the way he stood there, waiting, watching you as though he was trying to piece together the right words, the right way to express what he couldn't say outright.

And then, just as you reached for a vase, his voice came again, quiet but certain.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

Beautiful.

Your breath hitched.

This is a bad idea, you thought. It was a very, very bad idea. You knew how your brain worked – going on a date with the man of your thoughts would do nothing to quell the storm of emotions he seemed to leave in his wake.

Still... he thought you looked beautiful.

The compliment settled over you like a warm, unexpected touch, igniting something deep in your chest. You swallowed, feeling the heat bloom along your neck, your cheeks—an involuntary response, no matter how hard you willed yourself to stay composed.

You turned slightly, your fingers tightening around the vase as you fought to keep your voice steady. "Thanks," you murmured, though the word felt too small to contain the way your heart fluttered.

Nothing about this seems very casual, you thought. Not when he smiled at you, not when he moved to take a seat at your kitchen table, and certainly not when he nudged the pink gift baggy towards you with two fingers.

"I got you something for tonight," Was all he said, sitting back in the chair and watching you while you filled the vase up about halfway with water and plopped the flowers inside – after cutting them free from their wrapping, of course.

With a smile that could have powered a fucking car, you hesitated before reaching for the box. Then, as slowly as you had picked it up, your trembling hands undid the little bow sealing it closed at the top and let it fall open. You reached into it, past the layers of pretty, pastel-pink tissue paper, until your fingers brushed up against something – a box.

Curiously, you cast him a glance. His expression, of course, gave away nothing, so you pulled the thing out anyway, and nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.

It was a pretty pink vibrator. One that looked like it was supposed to go inside of you.

You snapped the cover of the box shut, jaw flying open. Wordlessly, Aki grinned, as if this was all a part of some plan you had yet to understand.

Still, the image of him pursuing the aisles of an adult store just for you, fingers skimming over the boxes in search of something that would fit you – like that fairy tale with the three bears. Not too little, not too much, but just right – did something strange to your gut. You weren't entirely sure you hated the idea.

"Something else for you to wear tonight," He added casually, eyes raking themselves over the dress he had carefully picked out just for you. "Thought it might be fun if we had a little challenge."

"Challenge?" You reiterated, face flushed with embarrassment. "So, what– you want me to just... like– keep it in... me...? The whole time?"

"Something wrong?" He asked. His tone was genuine, but his eyes... his eyes burned with a challenge.

His brows lifted slightly, and then, with a smirk just shy of smug, he said, "Just the other day, you were on your knees below my desk." He tilted his head, considering. "With a coworker in the room." He let that hang between you for a moment, savoring the way your breath caught before adding, "I think this might actually be pretty tame compared to that."

Your face burned as he pushed himself to his feet, moving with slow, deliberate purpose. It was a short distance between you, but somehow, it felt like he crossed an entire mile just to reach you. The space between you shrank to nothing as he reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle—unbearably so.

Then, with the same ease, he pried the box from your grasp.

"Unless, of course," he mused, his voice impossibly soft, "you don't think you can handle it."

A sharp pulse of heat curled through you, something electric buzzing beneath your skin. Without thinking, you snatched the box back from him, your fingers curling around it with quiet defiance.

His smirk deepened.

"I could put it in for you, if you'd like," he offered, his voice dipping lower, silkier, as he took half a step closer.

"No, no—" You laughed, shaking your head. "No. Let me do it."

His gaze lingered, amused, knowing. But he leaned back, conceding.

You brushed past him and walked towards the bathroom, keeping the box tucked beneath your arm as if that would make this whole ordeal any less embarrassing. Then, once you had closed the door behind you, you set the thing on the counter, staring at it.

Intimidating – it stared right back at you.

Momma didn't raise no bitch, you thought.

Then, you were hiking the skirt of your dress up over your thighs and letting your panties drop to the floor. Once that was done, you reached for the box and pried it open. The thing was... kind of cute, actually. You turned it over in your palm, taking a moment to admire it.

You had used your fair share of vibrators before, but this one was different. It was longer than your finger, and was crooked up at the end. The base was flared, and looked as if a part of it was meant to sit outside... pressed up against your clit to provide even more stimulation.

And... well, there was no button.

Maybe this isn't a vibrator at all, you thought.

Still, that didn't stop you from getting a little nervous at the prospect of having it in you the entire night. Holding it up to your lips, you spit on it, letting your saliva run down its shaft, smearing it around. Then, you reached down, between your legs, and...

"Shit," You gasped the moment the cold silicone brushed up against you.

You pressed a little deeper, until the thing broke past the first layer of flesh, until it pressed right up against your entrance. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to see it through, then you pressed in a little deeper.

Do it for him, you thought.

It slipped in a little deeper.

Before you knew it, the entire thing was seated neatly inside of you, pressing up against all of the right spots, and–

"How the fuck am I supposed to walk with this thing?" You whispered to no one in particular, shifting your hips from side to side, just to test it. It would be possible, sure, but not without giving you a limp.

This feels so fucking weird, you thought. Still, you felt... full, and that was enough to have you squeezing your thighs together. Uncertainly, you slid your panties back up over your legs, holding it in place.

You smoothed down your dress, inhaled deeply, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Aki was waiting in your kitchen, seated casually, fingers drumming lightly against the counter. The moment he saw you, his gaze flickered down, then back up, slow and deliberate.

A smirk played at his lips. "Did I tell you that you looked great, by the way?"

You rolled your eyes, but the grin that tugged at your lips betrayed you. "Once or twice."

You reached for your bag, adjusting the strap over your shoulder. "Feels weird, but... I think I'm ready to go."

Aki hummed, standing up, his movements easy and unhurried. His eyes never left you. As he stood to his full height, you fiddled with your hair, reached for the purse you had left on the counter.

"So..." You slid the purse over your arm. "What exactly is this thing supposed to– like– do...?"

Aki didn't answer.

Instead, he held up the remote.

Your stomach dropped.

Before you could protest, before you could even process, he flicked it on.

A sharp jolt of sensation tore through you, white-hot and overwhelming. Your knees buckled, and you caught yourself against the counter with a strangled gasp, doubling over as your breath hitched in your throat.

"Oh—God—" You choked out, shaking your head, gripping the edge of the counter like a lifeline. "No, we can't... we can't do this."

"Of course we can." His voice was maddeningly smooth, entirely too calm. He took a step closer, tilting his head as if he were enjoying the way you trembled under his control. "As long as you don't make a sound, who would know?"

You glared up at him, biting back a whimper, your body still reeling from the sudden, unrelenting pulse.

"You're a fucking devil, Hayakawa," you grit out between clenched teeth.

Aki only smiled, smug and devastatingly pleased with himself. "You ready to go?"

"You're not gonna press that thing while I'm walking, right?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted your bag over your shoulder. Your voice was casual, but the suspicion in your tone was unmistakable.

Aki stood in front of you, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the remote. He twirled it between his fingers absently, as if weighing his options. His expression was unreadable, but you didn't trust the way the corner of his mouth twitched—like he was barely holding back a smirk.

"If I fall," you warned, voice firm, "I'm gonna kick your fuckin' ass."

That made him roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he murmured, placing a hand at the small of your back as he guided you toward the door. His touch was steady, firm, a quiet reassurance despite the teasing glint in his eyes.

The night air was cool against your flushed skin as you stepped outside, locked up the apartment. The city hummed around you, neon lights flickering against the damp pavement, the distant murmur of voices and the occasional honk of a car filling the silence between you. Aki walked beside you, silent but ever-present, his pace easy and controlled.

When you reached his car, he opened the door for you—always infuriatingly gentlemanly when he wanted to be. You slid into the passenger seat, adjusting your dress as you settled in. The moment the door shut behind you, a tense silence fell over the car like a thick, invisible veil.

Aki started the engine, but he didn't put the car in drive right away. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and rolled it between his fingers before glancing at you.

"You can say pineapple if you want me to stop," he said simply.

You blinked. "...Pineapple?"

He nodded once, eyes flickering to you before shifting back to the road. "Pineapple."

A beat of silence passed. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, your stomach twisting—not with nerves, exactly, but something close. It was one thing to tease, to flirt, to push back against his games. But the quiet, firm way he had said it, the way he made sure you knew you had a way out—it made your chest tighten, just a little.

You turned your gaze out the window, the city lights blurring past as he drove. Neither of you spoke.

The tension in the car was thick, electric, stretched taut between you like an invisible wire. The remote sat in Aki's lap, and you had to fight the urge to glance at it every few minutes, unsure whether he'd press the button just to watch you squirm.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, your palms felt a little damp against your thighs.

Aki pulled into a private lot, smoothly parking before shutting off the engine. He didn't move right away, only tilting his head to glance at you. The streetlight outside cast long shadows over his face, softening the sharp edges of his jaw, making his expression unreadable.

Then, without a word, he got out.

You inhaled deeply before following suit.

The moment you stepped out, Aki was beside you. He didn't hesitate before reaching for your arm, looping his through yours as he led you toward the entrance.

The gesture was... unexpected. And more than that, it made your breath catch.

You glanced up at him, but he was looking straight ahead, his grip gentle but firm. Your heart gave an unsteady flutter, something warm curling in your chest despite the nerves still buzzing beneath your skin.

The restaurant was stunning—warm golden lighting, sleek marble floors, soft jazz playing in the background. The air smelled of expensive wine and seared steak, and the quiet murmur of voices hummed through the space like a steady undercurrent.

Aki walked up to the hostess stand, his voice smooth as he said, "Reservation for Hayakawa."

The hostess, a polished woman with dark red lipstick and neatly tied hair, checked the list before offering a polite smile. "Right this way."

She led you through the softly lit restaurant, weaving past white-clothed tables and elegantly dressed patrons. Your heels clicked against the polished floor as you walked, your heartbeat a steady rhythm against your ribs.

At the table, Aki pulled out a chair and gestured for you to sit.

You arched a brow. "Such a gentleman," you teased, but you sat anyway, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as you settled in.

He only hummed, taking the seat across from you.

The waitress appeared moments later, offering water and letting you know that someone would be by soon to take your order. Then, just as quickly, she disappeared again, leaving the two of you alone.

You leaned back in your seat, letting the tension ease slightly as you picked up the menu. The prices had you raising an eyebrow. "This place is fancy," you murmured. "Didn't know you were the type."

Aki merely shrugged, looking at his own menu.

You tilted your head, studying him. Then, with a small smirk, you asked, "You take all your playthings out to dinner?"

Aki didn't immediately answer. He closed his menu, setting it down beside his water glass.

Then, he looked at you—really looked at you. His expression was unreadable, his gaze steady and quiet, but when he spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

"No."

You blinked.

He didn't smirk, didn't tease, didn't roll his eyes the way you had anticipated. Instead, he answered you honestly. And that, somehow, was worse.

You swallowed. "Oh."

A pause.

Then, he tilted his head slightly, observing you, and added, "You're the first."

Your heart skipped.

A slow, warm feeling spread through your chest, catching you off guard. Your fingers curled around the edge of your menu as you tried—tried—to keep your expression neutral, to not let him see how much that simple statement affected you.

You looked away, staring at the flickering candle in the center of the table.

"I should feel special, then," you murmured, voice quieter now, lacking its usual teasing edge.

A pause. You could feel his eyes on you, studying, assessing.

"You are special," he said simply.

Confusing much?

Before you could decide what to do with that, the waitress arrived, all polite smiles and professionalism. You busied yourself with the drink menu, forcing normalcy into your voice as you ordered, though your fingers still gripped the menu a little too tightly. He ordered without hesitation, his voice smooth and confident, as if none of this affected him at all.

As soon as the waitress turned to leave, he shifted in his seat. The movement was small, barely noticeable, except you felt it immediately. A soft vibration, low and teasing, flared to life inside of you. Your body tensed – you bit back a gasp.

Your fingers twitched against the menu.

You exhaled through your nose, forcing your shoulders to relax, feigning nonchalance as you slowly lifted your gaze to his.

His lips twitched, just barely.

The buzz lasted only a brief moment, a fleeting reminder, before it stopped as abruptly as it had started. He had only pressed it once, just enough to get a reaction. A test, a warning – a reminder that he had all of the power.

You took a slow sip of water, using the glass to hide the heat creeping up your neck.

"Really?" you said finally, voice low but pointed.

He hummed, tilting his head slightly as he flipped a page of the menu, as if he were deeply invested in his options. "Something wrong?"

You shot him a glare, but he wasn't even looking at you. If you didn't know him so well, you might have believed he was actually deciding between pasta or steak.

The worst part was the way he remained so composed. You, on the other hand, could still feel the lingering sensation against your clit, inside of your walls, a phantom buzz that made your pulse stutter.

You set your glass down with a deliberate clink. "Cut it out."

This time, he did look at you. Slowly. A dark amusement flickered in his gaze, and then the corner of his mouth lifted into something that wasn't quite a smirk, but close.

"No."

Your stomach tightened—not from the toy this time, but from the way he said it, quiet and confident and so sure. It was a single word, but it carried weight, a kind of promise.

You opened your mouth to argue, but just then, the waitress returned with your drinks. You reeled yourself back in, schooling your features into something neutral, ignoring the way your fingers still felt unsteady as you reached for your glass.

She placed a cocktail in front of you, a neat whiskey in front of him. "Are you both ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?"

You were about to say you needed more time when it happened again.

A second buzz.

You sucked in a breath, your grip tightening around the stem of your glass. It was brief, just as before, but somehow more insistent, more purposeful. Your body betrayed you, tensing before you could control it, and his eyes flickered, catching the movement.

He was doing it on purpose now.

You forced yourself to exhale slowly, smoothing your expression as best you could. Your heart pounded against your ribs, but you kept your voice steady as you turned to the waitress. "I'll have the—" you hesitated, the buzz still lingering in your nerves, still pulsing inside of you, "—the salmon."

If she noticed anything off, she didn't show it.

"And for you?" she asked him.

Dear God.

He leaned back slightly, taking his sweet, precious time. "The ribeye," he decided, then added, "medium rare."

She nodded, jotting it down before collecting the menus. "I'll get that started for you."

As soon as she walked away, you let out a slow breath and shot him a look. "You are impossible."

His lips curled around the rim of his glass before he took a slow sip of whiskey.

The rest of the dinner passed by in a similar fashion.

The candlelight flickered between you, casting shifting shadows along the white tablecloth, distorting the reflection in your water glass. Your fingers traced the condensation on the stem, trying to ground yourself in the cold, the solid, the real. But it was difficult when every few minutes, he pressed that damned button.

It wasn't constant. That would have been easier to handle. Instead, he wielded it with precision, pressing it just enough to catch you off guard, to remind you exactly who was in control of this moment.

Like now.

A fresh buzz pulsed inside of you, insistent and teasing, and your breath hitched before you could stop it. You hunched slightly, squeezing your thighs together, fingers tightening around your fork.

"Something wrong?" he asked, the picture of innocence, casually slicing into his steak as if you weren't actively trying to keep yourself from making a sound.

You shot him a glare, heat crawling up your neck. "You know exactly what's wrong," you hissed under your breath.

His mouth twitched, amusement sparking in his eyes as he chewed thoughtfully. "I really don't."

The worst part was that no one around you had noticed a thing. The restaurant hummed with soft conversation, the clinking of cutlery against plates, a low melody playing from unseen speakers. Everyone was completely unaware that under the table, you were gripping the fabric of your dress, fighting for composure.

You exhaled slowly, straightening, trying to salvage some dignity. He was enjoying this too much. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of breaking.

With careful movements, you speared a piece of salmon with your fork and lifted it to your mouth. A distraction. If you just focused on eating, maybe—

Buzz.

A choked noise escaped before you could stop it. It wasn't loud, barely more than a small gasp, but it was enough. He heard it. You knew because his gaze darkened slightly, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table as another wave rolled through you. The vibrations weren't strong, not really, but they were persistent, perfectly timed to make your body betray you.

You bit your lip hard enough to sting, hands trembling slightly as you set your fork down with exaggerated care. "You're such an asshole," you whispered.

His fingers brushed his chin as he leaned in slightly, eyes sharp, interested, voice low enough that no one else could hear it. "You should be more careful with your words. I'm the one with the remote, remember?"

Your breath hitched again as another pulse hit, and this time, you hunched forward, instinctively bracing yourself against the table. It was too much, too sudden, and a small, helpless sound slipped past your lips before you could swallow it down.

Mortification burned through you.

He heard it.

Worse, so did the couple at the next table. Not enough to know why, but enough to turn their heads slightly, their conversation pausing.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, heat flooding your face.

I'm gonna fucking murder him.

He had the audacity to smile.

"You alright?" he asked again, voice perfectly neutral, as if he wasn't the cause of your current predicament.

Your nails dug into your palm. "You know damn well something's wrong."

His smile widened, slow and satisfied. "Do I?"

You wanted to kill him. You wanted to grab the remote from his hands and throw it across the restaurant. You wanted to do something, but it was hard to think when the silicone toy was nestled so perfectly inside of you. Because you were sitting, it crooked right up against that spot that had you shifting your hips for more, rubbing you in all of the right ways.

The buzzing stopped.

Your body was still tense, coiled like a spring, your breathing uneven. But there was nothing. Just silence. No vibrations, no teasing pulses, nothing pressing against your stomach.

You blinked at him, suspicious.

He simply took a sip of his whiskey, regarding you with a look that sent a shiver down your spine.

"That's better," he murmured.

You exhaled, releasing the table from your death grip. The couple next to you had already resumed their conversation, the moment forgotten. You picked up your fork again, taking a small, careful bite of your salmon, hoping to find some sense of normalcy in the simple act of eating.

But the second you started to relax—

Buzz.

Evil asshole. A strangled whimper broke from your throat, too quiet for anyone else to hear, but loud enough for him. His grip tightened subtly around his glass, and you caught the way his jaw tensed for the briefest moment.

The realization sent another rush of heat through you.

Oh.

He wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be.

You swallowed thickly, adjusting your grip on your fork, as if the very motion could somehow keep you grounded.

"My stomach is killing me," you murmured, barely moving your lips, your gaze dropping to his hands.

A lie, of course. One that anyone would be able to see through.

His fingers tapped against the rim of his glass, slow, measured. "We can leave whenever you want. Just say the word."

You almost took him up on the offer. Almost. The promise of paradise, of being taken home with him... of finally getting this damned thing out of you was almost too tempting to bear. But, then, he looked at you, and you knew what leaving meant.

It meant that you were throwing in the towel.

And you would be damned if you let Hayakawa win.

You licked your lips, feeling lightheaded from the heat, the tension, the thrill of it all. "You're awful."

"And yet," he pressed the button again, just once, just enough to make your body shudder, "You haven't said the word."

You couldn't argue with that.

The candlelight cast a warm glow over the table, flickering against the deep amber of Aki's whiskey. His fingers rested idly on the rim of his glass, tapping a slow, measured rhythm against the crystal. To anyone else in the restaurant, this was just another quiet dinner—a couple engaged in light conversation, enjoying a meal together.

But beneath the table, hidden from curious eyes, something far more dangerous brewed.

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself as you picked up your fork. You couldn't let him see how much this was affecting you, couldn't let him have the satisfaction. If you could just get through dinner, if you could act normal, if you could pretend—

Buzz.

Your body jerked before you could stop it. The vibration shot through your core, sharp and insistent, and you had to grip the tablecloth just to ground yourself. Your breath caught, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to suppress the reaction, but it was too much, too sudden.

Across from you, Aki took a slow sip of whiskey, watching you over the rim of his glass. His face was unreadable, composed as ever, but you could feel his amusement, the quiet, patient way he was waiting for you to crack.

You forced your grip to relax, exhaling carefully. "You're quiet tonight," you said, forcing your voice into something resembling normalcy. "That's rare."

He hummed as he set his glass down, tilting his head slightly. "I'm just enjoying the view."

Your stomach tightened.

Buzz.

Your hand twitched violently, nearly knocking over your glass. You barely swallowed down a choked noise, your breath breaking in the middle.

Aki speared a piece of steak, utterly unbothered. "You seem jumpy," he remarked, his voice smooth, unaffected. "Something wrong?"

You shot him a glare, your nails pressing into your palm beneath the table. Bastard.

"No," you said flatly. "I'm fine."

Aki's lips twitched, but he let it go, cutting into his steak with slow, deliberate movements. "Good."

You took a shaky sip of your drink, gripping the stem of your glass tighter than necessary. You could do this. You just had to hold out.

For a while, it was almost normal. You both ate, making idle conversation, the tension beneath the surface like a live wire waiting to snap. Aki asked about your day, and you forced yourself to answer, focusing on each word, pretending nothing was wrong.

But every time you got comfortable, every time you thought maybe he would let up—

Buzz.

Your fork clattered against your plate.

Your shoulders tensed as another wave of heat rippled through you, your thighs squeezing together under the table. Your breath hitched, and you barely bit back the sound that tried to escape.

Aki took another sip of his whiskey, watching you closely. He noticed.

And he liked it.

You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.

Swallowing hard, you picked up your fork again, though your hands still trembled slightly. You tried to keep eating, tried to act normal, but your body was betraying you, your skin flushed, your breathing unsteady.

You clenched your jaw. If he thought he was the only one who could play this game, he had another thing coming. Quietly, you kicked your heel off of your right foot, creeping towards his side of the table.

Your foot slid forward beneath the table, slowly, deliberately, until it pressed up against his thigh.

Aki's breath hitched.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but you caught it—the way his fingers briefly tightened around his glass, the way his exhale was just a little too sharp.

Victory.

You tilted your head slightly, feigning innocence. "Something wrong?"

His jaw flexed, his grip tightening around his fork. His expression was still composed, but now you saw it—the crack in his calm.

Two can play at this game.

He exhaled through his nose, his fingers shifting subtly near his pocket. "Careful," he murmured.

Careful. A warning. A promise.

Your heart pounded, heat curling in your stomach. You knew it was indecent, knew it was reckless, but at this point, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

He was unfazed, calm as ever, while you were strung tighter than a bow, every muscle in your body aching from the strain of staying composed. Your hands, curled tightly around the edge of your glass, trembled ever so slightly. The soft hum of conversation in the restaurant around you felt distant, almost drowned out by the chaos of your own thoughts.

Aki's eyes flickered briefly toward you, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he placed his empty glass back down. He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing, and that knowledge made you feel both exposed and... well, entranced. He was playing with you, a slow, deliberate game, and he was winning.

But you weren't ready to give up just yet.

When the waitress returned to clear your plates, you took a deep breath, trying to gather yourself. You couldn't let him see how badly he was getting under your skin, how every little touch, every playful press of a button under the table, had your body taut with barely contained tension.

The waitress, oblivious to the storm between you and Aki, set the check down gently between you two. "Can I get you anything else tonight?" she asked, smiling brightly.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could form a word, Aki took the check into his hands, pulling his wallet from his jacket with a fluid motion. His fingers slid easily over the leather, pulling out his card with a practiced precision. Without missing a beat, he handed it over to the waitress, his calm demeanor not giving away a single hint of what was happening beneath the surface.

"No, thank you," Aki said, his voice steady and smooth, but there was something in his eyes—a quiet, almost predatory glint that made you shiver despite yourself.

The waitress took the card and left without another word, leaving you alone with him once more.

Your chest felt tight, your heart still racing from the unrelenting pressure. You didn't dare look up at him, afraid that if you did, you'd see that quiet satisfaction written all over his face. Instead, you focused on the table in front of you, picking at the edge of your napkin as if it could somehow anchor you to reality.

Minutes passed in heavy silence, the weight of his gaze never leaving you. Every time you thought you might catch your breath, you'd feel that subtle buzz deep within you, that dangerous reminder that he hadn't let you off the hook yet. The need to break free, to run, was becoming overwhelming, but you wouldn't give in—not yet.

You were wet – an understatement. Practically dripping down your own thighs, in fact.

Aki, on the other hand, was relaxed, at ease as if the world outside this small table didn't exist. He watched you, his gaze never faltering, like he was studying you in a way only he could.

Studying you the way a lion studied its prey before striking.

A few moments later, the waitress returned, her presence bringing a quiet relief. She set the check down in front of Aki, her smile polite and professional. "Here you go, sir," she said cheerfully. "All set."

You glanced up briefly, catching Aki's eyes as he took the check, still unaffected. He gave the waitress a polite nod before pulling the pen from the side of the folder, the small motion sharp against the quiet of the room. He signed his name fluidly, the pen moving effortlessly across the paper. The whole act was so smooth, so routine, but you couldn't help but watch him, feeling the tension rise once more.

There was a stillness in the air as he capped the pen and placed it back in the folder. His gaze turned back to you then, almost casual, but you saw the flicker of something in his eyes—amusement.

You hated him at that moment. Not for the first time tonight, but this time it was different. This time, it felt like the weight of everything was crashing down on you all at once. You were so close, so close to losing it.

How dare he stop? 

Wait... no.

"I hate you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You didn't even know if you meant it, but it didn't matter. The frustration, the heat, the maddening pull between you—it all exploded in that simple admission.

Aki's lips quirked into a smile, and you could see it in his eyes—he was enjoying every second of this. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, almost affectionate.

You wanted to slam your fist against the table, wanted to scream at him to stop—to just let you be. But instead, you just sat there, your fingers curling against the tablecloth, feeling every inch of your body wound tighter and tighter.

The waitress returned again to take the folder, a small polite smile on her face as she walked away. Aki remained seated, unfazed, as if nothing had happened. But you were still burning. Every part of you, every nerve in your body was screaming for something you couldn't even name.

Aki stood, and the movement was so effortless, so fluid, it almost felt like he'd been waiting for this moment. His fingers brushed against the edge of your chair, the touch so light, so deliberate, that it made your breath catch. Then, before you could react, his hand was at your back, guiding you to your feet. You weren't sure when he'd moved so close, but now, his presence felt like it had always been there, surrounding you. The moment he touched you, a shiver rippled through your spine, curling deep within your chest.

He was careful, but there was no mistaking the firm pressure of his touch, the quiet assurance that he was in control, and you were—somehow—allowing it. You didn't dare look up at him, knowing that if you did, you'd see that knowing smile, that quiet satisfaction he always wore when he had you on the edge.

"We'll see about that tonight," he murmured, his voice so close, so low, it made your heart flutter, the words slipping into your skin and curling there, leaving a mark that felt too tender to ignore.

You wanted to respond, but no words came. Instead, you nodded slightly, as if it was the only thing your body could manage. His hand remained at your back, gentle yet firm, as he guided you through the restaurant. The world around you blurred, the chatter, the clinking of silverware, the quiet hum of music—all faded into the background. The only thing that mattered was his touch, the feeling of him close to you, pulling you along, leading you somewhere that you knew would change everything.

The door swung open with a soft chime, and the cold night air hit you, a stark contrast to the heat simmering between you. It was a relief, a brief moment to collect yourself, but then Aki was there again, his hand still at your back, steady and unwavering. His touch was like a promise. It was like a tether that held you to him, reminding you, pulling you closer, whether you wanted to or not.

You didn't say anything as you walked toward the car. You didn't need to. The space between you was filled with something too complicated for words. His hand never left you, never strayed far enough to make you feel alone. And as much as you might have wanted to step away, to breathe on your own, you didn't. You let him guide you, your steps in sync, your hearts beating in a quiet rhythm.

When you reached the car, Aki didn't release you. His fingers slid along the curve of your arm, a soft, deliberate touch that made your breath catch again, a feeling so intimate it left you dizzy. There was something about the way he touched you, something that felt like it was meant to be. His eyes met yours, and you saw that familiar spark in them—something that made the air between you both crackle with electricity.

He opened the car door for you, a small gesture, but it was enough. You hesitated for a moment, caught in the web of his gaze, before you slid into the passenger seat. The moment your body settled against the leather, you felt the absence of his touch, but it didn't last long. Aki slid into the driver's seat next to you, and the air between you both seemed to thicken, a silent understanding passing between you.

You were wrapped around his pretty little finger.

When the two of you stumbled into Aki's apartment complex, brushing past the desk clerk – who shot the two of you an incredulous look – practically giggling the whole time, it took a great deal of effort to keep yourself from ripping his clothes off right then and there. The car ride had been tense – the good kind. The kind where Aki's strong hand had maintained its firm grasp on your thigh the entire time, occasionally teasing a finger just beneath the slit in your dress. On the outside, you were calm, composed, even, but on the inside? You were dying.

Dying to get in his pants, that is.

Aki led you over to the elevator and pressed the up button with his finger. In the moment that it took for it to arrive, he didn't give you a moment of reprieve – stealthily flicking on the vibrator in a way that had you covering a gasp up with a laugh.

Then, he was ushering you into the elevator's open doors with a gentle tap on your ass. You shuffled in, breathing out a sigh of relief when he turned the thing off, and then settled into the corner furthest away from the buttons, away from where Aki had his back turned to you, fingers pressing into the sixth floor.

Long ride, you thought, swallowing as the doors slid shut with a quiet thud.

Then, there were two.

Subconsciously, perhaps, your eyes raked over the elevator's interior. Aki inched towards you, a devilish smirk on his face. He looked as handsome as ever, of course, and that was the worst part – it wasn't the way he pressed you up against the corner of the elevator like he didn't give a damn if those doors opened and someone saw the two of you. No, it was the way your heart skipped a beat when he slipped a hand beneath your neck, cradling the back of your head and then leaned down.

Your lips brushed against his tenderly, then again – just barely there, just enough to tease. It felt easy, kissing him – too easy. It felt easy when he tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss into something more sinful, lick at your lips, your tongue for entrance. It felt too easy to melt into him, letting him press you into the wall, moaning his name into the kiss.

Fuck. I love the way he kisses me.

"Aki," You breathed, the words smothered by his lips.

"Mhm?" He asked, kissing and kissing your skin until he crept closer and corner to your jaw, where he latched on. Not too much, but just enough to have your eyes fluttering shut.

God, he's depraved.

"Aki– the–" You shuddered, looking up at the camera behind him – the one in the opposite corner of the elevator. "There's cameras–"

He seceded, then, pulling back to get a look of you, and you swore you felt the energy change. It wasn't entirely lust anymore. No, the air around the two of you was steeped in something different. His baby blues scanned over the planes of your face, dropping down to your nose, your lips, for just a moment before returning to meet your gaze. Like he couldn't bear the thought of not being lip-locked with you. Like he needed you. Like you were so much more to him than just another hookup.

Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished, and Aki was pulling away. Before you could protest, the elevator dinged, coming to a stop at the sixth floor.

Aki cleared his throat, nodding towards the doors as they opened. Wordlessly, you stepped past him, slipping out of the elevator. Your heels met the carpeted floor of the hallway, and then he was right behind you, ushering you towards the right.

What the hell was that? You thought.

It was silent, in fact, as the two of you walked further and further down the hallway – came to a stop right in front of his door, where he reached into his pocket and stuck a key into the knob.

I'm about to see his apartment. You realized. I'm about to see my captain's bedroom, and his kitchen and probably his bedroom.

This is dangerous, You peered up into his eyes. Without breaking eye-contact, he twisted the key and opened the door for you. Immediately, the scent of him wafted over you. The detergent he used. The hints of nicotine that always seemed to linger on his clothes – something so distinctly unique to him that you wished you could have packed it into a bag and taken it home with you.

You saw a peek of the foyer – the cubby where a few belongings were stashed away, along with a jar full of incense. Certain shoes were organized, neatly tucked away, and certain ones were strewn about. You didn't have to look at their small size to know they belonged to one of the other two.

To the right, a series of doors. Bedrooms, perhaps. There were three of them, all closed. In front of you, the open kitchen, the TV room, the glass-sliding-door balcony. Not a single thing out of place. Neat, as if he had cleaned up before leaving (only for Denji to leave his shoes out).

You whistled. It was way nicer than your old place on the other side of the city. Bigger, too, with a lot more open space to breathe in. "I gotta get a promotion."

Aki kicked off his shoes while you did the same, "Trust me, it's normally a mess. I feel like a single dad with those two freeloading here."

I could play mom with you, the thought – as fleeting as it was – crossed your mind. The thought of spending some time here with him. If he cooked, you would clean the dishes. If Denji was agitating him, you could pry him off his back, if only for a moment. He listened to you better, anyway.

It was a stupid thought, of course. One you tucked away. You were getting way ahead of yourself.

It's just sex, you thought. Our relationship is purely sexual.

Aki deposited his keys in the trinket tray on the empty kitchen counter, saying over his shoulder, "They're gone for the night. Power and Denji."

Oh.

Aki's fingers brushed yours as he led you down the dim hallway, his touch lingering for a moment too long before retreating. He didn't need to pull you along—your feet moved of their own accord, as if your body had already decided to follow wherever he went. The apartment was quiet, unusually so. Just the two of you now.

Alone.

Your finger found its way to the back of his shirt, trailing down the crisp fabric, tracing the line of his spine through the cotton. You felt the shift in his posture when you did it—how he went still for half a breath, muscles coiling just beneath his skin like he was trying not to react. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

He opened his bedroom door with a casual push, revealing a space dimly lit by the glow of the city seeping in through the curtains. It smelled like him—cool and sharp, with notes of cedar and something warmer underneath, like spice and sleep. You'd never stayed long in this room. Just enough to feel the warmth of his body, then the cold of his silence once it was over. But tonight felt different.

Or maybe it was you who felt different.

You stepped inside, hands at your sides as he moved past you, his tie already loosened at the collar. The top button of his shirt undone. Hair a little messier than usual, like he'd been running his hands through it on the way home. He didn't look at you right away, just dropped his keys on the nightstand and toed off his shoes. The moment stretched. You let it.

You stood at the edge of the bed, turning slightly so your back was to him, fingers reaching behind to toy with the zipper of your dress. Just enough to let him hear it. Just enough to make him look.

"Can you help me with my dress?" you asked, your voice soft, almost innocent—but the undertone was anything but.

There was a pause. The air shifted. You felt the heat of his presence behind you before he even touched you.

It was intimate – far too intimate, perhaps.

Wordlessly, he reached for the zipper, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your spine as he dragged it down with deliberate slowness. The sound was deafening in the quiet room—a hushed whisper of invitation. The fabric loosened, slipping off your shoulders with barely a breath of resistance, sliding down your body like it wanted to be rid of itself.

He didn't say anything. Not at first. His hands hovered for a moment before withdrawing, letting the dress fall to the floor with a gentle sigh.

You stepped out of it slowly, deliberate. You had chosen your undergarments carefully tonight—not that you'd ever admit it aloud. Black lace, sheer in places that mattered, hugging your curves in a way that always made his eyes darken.

"You look as ravishing as usual," he said, his voice low, a rasp of breath just against your ear. Then came the pause, the smile you couldn't see but could feel in the way the air shifted again, thick with it. "No, scratch that — much better than usual."

A shiver slid down your spine, and he caught it, the way he always caught those little tells. That was the dangerous thing about Aki. He paid attention. Even when he pretended not to.

With one hand at the small of your back, he nudged you gently toward the bed. You went without protest, letting the mattress meet your knees before sinking back against the soft, dark sheets. The comforter was cool against your thighs, a stark contrast to the heat building steadily inside you.

Aki followed, kneeling on the bed with you, his knees framing yours. He undid the rest of his tie slowly, watching you with that unreadable expression—equal parts focused and detached, like he was trying to memorize you without letting it show. The tie slid free and he tossed it beside you.

He leaned down and kissed you then—slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world, and maybe he did. The kiss started soft, his lips brushing yours with the gentlest pressure, but it deepened quickly, his hand cupping your jaw, his thumb dragging along your cheek. You melted into it, into him, letting your hands find the open collar of his shirt, the slope of his neck, the quickening pulse beneath your touch.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he murmured between kisses, his mouth brushing yours, voice barely more than a breath.

You smiled against him, eyes half-lidded. "Yes," you breathed, then paused just as he kissed down your neck, lips dragging heat along your skin. "But you said have... like there's no more fun to be had."

He chuckled, low in his throat, his breath hot where it hit the shell of your ear.

"You wouldn't leave a girl hanging, would you?" you added, letting your nails drag gently down his chest through the thin cotton of his shirt.

Aki pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes darker now, pupils blown wide. That quiet restraint he always carried was still there, but barely. Just beneath the surface, you could feel the tension coiling tighter, like he was holding something back—and you wanted him to break.

He kissed your collarbone, then lower, each press of his mouth deliberate, unhurried. He didn't just want to get you undressed—he wanted to ruin you piece by piece. And you wanted him to.

God, I'm so horny for him.

His mouth trailed down your chest, grazing the swell of your breasts, leaving heat in his wake. You arched into him, just a little, just enough for him to notice.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, voice thick with desire, words vibrating against your skin.

Then he looked up at you from beneath those dark lashes, his gaze searing, his breath ragged. And you knew—you were his for the night.

Maybe, dangerously, he was yours too.

One last time, Aki plucked the small remote from his pocket — cruel little thing, harmless in size, devastating in what it did to you. You were already trembling, breath uneven, your thighs twitching with the aftershocks of his slow torment. You barely had time to protest before he flicked it on again, the soft hum of it cutting through the silence like a warning.

"Aki—" you breathed, but your words melted into a moan as the vibrator pressed deep inside, right where you were already raw and too sensitive.

"Just one more," he murmured, almost mockingly tender. "You can take it."

You wanted to tell him no—you should tell him no—but your hips betrayed you, jerking up into the touch with a desperation that made you feel stripped down to something primal. He watched you intently, jaw clenched, the same composure he always wore hanging on by a thread.

The sensation built too fast, already unbearable. Every nerve felt raw, each vibration slicing through you like heat lightning under your skin. You clenched the sheets, back arching, a helpless gasp escaping your lips.

"Aki—please—"

You didn't even know what you were begging for. For him to stop. For him to keep going. For him to end this exquisite ache that he kept building and building until it felt like you might unravel from the center.

Then, just when your body started to break apart beneath the pressure, just when you were about to fall over that edge—

He turned it off.

The silence left in its place was deafening. Your breath caught in your throat, your body still shaking with the ghost of it, your muscles tensed and coiled, suspended in some cruel, endless moment of not-enough.

He leaned down, slipping two digits beneath the drenched fabric of your lacy panties and reaching for that damned toy.

He pulled the toy away with maddening slowness, then brought it to his mouth. Eyes locked on yours, he licked it clean—deliberately, slowly, like he wanted to savor not just the taste, but your reaction. You felt your stomach tighten, something needy catching in your throat. You could barely breathe through the desire thick in the air, and he was feeding it like fire to oxygen.

Your hands, without thought, went for the front of his pants. You wanted him—needed him—so badly it hurt. The hunger had been clawing at you all night, and now it was a wildfire. You fumbled with his belt, fingertips brushing over the hard line of him through his slacks, and he let you—just for a second. Just long enough for your pulse to spike.

Then his hand caught your wrist, firm but gentle.

"Not yet," he said.

His voice was steady, but just barely. You heard the tightness in it, the restraint. He was just as wrecked as you were. That only made it worse.

You looked up at him, flushed and trembling, eyes wide with disbelief. You'd have begged him, if you thought it would work.

He leaned in, kissed your cheek once—frustratingly sweet—and murmured, "Stay just like that."

Then he stood, running a hand through his hair as he adjusted his shirt, fixing nothing, only stalling. You could see it in his eyes—he was holding onto control by the thinnest thread.

"I'll be right back," he said, voice low.

You heard the soft click of a door, the muted shuffle of movement just beyond the bedroom. He was in the closet, you realized—quiet, deliberate. The room felt colder without him in it, your skin still flushed and humming from where he'd touched you, teased you, ruined you—then left you wanting more.

You shifted against the sheets, trying not to think about the ache between your thighs, or the taste of his breath on your lips, or the fact that every second stretched longer with the weight of anticipation.

When he returned, your breath caught.

He was holding a box. Dark wood. Simple, unmarked. It looked old—worn at the corners, like it had been opened and closed a hundred times. Your heart picked up speed without your permission.

He didn't say anything right away. Just set it down at the edge of the bed and flipped open the lid.

Inside: rope—coiled, soft-looking, pale in color. A spreader bar made of polished black metal, a few small leather cuffs, and some other implements you didn't recognize at a glance. Not harsh. Not intimidating. But your mouth still went dry.

You looked up at him, eyes searching his face.

He was calm. Focused. His expression was unreadable—but not cold. There was a softness in the corners of his eyes, an edge of restraint you knew well. He saw the flicker of hesitation in you. The way your breath caught. He came closer.

"You're okay," he said gently. Not a question. A reassurance. "I'll walk you through it. I'm not going to do anything you don't want."

Your gaze flicked past him—up—and then you saw it.

A mirror. Mounted above the headboard. You hadn't noticed it before, not in the haze of arousal and low lighting. But now it was undeniable. You could see yourself. The rise and fall of your chest, the flush across your cheeks, your legs still curled under you, barely covered.

And you could see him, too. Behind you. Watching. Waiting.

"Come here," he said softly, extending a hand. "Stand at the foot of the bed."

You hesitated only a second before pushing up off the mattress and going to him, your feet unsteady beneath you. There was no smirk on his face now, no teasing. Just quiet intent.

He knelt down in front of you, holding the spreader bar in both hands.

"This is a spreader bar," he said, voice still low, almost clinical in its clarity. "It's adjustable. These cuffs go around your ankles—it keeps your legs apart."

Your throat tightened at the image, the implication of it. Your knees wanted to knock together.

He looked up at you again, watching your face closely. "Do you trust me?"

You nodded. It wasn't even a question in your mind. Not really.

"Use your words," he said, almost a whisper.

"Yes," you breathed.

His fingers brushed your calves as he knelt and gently fastened the cuffs around each of your ankles. The leather was cool against your skin, snug but not tight. Then he adjusted the bar, clicking it into place, widening the space between your legs.

Just enough to make you feel exposed. Just enough to make you tremble.

Oh God

You looked down at him—his hands still on your legs, his eyes lifted to meet yours. He stood slowly, the proximity between you electric.

He didn't touch you again. Not yet.

He let you stand there—open, waiting, your breath coming faster—and let the moment stretch. A mirror above you. A box of rope and silk on the bed. His gaze steady on yours like he could see straight through you.

And in that unbearable silence, you realized: he hadn't even started yet.

You were still standing at the foot of the bed, breath catching with each moment, the spreader bar forcing your legs apart just enough to make the air feel colder between your thighs. The room smelled like him—like cologne and something warm and cedar-rich—and you felt that scent wrap around you, heavy and intimate.

Aki stepped closer, holding something small and smooth in his hand. Another toy.

He didn't put it in immediately—just held it out between two fingers, letting you see it. A delicate, curved shape. Subtle slope. Sleek, purple-colored silicone.

"This one's new," he said, voice gentle, like he was offering you something precious. "It's soft. Stays in place. It's not going to hurt—just curl in deep and tease you a little."

You swallowed. He didn't need to be more specific—you could already feel what he meant. You tried to squeeze your thighs together instinctively, but the bar held you open, a frustrated whimper leaving your throat.

He looked down at your legs, satisfied. "Trying to run from me?" he murmured, then tilted your chin up with two fingers. "Can I put it in?"

You nodded. Then, remembering—use your words—you whispered, "Yes, sir."

He knelt again, slow and deliberate, and slipped it into place with practiced care, fingers brushing against you, warm and unhurried. The sensation wasn't overwhelming—yet. Just pressure. Promise – an ease with which it slipped into place.

You exhaled shakily.

Aki stood again and reached for the box. This time, he pulled out a coil of rope—soft to the touch, red, and carefully wrapped. It looked almost like silk in the low light.

"This is body-safe rope," he said. "It shouldn't hurt. And if it does, I want you to tell me immediately. Got it?"

You nodded, your pulse spiking again.

He unraveled it slowly, letting you hear the subtle swish of the fibers slipping between his fingers. Then he stepped behind you, the heat of him ghosting across your back.

"I'm going to tie your hands behind your back," he said. "But first..." He hesitated. "Pick a safeword."

You blinked. "You mentioned that earlier," you said quietly. "What is a safeword? Is it something I say when, like, I want you to stop?"

"That's right," he answered, stepping to the side just enough that you could see his face in the mirror. "Whenever it gets to be too much, or if anything doesn't feel right—you say your safeword, and I stop. No questions. No delay."

You bit your lip, thinking. He waited, patient.

"How about..." You glanced toward the mirror again. "Red light?"

He paused.

"Like a stoplight," you added, cheeks flushed.

Aki huffed a quiet laugh, fond and breathless. "Okay," he said. "Red light it is."

He stepped behind you again, and you felt the brush of the rope against your skin as he guided your wrists behind your back.

"Is this okay?" he asked, voice low in your ear, threading the rope beneath your arms and across your wrists.

"Yes," you whispered.

The fibers glided over your skin, warm and soft and sure. He was methodical—each loop measured, each knot secure but not cruel. The feeling of your wrists bound behind you made your chest tighten with something more than arousal—it was trust, raw and dizzying, as much as it was submission.

He's done this before.

You watched yourself in the mirror: bare, bound, and spread. And behind you—Aki. Focused. Beautiful. In control, but never far from tenderness. His hands – large, precise – and his blue eyes trained carefully on your body, searching for signs of hesitation.

When he finished, he stepped in front of you again, fingers trailing along the tops of your thighs.

"You look incredible," he said, quiet and reverent. "You're doing so well."

And then, he reached down—flicked on the toy.

You gasped, legs buckling slightly against the bar. It was gentle, at first—a steady pulse deep in your cunt, just enough to tease the edges of your sanity.

You couldn't close your legs. Couldn't cover yourself. Couldn't do anything but stand there and take it as he stepped back to admire the way you trembled.

It felt vulnerable – in a way you weren't entirely sure you hated.

"Do you remember the other night?" Aki asked, voice a low drawl in the stillness. "How you behaved in my office?"

Your stomach dropped. Your breath caught before you could answer, your thoughts immediately spiraling back—too tight skirt, too slow steps as you passed his desk, bending over too obviously to pick something up. Flirting with fire because you knew he'd catch it. You knew he always did.

He didn't wait for your reply.

"Wearing that skirt I specifically told you not to wear?"

A slow smirk tugged at your lips despite the heat already rising in your cheeks. "Maybe."

He clicked his tongue, stepping closer—dangerously close—until his shadow curled over your skin. His gaze dropped over your bound body, taking in every inch of you like you were a puzzle he already knew how to pull apart. The mirror caught your expression, your half-teasing smile, but you didn't miss the way your legs trembled, the subtle shiver you tried to suppress.

"Good," he hummed, reaching for something behind him. "Then you'll also recall that you asked me to punish you."

The words knocked the breath out of your chest.

You did.

You heard the sound before you saw it—a gentle swish of air, and then the soft thunk of something hard against his palm. He brought it forward, twirling it between his fingers like something casual.

A leather paddle.

Wide, smooth. Black letter patterned with red hearts. Firm enough that you knew he wasn't bluffing.

"I couldn't do what I wanted in the office," he said. "Too many ears. Too little space. And I had to show up to my meeting somewhat on time, of course."

Of course.

He tilted his head slightly, catching your gaze in the mirror, and his voice turned low and firm.

"But here, there's no one listening. No one to stop me. And you're going to take what you earned."

You squirmed, the anticipation already crawling down your spine. You tugged instinctively at the rope around your wrists—still tight, still binding—and tried to close your legs again. Useless. The spreader bar kept you open, vulnerable.

"Face the mirror," he said. "Back straight."

You obeyed without thinking, without questioning. Heart pounding in your ears as you craned your neck around to look at your disheveled reflection.

He stepped behind you, the paddle brushing teasingly against the bare curve of your ass.

"You're going to thank me after every one," he said. "And I want you to count. If you mess up, I'll start over again."

The paddle lifted.

Your body tensed.

"And you're not going to come. Not until I say you can."

Then the first strike landed.

A clean, sharp slap echoed through the room, and you gasped, legs jolting slightly in the cuffs. The sting was immediate, warmth spreading beneath your skin like fire licking its way into your core.

It was so much worse than his hand – or the riding crop, for that matter. It was flat, covered more area, and it stung.

But, shit, it felt exhilarating.

"O-one," you stammered. "Thank you."

"Thank you, what?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, "Thank you, sir."

"Good girl."

The second was harder—he wasn't holding back. The paddle cracked across the opposite cheek, the sharp sound punching the breath from your lungs.

"Two," you choked. "Thank you, sir..."

He hummed again, satisfied. Walked his fingers slowly down your spine as if to soothe, only to draw away again, cruel in how gentle he could be between blows.

He's so mean.

Each strike stole more of your control, every count tumbling from your lips between shallow breaths and stifled moans. The toy inside you hadn't stopped—its slow, curling rhythm synced with each rise in pain and pleasure until your whole body felt caught in a current you couldn't escape. Pressing right up against that spot so deep inside of you that you couldn't help but drip down your own thighs.

"Eight," you gasped, knees buckling. "T-thank you, sir..."

Aki stepped closer, his chest brushing your back, his voice like velvet against the shell of your ear.

"You're doing so well, Baby" he whispered, thumb tugging on the rope that bound your wrists. "Twitching, though. You close?"

He called me Baby.

You were. Too close. The pulsing toy, the heat in your skin, the tension in your thighs—it all coiled tighter with every breath.

"Aw... you look so pretty, I almost wanna let you cum," he said. "But, see, that's the problem. Brats don't get to cum. They need to earn it."

He dragged the paddle up the inside of your thigh, so slow, so cruel.

"I suppose I can't stop you. I can always just start the count over."

You whimpered.

Because you believed him.

And God help you, you wanted to behave. You wanted to please him. You just weren't sure you could.

What's happening to me?

"Nine," you gasped, breath hitching around the word, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Thank you, sir..."

The sound of your own voice felt distant, thready. Your knees trembled under the weight of sensation, thighs aching, muscles tight and burning from how long you had been holding yourself upright. The toy between your legs continued its slow, relentless pulse, curling heat deep into your belly.

It was too much. It wasn't enough.

Your wrists were bound tight behind you, arms straining slightly against the give of the rope. You were exposed, every part of you laid bare, trembling and flushed and dripping.

And still, he hadn't touched you.

Not really.

He was standing just a few steps away. Calm. Composed. Controlled, the way he always was when he had you like this—strung out and pleading, held up only by the tension in your limbs and the sound of his voice when he spoke.

"One more," Aki uttered, his voice low and even. "You can do one more."

I want to please him.

You shake your head before you even realize it. "Aki," you whisper, "I—I can't—I don't think—"

His footsteps were slow as he approached, a measured, steady sound against the floor. He didn't rush. He never did. He stopped just close enough for you to feel the heat of his body, the way your own ached for his, like your whole being was reaching for him.

"You can," he said softly, almost like he was speaking it into you, willing you to believe it. "You've already come this far."

Tears stung the corners of your eyes. Not because you were in pain, but because you were so close to breaking, and the only thing you wanted was him.

Him, him, him.

"I don't want—" Your voice cracked, catching on the words. "I– Can't take it."

His brows drew together, gently, not out of confusion—but recognition.

"You can. I know you can," he murmured, stepping closer. One of his hands settled at your hip. The other rose, brushing a loose strand of hair from your cheek, his knuckles warm against your skin. "You're not alone. I've got you."

Your heart felt full. Your face was alight with warmth.

What am I feeling right now?

You shuddered at the contact, the gentleness of it breaking something loose inside of you. Your lips parted, and before you even knew what you were saying, it was pouring out of you—unfiltered, needy, raw.

"Aki," you breathe, desperate, aching, "I just want you. Please—please, I need you. I can't—I can't do this without you—"

You make my heart feel weird, The words built up on the back of your tongue – shocking you, forcing your eyes to widen. What's going on?

His hands were on you now, steadying you, holding you upright when your legs threatened to give.

"I got you," he said.

"I need to feel you—just—please, touch me, please—" You weren't even sure what you were begging for anymore. His hands, his mouth, his voice, his presence—you would have taken anything. You just wanted him. Only him.

He exhaled softly, a sound that carried both restraint and affection.

"You've been so good for me," he breathed, gently, firmly. "You've taken everything I've given you."

Your wrists were shaking behind your back. Carefully, Aki undid the knot, unraveled the rope from your arms with slow precision. He didn't rush—he never did. His fingers were gentle, deliberate, like he was undoing something sacred.

The second the rope slipped away, your arms fell forward, weak. You collapsed into the bed, burying your face in his sheets that smelled just like him, just like home, hands curling into the fabric.

He soothed you easily – one arm around your back, the other cupping the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair.

Don't leave me.

"Don't go," you whispered.

Don't ever leave me.

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied. "I've got you."

The toy had long since stopped its humming, but you didn't care anymore.

I need him.

You tilted your head up, searching his face. "Can I... have more?"

Aki studied you curiously. His hand came up to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing just beneath your eye, where a tear had tracked down.

"You want... more?" He asked, seeming thoroughly surprised by your request.

"Yes," you breathe. "Want you."

For the first time that night, something cracked in him. His eyes went darker, softer, deeper. His thumb lingered against your jaw, then dipped down to graze your lips.

"You're insatiable."

You trembled at the words.

His hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease. He lifted you onto the bed—finally, finally—and laid you down like you were something fragile.

But the way he looked at you... hair disheveled, blue eyes peering into yours, chest heaving up and down like a wild animal...

Just sex.

It's just sex.

Nothing more.

He set the toy to the side – again, finally – and you whimpered, not from the loss, but from the anticipation.

"I've got you now," he smiles, pressing a kiss just above your knee. "You can have whatever you want."

Your mouths met in a messy, breathless rush—more instinct than intention, a blur of teeth and lips and too much feeling. He stumbled a little, catching himself on his forearms, laughing softly into the kiss as you both nearly tumbled back.

You laughed too, surprised, lightheaded. For a second, it felt easy. Like maybe this didn't have to be so heavy. Like maybe you could float in the in-between forever.

But then your heart fluttered.

And you knew. You knew how dangerous that was.

You weren't supposed to feel like this.

Even when your hands rose of their own accord — shaking, unsure — and tugged at his shirt, dragging it up and over his head with a sudden burst of urgency, he didn't rush. He didn't make a sound. He just let you.

The sight of him unraveled you further. Pale skin dappled with old scars, lines of healed violence mapped across his ribs, his abdomen, as though his body had collected every storm he'd ever walked through. You reached out before you could think better of it, fingertips skimming the faintest line along his side — one you hadn't noticed before. A scar, thin and jagged, raised ever so slightly.

Your touch paused there.

You didn't ask where it came from. You didn't need to.

He tensed, just slightly, as your thumb brushed it. But he didn't pull away.

The silence was thick, a held breath stretched between heartbeats. You let your hand fall back to the bed, watching him watch you — your chest rising, falling, your lips parted in some half-formed thought you couldn't speak aloud.

Because this wasn't just desire. Not anymore.

It was everything you weren't saying. The things you needed but couldn't admit. The way your chest ached with the simple truth of it: you wanted to be known. Wanted to be seen — and you knew, without him ever saying it, that he did. He saw you. All of you.

And that's what scared you most. You had never let anyone in like that before.

He moved again, this time smoother, more sure. He pressed you into the mattress, hands finding the dip of your waist, your hips, your thighs. His touch was reverent — like he was memorizing you by feel. He looked at you like you were something holy and wrecked at once. Like he wanted to worship and ruin you all in the same breath.

And you wanted it. You wanted him.

Your breath hitched as his weight shifted over you, settling into the space you hadn't realized you'd made for him. He hoisted your legs up onto his hips, and the sensation hit like fire and wind — devastating, electric. A gasp escaped you, unbidden.

He didn't move right away. He just held you there.

The moment stretched — your legs trembling where they rested against him, your palms gripping the sheets in desperation you couldn't name. There was something terrifying in how still he was.

Maybe all of this — the tension, the ache, the way your body answered his so willingly — was just a way of saying what you didn't have the words for.

That you wanted him.

That you'd always wanted him.

That you didn't know where this ended, and for once, you didn't care.

"You're not gonna take 'em off?" You teased, nodding towards your black panties.

He quirked a brow, "And ruin this pretty outfit you put on just for me? That would be a crime."

So, rolling your eyes – with no real amount of venom – you gripped the zipper on his slacks, rolling it down slowly, tentatively. "That's a shame, because I plan on taking these off."

And, a little breathlessly, a little flushed – he let you. He let you unzip his pants, cobalt gaze tracing your fingers as they undid his belt, grabbed the waistband of his pants and pulled them down. There, before your hungry gaze, his boxers were strained with the pressure from his erection. You took a moment to admire him, admire the way the thick bulge stood out against the fabric – the way it was tinted darker where he had leaked a bit of precum.

"What's the matter, Baby?" He teased, "You need something?"

Baby.

Your eyes flitted up to him. Then, wordlessly, you reached for the elastic waistband, slipping your fingers beneath and tugging them down – just enough to free his cock from its constraints. The damn thing nearly hit you in the face when it sprung free, pink tip glistening the way a blade of grass held dew in the morning.

And you couldn't help the way your body reacted. No, you couldn't help it when you wrapped your hands around him, or when you licked your lips. And you certainly couldn't help it when you leaned forward – keeping his gaze the entire time – and wrapped your lips around the flushed head, sucking him into your mouth with a satisfied hum. The bead of precum melted onto your tongue like butter, salty and real.

Instinctively, perhaps, his hand went for the back of your head – fingers tangling themselves into your hair, gripping you by the base. Gently, of course, but just enough for it to sting.

The pain balances the pleasure.

"That's it, pretty," He groaned – low and relieved, like he had been aching for you all night. "Get it nice and wet," Above you, his head rolled back. Below, you hollowed your cheeks, pushing him a little deeper into your throat. "Fuck, just like that."

Call me a good girl.

Tell me I'm a good girl.

You moved, back, then forth – going a little deeper each time. Your saliva did a great job at getting him wet. In fact, as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked on him once more, you could hear it – hear how wet you had gotten him every single time he met the back of your tongue, your throat.

"Shit," He huffed out.

And the word only motivated you to suck him in harder, faster. You had long since forgotten your goal of teasing him. No, now all that remained was the desire to please, the desire to make him feel good.

The desire to be good for him.

"Your mouth feels so good," He purred, guiding your head while simultaneously allowing you to set your own pace. "Deeper, Baby, just like that."

You felt that fire in your core reignite, making you press your legs together while you pulled back for a moment to slurp on the tip, spit dripping down his shaft. You tilted your head to the side, wrapping your hands around what you couldn't fit into your mouth to work the rest of him.

As you braced your hands on his hips to sink your head the rest of the way down, you met some resistance, eyes watering as you felt yourself gag on him.

What? He was big.

Above you, the muscles in Aki's arm tensed. With a blissful sigh, he leaned his head back. He ran a hand over his hair and down his face, lashes fluttering shut. He was so fucking pretty, it made your heart skip a beat.

That's normal. Totally normal.

His chest rose and fell steadily. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, which parted soon after to release a trembling sigh of your name.

Then his hand fisted itself tighter in your hair, and you moaned – really moaned, none of that fake shit. You never would have guessed that you were into hair pulling, but... well, here you were.

Just when you went back for more of him, he tugged you off. His dick sprang free with an uncharacteristically funny pop.

You knitted your brows, peering up at him through lust-ridden eyes. "W'happened?" You asked, still a little breathless.

"If you keep going the way you're going–" He panted, catching his breath softly, gently. "I'm not–" He paused again. "I feel like... if I can't be inside of you, I'm gonna go fucking crazy."

Well, shit.

Deciding that you couldn't have agreed more, you climbed back on the bed – back, back, until your head hit the headboard. His eyes trailed you the entire way, not at all unlike the way a cat's eyes might have trailed its prey. Then, when you parted your legs slowly, savoring his reaction, his eyes darkened, pupils dilating at the mere sight of you.

He climbed back onto the bed with you. His lips met yours in the middle – but only briefly before he was kicking his boxers off somewhere to the side and pressing himself right up against you.

Right where you needed him.

He teased the head over your heat – hand gripping the base while the tip smeared an obscene mixture of your spit and his precum over your needy pussy. You jumped when he brushed up against your clit, back arching up off of the bed.

And, of course, cruel man that he was – he smirked, rubbing your clit back and forth, back and forth with his dick. It was as if he couldn't have cared less about how dirty it was. And you could do nothing but mewl, cry out, arch... rut your hips down to chase more of that sweet, sweet stimulation.

When you decided you'd had enough, you reached down between your body and his. His gaze flicked up from the place where the two of you met for a moment – just briefly enough to catch your eyes as you steered the head of his dick down against your dripping cunt.

And, when it caught on your entrance, the head slipped in with ease. (You had been teased all night, after all). The two of you released a similar sound, gasping in perfect tandem with one another as he finally breached the surface.

Then, he was sliding in the rest of the way, and fuck, the stretch felt good.

Your hands flew up to his back, fingernails digging into the muscular planes of his shoulder blades. He slid out a little bit – only slightly, like he couldn't bear the thought of not being inside of you – and then back in. Out, then in.

The slow tenderness wasn't something you were used to. In fact, your pussy was clenching down on him already, heat boiling up in your stomach at a rapid pace because you had been waiting all night for him to fuck you like this.

He rolled his hips down, back, down again – and then something wildly embarrassing happened.

You came. You came with a warning cry of his name, legs twitching around his waist. You came, spilling arousal onto his dick and his bed. You came only a few thrusts in.

The world seemed to tip on its axis as you came down from your high. Through it all, he kept you pinned down, eyes boring into yours like watching you fall apart all over him was his favorite pastime.

And, then, he laughed. It was a little breathless, a little impressed, but a laugh nonetheless. "You missed me that much?"

Kill me now.

You covered your face with your arm, slapping him on the chest. "Fuck you."

"If you say so," He grinned – you decided that you loved his smile.

And then he was moving again.

Not hurried. Not careless. Just slow — so unbearably slow — pulling back like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Like he felt the ache coiled beneath your skin, the anticipation building, rising, threatening to spill over.

Your body tensed before you even realized it, back arching, a silent plea written in every trembling inch of you. And he answered — with pressure, with presence, with that rhythm only he could find. He returned to you all at once, all heat and weight and tension, and you met him there, instinctively, helplessly, grounding yourself in the friction where your bodies aligned and moved and pressed together.

It wasn't frantic. It wasn't rushed.

It was tender.

It was the kind of closeness that blurred the lines between pain and need, between comfort and desperation. His breath ghosted against your cheek, your shoulder, your throat. Every part of you lit up where he touched — and where he didn't.

You couldn't separate yourself from him anymore — not in this moment, not in this movement, not with the way your hips rose to meet his. Not with the way your fingers curled into his shoulders like you needed to hold onto something, anything, just to stay grounded.

Because it was too much – and it still wasn't enough.

The world narrowed to this: the press of him, the tension winding tighter, the heat pooling deep in your belly as your body moved in sync with his, again and again. Like a language only the two of you knew. Like breathing.

Like wanting. Like need.

He felt like too much, all at once.

His weight over you, his breath against your skin, his hands clutching your hips like he couldn't get close enough—you couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't stop. Your bodies moved in frantic rhythm, messy and hungry and loud. Skin slapped. Your spine arched. Your thighs trembled where he held you, kept you, pinned you down like you were something he needed to ruin while he fucked you past the point of hypersensitivity.

And maybe that was what you wanted. Maybe you wanted to be undone, to have something else tear you apart so you wouldn't have to deal with the noise building behind your ribs. It was easier to focus on the pull of his body, on the rough, perfect friction, on the sound of him groaning under his breath when you moved just right.

It was easier to pretend that was all this was.

Because anything more—anything deeper—felt too dangerous to name.

You clung to his shoulders, nails biting in, eyes fluttering shut as he drove into you harder, again and again, like he couldn't get enough. He felt so good it was almost unbearable, like pleasure was too thin a word for it, too neat.

No, he was fucking the shit out of you.

But your body betrayed you. The way you gasped his name was a dead giveaway. The way your arms wrapped tighter around him.

I wish I could keep him here forever.

Buried inside of me.

You shook the thought out of your head.

It didn't mean anything. He didn't mean anything. It was just the heat. The urgency. The way he made your nerves light up and your stomach twist in on itself.

He shifted his weight and grabbed your thigh again, rough this time, pulling your leg up and over his hip in one practiced motion. You gasped—sharp and startled—as he sank deeper, pressed closer, sweat slipping between your skin and his.

"Aki, fuck," You cried out.

It felt so good. God, it felt right. And that's what scared you the most.

Because it shouldn't. It wasn't supposed to.

This was supposed to be simple. Just release. Just bodies. Just a way to burn off the ache.

So why did your chest ache?

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to block it all out – the thoughts, the tightness in your throat, the strange warmth curling in your belly that had nothing to do with his touch – and just focus on him. You could hear the rush of his breath, the rasp in his throat, feel the way his muscles tensed under your fingertips. It made you dizzy, made you want to dig in deeper, to hold him there and never let go.

But no. You wouldn't go there. You couldn't.

Because the second you thought about what this might mean, what it might become—you'd lose control completely.

And he wasn't looking at you like someone who was seeing you. Not really. He was looking like he always did: focused, sharp, lost in the moment. Not in you. Not in what this was doing to you inside.

So you matched his rhythm. You moved with him, against him, chasing sensation, grounding yourself in it. Anything to drown out the noise in your chest. Anything to ignore the unfamiliar tightness wrapping itself around your ribs like a question you didn't want to answer.

"You take me so well, pretty," He commented.

Your head fell back. He followed, pressing in deeper, his hand splaying against your thigh like he owned it. You let him. You wanted him to. Because if he touched you like that—rough and hungry and full of intent—maybe it would mean you didn't need anything else.

Maybe you could pretend that was enough.

But even now, tangled together, breathless and shaking, some part of you whispered that it wasn't.

Still, you didn't let yourself listen.

You just held on tighter. Let your nails drag across his spine. Let your body move in time with his, fast and reckless, until all that existed was this—the blur, the heat, the tension stretched thin between your lungs every single time he fucked into you.

You couldn't think.

Not clearly.

Not with him buried up to the hilt in your tender pussy.

Everything had bled into sensation — too much and not enough all at once. The drag of his hands down your sides. The weight of his body over yours. The sharp snap of his hips against yours that made your back arch, made your vision spark at the edges, made you cling to him like you'd fall apart if you didn't.

You didn't mean to be this far gone.

But he was relentless.

And now you were just feeling — mouth parted, breath caught somewhere in your throat, pulse beating fast beneath your skin. You felt yourself spiraling, unraveling, losing track of where your body ended and his began. Every inch of you was taut and burning. Everything about him — the sound of his breath, the strength in his grip, the way he moved with precision like he knew what you needed before you even said it — it overwhelmed you.

It was raw. It was animalistic.

You couldn't hide how much you wanted it.

Worse: you couldn't hide how much you wanted him.

He pressed his forehead to yours for a second — brief, heavy — before shifting his angle again, and the noise you made at the sudden change was nearly a sob. You reached for his back, nails raking over damp skin, trying to ground yourself in something. But nothing grounded you. You were weightless, untethered.

It was just pleasure, you told yourself. That was all.

It had to be.

But then you looked at him — really looked — and the ground tilted under you.

His eyes were locked on your face, not your body. And he looked ruined in a way you hadn't seen before — jaw slack, brow furrowed, hair sticking to his temples, like all of his focus was in this. On you. He wasn't talking. He never did during moments like this. But there was something in his silence that made it worse — made the tension snap even tighter in your chest.

"Oh god," You breathed out, like it was a prayer. Like he were some divine entity and you a devout follower.

A sound caught in your throat. A broken gasp. You didn't even recognize your own voice anymore. Every moan, every breath, it all felt like something you weren't controlling. Just responding.

God, he was everywhere.

His hands gripped your thighs and pulled you in closer, hoisting your legs high around his hips, and you felt him sink deeper — all the way in — and everything inside you locked tight around it. You cried out. Clung to him like you were drowning.

The worst part wasn't the desperation.

It was that you didn't want it to stop.

You weren't thinking of after. You weren't thinking of the mess or the confusion or the fact that, when he walked out that door, you'd be left with nothing but the memory of how close he'd made you feel.

You were thinking about the way his eyes flicked to your mouth when you gasped.

The way he held you like you were something he wanted to touch, not just something he needed to use.

The way your body burned for him — not just with want, but with something you didn't have a name for.

You tilted your head back into the pillows and shut your eyes, trying to focus on the rhythm, on the pace. He gave you no time to catch your breath — kept driving into you, deep and sharp and perfect, like he knew you were right at the edge and wanted to hold you there, stretch it out.

"Fuck me!" You pleaded with him. "God, Aki– fuck– don't stop!"

You needed more.

"Aki—" His name slipped out again before you could stop it, broken and hoarse and filled with too many things you didn't want to unpack.

He grunted — just once — like the sound of it meant something to him. Like he liked hearing it from you.

And your stomach turned again.

Not in discomfort.

But in that way that told you you were spiraling toward something you couldn't undo.

He leaned over you more, mouth brushing your jaw, and the way he was panting — hard, wild, desperate — almost made you forget he was the one in control. That he always was. You could feel it in the tremble of his arms, the way his hips faltered just once, just barely at the sound of your voice.

It made you feel powerful and helpless all at once.

"Keep saying my name like that," He begged you. Commanded you.

You clutched at his hair. Pressed your face into his neck. Tried to disappear into his body, into the moment, into anything but your own thoughts.

Because something inside you was starting to crack.

Not from the heat. Not from the building pressure.

But from how right it felt.

It was just sex. Contractual. It wasn't supposed to feel like being wanted. It wasn't supposed to feel like a connection.

You weren't supposed to care.

But your chest was tight. Your hands were shaking. Your breath was caught somewhere between a sob and a moan and your body was begging for release, for him, for something you couldn't even name.

What the fuck?

His pace quickened, erratic now — like even he was on the verge of losing it — and you whispered something against his skin that you couldn't even hear.

"Close–" You exhaled shakily, digging your nails into his back so hard that you knew you would leave marks. "Don't stop– Aki, Baby–"

You didn't mean to say his name again.

You didn't mean to sound so needy.

But everything about this was out of your hands now. Out of control.

You were burning. Blinding. Drenched in heat and confusion.

You were unraveling.

Every breath came fast and uneven, your body stretched so taut it felt like even the smallest push would break you open. Aki moved with a focused intensity, deliberate and unrelenting, like he knew exactly how close you were—like he could feel the way your body clung to him, how you trembled under every thrust, every shift of his weight against yours.

You gripped at him blindly, hands slipping up his back, over his shoulders, fingers pressing into sweat-damp skin like you were trying to memorize him by touch alone.

He's so beautiful.

You couldn't think. You couldn't speak. You could barely breathe.

But feeling—you felt everything.

Every inch of him. Every sound he made. Every glance he gave you between half-lidded blinks, his brows furrowed like he was trying not to lose himself too soon. Like he needed you to stay with him through every second of it.

It should've been just your body reacting.

Just nerve endings firing, just heat and friction and the way he filled you so completely that you forgot how to hold yourself together.

But it wasn't.

It wasn't just that.

You looked up—just for a moment, just to see his face—and the sight of him, undone and gorgeous, looking down at you like you were the only thing in the world—

That was when it hit you.

It was like being slammed in the chest with a truth you didn't want to see. Your breath caught. Your heart stuttered beneath the pressure of it.

You wanted him.

Not just like this. Not just the physicality of him or the way he made you feel like you were burning alive.

You wanted him. The person. The man. The quiet steadiness, the rare softness, the way he touched you like you meant something even when he didn't say it out loud.

"Fuck– 'M gonna cum–" Your legs trembled around his waist, eyes fluttering shut. "Akiiii– Oh, God."

You'd been trying not to name it. You'd buried it under desire, under the illusion that this was just about chemistry, just about two people using each other to escape.

But it wasn't. Not anymore.

Not when he looked at you like that.

Not when your body was seconds away from shattering around him and all you could think was I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose him.

"Aki–" You breathed.

He replied back like he meant it, "I got you, Baby."

The sensation built inside you, unbearable in its intensity. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to hold it back, to keep some piece of yourself from slipping out along with it.

But it was no use.

Your body was already tipping, pushed past the point of no return.

And this time, when the pleasure surged through you—hot and sharp and consuming—you didn't fight it. You didn't hide from it. You let it take you.

You came for the second time that night, crying out for him as you did so – colors and shapes dancing behind your eyelids. You gripped him like a vice, like you would die if you let go.

He wasn't far behind you – hips staggering only a few more thrusts later. When he tumbled over the edge after you, he buried himself as deep as he could go, nestling his head into the crook of your neck, brows furrowed. He came with the prettiest sigh of your name – the syllables tumbling off his lips like they were meant to be there. Like you were the only name that had ever been there. And when the warmth came – an explosion like fireworks deep inside of you – you arched up into him one final time, wrapping your arms around him and cradling his head to your chest. It was something so intimate– so off-limits.

Sexual intimacy? Easy. But having him pressed up against your chest, back rising and falling with the weight of his breaths... that was something else entirely.

The heat between you both hadn't faded. In fact, it lingered, curling around your skin like a soft burn, more familiar now than the fire that had taken over you earlier. Every breath you took, every small movement of his body against yours, sent waves of warmth flooding through you.

His chest rose and fell against yours, slow and steady, but you could feel the slight tremor that still lingered in his muscles, in the way he gripped you, as though you might slip away from him. You didn't want to slip away. Not from him. Not now.

You let your fingers trail over the lines of his back, tracing them absentmindedly, though you could feel the weight of it pressing into your chest. The tenderness of the moment felt like it was seeping into you, something quiet and unexpected. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that had preceded it, yet it felt so much deeper.

It didn't come all at once. It wasn't some sudden revelation, but more like something deep within you slowly unfurling, pushing itself out into the light.

His fingers lightly brushed the side of your face, gently guiding you to look up at him. You couldn't avoid the look in his eyes—the raw, unguarded tenderness there, the way his gaze softened the edges of the world around you. It wasn't just affection, not just care, but something deeper. Something that made your heart beat erratically, something that you couldn't hide from, no matter how hard you tried.

"You okay?" he whispered, voice barely above a breath.

You could only nod as you held onto him, wrapped your arms around him as though he were the anchor in a storm, trying to ground yourself in the moment

And as you did, that terrible, rotten truth bloomed fully in your chest.

You were catching feelings.

The bed felt too empty when you woke, a coldness that you hadn't expected wrapping around you. The comfort of his touch, the weight of his body against yours, had faded like a dream. You didn't want to move. Didn't want to acknowledge that you were alone again.

But the absence of him—his warmth, his presence, the steady rhythm of his breath beside you—was undeniable. And in that moment, the pull of loneliness, sharp and raw, snaked its way into your chest. It felt different than the quiet isolation you were used to.

You ran your fingers through your hair, your skin still flush with the remnants of him, and with a reluctant sigh, you rose from the bed. The silence in the room was almost suffocating, pressing down on you like a weight you couldn't shake off. Above all else, you were dressed in one of Aki's sweaters. Nothing else.

The air was cool against your bare legs as you moved toward the window. The quiet outside seemed to mirror the stillness inside you, and the moment your eyes landed on him—leaning against the balcony railing, cigarette between his fingers—you felt that same pull.

You hadn't meant to look, hadn't meant to stand there, watching him like that. But there he was, his back lit by the dim glow of the streetlights below, the faint haze of cigarette smoke curling in the air around him. The darkness seemed to swallow him whole, yet he stood there.

You hadn't expected to find him like this. But here he was, alone, like he didn't quite belong in the world around him.

The door creaked as you stepped outside. He hadn't noticed you yet, lost in the quiet world he had made for himself on the balcony. You hesitated, uncertain of what you even wanted. To speak? To retreat? You couldn't tell. The pull was too strong, though, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped further into the night, closer to him.

Even though you knew you shouldn't.

The soft scrape of your feet against the ground was the only sound between you, and Aki turned slowly, his gaze meeting yours. It wasn't an angry gaze, or even a surprised one—just quiet, a little weary, and with something you couldn't quite place.

"Did I wake you?" His voice was low, but it had a softness to it that caught you off guard. It was just a question, simple and harmless, but you felt the weight of it settle over you, heavy and almost intimate.

"No," you said, shaking your head. You weren't sure why you felt the need to lie. But it was more than that. You didn't want him to know. The vulnerability of the moment, the strange way your chest felt so full and yet so hollow, was something you wanted to hide.

He nodded, taking another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something in the quiet between you that made everything feel fragile, like the air itself might shatter if either of you said too much.

The night was cool, the stars hidden behind the haze of city lights. You stepped closer, but even then, there was a distance between you. Not a physical one, but an emotional divide you couldn't cross. You felt it pulling at you, making every movement feel like a decision.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you," you began, your voice faltering slightly. You didn't know what you wanted to say. You didn't even know why you were standing there. But the question hung in the air, and the tension between you two only grew.

Aki's eyes softened slightly, his lips pulling into a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's fine. You're not interrupting anything," he said, his voice a little lighter. But there was something heavier in his tone now, something that wasn't there before.

Does he... feel it too?

No, you corrected yourself. Don't be an idiot.

For a moment, you both stood there, the cigarette smoke lingering between you like an unspoken barrier. His gaze never wavered, but it wasn't the usual guarded look. There was a softness to it, something open, but only barely. And that, more than anything, made you feel more vulnerable than you ever had before.

"So... you gonna tell me where you sent Denji and Power off to for the night?" You teased, elbowing him before leaning over the balcony. "Or are you gonna keep pretending they just so happened to be out for the night?"

The ghost of a grin lingered on his lips. He looked so pretty beneath the moonlight that – for a moment – you wondered if this was all even real.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He replied.

"Bullshit," You jabbed back. "Not like they have friends."

With a sigh, he tapped the end of his cigarette, casting his gaze onto the empty streets below, flicking ash off of the end of it. "Alright. I might have sent them to Himeno's."

The answer should've been funny. It should've made you roll your eyes and laugh and call him out for how goddamn obvious he was. But the words just sort of sat there between you, too heavy to move.

You nodded, lips pressing into a thin line. "Why?"

A beat passed. Two.

"I told her I needed a break," he said finally. His voice didn't waver, but it wasn't guarded either. Just honest. "But, to be honest, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you the moment I pictured you in that dress."

You didn't know what to say to that.

Your brain was still buzzing. Your body ached in places you didn't want to think about. You could feel the remnants of everything—the closeness, the heat, the way he'd touched you like he meant it. And it should've been simple. You'd done this before. You knew how to compartmentalize.

So why didn't this feel like all the other times?

You reached for a distraction.

"I should probably head home," you murmured, arms tightening across your chest. "While I can still catch a taxi."

You didn't move.

Aki turned his head just slightly. "It's late. Just stay the night."

Oh. Okay.

Your throat closed up for a second, because the way he said it wasn't casual. Not really. Not cold either. Just quiet. Just like him.

You should've said no. You knew that. Knew you'd already crossed a line somewhere in the dark, maybe back in his bedroom or maybe before that—maybe when he looked at you across the table earlier tonight and you'd caught yourself smiling like a damn idiot. Somewhere in all of this, the rules had changed, and you didn't remember agreeing to it.

But you stayed.

Fuck, you always did.

So you just gave a small nod, barely visible, and leaned back against the railing beside him.

It was quiet again. The kind of quiet that felt like it should've been peaceful, but instead it settled in your chest like static—like the edge of something unsaid scratching at your ribs.

You didn't know what any of this meant.

You didn't know what he meant.

Aki wasn't looking at you, but you could feel him anyway. The space between you was loaded. Not tense, but not easy either. It was just... too much. All of it. The way he touched you. The way he looked at you.

It was messing with your head.

You weren't supposed to care like this. You weren't supposed to look at him and feel your stomach twist like that. You weren't supposed to want more. Hell, you weren't even sure what "more" looked like. But you knew what it felt like—this pull in your chest, this ache just under your skin.

You closed your eyes for a moment and tried to breathe past it.

And when you opened them again, he was looking at you.

Not with the flat, impassive stare he gave everyone else. Not with the vague irritation he usually wore around Denji and Power. No, this was something else.

He looked at you like you were a puzzle he didn't want to solve. Like he didn't want to break whatever fragile thing was happening here.

And, shit, neither did you.

So you didn't say anything.

You just leaned in, hesitant and slow, until your shoulder brushed his. And then, after a long pause where neither of you breathed, you let your head tip gently against him.

He didn't move.

Didn't flinch. Didn't pull away.

And you didn't know what the hell that meant either.

All you knew was that the words "I'm falling for you" were sitting on the edge of your tongue, heavy and stupid and dangerous.

You didn't say them.

Not because they weren't true, but because you weren't ready to give this – whatever this was – up.

You decided you would do whatever it took to keep him next to you like this, his scent surrounding you, hand tracing shapes on your arm. You would do whatever it took to keep this train chugging, keep him looking at you like that, even if it meant lying to yourself a little along the way.

You looked up at him, into those pretty blues of his, like he could be so much more than what he was – like you and him could actually amount to something. And, maybe it was the lighting, but you could have sworn he looked back at you with the same glint in his eyes.

No harm in catching feelings if I keep them tucked away, right?

a/n: im sorry yall. things were going too good. it had to be done lol. (lmk what yall thought in the comments thooooo, maybe even what yall THINK will happen lol ;P see u in the next one mloves! wish me luck on exams)

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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[himezoro]

roronoa zoro's guide to relationship (smut)

tysm everyone for your love and support on the previous post ! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i'm so sorry for how long this other post was to come, but work has been pretty exhausting and as you may know, i'm a lawyer so when it comes to having free time it gets hard lmao this one was requested by @jinjen, i hope they'll like it ! <3

i'm also working on a "one shot" smut for roronoa zoro that i've had in mind for so long, i hope you'll like it!!

minors dni !! 18+ only.

here's a headcanon of what a relationship with roronoa zoro would include sexually. i had a female partner in mind when writting which is why it's pretty gender based !

wc : 860

even before being in a relationship with roronoa zoro, the sexual tension between his s/o and himself was beyond compare ; his hair would bristle when he heard their voice, when their hands would touch at dinner, when they just entered the room. the tension between them is so high it gets hard to breathe. his eyes would linger on their figure like those of a ruthless predator ready to pounce onto their prey. the sway of their hips, the flips of their hair, the bites of their lips, the look of their doe eyes. everything sets him on.

it became a game for the two of them to play with that said tension before getting official. he's a tease after all. but afterwards? hell, there's just no rules. everything's allowed. from their s/o sensually touching his thigh under the table and tracing the shape of his growing erection when everyone's eating to him whispering the dirtiest things into his s/o's ear when they're just sitting reading in the middle of the kitchen with sanji close by. "how 'bout we give that shitty cook a show of how exquisite ya' juices taste ?" "i bet i can make ya squirt before ya reach the bottom of that stupid page baby.". it's all competition, and it's about who's going to resist the urge to cut the tension.

zoro would easily cut it before they do. hell, he's got three swords ffs.

he's always horny for his partner.

aside from this game, zoro can go from being a slow and passionate lover to a ruthless beast. going from "i wanna make love to you" to "i'm gonna fuck you until your brain goes dumb".

when he's in the mood for passionate sex, zoro would take his time to kiss his s/o endlessly. having them onto their lap, grinding slowly but surely, his hand at the back of their neck in a loving yet firm way. he would whisper sweet nothings he won't say in any other circumstances "you're so goddamn pretty", "i want this body on me forever", "i wanna make ya feel good", "let me please you", "i love you".

during those intimate and slow times, his giant figure would be afraid to break you. his cock would pound into their s/o painfully slowly, missionary style, so he can watch them take him so gracefully. he would leave trails of hickeys all over their chest while firmly holding their hands, moving his hips to the rhythm of their racing heartbeats.

he knows their body like his three swords.

would lick and finger your pussy like there's no tomorrow, until your legs shake while praising you so bad. he would lick all of your fluid and even lick his lips before kissing you to "give ya a taste".

he loves it when his s/o praises him, saying how good he's making them feel, or simply hearing his name in between their moans. he feels like he's the strongest in the world.

but the second zoro feels jealous or "dominant" (which would be more appropriate since he feels pretty confident in his ability to please you), oh boy. be ready for a ride.

he would pin their s/o to the nearest surface. anything remotely close : the floor ? check. the dinner table ? check. the desk in your room ? double check. the wall to the shower ? triple check that one. he would grab their face with his right hand, kissing them hard, watching the trails of saliva connecting them with complete lust before diving back into a sloppy yet quite nice kiss, while playing with his s/o's clothed pussy under their dress with his left hand.

if this makeout session came after a meaningless fight (angry sex), he would spin them hard so their ass was pinned to his clothed erection and smack it hard. "gonna be a good girl now or shall i smack some senses outta ya ?" he can be mean during those sessions, but when he would make up for it later.

he would make them suck his giant cock until he hears them gag, saying "ya can take it. look at me while you swallow it all." he loves receiving a blowjob from their partner, seeing his cock disappear into the depth of their throat.

he's so ridiculously strong. he'll have their s/o fucked in every position. makes them cum so many times his s/o loses count, but not him. he's competitive and keeps his record in check. his stamina is pretty solid too.

even in these times, he cannot help but praise their s/o. "your pussy's squeezing me whole", "you're taking my cock so well, looks like it's made for it".

loves shower/bath sex where he can have fun with his partner at the same time.

sleepy morning sex as well <3

in the end, sex remains a matter of trust and intimacy, so no matter how, be sure to know that afterwards, this boy would not let go of you and ask for a back rub just to keep the intimacy going.

would hate it if someone dared interrupting his peace during aftercare (which can happen since luffy and usopp are always going crazy).

[ghostfanwriter]

✨🍑 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 🍑✨

🍑 Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

✨ Synopsis: You catch Joel looking at a dress while on run for supplies, so you decide to bring it home... And torture him with it at a Jackson party.

🍑 Features: 🔞 Pre established relationship, possessive Joel, teasing, edging, Joel spiting in reader's mouth (🫥), real quick feet action, rough unprotected piv, oral sex (f and m receiving), Joel being insecure and soft at the end.

✨ Word count: Around 7k

🍑 About this: The Jackson couple's back! This time I wanted to touch more on their dynamics and how they work outside the bedroom. But everything builds to some possessive sex with a very possessive Joel.

✨ Author's Note: I've had this drafted for months now, and it finally matured enough to be yours 🩷

Good reading ✨🍑

You were on a run for supplies and winter clothes with Joel and a few others from Jackson. The two of you found this fancy women's clothes store and were grabbing everything that felt nice and warm. Besides, you thought of looking for nice dresses for women to wear on your solstice party, that would celebrate the end of summer and all the resources you got from it.

Joel said it was okay with him as long as you carried the bag full of dresses back home.

You finished looking around and went after Joel, who you found holding a dress in front of himself, just looking at it. His brain forming the perfect image of how your body would look in it.

He knew every line and every curve you had, having touched, bitten, kissed and squeezed you enough times to have them memorized. He thought about how life would be if things didn't go to shit.

Taking you to a party, wearing nice clothes and just drinking and having fun. He was lost in his fantasy when someone called everyone out, it was getting late and it would be dark soon. He yelled back and put the dress back where he found it, turning his head to look for you, calling you by your name.

You hide and as soon as he leaves that corner of the store you run to it and grab the dress, putting it inside your backpack and running back to the other side of the store, emerging from the clothes racks for him to find you.

"Hey, I'm here." You say. He looks at you and smiles.

"C'mon, baby, gotta go." You walk towards him and hold his hands, snuggling to his side as you walk out the store to find the others and go back home.

When he saw you struggling with its weight, Joel insisted he'd carry the bag with the dresses for you.

"Holy fucking shit!" Ellie almost screams when you walk out the bathroom. You look at her and her eyes are wide, mouth open and a ever so light blush on her cheeks. Dina turns to look at you and her face looks exactly like Ellie's, but she's also laughing.

"Oh, someone's definitely gonna fucking die tonight. Either Joel will fall dead when he sees you or he's going to kill every man that looks at you."

You laugh. You only truly saw the dress when you picked it up from your backpack to wash it over at Ellie and Dina's. You didn't want Joel seeing it and ruining the surprise.

The dress is tight and long, but has a slit on one of the legs that goes all the way to your thigh, almost to your hips. It hugs your body perfectly and you can't wait to see his face.

Winter was soon to arrive and for a good while you'll not bare to wear any less than three layers of clothes, so you wanted to enjoy your last chance to look good on something.

Joel was out working all day, and by the end of the afternoon he went home to shower.

He smiled when he found the clothes you left him perfectly laid out on top of your bed, with a perfume you got him a while back.

He was hoping to find you home, but he loved that you took your time to prepare this for him. He got ready and went straight to where the party was gonna happen to help hang lights, fix a few things and be his hot contractor self.

You were gonna meet him with Ellie and Dina, who were also dressed up on some nicer button up shirts and jeans they've found.

On the way from their house to the party, you got compliments all around, men and women turning heads to look at you. You were happy to see all the women in dresses and nice clothes. It was a privilege you had in Jackson, to dress up and have fun, and you were glad everyone was having a good time.

For just one night it was good to forget the world had ended.

You start looking for Joel as soon as you arrive at the party. Scanning the place, you find him drinking and laughing amongst a few men. It's funny how anyone around him looks blurry to you. As soon as you see your man, there's nothing else that could get your attention.

Nothing else matters.

He looks so good, so big, so strong. His wide shoulders, big frame, strong chest and stomach, his legs, spread and inviting, making you want to sit on him. His arms, showing through the flannel he's wearing, his big hand making an already tiny shot glass look even smaller.

One of the men with him locks eyes on you and Joel curiously follows his gaze.

When his eyes land on you his expression thickens immediately. He looks at you up and down, stopping at your face. Your smile disarming him completely. He puts his glass down and gets up, heavily walking towards you with a smile on his face. You open your arms, squeezing him tight when he hugs you, engulfing you in his arms.

"Missed you" You said, because spending the day away felt like an eternity.

"Thought about you all day, peach. Couldn't wait to see you." He said on your neck.

You pull away, he holds you by the waist and you keep your fingers interlaced behind his back, giving him a quick but firm kiss on the lips. "Look as good as you thought?" You ask and his face reddens — he didn't think you saw him with the dress that day. "Can't hide from you, can I?"

"Nuh-uh." You say, shaking your head and giggling.

"You look even better than I thought, amor." He kisses your cheek, a low and effective move he knows to make you melt in his hands.

"You look really good too." You praise him and he looks down at himself, wearing the outfit you sorted for him, a nice button up flannel and a new pair of jeans. A stark contrast from the worn out clothes he wears everyday. "Have to look good when I have you like this by my side, baby. Or the others will see you're too good for me and try and take you away from me."

You shoot him a stern look through your lashes and dig your nails on his back. He gets it and laughs. "Alright, no saying stuff like that about myself. Got it."

"Well, let it be known, Joel Miller, that I wouldn't leave this party with anyone else but you." You say, getting on your tiptoes to give him another quick peck on the lips.

"C'mon, stop being so fucking gay you two." Ellie teases, bringing you a drink and calling you to come hang out with your friends. "Good to see you too, Ellie." Joel says, reluctantly letting you go and watching you walk away.

It had been a long time since you've had this much fun. Hanging out with your friends, sitting on Joel's lap and listening to the stories everyone had to tell.

You laughed, drank and spent time with people you cherished.

But it didn't take long for Joel to get overwhelmed by the attention you were getting.

As soon as you started greeting people and walking around, he noticed the way people looked and touched you for even just a second too long.

This one guy approached you by the drinks table and kept talking to you. Joel doing his best to focus on his food and not break his own teeth with the force he was chewing it down.

He looked at you, young and pretty. Your dress hugging your body so nicely, your hair falling effortlessly over your shoulders, a big smile on your face.

People just couldn't look only once.

And it made him feral.

They all turned to shoot you a second look, almost as if trying to make sure they were actually seeing you. Like you were a mirage.

He couldn't blame them, though. He knew that feeling all too well. To not believe his eyes when looking at you; he felt the same when you first slept together.

He was frozen, sitting on the edge of his bed watching you undress, bringing you close to him and kissing your body, to make sure everything he was seeing was actually there, in front of him.

And he mesmerized you the same way, even today, watching him work from a distance. Your mind wandering thinking about the man, as if you've never been with him. Picturing his strong arms holding you, making you feel safe.

Whenever something broke on your house you always offered to help him fix it. Not just to be useful — even though you knew very little about fixing things, he was slowly teaching you what he knew —, but also to watch him. His muscles flexing, his hair getting messy, the thin layer of sweat that slowly covered his skin, his each time more laborious breathing.

You couldn't help but eat the man with your eyes.

You feel good knowing that amongst all the women in Jackson, you were lucky enough to be by his side.

Your chest almost aching from imagining if he were someone else's. Making you do your best to show him how much you wanted and loved him.

How much you loved when he hugged you tight, when he soothed you when you were scared or sad, how he caressed your hair for you to sleep, how he played his guitar on your porch, singing you nice songs. How he snuggled his nose on your neck before leaving for work, how loved he made you feel.

But he didn't know that. He thought he was the lucky one. That you could just leave him at any minute, going after a stronger and younger man.

He was removed from his thoughts when Tommy touched his shoulder. His tense expression softening a little. "Hey, man! Have you figured out how to make it look like an accident yet?" He laughs, looking at Joel and following his gaze, finding you by the drinks table, the guy still talking to you.

"Don't know if I want it to look like an accident." Joel says back, and his serious tone makes Tommy wonder if he's actually considering killing the man for talking to you.

Knowing his brother...

"Hum. Make him an example; send a message, right? 'Look what happens when you mess with that belongs to me!'" he says, mocking Joel. Joel shoots him a stern look, but laughs when his brother slaps his chest.

"Hey, quit it man, alright? She looks good, boys will flirt with her, get over it. I would bet my ass she would never pay them any mind." Tommy tries to ease him.

Joel sees the man get more comfortable around you, laughing and touching your arm occasionally. You look relaxed, and he fucking hates it. You're terribly oblivious to notice when someone's flirting with you — although you always cut it as soon as you notice.

It's just that this time it's taking you a bit too fucking long to do something about it.

"It's not her I'm worried about. Some of these boys think they're grown men, think they can talk to her like that." He shoves more food inside his mouth, clearly eating to release some steam.

On the other side of the salon, you're getting tired of the conversation you're in, and your face probably shows it. The guy starts accelerating his pace.

"Anyway, I was thinking you would like to leave this party? I mean, it's kind of dumb, you know? Maybe we could go to my place, or yours." Your face freezes. Was this guy flirting with you this whole time?

Fuck.

You look over a Joel, and judging by his face... yes. This guy was flirting with you.

Fuck.

You know you should shake the guy off, tell him you're not interested.

But when you keep looking at Joel... Jealousy looked so good on him, his jaw moving slowly and forcefully, his eyes hooded and dark, eyebrows low, nostrils wide. You wanna see more of it.

"I don't think it's a dumb party. It's fun, were celebrating everything summer gave us, everything we have stocked up." You say.

"Well, yeah, I guess. But not as much fun as we could have somewhere else." He said, coming closer to you. You watch Joel from your peripheral, making sure he's not coming over to murder the poor guy.

"Can't. Don't want to, honestly." You say, feeling bad at how the guy's face sinks. "Besides, I have a man, you know? Joel, Tommy's brother." The guy's face now goes pale, his eyes widen and he follows your gaze, already on Joel and Tommy.

He pulls away from you. Almost like he can see his fate on Joel's expression.

He heard the stories, of what Joel did before Jackson. He didn't want to be in one of them.

"I'm so sorry. I... I didn't know. I've never seen you two together, like together. I thought you were just close because of Ellie. I'm so sorry." He managed to say between stutters before rushing away from you.

You look back at Joel and Tommy and laugh, biting the inside of your lower lip.

You grab your drink and walk towards Joel, a silly and innocent smile on your face.

"What did he say?" Tommy asked laughing, wanting to see Joel's reaction. You look at Joel, seeing his low eyebrows and forceful chewing.

He was livid, but not at you. Maybe your oblivion, but not you. He liked how you teased him, because he knew it'd never go beyond that, and you were only doing it for him. But fuck... He hated to see men flirt with you.

"We were talking about food and supplies, and then out of nowhere he asked if we could go over to his or my place. Said we could have move fun there." You said, making Tommy laugh, Joel shaking his head furiously, still chewing his food.

"Poor guy was inviting himself to his own death." Tommy said laughing, and Joel grunted, shaking his head, still chewing.

His brother was right. If a guy showed up at your doorstep looking for you, Joel would just snap his neck on the spot.

"You need to pay more attention, baby. These boys don't wanna be your friends, I told you that." Joel says on a tender but firm tone. Tommy finishes his drink and gets up.

"He's right, sweetheart. You give these boys too much attention and they think you're theirs. Cut it as soon as they start." He advices, slapping Joel on the back of his shoulder when leaving. "Besides I don't want to help Joel hide any fucking bodies. Behave you two. Also, try and have some fucking fun, Joel! It's a party." He says, dancing away from you two.

Joel moves on his stool, spreads his legs and taps his thigh, calling you to come closer. You get in between his legs, leaning on him with your butt against his thigh. He buries his nose on your hair, caressing your sides. "I know you're right. But he was just talking about the food at first, as soon as he said that I told him I wasn't single and left." Your tone apologetic.

Joel's eyes softened. He knew he could trust you, and he hated to see you believe he thought you would flirt with anyone else. "I believe you, amor. I just hate to see it. You're mine, they should feel lucky they can look at you. Not be so fucking disrespectful." He said, kissing your temple.

Realistically, Jackson was a bit too full of people to keep track of all the couples. So, naturally, not everyone knew you and Joel were together, but it still made him angry how men would throw themselves at you.

He knows you are more than a pretty facade, and he doesn't like seeing you diminished to that. He loves you.

All of you.

The fact that you're eye candy is just a bonus he still isn't sure he deserves.

"Do you wanna dance? Let everyone see me in your arms, know I'm yours." You whisper the last part on his good ear, softly pulling his hair behind it. Your faces are close while you watch him fondly.

"Dance?" He's not much of a dancer, but he sighs at how you're looking at him.

A sweet smile across your face, your lower lip between your teeth, your eyes sweet and hopeful.

He can't say no to you.

You pull him up and he reluctantly follows you, dancing to a few songs you had on old CDs around Jackson. Your bodies are close, your head resting on his chest, his mouth on your temple, kissing you there.

"I know you do it on purpose." He suddenly says, his voice low and intimidating. Almost scary, honestly.

"What do you mean?" You look up at him, your head tilted to the side, your bodies still glued by the torsos.

"Y'know what I mean. Giving these boys attention just to piss me off. To see what I'll do about it later." His dark tone tickling your stomach, contrasting with his soft touch as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

"And what will you do about it?" You mimick his whisper.

"Still planning, bunny. But I'll make sure you don't do this again. Only I get to see this dress after tonight." He says, squeezing your waist harder. You sigh, laughing as you hug him tighter before letting him go and taking his hand in yours.

You walk him away from the crowd, talking to some people on the way, sneaking together into a bathroom and locking the door.

You pull him into a needy kiss, and he presses his already hard cock on you, taking you with hunger, his big arms engulfing you and his mouth not giving you room to breath. His beard scratches your face, the thin pain from it just making you lean further into him.

You pull away when you feel like you're gonna faint, palming him and biting his lower lip, both your breaths deep and heavy. When he mentions to open his belt, though, you lace your fingers on his locks, forcing him down.

He smirks and lets you lower him, pulling your dress up by the hips, revealing your underwear — also a new pair, one you got just for him. He groans at the sight.

He kisses your mount and licks your folds through your panties, making you laugh before pulling at the fabric, lowering it down your legs. You lets your dress go, and he groans when you open your legs and the slit of the dress grants him free access to your pussy. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, licking your clit.

"Fucking made for this, baby." He says with an amused sigh before burying his face on your folds.

He kisses, sucks and bites you with such passion, you're sure you don't last even one minute before cumming, pulling on his hair to keep balance and quietly moaning his name, little screams escaping your lips. You're doing your best to support yourself against the wall and not fall.

It's the type of orgasm that turns your brain off. Your legs struggle to hold you up, your body is shaking, you can't speak. Not even your tongue you can manage to hold inside your mouth, a wide and silly smile spread across your face.

He pulls your underwear fully out of you, and you whimper — the closest you can do to speaking, protesting, right now.

"I'll keep this. You won't need it anymore." He says, shoving your underwear into his back pocket and holding your face with both hands, his grip strong and comforting, your nails digging in his biceps.

"We'll go home now. No more playing around. You'll walk outside, say your goodbyes and I'm taking you home. I'll show you what you get for fucking teasing me, bunny." He says slowly and sternly as you look into his eyes, doing your best to pay attention and listen to him.

You're holding onto him, and he's supporting you up. You'd just fall if he let go. Your eyes are watering and wide, bliss glistening all over them. Your lips are frozen on a silly smile, and he stares at you for a second, a smile stamping his own lips.

"You're already like this and I haven't even fucked you yet, baby. So adorable." He kisses your jaw, maneuvering your face with such ease it makes you want to take him right there and then. To just handle you and do whatever he wants.

You moan into his beard, tugging on his shirt, trying to squeeze his arms. "Please, Joel." You beg in a whine.

"Uh-huh. You were teasing me till a minute ago and now you want me to treat you with my cock? You know how it works, baby." He pulls away, smiling when he sees the pout on your lips. "My way now. I'm dealing with you at home." He says kissing your pout before letting go of you, almost letting you fall on the floor.

He turns his back and leaves the bathroom, knowing damn well you were just gonna follow him and go home.

He knows you may want this even more than he does.

And he loves it.

You try to drop to your knees

"No. Not today." He says, grunting as he pulls you up.

You whine, melting into his arms, staying steady into his embrace.

But he's already mad, and he's already gonna fucking destroy you.

So why not make him give you his worst?

He is sucking on your neck when you let out amidst a moan: "You know, the men back at the party would let me do it."

He pulls away and shoots you a stern look, a cold and serious one. A look that told you clearly to not keep pushing him.

A look he rarely shot you, a complete contrast from the soft, sweet and weak gaze he'd offer you every time you looked at him.

And you know he's losing it. You know he's fighting not to throw you on the bed and fuck you until you apologize.

The problem is: he knows you never do. You've learned that if you make him mad he will fuck you, punishing you for it, so you never apologize.

Because you don't want him to stop. You love it.

You don't feel bad after it, no matter what he does to you.

You want him to do whatever he wants.

To use you like you're there just to please him, just to give him some relief. You want him to call you names, and to fuck your brain out of your body.

And then you want him to hug you tight and call you his good girl, tell you how good you did for him, how lucky he is to have you. How much he loves you.

You love it. You love him.

You love it when he gets jealous, when he possessively wraps his arms around you when a boy talks to you, how he whispers before bed that you belong to him.

Because you don't want it any other way.

"They'd looove me to do it." You say with a smile.

Maybe you drank a bit more than you should have..

"Did you behave like a fucking whore to every man you fucked, baby? Or is it just for me?" He asks, and oh... You like this. The deep and short moan you let out proof of just how much you like this.

"Just for you, Joel. Only you deserve it." You say with a smile, and he frowns, lust consuming more and more of him with every word you say. "Any other man tries to talk or fuck me like you do and I'd slit their throat." You whisper in his good ear, earning a grunt from him.

"That's because you're not a slut, angel. No. You're a good girl, the best one I've ever had in my hands. Doing all I want." He goes back to your neck. "But you sure know how to act like a whore when you want to, baby. A real good one." He says pulling your head back, allowing himself more skin on your neck.

You moan. "I do it because I know you like it."

He groans, grinding his dick on you. "As long as it's just for me."

"You know it is." You whisper. "Let me do it, show you what only you can see." You say even lower, caressing him through his jeans.

"No. My way now, you'll take what I give you." He says, throwing you on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs, bringing you close to the edge before dropping your legs back down. "And if you're good to me, I might give you what you want."

He opens the dress's slit, kissing your mount and licking his way through your still connected folds, his tongue finding your clit between your folds and rolling circles around it.

"Oh, God — Joel." You moan, already feeling something forming inside your core.

"You tell me when you're gonna cum. If you don't, I'm not touching you here for the rest of the night." He says, his voice serious and stern.

"And how are you gonna cum if you don't touch me?" You ask, a smile on your lips.

"Plenty of ways I can cum without making you cum, baby. I can fuck this pretty face, can fuck your thighs, your tits, so many things I could do to you. You only cum after I say so. Alright?" He punctuates every way with a kiss to your mount.

You nod.

"Words, bunny, need you to use your words. Do you understand me?" He says, a stern but comforting tone, lifting your legs and resting your thighs over his shoulders, spreading your folds open with his thumbs.

"Yes, sorry, yes. I understand." You mumble, running your fingers through his hair, your entrance burning in anticipation.

"There's my smart girl." He praises before licking a streak from your entrance to your clit, your eyes rolling back. He rolls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it, his eyes focused on your face.

He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue before pushing it inside, rolling it around inside you and bringing his thumb to your clit, drawing tight and slow circles over it.

You moan and call his name, your back arching and your lower muscles contracting. He groans and squeezes your hips, pulling you lower onto his face.

You pull his hair as he switches, french kissing your clit as he inserts one, then two of his thick fingers inside you. His beard burns your sensitive skin, and the pain makes you roll your hips on him, burying his face even deeper on you.

You lift your hips from the mattress and he holds them high, grabbing your butt and squeezing it. His hungry eyes not leaving yours for even a second.

He thrusts in and out of you with his fingers, his tongue lapping on your clit as his lips stay locked around it, sucking on it progressively harder and harder.

"Joel." You moan, the ease with which he always coaxed orgasms out of you never failing to impress.

He feels your walls tightening around his fingers and picks up his pace, sucking harder on your clit and thrusting his fingers more roughly.

When he starts curling them, right on your sweetest spot, your throat shuts and you gasp, pulling his hair harder and locking your ankles around his back.

"Joel — fuck — I'm gonna cum, please. Please, let me cum." You beg. He doesn't make it easy for you, though, intensifying his movements even more, waiting for your ultimate tell that you'd cum.

When your hips start raising even higher and your walls compress his fingers even more, he lets go of you completely. Leaving your clit throbbing, your entrance leaking and burning with need. Your mouth dry and open, your eyes watering, your legs sore and shaky.

"No, no, no. Please, Joel, don't." You plead. You hated when he edged you, because he let your orgasm start, then ruined it. Not fuelling it for you, letting it die bitterly between your legs.

You reach for your pussy, but he catches your wrists, holding them tight.

"You wanna behave like that? Talk about having other cocks in your mouth? Then you gotta be a big girl and accept the consequences of your actions, baby." He says, getting up and pulling your arms.

He pulls you into a kiss, but you're mad at him, so you don't correspond it. "So pretty all angry like this. Like you don't love it when I do this to you." He whispers close to your mouth, a playful smirk on his face.

You kiss him, deep and needy, moaning at your own taste and holding his arms, almost climbing on him to kiss him deeper. You grab his cock through his jeans, and his hips buck into your hand.

"Let me do it." You moan.

"Thinking about sucking other men made you forget your manners, baby?" He asks, biting on your throat.

"I want it." You whine.

"And how do we say?" He asks, going back to kissing your throat, his fingers intertwined tightly with the hair in the back of your head.

You let out a frustrated moan, one he knows to be an acceptance of defeat. "Please, Joel. Let me do it. I want you in my mouth, please. I promise I'll be so good."

He laughs on your neck.

You're always so good.

"Get down." He says sternly, his lips leaving your neck while he stares at you with furrowed brows.

He just can't say no to you.

To think that you ask — constantly beg — to suck his cock, was too good of a vision to waste. He had women be grossed out by it enough times to not be grateful when he has you begging so nicely for it.

You don't get down, just holding his stare as you admire his strong features. How his brows and nose frame his whole face, how his beard is starting to grey around the edges, how pretty his mouth and his eyes are.

How much you love him, how much you love when he treats you like this. Because you know he loves and respects you, and he'd never do anything to hurt you or make you feel bad.

The best word you can use to describe what you feel for him is pure adoration.

You're pulled out of your mind when be grabs your jaw.

"You wanted this, didn't you? Talked to that stupid boy to get me to do this, right? Then you got what you fucking wanted, no reason to keep being a fucking brat." He says, making you smile. His head tilts to the side, his nostrils widen and he twitches inside his jeans.

He pushes you down to your knees, opening his belt on a split, the sound of his ziper and belt making your stomach float inside your belly.

You have a silly smile on your face, and you retribute his teasing by pulling just his jeans down and licking his tip through his underwear, right where it's wet with his precum. He grunts and interlaces his fingers with your hair.

"Teased me enough, haven't you, amor?" He says with a grunt, as you suck on his clothed tip, stroking him over his underwear a few times while indulging in how big, hard and thick he feels on your hand. How you can feel him pulse sometimes, and how much you love to taste him.

The latter makes you pull his underwear down, staring at his cock for a beat and, without touching him with your hands, lick around his urethra, gathering his precum in your tongue. His cock twitches and jumps away from you, making you laugh.

"Jesus Christ, baby." He groans, furrowing his brows and pulling your hair. His hips instinctively buck forwards.

You reach for his tip again, still not touching him. You roll your tongue around it and suck him inside your mouth, applying pressure and licking your lips when you let him go, twitching again, away from you.

Joel grunts, your teasing not helping your case.

Not that you're trying to make him less mad at you anyway.

"Do it right or I'm taking it away from you." He says sternly, and you frown, instantly grabbing him, stroking him slowly as you suck and roll your tongue around his tip. "Shit. Good girl, like that." He groans, throwing his head back. His fingers caressing your head without forcing you to move.

He knows you don't need guidance with this. He loves how you blow him.

You take more of him inside your mouth, but his edging made your mouth dry, and his precum isn't enough to make him slide into your mouth easily.

"Joel?" You call, you voice small. He looks back down at you, humming in response.

"Can you help me? My mouth's a bit dry." You ask, keeping your voice sweet and low.

"Tell me what you need, peach. So pretty using your words for me like this." He says, stroking your hair gently.

"Can you... Spit on it for me?" You ask. You could just wet your mouth until he slides inside it. But he's right there above you...

"On your mouth or my cock?" He asks and you shrug. "Your choice, baby." He says softly, still stroking your hair.

"Can it be both?" You ask with a smile. He smiles and pulls you up by your armpits, grunting.

"Open wide for me." He pants, his voice raspy.

You do so, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

"Now don't swallow, you're gonna need it." He says before spiting inside your mouth once, making you moan.

You swallow instantly, your core leaking when you do.

"Why such a brat today, baby?" He asks, smiling and furrowing his eyebrows. His hands cup your cheeks tenderly.

"I tried not to, I swear." You smile, biting the thumb he rubs over your lips. He pulls your lips open.

The crease between his eyebrows gets deeper when he does it again, once again earning a moan from you. "Want more?" He asks, and you nod, your brows furrowed. He does it with a smile, holding both your cheeks, your ears between his index and middle fingers while he admires the pool he made on your tongue.

He kisses your cheek, right under your eye, besides your nose. "Knees." And you fall back down, your mouth closed, full of him, doing your best to not swallow it.

He gathers some more saliva in his mouth while you take him in your mouth. You go as deep as you can with the wetness inside your mouth, stoping and looking at him.

Aiming for his cock, he spits on it, close to his base.

You take him in deeper, swishing his saliva around his cock. "There you go, amor. This month feels so fucking good." He praises as you start picking up your pace, your mouth around his tip, hand working his length, twisting your wrist, feeling his skin move under your hand. Your other hand goes to his balls, caressing and squeezing them lightly, making him grunt.

"Fuck — Taking me so well you almost made me forget you were thinking about other cocks, baby. So bad." He says and you moan. You could never think about anyone else, you just said it to piss him off.

Gladly he knows that, but gladly it doesn't mean he won't play along with it.

He holds your head with both hands, pulling your hair back, carefully gathering it in his fists, and you hold onto his thighs.

"Ready?" He asks as he pulls out of your mouth.

The tenderness in his touch and voice a stark contrast of what he's about to do to you.

"For you always." You moan back, and he caresses your scalp.

"My pretty girl." He praises. "All mine." While he places his tip inside your mouth. "Suck it."

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck on it, rolling your tongue around him, never breaking eye contact.

He pushes himself in, going all the way to the back of your throat before pulling away. Then doing it again.

A particular thrust goes even deeper, and he bottoms out inside your throat. You gag, and he holds your head in place, grunting with the squeeze.

He picks up his pace, eventually fucking your mouth. His hands pressing on the sides of your head, his thrusts deep and mean.

"Oh yeah, so so tight for me, baby. So good, could fucking cum inside this mouth." He says, thrusting deeper before pulling away from you, a thick streak of saliva still connecting his tip to your mouth. You stare up at him, admiring his imposing figure. How he towers over you, how big and strong he is.

He pulls you up and away from your adoration, fixing your hair and wiping your lips and chin with the sleeve of his flannel.

"I swear to God if I ever see you step outside wearing this dress again, baby..." He says, looking down at your body, squeezing your waist.

"If you say you're gonna do all this again I'm going out tomorrow with it." You say with a smile, and he laughs, looking at you through his lashes, that dark gaze back on his face.

He throws you on the bed, removing his shirt. You reach for him with your feet, and he kicks his pants away. You stroke him once with your feet and he holds them, keeping them tight together, thrusting a few times with his eyes closed before snapping them open and looking down at you.

"See? Another way for me to cum without making you cum. But not today, baby." He laughs, spreading your legs and opening your dress right on the slit. "So fucking made for me." He says, both at the slit and at you.

He wraps his forearm underneath you and pushes you further onto the bed, kneeling between your legs.

"Wanna apologize before I start?" He asks, running his tip through your folds, gathering your arousal.

You laugh, supporting yourself on your elbows to kiss him, and he pushes in, all the way, slowly, letting you wet every inch of him before inserting the next.

You moan into his mouth, wrapping one, then both your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you. His weight crushes you, and you gasp when he pulls almost all the way out before roughly going back in.

His first thrust sets a relentless pace, his hips slamming against yours. He wraps his left arm underneath you again, pulling you even further onto the bed, never letting himself slip out of you.

"God — Joel." You moan, screaming his name on his shoulder, his thrusts forcing air out of your lungs, making you gasp while you do your best to breath.

"So fucking tight, baby." He breaths on your hair. "Fucking made for me, just me. All — grunts— fucking — grunts —mine." He says, punctuating every last word with a thrust.

"Yours Joel. Keep me so full I can't think of anyone else." You cry on his neck, your orgasm coming closer and closer to you.

"Fuck — Such a good girl for me, only one I fucking — grunts —need." He groans, his pace somehow getting rougher. He wraps his other arm around you, keeping you locked under himself, his hips moving fast and hard.

The brush of his skin and his pubic hair on your clit is enough to make you whimper and clench around him.

"Please, Joel. I have to cum." You beg, your orgasm only not hitting you because you know better than to go against his word.

"Sure know how to take it like a whore, baby. I'm fucking you like this and you're asking to cum on my cock, huh? So fucking good." He teases, squeezing you in his embrace.

"Yes, Joel. Please, I want to." You whine, your nails digging deep into his back.

"Cum for me, baby. C'mon, you're being such a good girl for me. You deserve it." He coos, kissing your neck, somehow fucking you even rougher, even deeper, even faster, pulling a strong and deep orgasm out of you.

"Joel!" You moan almost pornographically, screaming his name passionately, your throat hurting with how loud you're being all of a sudden.

You'll certainly get some looks tomorrow. And it's not gonna be because of the dress.

The way you scream his name makes him cover your mouth — the whole bottom of your face — with his large hand.

"Shh, trying to tell the whole town who you belong to, peach? I thought that was why you wanted to dance at the party." He laughs, watching as your face contorts and grunting at how much you squeeze him. "Keep a bit more quiet for me, baby, c'mon."

He lets go of your mouth and fucks you harder, now having to forge room for himself inside you. You bite right between his neck and his shoulder, trying to not scream again. Your hips rolling as your orgasm comes to an end.

As soon as you stop quivering under him he starts rolling circles around your clit, fast and tight. You gasp, your hips moving desperately, trying to get away from the overwhelming stimulation.

"Oh, Joel. Too much, fuck." You plead, but it only makes him fasten his movements, his hips pouding you relentlessly.

"You wanna behave like a whore you gotta take it like one, bunny. Liked teasing me, didn't you? Huh? Now you're gonna squeeze me real nice again, gonna make me cum for you."

"Joel." You moan, half screaming, digging your nails in his back, trying to focus on him, his weight, his warmth, his rough fingers on your clit.

"C'mon, baby. Gonna squeeze the cum out of my cock, aren't you? You feel so good, my peach." He pants on your hair, kissing and biting on your neck.

"You're gonna cum inside me?" You ask, your voice coming out more hopeful than you expected. Your ankles instinctively tangling behind his lower back.

He laughs softly on your neck, kissing you there and squeezing your hips. "You know I can't, baby. I fucking — grunts — can't." He pants, his voice frustrated and low. "Fucking wish I could." He whispers, barely leaving your pussy before thrusting hard back in.

His confession makes you moan, clenching around him, your orgasm so close you can almost feel it.

His hips lose rythme, and he takes your hand in his, putting it between you two. He lifts himself, hands besides each side of your head. He's loud. Panting, grunting and groaning while he pounds into you.

That's why you tease him. To see this animalistic and senseless, strong and big man pound you like his life depends on it. His cock rearranging your organs to please himself.

"Cum for me, baby. So fucking close, just need to feel you again." He pants, his forehead touching yours, his pace punishing and lovingly at the same time. Punishing you for teasing him and lovingly for you to remember he loves you more than anyone else ever could.

"Joel." You scream again, a shameless and vulnerable plead for him. For him to see how good he makes you feel, how much you love being his.

"There you go, baby. C'mon, feels so good squeezing me so nice, fucking — grunts — milking my cock, gonna cum so much for you, my baby. Can't be fucking inside you. No." He says, his face hovering above yours.

"I want it, Joel. Please. My mouth, I want you." You plead, still high from your orgasm.

"Take the dress off, baby, c'mon." He whispers and you eagerly do so, squeezing him inside you when you contort your upper body to remove it. He grunts from it, slowing his movements down for a second, one of his hands holding your waist.

"Please, Joel." You beg, scratching his shoulder blades and looking at him.

"So pretty begging for me like this." He says. "Too bad you don't deserve what you want, baby." He pulls out of you, pumping himself hard and fast above your belly, and you open your mouth, a beg for him to give you some of it.

"Don't be so fucking greedy, amor. You've had plenty of it". He says right before cumming all over your stomach and breasts with loud grunts and groans.

He loves seeing you covered in him, marking you as his.

He is, thankfully, kind enough to aim some of it at your face, and you end up drinking a few streaks.

He finishes and falls on the bed besides you, staring at the roof and trying to catch his breath as you do the same.

After a minute he gets up with a grunt and goes to the bathroom, coming back with a wet towel. He dresses his underwear and sits by the end of the bed, pulling you legs by your ankles. He spreads them and runs the cloth over your swollen folds, carefully cleaning them.

He presses a kiss on each of them, kissing your clit last, laughing when you jump from the overstimulation. He licks around it, looking into your eyes and smiling.

"You don't deserve it." He laughs, lightly slapping your pussy and climbing on top of you, pressing the mattress besides your head and hovering above you.

You lift yourself to kiss his lips, wrapping your arms around his back and digging your nails deep into his skin. You let go of your own weight and he holds you both up, deepening the kiss, panting into your mouth, his beard burning your skin deliciously.

"You know I love you, don't you?" He asks, his voice low.

"You just showed me." You say with a soft laugh.

"No, amor. I mean it. You know it, don't you?" He sounds like he's about to cry.

You pull him down on the mattress with you, looking into his eyes. He wraps his arms tight underneath your body. "Of course I do, Joel. What do you mean?"

"Just keep seeing you with those boys. They're all so young. You could just have any of them." He says, his soft eyes glistening.

"But I don't want any of them. I want you, love you, only think about you." You coo, kissing his lips.

He turns you both around, and you lie on top of him, your head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his manly and woody smell.

"I love you so much." You whisper. It almost hurts how much you do. "I'm so lucky to have you, Joel." You squeeze him in your embrace, your own eyes threatening to water.

"Love you more. Luckiest, happiest man in this town with you by my side, baby." He responds, and you snuggle your face deeper on him, kissing his neck, indulging on his presence.

On how you'd never imagine leaving your man.

Hope you enjoyed it, need a jealous, possessive and soft Joel in my life to call me names and tell me how much he loves me 😫

My Masterlist 🩷

[captain-joongz]

Thinking about free use husband!Joshua…

Coming home to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind while he is cooking .. kissing his neck and shoulders and teasing him until he gets hard

Making him keep cooking while you start to touch him cruelly, praising and degrading him in the same breath

And he loves it, letting you do whatever you want to him, making him submit, even though he would do it willingly, this way makes his body shake, until he has to turn off everything and stop before he collapses on the floor…

Maybe this doesn’t make any sense, maybe it does, I cant really tell im too tired 😭

- ✨

(Btw you’re gonna get that job!!)

so sorry for the delay darling, i ended up taking a little break for dinner and a shower, but now i'm back and more ready than ever to tackle this delicious scenario~

and thank you for the encouragement! i honestly don't know how to feel about the interview today, but hopefully it didn't go completely awfully haha! i have another one tomorrow afternoon, so there's more awaiting ! but that one is for an english teacher, which i think should be perfect for me <3

here's your delicious little story ✨anon <3 and as always, hard hours continue and will continue for another week !!

warnings: cursing, marking, subby Shua, handjob, cumming in pants

ooooh now, Joshua is a little bit of a wild card, isn't he? i feel that he has a strong and easy-going enough personality that people would assume he'd like to naturally lead, but also there's this air of gentleness and prettiness about him that just screams "i'll let someone take care of me", not to mention that he's a sassy little bastard

so maybe he would sometimes brat out a little, have some cheeky remarks, but deep down he just loved submitting to you, especially when you came home all fired up from a long hard day at work. oh he'd know that you'd need to get your hands on him and unwind with the fierce aura of exhaustion and frustration enveloping you

he'd at least hoped he'd be able to finish the dinner he was preparing for the two of you, but then you were in the kitchen, wrapping your hands around him in a back-hug, smushing your face into his shoulder

"hard day?"

"oh god, you don't even know. janet from accounting is being a cunt again, it's crazy."

for a few moments the chatter between you flowed without interruption, you hanging off of him and loudly complaining about a coworker that's been making your life ten thousand times harder, and he'd started to relax and focused back onto cooking

but that's what you were waiting for

the second you could feel him untense in your hold, your hands started to wander. at first only slowly caressing his sides or across his tummy, touches that could easily be read as comfort, but then your hand strayed a little too up and pressed up on his nipple just as you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, both feeling and hearing his breath hitch under you

"baby..." he'd say breathlessly, trying to reprimand you but his body would already be heating up with the promises it came to understand from your hands

you wouldn't stop, for anything, busying yourself by leaving hot laving kisses to his neck and behind his ear, one hand carefully massaging his scalp and tugging at his hair while the other one slyly made its way under his t-shirt to tease his nipple without the barrier of clothing

you'd love the feeling of him tensing under you, his body going all high-strung when you'd press down on the stiff little peak and push it around with your lazy fingers, breaths leaving him in huffs and sighs every time you'd tug his hair a little harder

he'd still try to pretend to be fully focused on cooking, but it would all grow hazy in front of his eyes, his lids threatening to fall shut with every electrifying rush of lust and pleasure from your ministrations, and soon he'd start messing up - clumsy hands dropping the spoon, crushing the ingredients in his palms on every hard bite you distributed to his neck, and you'd chuckle at his plight

"what is it, baby? aren't you a little clumsy tonight?"

he'd huff at your words but say nothing, stubbornly trying to ignore you and your games - and that would only stoke your fire and provoke you into upping the ante

now sticking your both your hands under his clothes, one migrating to give attention to the other nipple while the second naughty hand travelled south until you were cupping his half-hard cock and punching a moan out of him

"Shua, baby, you're not paying attention to the food at all, i'm so disappointed. i was looking forward to your cooking all day, but you can't focus long enough to not burn it..."

"don't be so mean" he'd whine and you'd tsk at him

"is that any way to talk to me?" gripping him harder, you'd love the way he'd groan under you, hands abandoning the utensils to grip at the counter, but you'd quickly grab them and push them back to the pot

"go on, baby, cook for me if you want my praises"

and Joshua would give it a valiant try, he really would, stirring the food in little aborted motions while you rolled his nipples between your fingers and kissed at the bitten and marked skin of his neck, hand massaging and squeezing the growing bulge in his pants, and the kitchen would be full of the sounds of hissing cooking food and his little sighs and breathless moans

but he'd know it's game over town the moment your hand slipped into his pants and gripped his cock. the skin on skin contact was almost enough to send him crashing to the ground, knees buckling and knocking into each other with the surge of pleasure. and yeah, he definitely didn't even see what he was doing anymore, head tipped back and whines spilling out with every slow measured stroke on his cock

you'd see his hands shaking on the utensils, you'd see how he'd start losing focus, not moving them anymore, instead jerking his hips in tiny little circles to fuck into your hand - and of course you'd still him and tell him he needed to do better - and of course he'd moan at that, his cock jumping in excitement

"i c-can't, fuck, wanna cum please-" you'd recognise the tell tale signs he was close, the way he'd squeeze his eyes shut while his mouth fell open, the way his whines got more and more high-pitched and his hips shook as he supressed the need to pump them into the tightness of your fist

"go on, baby, you've been such a good boy for me"

and that would be all it took for him to frantically start turning the stove off, barely managing to catch onto the counter before the combined stimulation of you biting his ear and squeezing the tip of his throbbing cock sent him over the edge and he came in his pants, shaking in your arms with soft cries

Shua would turn to jelly in your embrace, barely even holding up on his own two feet while the half-cooked food cooled down on the stove, but it would be hard to pay attention to anything else except for his body thrumming with the release and the gentle kisses and praises you whispered into his lips for listening to you so well

divider by @cafekitsune

[comically-callous]

Hi! You must’ve JUST posted while I was searching a tag! WELCOME to the crowd of other amateur writers who have no idea what we’re doing!

I have a request for a short fanfic/drabble! Wonka 2023 where fem!reader is a storyteller who worked in the laundry room when Willy arrives. Reader is closer with Noodle and usually tells her bedtime stories before going to sleep, and Willy comes to admire the vast imagination in the stories while falling in love, to Noodle’s joy. I haven’t had the motivation to write in a long time, so I hope you’d be up to trying to get the story out of my head!

Hi! Thanks sm for the request. Hope I could do your idea justice lol

Willy Wonka x Storyteller!Fem!Reader (Wonka 2023)

Warnings: None, I think. Sort of just a cute fluffy one.

Three years ago, you made the worst and most unforgivable mistake of your life: Taking a shower at Ms. Scrubbit's hotel.

To make a fairly short story shorter, you neglected to read the small print, leading to you being in a massive debt to her. So, for the next 5 years of your life, you'd be forced to work in a dirty, old laundry room.

You were absolutely miserable at first. Your days dragged by and your nights were mostly spent curled up in your bed crying. But, once you accepted your situation, you found a way to make the days go by faster: Making up stories in your head while you worked.

You'd always had quite the creative mind; so, weaving tales of magic and wonder was a fun way to spend your time.

Plus, Noodle always liked to hear your stories before she went to sleep.

But, recently you'd earned another fan of your stories.

Willy was the newest person who was unfortunate enough to end up down here. And lately he'd started sitting at the desk in Noodle's room every night, tinkering with new chocolate recipes or practicing his reading and writing skills, while you told Noodle a bedtime story.

But, according to noodle, he was actually in there just to listen to you. Supposedly, the moment you left, he'd turn to noodle and the two would discuss whatever story you'd told that night.

If that was true, you were honored.

One night, Noodle and Willy snuck out of the laundry room to do who knows what. And a couple hours later, Noodle returned without Willy. She told you all about the adventure they had which apparently included milking a giraffe, flamingos, and a run in with the police.

Her recount of the night was entertaining, and you were glad she's had fun. But, you couldn't help but feel a bit worried for Willy. "So, what's gonna happen to Willy?" You asked. "Is he getting arrested?"

Noodle shook her head. "He told me he'd talk his way out of it." She said as she got into bed. She tilted her head at you. "Do you like him?"

"What?" You flushed.

"Like, do you wanna be his girlfriend?"

"I-" You were about to say no, but that wasn't entirely true. You admired him. He had a brilliant mind, and he was unbelievably handsome. "Okay, how about I tell you a story?"

"So, you do wanna be his girlfriend."

"Story is beginning now."

Later in the night, you were in your own room, about to settle in for bed when someone knocked at your door.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, getting up to open the door for whoever it was.

"Hey." Willy greeted. "Sorry if I woke you up." His hair looked wet which was strange, but you were more concerned with why he was at your door.

"Don't worry, I wasn't asleep. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was just wondering if... Uh, did you tell Noodle a story while I was gone?"

You nodded. "I did."

He seemed a little disheartened, which made you feel bad. "I'm sure noodle can retell you the story tomorrow." You offered, trying to lighten his mood.

"She could. But, the way you... I mean... You have a wonderful, imaginative, beautiful mind. And the way you tell your stories, it's amazing! You could read me a grocery list, and I'd be on the edge of my seat." He gushed.

You couldn't help but blush. "You think all of that?"

"Yes! How could I not?" He gave you an affectionate smile.

You returned him smile. "I mean... I could tell the story to you right now, if you want."

Willy thought about it. "It's alright. I think I can go without a story for one night." He said reassuringly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the offer, though."

He began to step away from your door, saying a quick goodnight before he began walking toward his room.

"Wait, Willy." He stopped and turned to you.

You walked up to him and kissed his cheek. Willy blushed. "What was that for?"

You shrugged. "To make up for the story you missed out on?" You offered.

Willy smiled and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

"What was that for?" You asked this time.

"Just cause I like you." He replied as he leaned in to kiss you again.

[alicechess]

Art x reader part 2

Note: This hasn't been proof read, so my bad if it's not the greatest I smashed this out in like 4 hours. So not the highest quality chapter. I might fix this up at one point, heavy maybe.

@ch1hvro

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--------

You felt ill after the shift, it could be explained, it absolutely could be, right? Just a coincidence, a man dressing up to be a dick, then point at the plastic ring on your hand because he thought it was amusing, and joked that it was him who gave it. Yeah, just a joke, coincidence. You settled on it being a coincidence. 

As soon as you got home, you took the ring of and but it on your bedside table, you didn't want to wear it, you were meant to Halloween night, but it completely slipped your mind. 

However, that night, you heard on the news he somehow escaped the morgue today, in the morning. The news reporters stated the injuries, and allegedly a few people who work in the medical field said how unlikely it would've been for him to survive. They then stated that the poor mortician was brutally murdered too from him, because of course he had to do it. Does that mean it is possible he came to your work today? If that was him, why? He didn't have any blood, or any visible injuries at least. He moved perfectly fine. 

You shook your head, there was no point in thinking about it. If you saw him again, then it absolutely wasn't a coincidence, as there would be no way to justify it. You then turned the TV off, then went to bed. The thoughts of him stuck in your mind as you laid there, the whole day repeating over in your head. How his attention was stuck on you, why that specific Cafe, and although again, the ring may just be him being a dick and not knowing. It still bothered you, all of that happening within the span of an hour. Eventually you fell asleep, your dreams, of course, had him there too. 

The next morning you awoke in a cold sweat, your heart racing rapidly. Once you glanced around and noticed you were in your room, you felt relief.

Just a dream

Maybe you needed to ignore the news, take a break from social media for a few days or even a week. You had no doubt some people would be talking about stuff, but you just had to hope you wouldn't overhear anything. Maybe it'd be good to take a day off, though you knew your boss would be pissed and so as your co-workers. You've barely taken days off the whole year, maybe 3 at most. 

You decided to send a message to your boss, explaining that you have some family stuff going on, and if you could take the day off tomorrow. 

Hopefully he'd be fine with it.

You started getting ready, after showering

--------

You walked into the door of the Café, the ringing bell irritated your ears. You walked into the back, you had to do a bunch of dishes from last night since one of the other workers had to leave early. Your co-worker spotted then greeted you, "Hey, you look like shit."

You rolled your eyes, "Wow, what a nice way to say good morning Charlie." 

They gave you a cocky smile, "I know I know, I'm wonderful aren't I?"

That damn smile was contagious, "Aww, and I've got you smiling too."

A small chuckle left you, "Yeah yeah, anyway, how longs your shift today? Anyone else in?"

"Uhh, till about 4. I have another job on the side to earn extra. And no, Laurie left about 10 minute ago, she had to leave early as she had an appointment."

"Ew, that's gotta be painful, and god damn it, it would've been nice having a third for today.

"It's painful, but moneys money, world can't go on without it." They sighed, "And I'm trying to save for a new car, the shitbox out there ain't gonna last much longer." They said, taking the eggs out the frypan. "Anyway, can we talk more during our break? Can't have customers complaining."

"Yeah sure, that'd be great actually." They then walked out with the plate of food. 

Your morning was a lot easier to deal with after that interaction, although you hated to admit it, they were annoying at times but you loved them. They were a great friend, and made working a lot easier to tolerate.

You filled the sink and placed the dishes in there, cleaning the least dirty to the most. More and more dishes came, but you tried your best to stay ahead. The dishwasher was going to take forever and only could do a small amount at a time, so this is unfortunately a job that had to be done.

After about an hour, you were close to being finished, and so was the dishwasher. After, you put the dishes away, then went up to your Charlie to check if they needed help with anything.

"To be honest, not really, business is slower than normal, which is a fucking relief." They whispered, so none of the customers could hear. 

"Nice, is Chloe gonna be here soon? It would be nice if she could cover the register, and we can chill in the back."

They shrugged, "Not sure, she's meant to be here at some point today but that's all I know."

You groaned, "Alright, since business is slow should I just sweep and mop now?" 

You heard that cursed bell ring, and you heard a honk. You instantly turned around, wondering what that noise was. 

"What the fuck..." Charlie muttered under their breath.

Your eyes widened, bile rose up in your throat. You stood still for a few moments as you locked eyes with that fucker, then you sprinted towards the staff toilet. You leaned over, the breakfast you ate not longer ago instantly came up. Your throat burned as acid tore at your throat. You clenched the toilet bowl as it kept going. You body shook rapidly from fear and shock.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Why is he here, it was meant to be a fucking coincidence. Do I have a murderer stalking me?

You weren't sure what to do, but after about a minute you heard your Charlie running over.

"Hey, hey!" They said crouching down, rubbing your back. "What the hell was that? Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah...." You croakily mumbled, your legs wobbling as you slowly stood up.

"Stay there if you need to, I can handle the front for a bit." 

You shook your head, "I'll be fine, it's fine. Just give me a minute and I'll clean up."

"Look Chloe should be here soon, when she gets here I'll explain you were sick so you had to leave. Got it?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'll be okay, I just got nauseous.-"

"No, you're heading home when she gets here."

You wanted to argue, but you knew it was probably a good idea. You didn't want to see... it again. 

"Fine, can I help just till she gets here?"

"Yeah sure, just don't overwork yourself and let me know if you feel ill again."

You nodded, moving towards the sink to splash water on your face. "Alright, I'm gonna head back, don't rush yourself I can handle it." They patted your back again, then walked off.

You looked down at your shirt, and thankfully there was no vomit. So, you went back to helping Charlie. As soon as you were in the doorway you spotted him, sitting down. "Hey, is it okay if you could pass this to the customer in the clown suit real quick? I just need to prepare another order."

You nodded, trying to not show your fear to them. "Yeah, of course!"

While you walked over, you noticed his eyes were on you. You looked at the floor, knowing it was rude but you were so afraid. You put the pancakes down in front of the clown. "Here's your order... sir." You mumbled, giving a forced smile. As you starting walking away, he beeped the horn. 

"Did you need something?" 

He nodded, gesturing you to come closer.

He looked at your hand, a frown forming on his face. But not a second later is was replaced with that eerie smile. He stared at you as he purposely knocked the plate down onto the floor. It shattered onto the ground. He covered his mouth, giving an exaggerated 'Oops' face. A few customers looked over giving a confused and concerned expression.

Your face turned into a thin line, what the fuck "I'm sorry sir, I'll be back." You quickly muttered, walking to Charlie, "Hey, look I can't do this right now, can you please talk to the clown? I'll do whatever you were doing before. I'm just really uncomfortable around him."

They nodded, noticing you were shaken up. "Yeah that's fine, but what's going on? You look horrified, did something happen?"

You shook your head, "It's nothing, just can you help him?"

"Okay, I'll do that now, you just need to make a strawberry milkshake for table 5 while I deal with the clown."

"Easy." You immediately started to work on it, you scooped the ice-cream, poured the milk and strawberry-flavoured syrup and then blended it. You occasionally heard words from your Charlie while they were trying to communicate with the clown. But of course it went nowhere. As you were pouring the milkshake into a plastic cup, they came up to you. "I have no idea what he wants, he's not responding at all to me. I clean up the mess, but I don't know what else to do. Was he at least responding to you?"

"Yeah, I guess, but I really, really don't want to talk to him. He's... scaring me." You glanced at the floor, feeling embarrassed. 

"It's okay, I'll figure something out. Other customers are starting to feel uncomfortable as well. Fuck, Chloe needs to get here soon."

"Yeah, hopefully, should I contact the boss?" 

They nodded, "Can you contact Chloe first? We need her here soon."

"I'll do that now, I'll try and make it quick." You hurried out to the back again, pulling out your phone. You dialled her number, but it immediately when to voice mail. "What the fuck..." You murmured, trying again. And again. You groaned, then decided to send her a quick message.

Y/n: Hey, are you still coming into work today? 

You hoped she'd read it soon, then you dialled your bosses number. Thankfully, you heard her voice on the other end. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, I heard from Charlie that Chloe would be coming in today at some point. What time would she be here? She isn't picking up any of my calls. "

You heard a sigh on the other end, "Give me a moment."

After 15 seconds of rustling sounds, she answered. "Alright, it says she'd be on around 2pm till 8pm. Is she not there?"

"No, she's not. It's 2:30."

You heard another sigh from your boss, "I'll try and contact her, that's all I can do. Is that all you needed?"

"No, I was wondering what to do about a customer. One of them is making me and Charlie uncomfortable. He keeps.... just doing stuff."

"If you want advice I need more details." 

You took a deep breath in, "For one he's in a clown outfit, which in itself isn't bad but it's just how he's acting doing it too. If that makes sense, and he purposely broke one of our plates, and acted like it was all funny. He then wouldn't talk to Charlie, only me. It's just such bizarre behaviour."

"Normally threatening them with the police will cause them to stop, but if he continues call the non-emergency line for the police. That's it."

"Alright, thank you."

"Bye." She said, the line ending.

You walked back to the register to talk to your Charlie. "Chloe was meant to be here at 2. What the fuck do we do? She isn't picking up my calls, she's not answering my messages and the boss just told us to threaten the clown with the police but fuck that I'm not comfortable with it I don't know him and he's scaring-"

"Calm down, you're gonna be okay. This isn't a big deal you'll be fine we can figure this out. I'll talk to him."

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clown. He was sitting there, his chin resting on his hands, giving you a wink. 

"God fucking damn it." Your muttered under your breath, he waved at you, then gesturing for him to come over again. "He wants me to go over again, what do I do? What the fuck do I do?"

Charlie bit their bottom lip, "I can go over if you like and try again, but I doubt he'll listen."

"Fuck, fine, I'll fucking doing it." You whisper-yelled, immediately going over towards the clown. You noticed most of the customers had left. How had no one called the police yet? Maybe they thought it was someone trying to be funny? 

"Hello sir, is there anything I can help you with?"

The clown told you to stop, raising his pointer-finger. He then went through the garbage bag next to him. You heard the sounds of metal hitting metal, making you feeling almost as sick as before. He pulled out an envelope. You stared at it for a moment, noticing brown splotches over it. It looked like dried blood. You also noticed how there was a bump inside. You were about to place it down, but he gestured for you to open it.

You stared with widened eyes, really not wanting to. "I'm sorry sir... I-"

The clown gestured one more time, a deep frown on his face. You were afraid, so begrudgingly, you open it. And inside was a chunk of blonde hair, with a small amount of dyed-blue strands. You pulled it out and saw a piece of someone's scalp was attached. The blonde hair looked identical to Chloe's. You placed it back down onto the table, stepping back. 

"Why.... what did she do to you?"

You knew what he did. It was obvious. But all you wanted to know is why. Yeah she could be bitchy at times, but she never had bad intentions. Not anything worthy of her fucking dying.

The Clown silently giggled, slapping his knee like it was the funniest joke in the world. He pointed at you, mimicking a horrified look and then continued laughing. 

"Oh fuck this." You muttered, Charlie looked over and saw the terrified look on your face. "Charlie we need to get the fuck out now!" You yelled, grabbing their arm, dragging them into the kitchen. To get out through the front, you would've had to walk past him again, and that was not something that you wanted. 

You shoved them inside and slammed the door shut, locking it. "Grab a knife Charlie." They didn't ask questions, just grabbing it off the bench. The clown was walking over towards the counter, where you'd pass food through to the person at the register. He stood there smiling. 

"Nope, don't look just fucking get out." You urgently said to Charlie, grabbing their arm and leading them to the back door. You unlocked it ran out with them. You rummaged through your pockets and grabbed your keys, your hands shaking as you tried to open the car door. 

"Y/n your tires have been fucking slashed!" 

"Oh for fuck sake!" You yelled, this time they dragged you. You dropped your keys while they pulled you, "My keys!"

"It doesn't matter Y/n! There's a fucking psycho chasing us." 

You followed them, running to the nearest store. You looked behind, noticing the clown was behind, with that fucking garbage bag thrown on it's shoulder. 

As Charlie ran into the store, they yelled to call the police. They didn't care about scaring the workers, they just needed to make sure the both of you were safe. The woman at the register looked confused. They ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind the both of you. They fumbled with their phone, dialling the emergency number. 

"What's your emergency?"

"There's a fucking psycho chasing after us! He's trying to fucking kill us!" They yelled, sounding hysterical. 

"Okay, calm down. Are you safe right now?"

"I think so, we've locked ourselves in a random stores bathroom. We don't know where he is right now."

"Okay, what did he look like?"

"He-he was wearing a black and white clown outfit, like the one from the news!"

"Alright...." The operator said, sounding like they thought it was a prank call, but they still continued.

"What store are you in right now?" 

Charlie turned to you, "Do you know where we ran to?"

You shook your head, "I-I wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry!"

"It's fine." Charlie murmured, "We don't know, but can you guys track the phone?"

The woman sighed, "Yes we can, but if this is a prank call you will be in serious trouble."

"We aren't fucking lying, my fucking car tires were slashed and this fucker gave me an envelope with co-workers scalp in it! Get the damn police here right now or we could get brutally murdered!" You screamed at the operator.

"Please calm down, the police are on their way." The operator said, "Please stay on the line, are you hearing anything outside of the bathroom?"

Charlie spoke up, "No, it's oddly quiet out there, I... I don't know where he is. I don't know if he followed us in or not. We didn't look around."

The only thing you could hear was cars driving by, it was otherwise painfully silent.

"Fuck what happened to Chloe, oh god I hope she's okay. Please Chloe be okay." You whimpered, dropping to the ground. "Fuck I'm sorry Chloe, I'm so sorry." Tears welled up in your eyes, then started streaming down your face.

Charlie knelt down, placing their phone on the tiled floor, "Hey, it's okay, Chloe might still be out there. Probably not in the best condition but still maybe out there." They gently hugged you.

You sniffled, "What if that psycho grabbed my keys, I'm not even going to be safe in my own fucking home." You sobbed, "I didn't even do anything to him!" 

"I know, some people are just messed up, but you'll be okay, I'll make sure of it. No ones going to hurt you." 

Eventually, you heard the police sirens and them shouting. After a few moments they knocked on the bathroom door. You immediately unlocked it, running out. "Did you find him?" You asked, your eyes showing the hope in this being simple, like maybe he was waiting outside or something stupid. But of course, reality didn't work that way. 

"The only people we found were the workers here, I'm sorry." One of the officers said, "Do you have any injuries?"

You and Charlie shook your head.

"Alright, we're going to need to take you in for questioning."

--------

[forbidding-souda]

byakuya and a fem s/o being all domestic? I love the way you write for him, he’s so submissive and breedable

Byakuya Togami and his fem S/O being domestic

in mod souda fashion this isn't proofread at all so take it as it is.

-Mod Souda

❤ Getting to sleep in his bed every night feels like a blessing.

❤ "Our bed." he clarifies. no togami, it's your bed and you know it.

❤ Even though sometimes he wants his alone space and to not have you all up on his body but that's fine, at least you can feel his warmth from underneath the same blanket.

❤ He keeps his glasses case on the bedside table and if you move it at all, you're cooked.

❤ If you tend to go asleep really late he's going to hate for you to wake him up.

❤ And don't even think about being on your phone in bed. Don't even think about it.

❤ When he does want you close, he likes when you hang onto one of his arms as you're sleeping. Or when you have your hand on his cheek. Simple romantic things like that.

❤ If you try to lay on him he's gonna tell you to get off him though.

❤ His favorite type of intimacy in general is wrapping his arms around you from behind and putting his head into the crook of your neck.

❤ That part of your neck is his place fr.

❤ Periods - he's not a mind reader, tell him what you want because god knows he hasn't the clue.

❤ It's not as if he's interested to talk about it either.

❤ Clothes! He's not going to wear any of yours, nice try, and he might not be too keen on you taking his either.

❤ He will make sure you know how to tie a tie. He will. He will. Mostly because to him it seems like a optimal trait, but he also just likes when you do it for him :)

❤ Chores are unnecessary, he has people to do those for you because you're not getting him to sleep in a house that is for commoners.

❤ And bro does NOT know what a dryer sheet is

❤ Being domestic with a billionaire is not for the weak.

❤ He's not gonna be charmed if you try to cook him breakfast or anything. He'll try it, definitely, but he's not giving his compliments to the chef.

❤ And I don't see you two going outside that often. He's not going to want to go on walks or trips to the park. He has formality, plus constant watchers.

❤ Something cute, though, is if you have something on the tv that he won't like, he won't complain. I can see him just leaving the room. But it's the one thing he won't complain about. He'll will just be on his computer doing work and sometimes glancing up at the screen.

❤ He won't mind having his reading time interrupted if it means he'll get a kiss.

❤ ^ Small pecks can be any time (in the house). He's much satisfied with just caressing, but kisses can be sweet, too.

❤ He doesn't take very long in the shower but his house is too bougie for you to worry about if he's taking all the hot water. He prefers the shower to be clean and the bathroom mirrors to be stainless and the counter to be shiny so if you're a cleanfreak then yesss his bathroom is a blessing. If you're messy then count your days. Just kidding but he's probably want you to do your hair / put your makeup shit in a separate bathroom.

❤ Hotel rooms away from his house are the sweetest. Sure he can get penthouses and the expensive ass resorts, but he can make all of them feel like home. He's a little less organized in those places. He'll leave his suit jackets draped over the back of a chair, and he'll let the droplets in his after-shower hair drip onto the tiled floor.

❤ ^ You love hotels because you are more likely to get to see him with a tower wrapped around his waist wowowowow.

❤ I'm rambling sorry.

❤ Erm yes imagine the cute things like him feeding you, letting you comb his hair, brushing your teeth together in the morning, all the usual romantic like that. That's the good shit fr.

❤ is this what you wanted anon I hope so

[weirdsht]

Hihihi hello!!! Hope ur doing well 🫶🏻

Cale n the co with someone who likes to give quick, gentle kisses? It can be platonic as well (sorry i kiss everything i like)—the kids, rosalyn, cage, hannah, their pillows, n many more. Like imagine kissing the kids' foreheads more than just few seconds and so sweetly bc they love their adorable little faces with big doe eyes so much-- I'm gonna cry so bad bro. I live for happiness w my unreal beloveds 🫂

Hershey’s - LoTCF & Gn! Reader

notes: I think 4+1 fics are becoming my go-to...

tags: gender neutral reader, sickfic at the end, fluff, kisses, platonic

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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Navigation Masterlist

When you first worked with Cale everyone was immediately introduced to your… peculiar habit.

Kiss!

[Name] kissed Cale’s hand as a greeting.

“It’ll be my pleasure to work with you young master.”

“Is this how you greet everyone?”

Cale asked but he didn’t look uncomfortable. Unlike when Clopeh compliments him. Because unlike that lunatic, the young master could feel the respect in that peck.

“When it seems appropriate. I’ll refrain from doing it if you are uncomfortable.”

Yup, [Name] is a hundred times better than Clopeh. They can’t even be compared.

“No, it’s fine. I was just curious.”

“As long as the young master doesn’t mind then.”

+~+~+~+~+~+

It was a rare day when everyone was taking a day off. No one was training or anything. They have all collectively decided to laze around.

“[Name] tells us a bedtime story!”

Raon demands as he and the kittens lie down on Cale’s bed. The owner was rolling around the marble floors somewhere else.

“But it’s still midday? Why would you want a bedtime story now?”

[Name] tilts their head in confusion at the kid’s demand.

“Cale told us that anytime is a good time to sleep nya!”

Hong reasoned as he tapped his paw on the bed for emphasis.

“Fair enough. I’ll get a fairy tale book then.”

Two stories in and the children already looked drowsy. All of them are ready to take a nap. [Name] closed the book they were reading and leaned down to kiss each of the children’s foreheads.

“Sleep well, kids.”

After that, they demand [name] to tell them a bedtime story every night.

…it certainly wasn’t because the kiss felt nice.

…not at all.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Thanks for training with me Choi Han!”

[Name] thanked the swordmaster. Only the two of them are in the plaza. Everyone else had already finished for the day but [name] asked Choi Han for extra training.

“No problem.”

Choi Han replies as he hands his friend a bottle of water to drink.

Together they sat in silence. Only the sound of the water being drank and the towel wiping their sweat could be heard.

“Come one, let’s go. We have to shower before Beacrox kicks our asses.”

[Name] chuckled as they offered their hand for Choi Han to grab. The black-haired man also laughs as he imagines the chef’s angry face.

Once they reached the door to [name]’s room they got on their tiptoe.

Kiss!

Then kissed Choi Han’s cheeks.

“Thanks again, Choi Han! I’ll treat you to something nice next time!”

With that, they enter their room leaving the poor man outside with a very red face.

“First time?”

Rosalyn laughs as she passes by the swordmaster.

Choi Han knows that it’s just the way [name] shows affection.

But still, he can’t help but feel embarrassed.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Sniff. Sniff.

On sniffed as she held back her tears. 

Why the tears one might ask?

She accidentally scraped her knee while running around in the Forest of Darkness. The sting from the wound hurts so bad that it makes her tear up.

“Oh no baby come here. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[Name] picks the silver kitten up so they can clean the wound. Once they entered the room On was placed on the bed so they could get the first aid kit.

In no time, the kitten’s knee is all bandaged up.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No. Thank you [name].”

[Name] smiled brightly as they received On’s gratitude. They then leaned down and kissed the silver kitten’s bandaged knee.

“To make it heal faster.”

“Then… every time one of us gets hurt we can go to you to kiss it all better?”

On paws [name]’s face. They are now on their way back to meet up with everyone.

“Of course! But that right is exclusive for children. The grown-ups can handle themself.”

[Name] winks at On and both of them giggle as they walk.

Deep inside, On thinks she shouldn’t tell the rest of the kids about this privilege.

She feels like they would deliberately hurt themselves just to get a kiss.

+~+~+~+~+~+

[Name] was sick with a fever. They have been delirious and fading in and out of consciousness for 2 days now.

There’s not much they remember but they did retain the memory of a bunch of people kissing them.

Kiss!

“Get well soon.”

Rosalyn kissed the crown of their head as she wished them well.

Kiss!

“It’s hard seeing my sparring partner sick like this. Get better soon so we can spar.”

Choi Han kissed their hand with a promise of spar.

Kiss!

“I know you said it’s exclusive for children but maybe it’ll work on you too.”

On pats their head as she kissed their forehead.

Kiss!

“Get well soon [Name]! Because you're sick I’ll read you a bedtime story instead!”

Raon kissed their cheek before he started reading a children’s storybook.

…[name] genuinely doesn’t know anymore if their red face is from their fever or their kisses.

[benzendrine-nosebleed]

"Sing Me To Sleep."

Guys!! I wrote a one shot based on Schlatt's most recent Drunk Driving stream after hearing him sing bits and pieces. I haven't proof read this (mostly because I'm not in any sober editing mood to) but I wanted to share this quick little bit.

1111 Words, Fluff, Schlatt X Reader

“I love hearing you sing like that,” I spoke softly. Jay was taking a quick break from his drunk driving stream, moving from his office to the kitchen. He has been streaming for a few hours now, and I could smell herbal liqueur on his breath. He grazed past, marching straight to the refrigerator with padded “thuds” from his socked feet.

“Do ya?” Schlatt asked, plucking a snacking cheese from the drawer inside. “Was it on stream?” He asked, unwrapping and popping creamy gouda snack cheese between his lips.

“Yeah, your mic picked it up, and I do, I love hearing you sing Jay, I wish you’d do it when you were sober. You have a wonderful voice,” I smiled, “I mean, your fans loved the album right? That should be enough motivation for you to sing like a canary,” I reached out to hold him for a second before he went back into his office. His mustache shifted on his upper lip as he chewed away. “Have fun with your stream Handsome, I’ve got to go to bed soon. I’m gonna get ready to crawl in. I’ll turn your side of the blanket on so when you make it back it’ll be warm for you too.”

Schlatt smiled and reached out, setting the wrapper on the counter beside me and wrapping his arms around me in a soft embrace. “Of course toots, I don’t know when I’ll end the stream, but I’ll be ready to climb into bed wit-cha.” He pulled me close into his arms, and planted a kiss on my cheek. “If I’m not back in there before you fall asleep, I hope you get some good rest in, I love ya,” he chirped. He pulled away, striding with a confidence he put up as a front for his audience. He entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

As he moved back into his room, I strolled across our home to the master bathroom and began drawing up a shower. I had a long enough day working at my own conventional job, that a Friday night was the night to relax. It was winter though, which meant I was in the busy season. I had to help shovel snow across the city, while in New York was enough of a task on its own, and brainstorm funding for public park systems and come up with plans for new designs. I climbed in, letting the hot water warm my bones, and I listened to Schlatt scornfully yell at his computer screen. As I continued, I could hear his agitation and laughs come in waves. He was thoroughly enjoying streaming again, and I was more than happy to let him enjoy it.

I climbed out of the shower and threw on some pajamas, in “Jay’s” style as I had begun to call it. I had taken one of his sweatshirts, which was baggy on myself, and threw it over a pair of my shorts. Once I finished brushing my teeth, I walked to the bedroom, careful as to not disturb Schlatt in his element on Twitch. His cats, Jambo and Soup, were sitting on the preheated bed, leaving me to shuffle in between them as not to disturb their own slumber. I plugged my phone in, and scrolled through TikTok until I began to drift off. I could feel myself nodding in between videos, so I made the choice to set my phone down, and sleep until I felt my lovely drunk boyfriend slam into bed.

This was somewhat of a common occurrence, since he used to film Chuckle Sandwich late into the evenings, we held this dynamic. I would end up in bed early, and sometimes I would wake up to him crawling in, or cuddling up to me. Sometimes I wouldn’t wake up at all and I’d hear my alarm, and feel Schlatt’s arm wrapped around my stomach anchoring me down. After the week that I had though, I was too tired to try and stay up until he was done streaming. I set my phone down on the bed next to me, and nodded off.

I woke up to Schlatt crawling into bed gently, not to disturb me. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but the room was still dark, and the lamp on my side of the bed was still on. He reached over me softly and shut it off, slowly letting the room fill in with a darkness. I didn’t move too much, it was more of my subconscious running my body at this point more than my own mental state. My eyes fluttered closed again, only squinting shut as soon as I felt his hand wrap around my shoulders. He shuffled closer to me, pulling the blanket from between us, and spooning into me.

“Sleep Warm, sleep tight, once you turn off the light,”

He softly lulled. His fingers slowly drifted into my hair, stroking through the strands softly. I recognized the song, being one Schlatt would throw on sometimes in the evening as the night came to a close. He slurred softly, his tone was indicative that he had been drinking most of the evening, but reached his most inebriated state before climbing into bed. He softly sang more, my mind came to life realizing he wasn’t just singing along to a song, he was singing to me.

“Let dreams within you dwell, sweet dreams of me my love,”

He continued softly, his fingernails tracing softly on my scalp. A smile had formed on my face hearing him singing so sweetly, softly into my ears as his lips pressed to the back of my neck with each verse. I still hadn’t moved an inch, hoping to not spook him out of continuing his warbling.

“Close your eyes now, and kiss me, and whisper you miss me,”

He pressed his lips to my neck with a soft kiss. His soft mustache tickled my neck, his fluffed brown hair pressed to mine, it was almost overwhelming how much I adored him like this. I scooted backwards into his body, pressing myself against him as his singing ended a moment later. His hand wandered under my sweatshirt, gently cupping my bare torso. I would normally feel a tad self conscious whenever he would do this, but tonight I basked in the feeling. His hand slid itself between the mattress and my skin, securing his place next to me.

“G’night sweetheart, I love you,” He whispered softly between another set of kisses on my neck.

“Good night Jay, I love you too,” I mumbled back, still flush from his lull.

[authorhjk1]

Halloween Interlude:

The archer and the heiress

Tiffany Young X Kim Taeyeon X Male Reader

Shoot! I completely forgot!"

The woman lying next to you lifts her head off your chest.

"What?"

"I have to go to the party today."

She sits up, looking around for clothes she could put on. You remember that she was already missing her dress by the time you reached her living room. Her panties must be in that area as well, while her bra is dangling on the doorknob of her bedroom door.

"When does it start?"

"9 pm."

Your watch says it's 7.

"Relax, Tiffany. You have more than enough time."

You pull her back onto the mattress and your chest.

"I have to clean this place, though."

"Why? You said the party is at your friend's place."

"Yeah. But another friend of mine is gonna pick me up."

"Don't worry about it."

You have your own meeting to attend to, which means, you don't have all the time in the world either. But with a beauty like Tiffany next to you, there is no way you leave, unless it's absolutely necessary.

You kiss her forehead, while sneaking your hand under the cover. The two of you are still naked after your little session a couple of minutes ago.

"Yes. Right there."

Tiffany sighs as you fingers find her clit. You lazily draw small circles on it, while kissing the top of her head. Her own fingers trace along the outlines of your abs.

"A little harder."

You do as she says, making her squirm underneath the sheets.

After your night with IU, you realized that there are mutual benefits for sleeping with older women. You still learn something everytime. Ahin appreciates it as well, since she is mainly the one whom you experiment on afterwards.

"God, yes."

Tiffany coos as you slip a finger inside her honey pot.

"No, No. Stop. I have to get dressed."

She attempts to pull your arm out from underneath the sheets.

"You know this going to take only a minute."

You earn another moan as a second finger joins the first.

"And how are you going to get off then?"

You shrug your shoulders.

"I have to take a shower anyways, before I leave."

"That's not fair."

"You are the one who is telling me to leave."

"No. I-I'm not. Fuck."

Tiffany feels her body starting to heat up. The warm feeling in her core intensifies as you curl your fingers.

"God. I thought you too well."

You chuckle as you feel her press her face into your chest.

This is the second time in one week you are lying in her bed. And it seems to pay off.

Her legs shuffle around, making her feet peak out from underneath her white covers. You see them curling, her toes digging into the mattress.

Keeping your pace, it doesn't take long for Tiffany to orgasm. A deep moan, a small wave that's rushing through her body and she is lying next to you, like she did before.

Your chest is a little wet as Tiffany is still breathing heavily. The two of you lie next to each other in silence once more.

A couple of moments later, the doorbell rings.

"Oh, shit! That's her."

This time, you don't stop Tiffany from getting up. Instead, you enjoy the sight of her flawless body. She opens her wardrobe, taking out a bathrobe. She ties the satin belt around her waist as she turns around.

Tiffany's cleavage is on display, the turquoise robe barely hiding her chest.

"Towels are underneath the sink."

You nod in appreciation, before watching her leave the room and close the door.

Checking your phone, you read the message Ahin send you.

"I feel bad that you have to work tonight. I will make it up to you, when I'm back home."

You are typing your response, when she sends you another text.

"Are you still at Tiffany's? I hope you are enjoying yourself before the meeting."

"Thank you, babe. I'm having a great time. I will see you tonight."

Putting your phone back on Tiffany's nightstand, you throw the sheets off your body. While you make your way to her bathroom, you hear Tiffany and another woman chat in the living room. Since the door to the bathroom is in her bedroom, you don't even have to leave it.

Closing the door behind you, you search for her towels.

Meanwhile:

"What are you doing, Tif? We are leaving in a couple of minutes."

The younger woman scoffs at the older one.

"Is that your costume? It's not very original, is it?"

"Better than your robe. What are you dressed up as? A slut?"

"No. My costume is in my bathroom."

"Get dressed then."

Tiffany rolls her eyes.

"You know where the drinks are. Knock yourself out."

The younger woman leaves to get dressed.

Hearing the door open, you turn off the water. You are done anyways. When you are about to ask Tiffany for your clothes, you remember where you left them.

"What is it?"

"I left my clothes in your living room."

Tiffany's eyes widen.

"No problem. I'm gonna get them."

You stop her by holding onto her arm.

"It's fine. I can get them myself."

"But-"

You shut her up by kissing her lips.

"Get dressed."

Closing the door behind you, you tie her blue towel around your waist. Luckily it's more than big enough to cover your lower body, even reaching your knees.

Entering Tiffany's living room, you stop in your tracks. The woman that is leaning against the counter looks stunning, to say the least.

Her long black dress falls onto the floor, while it shows off her naked shoulders. Silver hair flows down her back and shoulders, decorated with pearls. Her glasses look quite interesting, but your main focus lies on the weapon in her hand. A silver bow, at least half as long as she is tall. You get a glimpse of her quiver, before you realize that she is holding something else in her left hand.

Your red tie.

She must have heard you come in, because she looks up. A small smile plays on her lips.

Her eyes are locked on yours, before they start to travel down your body. Kim Taeyeon's gaze wonders over your biceps, chest and abs. You see her biting her lower lip, once she reaches your towel. You feel proud of your body. The hundreds of hours spent in the gym were worth it.

"Drop your towel."

You expected everything. Except this. Maybe a hello. Or a compliment. Or "what the hell are you doing here?". But not this.

Too surprised to answer, you stay in place like a scarecrow.

Taeyeon sighs, before putting your tie on the counter. She walks up to you slowly, keeping eye contact with you through her glasses.

"So you are the reason, why Tiffany is late?"

"I-I guess so."

Now you know, why she was in such a hurry to get dressed earlier.

"I told you to drop it."

Taeyeon let's her bow fall onto the sofa next to you.

After hesitating for a moment, you do as she says. As the towel hits the floor, she takes a step closer.

"No wonder Tiffany didn't tell me about you. I wouldn't want to share you, too."

"I'm not an object, you know?"

Tiffany wasn't as dominant during your first encounter. Yes, she did make you take her in her car. But afterwards, she became a little softer. She likes to switch between dominant and submissive.

But as Taeyeon puts her hand around your throat, you realize that she is probably the most dominant woman you have been with.

The pearls on her hand slightly dig into your skin. You have no trouble breathing yet.

"As of now, you are mine."

Still too bamboozled to speak, you let her other hand explore your chest and abs.

"Tiffany is gonna take a while. Which means we have time for a quick fuck."

You are still in awe at how confident she is. Taeyeon is way smaller and petite than you. But she still holds power over you, like you never expected.

At first, you want to decline. Just out of principle. For some reason, Taeyeon is too dominant for your taste. And yet, you find yourself kind of intrigued.

Since you saw Tiffany's body just a few moments ago, you can't help but compare. And you have to say, Taeyeon isn't lacking behind in anything at all. Her dress stretches a little over her chest, making her breasts look slightly bigger than they probably are. Her flawless, white skin is decorated with pearls, while her eye makeup compliments her hair.

She looks just as beautiful as she looks intimidating. Especially with that bow and quiver of hers. The way she stares up at you, makes you jump into action.

Wanting to kiss her red lips, you lean down. Taeyeon almost makes you choke as she strengthens her grip.

"No kissing, toy."

Without breaking eye contact, she reaches down, touching your dick.

"This is the only part of your body that I want inside of me."

The situation is utterly ridiculous to you. This small woman has wrapped you around her finger like a plaything. With ease, she pushes you against the wall.

"Pick me up."

Taeyeon strokes your cock, making sure you are able to make use of the short time you have.

"Pick me up and nail me into the wall."

You reach underneath her dress, expecting her to take her hand off your throat. Instead, Taeyeon straightens her back fully, making it easier for you to pick her up.

Looking down, you see the hem of her dress still grazing the floor. The soft skin of her thighs in your hands makes you as hard as you need to be. Taeyeon reaches into her dress, guiding your cock towards her entrance. You shouldn't be surprised she isn't wearing anything underneath.

"Now give it to me."

She presses her forehead against yours as you feel your tip part her folds.

"Give it to me good."

This would have been motivation enough already. But hearing Tiffany rummaging around in the room behind you finally brakes your composure.

You pull Taeyeon onto your cock, her body as leight as a feather. Her wet pussy makes way for your dick as you sink into her.

"That's what I'm talking about."

Taeyeon coos as she feels your hard shaft slowly filling her snatch.

"Now turn around, toy."

You do as she says. Both of her hands are now at the back of your neck as you push her back against the wall.

"Fuck yes."

Taeyeon sighs as you lift her up, before dropping her again. Like she requested, you start to nail her into the wall. Her small body gets thrown up and down with every thrust.

"Harder!"

You pull her further onto your cock, making her take every inch. Her nails dig into the back of your neck as you bounce her up and down.

"Be rougher!"

By now, you almost feel like you throw Taeyeon into the air, before impaling her with your shaft. You drive yourself deeper and deeper into her everytime you pull her onto your cock. Her pussy is tight and wet, consuming your dick with an unsatisfiable hunger.

"Tell mommy how good her pussy feels."

"Your pussy feels so good."

You start talking, before even realizing what she called herself.

"It's so warm. So tight. It's the best."

"That's a good boy!"

Taeyeon sounds like she is out of breath, although you are the one carrying her. The volume of her moans increase with every second. You feel her dress hugging the both of you as you fuck it's owner into her friend's wall.

"Oh god! That's one good cock!"

Taeyeon's hands fall off your neck as you start to drive her towards the end. Her pussy tightens around you, her body trying to get as much friction out of you as possible.

"Make mommy cum!"

Her nails now scratch the white wall behind her. Taeyeon's face contorts in pleasure.

"God!"

Her pussy clenches around your cock as she orgasms on your dick. The tension leaves her body, while her eyes are wide open. Just like her mouth.

"What-"

Tiffany chooses this exact moment to enter the living room. She stops in the doorframe at the sight right next to her.

You, standing completely naked in her living room, driving her friend into her wall like you would a nail. Her friend, still recovering from her orgasm, hanging in your arms.

In return, you can't take your eyes off of Tiffany. You are not exactly sure what that costume is supposed to be, but it's definitely working for her.

Her white top looks like a combination of jacket and bra, showing a deep cut into her cleavage. The matching skirt is open in the front, revealing white shorts. Being this close to her, you can see the outlines of her pussy lips. Her long black hair cascades down over her right shoulder. While the rings on her fingers do make her look elegant, the sunglasses on her head seem a little over the top.

"Are you serious, Tae?"

"What?"

"Couldn't you have waited until like, after the party?"

"No way. He would be gone by then."

"That's true."

You agree with Taeyeon, but shut up, when you see Tiffany's stare.

"To be honest, I liked you robe costume better."

"Do you now?"

The younger woman crosses her arms in front of her chest while looking at the older one.

"Yeah. I still don't get what you are supposed to be."

"That's because I'm not done yet. I wanted to know what was going on, after hearing some noises."

"And what are you supposed to be?"

You feel your arms getting tired while listening to the two women.

"A rich heiress who was bitten by a vampire."

Taeyeon raises an eyebrow.

"I see. So you are wearing that, plus vampire teath and some blood on your face?"

"Better than your outfit from your own MV."

"Girls,...."

You try to put Taeyeon down, who gracefully steps out of your embrace.

"I really love both of your outfits, but I gotta go now. I have a meeting coming up."

"A meeting on Halloween?"

Tiffany laughs.

"Your life sucks."

Your eyes flicker between the two of them. Not really.

Walking away to find your clothes, you hear Taeyeon chuckle behind you.

"Who said I'm done with you yet?"

"What?"

You turn back around.

"There is still one thing I'm missing."

She walks towards you, taking a hold of your hard cock once more. You know what it is, but you wait for her to say it.

Instead, Tiffany steps up.

"Do you have to do this now?"

"Yes. And you do too."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Taeyeon focuses back on you.

"Since you are going to cum inside of me anyways, I'm gonna let you choose. Who do you want to fuck first? Me? Or that bratty heiress?"

"Hey. I just got changed and..."

Taeyeon takes Tiffany's arm and pulls her forward. The younger woman stumbles and lands in your arms.

"Bratty heiress it is."

You don't want to anger Tiffany and yet Taeyeon's stare makes you act immediately.

In a blink, you push Tiffany onto the sofa. She lands on her stomach, her sunglasses fall off at the impact. Leaning over her, you hike up her skirt, taking a good look at her firm ass.

"Take her."

Following Taeyeon's command, you peel Tiffany's shorts off of her.

"Stop it. I have to..."

Taeyeon stuffs Tiffany's mouth with a black thong. Now you remember, where you threw it a couple of hours ago.

"Less talking, more moaning."

You are now sitting on her legs, slightly pushing her ass cheeks apart. Tiffany's pussy looks even more beautiful in this position than usual. You guide your still hard cock towards her snatch, before slowly penetrating her.

You hear Tiffany's muffled protests, but you don't care as soon as you feel her wetness.

"Good boy. Now fuck the shit out of her."

Taeyeon is sitting in the armchair across from you, her hand underneath her dress.

"Mommy wants to see how she looks when she cums."

You take that as a challenge.

Tiffany's face sinks into the cotton of her sofa as you start to pound her. Her pussy feels even tighter in this position, making it even more pleasurable for you. Her elegant, bratty aura is quickly replaced by a mumbling mess.

The thong in her mouth works wonders. You can't understand a word as you fuck her hard.

"Listen to her moaning."

Taeyeon sighs, her hand moving at the same rhythm as you.

"I told her not to hide it from me, when she finds someone great to play with."

Her lips are slightly open, even when she isn't speaking.

"That's her punishment now. I hope she learns from it."

Holding her by her waist, you push Tiffany's body further into the mattress as you keep pounding her from above. You feel her feet kick against your back as her pussy becomes wetter and wetter. Her moans turn into screams, which even the thong can't quiet. And a couple of thrusts later, Tiffany is forced to orgasm on her sofa.

Her juices immediately stain the cotton as you feel her pussy clench around you. After having fucked Taeyeon before, you feel your own orgasm approaching. Tiffany's tight walls aren't of any help at all, when you try not to cum.

"Lie on the ground."

Taeyeon is already standing, ready for you to follow her order.

You lie down after leaving an angry, but satisfied Tiffany.

"Time for your cum, toy. Cum in me."

Taeyeon straddles you, already guiding your tip towards her entrance. A second later, you are inside of her again. While Tiffany is tighter, although that might have been the position, Taeyeon is definitely wetter. You feel her juices running down your shaft as she teases her folds with your tip.

"God, you are hard."

No surprise there, you think to yourself as you feel Taeyeon lowering herself onto you. You still don't see much, due to her long dress. Her pussy feels heavenly nevertheless.

Taeyeon starts to ride you, while you lie on Tiffany's carpet. The younger woman starts to fix her "costume", while you have to do your best to not shoot your load right now.

"You are such a good boy. Good fucking toy."

Taeyeon moans and moans. Filth after filth spills out of her mouth as she rocks her body on top of you. You hold her waist through her dress, making sure she can focus on her steady rhythm.

"You are nothing like a little toy to me. A plaything to cum on, whenever I want."

Taeyeon sighs heavily, her cheeks flushed.

All those accessories in her hair sparkle in the light as they bounce up and down in tandem with her body.

"Fuck."

You sigh, knowing you are close. Taeyeon feels you twitching inside of her.

"Yeah! Cum in me. Fill my pussy with that cum of yours!"

She picks up her pace, making you see stars. Her body moves back and forth, up and down. She does anything to make you cum inside of her.

"Give mommy your cum! Cum for me, toy!"

You groan as you finally release your load.

Taeyeon feels how you paint her insides white as her pussy contracts around you. A small orgasm rushes through her body, making her pussy milk your cock for everything you got.

___________

Happy Halloween in advance! Hope you enjoy this one. The next proper chapter is already on its way.